Wild Man Creek
Page 48
She thought about snatching open the door and calling out to him, but instead she simply slid the envelope inside, opened it and looked at the contents. There was a handwritten, folded piece of paper for her and a sealed envelop upon which Jack’s name was written. Her note said,
Dear Jillian, I’m sorry to be leaving you without notice, but after giving it a lot of thought, I’ve decided to go back to San Diego. I enjoyed working with you, but I think I’ll find more opportunities in the city where I grew up. Thank you for everything and I hope you’re very successful. And if you would please give the enclosed letter to Jack, I’d appreciate it. Thank you. Denny
That’s it? she asked herself. After all we’ve done? This was all wrong, she thought. That Denny would leave her like this, knowing how much he liked the gardens and how alone she was at the moment, that was bad enough. But sneaking his letter of resignation in the predawn hours? Leaving a letter for Jack rather than talking with him? Slipping away before anyone could say goodbye?
She picked up the phone and called the bar, hoping that line would ring into the house. She supposed if no one picked up she could find Jack or Mel’s number by calling around, though it was awful early for that.
“Jack’s Bar,” a gruff voice said.
“Preacher?”
“That’s me,” he said, sounding fully awake and alert.
“It’s Jillian. Listen, something very weird just happened—”
“You all right?”
“Fine. But I was sitting in the kitchen, in the dark, waiting to see the sunrise, when Denny slipped a note in the door and took off. The note says he’s leaving and asked that I give a letter to Jack for him. It’s in a sealed envelope, Preacher. Denny is sneaking away for some reason. This makes no sense.”
“Crap,” Preacher said. “Thanks, Jillian. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”
Preacher called Jack and Jack called Jo Ellen Fitch, Denny’s landlady, while he was pulling on jeans and boots. “Jo, sorry about the early hour…”
“I’m up, Jack. I start early.”
“I need you to check and see if Denny’s around. He left a note for Jillian saying he’s leaving town.”
“Leaving town?” she echoed. “He didn’t say anything to me. Why wouldn’t he say anything to—” She stopped talking and Jack could hear her opening her door. “What in the world…? Jack? There’s an envelope in my door and there’s… There’s money in it. It’s the balance he owed for the rest of the month. He paid by the week and— And, his truck seems to be gone. You want me to read the note, Jack?”
“Never mind. That’s all I needed to know. I’ll get back to you later.” He put the phone on its base and muttered, “Son of a bitch!”
Mel sat up in bed, her hair all a mess. “What in the world is going on?”
“Denny bolted. He left notes for Jillian, Jo Fitch and one for me. Says he’s going home.”
“And where are you going?” she asked.
“Possibly all the way to San Diego. Can you get the kids together without my help before going to the clinic?”
“Sounds like I’d better be able to,” Mel said. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet,” he said. He leaned down, gave her a kiss and said, “We don’t do things like this. We don’t leave notes!”
Denny figured it was all for the best, that he just head back to a life he understood and felt comfortable in. He knew people in San Diego. Maybe not a ton of people, but he still had a few friends there. And it was true—there probably were more opportunities for him, jobwise. He hated to leave Jillian’s farm, though. He’d begun to have visions of what it might become—like one of the hottest, most productive organic farms in northern California. Just listening to her talk about it day in, day out, he thought that a couple of years from now it would be incredible. Fantastic. He was sorry he’d miss it.
He trundled along down highway 36 toward 101, which would take him south. He’d drive as far as possible today, maybe all the way. He turned up the volume on the iPod and let rock music fill the cab of his truck, but the next thing he knew there were headlights from the rear blinding him, a truck horn blasting and some lunatic following too close. “Jesus,” he muttered, looking for a wide space in the road to get to one side so this idiot could pass him.
That happened pretty quick and Denny pulled over on a widened shoulder and the truck behind him shot past. But he stopped ahead of Denny and backed up, blocking him in. Mystery over, it was Jack’s truck. And Jack jumped out and stomped back to Denny’s truck.
