CHAPTER
fourteen

Si and Dolly were sitting in their porch swing, enjoying a Sunday afternoon breeze, when a black Ford pickup came slowly around the loop and pulled into their driveway. As the truck door opened and a tall young man with a walking cane stepped out, they went to greet him.

“Last time I saw you, son, you were a couple o’ feet shorter,” Si said as he shook Reed’s free hand. “And you didn’t have all them muscles. It’s mighty good to see you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chandler.”

“None o’ that. You’re all grown up. We’re just plain ol’ Si and Dolly.”

Dolly took Reed’s hand and held it between hers. “You prob’ly don’t remember me, but I remember you,” she said. “I always thought you had the prettiest eyes I’d ’bout ever seen on a child—and you still do.”

“They’ve seen a lot.” Reed looked down, as if he needed to protect Dolly from his wartime visions.

“We know, honey. And if you decide you want to talk about any of it, we’re right here. But if you don’t, ain’t nobody in this house gonna push you.”

“I ’preciate that.”

“You go on in with Dolly, and I’ll grab your suitcase,” Si said.

“I can carry it,” Reed said.

“I know you can, but I’m hopin’ you’ll let an ol’ fella show off for his best girl.”

Reed smiled. “Okay. Go on and show off for Miss Dolly.”

He took a duffle bag from the truck seat and let Si carry his larger suitcase. Dolly led him to his room, with Si following close behind.

“I’ll let Dolly get you settled,” Si said as he set the suitcase at the foot of Reed’s bed. “Whenever you like, you and me can dip a line or light a pipe and have us a good visit.”

“I’d enjoy that. And thank you.”

Si patted the young vet on the back. “We’re the ones oughta be thankin’ you. Get yourself comfortable and we’ll talk later on.”

Dolly sat down on the edge of the bed next to Reed, who was surveying his room. “I figured I’d be upstairs with your other boarders,” he said.

“You’re not just another boarder. You’re like family to us. I thought you might be more comfortable here, where you’ve got your own door in and outta the house right there.” She pointed to the new door. “There’s a little porch if you want some fresh air and outside space to yourself. But I think once you get to know ever’body here, you’ll feel right at home with ’em. And if you decide you’d be happier upstairs, there’s still an empty room up there.”

Reed took another look around and gestured to the new door. “Y’all put that in just for me?”

Dolly nodded. “We figured there’d be times when you wanted comp’ny and times when you didn’t.”

He gazed at her for a moment and then squinted slightly. “You used to cut me two or three pieces o’ your chocolate cake even though I only ate the icin’. You let me scrape off all the chocolate I wanted, without eatin’ a bite o’ the cake.”

Dolly clapped her hands together and laughed. “I can’t believe you remember my chocolate cake!”

“Why’d you do that—let me scrape off the icin’, I mean?”

“Because you dearly loved it, and I didn’t see any reason to make a sweet child like you eat somethin’ you didn’t want just to get somethin’ you did want.”

“What’d you do with the cake—once I had scraped it clean, I mean?”

Dolly leaned toward Reed like a conspirator passing state secrets. “Fed it to Si’s huntin’ dog. Ol’ Blue gained a few pounds every time you came over.”

Reed smiled and reached into his shirt pocket. “I need to pay you my rent.”

“You don’t owe us a thing. We’re tickled to have you.”

“I ’preciate that, but I can’t stay if you won’t let me pay my way.”

“Well, alright then.” She took his rent money and stood up to go. “I reckon I need to get out o’ your way and let you unpack.”

“Don’t go—I mean, don’t feel like you have to go.”

Dolly sat back down with him. “If you remember my chocolate cake, what else do you remember about this ol’ place?”

The room was quiet while he thought about it. “I remember a creek and a pretty pond—way back in the woods?”

Dolly smiled. “That’s right. The Tanyard Creek is right behind the lake—that’s how we filled it up, by pumpin’ creek water into a big hole Si dug. And the pond you’re thinkin’ about is the slough offa the Tanyard. Si and your daddy used to carry you fishin’ there all summer long.”

Reed thought again for a minute. “Still got my sword?”

Dolly reached under the bed and pulled out a small toy sword made from a piece of broom handle painted silver, with a homemade hilt. “Aye, Cap’n Chauvin,” she said.

