Wild Cat And The Marine

Jackson sat on the edge of the straight-backed wooden chair, reluctant to lean back and relax. Sitting in the Captain’s presence made him uneasy, even if it had been his suggestion—order. “Thank you, Captain.”

“You’re a tough man to locate, Gray. I’ve had the duty sergeant at the barracks up half the night waiting for you to come in.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” His reply was automatic, his thoughts in turmoil, barely aware of what he said.

Richards growled his reply. “No need to be. You’re a good-looking pup. You’re entitled to spend your nights screwing around if you choose to. It’s your time.”

“Sir, I wasn’t screw— I wasn’t out messing around.”

The Captain looked disbelieving.

Jackson’s body wanted to twitch under the man’s metal gaze. He didn’t have to explain. Let the Captain think what he wanted to. In fairness, though, Richards had reason to think as he did and his commanding officer didn’t have to let him wait for Cassidy’s call in his office.

Jackson was suddenly relieved that his explanation for being gone all night was legitimate, even if it had started as a bored impulse. “Sir, I’m sure you’ve heard about the forest fires north of Richmond?”

Richards nodded. “It’s been very dry.”

“I spent the night with volunteers digging a fire line to protect Cottage Grove, one of the suburbs lying in the fire’s path.”

Captain Richards was obviously skeptical. “Very good of you, Gray. Why didn’t you say so?”

Jackson barely managed to keep his voice even. “As you said, Captain. It was my free time.” If one of the guys hadn’t suggested the trip… If he hadn’t jumped at the chance to leave the red-brick barracks, he might have spent the evening at the NCO club and had the kind of night the captain suspected.

“Yes, but—” The phone rang. Richards picked up the receiver. “Captain Richards here. Yes, Mrs. Alexander, he’s with me now…. Of course… Not at all.” He handed the receiver to Jackson, then stood. “Take your time, Sergeant. I’m going to walk over to Colonel Blackstone’s office.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The captain hesitated a moment. “I hope things work out okay.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The door closed with a quiet click. Jackson looked at the receiver in his hand as if it were a grenade with the pin already pulled. If he didn’t hear the words, then it wouldn’t be true, at least for him. As long as he avoided raising the phone to his ear, he could put off finding out his father had died in the night while he was off helping strangers.

A sudden ache wrapped around his heart. He couldn’t avoid the truth that easily. He put the phone to his ear. “I’m here.”

“Jackson?”

His sister’s familiar voice triggered a strong wave of homesickness, a longing for her sweet pixie face and, unexpectedly, a nostalgic picture of the farm he hated. “Yeah, Cass. How is he?”

“Jackson, where’ve you been? I woke up your captain three times last night. This morning, I mean.”

“Hell, Cass, what does it matter where I was?” He clutched the receiver so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Sorry. Just tell me. Is Pop dead?”

“Not yet… I mean, no! No. He’s doing okay, the doctor said.”

“Okay? What does that mean, exactly? How badly is he hurt? What happened?” He stood and paced as far from the desk as the phone cord allowed.

“He’s pretty bad, Jackson. He’s banged up something terrible, but the doctor said he’d live, unless the internal bleeding started again.”

“Cass, what happened to him?”

“He bought a new bull from Bertha Gillis. A big, black mean bastard! Pop went out to the barn to feed him and opened his stall door to check something. We aren’t sure what. Anyway, the bull knocked him down and stomped on him. Good thing he’d been dehorned. If he hadn’t been, Pop would be dead.”

“Oh, damn! Was he alone?”

“Buddy Sutherland was with him. You remember Buddy, don’t you?”

He thought hard for a moment, then the name joined a face. “Yeah. Little guy. Works odd jobs, or used to. Kinda drifts from one farm to the next.”

“He’s been helping Pop since January. Anyway, he managed to distract the bull and get him off Pop, then Blue drove the bull into another stall. Would you believe the same dog that let Mom’s calico cat run him out of the house could take on a young bull that way? Thank goodness he was there! Then Buddy slammed the door shut and called for help.”

“You said ‘banged up.’ What do you mean?”

“Three ribs are broken. His shoulder is dislocated. Doctor Lind said his kidneys were bruised and a piece of his liver broke off. His knee. Other stuff, too. Can you come home?”

His brain couldn’t take it all in. The image of his tall, work-hardened father lying in a hospital bed hit him hard. Pop could die. “Oh, Lord.”

“Can you come?”

Her question didn’t make sense. “Come home? Cass, I can’t. You know that.”

“Because of the Marines? Or do you mean that blowup you two had when you left home? For crying out loud, Jackson, that’s ancient history! Pop needs you, now.”

An awful ache in his chest made breathing difficult. “Not me. He wouldn’t want me there.”

“Jackson, he might be dying.”

“He wouldn’t want me, even then.” Jackson’s tightened fist threatened to crush the phone.

“You don’t know that.”

“Has he asked for me?” He threw the challenge out, not knowing if he wanted to hear the answer.

A reluctant silence filled the space before she spoke. “I’ve only talked to him a little bit. He’s pretty foggy with the painkillers and all. I know he wants to see you, Jackson. You’re still his son and he’s still your father.”

Bitterness prodded the old pain. “I’ll never step foot in Engerville again. You may not remember, Cass, but I do. He told me if I left, I wouldn’t be welcome back. If he wanted me, maybe… Aw, hell, it’s ridiculous to discuss it. I’m not coming home, Cass. I can’t.”

“Even if Pop is dying? You still won’t forgive him?”

The accusation hurt. It wasn’t true. Couldn’t be. His answer grated against the bitter memories. “You have that backward. He’ll never forgive me…and I’m not sure I want him to, so drop it. I’m sorry, Cass. I can’t come home.”

“No matter how much he needs you?”

The anger in her voice shamed him. He and Cass had always been close. His hurt forced an answer he didn’t want to give, yet couldn’t hold back. “Yeah. No matter how much he needs me.”

“In that case, I’d better hang up. They’re going to do some X rays and I want to be there to see what they find. I’m sorry for you, Jackson. Sorry you can’t forgive and forget, but our father is the one I’m worried about right now.”

“You’ll call me if anything changes?” There was no reply. She’d already hung up. Jackson loosened his white-fisted grip on the phone and replaced the receiver.