“The herbs. In my pipe and in my flask. It will wear off soon enough. I can’t keep it up forever. But, neither can you Mary. You will get weaker. It will become harder. Zebadiah needs to know what is going on. Are you going to tell him or shall I? I might have a better idea than either of us telling him. Let me go outside for a smoke and I will consider it.” Cherokee Joe said.
Mary stood back as he got up from the table. He could see in her face she was terrified. Terrified of losing everything she had put together. Terrified of Zebadiah learning the truth. She had to trust Cherokee Joe to get this right. But how?
As Zebadiah came into the kitchen with Joshua in his arms he spun around looking for his friend.
“Where’d Joe go Mary? You didn’t scare him off did you?” Zebadiah said.
Mary looked at him, her eyes down and almost tearful.
“No honey, I don’t think anything could scare that man. He’s gone out to smoke. He’ll be back soon enough.” Mary said.
“Oh heck woman. It don’t smell that bad. He could have smoked it just fine in here.” Zebadiah said.
“It was his choice dear. He thought it might be bad for Joshua perhaps so he went outside.” Mary replied.
“Well okay. How about you pass us a couple more beers. Better yet I’ll break out the shine. It’s damn good to have my buddy around. Real good. Nice fella isn’t he?” Zebadiah said.
“Yes Zeb honey. He’s a fine man. Like no other I’ve ever met. Yes, get your moonshine baby. I think tonight might be a good night for it.” Mary said.
Zebadiah passed Mary the baby and went into the bottom of the larder. Hiding in the bottom, under an old towel, was a large jar of moonshine. He dragged it out and plonked it on the sink. He reached for a couple of glasses and placed them on the table just as Cherokee Joe walked back into the kitchen.
“Perfect timing Joe. Sit yerself down and try a glass of Pa’s clear nectar. Finest drink you’ll ever taste.” Zebadiah said.
Cherokee Joe lowered himself into a chair and took the glass. “Here’s to you Zebadiah and your new wife and child.” He looked over at Mary who was staring back at him as he made the toast. “You know what you forgot Mary? You know what Zebadiah should really have?”
“What would that be Joe?” Mary asked nervously.
“Well, the one thing a returning hero should always have when he gets home. A homecoming party.” Cherokee Joe said smiling.
Mary shuffled uncomfortably at the sink as she glared at Cherokee Joe.
“A homecoming, Joe? Hey let me tell you man, I spent enough time in that town since I got back to know they are the last people I want around my house. Mary and Joshua is all I need for a homecoming.” Zebadiah said.
“I hear you Razzer. But I think between Mary and myself we could pull a few people together you might like to spend an evening with. Isn’t that right Mary?” Cherokee Joe replied.
“Well!” Mary said. “If you think that’s what Zebadiah needs then perhaps I could arrange something. Why don’t you boys fill up those glasses and take them to the creek. You can have a smoke and a chat while I see to Joshua. Yes?”
“Sounds like a good idea Mary. Come on Razzer. Top us up and let’s go make up some war stories.” Cherokee Joe said, smiling at Mary.
“Well sure, sure. But like I said. I got all the folk I need right here right now. I don’t need any more homecoming than what I already got, okay?” Zebadiah said.
They stood up as Zebadiah refilled the glasses and made their way outside.
The sun was just short of setting now and long shadows curled over the mountains and under the trees. A golden glow set the creek sparkling in a rainbow of colors as they made their way down and settled on the grass.
Cherokee Joe took out his pipe and slowly filled it from a pouch in his pocket. As Zebadiah lit himself a cigarette, Joe gently tugged on the pipe.
“You got a good woman there Razzer. A good woman and a fine son. But I got to tell you my friend, life is stranger than you can ever imagine. After all you’ve been through, you need to know it can get a whole lot stranger.” Cherokee Joe said as he set down the pipe and took a sip of the moonshine. He savored it as he stared across the glowing water of the creek.
“Stranger? How stranger? What you talking about Joe? That shine gone to your head already? As you said, I got a fine wife and a fine son. I got all I need in this world Joe. The rest of 'em can all go do one. I don’t need any part of that world no more.” Zebadiah replied.
