Wyoming Nights (5 page)

T
he outside of Daniel’s cabin was nothing spectacular.  It was a modest looking log cabin that appeared to be a modular design that he may have ordered from some website and had delivered.  The inside of the cabin was another story.  There were so many fine details and touches that could not have been manufactured but hand tailored.  The front porch extended under the living room picture frame window and a lone rocking chair sat underneath it with a small rustic table which looked as if it were made from four limbs cut to an even size with a scrap piece of wood as a table top.  It was simple, but something about the way it was made showed a certain rugged craftsmanship.

A similar tale could be written about the back porch that held one of the most picturesque views she had ever seen in her life.  The beautiful mountain range which served as the backdrop to a western romance appeared to spit out the river which ran by his back yard. A yard which seemed to extend into the middle of nowhere.  The back porch, like the front of the house was covered and in the corner was an outdoor kitchen with a small sink and vented grill.  A wood pile sat next to the grill along with canisters of seasonings which nestled beside a rack of utensils; all which were extremely clean.

The cleanliness also extended to the inside of the house as well as the two out buildings he was very pleased to show off on the tour on Saturday morning.

“This is my workshop,” he told them with pride as they stepped inside of the mid-sized building.  Surprisingly, it had a lowered ceiling, with shelving that held various sizes of wood pieces, some precut from a home building big box store while others were pieces of wood picked up from hikes and trails along his route.

“You make furniture?” Darlene asked him.

“Yes, I am learning.  Everything inside the cabin I made, including the bed platforms, the kitchen table and chairs,” this too he said with a feeling of accomplishment.  “I hope, in the next couple of years to add a store to the front of the property and sell my pieces from there.”

“I was in Amish country a few weeks ago and I had the chance to visit a country store.  I loved the home made soaps, the quilts and jams. Oh!” She said with a pause as she placed her hand on his forearm.  “I did bring you a jar of honey and some jam from that store.  When we head back inside, I will get it for you.”

“Sounds great.  I have some bread that I baked that we can toast up and I will catch us some trout for lunch,” he said with a smile.

“You baked bread...” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, I also created that beautiful marinade that I soaked those elk steaks in... did you know it wasn’t beef?”

“Oh, yeah.  The marbling in the steaks didn’t look like beef, but it had a wonderful flavor and the meat was perfectly cooked,” she told him.

They continued to walk in silence as they left his workshop and walked to the barn behind it. The barn was empty.

Daniel looked inside the building, “I am not certain of what I want to put in here.  I know I was initially thinking of adding a few hens, maybe a rooster, but I also don’t want foxes and wolves coming down for an easy meal.”

Darlene’s eyes were wide.  For the first time, she noticed that he was taking her all in. He started at her head and worked his way down to her toes. She swallowed hard under the scrutiny of his gaze. Her voice trembled when she said, “The idea of wild animals wandering up to the cabin does frighten me some,” she said softly.

“I will teach you how to shoot my rifle and small arms weapons if you are not opposed to learning. I have a few more years with the Forestry Service, and when there is a lost hiker, I can be gone for days at a time until I find them.  It would be important for you to know how to defend yourself if I am not home,” he said to her. He waited to gauge her response.

“Defend myself from...animals...”

“On four and two legs. I don’t mean to frighten you but it is important to understand the whole picture before you move out in the middle of nowhere,” he told her.  The morning walk had left the barn as they walked along the bank of the river. “On occasion there are people who turn off the highway to come see the river.  They spot the house and want to use the bathroom, or grab a bite to eat, which is why I want to put a store out here.”

She wanted to know, “Is that why there is a separate bathroom in the front yard?”

He laughed. “I guess you spotted that huh?”

“Yeah, it was hard to miss,” she responded.

“I have had a few shady looking folks come through and want to use the facilities. They can use that one while I sit on my front porch with my shotgun.  They take care of their business without stepping foot in my home and can be on their way,” he said.

The question she had been wanting to ask came out the wrong way, “Why in the hell do you live way out here by yourself?”

“I like the quiet and peacefulness of this way of life. I can hear myself think, I eat right, get lots of exercise, and at the end of the week there is a tangible accounting of what I have accomplished.  City life is not for me,” he told her.

“I take it you have lived in the city.”

“I grew up in Atlanta, then moved to Los Angeles and after living there for a few years, out here was a welcomed change,” he told her.

“Did you choose this assignment?”

He stopped short of a sectioned off piece of land that was earmarked for a garden. “This is good soil.  I can see some tomatoes, cucumbers, and root veggies growing in this plot.  I tried to make a garden but it only became an all you can eat buffet for rabbits and ground hogs. Sheila D. loved it, she would bring me rabbits every day for dinner,” he told her.

“That’s nice but you just deflected my question,” she told him.

“Nope.  I am trying to find the right way to answer it,” he replied.

