SADDLEBAGS, Trunks, and Tombs

Chapter 14: Never Look Back

The Watcher:

     What a day!!  I met Ken, his present flame and a friend of hers at the waterfront.  Portland is known for its music festivals.  I used to frequent them but it had been years. 

     “I was surprised when you said you would come.  When Millicent said her friend was in town I couldn’t think of anyone but you to fix her up with for the day.  Hey, don’t give me that look!”  We were on our way back to our spot at the concert with four brews in hand.  “I’ve got to tell you, I was surprised myself.  I’m actually glad you called.  I never thought I had a type, but if I did, Samantha would be it!  Did you see those eyes?  Emeralds!” 

      “ I will never admit to seeing anything.  I’ve got my hands full already!”  The girls were laughing as we took our seats and handed over their beer.  Samantha was nice.  She knew who I was but didn’t get all starry eyed or clingy on me.  She could hold a conversation and actually had things to talk about.  That was new to me.  I wasn’t used to women being themselves.   It was refreshing.

     When the concert was over I offered to give Samantha a ride home, as Ken and Millicent looked as if they needed to find a room, quick.  She lived near the Washington Square Mall in south Beaverton, the opposite direction from me but I looked forward to the ride and the conversation.

The Walker:

     She had said yes!!  I remember moving quickly after that moment.  We knew that for the time being our marriage would have to be a secret.  It was a beautiful end of summer day.  The weather was mild and promised a beautiful autumn, the kind of day I knew she would love.  

     I had arranged for an understanding clergy man to meet us at the eastern end of the property where it still remained the forest it had always been.  Martha showed up, in her servant’s uniform, and I placed a wreath of wild flowers in her brilliant hair.  We were married in the forest, with the leaves just beginning to fall.  

     Excuse me for saying, but had Marty’s mother not passed away, there would have been no way I could have made her my bride without drawing the wrath of my father.  Back then, there was no way for a young girl to get married without her parent’s permission, but as Marty had no living parents, we were able to proclaim our love under the veil of secrecy. 

     As I had kissed my bride, I handed her the box, with the horses on the cover and her ring inside, the ring she would only be able to wear in private.  Under the canopy of the eastern forest I gave her my name and my promise that one day, soon, I would give her the wedding and the life she deserved.  I would make it so that Mrs. Jackson Winchester, could live her life in the open and not in the shadows as a servant. 

     As Martha headed back to the manor to resume her duties, I held the wreath of wild flowers in my hand and looked forward to the night we would share, the night that would complete our transition into one.

The Watcher:

     When I arrived home that evening it seemed as if the window was waiting for me.  I had had a great day out but even I was ready to get back to the story.  It was almost like reading a really good book.  Sometimes you have to put it down to continue living but you always look forward to picking it up and getting back into the story.  

     Funny thing was, I had never had much of a life to live before but even with new things and new people entering my world nothing seemed to change with my writing with the exception that I was starting to appreciate story telling again and not just doing it because it was what I did.  I didn’t even realize that I was losing an appreciation for the art.  Do you lose the love after time has gone by?  Can familiarity truly breed contempt? 

     There was really no way for me to tell how much time had passed between the Walker getting from one place to the next.  But somehow I knew that he was passing between different times and different places and I was only privy to what the window allowed me to see.  

     Had his awakening happened now in 2007 or was I looking at something that happened in the past and being drawn in?  The window, the story, would have to wait for a moment.  There was no way I was going to let the story intrude into my life and take it over.  I popped a handful of grapes into my mouth and continued to work on the article that had been number two on my list.

     Just as I had stopped writing for the day, the window began to swirl and I was again alert to its call.  The Walker, that’s what I call him, seemed to be in the desert again but not the desert where he started out.  As I was brought into the scene, I noticed he was holding a shoe, a soccer cleat it seemed.  All I could think was, please, let this one end better than the last.

Never Look Back

     The leathered hand fingered the dirty, white shoelace in the black, high top soccer cleat.  Holding the shoe, he appeared to look at it thoughtfully, maybe even hopefully, before dropping it into the waiting saddlebags.

     Rory Daniels had spent his entire life in a small town.  Born before there was even a hospital in the area, which now boasted of one that was about a year old now, he had been born in the city, about a hundred miles away, and brought back to his family home when he was days old.  He had spent every day of his life here since.  He had just turned eighteen days before the cold began to creep in.  The cold, though, didn’t keep him or the other children from coming out to the fields.  This was their only outlet, the only thing that gave them a small sense of normalcy.

     Rory would have been considered an All American athlete, would have been except for one small thing, Vernon, Nevada didn’t breed All Americans.  This was a place that didn’t even exist to anyone who lived outside of it and for those who got out, it was not remembered, intentionally.  

