Nikki was lighting the candles on the dining table when Jim emerged from the bathroom in the faded jeans, sweat shirt, and tennis shoes she had left for him.
“Now that’s more like it,” she said as she walked over to him in the kitchen, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him. “Mmm, I knew there was a man somewhere under all that sweat.” Jim had a worried, distant look on his face that made her curious. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re here,” he replied, looking into her eyes.
“Good.” She smiled, then let go of him. “Why don’t you open the wine while I serve dinner?”
“All right.” He turned and disappeared into the dining room. Nikki carefully placed food on each plate precisely and evenly. Then she added a mint leaf as garnish, even though she knew Jim wouldn’t notice the extra touch. He scarcely noticed anything else when food was involved.
Perfect, she thought. It was just the right amount of color. Nikki lifted the two plates and walked into the dining room. After placing one in front of Jim, she sat down on the other side of the table.
“Mmm!” Jim exclaimed, as he stuffed a fork full of food into his mouth.
“Slow down, Jim! That’s a fork, not a shovel,” Nikki scolded in an irritated voice.
“Sorry,” Jim said, looking over to her. “It sure is good.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She was happy that he appreciated her efforts. “I’ll get some culture in you yet.” Nikki tried to make small talk, but saw that Jim had something on his mind. He looked worried, so she let him finish his meal in silence. When Jim was finished he sat back in his chair and smiled.
“Why don’t you go in the living room and sit down while I clear the dishes,” Nikki suggested. Without saying anything Jim got up, took his glass and the wine bottle, and walked into the living room.
He placed his glass and the bottle on the floor, moved the coffee table out of the way, then took four large pillows off of the couch and placed them on the floor to be closer to the fire. Seeing that the flames were dying, he knelt in front of it and placed another log on top. When Jim stood up he was surprised to see a black and white picture of his parents staring back at him from the mantle. He slowly reached for it, picked it up, and stared at it.
“I hope you don’t mind,” came a voice behind him. “I found it in a drawer. They looked so young and in love I thought it should be on the mantle.” Jim didn’t answer. He just stood there staring at it. Nikki placed her hand on his shoulder. “Jim?”
“What? Oh, yes, it’s all right. I just haven’t seen it in so long,” he replied, snapping out of the trance. He returned it to the mantle. Sitting down on the floor in front of the fire, Jim leaned on the pillows. Nikki sat next to him and poured herself a glass of wine, then filled his glass as well.
“Why haven’t you told me about them?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It’s such a long story,” Jim replied before taking a drink from his glass.
“I’ve got the time,” Nikki assured him, as she eased in under his arm and rested her head on his chest. After a long moment Jim began to speak.
“It was such a long time ago,” he repeated. “I barely remember them. They were childhood sweethearts-small town kids in too much of a hurry to go no where. That’s what my grandfather used to say. They got married young. My mother wasn’t even eighteen.
My father drove a logging truck until he got drafted. I was too young to remember when he left. All I can recall is that one day my mother was holding a piece of paper from the war department and crying on grandpa’s shoulder. I tried to ask what was wrong but they both where crying too much to know I was there.”
“Was that Korea?” Nikki asked.
“Yeah. Anyway, my mom didn’t seem to notice me most of the time after that. Although, sometimes, she would grab me and hold me tight and cry. One day, not long afterwards, there was an ambulance at my house when I came home from school. Grandpa met me at the door and tried to explain to me that my mother had left and went to be with my father. I didn’t understand then, but I figured it out when I was older.”
Jim took a long drink as he stared into the fire. “My grandfather raised me. We only had each other, and that made every moment important, especially for him. We did everything together-hunting and fishing mostly. Heck, we lived for the steelhead run on the Cowlitz!”
“What about your grandmother, what happened to her?”
“I don’t know exactly… she died before I was born, before grandpa got back from the war. He was a paratrooper in World War II. I would hate to think what would’ve happened to him if I wouldn’t have been around. He always called me son, and sometimes he would slip and call me by my father’s name. I didn’t mind, for all practical purposes he was my father.”
Jim hesitated before continuing. “I still remember the pain in his eyes when I got my notice. I was so mad I ran down to the draft office and swore at them. I felt that my family had suffered enough and that they had gone too far. But grandpa went down there and got me, took me home, and gave me the speech about duty, honor and country. Then he walked into his room and cried his eyes out.
Grandpa had a bad heart, and stress and lack of sleep was taking its toll. I filed for a hardship case in order to take care of him, but it was denied. They said that if my grandfather’s condition got worse, they would reconsider and send me home. Grandpa had too much pride, though. He helped me get ready for boot camp when he should have been in the hospital.”
“So what branch of service were you in?” Nikki asked.
