Читать книгу A Land Divided - Jack Wills - Страница 9

Chapter 3

Communication from Home

Shawn sat lengthwise on his bunk in brig cell 3 with his back against the wall and his head propped up against a pillow. The paper he was holding was a copy of several emails sent from his mother over the past year. Lieutenant Commander Stevens had handed Bryant’s Marine escort an envelope with a bundle of papers inside to give to Shawn when he reached his cell.

Besides the printed emails from his mother was a note written by Lieutenant Commander Stevens. Bryant read over the note before he looked at his emails.

Petty Officer Shawn Bryant,

I received a copy of an email through Captain Ericson that was sent by your mother about three weeks ago. She said that you had not communicated in over nine months.

Because of your arrest and the information from your mother, I had one of my staff do a search of your email. That’s when I found her emails.

I understand that you have been on several missions in the past few months and that you might hesitate to explain why you are now in the brig, but she is obviously worried. I expect you to let her know that you have not been seriously injured and maybe respond to other aspects of her email. In her email to Captain Ericson, she did say that there had been some important changes that may have an impact on you. By the way, why haven’t you used the internet to Skype or something?

Since you are not allowed a computer in the brig, I decided to make these copies. Depending on the disposition of your case, you can respond yourself later, or I can have someone take a message and send it for you.

Let me know what you plan to do.

Lieutenant Commander Carl Stevens

Shawn recalled that he had offered to Skype a couple of times, but his mother had not yet purchased a computer. She would have to go to the local library to have a computer and have face-to-face contact with Shawn. This made it difficult to have spontaneous contact between missions. What he knew was that he did not like writing, and that was the biggest reason he had not responded. The other reasons were more complicated.

He was having some difficulty with what to write in response to his mother’s correspondence. What do I say, that I’ve been put in prison for beating up a fellow SEAL? I can’t imagine that making her feel any better than not responding.

His thoughts were a jumble. His mind moved from his past to his future and then back to the present. None of it looked good to him, but everything except his future was done. He had learned to focus on the present and the immediate future, and none of that was in his control at this time. From what he could see of his long-term future, it would not be so good either. His thoughts moved back to the emails.

Shawn noticed that the emails were dated. He reflected on how organized his mother was. Everything had its place and time. It seemed ironic to him because his stepfather was just the reverse. He depended on his wife for so much but seemed to resent it at the same time. The arguments between Shawn’s mother and stepfather were legendary to him and Ellie. He swallowed hard as he thought about his sister. He remembered that before her death, when their parents started to argue, he and his sister would head outdoors, unless it was late at night. If the arguments started after he went to bed, Shawn would hide in his room with a pillow pulled tightly over his head. After Ellie’s death, he recalled being frightened and angry whenever his mother and Hank started arguing. It almost always led to objects and threats being thrown at each other. This was especially true when Hank was drunk.

Shawn shook his head to rid his mind of these visions and to bring his focus back to the emails. He resisted the urge to just read the last email randomly and began to arrange the emails according to dates. There were seven. The first email was written nine months ago. He felt a mild sense of guilt over his indifference to his mother’s communication. He justified this with the thought that he was involved too deeply in combat situations to respond. But that was not the only reason. He also felt a sense of abandonment around his court process and enlistment in the Navy.

Hank had complained bitterly when Shawn’s mother had attended his court hearings. After sentencing, his stepfather refused to allow Shawn back into the home. He spent his last days in Oregon at his uncle’s house, and even there he felt ostracized. Often the only contact he had from his Uncle Jeff and Aunt Sally was around dinner. His cousins, Stephen and Sam, had some contact with him, but it seemed stiff. He was glad when he finally had to head to Portland to be shipped to San Diego Naval Training Center.

As Shawn read the first email, he noted his mother’s attempt to seem normal. She made no mention of the severe arguments with his stepfather and even seemed chatty and casual in her comments. She did mention that she had a doctor appointment but did not say what it was for. The second email was about the same, but she made no mention of Hank. The email was mostly focused on the ranch and the difficulty of keeping everything going.

The third email was about the same except that she said she had met Susie Metcalf, Shawn’s high school girlfriend, at the local grocery store. She said that the conversation was “about what’s going on around here” but added that Susie had inquired about Shawn. Toward the end of the email, she stated that Susie acknowledged “going out with” a guy named Barry Whiteside, a local attorney. She said, “Susie seems okay, but I can tell she misses you.”