     Vernon had started out as a hiding place and a dumping ground.  It was a place where people dumped things they needed to disappear; old cars, murder weapons, bodies.  It was also a place to disappear founded by people who had needed to disappear.  This town was the perfect place to lose what needed to be lost and hide what or who chose to be hidden.  Maybe we were wrong.  Maybe All Americans could be made in Vernon, they just couldn’t be found.

     Rory was the product of one of the most infamous diamond thieve teams in the world.  A team who had for some reason ended up in the desert, hiding, and as far as they knew, they had done very well in remaining hidden.  He had heard them on occasion refer to themselves as the new “Bonnie and Clyde”.  To him, they were just mom and dad, both being greatly loved by their only child.  He had never wanted for anything and because of it, had never thought to question why.

      Rory’s parents weren’t the only people with children or children on the way that had come to settle in Vernon.  As time went on, more and more people came with more and more children.  The adults of the settlement knew what awaited them and the children they had moved here.  With this knowledge, they made sure that the children here felt well-loved and normal.  There was even a school here, finally, which housed all the grades, from kindergarten to the twelfth grade.  It hadn’t always been that way, but grades were added on as needed until it had grown.  Life was good here, if nothing else, the adults of the town had made certain of that.

     Rory’s father loved three things in his life: his wife, his son and soccer.  He had started kicking the ball around with Rory at the tender age of three and been the one to start the small towns soccer little league.  Rory’s father had been pleased at how many more children had come and how important the game had become to the town.  Soccer was the one thing that just about everyone in town was into.

     David could not believe it.  Here he was, eighty miles from Las Vegas and his car had broken down.  “What a cliché’!” he almost hollered out.  Driving through the middle of nowhere and the car breaks down.  Of course he would quickly remember having passed an old and all but hidden sign on the highway.  The sign had said, ’Vernon 5 miles.  He supposed that had been about three miles ago, hoped anyway.  

     “Probably a one horse town, missing the horse.”  He would soon realize how close and how far that very thought was from the truth.  He grabbed his black duffle bag from the back seat, locked the Toyota Prius, he had just bought, and started walking. 

     The walk had been a lot shorter than he had thought.  “Welcome to Vernon”, the sign read, with a quick look around, David was not feeling quite welcomed.  The town looked more like a very large mobile home park.  It was old, but by no means trashy.  There seemed to be some sense of pride to the place even though it lacked paved roads.  

     He walked up to the service station, on the right side of the main road, which was attached to a small country diner.  “Mayberry, as I live and breathe.  If Opie Taylor comes running out of that diner, I am so out of here.”  He smirked but his mood was foul.  

     After riding out with the tow truck driver to have his car towed into the town garage, he was actually grateful to have some time on his hands.  Just as he had suspected, it would take a couple of days to get his car up and running, one of the joys of owning a hybrid car and breaking down in the boonies.  It looked like he would be spending two, glorious, fun filled days in down town Vernon.

     The diner had a few rooms above it for out of town visitors.  You could tell that this wasn’t a town that got a lot of overnighters.  It almost seemed as if they preferred it that way.  After getting a room, David decided to grab a bite to eat down in the diner.  

    Looking out the large, mildly dusty window, he noticed that the diner and the service station, though definitely a part of town, seemed to sit outside and away from town, as did the small grocery market across the road.  He would later remember thinking that had been quite odd and as he would have that thought, driving out of town, he would then know the reason why it was so. 

     Just as David was giving his drink order, a crowd of teenagers were making their way through the diner door.  “Hey Rory!  Is your last going to be your best?  Do you really think you can top your records tonight?”  David turned toward the noise, not really interested, but it beat watching the tumbleweeds roll by.  In the center of the crowd stood a young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen, athletic build, sandy light brown hair with what looked like natural blond streaks, holding a well-used soccer ball in his hands. 

     Rory smiled as the crowd around him chattered and made predictions and bets about tonight’s game, his last game in the league.  They didn’t have any doubts about what team would win, it was more by how many goals and how many of them would fall by Rory’s feet.  

     No one had ever been able to stop Rory from making a goal.  He had never been outside of Vernon, but if he had, his stats would not have changed.  It was as if he had accidentally fallen from a heavenly soccer team and landed smack in the middle of nowhere, Nevada.  

     Not only did he get the ball to the net, it was a beautiful thing to watch.  There was grace but power to his kick and the way the ball sailed into the net would even catch the eye of the goalie, probably why they would miss it, too busy watching the show.  Tonight would be Rory’s last game in the league.  He would graduate from the little school in two weeks and would officially be unable to compete.  

     Rory and ten others would be the first to ever graduate from Desert Rain School.  They had been the first children to play in the soccer league and tonight they would be the first to leave it.  Rory had already decided to stay on and coach.  What else was there to do?  He had his job at the grocery and had really never considered leaving the town he had grown up in.  It just never dawned on him that leaving was an option.   

