by Dale Mayer
“Maybe,” he said. “Mentally as well. Thank you for that journal. I know I thanked you once, but I didn’t really realize at the time how much it has helped. But it has.”
“Good,” she said. “I’ve barely taken the time to write in mine.”
“I was wondering if you can get me a second one.”
She stared at him in surprise, but, with a pleased smile, she nodded. “Absolutely. When do you need it?”
He shrugged. “I’m probably fine for the rest of this week.”
That startled a laugh out of her. “That must be an interesting read.”
“Nobody will read it,” he said. “I plan to rip out all the pages and tear it apart afterward, maybe in a fire ceremony.”
“I’ve heard that has helped a lot of people too,” she said.
“It still feels a bit stupid though.”
“It’s not about feeling stupid. Remember?”
“I know,” he said. “It’s about doing what needs to be done. Getting my thoughts on paper.”
“Exactly.” She smiled and said, “Now I have to head to work.”
“And I’ll go get breakfast,” he said with a laugh.
And that’s the last she saw of him for a couple days. She did manage to get into town midweek and returned to the dollar store, but the same journal wasn’t there anymore. Frowning, she headed to several other stores, but she wasn’t impressed with those journals at all. She went to a discount store. As she wandered through, she asked one of the clerks. She took her to a large stationary section. There, she found two black journals. They weren’t necessarily the same quality or the same type, and they were certainly double the price she’d paid last time, but she bought one for him.
As she headed back to Hathaway House, she put it on the seat beside her and drove all the way to her apartment. There, she grabbed Iain’s newest journal and headed out for dinner, but she saw no sign of him. Frowning, she worried about that, but she ate her dinner and then headed down the hallway to his room.
When she knocked on his door, he called out, “Come in.”
She opened the door and poked her head around. “Hey. You up for some company?”
He groaned. “I should be, but I’m pretty tired today.”
She held out the journal and said, “I just wanted to give you this.”
His face lit up. “Thanks,” he said.
“It’s the only color I could find,” she said.
“Color doesn’t matter,” he said. “Now that I’m into this groove, I feel like I need to just keep pouring everything out.”
“Understood,” she said. And, with a smile, she turned and walked to the doorway. She stopped though and asked, “Did you get any dinner?”
He shook his head. “Honestly, I’m too tired.”
“How about I pick you up something and bring it back?” He hesitated, and she shook her head. “Remember? I’m just being of service, like Dennis. It’s not the same as having to ask for help.”
“Hardly,” he said, “but, … if you could find me something simple, … not too much though.”
She nodded and headed back down, then snagged Dennis and told him that Iain was laid up in bed and asked if Dennis could put a plate together for Iain. And before long, she had a full tray. She was afraid it might be too much food, but he didn’t have to eat it all, if that was the case. She made her way back and had left the door open so she could nudge it with her foot, then she headed inside and placed the tray down.
“You asleep?” she asked him softly. As his chest rose and fell, she realized he really had crashed on her. She went to lift the covers and realized he was holding the first journal open with his pen. She took the pen from his fingers, placed it down nearby, picked up the journal, and went to close it but caught sight of her name.
She warred with herself to not read it and then read one line that had been underlined, and it said, Future uncertain. Frowning, she quickly closed his journal, put it down on the table, pulled the covers up over his shoulders, and left. She closed the door behind her, wondering just what was going on in that mind of his. She really wanted to read his journal but knew that wasn’t fair or right. It was intrusive and would probably just confuse the matter because, like he said, it had been ramblings, words that needed to get out of his head. But that mention of her was hard to let go of.
She headed back to her apartment, confused and more than a little worried about just what their future was.
Iain woke the next morning to see a tray of food sitting beside him and remembered asking her to get him something. “Crap,” he said. He was covered in a blanket too, which meant that she’d returned with the food, covered him up, put his journal and pen to the side, and left him here. He sighed and shifted his body, wondering at just how tired he really was. He’d made all sorts of progress last night as he had sifted through some of his feelings of insecurity and failure from his childhood.
They weren’t even big issues, but they were momentous enough for him to remember, and he’d worked hard at releasing them and forgiving everybody involved, including himself. Now he just felt fairly emotionally overwrought. He got up and managed a hot shower. And, by the time he was dressed, he was feeling fine but emotionally tired. He made his way to and in his wheelchair and headed to breakfast.
As soon as he saw him, Dennis asked how was dinner.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was asleep when Robin brought it back.”
Dennis nodded. “I’ll collect the tray later,” he said. “Sleep is always the best answer.”
Iain realized he should have brought it back with him. “And I was obviously too tired this morning to think about bringing the tray back myself,” he said. “I’m sorry. I could have saved you a trip.”
“Have to get my exercise somehow,” Dennis said with a big smile. With that, he served up breakfast and carried it over to the deck to eat. By the time Iain was done and made it to his first appointment, Shane was sitting at the computer, waiting for him.