“Army Airborne, like my grandfather,” Jim said with a smile, then finished his glass and refilled it. They laid there, staring at the fire for a few moments in silence.
“So what happened?” Nikki finally asked.
Again, a sad distant look appeared on Jim’s face. “Several months later, my grandfather collapsed and was hospitalized.”
“Did they send you home?” Nikki asked, sitting up to look at him.
“My Airborne unit was a special squad,” he explained. “We were dropped behind the lines to cut the enemy off as they retreated. By the time the hospital notified the Army, it was too late to notify me. I was deep in the jungle. When my unit got back to base, my grandfather had already died and was buried,” Jim said with a tear in his eye.
“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” Nikki tried to console him.
“I was very angry at what I felt my country had done to my family. But out of respect for my grandfather, I buried those feelings deep inside.”
“So what did you do?”
“I did the only thing I could do—my job. I just wasn’t ready to deal with all the emotions, so I concentrated on my Army duties to keep my mind occupied.” He took a moment before continuing.
“My unit was assigned to cut off the retreat of the enemy. Do you know what that’s like? It’s like cornering a wild animal, and the only way for it to escape is straight through you. Only, the North Vietnamese Army was like no animal I’ve ever seen. They came from all directions, screaming like mad men as they attacked. That’s what war is―madness. It didn’t take long before you were as crazy as they were. When the bullets ran out, it was hand to hand combat.”
We turned into animals as well, he didn’t say, for fear of how she might think of him. Once he had hunted the NVA for a whole night with only a rock in his hand. He had no idea how he had found them in the dark, but back then, he swore he could smell the bastards.
Jim’s hand shook as he drank his wine. “War changes people,” he said, after a moment. “I think I resented the government more for what they turned me into than for destroying my family. But those were the feelings of a foolish young kid,” he said, almost as if he believed it and was slightly embarrassed for saying so.
Jim’s body language told Nikki that these experiences still disturbed him and she tried to move the conversation in a less painful directi
on. “So what rank were you?”
“Rank doesn’t mean much when you’re in the bush,” he frowned. “All us grunts started as privates. I got promoted to Corporal, then to Sergeant because I seemed to have a natural talent for out maneuvering the enemy. Besides, promotions come quickly in the jungle when people are dying around you. Several times I found myself in command of the whole platoon, or what was left of it.”
Jim didn’t know why he continued. It just seemed to feel better telling someone about it after all these years. “My last mission was the worst. We were to be dropped deep behind enemy lines at a location the Intelligence had told us was clear. Reconnaissance photos had shown a large, heavily damaged NVA unit trying to escape north. In order to do so, they had to go through the deserted valley we were being dropped into. But we didn’t know that their destination was that valley.”
As Nikki listened, Jim remembered the events still vivid in his mind as if they had happened yesterday. A slight chill of anxiety went up his spine as his trembling lips spoke of the images that still occasionally wake him from deep sleep.
“I recall the jumpmaster saying, it was a bomber’s moon, with a smile and a thumbs up. That meant good luck, especially to night bombers who needed the full moon to see their target clearly, and to paratroopers whose lives depended on their hitting the mark. That relieved some of the tension in the jump plane that had been building since take off.
“What we didn’t anticipate, however, was that the same advantage could be used by soldiers on the ground to track the fall of jumpers. What Intelligence didn’t know, and what couldn’t be revealed by any aerial reconnaissance photos, was that this supposedly deserted jungle valley was, in fact, an underground NVA base linked together by countless tunnels.
“Our luck had just run out,” Jim continued. “Moments after I and the others had jumped, I looked down and saw what appeared to be thousands of ants coming out of holes. To my horror, I realized they were NVA troops preparing to lay in wait for us. We were falling into a trap. As soon as the jumpers were in range, tracer fire lit up the night, picking off the paratroopers one by one. We were like lambs to the slaughter, as each in turn came into range of the guns.
He continued to recount the event. Jim cut away his chute just as a streak of bullets sliced past him. He fell towards the darkened earth at an alarming rate then pulled his back up chute just above the tree tops. The enemy failed to target him accurately and he slid into the trees before they could draw a bead.
The branches hit him hard, ripping into cloth and flesh. Then he crashed into the ground with a jolt that knocked the wind out of him. Bruised and bloody, he struggled to his feet in time to see the first of the enemy come down upon him.
“My squad fought for several hours,” he said, looking into the fire. “When it was all over, there were only five of us left. We were cut off from the main troop with just a little food and no radio. Our moods were grim- none of us thought we’d make it out alive.” Jim hesitated, as if stuck in some distant place in his mind.
Nikki looked at him. His facial expression was frozen and pale, but she could feel his heart pound rapidly through shallow breathing. She could tell that he was reliving the experience in his mind. She thought that maybe they should stop talking about it, but then she decided she must help him continue.
