Joel slept with his head on Barry’s shoulder. Barry and Cassandra rode in silence. Coleman, Oklahoma, showed no signs of life. They spent a few hours searching through houses, but every home was the same. Kinefic was after Coleman. They had to exit the highway to get to Kinefic. It was just a tiny little community. It was the kind of town that didn’t appear on Google Maps until you zoomed in. Cass and Barry did the searching there. They let the others stay back and watch the vehicles. It was nothing but more bloating bodies. It was dark when they got back on the road, and their moods were soured.
Barry made sure that Joel was still sleeping before he broke the silence.
“How will he make it if he can’t hear our directions or listen for danger?” Barry whispered.
“It won’t be easy,” Cass answered at a normal volume. “You haven’t been around many deaf people, have you?”
“No. Why?” Barry asked.
“Because you don’t have to whisper.”
“I know, but I do it without thinking.”
“You will get used to it.”
“But why should I have to? Why can’t Jamal fix his ears…like he fixed all my shit?” Barry asked.
“Pen’Kai aren’t supposed to do what Jamal did. I mean…they can, but they have to answer for it. I had to argue to get him to augment you. If Dillon hadn’t shown up and nearly killed us all…I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Oh.” Barry seemed hurt.
“I would have asked, just not to Jamal. I would have waited for us to reach the mountains and asked the Kai’den to do it. Augmenting is a taboo thing for Pen’Kai to do. The Pen’Kai used to be able to augment at will. I don’t know why it changed. Jamal doesn’t talk about it, but there has to be a very good reason for a Pen’Kai to perform an unsanctioned augmentation now,” she explained.
“Is Jamal going to get into trouble?” Barry was concerned. “Will the Kai’den take it away?”
“I doubt they punish Jamal for augmenting you. The world is a graveyard, and we ran into two powerful drol’ka in the same town.” She paused for a moment. “Barry, there is no guarantee that you will keep your augments.”
Well, shit. It was fun while it lasted.
Cass sensed Barry’s concern. “I think you’ll be fine. You are a good man. Use the augments you have to protect survivors, and the Kai’den may grant you additional augments. God knows we need all the help we can get, now.”
Dang! More augments? I can’t even imagine. I could become an actual superhero.
Barry chuckled.
“What?” Cass asked.
“Nothing. Just a thought I had.”
“Come on, Barry…something tickled your funny bone.”
Good God…she’s gonna think I’m a child.
“I’m still waiting.”
“It’s just...I can’t. It’s silly.”
“Sir! Out with it!” A smile followed her words.
“Alright. I don’t know about girls, but every little boy dreams of being a superhero. Superman, Wolverine, Silver Surfer, The Incredible Hulk…it doesn’t matter. We just want to be strong and save the day.”
“That’s sweet.” Her smile grew.
“Yeah, but we grow out of it, and some of us settle for a firefighter, a cop, or the military. That is about the closest we’ll ever get to being a superhero…or any kind of hero.”
“Well, that’s not so sweet.” Cassandra’s smile melted into a frown, and her eyebrows scrunched.
“That’s why I chuckled. I shed those delusions ages ago. I knew I was never going to be super at anything. I decided I could still be a hero, but the mundane kind. All I ever wanted was to help people. I didn’t know how…just help them however I could.” Barry turned and looked out his window. It was pitch black out, and all he saw was the reflection of the truck's illuminated instrument panel. “The army told me my eyes were bad. I tried becoming a doctor, but I couldn’t afford the cost of school. Eventually, my dreams were replaced with bills, and I guess that desire was smothered by the rat race.”
Barry caught the reflection of Cass looking at him. He sniffed and turned back toward her.
Great, now she is going to pity me. Fix it dipshit!
“Then, I got my wife and daughter…and I was finally a hero. Their hero. I felt like a failure every day. I beat myself to pieces because I didn’t earn enough…or do enough. It didn’t matter. My wife never stopped looking at me like I was the greatest man that ever lived. And my daughter…” Barry’s lip quivered, and his chin began to tremble. He snapped his head back toward the window.
Fuck, man…that is the exact opposite of fixing it. Pull yourself together! You’re making this awkward now.
