When Nathan exited the large stained glass and mahogany doors of the funeral home, and into a field of grey fog that made the outside world feel strangely similar to his clouded and blank heart, he noticed that Bill was the only one left in the parking lot.
As he approached the truck he couldn’t help but wonder what drove a man like Bill to do the things he had done for a hurt and bitter man like him. Sure, he knew his wife but that didn’t seem like enough to step up the way he had. He had nothing to gain, no angle to work. He was just there, being a friend to an unfriendly man in his moment of hopelessness.
He came closer to the aged truck and saw Bill through the slightly tinted tempered windows looking through a stack of papers. Church business no doubt, he supposed.
He didn’t think that he needed to clarify why Bill was still in the parking lot, but rather he opened the passenger side door with a silence piercing squeak that was quickly muted by the thickening fog, and climbed in the truck. He wanted to thank Bill but his pride stifled his gratitude and he diverted, “Kathleen’s parents are going to keep the kids for a few days, until this is all over. I think they need to be around people that are a little more stable right now.”
Bill turned the key in the ignition and the ford roared to life, then relaxed into a soft hum, “That’s probably good.” He replied nodding in agreement. “You want to go home?”
“No not really.” Nathan answered, his gaze irresolutely searching the blankness of the darkening night. “I can’t go back there right now. Maybe I’ll just get a motel room for the night.” he breathed.
“You want to get a beer?”
“Um, Sure.” Nathan said in surprise. “Are you aloud to drink?”
Bill laughed, “of course. Just cause I’m a pastor doesn’t mean I can’t have a beer. The word says that I just don’t drink to excess.”
“Good, I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble on my behalf.”
They drove into the sea of fog thick enough to transform the street lamps into small, orange orbs suspended in the darkness; the lights from street level businesses barely recognizable under the cloak of the nighttime haze. The explorer sailed on through the vacant street like a pirate ship on the open sea searching for a port. They were the only ones out it seemed, save for a few rogue vessels in the distance, at the opposite ends of the intersecting streets.
Bill wanted to unload some of his biblical knowledge onto Nathan but thought better of it. Instead he began, “Kathleen sure had a lot of friends. It was good to see so many people come to pay their respects.”
“Ya, I guess so.” Nathan mumbled, not turning his head, but continuing to stare blankly into the fog drenched town. His mind and body had reached its maximum capacity of hurt and fatigue. He felt numb, he had nothing left, he was empty inside.
“I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about the kind of life you lived by how badly people are affected when you leave this world.”
They pulled to the side of the street in front of a windswept, cinder block building with a neon sign that read, “The Home Team, sports bar and grill”. They walked in and found a seat at the bar.
Bill looked down the bar at the bartender, “Hey Mickey.”
Mickey was a legend in the town. Standing nearly seven feet tall and weighing more than three hundred pounds, he was a giant. He played baseball and football in high school then went off to college to play football in Florida where he set records for sacks and interceptions. But that wasn’t his claim to fame in this little corner of Pennsylvania.
The mountains around the small town are thick with trees and can be hard to climb, so they are mostly undisturbed leaving the wildlife to flourish. About eight years ago on Halloween night the town’s children scurried from house to house gathering snacks and treats, dressed as goblins and princesses and hobos.
As the night went on, a young brown bear, that had unknowingly woke from his hibernation a few months too early, made his way into the town. In his confusion and terror he trapped two young boys in the alley behind the bar when Mickey was taking out a bag of trash.
Without hesitation Mickey jumped between the boys and the bear and motioned for them to get into the bar. The boys ran and the bear chased. Mickey hit the bear hard in the side with his shoulder and the bear feel against the dumpster, very upset about losing his snack.
The bear roared and stood on his rear feet. The boys watched through the filthy window in the back door. Mickey danced around trying to avoid a direct hit from the beast but couldn’t dodge them all. The bear charged repeatedly as Mickey jumped out of the way of the bears gnashing teeth and iron like claws.
After about fifteen minutes the bear and the bar keep had both had enough and the bear left for the mountains again and Mickey went back in the bar. The bear had been defeated but not without leaving his mark on Mickey. A large scar now runs across his face and across his left shoulder, and his left ear had nearly been ripped completely off. But the beast’s claws couldn’t puncture Mickey’s cheerful disposition.