Shawn rested the email copy on his lap. His mind turned to the last few days before his departure for the Navy. He had dated Susie for almost a year, and they had become intimate after about a month. It was the senior year for both, and they expected to be together after graduation. The death of his sister made Shawn less available both with time and emotionally. Initially, Susie was understanding and attempted to be supportive of Shawn, but slowly she became frustrated and began to seek more time with him. It was then that the fight between Shawn and his stepfather happened. Once Shawn moved to his uncle’s home and did not have the ability to drive, Susie saw even less of him. After the court process, Shawn was focused on his enlistment into the Navy, and they did not have much time to say goodbye.

Shawn reflected on the last meeting, Susie was wearing tight jeans with designer emblems on the back pockets. In his mind’s eye, he saw her blonde-tinted brown hair hung down over a white blouse with the collar open to the third button. He felt a twinge of loss. Her brown eyes, oval face, and small nose were punctuated with a serious frown, and their conversation was brief. Her body stiffened when he held her, but she eventually melted into him and sobbed.

Shawn felt confused. His mind was almost completely on his travel to his active duty station in San Diego. He had rarely been out of Harney County. The upcoming trip was both exciting and frightening. But the warmth of Susie’s body and her tears focused his body on her. The desire to stroke her body was almost overwhelming, but he held back. She pulled back and looked at him through her tears. Her mascara was streaking down from her eyes. Shawn touched her cheek and pushed her tears to the side, streaking her mascara more.

“Do you have to go?” Susie complained. “I mean, I know you do, but I can’t stand it. It’s all wrong.”

She stopped talking as the tears increased. She turned and retrieved a tissue from her purse. She dabbed at her cheeks and looked again at Shawn.

“I’m sorry, Susie,” Shawn said softly. “I wish it was different, but I didn’t have much of a choice.”

There was a long pause, then, “I know.”

Susie looked at him again. The tears were gone and her eye contact with it.

She pulled farther back and said, “I wish you the best. I don’t know when I will see you again. I will try to wait for you.” She raised her head and stared into his eyes. “If you want me to.”

“I can’t ask you to wait. I want you to, but I don’t really know what my future will be. I don’t know when I can come back. I don’t know anything, except I will miss you.”

Susie softly blew her nose and took a deep breath. She forced a small smile and said, “I will miss you too. I hope things go well, and I will expect an email from you as soon as you get settled in San Diego”

Shawn recalled that they had quickly said goodbye and gone their separate ways, promising to email each other. He had watched her walk away and wondered if he would ever be with her again. He recalled how their emails were irregular in the beginning and slowly dwindled to nothing.

Finally, Susie had said in an email, “You don’t seem interested anymore. I’m done trying. Maybe we can meet up when you get back here.”

Despite Shawn’s feeble protests, or perhaps because of them, Susie held firm, and their emails had stopped.

Shawn’s mind returned to the cell. Wow, look where I am now. What would Susie think of me? A criminal again, he thought.

He visualized her walking away and thought that she was better off without him. He put the emails aside, stood, and walked to the small window with a heavy metal grid over it. He stared out at the compound grounds, focusing on nothing. He ran his hand over his hair and pursed his lips.

He thought, How the hell did I get here? This sucks! I have to get out of here—but how?

He drew a deep breath again and returned to his bed. Shawn gritted his teeth and reminded himself that he was a SEAL and that he had faced tougher situations, even life-threatening ones. This was not one of those times, but he needed to do whatever he could to change his circumstances. In that moment, he had decided to be as cooperative as possible and hope for the best. He returned to the emails from his mother.

It was the fourth email that caught him up short. It started out simply enough, recounting the daily activities on the ranch and stating that the chores had become too difficult for Hank to keep up with. Hank was only fifty-three years old, but the alcohol use had left him weak and at times confused. Linda said that his uncle Jeff and his sons were doing most of the bucking of hay bales and the feeding of the cattle. This was all work that Shawn would be doing if he had been home. Instead, he was sitting in a Navy brig, awaiting sentencing.