“Well, let’s get back to the house. Maybe Mary is ready to surprise us with some of that fine cooking or maybe something else.” Cherokee Joe said.
They returned to the kitchen where Mary was waiting for them. She was again stood at the kitchen sink looking fretful.
“I guess this is it then.” Mary said clutching her hands together tightly. “I hope you’re right about this Joe.”
Cherokee Joe nodded to her in encouragement.
“Zebadiah darling. Shall we go through to the front room? I have something of a surprise for you. Joe helped organize it.” Mary continued.
“Eh? How could Joe organize anything? You only just met. What you all been messing around at, hey?” Zebadiah replied.
“Your homecoming sweetheart. We secretly organized your homecoming. Yes it’s a surprise. Please go on through to the sitting room.” Mary said leading them through the front hall to the room opposite. It was a room they barely ventured in to. A dining room table with chairs and a couple of comfy chairs at the walls were surrounded by plate shelves loaded with years of ornaments and bric-a-brac. Nothing of any value and not much of any use. Most of it had been collected by Zebadiah’s mother. The room was kept tidy but left shut. They were happier to sit in the kitchen, eating and chatting through the day. No need for a sitting room at all really except for those few occasions. Tonight seemed to be one.
Mary stepped into the room and turned to face Zebadiah.
“Welcome home my darling. We are all so glad you got home safe.”
A cheer and clapping started as Zebadiah entered the room. Sitting at the top of the table was his father with a huge cheerful grin on his face. He stood up and applauded as Zebadiah entered the room. Beside him, Zebadiah’s mother. She was clapping with glee as she made her way around the table to Zebadiah. And standing at the door end of the table, within touching distance of Zebadiah, was Jethro Mullen. Jethro reached out and gave Zebadiah a huge hug just as his mother was closing on him. She too joined the pair and hugged her son.
Zebadiah was in a whirl. He swayed as he looked round the room at all the faces. All faces he knew and all people he knew to be dead. That was one thing he did know. Every last one of these people were dead. Except. Except Lieutenant Simpson. He wasn’t dead. Why was he here?
He gazed at the smiling face of the Lieutenant and mouthed. “You too Lieutenant? You dead too?”
Lieutenant Simpson nodded and moved over to join Jethro and Zebadiah’s mother.
“Bought it one day before I was due to ship home. Won’t believe this Razzer but it was one of our own damn gunships blew me away. The same damn chopper I’d called in to take out a machine gun. Came right over us and sawed through me like I was a log at the saw mill. Good to see you son. Happy homecoming!”
As he felt his legs slowly giving way and his head beginning to spin, he felt the strong arms of Cherokee Joe take his weight and lower him gently into a chair. As he looked around all he could see were a swirl of familiar faces moving in and out of focus. All wishing him a happy homecoming and welcome home. He closed his eyes and lowered his head.
“Well John Longfeathers. That isn’t quite what you planned was it?” Mary snapped.
Cherokee Joe looked back at her smiling and looked down at Zebadiah.
“Nothing is ever as planned. But now he knows and that was the plan. He has people here that he loved and felt secure with. This is the only way he will ever understand Mary.” Cherokee Joe said.
“Give him a s
lug of my sipping whiskey. That’ll bring him around. If it don’t send him sleeping for the next hundred years.” Zebadiah’s father laughed.
“Yes I think perhaps a drink might knock off some of the shock. Poor dear.” Zebadiah’s mother replied.
Cherokee Joe tilted back Zebadiah’s head and gently eased a glass of moonshine to his lips. He tipped it into his mouth. Zebadiah gulped and sat upright. His eyes wide and scanning the room. He knew what scared was. He’d been scared as a child and sometimes on Halloween he’d been absolutely terrified at the older kids 'Trick or Treat' costumes. He’d seen horrors in Vietnam that woke him up at night shaking in fear. Real terror. Yes he guessed he knew real terror. But now, he was sitting in his living room with a group of people he knew were dead. Really dead. The only people alive here were himself, Joe and of course his wife and son. Everyone else in this room was dead. He’d even seen Jethro blown into pieces. Dead was the only place that guy would ever be. All dead.