“Oh, hey Pastor Bill, how you doing this fine evening?”
“We’re here.” He said with an implied message attached that if we’re in a bar; it’s been a long day.
“What can I get for ya?” Mickey asked smearing fingerprints and bear bottle sweat into the counter in front of them.
“Two beers.”
“You got it,” He reached in the cooler and took out two frosted beer mugs. He filled them both from the tap and shook off the head of foam. He placed them on coasters and slid a basket of pretzels over to them also. “I’ll put it on your tab Pastor,” he said with a wink and walked away.
“You come here much, Pastor.” Nathan asked with sarcasm as he took a sip of his beer.
“Not too much. Mickey married my sister right out of high school. He’s always treated me pretty good and takes real good care of his family.
From the darkness of the far side of the bar, a grungy looking man sitting at a table with two other men hollered, “Pastor, huh?’ The man laughed heartedly. “Hey Mickey, you’ll let anyone in here, won’t ya?”
The man was obviously drunk as were his friends so Bill and Mickey both ignored him. Nathan however wasn’t in the mood for this garbage, in fact tonight he wanted to make someone hurt as much as he did.
He turned on his stool and leaned his back with his elbows on the bar.
“Let it go Nathan.” Bill said half whispered and half as a warning.
“I don’t think so Bill, not tonight.” Nathan took a swallow of his beer. “Hey buddy; you got a problem with my friend having a beer?”
“We don’t want no bible thumpers comin in here.” The grungy man said getting up from his seat.
“Well it sounds to me like you don’t want any English teachers or soap salesman in here either, you illiterate, uneducated, dirty piece of white trash.”
It took a few seconds for the man to realize that he had just been insulted before he lunged at Nathan. The man had at least fifty pounds and about four inches on Nathan, but that didn’t seem to matter.
His light blue jeans and flannel shirt were soiled with what seemed to be motor oil or grease. His thick beard and matted grease black hair looked as if they hadn’t seen a shower for a few days at least. His breath heavy as diesel fuel scorched Nathan’s sinuses and triggered a flood of adrenaline through his body that was more than adequate to offset the man’s fifty pound advantage.
The men pushed and swung at each other, Nathan landing three punches to the other man’s one. It had only been going on about a minute when the other two men decided to help their intoxicated friend.
Bill jumped up and met them half way across the floor. “I don’t think so boys.” He said with a grin and waving his finger in their faces.
Without warning, one of the men reared back and swung at Bill but he missed, stumbling forward and right into Bill’s incoming fist. The punch landed just left of the man’s Adam apple but
the man dropped like a sack of potatoes clenching his throat. That’s when his friend joined in, Bill grabbed his shoulder and raised his knee into the man’s groin, dropping him, same as the first.
Bill noticed that Nathan was now on top of his opponent punching him relentlessly with his swollen and bloody hands. Bill grabbed Nathan and pulled him up. “That’s enough Nathan. “You feel better now?”
“No, not yet.” Nathan replied looking around at the other men and breathing heavy. “What happed here?”
“They fell down.” Bill said leading Nathan to the door. “We need to go.” He turned back for a moment, “Hey Mickey?”
“I know, I know…Don’t you worry, I’ll get this.”
The men left and stood on the corner for a few minutes catching their breath, when Nathan asked. ”Fighting? Really? Who are you?”
“Pastor Bill” he replied.
“So you fight too?”
“Hey, I tried to ignore him, you started the fight.”
“What about the guys on the floor?”
“They were headed toward you. I was just protecting you from an ambush.”
The door to the bar blasted open and the first man stepped out, his left eye nearly swollen shut and blood and saliva leaking from his mouth, glowered at Nathan through his good eye. He pulled a pistol from his belt and pointed it at Nathans chest. The blast echoed up and down the street. One single bullet landed center mass and passed through Nathan’s chest.
He felt the hot lead rip through his skin then the force made him stumble backward. He gasped for air but he felt as if had been crushed. The shock and disbelief blocked his reality but Bill dove onto Nathan and the two men crashed onto the damp concrete sidewalk.