“We’ll run through a bunch of tests and do a progress report,” Shane said. “It’s been eight weeks since you’ve been here, so it’s perfect timing.” He quickly took a bunch of measurements from Iain’s legs, waist, hips, and had him stand. Then he took a bunch of photographs, the same ones that he had done as part of his initial intake analysis and then, when he sat him down, Shane said, “So let’s go through some of these.”
“Is there anything to go through?” Iain asked.
“There definitely is,” Shane said. “Take a look.” And there in the file were his stats.
Iain realized that his thigh—his chicken thigh—had gained three and a half inches in bulk around the top of the thigh and a good two inches around the base of it. He stared at that data in shock. He looked down at his leg and said, “You know what? Robin did say something about my thigh looking a lot better now, but I hadn’t seen it.”
“Well, this’ll help,” Shane said. And he brought up two pictures side by side on the monitor.
Iain stopped, stared, sucked his breath back, and went, “Wow.”
“Now you look me in the eye and tell me,” Shane said, “when you look at these two pictures of your thigh—when you first arrived and your thigh now, today—has there been any progress?”
Something inside had broken free, something needing to crack and to collapse around him, releasing something he didn’t quite understand. But he could feel hope. He could feel a sense of life and a sense of something inside himself bursting free as he stared at those images. He smiled a huge grateful smile, a beaming smile. “I don’t know how you did it,” he said, “but that’s not just progress. That’s incredible progress.” Shane lifted a high five, and Iain slapped it hard and said, “Whoa, can we repeat that?”
“I fully intend to,” Shane said. “I think it’s important that you take a look at this.” And he opened another folder he had on his desk, then held up two pictures. One was a mangled-up leg, and one was a he
althy, strong leg.
“And whose are those?”
“Another patient who was here about six months ago,” he said. “This was his before, and this was his after photo.”
Iain stared at them, and he could feel tears in his eyes. “Why didn’t you show me that when I first arrived?”
“Because it was too far in the future for you to fully grasp,” he said. “But now that you can see this much progress in your own body, I can make sure that you get this as your end result.”
And, for that, Iain would give anything. “If you can do that,” he said, “you’re a miracle worker.”
Shane grinned. “Not me,” he said. “You. I don’t do this. You do this.”
Chapter 13
Maybe Robin had picked up something from Iain’s mood, but it seemed like her life was off today too. When Dani called her into her office at the end of the day, Robin was surprised and worried. As she walked in, she sat down with a hard thump. “Problems?”
Dani looked up at her in surprise and then laughed. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “No, there’s absolutely no problem.” She shook her head. “I keep forgetting that I’m the boss, and often people get nervous when I ask to speak with them.”
“Especially when we’ve had such a hard week downstairs,” Robin explained. “Stan is beside himself with all the paperwork.”
Immediately Dani frowned. “Does he need help down there?”
“I don’t think so. We’ve got one of the gals on holiday, and she handles most of the bookkeeping.”
Dani rolled her eyes. “We all need holidays, but covering for people off on holidays can be a real pain.”
“So, is there a reason why you called me up?”
She laughed. “There is. I wanted to ask you a personal question.” She hesitated and looked at the door. “You mind shutting the door, please?”
Robin hopped up, closed the door, sat back down again, and said, “Does this have something to do with Iain?”
Dani’s eyebrows rose. “Direct. I like that,” she said. “Yes, it does.”
“I hope it’s okay that we formed a friendship,” Robin said anxiously. “I never honestly gave it a thought.”
“It absolutely is okay,” Dani said reassuringly. “The only time I intervene is if I can see that it’s slowing down or completely stopping one of the patient’s healing. As long as everything is moving forward, then I don’t have any objection.”
“Is there a problem with Iain?”
“No,” she said. “I think he’s had a breakthrough.”
“Well, that would be wonderful,” Robin said emphatically. “And I think it’s long overdue.”
Dani’s eyebrows rose. “Tell me more.”
Then, suddenly realizing that she was talking about Iain behind his back, Robin sank into her chair and said, “I’d rather not. It feels odd.”
“Understood,” Dani said. “As much as I’d like to know what you know, I do respect that you don’t want to talk about him. I just wondered how serious it was on your part.”
“I don’t know,” Robin said. “We haven’t got that far, but I really like him.”
“Good,” Dani said. “According to Shane, you seem to be a strong motivator for Iain.”
“And I guess that’s a good thing, providing we’re all on the same page.”
“Exactly,” Dani said with half a smile. “Which is why I’m asking how serious it is on your part. I’d hate to see him have a setback anywhere in the next six weeks while we sort out how far he can actually go.”
“But neither do I want to be something that I’m not in order to keep his progress going,” Robin said slowly. “So I guess it’s a good thing that I really like the man, huh?”
Dani burst into a bright and light laughter, filling the room and spreading beyond. Robin had spent a fair bit of time with Dani since she’d arrived here but never really on a one-to-one basis. People were always around Dani. Robin really liked the woman and loved her heart. “I’ll tell you one of the odd things about Iain was we get into these really philosophical questions,” she said. “Or maybe more like New Age healing kind of questions. I bought him some journals to write in.”