“Oh, brother,” Denny muttered.
Jack stood in the middle of the road. He stared at Denny, hands on his hips. And Denny thought, Might as well get this over with. He got out of his truck. “I explained the best I could,” Denny said.
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Jack said. “Heard there was a letter. I haven’t seen it.”
“Then why are you chasing me down?”
Jack took a step toward him. “Because I want you to look me in the eye and tell me where I went wrong with you.”
“Huh?” Denny said, confused.
“Six months before you laid that father business on me, I was your friend. I kind of saw myself as a mentor, at least until you covered me with your body to keep me from being killed by falling liquor bottles during an earth-quake—that made me wonder who was mentoring who. I don’t remember ever putting any stipulations on the friendship, either. Far as I knew, we thought a lot alike, acted a lot alike. I thought it was the Corps. Then I thought it was just one of those things. Then I thought I was probably your father and that would explain it. Whatever it was, it was working just fine. Just a couple of guys. To tell the truth, I thought you had a similar connection with Preacher, with Jill, with Mel.”
“Look, Jack, it wasn’t your fault, okay?”
“I know it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Denny. It just worked out the details were not the same as we thought.”
“It was someone’s fault, just not ours! My mom! Maybe she had all the right reasons and maybe it was because she was sick, maybe it was because she was worried about me, maybe it was—”
“Maybe it was because we were close, me and your mom,” Jack interrupted. “Maybe she hoped I’d look out for you, if the worst happened. She wasn’t my girlfriend—I wasn’t her boyfriend. We weren’t lovers. We were better than the kind of lovers I had back then, when I was twenty and really couldn’t think like a man. We were good friends. I thought I told you—I knew you were there! Inside her! I said I’d do anything to help her get out of that bad situation! I’d give her money, get her a safe place to live, and because I was twenty and big and built and ready, I would’a been so happy to go over to her place and beat the living shit outta that guy who wasn’t good to her, but—” He stopped suddenly. “That wasn’t the kind of thing I’d offer to do for a stranger, for someone who meant nothing to me. Just look me in the eye and tell my why that isn’t enough for you. Why you’d take off in the dark of night.”
“I came up here to find my father,” Denny said. “I thought you were my father. I didn’t mean to mislead you, Jack. I was so sure….”
“So? What’s that got to do with anything? So there were a few details to sort out. Not your fault you didn’t have all the information.”
“Yeah, but I was looking for a place to belong,” he said. “I was looking for a connection. Everything back home seemed like it faded away. After my mom was gone, after breaking up with my girl so she wouldn’t worry about me in Afghanistan, after a lot of my friends moved on… With a father somewhere, there was a connection somewhere.” He shook his head. “I don’t really belong here, Jack. Any more than I belong anywhere.”
Jack frowned. “You feeling sorry for yourself?” he asked.
“What if I am?” Denny answered defensively.
Jack laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I thought I knew you better than that.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I guess I could adopt you. It’d be awkward, you being well over twenty-one, but if you need some kind of legal—”
“Shit,” Denny said, “don’t you get it? I was looking for the real thing, not some pity thing!”
“Then grow up!” Jack stormed. “Friendship with me has always been real. No one has ever doubted my word before this! No one has ever needed a signature or a blood test or a sworn statement from me! No one has ever doubted my commitment! You’d let down a whole town just because you can’t seem to trust me to stick by you?”
“I’m not letting down a town….”
“A goodly part of one. Running out on Jillian at one of the toughest times in her life, that’s not real neighborly. We kind of got used to you coming around, hanging out with the family. My dad feels like he got himself a grown grandson—I doubt the way he feels about you is likely to change when the details come clear. Preacher—he treat you like you don’t belong? We put you on a little old lady’s couch to keep her safe at night—we don’t do that with someone we don’t have a lot of confidence in. Kind of looks like everyone but you felt you belonged.”