“Barry,” Cass reached over Joel and put her hand on Barry’s arm, “I will never force you to talk about anything, but holding it all in just lets the pressure build. You may not believe me, but you gotta let it out. Right now, you can't even speak about them because it hurts. But, Barry…imagine a day where you aren’t afraid to talk about them. How wonderful will it be to share all those beautiful moments and relive the joyous memories ya’ll made? Tell me about them.”
I can’t. It hurts. You don’t understand. You don’t know what you’re asking of me.
“Sugar, do you know where I was when Jamal found me?”
Barry kept his head resting on the cool window glass and shrugged.
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“I was nursing two sick babies and hadn’t slept in days…I was so terrified. Their daddy took work on a cattle drive and was gone when they got sick. I was alone and afraid to close my eyes. I knew I was gonna wake up to find them gone. Deep down, I knew they weren’t gonna make it, but a momma never stops hoping for her babies. It had been two weeks since they started coughing…and three days since either one of them had enough strength to sit up in bed.
I was down on my knees, praying, when I heard the horses come trotting up. I knew it wasn’t time for their daddy to be back. But, I still jumped up and ran to the door hoping. It was my neighbor, Matthew. I knew by the look on his face that something bad had happened. My Daniel was a full-blooded Choctaw, and he fought for the confederacy. Even though the great war was years over, there were lots of former Yankee soldiers who came to the Oklahoma Territory to claim their piece of the frontier. It didn’t take much for a white man to find a reason to hate an Indian, but it took even less for a white Yankee soldier to hate an Oklahoma Indian.
Matthew said they had a group of northern boomers ride up to their camp and ask if they could trade some of their whiskey and tobacco for a little time around the warm fire. He said the moment they noticed Daniel, they started in on him. Calling him an injun and making fun of the feather he kept braided in his hair. They went on and on about how he smelled and how he didn’t belong in their Oklahoma…when Matthew stood up for Daniel, and told them to take their drinks and tobacco and get on their way, they pulled their guns and suggested that Matthew might not wanna be taking up for a injun. One of those yanks made it clear that they could tolerate the company of a grey coat, as long as he was a white man. But Daniel wasn’t a man at all. He was a dirty, traitorous dog, and he had to be put down.
Those Yankees took all their weapons, at gun point, shood their horses into the night, and hopped on their own horses as if they were going to leave. Matthew said he though that was the end of it. He said they assumed their angst had run it’s course and they would be on their way.
As they turned to leave, one of them threw his lasso around my Daniel’s neck, and they took off into the night, dragging my husband by the neck. They just rode off, whooping and hollering. They didn’t even have a body to bring back to me.
I was scared and angry. In my grief, I blamed Matthew for not doing anything. I slapped, punched, and kicked at that man for as long as he let me. And he did let me. He stood there, tears in his eyes, as I cursed his name and assaulted his body. He never said a word. He just took it, until I heard my Dannielle call my name. I ran back inside and wrapped my arms around my little girl and sobbed myself to sleep.
My mind and body were exhausted, and I didn’t wake up until the following morning. When did, I was chilled to my bones. The fire had burned out, and it was cold enough that I could see my breath in the frigid air. I was shivering, and my hands were shaking. It took me nearly an hour to get the fire burning again. My only focus was to warm up the house as fast I could to keep my babies warm. I got it going, but it hadn’t had time to warm up. I hurried back to the bed, my breath still steaming, and that’s when I noticed theirs wasn’t. They had no breath to steam.”
Cass looked at Barry, but his face was turned against the window. She could see his chest heaving and his face reflected off the glass. Tears glistened as they ran down his face and soaked into his beard.
“There I was, Barry, not even twenty years old. Both my children were taken by the white man’s sickness, my husband was taken by the white man’s hatred, living on the land that the white man gave us…after they took it from us…after they gave it to us. I was angry at God. I was angry at the Na Hollo…the white men, and I was scared. I was the quarter Choctaw widower of a Choctaw man who had just lost her entire family. I knew I would not get any help from my neighbors. I didn’t belong to the Choctaw people. My mother was the child of Choctaw women who was raped by a white man. I was the product of a white man raping my mother. She died giving birth to me, and I grew up in one of their Catholic schools for Native children.
