Welcome Home
Written by: Starlite
Laying there he only knew pain - incessant, consuming and relentless agony. His
every breath, his every movement only added to his misery. From afar he overheard
disjointed familiar voices
“I’ve given him something to help him rest easy”, the longtime
friend stated.
“Rest easy, not hardly.” If he had the energy, he would have engaged
the good old doctor in a vigorous debate on what the term rest should mean.
“How, how much …” the person now closest to him in life tried
to ask, but the words faltered in coming. Once more, he would have liked to engage
them in conversation, if only to dispel any fear or worry, but his energy waned.
“Not much longer”, the trusted physician and good friend comforted.
“Not much longer.”
There was just no way to get comfortable, no way of easing the never ending suffering
that seemed to consume his very being. He sighed as deeply as his constricted
lungs would allow, and tried once more to sleep. Suddenly, he became vaguely aware
of a buzzing about him, “had some annoying pest entered his room“?
The buzzing seemed to intensify and consumed his every thought. “Wasn’t
anyone else aware“?
He wanted to draw the attention of the others in the room, make them aware of
the buzzing in some vain hope that they’d remove the insufferable annoyance
from his presence. He wanted to open his eyes, even though he’d have to
endure the painfully sharp, bright electric light. He resented electricity now;
he sorely missed the old kerosene lamps of his younger years. Their soft, golden
light was much more soothing to his tired old eyes. He struggled with his eyelids,
trying to get them to open, and then realized the buzzing sound was rapidly fading.
He didn’t need to open his eyes. It didn’t matter anymore. He could
rest now, “Ah, sleep. Perchance to dream” … and then bright
light flooded over him. He raised his right hand to shield his eyes and realized
that he was looking directly into the sun - radiant, glorious, warm. It felt so
good after being shut up in his sick room for so long.
Lowering his hand and his face, he glanced about at his surroundings and found
himself in very familiar territory. The meadow was a rich green and the grass
long and lush, the lake to his left sparkled like a huge blue topaz as small ripples
lapped lazily upon the rocky shore and the pine trees off to his right were tall
and strong reaching up to touch the bluest of clear almost cloudless skies. He
instinctively drew in a deep breath and found the air to be fresh and crisp, filled
with the cleanliness of mountain snow with just a hint of pine and wildflowers
as the air wafted through the tall trees. Drawing a deep refreshing breath was
something he’d not been able to do for a long time, and he’d forgotten
how good it really felt.
“Feast your eyes on heaven itself”! He smiled inwardly at the memory.
How long ago was that moment when he heard those words pronounced? “Too
long, far too long”, his memory responded.
Suddenly his whole world started to shift, right at the seat of his pants. He
heard an annoyed snort followed by a demanding whinny. Looking slightly downward
he was rewarded by the sight of his faithful mount, the horse that was one with
him for so many years. “But how could this be”? This magnificent steed
was long since gone, many, many years before. Reaching down, he patted the long
strong neck and was rewarded with another more contented nicker from the horse
of his younger years.
Seeing the hand as it touched the mane, gave him a strange detached feeling. “Is
this my hand”? It seemed to be, but at the same time it wasn’t. His
hands were now frail with age, weaken by time and illness. These were the hands
of a strong, virile younger man. Ones that were used to strenuous labor, yet still
nimble and agile.
He was vaguely aware that everything about him seemed so real, so genuine. From
the touch of the sleek hair of his horse, to the cool clean mountain breeze, to
the warmth of the sun upon his face and even to the stiff hard leather saddle
that he rested upon. “Well, why not”? He mused, this was his dream
and it can be as real as he wanted it to be.
With a smirk upon his face, that turned into a sly grin and then eventually to
a full face smile before allowing the words to escape his lips, “YEE HAH!”
He let out the reins to his mount and with a gentle touch of his heels; he gave
the horse his head. First in a trot, that quickly turned into a cantor, then a
full gallop and finally a run. The power of this majestic animal as it displayed
its’ amazing strength filled him with the awe and joy of being so alive
once more.
As he passed familiar landmarks, the boulder here, the well-known path to the
road, and then the heavily trodden road itself, he knew where his memory was taking
him. But it had been so long; “too long” a lament began to build in
his heart. “No matter”, he dismissed the old regret, as long as this
dream would take him there again, then that’s all that mattered now.
Nearing the ranch house, the horse began to slow his gait, as though he was not
being ridden at all. The slower pace of a quick walk allowed the passenger a chance
to take in all of his surroundings, there was the familiar barn, the sturdy railings
of the corral and the well built home, his home.
Suddenly he became aware that the horse had stopped, and was looking back at him
and nodding his head in a gesture that was vaguely reminiscence of the expression
“get off”. Smiling, he gratefully complied with his old animal friend’s
request.
He stood frozen as he stared intently at the building that stood so resolutely
before him. Every log, every detail of the place from the rough-framed windows,
to the well worn porch and even to the strong brass knocker on the door was just
as he remembered them. The vision before him was totally unlike the more recent
daguerreotype that graced the desk in his study.
Stepping forward, he felt the soft Nevada dirt slightly crunch beneath his booted
foot. Several feet from the porch he noticed the side door open, allowing a small
Chinese man to exit from the kitchen. The silk pajama clothing he wore was the
most intense robin egg color he’d ever seen and the black corded closings
matched the intensity of the long black braid the man wore, both of which were
in stark contrast to the lightness of the blue. He saw the wide smile upon the
old trusted family friend and cook’s face, and he believed he could actually
see the man’s eyes twinkle in delight before the Asian cocked his head to
one side, then bowed in welcoming.
He was just beginning to return the gesture, when he recognized the familiar clanking
of the heavy front door’s latch being opened. His gaze shifted to observe
three very familiar forms emerging, three men that had been the core of his life
and his being from the earliest years of his memory, even to the time that had
long since passed for them.
The one to the left had the same youth and vitality that he’d always seemed
to possess. His hair was curly, but not overly long and he wore the same short-waisted
green jacket that he always favored. He could hear the infectious giggle as it
filled the air before the young man announced with a humorous taunt, “It’s
about time, ya Yankee granite head”!
This in turn received a slightly raised eyebrow from the older white-gray haired
man standing in the middle, before he gently cuffed his youngest upon the shoulder.
To the older man’s other shoulder stood a much larger bear of a man, with
gentle sky blue eyes and thinning blond hair with his hands stuffed deeply into
his pants pockets, who shyly scuffed one boot in the dirt before quietly saying
“Howdy Adam”.
Then before he knew it, he felt his body being drawn into a warm strong embrace,
an embrace that he would’ve withdrawn from in his younger days, but now
he welcomed wholeheartedly. His father’s strong arms encircled him tightly
and held him close to his own chest before speaking the comforting and loving
words he so longed to hear, “Welcome home, son. Welcome home.”
RETURN TO LIBRARY