“It was artificial, in a way,” Denny said.
“Hey, it was from the heart, son. The best I had to offer, anyway. But if that’s not what you’re looking for, it’s all I got. You’ll do what you have to do. Maybe you can feel a stronger connection somewhere else.”
“I’m sorry if I let you down.”
“You did, son. I like the way things are between us. Liked the way it was before I thought I was your father, after I realized I wasn’t. All the same to me.”
“It’s not enough,” Denny said.
“It was enough for me.”
“I’m sorry. I was afraid of what would happen if I made a mistake. Guess this is what happens.”
Jack put out his hand. “Nothing ever changed as far as I was concerned. I wish you good luck. I’d like it if you kept in touch. That connection might take a lot longer to leave me than it does you.”
Denny took the hand. “Sure,” he said. “Of course I’ll be in touch.”
“Drive carefully.”
“Jack, there’s that letter I left, trying to explain…”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll keep it. But I’m not reading it.”
“Why?”
“Because we looked each other in the eyes and talked. Sometimes it’s what you feel, what you say to each other that weighs more than some sworn statement. This is more real to me. Goodbye, son. Take care.”
Jack checked in with the principle characters—Mel, Preacher, Jillian, Jo Fitch. He explained he’d caught up with Denny, tried to convince him to stay but failed. He also said Denny was doing what he wanted to do and that he was traveling safely.
Jillian delivered the sealed letter addressed to him later that morning. “Thanks,” he said. “Need help looking around for someone to work in the gardens?”
“I’ll be all right for now. I might have to hire someone in a week or two to clear another big plot so I can mulch it, get it ready for spring. I could wait till spring, but I like tenderized soil.”
“You might be able to talk one of the Bristols or Andersons into that, if that’s all you need. They’ll be plowing under some fields anyway. Let me know.”
“Thanks. Otherwise, there’s just harvesting to finish. I’ll be pulling and picking everything as the last of it continues to ripen. I can handle it. Luke’s helper, Art, might want to come over and work. He’s capable if I show him what to do. I’ll talk to Luke about that.”
Dear Jillian, I’m sorry to be leaving you without notice, but after giving it a lot of thought, I’ve decided to go back to San Diego. I enjoyed working with you, but I think I’ll find more opportunities in the city where I grew up. Thank you for everything and I hope you’re very successful. And if you would please give the enclosed letter to Jack, I’d appreciate it. Thank you. Denny
That’s it? she asked herself. After all we’ve done? This was all wrong, she thought. That Denny would leave her like this, knowing how much he liked the gardens and how alone she was at the moment, that was bad enough. But sneaking his letter of resignation in the predawn hours? Leaving a letter for Jack rather than talking with him? Slipping away before anyone could say goodbye?
She picked up the phone and called the bar, hoping that line would ring into the house. She supposed if no one picked up she could find Jack or Mel’s number by calling around, though it was awful early for that.
“Jack’s Bar,” a gruff voice said.
“Preacher?”
“That’s me,” he said, sounding fully awake and alert.
“It’s Jillian. Listen, something very weird just happened—”
“You all right?”
“Fine. But I was sitting in the kitchen, in the dark, waiting to see the sunrise, when Denny slipped a note in the door and took off. The note says he’s leaving and asked that I give a letter to Jack for him. It’s in a sealed envelope, Preacher. Denny is sneaking away for some reason. This makes no sense.”
“Crap,” Preacher said. “Thanks, Jillian. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”
Preacher called Jack and Jack called Jo Ellen Fitch, Denny’s landlady, while he was pulling on jeans and boots. “Jo, sorry about the early hour…”
“I’m up, Jack. I start early.”
“I need you to check and see if Denny’s around. He left a note for Jillian saying he’s leaving town.”
