by Don McQuinn
At the sight of the onrushing Crow, Van let Piers fall and seized the staff of an encased flag. He aimed the glinting brass spearhead and charged, bellowing like a bull. For Crow it was bayonet drill. He turned sideways, pushing at the shaft. The point slipped harmlessly past. Van hurtled on. Crow, in total control now, smashed a forearm into Van's forehead. Van's head snapped back. He slammed to the floor. Incredibly, he rolled away, gaining distance in order to stand and fight more.
Two steps had Crow standing over Van. Now he was the one holding the flagstaff. He crouched, taut, the point wedged into the hollow at the base of Van's throat. Skin puckered dead white around the gilded metal. Crow's face was a mask, huge-eyed, teeth bared in a pure animal snarl. Rigid, Van stared into it and gibbered terror.
The thing howling in Crow's head brought unbearable pain. He screamed agony and fear. The voice he believed he'd vanquished long ago raged its triumph. It told Crow to kill.
The spearhead waited, poised at the end of a red tunnel. Crow wanted - needed - to plunge it into the trembling flesh. All the dreams, all the hallucinations, all the mourning shimmered on the tip of the shining metal. The evil of the world was concentrated there.
The voice sang of killing to be free.
Somewhere far away a woman called Crow. He ignored the sound, but only for a moment. It called again. The howling retreated. The murderous voice cursed the woman. Crow turned from Van. The red tunnel sought her out. Lila's features were contorted, pleading. When Crow looked into her eyes they twisted his soul.
Spinning away from that, he concentrated again on the spearpoint, savored the blood lust devouring his mind. Then, shivering violently, he stepped back and broke the weapon across his thigh. As he threw the broken pieces down the voice in his head shrieked as if he'd stabbed it.
The tunnel disappeared.
Dreamlike, Crow moved to where Piers lay moaning. He called to Garza, looking over his shoulder at the instant Major pulled Garza off his feet and tore free. Crow dropped in time to dodge under Van's swing with the clubbed half of the spear shaft. The larger man recovered before Crow could regain to his feet. The club swung again.
Major leaped past in a blur. He crashed into Van's chest, cancelling the blow. Impact bowled the man backwards. The dog fell with him, roaring, savaging him. Van's cries soared.
Crow rushed to pull Major off. He moved too fast, stumbled. Out of control, he fell forward, ever faster. Outstretched hands slammed into Major's side. To the dog, it was a surprise attack. He reacted. His jaws snapped shut on Crow's left arm between wrist and elbow like the strike of shears. Crow yelled and sprawled away, clutching a gushing wound.
Major barked once. Then he backed off, whining.
Garza was on Crow quickly, cutting off Crow's sleeve, using it as a pressure bandage. He was shouting directions to the people tending the Chief, Piers, and Van when the emergency medical team rushed in. A young woman efficiently wrapped a bandage around Crow's arm while Lila fluttered around them, touching Crow as if assuring herself he was still there. Garza went to help the EMTs with Van and Piers. When the EMT was done with Crow, she said, "That's got to hurt. I'll give you something." She had the needle poised when Crow grabbed her wrist. She flinched in alarm.
He said, "I don't see Major."
She pulled against his hold. "What?"
Lila said, "His dog. Big, brown. He bit... He was part of all this."
Crow released the woman, stood up. Lila grabbed him. She said, "It's all right. The excitement... He's off in a corner or something."
The EMT said, "A dog ran out when we came in. "
Yanking free of Lila, grimacing at the pain, Crow walked away. The EMT objected. "Sir, you need stitches. Treatment. You can't..."
Lila said, "Wait. I'm coming with you."
He turned. Inadvertently, she cried out, raised fisted hands to her cheeks. The face she looked at was ruined, the eyes she looked into were raw pain. He said, "Don't you see? It's happening again. He's run away. Because I destroy..." He broke off, choked, wiped at his downturned face with one hand and tried again. "I destroy everything I love. Keep away. Leave me alone."