“Answer it honestly,” she told him as she turned to face the man she was giving serious consideration to having him as part of her future.

He lowered his head. “I messed up.  I was assigned to Yellowstone and one weekend there was a couple camping...they had no business being out in the wilderness.  A couple of city types who wanted to try their hand at roughing it,” he said with some melancholy in his voice.  “Three times I warned them about cleaning up behind themselves.  The third warning I should have made them leave, but they were going to be gone in a day or so anyway...”

His voice trailed off as he looked out towards the mountain range.  “I don’t know what got them first, the wolves or the bear. By the time I found them, or what was left, small carnivores had gotten to them as well.”

The anguish in his eyes was so evident that Darlene moved into his personal space wrapping her arms around his waist. The weight of his mistake could be felt as he leaned into her accepting the quantum of solace she offered as if she were the first person to understand that he had lost something more than those two lives he should have protected from themselves.  “This assignment,” he told her as he wrapped his arms around her. “...this assignment was supposed to make me quit my job.  I have worked for the Forestry Service since I was 25 years old.  When I turn 55 in two years, I will have served for 30 years.”

She had not moved from the comfort of his embrace because she needed it as much as he did. Darlene listened to his heartbeat as much as she did to his words.  He spoke in a low tone, “I don’t take any chances anymore.  When I see knuckleheads who are out of their element, doing stupid stuff like leaving food laying around, I slap a fine on rule breakers and make’em pack it up. I even carry a portable DVD player to show them what happens when they don’t stay safe.”

The beating of his heart against her ear was like a long lost drummer calling a cadence to a band that had lost step in the parade. His hands were calloused as the rough pads of his fingers rubbed against the soft cotton of her blouse.  His body was solid and extremely warm as the feel of his powerful arms around her body issued a command of safety.

In his arms I feel safe.

“Darlene,” he said softly as his hands rubbed her back.  Barely an inch of light could come between their bodies as she clung to him, holding on to a moment that she feared would be gone too soon.  “I love it here because just before dawn, everything in this wilderness begins to wake up and move.  Each animal knows that the security of their night time hiding place is no longer safe, and they must move or they shall die.”

She lifted her head to stare up into his eyes.  He was a nice looking man.  The deep brown eyes, the light beard which framed his chin to those very kissable lips that called to her, made her come up to her toes to initiate a kiss.

“I don’t want to die in my hiding place Daniel,” she told him as she brought her lips to his. The kiss was not one of passion, but of understanding. His lips were soft and as undemanding as the kiss. He didn’t probe her mouth with his tongue but instead provided small kisses of affection versus domination.

“I will be a protector, a provider, a lover and a friend to you Darlene. The life I lead is simple.  My vision is to own a country store filled with homemade wares.  I am well read and can speak on many topics and my knowledge of the environment is hands on. My personality is what you see and I am easy going,” he told her.

She stared up at him trying to take in everything he was telling her. “Meaning what exactly Daniel?”

He touched her cheek and kissed her once more.  “I am yours if you will have me,” he said softly.

Everything was waking up for Darlene. In her life, the past three weeks had shown her how much she was missing, but it also showed her what was missing in her life; a different type of purpose.  The past three weekends had been illuminating to a small framed body who had hidden in the dark obfuscation of death for four years prior. The past weekends were comprised each of the three men who had been a piece of the one man who held her closely tonight. There wasn’t anything in his embrace which read sexual predator.  Nothing about Daniel said he had a hidden agenda. His agenda was clear, he had a vision and wanted to build something, not only for himself, but for others. 

For Darlene, it was right before dawn and she had to move or she was going to die in that house and in her torment. She didn’t want that life anymore, but she did want what he offered; a chance to build something.
Hmmm...a country store with homemade quilts, soaps, honey, jam and his furniture.

Vision.

Purpose.

I can make the inventory for this store.

“I will Daniel,” she told him as she clung tight to him. “You are my choice.  I will hav you as my husband.”

I
t was an easy choice for Darlene.  At least with Daniel she did get the opportunity to choose.  George Patterson chose her. The day he laid eyes on her person, Darlene was on campus staging a protest over the lack of diversity in university student organizations.  He admired her passion, her fire, her commitment to a cause.

“I’m going to marry you girl,” he said upon first meeting her.

Darlene didn’t take him seriously considering she had been doused in honey and was covered in chicken feathers by the fraternity brothers of
I Tappa Keg
or some relatively similar sausage fest group.  Those types of organizations always took the lion share of university program funding to host parties that would attract pretty girls, who in turn would attract the best athletes to attend the university. All of these short comings Darlene pointed out with hard core facts, figures and dollar signs.  A little something that she made certain reached all of the newspapers and the three local news channels which were active in 1985.

That was the thing about Darlene that George admired; when she spoke, people listened.  She presented sound arguments and quantifiable facts to support her stance on any subject from the lack of green vegetables in the cafeteria to the animals used for testing in the research labs on campus. Her facts and figures resulted in actions.