“Leaving town?” she echoed. “He didn’t say anything to me. Why wouldn’t he say anything to—” She stopped talking and Jack could hear her opening her door. “What in the world…? Jack? There’s an envelope in my door and there’s… There’s money in it. It’s the balance he owed for the rest of the month. He paid by the week and— And, his truck seems to be gone. You want me to read the note, Jack?”
“Never mind. That’s all I needed to know. I’ll get back to you later.” He put the phone on its base and muttered, “Son of a bitch!”
Mel sat up in bed, her hair all a mess. “What in the world is going on?”
“Denny bolted. He left notes for Jillian, Jo Fitch and one for me. Says he’s going home.”
“And where are you going?” she asked.
“Possibly all the way to San Diego. Can you get the kids together without my help before going to the clinic?”
“Sounds like I’d better be able to,” Mel said. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet,” he said. He leaned down, gave her a kiss and said, “We don’t do things like this. We don’t leave notes!”
Denny figured it was all for the best, that he just head back to a life he understood and felt comfortable in. He knew people in San Diego. Maybe not a ton of people, but he still had a few friends there. And it was true—there probably were more opportunities for him, jobwise. He hated to leave Jillian’s farm, though. He’d begun to have visions of what it might become—like one of the hottest, most productive organic farms in northern California. Just listening to her talk about it day in, day out, he thought that a couple of years from now it would be incredible. Fantastic. He was sorry he’d miss it.
He trundled along down highway 36 toward 101, which would take him south. He’d drive as far as possible today, maybe all the way. He turned up the volume on the iPod and let rock music fill the cab of his truck, but the next thing he knew there were headlights from the rear blinding him, a truck horn blasting and some lunatic following too close. “Jesus,” he muttered, looking for a wide space in the road to get to one side so this idiot could pass him.
That happened pretty quick and Denny pulled over on a widened shoulder and the truck behind him shot past. But he stopped ahead of Denny and backed up, blocking him in. Mystery over, it was Jack’s truck. And Jack jumped out and stomped back to Denny’s truck.
“Oh, brother,” Denny muttered.
Jack stood in the middle of the road. He stared at Denny, hands on his hips. And Denny thought, Might as well get this over with. He got out of his truck. “I explained the best I could,” Denny said.
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Jack said. “Heard there was a letter. I haven’t seen it.”
“Then why are you chasing me down?”
Jack took a step toward him. “Because I want you to look me in the eye and tell me where I went wrong with you.”
“Huh?” Denny said, confused.
“Six months before you laid that father business on me, I was your friend. I kind of saw myself as a mentor, at least until you covered me with your body to keep me from being killed by falling liquor bottles during an earth-quake—that made me wonder who was mentoring who. I don’t remember ever putting any stipulations on the friendship, either. Far as I knew, we thought a lot alike, acted a lot alike. I thought it was the Corps. Then I thought it was just one of those things. Then I thought I was probably your father and that would explain it. Whatever it was, it was working just fine. Just a couple of guys. To tell the truth, I thought you had a similar connection with Preacher, with Jill, with Mel.”
“Look, Jack, it wasn’t your fault, okay?”
“I know it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Denny. It just worked out the details were not the same as we thought.”
“It was someone’s fault, just not ours! My mom! Maybe she had all the right reasons and maybe it was because she was sick, maybe it was because she was worried about me, maybe it was—”
“Maybe it was because we were close, me and your mom,” Jack interrupted. “Maybe she hoped I’d look out for you, if the worst happened. She wasn’t my girlfriend—I wasn’t her boyfriend. We weren’t lovers. We were better than the kind of lovers I had back then, when I was twenty and really couldn’t think like a man. We were good friends. I thought I told you—I knew you were there! Inside her! I said I’d do anything to help her get out of that bad situation! I’d give her money, get her a safe place to live, and because I was twenty and big and built and ready, I would’a been so happy to go over to her place and beat the living shit outta that guy who wasn’t good to her, but—” He stopped suddenly. “That wasn’t the kind of thing I’d offer to do for a stranger, for someone who meant nothing to me. Just look me in the eye and tell my why that isn’t enough for you. Why you’d take off in the dark of night.”