“I can’t believe this.” Reed shook his head as he took the sword and held it like a precious artifact that might disintegrate before his eyes. “Hard to believe my hands were ever small enough to do battle with a sword this size.”

“I never saw a young’un take to that ol’ pirate story the way you did,” Dolly said. “You spent many a rainy day up in my attic, capturin’ enemy ships and pilin’ up loot.”

“Didn’t you rig me up a treasure chest?”

“Oh, I’d forgot about that! We took the little trunk I had when I was a child and stuffed most of it with a blanket. Then we piled some ol’ costume jewelry and silver-plate dishes on top of it. You’d always bring me a present from your treasure chest when your ship docked in the attic.”

Reed smiled. “Sorry you had to act excited when I gave you back your own stuff—and I’m sorry I never found the real treasure.”

“That’s okay, honey. You just keep lookin’. No better way to pass a rainy day than lookin’ for lost treasure.”

Reed studied Dolly’s face like a road map back to his childhood. “You doctored my knee when I fell offa my bike in front o’ your house.”

“Oh, that was a bad, bad tumble you took.” Dolly shook her head at the memory of all that blood on a child’s leg. “I was worried your mama might have to carry you on to the doctor, but you healed up.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yes, son, it was. But you can still mend. You’ve just got some deeper cuts this time, and they’re gonna take a while.”

“What if they never get better?”

“I won’t believe that. I’ve got faith in the Lord, and I’ve got faith in you.”

“I’m doin’ my best. But I don’t seem to be gettin’ anywhere. You promise you’ll let me know if I get to be a burden so I won’t ruin everything here?”

“You’re not gonna ruin a thing. Just give ’em a chance, Reed. They’re all real good people. And I know you’ve been keepin’ to yourself quite a bit since you got back, but that’s not good for you, honey—not all the time anyhow. I think I maybe understand why you couldn’t go home. If I was your mama, I might want so badly to get back the boy they took from me that I’d put all kinda pressure on you to get well—without even meanin’ to. I know you can’t be that boy I used to know, but you can be a good man—and a happy one.”

Reed stared at the floor. “Hope so.”

“Would you like to have supper with the rest of us tonight? Most nights I cook and we eat at the table, and then whoever’s here for lunch gets a sandwich. But on Sundays I flip that around because I think ever’body ought to have a nice family dinner after church, so we break out the sandwich bread on Sunday nights.”

“I think I might need to just get my bearin’s tonight, if that’s okay?”

“’Course it is. I’ll bring you somethin’ at six unless you’re hungry now?”

“No, ma’am—six’ll be just fine. And thank you. I’ll get myself to the table in the mornin’.”

“We eat breakfast at six too, but now, if you change your mind and don’t show up, I’ll fix you a plate. Nobody’s gonna hurry you, honey.”

“Thank you—for everything. And if you’d do me one more favor—could you ask Si to keep his gun cabinet locked? Sometimes those flashbacks . . . well, they’re awful real, and I just don’t wanna take a chance . . .”

Dolly nodded as she reached over and wrapped her hands around his. “Are you too grown to hug?”

“No, ma’am.”

They put their arms around each other and held on, just as they had so many times when he was a child, shyly peeking into her kitchen in search of chocolate cake.

Reed stepped off the porch Si had built for him and looked around. It was all coming back—the way his footsteps echoed on the wood floors of the old house with its towering ceilings, the sound of a breeze stirring the pecan trees, the sense of security he had always felt on this old loop. He was twelve when they moved away, and he had never felt at home anywhere but here. Even when he was overseas, he longed for his family and an escape from the horrors engulfing him, but not for the farm his mother had inherited, a place where he had always felt like an alien.

Slowly making his way out of the yard and around the loop, he spotted a small, neatly kept cottage. The old woman sitting on the front porch beckoned to him. His bad leg was especially bothersome today, stiff and sore from the long ride.

“Hello!” the woman called.

“Hello,” Reed answered, trying to remember her. He could tell from the clouds covering her eyes that she couldn’t see him. “I know you.” He said it out loud, though he didn’t mean to.

“Yes, I expect you do. Join me while you consider it.”

Steps were especially hard for him when his leg locked up, but he managed to climb them and sit down next to her. Gradually the fog shrouding his happiest memories began to clear, and he could see his childhood self standing on this very porch.

“You’re Miss Lillian!”

“Yes!” She laughed, still staring straight ahead.

