Chapter 2
Sam's mind wandered back in time.
It was the day after the funeral. Sally, Sam’s daughter, and Frank, her husband, came back
to Sam's house with Sam’s three year old granddaughter, Jessica. They helped him clean and
tidy up. The previous day had been very trying for everyone. After the friends and
family who had stopped by after the funeral had left, everyone was too exhausted
to clean up the house.
It didn’t take long, under Sally’s gentle guidance and direction, for the place
to look spotless again; just like Mary would have liked it. By noon all was done and Sally
had fixed sandwiches and tomato soup for the four of them.
"Daddy, we need to talk."
"Yeah, honey I want to talk to you kids too, but you go first."
Sally began, "Daddy, Frank and I had a long discussion, and we both decided, well, Frank you tell him." Sally started to get teary eyed, and her voice was starting to strain under her efforts to keep from crying.
"Sam."
"What Frank? For cryin’ out loud just spit it out, you two OK, I mean you’re not getting divorced or something?"
"Daddy!" Sally said in a protesting tone.
"Sam, don’t be ridiculous, you know how much I love your little girl."
And Sam did know that. He always had a good read on people, and from the first couple of times that Sally had brought Frank around the house for dinner, until two years later when they married, Sam had always considered Frank a keeper.
"Good Christian boy that son-in-law of mine!" he would brag to his buddies that congregated outside the barber shop every day. "Darn right! Good conservative too! You know he worked his way through law school, to cover whatever his academic scholarships didn’t!"
"Yes Sam we know because you tell us this same story every week!"
"Yeah well you better pay attention because this son-in-law of mine is gonna’ go places one of these days. Wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he was governor of this state some day! Yessireebob, maybe Senator! Hell he’d make a dang fine President! Bring some flippin' ethics back to Washington."
"Oh geez here he goes again boys!" And they’d all just laugh and nod their heads in agreement with whatever Sam said.
You didn’t want to take issue with Sam when he was talking about Mary, or Sally, or Frank or little Jessica, because if you happen to say something that Sam took wrong, you’d be looking around for your teeth for the next three days. Not a man normally prone to violence, Sam was definitely beholding to the old adage that blood was thicker than water. So it was best you be mighty agreeable where Sam’s family was concerned. And never, never, ever mention anything about Johnny.
Johnny was Sam’s son. He had died when he was 19. Johnny was coming home one night from a concert at the college when a 51 year old drunk named Willie Myers crossed the center line and caused a head on collision. Johnny’s little Mustang was no match for old drunk Willie’s pick up truck. Johnny died at the scene while para-medics feverishly tried to pull his spirit back from the great beyond. Willie walked away without a scratch right into the arms of Sheriff McDougal. Judge Lorraine gave Willie five to ten years. Sam lost some faith in the Criminal Justice system that day. Five to ten years, that was all his boy’s life was worth? That was also the day Sam decided that he had drank his last bottle of beer. Sam was never one to over-indulge any way. The thought that alcohol played a part in Johnny's death just sort of turned Sam off to the very thought of ever taking another drink himself.
Bottom line was that when Frank asked Sam for Sally’s hand in marriage six years ago, he was happy to give those kids his blessing - and he hadn’t been wrong about Frank. Fine husband, great daddy to little Jessica, and a good provider, and he had that look. Sam saw that look in Frank’s eyes every time he saw Frank look at Sally. What was it Dionne Warwick called it? "The Look of Love." Yeah that’s it, the look of love! Sam knew that look well, because it reminded him of the way he always looked at Mary. It was a look of admiration, of love, of quiet tender passion, of amazement that he had been so lucky to find her.
"Daddy? Dad!"
"Oh, what sweetheart?"
"Are you listening to Frank or not?"
"Oh sorry honey I was sort of day dreamin’ there."
"OK Sam, like I was about to say, Sally and I want you to come live with us. It would be great. We don’t want you in this big house all alone, and Jessica would love to have Grandpa around all the time. And Sam, well you know how I feel about you, your like a second father to me. I’ll listen to Limbaugh on the radio during work at the law firm and you listen to him at home, and during dinner every night we can both debate about what a liberal he’s becoming!" Frank and Sam both laughed out loud, knowing that Limbaugh was about as conservative as they come.
About the only thing Sam and Frank ever argued about was which one of them was more conservative. They’d take sides on a political issue and argue just for the fun of it. It wasn't that they were at opposite ends of an issue, they were always both on the same end of the issue. They'd just argue about who was the farthest to the right!