“So, what did you do?” she finally asked.
“I decided to be as unpredictable as possible, so instead of heading south back to base, we retreated north.” The moment he started talking again, Nikki felt his heart rate slow, returning to normal. “The further north we got the fewer NVA we ran into. We came upon a NVA outpost about the same time we ran out of food. We had to do something, so that night I took all the claymores and flares we had and climbed to the opposite hill above the camp. I fired off the flares and started throwing grenades everywhere to make it seem like there were a whole lot of us.”
“What were the other guys doing?”
“They were on the edge of camp, on the other side, hiding in the bushes and protecting their eyes from the flares. By the time the NVA came up the hill after me I had booby-traps set. When the flares burnt out, my men came out of the bushes and into camp. The few NVA left behind were night blinded by the flares and were easy targets. We stole as much food and weapons as we could carry, then booby-trapped the camp. When what was left of the NVA troop got back to camp, they got a big surprise.”
“That sounds pretty risky.”
“Well, they were young and not well trained, so it wasn’t too difficult,” he assured her. “Anyway, we continued to head north. Climbing over the mountains, we then headed south down a different drainage. We only fought when we had to, especially when we were out of food or ammo. Then we would retreat north again until things cooled off.
It became more difficult and movement was slowed as we went further south. The NVA had their best and most experienced troops on the front lines. They didn’t fall for many of our tricks, and it became bloody. We all got beat up pretty bad, but we made it back alive and a month overdue. That’s when I met Buck. He was a Major in command of Special Operations and he came to debrief me. He seemed amazed at what we had done. He wrote it all down to use it in an officers training course on surprise tactics. I was surprised as well when Buck told me my tour had ended when I was in the jungle.”
Nikki looked at him questioningly. She had talked to Buck only a few times and never would have pictured him as an officer… especially one in Special Operations! “Buck doesn’t give me the impression of the type of person I would think of in that kind of position.”
“You’re right. He really wasn’t cut out for that type of work. Buck was a good soldier and an excellent drill instructor, but when it came to planning strategies for covert military operations he was in way over his head,” Jim stated.
“Then how did he get assigned such an important job?” Nikki asked, intently.
“Well, to understand that you have to know a little more about Buck.” Jim paused a long moment wondering how to begin. “Buck is basically just an old trader and story teller,” Jim began by saying. Nikki listened as Jim explained everything he had come to know about his friend.
“Buck was raised on a small farm in the Midwest. It was the depression era mentality. Nobody had much money so most everything you needed had to be bartered for. Buck learned from his father how to get the best deals. Chickens and pigs were not valued in dollars, but by how many meals they represented. That, in turn, was balanced by the number of acres that could be planted or harvested by the fuel or spare parts you had for trade.
So, Buck became an expert trader. It helped that he liked people, and, no matter where he was, he always made it a point of meeting everyone. Through regular visits, he would always remember what people needed or had and he would arrange trades between different groups and families.
Trades would become all day events, and sometimes stretch into the night. They would have bon fires, cookouts, and dances. When it got late people huddled around the fire to listen to the old men compete by exchanging stories of their adventures. Buck learned fast and was soon spinning his own tales. He was a natural at reading an audience, and could change the direction of a story depending on the mood of each.
“Then how did he become a soldier?” she asked.
“Buck never liked farming. He wanted to travel the world and have the type of adventures he talked about in his stories.” Jim continued after a moment.
“Buck finally left home and joined the Army. Sent to Europe, he fought in the final months of World War II, where it was discovered he had another valuable skill—tracking. The farm where Buck grew up was next to an Indian Reservation, and he had learned from his Native American friends how to hunt and track animals. The things he knew about birds using camouflage or animals building hiding places were valuable skills when looking for the enemy.
“Buck quickly became
popular. Not only could he find the enemy better than anyone else, but he usually returned from patrol with a mountain grouse or wild boar. These were valuable commodities among soldiers tired of Army rations. His troop would have a barbecue, then Buck would provide entertainment with a few stories. The only part Buck couldn’t stand was the killing. It made him feel sick and he was glad when the war ended.
“Post-war life was good to Buck. Staying in Europe as part of the Occupational Forces, he got a chance to travel and let his trading skill flourish. Inflation was rampant in post-war Europe making currency almost useless. Bartering on the black market became a way of life, and, although it was technically illegal, you could never convince Buck of that.
Buck facilitated trades and made sure everyone got what they wanted in a fair manner. Just like back at the farm, anything could be traded. The locals had chickens, pigs, fresh baked breads, pies, and such while a post-war Army had an over abundance of fuel, lubricants, and spare parts.