I was crushed. I felt hopeless. My heart was broken, and despair was all I knew. I crawled into that bed, pulled the lifeless bodies of my children onto my chest, and I did not leave that bed for days. That’s where I was when Jamal found me. I was catatonic. He knocked, but I did not hear it. I can’t even tell you what happened when he finally came inside. I remember him putting his hand on my face, and it startled me. I remember being more startled when I noticed this towering hattak lusa…a black man, next to my bed, with his hand brushing the hair out of my face. The next thing I noticed was the horrendous stench of my decomposing babies, and flies were swarming all around us. Then…nothing. Jamal put me to sleep. He gathered my children and washed them. He put clean clothes on them and brushed their hair. He bathed me and dressed me and healed my malnourished body. When he brought me back to consciousness, he walked me outside and took me out to the only tree on our property. He had two graves dug, and my beautiful babies were waiting there.
I stood there and didn’t say a word as he lowered them into the ground. Jamal said words, probably something profound and beautiful, but I wasn’t paying attention. Then, he shoveled the dirt over their bodies, and he left me there and went back to my house. At some point, he came back out and walked me back to the house. I don’t remember much about those following days, but I remember returning to the house, and the smell was gone. The flies were, too. He had the fire going and beans cooking. The rest…nothing. I was a broken, fractured husk of a person.
Eventually, Jamal loaded me up on his wagon, and we traveled. It took months for me to come around. I didn’t speak a word. Gradually, Jamal’s patience and wise words began to chip away at the calcification that encrusted my soul. But, even though I slowly became a functioning human again, I wouldn’t allow myself to speak about them. Any time one of them wiggled into my thoughts, I pushed them away. It hurt. My God, did it hurt. So, Barry, trust me when I tell you this…I know…I know.”
Barry turned away from the window and looked Cass in the eyes. Where his eyes were wet with pain and anguish, her eyes glowed with joy.
How? How, Cass? How can you relive that and be okay? Fucking, HOW?
“Get it over with. Let it hurt. Let their memories assault you. Let yourself feel all the guilt and the blame. Feel the despair and suffering you believe you deserve. Stop being a coward and get it over with, because if you don’t, you’ll never be able to feel the joy again. Until you do, you’ll never get to spend time with them again…in the only way that’s left: their memories. Hurt, cry, and let yourself die…a little bit, so you can let them live again.”
I can’t, Cass. I can’t. I can’t breathe. Why are you doing this? WHY!
“WHY! WHY…why do you want me to feel this…this pain?”
“Because, until you do, you won't be able to watch them chasing grasshoppers through the golden grasses that are taller than they are. You won’t be able to hear them giggle as they dip their toes in the cold creek. You will never see the amber glow of the fire dancing across his face as he holds you under the stars. The memories are all you have, and each one is worth more than all the gold in the world, even the bad ones. The screams of pain that send you sprinting outside because your baby is in distress. Even the times you watched them saddle up and disappear across the plains. When they hurt your feelings…priceless. When you sat next to the bed and watched them fade away. When you beat on your husband’s best friend and cursed his name…invaluable. All we have are the memories, Barry.
When we die, the memories are the only gift we leave behind. They’re the only thing that matters. They left you with their memories, Barry. Don’t let the fear of a little pain keep you from accepting that gift.”
Barry pulled his shirt up and wiped his face. He sniffed a few times and took a deep breath. He released it, slowly, before turning to face Cass. His eyes were red, and his chin still quivered. He started to speak a few times, but each time, his lips began to shake, and he couldn’t calm his breathing. After a few tries, he gave up and just nodded at Cass.
“I never said it was going to be easy. Take your time. There is no timer on healing your soul,” she offered. “I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk.”
Barry nodded again. He knew Cass was right. He missed them. He missed the memories. He didn’t know how to overcome the despair and the anguish. Hearing her words helped him to realize that it would take work. It was never going to get easier.
Oh, man…
“She wasn’t mine…my daughter. Well, she was all mine, but I didn’t make her. She and her momma were a package deal. She wasn’t even seven months old when I met her momma. I was driving down the road, and—”
Cass couldn’t help but smile as she listened to Barry tell her about his wife and daughter. It was beautiful to hear how he talked about them. There was no doubt how profound his love for them was. She continued driving, and he continued talking.
Cass didn’t tell him that the pain was still there. It never fades away. The memories are a blessing, but the craving to have them back lingers. It comes and goes like the wind. The memories can be a refreshing breeze or a frigid gust that kicks up out of nowhere and drives the heat from your soul. She figured some truths are better left for another day.
For now, she let Barry tell his stories and enjoy the memories.