“I came up here to find my father,” Denny said. “I thought you were my father. I didn’t mean to mislead you, Jack. I was so sure….”
“So? What’s that got to do with anything? So there were a few details to sort out. Not your fault you didn’t have all the information.”
“Yeah, but I was looking for a place to belong,” he said. “I was looking for a connection. Everything back home seemed like it faded away. After my mom was gone, after breaking up with my girl so she wouldn’t worry about me in Afghanistan, after a lot of my friends moved on… With a father somewhere, there was a connection somewhere.” He shook his head. “I don’t really belong here, Jack. Any more than I belong anywhere.”
Jack frowned. “You feeling sorry for yourself?” he asked.
“What if I am?” Denny answered defensively.
Jack laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I thought I knew you better than that.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I guess I could adopt you. It’d be awkward, you being well over twenty-one, but if you need some kind of legal—”
“Shit,” Denny said, “don’t you get it? I was looking for the real thing, not some pity thing!”
“Then grow up!” Jack stormed. “Friendship with me has always been real. No one has ever doubted my word before this! No one has ever needed a signature or a blood test or a sworn statement from me! No one has ever doubted my commitment! You’d let down a whole town just because you can’t seem to trust me to stick by you?”
“I’m not letting down a town….”
“A goodly part of one. Running out on Jillian at one of the toughest times in her life, that’s not real neighborly. We kind of got used to you coming around, hanging out with the family. My dad feels like he got himself a grown grandson—I doubt the way he feels about you is likely to change when the details come clear. Preacher—he treat you like you don’t belong? We put you on a little old lady’s couch to keep her safe at night—we don’t do that with someone we don’t have a lot of confidence in. Kind of looks like everyone but you felt you belonged.”
“It was artificial, in a way,” Denny said.
“Hey, it was from the heart, son. The best I had to offer, anyway. But if that’s not what you’re looking for, it’s all I got. You’ll do what you have to do. Maybe you can feel a stronger connection somewhere else.”
“I’m sorry if I let you down.”
“You did, son. I like the way things are between us. Liked the way it was before I thought I was your father, after I realized I wasn’t. All the same to me.”
“It’s not enough,” Denny said.
“It was enough for me.”
“I’m sorry. I was afraid of what would happen if I made a mistake. Guess this is what happens.”
Jack put out his hand. “Nothing ever changed as far as I was concerned. I wish you good luck. I’d like it if you kept in touch. That connection might take a lot longer to leave me than it does you.”
Denny took the hand. “Sure,” he said. “Of course I’ll be in touch.”
“Drive carefully.”
“Jack, there’s that letter I left, trying to explain…”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll keep it. But I’m not reading it.”
“Why?”
“Because we looked each other in the eyes and talked. Sometimes it’s what you feel, what you say to each other that weighs more than some sworn statement. This is more real to me. Goodbye, son. Take care.”
Jack checked in with the principle characters—Mel, Preacher, Jillian, Jo Fitch. He explained he’d caught up with Denny, tried to convince him to stay but failed. He also said Denny was doing what he wanted to do and that he was traveling safely.
Jillian delivered the sealed letter addressed to him later that morning. “Thanks,” he said. “Need help looking around for someone to work in the gardens?”
“I’ll be all right for now. I might have to hire someone in a week or two to clear another big plot so I can mulch it, get it ready for spring. I could wait till spring, but I like tenderized soil.”
“You might be able to talk one of the Bristols or Andersons into that, if that’s all you need. They’ll be plowing under some fields anyway. Let me know.”
“Thanks. Otherwise, there’s just harvesting to finish. I’ll be pulling and picking everything as the last of it continues to ripen. I can handle it. Luke’s helper, Art, might want to come over and work. He’s capable if I show him what to do. I’ll talk to Luke about that.”