“You used to make me tea cakes.”

“Then you must be young Reed.”

“How did you know?”

“Of all the children on this loop, you loved my tea cakes best of all. I made a big batch every week just for you.”

“But why? Why’d you do that for me?”

“Can you not remember yourself?”

“Ma’am?”

“Have all your memories of that long-ago boy faded away?”

Reed felt like he had just taken shrapnel to the gut, and he was silent for a moment before he finally answered. “Yes, ma’am. I have a hard time rememberin’ him at all.”

“Well, we must help you get him back.”

“You really think you can do that?”

“I know it to be so. You are wounded. I can hear it in your gait and in your voice. You need not explain the how or the why unless you wish. But you must not give up on healing. There is healing to be had here, young Reed.”

“I wanna believe that.”

“Then do! And here is where to begin. Nothing soothes like flowing water. Go into the woods and follow the Tanyard to its shallows. Sit down on the cool earth and listen to the creek splash against the rocks. Go now. Then come back someday soon and tell me what became of it.”

“You want me to go to the creek right now?”

“Yes! No time like the present. Be on your way, and fare thee well.”

Reed was befuddled but, for reasons he couldn’t explain, felt compelled to do as she said.

“I’ll be back,” he said as he left the porch. “Is there anything you need?”

“No, young Reed. Just the pleasure of your company now and again.”

“Bye for now.”

Lillian waved. “Goodbye.”

Reed stood on the porch of the skating rink and looked out over the water. It was so clean and clear. He thought about the great lake he had crossed in Tunisia, a place that would’ve been beautiful if war hadn’t sullied it. Si’s lake and roller rink were closed on Sunday, but Reed could imagine what this place must have looked like just yesterday, with all the swimmers and skaters swarming it. He walked to the far end of the porch, stepped onto the trail, and followed it to a creek he had loved as a child but barely remembered now.

This place was paradise. Deep woods and clear, flowing water, a mossy carpet along the water’s edge, and birdsong—constant birdsong. That was something he hadn’t heard in the desert. But he refused to let his mind go to those dark places right now.

Limping alongside the creek, he made his way to the shallows and spotted a girl leaning against a tree and holding a book in her lap. In the Army he had learned to move silently, but his limp had robbed him of stealth, and the girl looked up when his bad leg snapped a few twigs underfoot. He could see he had startled her. He seemed to startle a lot of people since he’d gotten back.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he said, giving her a smile and a wave so she wouldn’t be scared.

“You must be Reed.”

“How’d you know?”

“Not many guys your age left around here, so I figure you must be Dolly’s vet.”

“How’d you know I was comin’?”

“Me and Anna—she lives with Dolly and Si—we got your room ready. You like it?”

“I do.”

“You wanna sit?”

“I’ll try—pretty stiff today.” Reed limped over to a tree next to the girl and began a familiar process—figuring out how to manage simple movements that he once did effortlessly, automatically even.

She seemed to guess his dilemma. “Hey, you know what you could do? Hook your cane over that real low limb right there and hold on to it. That way you won’t have to try and bend your bad leg while you lower yourself down. And then you can use it to pull up. I’ll help if you need me to.”

Reed followed her advice and managed to get comfortable against the tree, facing the girl and stretching out his long legs.

“You handled that real good,” she said.

Reed looked at her. She was beautiful. Creamy skin, smoky green eyes, a dimpled smile, and not a drop of makeup—she didn’t need any. Her caramel hair was cut short, which suited her. And on a Sunday, when most girls would have on a dress, she was wearing overalls.

“You know who I am, but I don’t know you,” he said.

“I’m Daisy. I board on around the loop with Ella Brown, but me and Anna are friends, so I spend a lotta time at the Chandlers’.”

“Nice to meet you, Daisy.”

“Same here.”

“What you got there?” He pointed to the book, which she turned around so he could see—a drawing of a young woman with flowing blonde hair, wearing a long dress and sitting on a mossy rock in the middle of the creek.

Reed was impressed. “That’s really good. Who is it?”

Daisy shrugged. “Just guessin’ at what a girl who lived here a long time ago mighta looked like.”

“Can I see it up close?” he asked. Daisy handed him her sketchbook. He studied the portrait and then said, “Catherine?”

“You know about Catherine and Andre?”