Officers looked the other way, knowing that they could expect a good meal and a portion of Buck’s trading fee. Buck quickly made a lot of money for an Army Private. Banks were insecure and currency rates were volatile, so he learned from other black marketers to convert paper money into diamonds. This method came in handy for a soldier who was routinely moved from base to base on a moments notice. A few diamonds could easily be carried in his pocket or footlocker.
A few years later, the Korean War started and Buck was transferred from Europe to the Asian continent. Again he was put on the front lines where killing the enemy became a daily event. The guilty feelings were too much for him, and that’s when he began drinking. So Buck devised a plan to get as far away from the fighting as possible. A discrete inquiry, a couple of diamonds here or there, and Buck found himself moving up the chain of command and into an officers training program. He managed to stay out of combat, and by the end of the war he was a Lieutenant.
Post-war Korea had the same problems Europe had- insolvent banks, rampant inflation, volatile currency and a population with needs that had to be met. It was the perfect environment for a trader like Buck. Being an officer had an added bonus. He now had access to even more capital, and soon his personal wealth increased dramatically.
Again, a few donations to the right people and a couple years before the start of the hostilities in Vietnam, Buck had Captain’s bars added to his uniform. He was getting older now, it wouldn’t be long before he would have to retire, so his focus changed to securing the best retirement possible. He already had a sack of diamonds, but wanted the added security of the large monthly retirement checks received by higher ranking officers, so Buck searched for a choice position to sit back and retire in.
A few inquires turned up an answer that surprised him. It seemed that a Police Action was being declared in Vietnam and the US was taking an advisory roll. Rumors throughout the ranks stated that these hostilities would be governed by new rules of engagement handed down by politicians. The Armed Forces could not go across the 49th Parallel or cross boarders. The enemy was not to be destroyed, but contained and the use of Special Forces would be strictly prohibited.
After lining the right pockets, Buck was promoted to Major and given command of Special Operations. There he hoped to sit back for a few years taking it easy while his unit conducted drills from the safety of a base far away from enemy lines. However, these hostilities were not controlled by a General who commanded forces from the battle field with the intention of destroying the enemy. Instead, orders came directly from Washington DC, and Buck started receiving top secret instructions to conduct surgical strikes behind enemy lines.
As the hostilities progressed the situation changed, and a full-fledged war was declared. For the first few years things had gone as the politicians in DC had planned it. The NVA were young, inexperienced troops who were easily pushed back and controlled. As time went by, however, they became battle tested. Rumors of help from Soviet military advisors were going around, and US tactics were analyzed and countered.
US troops started dying. Instead of changing strategies, the politicians left their so called rules of engagement in place. Although his men were well trained, they were now going against battle hardened NVA– trained and advised by Soviet military specialist. Buck was suddenly out of his league. He sent men out into the jungle and they returned in body bags. The few people he had helping him plan strategies were taught in the same classes and out of the same book that he had, but each new move seemed to be anticipated by the enemy.
Buck felt guilty and responsible for the deaths of his men and started drinking heavily. He asked for a transfer, but it was refused. It seemed that only a few people in DC knew of his secret orders. They didn’t want any reassignment drawing attention to the project. Buck was ordered to keep his mouth shut and do a better job. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
That was about the time Buck met Jim. Buck was intrigued by a story about a small group of soldiers who had survived more than a month behind enemy lines. They conducted surprise attacks and out maneuvered Charley while trying to make their way back to base. Buck rushed down to the Army hospital, where the soldiers were recovering, to meet the man who had out witted the NVA.
After listening to Jim’s story, Buck asked a hypothetical question. If you were planning missions based on tactics learned from books you suspected the enemy has also read, what would you do? Jim’s answer was simple- throw away the book. Or better yet, use what you believed the enemy knew about the book to out maneuver him. Jim was like a breath of fresh air. Here was someone with a natural instinct for tactics, and it wasn’t taught to him by any military school.
Jim’s tour of duty was over, but he needed a few weeks in the hospital to fully recover from his injures. This gave him time to help Buck plan the next mission. By the time they were through, Jim was healthy and ready to go home. After saying goodbye to Buck, he boarded a transport and flew back to the States.
Jim was only home a few days when he received a message from Buck. Jim’s plan had worked perfectly. Not only did they strike a serious blow to the enemy, but every member of the assault team came back without a scratch. Buck begged Jim to come back to Vietnam to help him, but Jim insisted that he was through with the Army for good. He hadn’t wanted to join in the first place, and had no intention of re-enlisting. However, he was happy that his plan had such positive results.
Jim’s feelings were mixed. Coming home had not given him the peace he was looking for—he was still too angry and confused. Jim didn’t like the war, nor did he understand it. He made it very clear to Buck he had no intention of supporting it. However, he felt he had an obligation to the people involved, many of whom were there involuntarily as he was. He figured they probably felt the way he did- angry, confused, and just wanted to make it home alive. He couldn’t help with the first two problems, but if he could help with the third, then he knew he had to.