Shawn rubbed his short-cut hair vigorously and thought, I have to watch myself. I could get really down. I need to stay up. Visions swirled, and his mind tossed with thoughts of self-recrimination.

Shawn continued to read. There was a break in the writing. Then the writing began again.

It’s been a few days since I started this email, and it’s been crazy. Shawn, I don’t really know how to tell you this, so I’ll just go ahead and say it. Hank was in an accident last night. I tried to stop him from leaving, but you know how he is. He was drunk, of course. I hesitated to call the police because he had done it before and came back home okay. He didn’t come home this time. I called my brother, and he called the police. They found him down by the river. He had gone off the road. It was awful! He is in the hospital now with severe injuries. He is unconscious. I feel so alone. I have my brother, but he hates Hank now. He thinks I should have gotten out a long time ago. Oh well, I guess you don’t really care.

I know you hated Hank in the end. He was awful to you, and I know you have a hard time understanding. Oh, son, it has been so hard, but I don’t know how to live without your stepfather. He wasn’t the same after Ellie died. He was a pretty nice guy before that. He blamed you, and he shouldn’t have. It was after he started drinking that things got really bad, but you know that.

I have to get back to the hospital. So I will stop now. I will send this letter so you know what’s going on.

Love,

Mom

Shawn stared at the email and reread parts of it. He paused to think about his sister and the changes her death wrought. His face became blank, and his lips began to quiver. His gray-blue eyes became vague and misty as the tears hung on his eyelids. He had no awareness of his tears at first, but finally he swept his arm across his face.

If only I had seen the deer! His mind traced the details of the accident, and he let out a moan as he remembered the anguish of calling Ellie’s name and receiving no reply. He shook his head and set the email aside. He reminded himself to stay present. Then he remembered that his present was not so good either.

Shawn held the fifth email, dated June 15, 2015, in his hand, feeling afraid to look at it. He wondered what he would find. Part of him didn’t care if Hank died. But he worried about his mother. How would she react? Her life had been painful and even dangerous over the past two years, but she had been so focused on her husband that she really had no life of her own.

He started to read.

Dear Shawn,

Hank died last week. I have been too busy and too tired to write before now. It was expected, but it has been really hard just the same. It has been so awful the past couple of years that I feel some relief. I think we all knew it would end this way, but I kept trying. I guess he is at peace now. He didn’t believe in God pretty much since Ellie died. At first, he just questioned God, but as he got deeper into the bottle, he dismissed the idea of the existence of an all-knowing, all-powerful, all-loving being. He called it “hogwash.” He used to say I was stupid for believing it and weak for going to church. I don’t know, but I feel a need to believe. I even think Hank will end up in heaven.

Anyway, everybody has been kind. I have received a lot of notes from people I haven’t seen for months, even years. Susie wrote me a letter. She said to say hi, but she didn’t ask too many questions about you. Uncle Jeff, Aunt Sally, and your cousins have been really helpful. I don’t know how I could carry on without them. Since our ranches are close, it hasn’t been too hard for them to work the herd and keep up the fences. Our ranch is bigger than theirs, and we are up against the BLM land for about a mile of our property. We have lost some of our cattle up in Diggers Creek. I guess two of them slipped off the ridge up there. It’s just a loss we can’t afford. I wish you could help out, but it’s too much for just one person anyway. I’m grateful for my brother’s family.

Your uncle Jeff says I will have to make a bid to the BLM to keep our cattle up in the hills behind the ranch. He says he will help me fill out the forms. We really don’t have too much competition, he says. I’m a little worried about the cost, but I think it’s the best plan.

I sometimes wonder if I should just go ahead and sell the ranch. It’s really too much. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I hope you are doing okay. It’s very hard to not know what’s going on with your life.

Love,

Mom

Shawn felt tired. The email drained him. He recalled the times living on the ranch and how it seemed like a part of him. Remembering those times, he felt a hollow place growing somewhere in him. He leaned back on his pillow and let his left hand slip off the side of his bed. He closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind. It didn’t work. He stayed in bed for a while. Finally, his eyes popped open, and he stared unseeing at the ceiling. Pushing himself up, he got out of bed. Shawn began to jump up and down, jumping jacks. He continued to push his body. He moved into martial art katas and Krav Maga moves, rapid punches from his waist, pivoting and kicking an imaginary foe. He dropped and swept the floor with his right leg extended. He flipped onto his stomach and immediately began to do push-ups. Fifteen turned into fifty, and fifty into two hundred. After 230 push-ups, he collapsed onto the floor and gasped.