     “What’s that all about?” David asked a pretty, raven haired, young waitress, Deanne, her name tag read.  She finished refilling his coffee.  “Oh, tonight is the big game, the championship game.  That guy in the middle, Rory, he’s the town star.  He’s been unstoppable for the past three years.”  You could see Deanne was somewhat taken with the boy, the way her skin seemed to flush as she spoke of him.  

     David’s interest began to mount.  A soccer game?  “Where’s the game being held?”  After getting the information about the game, David went up to his room.  This would hopefully be more stimulating than flipping through the three, static filled channels on the old black and white in his musty room.

     At a glance, you would have never known that this seemingly poor town housed this many residents.  There wasn’t much to say about the homes, but to David’s amazement, the soccer fields were actually housed in a nice sized, modern stadium!  The stadium wasn’t where you could see it from the main highway, but was nestled just behind a small hill that sat at the back, eastern edge of town.  

     As he made his way into the stands, he was well aware of the suspicious eyes that followed him, burning into his back.  He didn’t have much time to worry about the stares as the crowd came to life.  The opposing teams had made their way onto the field.  The roar of the crowd was deafening!

     This would be his last and this would be his best.  He had to go out, but as everyone knew, Rory Daniels would go out in a blaze of glory!  Rory’s blood began to pump through his veins.

     Victor looked into the sky as he prepared to do what no other had been able to do.  He was one of the best goalies in the league and was prepared to take star position as he was two years younger than Rory and had two years left in the league.  Everyone had come out to see Rory go out in style, but tonight they would see a new star emerge.  Tonight they would see Victor stop the unstoppable.  He rubbed his hands on his navy blue and black shorts and waited.  Tonight, Rory would send that ball sailing toward him and he would send it shooting back.

     The game began.  This final game was more fierce than anyone had anticipated it would be.  Rory’s team mates hammered the defenders, trying to get the ball to him.  The defending team hammered right back and made the first and only goal of the first half.  

     Even though the ‘star’ hadn’t shown him anything, David was actually having a good time.  He was on his second beer and greasy hot link when the crowd jumped out of their seats.  The second half had started and out of nowhere Rory skimmed his way through the players on the field, got possession of the ball and was making his way towards the defenders goal.  

     There were three obstacles in his way from center field, two defenders and Victor.  Rory saw no one but Victor.  Victor saw no one but Rory.  Instantly Rory saw nothing but the net and Victor saw nothing but the ball.  

     David, like the crowd, was on his feet and saw it all.  It would be hours before he digested and accepted what he saw that day.  There was a hush in the stadium that had not been there before.  Everything seemed to stop.  Rory smiled as his right leg swung back.  Victor’s eyes darkened as his body tensed to receive the blast.  

    Then it happened!  Rory’s foot connected with the ball and nothing but lightening flew forward.  You could actually feel the electricity in the air!  Nothing David had ever seen would have prepared him for this moment!  It would be the first goal attempt, of the night, that Victor would miss and even he would later thank God for it.  The lightning, that had once been the ball, exploded through the net and regained its previous, round form for only one moment in time before it would explode into pieces at the far end of the field.  Even though the game would continue, it was over at that very moment.  There was silence in the stadium, no movement at all, and then…pandemonium!!  Rory’s team would win the game 6-2.  Rory left the league a legend.

     Two days later, Rory heard a knock at the front door.  “I’ve got it!” Rory heard his father call out.  Rory was in his room, preparing to go to work.  He heard voices, then he thought he heard quieter voices.  No matter.  He grabbed his jacket and walked through the short hallway, to the front room, and headed towards the door.  

     No words had been spoken, but something caused Rory to stop.  His mother was sitting on the couch, a stunned look frozen on her face.  His father was leaning on the mantle of their propane burning fireplace, face of stone.  He had never seen his parents like this before, ever.  

     In his fathers over sized chair sat a man with light brown skin and dark hair.  He looked Hispanic, but slightly different somehow.  He saw a small bead of sweat on his fathers and the stranger’s brows.  The tension in the room was an unwelcome guest and Rory was sure there had been conversation that he would never be privy to.  

     The triple wide mobile home where he had spent his life, seemed to be closing in around him.  The stranger stood and walked towards him, his out stretched hand leading the way.  “Hello Rory, my name is David Ruiz.”  Rory reached forward and shook the stranger’s hand.  Lightening seemed to fill the small room.  Rory barely heard his father’s voice, but what he did hear, his body acted on immediately.  “When you get a chance to go, go and never look back, promise me son, never look back.”

     Coach Ruiz had just finished his pre-game speech.  Rory ran out of the locker room with his new team mates, onto the brightly lit field.  He turned around slowly, head bent back to the sky, then was hastened toward center field.  His last thought, before he would make his way down the field, was how he had made good on his promise.  

     Six months ago he had hastily grabbed what he could and jumped into the Prius sitting outside of his childhood home, never having looked back.  As he and the coach had begun to drive off, he didn’t realize, until much later, that he had dropped one of his soccer cleats.