DESERT SON PART 14 WESTWARD

[The Urbane Spaceman]

She returned, you know. She did this many times, but not all that often.

The oldest one stopped in the middle of her ghost story. She said, “Did you hear that?”


I said, “NO! Not again. Don’t do this to the little ones. Not again. C’mon, jeez.”


Her face, lit by the oil lamp, flickered as the door behind me opened. I felt my skin crawl. Never sit with your back to the door if you are the protector.


The wind blew in from the early summer thunderstorm and the door clanged against the woodstove.


Kimmer leaned back onto her hands on the wooden floor and her eyes grew wide as she looked up over my head. I knew that I was about to die. I grabbed the two little girls and rolled across the floor with them in my arms to scramble them away form imminent danger. Their heads knocked against each other and the floor and they wailed in fright.


The rain gusted in with the burst of wind and the hot glass chimney of the oil lamp burst apart across the floor form the cold spray. The tiny tongue of blue flame danced about on the wick and then flew away with the wind.


Escape.


Her sharp voice hollered. She said, “Damn it kids! Help me get my bags in! It’s raining out!”


She was back. Again.



WESTWARD



In the morning, we ate eggs. Those are quite marvelous, you know. Sometimes, it is rare to eat them, unless you know where the nests are. You have to climb for them. Or look in the reeds. Duck yolks have the deepest yellow color, like the skin of a really good orange. Huge, as well. Gooey.


On this morning, the sun peeked his eye through the tall oak trees on the east end of the property, and the walls inside the little house were lit with their dancing shadows. How long had it been since we’d eaten unstolen eggs?

And bacon. Gawdamn, there was bacon.


I walked into the kitchen and saw my mom cooking us up a big meal. It was not a dream after all. The ghost in the night was cooking us breakfast.


She turned to me and said, “Hey there, Will. Care for some coffee?”


Well, heck yes. It made me feel all big and grown up. I was going to drink coffee like she did. Hot, black, and strong.


It tasted like when Kimmer burned the muskrat, but I sipped it anyway. Mom tossed in some sunflower seeds just to ruin the scrambled eggs, but I ate it anyway. I sipped my strong coffee and ate them crunchy scrambled eggs and felt like a man for some reason.


The little ones slunk into the kitchen and mom picked them up and whirled them about and kissed them on their hollow cheeks. Mom said, “Will. Go wake Kimmer.”


I said OK.


I opened the door, yelled at Kimmer and then closed it real quick. The door rattled from the boot that hit it form the other side. Kimmer never liked to be awakened. Most times, you had to creep around in the morning hours until she woke up before noon.

I opened the door and said, “mom’s got bacon cooking.” Then I closed it again.

The second boot answered with a smile. I nodded back to Mom. I said, “She sounds happy about that.”

From the other side of the door, I heard, “Fuck off.”




In the darkening part of the day, Mom said, “I have this idea. I found this place. It’s called California. It is a golden state, you know. There are all of these really cool people there. How would you like to take a trip to California?”



Well, hell yes. It was summertime, and school was not to open for another month, so why not have an adventure? We could have some fun exploring. The little ones hopped about like little birds and danced and sang, and so it was a done deal.


Except for Kimmer. She was in a grouchy mood. She would stay and take care of the little home in the woods.


In the morning, I had our bags packed, and the little ones had their favorite dolls and such, and we were ready to go.

Mom said, “Why aren’t you bringing more?”

I shrugged. I said, “Heck, no need to pack the house. School begins in a month.”


She leaned her head back and laughed really loud. After she settled down a bit, she wipe her tears and said, “Will. We are moving there. We are going to live in California form now on.”


What.


The.


Fuck?



.

[oettinger]

Oh my.

Hey kids, ever been to Kyrgyzstan?