Chapter 31
"This is where he'll come," Crow said to Lila. In the darkness the newly-painted white of Bake's Place was a beacon. Crow switched off the pickup's headlights. Lila's heart lurched. Faintly shrouded by a three-quarter moon the building's image changed to ghostly and ominous.
Lila said, "I hope you're right. Everyone in town's looking for him."
Crow opened his door and stepped to the ground, cutting her off. "I've told you all evening; don't get involved. If you're not smart enough to look out for yourself, I'll do it. The minute I find him, I'll bivouac down at the county campsite. I'll stick around here until tonight's mess is straightened out, but that's it." He headed for the Airstream.
Lila ran after him. "Don't you dare turn your back on me. I love Major, too. You can't close me out."
Looking up into the starred sky without turning, he said, "Please. You have to know how hard this is for me." All the fierceness was melted from his voice. The forlorn remainder gripped Lila's heart like claws.
She pleaded. "Hard for you? I'm the one who said 'I love you.' I know you love me, even if you'd rather die alone in a ditch than say so." Crow still faced away from her. Secretly she was glad. She'd seen his hurt and knew she couldn't do what she had to do now if she saw that again. Lost, with no way to fight back, she edged into surrender. "At least be honest enough to tell me you love me before you go. Can you understand that, Crow? Do you have any idea how much that would mean to me?"
"It wouldn't change anything."
"I know that. I'm looking for crumbs now. A woman wants to be told she's loved. A lot of us know it's a lie and we settle for it anyhow. You'd never lie like that to me. But what you're doing's worse."
The silence stretched for so long she despaired.
Finally, he made the slightest gesture with the uninjured arm. He said, "I'm leaving the pickup here. I'll come for it after I find Major."
The callous dismissal of everything she'd said was crippling. She gasped, barely heard her own anguished, "Oh, Crow." Above her, the moon spiraled. Stars whirled. She tottered sideways.
Somehow he sensed her distress, caught her as she fell. Dimly, she recalled that happening once before. This time there was no rush of emotion or exciting speculation. She looked up into concerned features inches away. He lifted her until she steadied. He said, "I can't talk to you about love. If I did... You've seen what happens. You mean so much..." He took a deep breath. "I have to go."
Numb with disappointment, she watched darkness swallow him. A tiny piece of her mind said it was an appropriate metaphor. Then she went home.
* * * * *
Crow dressed warmly for his vigil. Drizzling rain touched his face when he stepped outside. In the distance a coyote yipped complaint. Crow retreated to a cabinet and brought out a .45 automatic and shoulder holster. After strapping on the rig, he pulled out two weatherproof ponchos and went out again. It took him several minutes to get a good fire in the pit. Dense smoke roiled from the rain-dampened wood and crawled away through the brush.
Crow settled against an old fir, wearing one poncho, draping his lower body with the second. He was already shivering. Conversationally, he said, "I know you're around, Major. I'll wait. Everything's ok."
The answer was a delicate patter of rain and the irritable crackle and spit from the fire.
Time passed. A superstitious fear of bad luck kept Crow from looking at his watch. The coyotes - several now, and closer - yipped and sang. Rain and fire kept up a monotonous dialogue. The only break was when Crow forced himself to lever upright a body stiffened by wet cold so he could refuel the pit.
Then Major was there. Little more than his white blaze, dim at the edge of the firelight. Softly, Crow said, "Everything's ok, boy, hear? It was an accident, is all. I've cut myself worse shaving. Come on over to me." Smothering a groan, Crow mo
ved to get up.
Major disappeared. No sound, no disturbed brush. Simply gone.
Crushed, Crow slumped back against his tree.
Behind him, Lila said, "He'll be back."
Crow bent around to look at her. "You scared him away."
"I did not. He spooked when you moved. I don't blame him. You didn't say the right things."
"That's crazy."
"Isn't he the same as you? Does that make you crazy, too?"
"What's that mean, 'same as you?'"
She sat down beside him, making a face when her hands touched the wet ground. She wore bright yellow raingear, trousers and jacket with hood. Once settled, she continued, "You've both got the same problem and the same wrong solution. I thought it all out."