“Momma. Pa. You’re dead. I know that. This is just a dream right? Or am I missing something? Am I dead too?” Zebadiah asked pitifully at his mother. She sat down beside him.
“It’s time for some truths baby. Time now you knew what is going on. Your friend Joe here came at just the right time to try to make things right with you. Yes I’m dead. Heart attack. That letter I wrote you wasn’t true son. I was angry is all. Mary was taking over the house and getting it ready for you and little Joshua. I kept nagging at her. Kept getting in her face. Poor girl couldn’t do right for doing wrong in my eyes. Well we had a fight. I threw things and Mary tried to stop me. I didn’t know I’d knocked one of the oil lamps over in the kitchen. This old place was dry as a bone and went up like a fourth of July firework. Your sweet wife tried to stop the fire from spreading and was trying to get me and the baby outside. I fell. I was old son. Too old to get away. My poor heart gave way. Mary and the baby died on top of me. The house just fell right in on them. I’m so sorry I sent that letter son. Mary was a good girl and she loved you more than anything in the world.” Zebadiah’s mother said.
“Zeb? Zeb?” Mary said as she took his head in her hands.
“I just wanted you to have a wonderful home to come back to darling. I’m so sorry. This isn’t lying honey. It was the only way I could keep us together. But Joe is right. It gets harder with each passing day.”
“Harder? How do you mean harder? What gets harder?” Zebadiah asked.
“She means her power to keep you enchanted. The power to keep this illusion of the house and everything in it together. There is very little time left for her. It is incredible she has held it together this long.” Cherokee Joe said.
“So she’s a ghost you mean. They are all ghosts. I’ve been tricked into believing all this is real. So what happens now? They all disappear? I’m left sitting in a ruin? What Joe? What?” Zebadiah snapped. “Are you real? Or are you one of them?” he finished as he scanned around the room at the now silent faces looking back at him.
“Well perhaps tricked isn’t quite how it happened. Mary didn’t exactly choose to do this.” Cherokee Joe replied.
“She didn’t? Then some evil spirit thought they’d play a practical joke on a cripple?” Zebadiah replied.
“No. not at all. Quite the opposite. Love did it. Even dead, Mary couldn’t stop her love and it was so powerful it created this. You were all she ever wanted in life and all she ever wanted in death. There was nothing evil involved, just an immense outpouring of all her soul into this one place." Cherokee Joe replied.
“Then why does it have to end? If you all leave, why can’t I just carry on with my wife and child? This illusion is better than any life I saw down in the town. We can manage just fine here without anyone.” Zebadiah said.
“I can’t Zeb darling. I don’t know why, but I can feel it getting weaker. I know you saw me disappear sometimes. I know you saw me in bed falling to pieces. It wasn’t a dream honey. I just couldn’t always hold it together. Soon I won’t be able to hold it together at all. Joshua and me will be gone forever and you will be left in this ruin of a house alone. I’m sorry darling. I gave you a false hope. I gave myself a false hope. But Joe is right. It’s coming to an end.” Mary said.
“So how do we fix it?” Zebadiah asked. “I can’t live in this place without you Mary. I can’t do it. I’ll kill myself before I let you go again.” He dropped his head in his hands and for the first time he could remember as an adult, he wept great sobbing tears. He sobbed and sobbed and feeling the hands of his mother on his shoulders didn’t ease the pain.
“Don’t go talking of killing yourself Zebadiah. You’re my son and I gave you life. It is a wrong and evil thing to give away such a precious gift, for whatever reason. Even love, my son.” Zebadiah’s mother whispered as he hugged his sobbing head.
Zebadiah sat himself upright, his face red from the tears. He reached for the glass of moonshine in front of him and started drinking.
“Go easy on that son. That’s not the cheap stuff.” His father chided.
“Pa, if a man ever needed a drink, I think round about now might be the time, right?” Zebadiah replied.
“Well, I can’t say as your wrong there son, but just take it easy and lets think things through. There’s an answer somewhere. Might not be right obvious and might not be what we expect but it’ll be there. Ain’t that right young Injun?”
Cherokee Joe looked across at Zebadiah’s father.