“Even got my own pirate sword,” he said as he handed back the sketchbook. “Dolly made it for me out of a broom handle when I was little. And it was under my bed when I got here.”

“That is just like her to keep a broom-handle pirate sword all these years.”

“You draw for a livin’?”

“No, I just enjoy it. And it kinda settles my mind. You got anything to settle your mind?”

“I’ve been considerin’ hard liquor.”

Daisy grinned. “That won’t get you nothin’ but a headache.” She was looking at him, not the eye-batting way girls did when they used to flirt with him, but like an object—like that mossy rock in the creek. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, “but you’ve got the strangest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Daisy was throwing him completely off balance. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”

She actually laughed out loud. Reed couldn’t remember the last time he had made a girl laugh.

“Maybe that didn’t come out right,” she said. “I mean they’re strange in a good way. They’re kinda blue and kinda silver all at the same time. I’m not sure I can match that color, but I’d like to try. You mind if I draw ’em while we talk?”

Reed frowned and blinked at her. “You wanna draw my eyes?”

“Yeah. If it makes you feel weird, just tell me and I’ll stop.” Daisy settled back against the tree and stared at his eyes. She appeared to be taking dimensions.

“What should I do while you . . . do that?” he asked, trying to keep his eyes open.

Daisy was laughing again. “You can blink, silly! You don’t have to be super still or anything. I’m just tryin’ to figure out that color.”

Reed relaxed against the tree and looked at Daisy. “So what brought you here?”

She kept looking back and forth from his eyes to her sketchbook. “The war. My husband, Charlie, enlisted, so I moved here from Mississippi and got a job at the plant.” Just as he felt a dip in his spirits to learn that she was married, Daisy paused for a moment and then asked, “You know any tail gunners over there?”

Now it was Reed who was searching her eyes. They didn’t have that hopeful look women always gave him when they asked if he had seen their husbands overseas. “Why? You lose one?”

Daisy nodded. “What you reckon that was like—for Charlie, I mean?”

Reed picked up a smooth twig from the ground and studied it as he absently twirled it through his fingers, carefully considering what he should tell her. He had seen the shattered remains of fallen tail gunners. The ones who didn’t go down with their planes were usually unrecognizable when they were pulled out of there. Finally, he looked up and gave Daisy his answer. “Quick. It woulda been real quick.”

Daisy seemed relieved and returned to her drawing. “Sometimes I see Charlie. It’s like he just appears in the strangest places, lookin’ as real as you do, but only for a few seconds.”

“What’s he doin’ when he appears to you?”

Daisy studied Reed’s eyes again and made a few strokes with her pencil before looking up at him. “Nothin’ much. Last time, he was at the curb market, just walkin’ through the tomato bins with his hands in his pockets. But then he disappeared into the squash.”

“Does he ever say anything?”

“No. And he never looks at me either. You think I’m crazy?”

“Oh yeah.” Again he made her laugh. Oddly, Daisy’s laugh brought him more satisfaction than anything since he’d gotten home. “You’re not crazy. You just miss him.”

Daisy shook her head as if she were trying to shake off the ghostly appearances of her dead husband. “Why don’t you tell me your story? It’ll take your mind offa bein’ stared at.”

“You want me to tell you about the war?”

“Is that your whole story?” Now she wasn’t looking at him like an artist scrutinizing an object, but like someone who would see straight through any smoke screen he threw out.

“Feels like it sometimes. Everybody here—they remember me as this little kid. If they knew what I had to do over there, I doubt they’d want me under the same roof with ’em.”

“Dolly said you were a medic.”

“That’s right.”

“Medics save soldiers’ lives—what’s wrong with that?”

“When you’re a medic, well . . . sometimes I had to kill theirs to keep ’em offa me long enough to save ours, and that kinda killin’ don’t usually happen at a distance.”

Daisy leaned forward to get a closer look at his eyes. She made a few strokes with three different pencils and then looked up. “There’s a real important word in what you just said. And it’s had. Sometimes you had to. And if you hadn’a done what you had to do, you’d be layin’ in the ground like Charlie. So would a lotta other soldiers.”

“You believe in bein’ direct, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry. Was that rude?” Daisy seemed worried.

“No, it’s great. Everybody around me’s been walkin’ on eggshells since I got back. I don’t know how to put ’em at ease because I’m not at ease myself.”