Jim boarded the next transport back to Asia. In his usual way, Buck arranged a special job assignment. Jim was given a civilian job as a paper pusher in the American Embassy in Saigon. The situation worked out well for everyone. Jim helped Buck plan missions, and having a project to dive into helped him take his mind off some of the emotional issues he had been dealing with.
Neither one of them cared much for the mission’s actual purpose, but agreed that the safety of the men was a must and their plans reflected those intentions. Successful missions were carried out and men came home alive. Buck’s conscience was clearing up, his drinking decreased significantly, and the two men quickly became close friends. Buck was promoted to Colonel, for which he was very proud because it was the first promotion he didn’t have to buy.
Feeling better, Buck again went back to planning for retirement. All the pockets he had to line to get his promotions and Jim’s embassy job had dwindled his nest egg in half. In between missions, Buck introduced Jim to
the black market and taught him how to trade. Jim learned quickly and soon he and Buck were in a friendly competition against each other to see who could make the best deals.
Jim discovered that products for women were scarce in a war zone. He started making routine trips to Japan to pick up perfume, silk stockings and makeup. When he returned, he sold them for ten fold.
Buck had only a couple of months left until retirement and his nest egg was still lower than he had wanted. So he got involved with trades that were more risky but had higher profit margins and was doing quite well. After getting a tip from an unscrupulous black marketer, Buck went to a local bank inquiring about a shipping company which needed investors. The banker explained that he needed money to finance the startup of a company to bring goods into this war torn region. This company would quickly have a monopoly controlling all goods coming in and going out of the country.
Buck saw it as a way to get rich quickly and put up every cent he had. After a few weeks of not being able to reach his new partner, he went back to the bank. He met with the bank’s president, who explained that a former employee had run a con game on some of the bank’s customers. He had taken a lot of peoples money, including Buck’s, then left the country.
“Buck must have been devastated,” Nikki spoke up.
“Oh, he was,” Jim continued. “He was so angry that he went on an all night drinking binge and the next morning he stole a tank and drove it right through the front of the bank.”
“So how did Buck end up here?”
“Well, neither one of us had much of a family so we kind of adopted each other. I remembered Buck talked about starting an outfitting service so I convinced him to move here. After the loss of his nest egg, Buck suffered somewhat of a breakdown. We came back from Asia, and we were both surprised at the changes we saw.
Buck hadn’t been back to the States since he was a teenager. The big city was like a different world to him, and he didn’t like it. He wanted to return to the old days, like the ones he knew on the farm. I told him I knew a place where the small town culture was still alive and well,” Jim continued telling his story.
When they arrived in Lewis County, they didn’t like what they saw—it wasn’t the way Jim had left it. Big city influences had moved in. Hippies from out of town were having “love-ins” and protests. Buck didn’t like it either, and was ready to leave but Jim changed his mind.
They had a new mission and set out to clean up the town and restore the small town culture to its former glory. It was an election year and Jim got on the ballot for Sheriff. Buck went door to door meeting everyone convincing people to vote for Jim. With the support of the community, Jim and his small town culture platform won the election by a land slide.
Jim went to work immediately. He pushed the riff raff out and back to the cities. As drifters came in, Jim would screen them to determine their motives. If they were seeking a quiet life and could be a valued member of the community, Jim allowed them to stay. If not, they were quickly given a bus ticket to the city and run out of town.
“And that’s the way it’s been for almost three decades,” Jim finished. “It’s been a constant battle, but it’s been worth it.” Jim had never talked this much in his life. He was comfortable talking to Nikki, and felt as if a weight had been lifted from him.
His story had gone so long, he hadn’t noticed that the fire was almost down to embers.
“It’s getting cold. Let me put some more wood on the fire.” They both slowly moved out of their embrace. Jim went to the fire, tossed another log on it then stoked it back to life. Nikki stood up, then walked around the room stretching her legs, glad that Jim had shared so much.
“So is that why Buck drinks so much?” Nikki asked. “Does he still feel guilty about the war?”
Jim stood up, picked up his wine glass, and pondered the question. “I don’t think so. I know his drinking has increased in the past few years, but for a long time he had always kept it in check. Although, every few years or so, something would happen to set it off and Buck would go on a week long binge. Then, I go spend a few days with him. He calms down, dries out, and everything is fine again.”
“It sounds like you’ve spent a lot of time helping him,” Nikki observed. “I’ve been told you spend a lot of your time helping others with problems, as well.”
“The job of a Sheriff is kind of like that of a shepherd,” Jim replied after a moment. “Sometimes the flock needs to be tended to.”
