In Limbo (15 page)

Chapter 2
3

              Our spirits soared as we reached the black top highway, and we walked with renewed vigor at a faster pace.  But not for long, soon my feet were burning, those cheap, light canvas shoes provided no support. I could feel blisters forming, but somehow I kept going.

              “I hope you have at least a basic idea of where you are going?” I said, just for the sake of saying something .

              “Well, I do. I’m trying to keep us going down river, because that’s where Tom is headed.  Somewhere along the way I’m hoping to find a farm or maybe we’ll run into someone, anything.”

              My feet were on fire now, every step like salt rubbing in an open wound and I knew that some of my blisters had burst. I wouldn’t allow myself to stop, I couldn’t.   I thought of Tom and I thought of Marty and I thought of Allen. I missed him and Tom so much.  Automatically I just  set one foot in front of the other without thinking, left, right, left, right, Tom, Allen, Tom, Allen......

             
The sun burned merciless down on the tar.  The heat and humidity combined with the noise of the cicadas hypnotized me. Somewhere along the way I had lost my hat and although we walked on the shady side of the road, I was sweating profusely and swatting at flies. I focused on Tom and  Allen. Although I missed Allen, at this moment I missed Tom more. I could feel my heart racing whenever I thought of him.  What would I do if something happened to him? I could not imagine my life without him. Funny, I never once thought that something could happen to me and how he would live without me. I thought of our early days, before we were married, before we had Allen. And suddenly I felt very old, sad and scared.

             
Tom has always been such a gentle, caring person. I used to think of him as my knight in shining armor, he was always there to rescue me from the fierce dragons. It didn’t matter what dragons I was up against, problems at work, problems with my parents, a speeding ticket, Tom was there for me.

             
Mostly he listened and let me talk, and he’d hug me, hold me and rub my back and everything would come right back into focus for me.  What had seemed a crisis, suddenly no longer was of importance.

             
I wished for time to stop, for us to be able to go back to before this horrible trip and for us to choose not to go. At least for time to stop long enough for Tom to catch up and be with me. I knew I could handle anything and everything if Tom was with me. But he wasn’t and I was still walking along a hot blacktop country road out in the middle of nowhere, wishing for someone to come along, anyone, so we could get to our destination faster and put this nightmare behind us.

             
Being with Sam was better than being alone, but it wasn’t the same as being with Tom. Right foot, left foot, right foot left foot, I kept walking, one foot in front of the other. I no longer cared about the sweat pouring off me, plastering my hair to my head.  You can do this, I told myself.  Remember what Tom always says, you’re strong, you’re tough, you can do anything you make up your mind to do. 

             
Sam, a few steps ahead of me looked dazed and just as sweaty.  Right foot, left foot, right foot left foot. I noticed that my steps were in synch with Sam’s.  Without noticing it, I had even matched the length of my strides to his. I chuckled and tried deliberately to change the rhythm and the length of my steps, but it didn’t work and so I gave up.

             
Where would Tom be now? Did he get enough sleep last night? Did he miss me last
night? Is he missing me now?  What would I do if he too was killed on this trip? Would Allen and I be able to make it?  Right there and then, on that hot country road I decided not to think that thought, ever again. We would be together, Tom and Allen and I. I would see to that. I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath and felt a burst of energy.

              What would Sam do now?  How would he explain what happened to Marty to their kids? How would he go on? He had always seemed so devoted to Marty. Once he got home, everywhere he looked there would be reminders of her. I really felt sorry for him, poor man. We
used to tease him mercilessly about his devotion to Marty. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot.....

              I remembered how Tom and I had talked about Sam and Marty, how we had wondered what they talked about or if they even talked to each other. What did Sam see in Marty? How could such a bright, outgoing fella be married a narcissistic airhead?

             
My feet were beyond sore, they felt numb and I told myself, that once we all were back in our homes, I would not take another step and eventually I would never again wear another pair of cheap, flimsy canvas shoes. Period .

              Suddenly Sam jumped into the road, frantically waving his arms. I almost ran into him, my mind took some time to recognize what he was doing, while my feet kept on beating a rhythm into the pavement. But there was Sam, in the middle of the road, waving his arms and jumping up and down . I finally heard the vehicle approaching, glad Sam had pretty good hearing.  It was an old, banged up, scratched-up, dull brownish - orange pick-up truck, the driver a man of undeterminably age, most of his wrinkled face hidden by the visor of his cap.  He pulled over next to Sam and yelled out of the passenger window. 

             
“Mornin!  Y’all need help?”   

              “Yes!” We both shouted in unison.  “Can we get a lift?” 

              He just waved us into the cab, pushed the passenger door open and we hopped in.

Sam sat in the middle and once I slammed the door shut and hun
g my arm out of the open window I actually had plenty of room.  The old man extended his right hand to Sam.

