SMALL SACRIFICES—Christopher Larabee
Chris Larabee sat on his front porch step, smoking his fourth cheroot. The bluish smoke swirled about his head in the cool evening breeze, creating a halo like effect.
His hazel eyes were locked on the vehicle sitting in the drive.
He had kept the requested appointment and met with Orrin Travis and the crazy old coot had offered him a job…. Hell, what would he be doing heading up some governmental task force? He'd just get buried in all the paper work and end up blowing his brains out anyway.
But the offer had intrigued him just a touch and he had taken the files and headed home. That fateful journey had crossed his path with that of one seriously injured young bounty hunter named Vin Tanner….
Now, having made up his mind to accept the offer--hell, he had already put the ball in motion by having Buck Wilmington recalled from service in the Mid East-- he knew there would be no turning back.
It would be good to see the old sky pilot buddy of his, after all the years and the miserable conditions under which they had parted ways.
He knew, with Buck's return, would come the memories of happier times. Hell, Wilmington would see to that! Times they had shared together, times they had shared with Sarah and Adam….
Sarah and Adam.
He drew in a deep breath, and released it slowly… Sarah, Adam, him and Buck…. The things they had done, the things they had seen, the trips they had made… together.
It wasn't that he didn't want to be reminded of the happy times…Lord knew he thought of his wife and child nearly every waking moment. All these past empty years, they had filled his haunted dreams each night.
But there was no way to restore those years. They were lost to him, just as surely as Sarah and Adam were. No amount of alcohol, no amount of self loathing and self blame, nothing would ever change what had happened…
All he could do now was to get on with his life as best he could. Hell, wasn't that the very thing Buck had told him time and again? How many times had Buck pointed out Sarah would never be at peace, knowing Larabee was slowly destroying himself?
Perhaps it was time to relegate his wife and son's memories to that secret part of his heart and mind where they should have been all along. That part of him that would always love them and hold them dear to his heart….
Even as he struggled on with the lonely chore of his daily living.
To that end, he sat staring at the vehicle parked next to his new big truck. Buck had had the vehicle hauled to the ranch when Chris had abruptly resigned from the military, retreating to the Colorado mountains and his alcohol. He had hated Buck for that gesture and hadn't touched the vehicle, even avoiding looking at it as much as possible.
It was a silvery green van. Sarah's van. Lordy, how she had loved the boxy shaped old thing! He had bought it for her right before Adam was born, knowing there wasn't room for a child's seat in his sporty little red two seater roadster. She had affectionately termed it her 'mommy machine.'
Sarah had chosen it for its color. She had always secretly said it was as close to his eyes as she could find…. The color his eyes were when he looked so lovingly at her. Of course she told everyone else the color accented the old rustic cedar of the homestead.
Closing his eyes, he could still see her behind the wheel. How she loved to drive the old thing, Adam in his car seat behind her, his sing along children's tapes in the player. Chris could still hear her voice laughingly raised as she sang along to 'The Farmer In The Dell,' with the windows down, her hair whipping out in the breezy slipstream.
He pushed to his feet, trying to shake the bittersweet memories, and crossed to open the side door. His sad eyed gaze immediately spotted a plastic tote box of Adam's toys stuffed up under the seat… GI Joe, toy jets, and a battered old one eyed teddy bear.
His breath caught deep in his throat, unable to pass the huge lump in his throat. He should have cleaned the van out years ago… but along with living, he had put off doing that, too.
He scrubbed at his stinging eyes as the overhead light revealed a huge dark stain in the carpet. He'd spilt his coffee one morning… and Sarah had chewed his ass out, saying she would never let him drive it again. But she always did. The same for the burn scars from Buck's cigar ashes….
Memories
The old van was full of them…. Bringing Adam home for the first time from the hospital, making love on the carpeted back floor parked in some high mountain valley, ordinary old everyday trips to the grocery, hauling Adam and his friends to day care….
Memories… all the more valued now as he realized it was one of the few things he would have left to hold of his family. Memories and this –Sarah's old van….
He looked heavenward, the moisture gathering in his eyes rolled down the side of his face, but he ignored it. It was time to let it go… It would be hard, but he knew now what he had with Sarah and his son didn't need this tangible reminder. It was in his heart, a heart which suddenly felt more alive than it had in years.