Frank would taunt Sam, "Good Lord Sam if I didn’t know better I’d think you were gettin’ all soft and gooey on the inside from old age. You’re starting to sound suspiciously like some liberal, commie, left wing, save the spotted owl, greenie conservationist."
"WHAT? Why you little sack of dog droppings, I was a conservative before you were even a twinkle in your papa’s eye. You call yourself a conservative? A lawyer whose a conservative? What a crock of cat puke, ain’t that a little like being a Catholic Rabbi?"
They’d carry on that kind of friendly banter for hours. It was all in good fun and Sally knew that Sam and Frank had a special friendship, love, and respect for each other. Heck, they even went hunting, and fishing together. Sam had even taken Frank to his special mountain prospecting hideout on several occasions to do a little metal detecting and sluicing. Frank loved the great outdoors, but being a new partner at the law firm had made even greater demands on his time as of late. Unfortunately the outings with Sam had become fewer and farther in between.
"Now hold on a minute, you two!" Sam interrupted his own laughter about Frank’s comment that Rush Limbaugh was becoming too liberal for their taste.
"Frank I appreciate you and Sally’s concern over me, but there’s no need. I’ll get along fine. I got a lot to do. My claim needs workin’. Now that mom is gone, I can dedicate some real quality time on finding the mother load. I know it’s there somewhere. And well, you two kids have your family, and you don’t need some old goat hornin’ in…..
"But Daddy, you are part of our family." Sally said.
"Yes, honey I know I am, but you know what they say about fish and house guests they all stink after three days."
"But Dad you wouldn’t be a house gue--- "
Sam interrupted, "Now just stop right there, I’ve already made up my mind, so save your breath. The day after your mom passed I went to the bank, and the brokerage firm. I’ve taken care of all the paper work, I transferred all the stock your Mom and I had into you two’s account and I set up a college fund for my little cutie there."
"Dad!"
"Just listen and pay attention! I’ve signed the house over to you, it’s been paid off, oh I don’t know six, seven years ago. I took all the money out of the checking and savings accounts and closed them up, there’s a cashier’s check in that envelope made out to the both of you. I kept some money for myself to get me started full time up at the cabin and to get some things I need, but there’s plenty left. It was all going to be yours after I died anyway, so now you can just be grateful as a pig with a new bucket of slop while I’m still alive." He said with a smile.
"Sam, I don’t think you have really thought this through." Frank said.
"Frank, I’ve thought about this for years. I had even tried to talk your mother-in-law into selling this place and going to live at the cabin, like real pioneer folks. But you know Mary, she just didn’t have that pioneering spirit. She wanted her bed in her house with her shower with plenty of hot water. Even when I located that hot springs up there by the cabin I couldn’t convince her that was the same as having a bath with unlimited hot water. I’m going to go up there and just try to forget about this rat race called life. I’m just sick and tired of the way this society is goin’. You can’t turn on the television anymore without there being something about sex suggested, talked about, commented on, or alluded to. I’m just too old fashioned. In my day sex was about love and it was sacred and private and it stayed in the bedroom with married folks, not on the television. Our criminal justice system is a joke. Let the killers that drive white Broncos go free but try and take law abiding citizen's guns away. Stinkin' greenies tryin' to close down every bit of the land God made to keep us from gettin' the gold that God put there for our express enjoyment. The liberal media, commie socialists, don't even get me started about them. Something is sure way wrong with where this society is goin’ and I for one am gettin’ off the train to hell. As they used to say in my day, I’m droppin’ out. I’m headin’ for the hills where all I have to worry about is how much gold I can detect and pull out of ol’ mother earth."
"I suppose there’s no talking you out of this, I know how flippin' stubborn you are."
"Miss Sally! You watch that language of yours young lady!"
Sally laughed on the inside, thinking about what a foul mouth her dad could have when he got mad, but he got upset at her because she said "flippin." Why flippin' wasn't even a bad word; was it?
"And NO! You ain’t going to talk me out of it. Do me a favor if you would, I want to be out of here by about eight in the morning. Here’s the keys to the house and the other car. Oh, I almost forgot the signed title to the other car is in that envelope with the cashier’s check. Anyway, after I’ve left, can you pack up your mom’s clothes? Take whatever you want. You know where her good jewelry is at. Mom wanted you to have it. Maybe you can pass it on down to little Jessie when she gets older. The clothes that you pack up, just have Salvation Army, or Catholic Social Services, or whoever, come and pick that stuff up."