             
“The name’s  Elmer Stubblefield,  just call me Ben. You folks not from around here, are you?”

             
Sam and I shook hands with Elmer, called Ben.

              “No, not really, my Grandma used to live over near Hooper’s Ferry, ‘til she passed away a couple of years ago.”

              “Is that right?  What’s your Grandma’s name?” 

             
“Alma Louise Evans, she had a little farm, couple of miles from the old ferry, by the old Buckner place.”

              “Is that right?”

             
The old man pushed his cap back revealing a pair of sparkling blue eyes and a head full of thick snow white hair.

              “You must be the little rascal that used to go squirrel hunting on my place all the time. Shot out a couple of windows in the process.” 

             
Sam turned and looked at him closer, a look of recognition on his face.

“Hey, how about that. Isn’t that something?” 

             
The old man shifted and the truck slowly started to move. 

             
“And who’s that pretty young lady there with you? The wife?”

              I had to laugh. “No,” I said. “ No, I’m just a friend.”

              That was greeted with a raised eyebrow and a noncommittal, “Oh, I see.”  

             
Sam had tensed up.  I could only imagine the emotions churning in him.

“No, Mr. Stubblefield,” he said quietly. “A bunch of us went floating on the river and there’s been an accident, my wife died in that accident yesterday. Chris’s husband and the rest of the group are still on the river, we walked out to get help.”  

             
There was a moment of silence, I could only see portions of the old man’s face, but he suddenly looked tired. 

              “Accident? What happened, if you don’t mind me asking.”

              “I don’t mind.”  Sam’s voice calm, too calm.  “I really can’t explain it. We had this trip
pretty well planned. Marty got sick the first night out. I kinda think it was a combination of too much sun, too much heat and some new medication she been taking. We got into some rough water. Didn’t realize how much the river had dropped while we were planning this outing. Couple of our canoes collided. Marty fell in and was too sick to keep herself above water. We got to her in time and at first she seemed to be ok, but then she just died on me. Real strange. Real strange.”

             
We continued on in silence, I certainly didn’t know what to say.

              “Yep,” the old man finally said as we continued to roll slowly down the road.  “I can remember when my Emily died. It was real hard to keep going after her passing. And you don’t have any idea what happened?” 

             
I wished he would step on the gas, speed up or something, anything. I did not want to go through a lengthy conversation about something I could not comprehend let alone explain. I just wanted to get this trip over with. I wanted to be back at home, with Tom, with Allen and feel safe and clean again.

              Sam did not seem to be nearly as troubled as I was by the conversation.

             
“I don’t rightly know what actually happened, Mr. Stubblefield. We started out on that trip and everything was fine, but by the first evening she was feeling pretty lousy. She had been on some medications and we’ve been thinking that she may have had some kind of a reaction to that medication, but I’m not so sure. She just kept getting sicker and sicker and then she just died. Right out there!”

             
“And she was fine before you all left?” 

             
“Yes sir, sure was, everything was ok, until that first afternoon actually. She just suddenly got real sick and she kept on getting sicker, no matter what we tried. Of course we did not have a lot to work with. We never expected anything like that to happen.”

              “And you have no idea what could have caused her death?”

              “No, sir. I sure don’t. Marty was healthy, she was a real health nut. Sure, I have my
quirks, but she was real serious about it. Always taking vitamins, and eating low fat food and going to exercise classes. All that stuff. Then she just got sick on me. First she just had a headache. She thought that she might have had too much sun. You know how that is. When you haven’t been outside much and suddenly you sit in a boat on a river in the bright sun all day, you can easily get too much of it. But she took a couple of Aspirin and that didn’t help at all. Then she started to run a real high fever, I think she may have even had seizures from the fever. We gave her some more Aspirin, but it didn’t help much. She just died.”

             
There was a moment of silence. I shifted around in the seat and looked out of the back window into the truck bed. There was a little, black calf in the back of Mr. Stubblefield’s truck.  It was just laying there on some straw. I couldn’t help but stare at it. When I first looked out the back window, I had thought the little thing was sleeping, but then I looked a little closer and saw that it’s chest wasn’t moving, it wasn’t breathing. It’s black fur was dull and dirty and it’s nose all dried up looking.
 

             
“You all have kids?”  I heard Mr. Stubblefield ask of Sam. 

             
Sam just nodded. “Yes, sir two, boy and a girl.”

             
“Ain’t gonna be easy raisin’ them alone.”

             
Sam just nodded.

              “Mr. Stubblefield,” I interrupted, in a way hoping to rescue Sam from this obviously painful talk. “What happened to this little calf?”

             
“Well now, that’s real strange.”

             
He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. I was beginning to wonder if his truck ever made it over 30mph, but as slow as he spoke, it would be just natural for him to drive slowly as well.