Shawn lay panting for a few minutes. He soon realized that his thoughts were not going away despite his physical exertions. He slowly got up and returned to his bunk. Shuffling the pages, he returned them to their dated order. He picked out the sixth email. The date was nearly two months after the last email.

Dear Shawn,

I’m sorry it has been so long since I wrote, but then again, you haven’t written for months. It’s really hard not knowing what is going on with you. I am a little afraid of what I might find out, but I think I will try to get a hold of your commanding officer. At least I can get some kind of response.

It has been hard here. That seems like what I always say, but it’s true. Christmas is only a few weeks away. I hate that I don’t really care, but I don’t.

I have been dealing with the details of the ranch and other legal matters associated with Hank’s death. Things are pretty much taken care of. As much as I can do, anyway. Now it’s waiting. Waiting for the government to decide if we will get the rights to the BLM land behind our property. Waiting for insurance to pay up. It’s interesting that Hank stayed up with his payments on the insurance in his condition. Once the decision is made, I should get $300,000. That will help a lot. The ranch is profitable, but the management of it is too much for me. It might be better next year. My brother is running things. He talks to me about some of the stuff, but I am not a businessperson. I always took care of the house and the people I love. Now I don’t have as much to do with the way things are. Your aunt Sally takes care of her family as if she was herding sheep. She even takes care of me somewhat.

I have been doing some reading and thinking. I have also been taking photos. Remember that digital camera that Hank gave me for my fiftieth? It’s a Rebel made by Canon. I enjoy taking it out to the hills out back of the house. I have been trying to photograph sunsets. They look okay, but I have a lot to learn. I have only one lens. It’s a 75 to 300. Those are millimeters. Anyway, my photos don’t look much like those in the ranching magazines, but I enjoy it. I feel like I can relax for the first time in three years. It’s great to be out in the hills at dusk, but I get a little nervous by myself. Jeff always tells me to look out for mountain lions and other scary critters. I take one of the guns your father had when he was alive. It’s just a pistol, but it makes me feel safer. It’s called a Glock, and I know how to load it. I even shot it a few times. I don’t think I could hit a moving object, but maybe I could scare it.

I am also going through things here. Things that belonged to Hank and even things that belonged to your father. I had forgotten that he had guns from his trip to Africa. While I was in the attic, I noticed them wrapped in blankets. They were in some sort of gun bag too. I didn’t pull them out because I really don’t know much about them, but they must be powerful. I can’t imagine killing an elephant. Or even a lion, unless it was about to eat me. Oh well, he liked big-game hunting up until the Africa trip. He seemed changed after that. I think he regretted killing the elephant. I decided to leave these for you to look at. I know your father would like you to have them.

Shawn did not really know his father. His mother had usually referred to him as “your father,” but his name was Kenneth. She had kept some photographs, and Shawn remembered him as tall, smiling, and tough-looking man. His mother spoke about him being a hard worker and smart. She had explained to him that he seemed to have inexhaustible energy. But suddenly that had changed. He was eight years older than Shawn’s mother. When he passed his fortieth birthday, he had a significant drop in energy and experienced some chest pains. Linda had insisted that she take him to the hospital in Burns, but Ken sternly said he wouldn’t go. By the next day, his chest pain was worse. Stubbornly, Ken still refused to go to the hospital. Exasperated, Linda called her brother, but it was too late. By the time Steve arrived, Ken had died.

Ken’s death had been a shock to Linda. Shawn was four years old at the time and did not remember his father except through photos. Although vaguely, he remembered his mother being upset and struggling to be available. In fact, it was Shawn that kept Linda from going into a full depression. Although she struggled to keep going, her need to take care of Shawn’s basic needs was what saved her.

