Ash and Autumn

Chapter 11 from The Reason Book2 – Tribulations.

An early morning autumn chill drifts and with it a fresh batch of discolored leaves. It also delivers new scents and aromas to drive Skye crazy. Watching him zigzag, side to side, trying to get his nose as far up in the air as possible to home in on a scent. He’s snorting and grumbling. He’s seeing through a tunnel. His feet kicking up the freshly fallen leaves. Seeing him reacting this way takes me back a little more than a month ago to my final confrontation with the Colonel. I’m on my knees, looking up into my own barrel and the Colonel’s toothy grin. Then I’m back sitting on the curb, covered in sweat watching children play in the autumn sun. Shaking. “Holy shit!” “What the hell was that?” Skye’s sitting next to me, softly whining. He pushes his head against me, momentarily, reassuringly, “I’m ok, buddy.” I reassure him and myself. With a lie, as I pet his head. He knows the truth; he can smell it. His nose goes up again, growling always my protector and turns to see a man about my age, maybe younger approaching.

“Skye,” I warn him. He trots over to the man. And starts getting excited, whining and jumping.

The man, smiles, “He remembers me but you…I’m not so sure you do.” Leaning on his cane while moving steadily closer, something in his walk. He looks down at my face.

“You do…look familiar. OH my, another flash back of a man on route 40, his daughter in the back seat crying, while he was being gang beat. Her eyes made my humanity reemerge just in time.

His hand is on my shoulder, “Sir!” gently shaking me with Skye, front paws posted on my thighs.

“Oh man, another one.” Rubbing my eyes.

“Another what?” He asks

“Nothing.” “Holy cow though. Standing, “you’re the gentleman I helped on 40 last month.” Shaking his hand vigorously.

“The one and only!”

“I see you’re getting around okay.” Looking at him up and down.

Laughing, “yeah, if it wasn’t for your intervening.” “I’m getting along and better every day.

“Good, good.” “Your daughter?” “How is she?

“Brianna”. “Great, I just wanted to thank you before I lost you again.” “I saw you the other day here and kept an eye out for you again and here you are!” “I’m so indebted to you for… everything.” The man’s eyes brimming, leaning heavily on his cane.

“Sir.”

“Clayton Rhodes, please call me Clay”

“Clay, it was my pleasure helping out.” “You can call me Bret, Bret Gordon and this is Skye.”

“Oh yes, I remember them, taking chunks of meat off of those hoodlums. Thanks Skye,” rubbing his ear and getting a bath from his tongue. “But where’s your partner, the one with the pointed ears?” Clay inquires, curious, concerned.

“Ah, we…we lost him, a few days after helping you.” “He saved my life.” My hand absently caressing his collar hanging from my belt.

“Aw Bret, Skye,” Petting him, “I’m so sorry.” “He’s in a much better place than being here, I tell ya.”

“I believe you’re right.”

“What was his name, so I can remember him and Skye.”

“Ash.” “His name was Ash.”

“Ash and Skye, got it.” “I’ll never forget. By the way, I’d love for you to come sit and talk with us one afternoon, maybe today? and meet Brianna. If it’s not too much to ask.”

“Absolutely, Clay, it would be a welcome distraction from all the new weirdness. I’d appreciate that.”

“Ok, I’ll see you later today.”

“Who’re we meeting again?” Jen asks as she’s squeezing my hand tight.”

“Ah, someone I ran into on route 40 on my way west.”

“Oooh, cryptic.” “Intriguing.” “I like that,” she jokingly teases me.

“I gave my word I’d come by later.” “We’re meeting in the community playground.”

“Perfect, babe. I’m excited!” Smiling up into my face. “You know I’m proud of you no matter what.” As they approach the playground, a young girl in a beautiful dress runs up to Bret, engulfing him burying her face into his clothing, crying. Skye’s excited as well jumping and trying to get some of that attention. Bret returns her embrace. Clay and his wife stand a short distance away, wiping their eyes. Then, quiet and muffled “Thank you for saving my daddy, Mr. Bret,” her face still buried in Bret’s clothes. Jen standing to the side observing, quietly crying, hand to her mouth and the other wrapped around her waist.

Kneeling, I pull away enough to look Brianna in her eyes, “You’re welcome.” “Afterall every little girl needs her daddy.”

“Standing back, wiping her eyes now, “you have a daughter?”

“Yes, I do but she’s 32 and stubborn like her mom here.”

“Hey,” Jen interjects. As Brianna giggles, forgetting her tears.

Asking, “Do I call you “Bri” or Brianna?”

“My friends call me “Bri”.

“Sounds good Bri.”

“You have such a beautiful name,” Jen adds.

“Do you want to see my mom and dad?” She grabs my hand and starts dragging me deeper into the park. “Mommy, Daddy, this is Bret and, um, “leaning closer and whispering loudly, “What’s you name again?”

Jen whispers back, “Jen”

“This is Jen, uh, are you two married?

Laughing “Yes.” “We are.” “we’re so glad to be here.” “It’s nice to be doing something, “normal” amidst all this.”

“Yes, it is.” Clay’s wife, grabs my hands and begins shaking them, “Thank you!” She then embraces me warmly. “Thank you.

“My pleasure ma’am.

Moments later Clay and I are sitting at a picnic table having a drink, whiskey, dry. Burns, but it’s smooth. Jen and Sarah are at the table too, deep in conversation.

“You know Bret, those men, it happened so fast. Then the initial recovery was rough, just recently graduated to a cane.” “Thanks to Greg and his resources!” “Who would imagine a militia would have a full-time physical therapy staff?

“Community.” “More than a militia”.

“I stand corrected.” “Sarah heard from someone, about EAFA, the community and their medical resources. So here we are.”

“Speaking of resources, those episodes you’re having? PTS.” he says quieting his voice. “Flash backs, headaches, sweating, shaking…just to name a few.”

I don’t answer, I just take another sip of my whiskey and look at Clay over the rim of my glass.

“I’m still dealing with it…the beating.” “Talking about it seems to help me so, maybe talk to someone who understands what you went through?”

“Clay thanks, but I’m okay.” “I have to be.”

“I hear ya, if you ever need anything…” he lets it hang in the air unspoken.

“I have to ask, out of everyone that passed us by why’d you stop.?”

“I almost didn’t but bullies piss me off.

“Why didn’t you stay?

“My reason for not sticking around is talking to your wife.

“Ah!” “Cheers!”

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“But not everything is so clear in Free America… not when the U.N. and W.H.O. show up uninvited. That’s another story entirely.”