“Darlene, you are a doer,” George said to her one evening at a women’s rights rally.

“No George, I am a voice of the unheard,” she told him.  The rally, which she helped organize, was put together to draw attention to the number of women assaulted on campus.

“I truly admire your passion.  Whenever I see a rally or protest on campus, I know you are going to be somewhere in the middle,” he told her.

Truthfully, George Patterson was not her type.  He was a nice looking man, that was very clean cut with perfectly filed nails, pressed denims, and wore expensive cotton polos with little alligators on the left breast of the shirts.  Most of the time Darlene barely wore shoes. On a good day, she would wear underwear if there were any clean.  George was buttoned down and buttoned up and she could tell he came from wealth.

It didn’t take her long in her first three years of college to learn the difference between money, nouveau riche, and the wealthy.  George Patterson was old black money and he had a wallet full of credit cards.  She noticed that little tidbit when he opened it to make a donation at a Save the Whales rally.

“When are you going to go on a date with me Darlene Hill?  I am tired of following you all over campus as you try to save the world and everything in it,” he confessed one evening as he walked her back to her dorm.

“George, a man has to believe in something, otherwise he only exists to be a puppet for the corporate machine that threatens to run us all.  Someone has to take a stand and fight back.  Pretty soon these big businesses are going to buy their way into our government and have laws and legislation passed that will destroy this planet and everything in it so they can make a profit. Even sooner, we will be eating lab created food grown with lab created seeds which will result in our children being dumber and reaching breeding ability faster. It’s the same thing they did with the slaves George; they bred them dumber and stronger. Slaves, George! I am all for making a living, but it won’t mean crap if there is no planet left to live on or the people running it are too dumb to understand how to survive,” she told him with fire in her eyes.

That speech was enough for George.  Without warning, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.  This was also the time that George learned Darlene had taken a self-defense course.  As he lay on the sidewalk cupping his reproductive units, Darlene walked away from him. She didn’t care if she ever saw the man again.

Ironically, it was hunger that brought him back into her life.  In her endless pursuit of justice, she had failed to give any to her financial aid packet, and she was out of funds.  Her brother James was in the military and stationed in the Gulf, so calling him for reserves was out of the question.  Her oldest brother, Roosevelt, who was older by three years, had finished college and had taken a job in a small town in the Southern portion of Georgia.  The town was so small, she didn’t remember the name of it.  Calling her mother was out of the question.  Money was too tight to even ask Eloise Hill for any extra.  The mistake was hers therefore the cross was hers to bear.

“George, this is Darlene Hill,” she said hopefully into the phone.  “I was calling to check on you, to make sure you were alright.”

“You pack a heck of a wallop, but I am okay,” he said followed by with a long winded sigh. “Darlene, have dinner with me?”

That was the correct question because she was starving.  The last items in her pantry were three cans of vegetable beef soup and two packs of ramen noodles. Those would have to last for a while. Lucky for her, George liked to eat out and not in the cafeteria.

Their first date he drove up in a shiny blue BMW with a state of the art sound system that he used to play only Donald Fagen and Michael Franks. Darlene didn’t even think that a meal was worth suffering through a car ride of
that
music. Instead of changing the channel, she turned the music down so she could talk to him.

“Man, MTV has gone live. British bands are the rage, Madonna is taking the world by storm, Duran Duran is the hottest ticket around and you are listening to Michael Franks!”  She said with a bit of disgust in her voice.

George was nonplussed. “Yeah, when those guys are one hit wonders and old men with bald heads and tight leather pants, I can still buy tickets to hear Donald Fagen and his music will not be dated.  I won’t have to attend a retro concert filled with has beens trying to capture a time when they believed they were cool.”

It made sense.

George made sense.

For nearly a month he fed her.  Darlene put a halt to the expensive restaurant meals and taught him how to grocery shop.  Together they cooked dinners and shared stories.  It didn’t take long before they became the “it” couple on campus.  George became president of his fraternity and Darlene chartered a NAACP Chapter. He had his own way of getting things done behind the scenes and he was okay for her to be out front in the spotlight.

Out front is where she lived throughout law school. George, after learning to cook well balanced meals under her direction, would make lunches for her while she studied.  The small apartment they shared off campus became a central point for friends to gather to see what the power couple had planned for the weekend. George had impeccable taste in wine and she in saving money.  With George’s connections, weekend get-aways took on a whole new meaning.  She learned how to speak with the hoi polloi on Thursdays and put a sweet little black dress with pearls to meet with Congressmen and well-funded supporters at Friday cocktail mixers.