He slammed the door and trailed his hand down the side of the vehicle as he straightened his shoulders and moved for the porch. He could see the classified ad already formed in his mind:
'Will sacrifice to a good home, one old memory filled van….'
*******
SMALL SACRIFICES--Vin Tanner
The myriad twinkling stars were beginning to fade as dawn suffused the Colorado sky with delicate tinges of pink and gold, bringing a brand new day to light.
A cup of hot coffee in his hands, a Hudson Bay blanket about his shoulders to ward off the crisp chill which foretold the coming of fall, Vin Tanner sank back onto his old wooden porch swing. Sleep had eluded him and he'd escaped the suddenly oppressive confines of his cabin, spending the last few hours stretched out on the old swing, hoping to find some peace, but even here, overlooking the valley, his calm, his peace had continued to be ever elusive like some delicate butterfly which flitted just beyond his reach.
A slight frown furrowed his brow as he absently took a long swallow of his coffee, not even tasting the bitterly strong brew. He had settled here on the porch, hoping to find answers. Answers to questions he had hoped to ignore. But he had had little success and he knew those unanswered questions would continue to hound him no matter where he was.
In his own solitary fashion, he had always been happy here on this mountain, traipsing through his woods or relaxing in the secluded meadow, far away from people and civilization. Content, comfortable on his own, he had relied on no one and expected nothing from any one in return.
The solitude of his home gave him solace and a deeper sense of his own place in the world. Here, alone but for Mother Nature, he knew the only true sense of belonging in his young life. He lived in harmony with the wild creatures and found their company pleasing. They did not judge him and expected nothing from him.
But now, that sense of belonging felt false somehow. It felt incomplete, fractured in a way he could not define. It felt oddly enough like a part of him was missing, a part of him he had not acknowledged in years.
Why had he made that damn phone call?
It suddenly hit him and he dropped the now nearly empty mug, shattering it into pieces on the wooden deck, the sound frightening a herd of deer which grazed by the corner of the cabin, spooking them into a tail flagging run into the nearby trees.
Oblivious of the animals, he drew in a shuddering breath and raked his trembling fingers through his long hair, pushing stray strands from haunted azure eyes.. He shook his head from side to side, not wanting to acknowledge the strange alien feeling which welled in him.
Vin Tanner was lonely.
That realization rocked him and he pushed abruptly to his feet, his boots crushing the pieces of shattered mug beneath his feet. The long tails of the wool blanket fluttered about his slender body as he paced across the wooden deck, boot heels echoing emptily on the sturdy planks, the agitated movements lacking his usual loose limbed grace.
Lonely.
He hadn't been lonely since Jamie's death. In all the years since, he hadn't allowed anyone to get close enough to affect him. He hadn't wanted anyone close enough to hurt him like that ever again. He stopped pacing and his lean shoulders dropped as he stared at the deck. A deep shuddering sigh, bordering almost on a sob, escaped his lips, a sigh born deep in his soul.
Somehow, some way he had let another person creep into his life. Had let someone through the high thick walls he had built around himself as protection from hurt and pain. Against his better judgment, against all the vows he had sworn when Jamie died he would never ever again be hurt like that, he had foolishly let his guard down.
He had known better, yet he had been powerless to stop it. When that somber hazel eyed man had offered the hand of friendship, he had struggled to ignore it. He had fought to keep his distance, but had finally grabbed onto that extended hand like a drowning man seeking salvation.
He sighed softly. And maybe he was. A man needed a friend, someone to share the silences, someone who knew when to listen and when to talk, or to just be there when things got rough. Hell, even someone to laugh with when times were good. He hadn't had that in years. Maybe it was time.
He snuggled deeper into the blanket, pulling it up closer about his shoulders, He had lived in solitude too long now. He had ignored loneliness, had always managed to push it aside as a weakness, but now... now there was someone out there who knew him. Someone who accepted him and understood without words what he was thinking. Someone who had suffered in solitude as well, but was willing to forgo that aloneness to offer him friendship.
A small lop sided smile finally settled on his face as he looked across the meadow, the first golden rays of the morning's sun washing across his peaceful features.
The least he could do was offer his own hand, meet Christopher Larabee half way. It was such a small sacrifice to make to obtain such a priceless offering.
He stepped off the porch and out onto the dew wet grass and turned his face toward the heavens, his lop sided smile even more blinding as he realized Jamie Watson, who had made the ultimate sacrifice, would be proud.
THE END