"Did you, now?"
She ignored the grating sarcasm. "He's afraid. I can fix it."
"You scared him off. You can't fix that."
She let that pass, too. "When he comes back I want you... Look. There he is."
Crow straightened. Major took a step backward, with one forepaw raised. Lila's whisper was fierce. "Tell him you forgive him."
Crow said, "That's a good boy. Come, Major. Come."
"Tell him. Tell him."
Fake enthusiasm clattered in Crow's voice. "It's ok, boy. I forgive you."
Major lowered the raised paw. Lila whispered again. "Talk to him. He's scared. He wants to come to you."
Crow said, "Don't be afraid. I mean it; I forgive you. You know I do. You know I love you. I can't lose you. I just can't, dog. I forgive. I do."
Major whined, as he had in the church. Crow pressed, reached out a hand from under the poncho. "Come to me. Please. "
Tentatively, the dog advanced, stopping literally every few inches. He'd cast about, scenting the darkness. That done, he'd search Crow's gaze for a moment. Then, head lowered, he'd chance another small, cautious step.
Crow willed himself immobile. In the firelight's glow his outstretched hand trembled like carved ice threatening to shatter.
Lila fought to stifle sobs. Her heart was a runaway, every beat counterpoint to her shivering. Tears scorched her eyes, traced warm streaks on her face.
Major finally came to the welcoming hand. He sniffed it, nuzzled it. Still Crow didn't react. Major licked the fingers. With that, Crow touched the dog's head, painfully rotating his wrist to pet him. He said, "Thank you, you good dog, you. Welcome back."
The dog sat. Sagging forward, it tucked its chin into the juncture of Crow's neck and shoulder. Crow rearranged the ponchos to cover them both. Major lay curled against him.
Lila asked, "Do you realize it's coming on daybreak? Let's get inside."
He wouldn't look at her. He said, "I'm fine. Major needs to warm up a bit. I'll just stay here a while."
She told herself she should've expected it. She told him, "I understand." He didn't move, didn't speak. Getting to her feet was the hardest thing she'd ever done. Once more she walked to her home alone.
* * * * *
It was mid-morning when she heard the odd sound from the front of the building. At first she assumed it was Crow retrieving his pickup. When Zasu trotted to the store's door and sniffed, tail wagging, she was puzzled, but not concerned. On her way past the fireplace she pitched in some wood before moving on to investigate. When she opened the door, Crow stood there in clean clothes and washed up. He wore the Stetson and lowered a rechargeable drill, finishing work on the doorjamb. Major sat next to him. It took her a moment to realize he'd just re-hung the screen door.
She said, "I really don't need that. I'm getting airconditioning."
He put the drill on the floor. "This is yours," then, "I figured. I just thought, you know, since the place is almost done, fixing that loopy door was sort of a symbol."
"It is. Thanks." She smiled and hoped the hurt didn't twist it too badly.
Silence bristled between them. She said, "It's cold. You want some tea before..."
He didn't let her finish. "Yes, please. I want to tell you... I mean, ask you..."
It was almost amusing to see his hands flail as if he'd snatch the right words out of the air. She led into the living room, Major and Zasu padding behind them. It took her a minute to pour hot water from the kettle on the tea bags and return. He was leaning against the mantle. She handed him the mug
We had so little time. But so many memories.
She said, "If you're here to say goodbye, don't. I've had enough of that."
He sipped, spoke to the fire, not her. "You said I'm like my dog. You said tell him I forgive him." Before she could move, he'd put the mug on the mantle and was holding her hands. His were so cold his touch was almost painful.
Chin raised, she took back her hands and jammed them in her jeans pockets. "Warm your hands. They're freezing." He splayed them to the fire's warmth. She continued, "He was afraid. Not that you'd hit him or anything. He was afraid you'd forgive him."
Crow flushed. "That's ridiculous."
"Not to him. He believed what he did was unforgivable. Worse, he didn't know if he had enough love in him to properly appreciate being forgiven. It's a destroying burden. But you already know that. At least the dog got out from under it."