Sam had already packed his things and only a few mementos of Mary. After all, a mountain man had to travel fast and light. He had packed their wedding picture, their 50th anniversary picture, and one of Mary’s pillow cases that had her rosary inside. Mary always kept her rosary inside her pillow case; she said it kept away bad dreams. Sam wondered just how many Hail Mary’s, Our Father’s and Glory Be’s had been said on that string of beads over the years.
Frank and Sally didn’t even know Sam’s camper shell covered four wheel drive pick up truck was sitting in the garage completely packed and ready to go. Sam was a man about to carry out a plan. It was a plan to "drop out" of society and just spend the rest of his time where he wouldn’t be in anyone’s way.
Frank and Sally reluctantly accepted Frank’s decision, I mean what else could they do. It wasn’t as if Sam was feeble minded, or was incapable of doing what he had set out to do. Quite the contrary, all through her life, Sally marveled at the fact that her dad just seemed to love a challenge. Sally’s mom was quite a psychologist when it came to exploiting that side of Sam’s personality.
"Sam!"
"Yes dear?"
"It’s probably pretty hard to lay a ceramic floor isn’t it?"
"Well of course it is. You have to make sure the darn thing is laid out just right, then you have to make sure the spacing is correct between the tiles. Then there is cutting and nipping the tiles around corners, it’s got to be a major pain in the rear end."
"Yeah that’s what I thought. OK, I’ll call some people out of the yellow pages tomorrow and get some estimates on doing the kitchen floor."
"Whatever you say dear." Sam conceded.
Mary knew that first thing in the morning Sam would be at the home improvement store getting everything he needed to lay a new ceramic floor in the kitchen. If Sam didn’t know how to do it, he’d read about it, research it, and asked questions until he figured it out. He was not about to let some stranger in his house to lay a ceramic floor for his wife. He was always like that, no hill too tall, no mountain too steep, that was Sally’s daddy!
It was getting late so Sam walked Frank, Sally and little sleepy Jessie out to their car. A long hug and a kiss for Sally, a light loving kiss for "sleepy head", and a manly handshake for Frank. Well at least it started out that way until Frank pulled Sam into an embrace.
Frank whispered, "Sam, when you’re ready, your family will be here waiting for you."
"Ya’ I know!" Sam broke the embrace and turned quickly so Frank wouldn’t see the tears rolling down his cheeks. As he walked towards the house he said, "You kids be careful driving home now!"
When he felt he was far enough away from the car that his tears would not be detected he turned and waved goodbye, "Don’t you guys worry about me, I’ll be fine! I’ll write whenever I can get into the post office in Good Hope."
Sam watched as they drove away. Gone, just like that! They vanished into the night, just as fast as Mary had vanished from his life. Yes he and Mary had been with one another 54 years all together, but it seemed like seconds compared to the four days of hell he had gone through since her death.
Sam showered and readied himself for bed. He stood in front of the mirror and grabbed his old trusty electric beard trimmer. He turned it on. It was the same old familiar motor hum he’d heard for years. He usually kept his beard neat, short and well trimmed. Every night he'd touch up his graying beard just to make sure he looked his best. Some people might have thought that was sort of crazy to trim your beard every day, but Sam started doing a quick touch up before bed years ago when Mary commented once how much she loved to see him all neatly trimmed and freshly scrubbed.
Mary said she wasn't all that fond of facial hair anyway, but as long as Sam didn't allow himself to look scruffy, she said she could tolerate it. On some level Sam felt that Mary secretly like his rugged look, either that or she was just putting up with it, like she put up with his gold prospecting. So every night Sam with give himself a quick trim like he was about to go out on the town; he had always thought to himself, "A man’s gotta’ look his best for his woman, ‘cause you just never knew when ya’ might get lucky!"
He quickly turned the electric trimmer off, just as fast as these thoughts had flashed through his mind. He said out loud to himself, "Well, I guess I don’t need this thing anymore do I Mary?" With that he pitched the old trimmer in the small plastic trash pail by the sink. He really didn't have anyone to look good for anymore. His Mary, the only woman he ever loved, would never be there to see him neatly trimmed and freshly scrubbed again.
Sam pulled on his pajamas and went into the bedroom. He started to climb into bed, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t sleep in their bed, not without Mary. So as he had done for the past nights, he grabbed his pillow and alarm clock, pulled the blanket from the bed, and retired to the couch downstairs in the basement. He couldn’t get comfortable. His mind just wouldn’t stop racing.