Mickey, having to navigate the bar was only a few seconds behind the man. He tackled the man and his hand gun slid across the sidewalk and came to rest on the very edge of the concrete.
Instantly everything around Nathan began to fade. Soon Bill was gone, the man was gone, the bar…gone. Everything dissolved into white fog. The white grew brighter even to the point that closing his eyes couldn’t dim it.
He sat up and tried to look around, he shaded his eyes with his hand but the light was everywhere and he couldn’t block it. There was no sound, no hot or cold, nothing but this terrible light.
He tried to stand but he couldn’t feel the sidewalk, actually he didn’t even know if he was still sitting or lying or if he was already standing. He buried his face in his hands, then realized that he couldn’t feel or see his hands. Interest in this situation, not fear or panic overwhelmed him.
Where am I? What happened? What… is that sound? A distant, very faint sound of footsteps made him strain to listen. Slowly they became more distinct. It didn’t sound like shoes on concrete or pavement or any solid thing, and yet it wasn’t grass or water.
“Give it a moment.” He heard a soft voice say. The voice was friendly, but still startled him.
“He’s mine!” another voice screeched.
Nathan threw his hands up to fend off whatever was coming at him. He wasn’t afraid, just on his guard. He could sense where the voice was by the hate, and evil it emitted.
“He is not yours yet. Leave this place. You can retrieve him when it is your time.” The friendly voice said firmly.
“He’s mine!” the other voice shrieked again.
“LEAVE!” the first voice boomed like thunder from inside the storm cloud.
Then he heard a whooshing sound and the negative feelings vanished. The light eased or his eyes adjusted and he was able to begin seeing shapes and colors. Soon his vision cleared and he was able to see a large golden field in front of him. He turned and looked behind him, a forest, very dense but not dark or frightening.
He was standing on a worn path, at a cross roads. There was a path leading into the forest, one path leading into the golden field and two paths going left and right separating the forest from the field.
He looked around for who had been talking but saw no one. He was unsure what to do or which way to go. The forest looked cool and shaded, and it offered shelter and protection if that horrible voice came back.
The field was open and he knew he would be exposed to the sun and if the voice came back he wouldn’t be able to hide or defend himself.
Then he looked down the path between the forest and field. He could run into the forest if needed or stay in the open and look for someone to help him. Maybe he would find the farmer that worked the fields.
And so he began to walk down the path between the forest and the field. With each hill he came to, he anticipated seeing a farm house or a barn or anything, but he found nothing. As far as he could see it was forest on his left and a field on his right. Occasionally he would pass another crossroads leading into the forest and into the field, but he stayed his course determined to find something.
After what felt like hours his feet began to ache and his stomach moaned. He came to another crossroads saw a tree stump off the road a few feet. He knew he needed to keep going but he also need to take a breather. He sat in the thick green grass and leaned his back against the stump.
As he sat there in the warm sun light he couldn’t help but think how his lovely wife would have enjoyed this place; wherever this place was. He pictured her running with the children, laughing and dancing around like perfect fools.
As he smiled, once again he heard footsteps… and whistling. He sat up and saw a man, on older man, shuffling along with a cane pole in his right hand leaning on his shoulder and a small basket in his left.
He walked like he had all day to get where he was going and didn’t mind if he never made it either. He stopped at the cross road and put his load down. Then he removed his tattered straw hat and took a handkerchief from the back pocket of his dusty overalls and wiped his forehead and face.
Then he replaced the handkerchief and repositioned his hat back over his thinning white hair. He slowly bent down as men of a certain age will, and picked up his pole and basket. He never noticed Nathan setting there but just went about his merry way beginning to whistle a tune as he left.
Nathan hurried to his feet and called out, “SIR?”
The old man dropped his basket spilling fishing hooks and string, and spun around. “Oh fat hogs and heifers.” He looked at Nathan for a long moment then said, “ain’t you got no more sense than to spook an old man?”
“I am sorry sir; I didn’t mean to startle you.”
The man looked around then with one eye wide and the other squinted and sort of whispered, “Wanna go fishin?”
“Um, not right now, I need to get home.”
“Boy, you think’n…you're lost?”
“Yes sir.”