“I know, Jim, but they don’t seem to get any better. You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” She rubbed his back gently. “Buck seems to have some unresolved issues he’s dealing with. Has he ever considered seeking professional help?”
“You mean like a shrink?” Jim cocked his head and frowned at the idea. He and Buck both knew the problems their friend Rick had with the Army doctors and didn’t think it would help. “The only therapy Buck has ever gotten he found on the end of his fishing pole or at the bottom of a bottle.”
“Maybe you both should consider talking to a professional about your problems.”
“Both!” Jim looked up with surprise at the suggestion. “What do you mean both?”
“Both of you obviously have emotional issues you haven’t been able to work through. Buck looks for relief by drinking and you hide in your work. You said it yourself. You needed a project to dive into to get your mind off of it,” Nikki replied. “Maybe that’s why you’re such a work-a-holic.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Jim defended.
“That’s just denial,” she returned. “Much of what you said makes it clear. Shock, anger, denial, guilt—they’re all symptoms of an emotional trauma.” Nikki looked at Jim, thoughtfully. “It’s a normal process, Jim. Anytime someone gets emotionally hurt they have to go through these steps to get to forgiveness and healing. You both seem to be stuck in some stage or another and just need a little help to get through it and move on.”
“You sound like an expert,” Jim noted.
She put her arms around him and held him. “I’m not,” she said softly. “I’m just passing on some of the things I’ve learned from Josephine. She says that some times people can’t recognize they have a problem because they’re too personally involved to see it. It sounds as if there’s something in both your lives that’s holding you back from reaching healing. Like not seeing the forest through the trees, you may be too close to the situation to be able to identify what the problem is.”
She pulled away slightly and looked into his eyes. “I’m reminded of some words my favorite poet, Emily Dickinson, once wrote, ‘The mind is so near itself it can not see distinctly’.
Psychologists are trained professionals, Jim. They can help you identify what’s wrong and help you come to grips with it and eliminate it.” Then a thought occurred to Nikki. “If you won’t see a doctor, maybe you should do like I do and talk to Joe. I bet she could help quite a bit. She’s working on her doctorate in psychology, you know.”
Jim listened to Nikki’s words. She always had a way of explaining things in a straight forward, nonjudgmental manner and he wondered if perhaps she was right. He had never considered that he may have a problem, at least not one that could be fixed by a doctor. He then considered her suggestion about talking to Joe and that troubled him.
“I don’t know… maybe.” Jim said, thinking about it as he held her. He wasn’t ready to share that much with Rissley, he decided. “If it’s all right, I’d rather start with you and work my way up.”
“That’s just fine,” she replied with a squeeze.
They held each other for a long while, and Jim was glad to have Nikki there. For years he had to be the strong one taking care of everyone else’s needs, protecting them from harm, and picking up the pieces if something went wrong. He had never been able to consider his own needs.
Jim took a deep breath and smelled Nikki’s perfume. It w
as nice having someone as wonderful as Nikki looking out for him and taking care of him. He knew he never wanted it to end. Then a thought occurred to him. “Have you been talking to Rissley about me?”
“No, I would never do that,” She assured him as she looked into his eyes. Then she slowly looked away sadly. “Joe has been helping me resolve some issues I haven’t been able to work through. Some problems I’ve had with my parents.”
“Is that why you’ve never mentioned them?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s just been too hard to deal with alone.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
It only took a second for her to know that she did want to tell him about it. She had wanted to for some time, and thought it would be helpful to get a male perspective of the situation.
“We had a falling out a several years back,” she started by saying. She slowly turned away from him and stared distantly into the fire. “It all started about the time I graduated from college. I had finished my finals two days before commencement. Mom was back east visiting my grandparents, so I thought I would drive home to surprise my father and maybe make him a decent meal. I arrived in Seattle as the sun came up and walked into the house. I caught my father in the kitchen kissing another woman. They stood right in front of me!” she exclaimed. “That little tramp was wearing nothing but one of my fathers dress shirts!”
“What happened?” Jim asked.
“I was furious! My father took me in the other room and tried to calm me down. We argued for awhile then I ran out of the house and drove back to school. The next day my father and mother showed up for my graduation looking like the perfect couple. They held hands and even kissed each other.”
“What did you do? Did you tell your mother?”
“Of course. I had to tell her,” Nikki said. “When I was able to get her alone I told her the whole story.”
“Was she angry?” Jim asked as he watched her pace nervously.
“No! Not in the least! She said that she had hoped that I would never find out.” Nikki exclaimed. “My mother told me that she had first caught him with another woman when she was pregnant with me and that, although she was angry then, she had come to accept his affairs as long as he was discrete.”
“So what did you say to her?”