“I saw those,” Dani said in surprise. “I wondered where he’d gotten them. Of course everybody is allowed to have stuff like that, but often I offer journals for people, if they need them.”
“Well, the first one,” Robin said, “I just picked up at the dollar store, and he filled that one fairly quickly, which really surprised me. So then I got him a second one.”
“It’s a lovely gift,” Dani said warmly. “It’s not just the gift itself but it’s the opening up of a doorway that allows somebody to help heal his own problems.”
“I thought it might help him. Me too. In a way, I’m used to being alone, and I find that sometimes interacting with somebody on a personal level makes me feel awkward,” she tried to explain.
“A long time since your last relationship?”
“Yes, certainly. A few months before I came here,” she said. “And definitely a relationship that wasn’t healthy. So I was grateful for a chance to leave and to get a start fresh.”
“As long as starting fresh isn’t …” And then her voice fell away.
Robin nodded. “As long as starting fresh isn’t trying to hide, you mean?”
Dani nodded with relief in her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “Then I realized how personal I was being, and it wasn’t my job to poke at you.”
At that, Robin started to chuckle. “Versus poking at the patients here?”
“Exactly,” Dani said. “You’re not one of the patients coming here to grow and to learn.”
“But I don’t see how anybody can’t grow and learn while here,” she said. “Just so much healing is going on around us that it’s almost impossible to stay unaffected.”
“Exactly,” she said. “But, in an odd way, sometimes you can become dulled to it because there’s just so much of it. We see the same thing over and over again. Yet it’s always different. It always has a different face, always has a bit of a different twist, as it’s individualized per patient. But you become almost accepting that it’s happening, and then you become blasé about it.”
“Maybe for you,” Robin said. “I haven’t been here that long or had the same interactions that you have had. I deal with the animals downstairs, and it often amazes me just how much healing they accomplish all on their own, without any of this head stuff. Whereas we humans make life so difficult and so complicated. If we could get out of our own heads, our bodies know exactly what to do.”
Dani stopped, stared at her for a long moment, and then nodded. “I agree completely,” she said. “It’s one of the reasons I love my horses, and I love the freedom of when they can just run and go for miles. Sometimes I used to do that to get away from my problems and my troubles, whereas the horses didn’t seem to have that same issue. They just ran because it was beautiful to run, and it felt good. It was freeing, and they loved the sensation. I loved it too, but, for me, it was more—at the time—a case of needing to get away. Now I ride because I’m in the same space as the horses. I love the freedom it offers me and just the sense of enjoying the wind in my face and their muscles underneath my legs.” She gave her a smile.
“Iain misses horses,” she said abruptly.
Dani stopped, looked at her, and then gave a clipped nod. “I think I remember something about that from when he first arrived.” She shuffled papers on her desk. “We could also talk to him about doing some horse therapy.”
“I think he would absolutely love anything that would get him back to horses, even if it just means going out for a couple hours.”
“Has someone told him that he’s allowed to be down there at the stables or in the outlying pastures?” Dani asked with a frown.
“I’m not sure,” Robin said. “I think it would be a wonderful gift for him.”
“Maybe I’ll go talk to him now,” Dani said. “I’ve got a bun
ch of other horses coming in. They’re traveling through the countryside and needed a place to unload to give the horses a rest from the long trip.”
“Well, that will be nice. Are they friends of yours?” she asked curiously.
“Yes, they are,” she said. “I’ve got twelve gooseneck trailers coming in, hauling up to forty-eight show horses.”
Robin’s jaw dropped.
Dani laughed. “There’ll be quite a few horses to see, if you’re around this weekend,” she said. “Obviously we need to be extra careful. The horses are allowed to have their own space, but I’ll be moving all our animals over at least one or two pastures.” At this, she looked out her window, as if she hadn’t decided exactly what she would do yet. “But I think maybe, if Iain’s around, we can get him down, at least in the wheelchair, where he can visit with the horses a little bit.”
“I’m sure he’d love that. I caught him out with Hoppers on the lawn here not too long ago,” she said with a laugh. “He just wanted to see Hoppers out of his cage and running free for a bit.”
“And, whether he knows it or not, that’s synonymous with how he feels himself,” Dani said with a smile. “Thanks for reminding me about his love of horses. I’ll see if I can come up with something.”
“I don’t know if he’s seen any of the progress that we all see yet,” Robin said, “but if he has, maybe as a reward?”
“Interesting,” Dani said. “Rewards are something that we try not to hand out because we think every day showing up for the rehab deserves a reward, and, therefore, very quickly they almost become meaningless. But maybe as a treat.”
“Same diff,” she said. “Not quite, I know, but it does effectively address what I was hoping for.”
“Let me see if I can swing this so soon,” she said. “It’ll be a busy weekend, so I don’t know if I can make anything happen at this point.”
“Not necessary either,” Robin said, standing up. “Just nice to know that maybe he can make some time for himself down there.”