"I know what you're doing. That's religion stuff. Only I'm not God and the dog's not me. It's a stupid idea."
"I've got a million stupid ideas. That's not one of them. You are, though. Stupidest idea I ever had." It felt good. She said it again. "Stupid idea."
She turned away, but treacherous knees betrayed her. She mustered enough control to sink semi-gracefully into her leather chair. It embraced her like a sympathetic mourner.
Crow knelt in front of her, almost touching her. She held her breath, steeled herself to accept what he was, what he was going to tell her, and get through this. He said, "Just listen, please. What you said - the forgiveness thing. I think you may be right." He paused, reddened, looking away. Then, like a small boy doing a recitation, he plowed ahead. "That's not so. I know you're right. I am afraid, just like you said. But now I know it's wrong. I'll deal with it."
"Of course you will. You'll try to run away from it. Look, I get it, ok?"
"That's not what I meant. I'm saying I want to do something about it. About me."
Hope swelled in her like a tidal wave. Experience told her to head for higher ground. "Can you imagine how much I want to believe that? You don't even know what's involved. I talked to Garza tonight. He told me. You'd have to learn to trust somebody. You'd have to accept other people. Not everybody, but some who'd support you, help you deal with things. Go talk to the professionals. Stop running, first off."
"All right. So I don't know all the rules. But I said I want to do something about the way I am, and I mean it."
"You mean you'll get help?" Her heart gave a peculiar hiccup. She told it to back off.
He said, "No."
Under her breath, she said, "See, Lila? Dummy. Told you." He was looking at her strangely. She spoke aloud. "Look, you do what you think's best. Good luck."
He stood up, moved back to the mantel. He held the Stetson to his chest with both hands. The pose was so awkward she thought she'd choke.
Oh, my God, he's practiced this.
He cleared his throat, then, "You were right about Major. And me. I do love you. I wish I could say that all romantic and such. I'm doing the best I can. When you said I was hurting you it like to killed me. I want to help you. Stand by you. I'll do whatever it takes to be the kind of man you want to spend your life with. I want to make you happy. I want to wake up mornings and know I can call your name and hear your voice when you answer. I want to see you smile. Laugh. Hold you in my arms. I love you. I'm asking you to marry me." He stepped closer.
"Yes." It flew out of her mouth so joyous she wasn't sure she'd actually spoken.
Crow kept talking, as earnest as before. "I've got my retirement and I invested part of my pay every month. I can help with the money thing. I'm not just a used-up old grunt; I'm prett
y handy..." He stopped. His eyes widened. "Did you say yes?"
Lila rose, came to him. She was pretty sure if she looked hard enough she'd see sparks popping off her skin. She said, "Yes, I did, and yes, again. Yes forever. I want to be your wife."
He beamed. It faded quickly when she held up a warning finger. She took a deep breath and rushed the words. "There's a condition. I want you happy. I want to make you happy. I can't do that - not completely - unless we go head-on at this PTSD issue. We'll beat it. Together."
The grin was back. "I never thought I could talk about it, not to anyone. I wanted to ask you what I should do. You'd work with me? If you would, I can do anything they tell me to do. I love you. If you're beside me..." He shook his head, a man too full of hope to believe his luck.
Lila laughed out loud, wrapped her arms around him. She said, "I never want to be anywhere else."
He laughed, too. The rumble in his chest was kettle drums and the heavy end of the piano. He said, "That's the wildest thing." He bent back and she looked up into his face. He said, "That's exactly what I told myself on the walk over here. I don't ever want to be anywhere else."
And he pulled her close again, tighter, and kissed her.
It dawned on Lila that'd never happened before. She hoped this one was telling her what the rest would be like. Then she lost herself in it.
Major thudded to the floor in front of the fireplace as if resigned to a long stay. He seemed determined to get used to it.
THE BEGINNING
Afterward
Thanks for your attention to Light The Hidden Things. I appreciate it. If you'd be so kind, would you click on Amazon.com and post a review?As the author, it'd be a great learning experience for me, plus other readers have the benefit of your reaction. Much obliged.
