Ray Gorham - 77 Days in September

Kyle nodded, and soon there was a heaping bowl of oatmeal sitting in front of him. “So was that you I saw running towards me when I went down?” he asked Elijah.

Elijah nodded. “Stevie and I had just walked one of the ladies home from church. She was scared to be out alone; things have gotten a little rough, as you might have noticed.”

“Yeah, I got that impression,” said Kyle, gently probing a swollen eye.

“Anyway, we were heading home when I heard some noises and saw the three of them picking on you. Tried to get there before they did too much damage, but I’ve slowed down in my old age.”

“Did they hurt you?” asked Kyle.

“No. One of them threw a punch, but the old marine training came in handy. A couple of those guys already had a fair bit of blood on them. Looked like you had done some damage before you went down.”

“Maybe a little, but not enough,” Kyle said, then explained what had happened before Elijah’s arrival.

Elijah and his kids listened intently to Kyle’s story. Stevie was quite excited by the description of the fight. “Do you fight a lot?” Stevie asked.

“No.” Kyle said, shaking his head stiffly. “Not since I was in high school, and then just a couple of times. Do you know what happened to my cart?”

“It’s around the side of the building,” said Stevie. “My dad had me pull it home.”

“I figured it was something important,” said Elijah. “After your friends left, you kept mumbling about it. Couldn’t understand what you were saying for the most part, but I could see your cart down the street, and you kept going on about it, so I figured it meant something to you.”

“Yeah, it does. I’m heading to Montana, and I need it to haul my things.”

Elijah whistled. “Montana’s a long way away,” he said. “I guess that cart would be helpful.”

“We’ve been to Montana,” said Diana. “We went the summer before Mom died. She wanted to see Yellowstone Park. I don’t remember it too well, but we’ve got lots of pictures.”

“It’s a pretty part of the country,” said Kyle. “A lot more mountains than around here.”

Elijah burst out laughing. “That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. Around here we call any hill over twenty feet a mountain. It sure was pretty country up there, but I’m guessing you’re not headed that way for the scenery.”

“No,” said Kyle. “My family’s in Missoula, Deer Creek, actually.”

Elijah nodded. “I figured that was it. I’m guessing there are a lot of displaced people right now, not knowing what to do. Where’d you start out?”

Kyle told them about his experience on the airplane, about traveling with Ed, and then leaving from San Angelo.

“Sorry things went bad for you here,” Elijah said when Kyle finished. “Lubbock’s a good town with good people. Don’t let those idiots you met yesterday make you think otherwise. I was born here and came back after I left the military. I expect I’ll probably die and be buried here as well.”

“Well, my first impression of Lubbock wasn’t so good, but it’s gone up considerably since then.”

“Good job, Daddy,” Diana teased her father, patting him on the back. “You should join the Chamber of Commerce, maybe make a commercial for the city.”

“See what I get to put up with?” Elijah said, giving his daughter a look. “She’s just like her mother. Makes fun of everything I do. Seriously though, you should be careful. People are scared and desperate and are doing some crazy things. We were all used to jumping in our cars and running to the store to fill up our refrigerators. All that went away in an instant, and we weren’t prepared for it.”

“You seem to be doing alright,” said Kyle. “How are you getting by?”

“I was in the military,” said Elijah. “I visited some pretty destitute countries and experienced some miserable things. I promised myself I’d be ready for anything if I made it home. We’ll be good for a few more weeks, but we’ve already talked about heading out of town to an uncle’s place. He’s got a farm east of here.”

“Why are you waiting?”

“I’ve got a congregation that I need to get situated before I go,” said Elijah, matter-of-factly. “The preacher can’t just take off and abandon his flock. What would the Lord think?”

“Hadn’t thought of that,” said Kyle. “How is your flock doing?”

“Scared and hungry,” answered Elijah. “At least the ones that I know about. I’ve got a lot of older people, and they’re not managing so well. Two of them have already passed away. Did one funeral on Saturday, and I’ve got one tomorrow. Probably another one will be gone in a few days, so it’s been a tough week.” Elijah’s voice broke as he spoke, and he wiped at a tear with his hand. “Excuse me for getting emotional,” he said. “But it’s kind of like losing family.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Kyle asked. “I owe you my life. There must be some way I can repay you.”

Elijah shook his head. “No. I appreciate the offer, but you’ve got more important things to be doing, like getting on your way back to your family. Speaking of which, you need to eat and get cleaned up. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over. I don’t think there’s any part of me that doesn’t hurt. How do I look?”

“Real bad,” Stevie said. “Like you got run over.”

Diana smacked her little brother on the head. “Shut up, Stevie. That’s not nice,” she whispered to him loudly.

“But it’s true,” he retorted, rubbing his head and looking to his dad to scold his sister. Elijah just shrugged and gave him a “you deserved it” look.

Kyle swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal. “Don’t worry Stevie. I’m sure you’re right. I can tell by the lumps on my face that I look pretty bad.”

When he finished his food, Kyle excused himself and headed to the bathroom to clean up, armed with a bucket of water and a couple of washcloths that Diana had supplied him with.

Kyle closed the bathroom door and turned to the mirror. Staring back at him in the dim light coming through a small window over the toilet was a puffy-eyed, broken-down, old man. It took him a minute to catch his breath, and then he started to cry. Kyle dropped down onto the toilet and let the tears run. I’ve only been on the road five days, he thought, and I’m already a mess. How am I ever going to make it?

He heard a tapping on the door, and Diana called to him, “Are you alright in there?”

Kyle shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Yeah,” he called back, “I’m fine, just getting cleaned up.”

Kyle sat on the toilet pondering his situation for some time before standing in front of the mirror again. He dipped a washcloth in the bucket, wrung it out, and began to wipe away the grime. Starting with his forehead, he scrubbed the dirt out of his hairline and gingerly worked his way down his face. Dried blood stuck in wounds and creases and places that Diana hadn’t wiped the night before. He worked tenderly around his eyes, both of which were swollen and various shades of purple and blue. The left eye was worse then the right and hurt intensely as he cleaned it.

Kyle took his shirt off and washed his neck and chest. Both arms were missing patches of skin that had been rubbed off on the street, his right shoulder having gotten the worst of it. He washed it tenderly, picking out small pieces of gravel as he went.

Another knock sounded at the door. “Dad said to bring you some clean water,” Diana’s muffled voice came through the door.

Kyle opened the door and took the bucket from her.

“Here’s our first aid kit. I thought you might need it as well,” she added, handing him a shoebox-sized plastic container. “It’s kind of messy, but there are probably things in it you could use.”