“Oh giddy chickens son. You ain’t lost. You’s right where you need to be.” He shook his head. “You young folk, always in a hurry to be somewhere more important than where you at.” The old man laughed. “You ain’t going nowhere no how. You’s just sittin by the side of the road and that ain’t getting you nowhere.”
“I guess you're right.”
“Well, that settles it.” The old man picked up his things and took a step, “You comin?”
“Yes sir.”
“Oh knock off with the sir nonsense. The name’s Everett.”
“Ok, Everett, I’m Nathan.”
“Glad to know ya Nathan. You fish much?”
“No, work and family keep me pretty busy.”
“To busy to fish? Blessed cross eyed catfish son, you get to busy to fish, you’s just too doggone busy.”
Nathan chuckled, “ya I guess so.”
“So whata you do?”
“I’m a guidance counselor at the high school.”
“Bet that fits you like shoes two sizes too small.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m good at it.”
“You say so.” Everett said and walked on.
“Now wait one min
ute old man, where do you get off saying something like that? You don’t know me.”
“Ok then, young fella, let’s see who you are.” Everett put down his pole and basket. “Tell me the three most important things in your life.”
“What?”
“C’mon now, the three most important things.”
“Ok, My Family, my career and…” Nathan though for a moment, “Uh.”
“Don’t bust a blood vessel, that’s all you got, ain’t it?”
Nathan stood there insulted and thoughtful. “I guess so.”
“And you’s supposed to help wild-eyed young’ns to find their way. You can’t even find yer way son. You got um walkin down the same path you’s on right now.”
“Oh really, and where are we?”
Everett gathered his things, “Shoot son, we’s on the road to nowhere. We can walk till the end of time and still be on the same path. We need to make a choice to go into the woods or into the field to get anywhere.
“Well then, which way do we go?”
“That’s up to you.”
“Don’t you know?”
Everett stopped and his face turned red, “That just pours sand in my shorts. Son, this is your journey, make your own choice. Stop ridding other folk’s coat tails.”
“What are you talking about?”
You ain’t getting to anywhere because Kathleen went there or cause you’s a swell guy. You wanna see her again you have to follow the path that leads there. There ain’t no shortcuts.”
“Who are you?” Nathan asked in disbelief.
“I’m EV-ER-ETT, you sure ain’t brightest star in the sky tonight, are ya?”
“No, I mean how’d you know all that stuff about me.”
“I been around a while, I pick up thing.” He said gathering his things.
The two men approached another crossroads and stopped. Nathan looked at the two roads and tried to make a choice but he couldn’t. “I don’t know which way to go.”
Everett looked into the field and then into the forest. “yonder past the field is a city with what you want most. It’s a long, hard road to follow. But I’d say it’ll be worth it.
O’r here in the woods, you’s goona git shade and streams of fresh water and fish. It’s bout as hard to travel but you can find food and shelter, you just aint goona find what you’re lookin for in there”
“Aren’t there wild animals in the forest?”
“Well sure, but long as you don’t let them eat ya, you’ll be fine.”
“So what is it that you think I want most in life?”
“Oh for heaven’s sake son, make a choice or let’s get goin. You’re becoming a boil on my neck.”
The choice seemed to be skewed toward the forest. It had shade and water, but in his heart he felt it was not what it appeared to be. He couldn’t shake the idea that what he wanted most was beyond this field. He just wasn’t sure what that was.
What he wanted most was his Kathleen, but she wasn’t at the end of any road. He wanted to get home to his children but they too, weren’t at the end of any road. What he wanted most was answers.
He began to walk into the field when Everett called to him. “Hey Boy?”
“Ya?” Nathan stopped.
“Don’t you be quit’n down there, there’s always a way through and don’t be wast’n time with folks if they ain’t got both feet in the verity.”
“In the what?” he called back.
“Verity.” Everett said pointing to the field that Nathan was standing in.
Nathan shrugged his shoulders, it looked like wheat to him.
The old man was strange but wise, he thought. He looked over the field hoping that this was the right choice. “Thank you Everett…”as he turned around to face the old man, he saw that the forest was now right behind him, Everett and the path they had walked on were gone. He had made his choice. There was no opportunity for indecision anymore, he had to go on. He was determined to follow the path through the field and reach the other side.
Chapter 3