Linda was immediately overwhelmed by her need to take care of the ranch. Her brother came to the rescue. He immediately began to take over the hard chores and advised her on the business end of the ranch. This had been a huge relief for her, but she seemed listless and directionless for several months. At the recommendation of her pastor, she began to attend a grief group. It wasn’t long before the group became central to her life. At about the three-month point, Hank entered the group. He had lost his wife to cancer a few months before. He had hesitated to attend the group, but his family had pressured him to make a change. He had no children of his own, but he had a living mother and one sister. They, along with a few friends, had met with Hank with the intent to do an intervention for his heavy drinking. He had refused treatment but had agreed to stop drinking and go to the grief group recommended by his physician.

At first, Linda and Hank had not hit it off. She remained fragmented and disoriented, and he was irritable and withdrawn; but over time, they became close and dependent on each other for support. They seemed to benefit from each other, and in a few months, both seemed to change. Laughter was heard when they were with her family, and Hank began to take over some of the responsibilities. One year from their acquaintance, it was clear that they were a couple.

Hank asked Linda to marry him about one and a half years from the death of Shawn’s father. At first, Linda’s brother and sister-in-law were not supportive. They felt it was too early and that Linda needed to slow down. It was inevitable though that they would marry. After briefly hesitating and having some serious conversations about her need to take care of her son, she agreed to the marriage. At first, their relationship seemed to go smoothly, but in time, Hank seemed to become impatient with Shawn. Linda attempted to protect Shawn and reminded Hank that her son had been through a lot of difficult changes. This uneasy balance remained until Ellie died.

Shawn felt emotionally exhausted. He looked at the seventh email and debated if he wanted to read it. Finally, he started to read.

Dear son,

It has been crazy around here. One of the ranchers near Burns has been sentenced to prison time for setting fire to the Malheur Wildlife Refuge. It’s a long story, but people are up in arms around here, some actually up in arms. I hear everything from he’s innocent to he deserved it. The big thing around here seems to be that some of the ranchers are fed up with the feds. I don’t really know how I feel, so I try to keep my mouth shut and just listen to people who have opinions. Your Uncle Jeff thinks the feds have too much control and that the land they lease to us should just be given to us who have ranched it for years, twenty-seven years to be exact. That’s how long we have lived here.

Meanwhile, I have another doctor appointment this month. This is just supposed to be a checkup, but I have been feeling really tired even though the doctor increased my thyroid medication. My stomach hurts too. I imagine it’s all the stress. It has been easier this time than it was with your father. People tell me it was because Hank’s death was expected. I don’t know, but that makes sense to me.

I have to wonder what is going on with you. Are you okay? I think the Navy would let me know if something bad has happened to you. Anyway, I wish you would contact me somehow. Even a brief email.

Oh well, I will stop now, and I will contact you when something comes up.

Love,

Mom

Shawn set all the email copies on the table next to his bunk and lay back onto his bed. His face was blank, but his thoughts whirled through his mind. Learning about his stepfather’s death was confusing. He didn’t really hate him but recognized how his changes after Ellie’s death had made things awful for his mother. Hank’s death had been a blessing in a way, but he could tell his mother was overwhelmed by the responsibilities of the ranch. Leaving the management of the ranch to his uncle left Shawn feeling uncomfortable.

What is going to happen to the ranch? I wish I could be back there right now, helping out with the feeding and the decisions. I know that Uncle Jeff has to be there to help Mom, but I don’t like how he just takes over. I should be doing that. It’s really stupid of me to even think about this. I can’t do a damn thing about it. I hate this! It’s like watching my life go haywire and not be able to do anything about it. Fuck this! If I hadn’t killed Ellie and if I hadn’t beat up Lawrence, I would be able to take care of things. Shit! Things would be better all around.

Negative thoughts continued to dominate Shawn’s mind for hours. Tossing and turning with images of the failures in his life merged with dreams of reaching out for his sister and his mother. Shawn awoke at 0500 bathed in sweat and feeling exhausted. As his mind began to clear, he decided it would be best if he wrote an email to his mother. He would say as little as possible and emphasize some recent events that had a positive outcome. As he began to compose his thoughts, he had to fight off sadness and anger over recent events.

Shawn called the guard over and requested access to a computer. He was surprised when he was told that he would have to get permission from his psychologist. It was difficult to relax since he had made up his mind to communicate with his mother. He was left sitting with his decision. He would seek permission when he met with Lieutenant Commander Stevens.