“I think we all know the answer. All of us here know the answer. How we deliver the answer is the problem. I am neither wise enough nor brave enough to put it forward.”
Zebadiah turned to face Cherokee Joe. “You mean I need to kill myself Joe, is that it? Kill myself and we can be together forever and proper? Is that what you mean Joe? Well Ma said I wasn’t going to kill myself. Now I don’t know much about ghosts but I have a sneaky feeling, none of these folk here are able to kill me. Am I right?”
Cherokee Joe nodded and a murmur of agreement went around the room.
“So. If I can’t kill myself and these folk here can’t kill me then all that’s left is you Joe. You got to kill me. Can you do it Joe? Can you kill your buddy so he can spend the rest of eternity with his wife and kid?” Zebadiah said reaching back for the moonshine.
“I have seen a lot of men die Razzer. A lot. And I’ve killed my share too. But they would have killed me if I hadn’t. I see them every night the same as you do. But kill my friend? No. That is not something I could ever close my eyes to. I would never be able to sleep again.” Cherokee Joe said.
“Then I have to do it myself.” Zebadiah said as he gulped down the last of the moonshine and smashed the jar on the table. In his hand he held a long menacing sliver of the broken jar. It glinted in his hand as he began to lower it to his wrist.
“NO! STOP!” Zebadiah’s mother yelled as she hugged him tight around his chest.
“Ma please! It’s the only option I have.” Zebadiah snapped back.
“I don’t think it is an option son. Far from it. I think it could ruin everything you had or might have.” His mother said.
“What? Why? I think we already said the only way for us to be together was to die. I can’t have Joe do it so the only way I can do it is to do it myself. You understand that right? I just want this over with. I just want to be with Mary and my child. It’s okay for you. You’re with Pa. Just let me do it.” Zebadiah said.
“No son it’s not that. Look around you. See anybody here that killed themselves? We don’t know what happens to folk that commit suicide. We just don’t know. There’s a chance you won’t come back to us at all. If you stay alive, we know we’ll be seeing you again sometime. If you die then we’ll be having a proper homecoming for ya. But die by your own hand son and we just don’t know. If it isn’t here then where? Wherever it is it will be for eternity so think on it son please.” Zebadiah’s mother begged.
“She’s right son. Dyin’ sure ain’t like livin’. It’s complicated to expl
ain and so easy to understand once you’re here. Not that that makes much of a lot of sense to you right now. But no we don’t know what happens to folk that go take their own life. But if you are wanting to be with Mary and the babe then you need to think on what your Ma said to you son.” Zebadiah’s dad chipped in as he poured himself a glass from a newly opened mason jar.
The crowd around the room were all nodding and muttering in agreement.
“Pass me a glass of that please Pa. I’m starting to feel a might thirsty for some of it right now.” Zebadiah said as he pushed his empty glass towards his father. He turned to Cherokee Joe who was standing off to one side observing the conversation.
“Joe?” His eyes implored as he looked towards his friend.
Cherokee Joe shuffled on the spot then leaned forward to the table. “I think I will need a glass of that too Mister Rasnake, Sir. I don’t think even my father or my grandfather would believe what I’m witnessing now. Sure we talked it through and yes they danced with the spirits. We knew it was for a moment and we knew without the smoke and the herbs it wasn’t going to happen. We had to believe it or it was all just illusion. This is an illusion I’m struggling to take in too. I always knew you were real. I always knew I could walk among you as my ancestors did. I just didn’t expect it ever to be as real as it is now.”
“Your father would be proud of you Joe. Let me top up that glass for you.” Zebadiah’s father said as he reached over again to top up the tall man’s glass.
“Tonight, we need an answer and I believe Joe here might have it.”
Chapter 10
“I think it’s time me and you took a walk outside Razzer. I need myself a smoke.” Cherokee Joe said. As Zebadiah stood up and made his way to the door, Cherokee Joe turned to Mary. “Once we’re outside, could you give us reality back for a while?”
Mary nodded. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing Joe?” She asked.
“I’m sure of nothing Mary. This is way bigger than anything I’ve ever experienced.
Professor next Door Page 22
