For Love and Glory by Cindy Bonner

Author:Cindy Bonner [Bonner, Cindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deck Night Press

CHAPTER 16

“Compassionate Leave”

“He scared the hell out of us,” Gabe said. “Out of me anyway.” In the halo of light coming from inside the house, Gabe’s face looked lined and worn, more worn than Lange remembered. “When I came upon him lying there....”

Gabe stopped and sucked at his teeth. It was a habit he had always had, when he was thinking on something. When Lange was little, he’d tried to copy that teeth-sucking thing. Also, spitting. Back then, he had idolized Gabe. Gabe had taught him to rope a horse, throw a calf, wrestle a steer, to smoke, to cuss, and a lot of other things.

“He was a sorry sight,” Gabe went on, “I’ll tell you that for sure.”

Lange pushed his empty juice glass towards Gabe for a refill. Good old Kentucky Tavern; it sure went down smooth, especially compared to all the scotch he’d been drinking for the past year. Gabe refilled his own glass, too. A little bit of whiskey sloshed out. He licked his thumb and sopped up the spill. They were sitting on the back-porch steps. Crickets throbbed in the darkness.

“Heaved him up over Wahoo’s back,” Gabe continued. “Carried him that away to the house. Had a time of it. They sent an ambulance from Bastrop. Took him from there to Austin. And of course, Mom went with him. She stayed up at the hospital day and night. Till I finally got her a room at the Driskill so she’d rest. We’d just brought him home the day before you called from New York.” Gabe raised his glass, bumped it against Lange’s, then drained it in one gulp. Lange knocked back the contents of his glass, too.

The whiskey had already started a rosy glow. He was glad. It helped chase away the old ghosts threatening to haunt him again. Hard to see Papa all bent and withered in that wheelchair, drooling out one side of his mouth. Aunt Dellie had arranged her sewing room as a bedroom for Papa, so he could be downstairs, now. Lange had carried him in there to bed, carried him like a baby and tucked him in like one, too. He knew it galled Papa, he could feel it in the stiffness in Papa’s spine. He thought about how much Papa always hated to get sick, never trusted hospitals and doctors, said doctors were no better than horse thieves and lawyers.

Lange reached into his pocket for his cigarette case, flipped it open, took out one. He’d already filled it up with Luckies, did that at a New Jersey newsstand. They were the first thing he’d wanted when he hit American soil; second thing was a hamburger.

The cigarette case made him think of Mackie. He hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to her or even tell her he was leaving. As soon as Morse had come through with compassionate leave, Lange had hopped on the first ship that gave him a berth.

“Let me see that thing.” Gabe grabbed the cigarette case, turned it over, ran his finger along the bronzed edges.

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