Before long, she was wearing his ring, meeting his family and spending Thanksgiving in Connecticut and Christmas in Virginia. During law school Darlene married George in a mid-sized wedding full of people she’d read about in newspapers who were friends of the Patterson’s.  Her side of the church was littered with blue collar workers whose shoes did not always match their belts while his side wore couture and designer suits.

They began their life together in a small townhouse in Georgetown. It was a good marriage that produced two strong, brilliant children that Darlene rarely got to see because of her hectic work schedule and business travels.  After a few years, George moved the family to a larger home in Fredericksburg next to political pundits and the who’s who of politics on “The Hill”.  Her neighbors were people Darlene rarely saw outside of work related encounters but warm bodies she shared headlines with in national papers.  Although she attempted to make it home for dinner each night, her travels and activism for the rights of animals and the planet kept her on the road.

George never complained. Darlene didn’t complain either. He groomed and nurtured their children in the manner in which he was raised.

Their son, George the fourth headed off to college in a shiny black BMW with a state of the art sound system that he used mainly to listen to Najee and Kenny G.  Their daughter, Nathalie, was the spitting image of her mother but the mouth piece of their father. Nathalie grew up a staunch conservative who believed that P.E.T.A. meant people eating tasty animals. Either she was masticating large chunks of their flesh or wearing them in the form of leather pants and rare animal hides on her wrist in the usage of ridiculously expensive purses.  She and Darlene never saw eye to eye on anything, least of all the super conservative, stupidly rich man Nathalie married at the age of 20.

Nathalie became the mother of twins at the ripe age of twenty-noe.  Darlene’s heart broke for her daughter.

“You will never understand what it means to be a woman of substance,” she told Nathalie.

“Mother, you are so busy trying to be something that you have never stopped to be anybody’s someone.  You are everything to Daddy, yet he seems like a man who is only there to support you and be your cheerleader.  When have you ever cheered anyone else...you never even cheered on your own children because you were never around,” Nathalie told her. “And especially not your grandchildren.  Do you even know their names?”

She knew their names. Those children were going to be her opportunity to see for the first time all the things she missed with her own children.  The first steps, the first tooth, and their first words she would have experienced with her grandchildren since she missed most of these rites of passage with her daughter and son.  She had planned to cheer on the little darlings, had they lived. Darlene also had plans to cheer on her daughter as her husband put in his bid for President of United States. There was no way the slimy little bastard Nathalie married would be elected, which was also something they argued about.

“He did not earn his money honestly, which is going to come out,” Darlene told her daughter.

“You say that as if Dad earned his money; he inherited it...no rich man earns his money honestly Mother!” she said with extra venom in her voice.

“That is where you are wrong.  The money we have, your father earned with investments.  That husband of yours is going to use up your youth, break your heart, and leave you with two small children to raise,” Darlene told her before walking out of the room.  She left the house to catch a plane to Arizona to chat to an Indian chief about tribal land rights; a Chief she can no longer remember his name.

It was the last conversation she had with her daughter. It was more than the conversation she had with her son. Darlene racked her brain for four years trying to remember if she had kissed George goodbye before he climbed in the minivan with their two children and two grandkids to go to the ball game.

The only thing she could remember was that she had never been George’s cheerleader.  She had given birth twice, but she had never been a mother.  Her life had been spent caring for the environment yet never understanding the world in which she existed. Hunger had altered her life course.  A full belly and 5,500 square foot home had been the shrine in which George perched his trophy.

I was his trophy wife.

She made more money than he did and it was without question that he was in charge of the finances.  He took care of all the details including her dry cleaning bill, the braces for the kids and even the family vacations.  George had taken care of everything.  Like a wind up doll he pointed her in the direction she should go and off she toddled taking on one cause after another.

After his death she found all the windfalls he had received for her legislative fights. Large sums of money had been paid to a non-profit he created as a shell company to receive the pay-offs.  George never needed his parent’s money because he had accumulated millions of dollars in favors for the fights he selected for her.

The truth of her life with George is what took her down the dark path. The verity of his actions had kept her in that dark house for four years. The legitimacy about her purpose for saving the planet had been altered by her husband’s greed.

An ugliness crept up around her throat and nearly suffocated her each time she thought about how George used her for his own personal gain.  Like an idiot she thought she was doing good for the planet and making a difference.  She missed out on being a real mother to her children because she had inadvertently been his pawn. 

Richard had wanted the same thing from her.

Cornell wanted a playmate in the bedroom.

Darrell had shown her a light. 

It was Daniel who made her want to live.

It was just about twilight in Wyoming when Darlene stepped out on the balcony of the guest bedroom and listened to the coming of a new day. A new day that reminded her that she had never been happy in her marriage. Four years of sitting by yourself in a house that you hated was a agonizing reminder that there is a big difference in being fulfilled and being busy.

For the last 26 years, she had been busy.  The excruciating realization that kept her in darkness for four years was the truth that she hadn’t been happy in a long time.  She had simply been too busy to realize it.