“I was dumb founded. I didn’t know what to say,” Nikki replied. “My mother explained to me that women have come and gone over the years and that my father loved us both very much and would never leave.”
“Why didn’t she divorce him?”
“My mother’s side of the family has always been concerned about outward appearances. My grandmother is from Saudi Arabia. She met my grandfather, who was a rich American oil man, when he was there on business. They fell in love, which was taboo to her side of the family so they kept it a secret. Finally, they ran away, flew to America, and got married. My mother grew up being taught that women were subservient to their husbands. Mother fell in love with my father, who is a brilliant surgeon, and she spends most of her time alone at home while he practically lives at the hospital. No, she won’t leave him because somehow she thinks it would disgrace her in her family’s eyes.”
“So you haven’t talked to them since?” Jim asked.
“I still call mother from time to time, especially on holidays. I haven’t talked to him, though. He’s always at the hospital anyway. That’s the way it’s been my whole life. I rarely saw my father,” she said sadly. “And when I did we were always arguing.”
“What about?”
“You name it, we argued about it. Especially about my career. I was an only child, so he naturally expected that I would follow in his footsteps and become a doctor.”
“And you didn’t want that?”
“No I didn’t. I wanted to really help people. Don’t get me wrong, doctors’ work very hard and save a lot of lives, but it’s not the same as a nurse. Doctors are usually too busy to get to know their patients or even care. They run out of one operating room and into the next. When they do talk to their patients, it’s just long enough to look at their charts and prescribe medication. Then it’s out the door again.”
“A nurse is different.” She assured him. “We sit and talk to the patients and make sure that they have everything they need. A hospital is not a fun place to be, especially if you’re a patient or a member of the family. Nurses take care of the whole family. We comfort them and make them feel at ease. Doctors aren’t very good at that sort of thing,” she said as she again stared into the fire. “So as you can see, I’ve gone through some of the stages of trauma, as well- shock at finding my father with another woman, anger at realizing what the situation was. Joe says that moving here from Seattle is a form of denial as I tried to forget my feelings. I know it sounds silly, but I’ve even felt guilty. Wondering if I had been a better daughter, would things be different?” She looked over to him. “I’m stuck. I can’t seem to resolve these feelings and get to forgiveness and healing.” She looked back to the fire and stared at it for a long time in silence.
“If you never saw your father, how is it that you became such a tom-boy?” Jim asked, trying to break the tension.
Nikki looked at him and smiled, happy to change the subject. I mainly started hiking and camping when I was in college. Most of the students there were into nature. ‘Granolas’, I called them. Do you remember when we first met?” she said with a big smile on her face. “You pulled me over for going through a stop sign, or something stupid like that, then you couldn’t bring yourself to give me a ticket.”
“I let you off with a warning because you were from out of town and didn’t know where you were going,” he protested.
“Yeah, sure,” she said smiling, not believing him. “I suppose that’s why, when I asked you directions to the camp ground on Riffe lake, you personally escorted me there.”
“That was because I didn’t want a big city driver causing any accidents in my county. I’ve got a responsibility to the community, you know,” Jim argued.
Nikki laughed at this. “Is that why you showed up at my camp everyday to see me?”
Jim didn’t answer. He just sat there fuming.
“You were so cute! Everyday your face would get bright red as you tried to come up with another lame excuse for just being in the neighborhood. Jim you can’t lie to save your life!”
“I can too! You don’t know anything.” Jim tried defending himself as he felt his face turned red again. Damn! I wish I could control that, he thought to himself as Nikki let out a huge laugh at the sight of him.
“Oh yeah,” he countered. “Well, you’re the one who decided to move here after only knowing me for a few days.”
“What!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t move here to be with you, I moved here to work at the county hospital.”
“You already had a job. Why did you need another one?”
“I’ve told you this before,” she defended herself. “When I saw the hospital here I just fell in love with it. It wasn’t like the hustle and bustle of a big city hospital. The nurses have time to get to know their patients. It feels more like a family taking care of its own than a hospital.” Nikki’s face turned sad, then she put her hands to her face and started to cry.
Jim rushed to her and held her. “I can’t believe it, Jim. My whole life I grew up believing that certain things were good, decent, and sacred. Every week my parents and I would walk into church looking like the model family, and it was all just a show for the public!” She cried on his shirt.
After a few moments she stopped and looked at him, then kissed him. “You would never do that would you, Jim? Of course not, you could never lie to me,” she said as their eyes met. “I guess that’s why I love you so much.”
Jim was too surprised to speak. He just froze.
Seeing his expression, Nikki nervously looked past him and out the window. “Look at i
t outside, it’s really coming down,” she said as she stepped away from him, changing the subject.