“I follow that,” Daisy said, picking up a piece of charcoal and returning to her drawing. “Women usually end up talkin’ about their husbands and kids when they get together, and I ain’t got either one. They get all jittery when they’re complainin’ about their men and remember mine’s gone.”

“You plannin’ to stick around here?”

Daisy sighed and looked up. “I don’t know. I think I’m waitin’ on somethin’ to happen, but I got no idea what it is.”

“I follow that.” Reed grinned as he mimicked her response.

Daisy rolled her eyes. “Now you’re makin’ fun o’ me.”

“No, I’m not—I promise I’m not. I just know exactly what you’re talkin’ about.”

“How ’bout you? Think you’ll stay a while?”

“Long as I don’t make any trouble for Si and Dolly. Truth is, I haven’t been where I wanted to be since I was a kid. Kinda nice to take a minute to breathe and maybe figure out what to do next.”

Daisy made a few final strokes with a piece of charcoal and studied her sketchpad. “Just so you know, I went over to the lib’ry in Childersburg and read up on battle fatigue. Some o’ those soldiers end up killin’ themselves. Or killin’ their own family members ’cause they think their brothers and sisters are Germans or Japanese.” She looked up at Reed. “But you’re not gonna do that.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I can see it.” She turned the portrait around and held it up.

Daisy had drawn his face and dark hair in charcoal but his eyes in vivid color. It was like looking into a mirror and staring at a stranger all at the same time. The man in the drawing looked so . . . kind. Reed didn’t feel kind after everything he had been forced to see and do. It was like the war had dislocated him from himself. The Alabama boy who’d left and the combat medic who’d returned couldn’t seem to figure out how to live peaceably in the same body—or the same mind. He was a real Humpty Dumpty: all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put him back together again.

Daisy closed the sketchpad and relaxed against her tree. “Can you tell me about your leg? Not how you got hurt—I reckon you don’t wanna think about that—but what the doctors say?”

Reed rubbed his knee and tried to bend it. “This is pretty much it. They don’t think I’ll ever walk any better than I do now.”

“You gonna go with that?”

“They’re the doctors, so I reckon they know. They gave me these exercises that might loosen it up, but I can’t do ’em without help, and I can’t afford to pay a nurse, so I guess that’s that.”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“I’ll help you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask me. I just told you I would.”

“That’s mighty kind o’ you, but I can’t let you—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Daisy interrupted him. “Men are the most aggravatin’ creatures on earth. I used to keep a house and help run a farm, but now all I do is draw. And help Dolly whenever she needs me. I got a lotta time on my hands, which I don’t much care for. There’s such a thing as too much time to think.”

Reed considered her offer. Why would a pretty girl like Daisy want to spend her time with a worn-out soldier who walked like a grandpa? But she seemed completely sincere. “You promise you’ll tell me if you get tired of it?”

“Sure.”

“Will you let me pay you?”

“Of course not. We’ll start tomorrow mornin’ after breakfast. And we’ll have to do your exercises on your porch. Dolly doesn’t allow what she calls ‘single unmarrieds’ in any of her bedrooms.”

Reed smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Hey, you better get goin’. It’s gotta be close to six, and you know what that means over at Dolly’s.”

Reed reached up and started to pull himself up by the cane hanging overhead but lost his grip and slipped back down. He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes in disgust.

“Wait a minute,” Daisy said. She came over and got on her knees beside him. “Use my shoulder as a prop on this side and pull up with your cane on the other.”

“What if I hurt you?”

“Then I’ll holler and you’ll stop if you don’t want me to smack you.”

Reed had to smile, as foolish as he felt for being unable to do something as simple as stand up. Holding on to Daisy’s shoulder gave him just enough leverage to grip the cane and hoist himself off the ground.

“See?” Daisy said, standing up and dusting off her knees. “Problem solved.”

“Thanks. You headin’ home too?”

“Guess so. Lemme grab my sketchbook and I’ll walk with you.”

As the two of them slowly made their way out of the woods, Daisy offered Reed some advice. “By the way, you might wanna steer clear o’ the slough on Saturday afternoons.”

“How come?”

“Because Saturday’s about the only time Anna and her husband, Jesse, have to be alone. The slough’s their love nest.”

“Roger that.”

Daisy grinned up at him. “It’s bad enough you got a bum leg. Wouldn’t want you to see somethin’ that might make you go blind.”