Jim then walked over to her at the window and wrapped his arms around her trembling body. “It’s a bad storm,” he agreed. He hadn’t noticed, until then, that it was even raining. “Maybe you should stay here tonight.” He didn’t want her out in the weather trying to get home.
She turned around and looked at him. “I don’t know, Jim,” she said with a skeptical tone. “I know that’s against your rules.”
Ring!
The phone rang in the kitchen, but they didn’t even notice it, they just stared at each other.
Ring!
“I’m sure of it,” he replied, then kissed her gently. “You can have the bed and I’ll take the couch.”
Ring!
She rolled her eyes. Of course, she thought. She’d never known Jim to do anything improper―even when no one was looking. “Oh, Jim,” she said with a hint of frustration. “You’re always so…”
“Boring?” he finished for her.
Ring!
“No,” she replied with a slight giggle. Jim wasn’t like any man she’d ever known. He was always reliable. He would never lie to her or fool around behind her back like her father had. And that’s what she desperately needed in her life. Even if they did nothing wrong, she knew he’d still feel guilty for even the appearance of impropriety.
Ring!
“No, Jim,” she said with complete sincerity. “You’re always so…perfect.”
Ring!
He blushed with embarrassment.
Ring!
The phone distracted her. “I think you had better get that, it might be important,” she said softly as she smiled at him.
Ring!
“It’ll go away,” he replied, and hoped that it would, as he tried to kiss her again.
Ring!
She stopped him and gave him a stern look. Growing up in a home with a doctor, she knew calls this late at night were usually important.
“All right,” he said, then stepped away from her and walked towards the kitchen.
Ring!
He lifted the receiver. “Jim, here.”
“Jim! I’m glad I got a hold of you,” said the voice on the line.
“Buck, is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry to call you so late but I need you to do me a favor.”
“Lord! Buck its three o’clock in the morning!” Jim said impatiently as he glanced at the clock, then looked at Nikki in the living room.
“I know, I’m sorry but I need you to take the trail garbage to the land fill.”
“Why can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“Marcellous called and told me that he’s taking a couple of days off, but that he would open the land fill for this load this morning.”
“Why can’t you take it in?”
“It’s a long story, Jim. Will you come out and get it?” Buck pleaded.
“Yeah, all right,” Jim said reluctantly. “I’ll head out right away.”
“Thanks! See you in a little while.”
Jim hung up the phone and rubbed his tired eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Nikki asked as she walked into the kitchen.
“That was Buck. He needs me to dump all the garbage he picked up on the trail,” Jim replied.
“What!” she exclaimed. “Why can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“The land fill will be closed for a couple of days.” Jim answered.
“Then why can’t it wait a couple of days?”
“Buck picks the garbage up so that it won’t attract the bears closer to town. He doesn’t like to keep it at his place because he doesn’t want bears messing with his mules.”
“Do you have to go?” she asked as she put her arms around him. She already knew what her reliable man would say.
“Yeah, I’d better. That way I can get home and get some sleep. Looks like I’ll be going into work a little late tomorrow,” he said, again looking at the clock. “You should get some sleep, too. What time do you have to work tomorrow?”
“Not until the afternoon. I’ll get plenty of sleep,” she assured him.
“All right then, why don’t you crawl into bed and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she replied, then kissed him.
Jim turned around and headed for the back door where he put on his rubber boots, raincoat, and hat. He then opened the door and walked outside. It was really coming down, he noticed. The rain beat hard against him as he waded through the puddles around Nikki’s car to his 4x4. He got in the Blazer, started it up, and turned the wipers to full, and then decided to lock in the hubs.
The road to Buck’s place was bound to be a mud pit, and he didn’t want to get stuck in the ditch. Jim jumped out of the Blazer, made the adjustments at the wheels, then got back in. He pulled the vehicle around behind the shop, then ran over to a small homemade trailer. Pulling it to the back of the Blazer, he attached it to the hitch. He jumped back into the driver’s seat, drove the truck down the driveway and onto the gravel road.
His tired mind thought about the trip. It was fifty miles to Buck’s place so he’d better get comfortable. Jim turned on his dispatch radio and listened to the calls being sent out. He heard nothing unusual as the Blazer rolled through town, then turned onto the ramp to I-5 South. A short time later, he turned onto Highway 12 and headed east.
Jim turned off the dispatch radio and just listened to the sound of the hard rain as it tried to hammer its way through the roof. An hour later, the Blazer pulled into Morton. Jim made the turn north and knew that Buck’s place wasn’t far away now. He was glad that the road had lots of turns to keep his weary mind’s attention. He slowed down to make sure he made the slippery turns. There was nobody else on the road, and Jim wished he was like everyone else- snuggled warm and safe in a bed as the storm raged on outside, unnoticed.
* * * *
Chapter 13
Spin