Children of the Sunrise
Chapter 11
In the last few hours, six other kids with an odd assortment of animals had come tapping at the back door, sent by their `friends'. Of course, none of their `friends' asked me if I wanted univited guests waking me all night long. Nam and Joey had been talking about the "others" that were coming but none of us knew what they were meant. Now we do.
According to the boys, we should expect a number of guests before we leave. Needless to say, this revelation has thrown a monkey wrench into the logistical planning for the exodus.
Speaking of monkey wrenches, we may need one. We got our first monkey today. Not your little organ grinder type, but a full size male gibbon. He must weigh forty of fifty pounds and has a mouth full of sharp, pointy teeth. He came in with an owl-faced, bookish little boy about six named Jebediah. They were holding hands. Jebediah says his name is Arthur.
I've seen gibbons before in the zoo. They're loud and belong in trees, not my living room. We're just hoping this guy can keep his mouth shut. Last thing we need at this point is to bring the cops down on us for disturbing the peace via gibbon whoops.
We also got our second horse, a huge, expensive looking, bay stud that came in with a set of little golden haired twins on his back. Jesse called James, who was doing another allnighter setting up for the trip and told him. Now he gets to add a double horse trailer to his already impossibly long list.
Those two horseback seven-year-olds, Tricia and Felicity, don't look the wretched child part at all. They're dressed in matching designer outfits that must have come from Neiman's children's department. If you didn't look in their eyes you wouldn't know their daddy was in the habit of sneaking into their beds at night without their permission. They look like a couple of perfect little china dolls, a little prissy too. I had gone back to bed and dreamed that Rivi was trying to tell me something. I couldn't understand her and woke up sweating.
About 5:30, I gave up trying to sleep and stumbling over about ten different animals, made my way downstairs to start breakfast. (Hey honey, could you make a little extra this morning? A few friends are coming over. Say about about forty kids, seven adults, thirty odd cats and dogs, two horses and a gibbon. Sorry about the short notice.)
My "imaginary friend" showed up and tried to start some philosophical discussion but I was too exhausted to hear it. I suggested he go play in a meteor swarm. He accused me of being testy and "fffoooped" off.
Variety was sitting in the kitchen visiting with some kid I hadn't seen before. I was too tired to take much notice...just another intrusive munchkin. The coffee was already perkin' to my great relief. It was pretty quiet, so I decided I deserved a few minutes with my morning paper and coffee before beginning the great oatmeal cookoff. I tied my robe up a little tighter and walked out the front door to get the morning papers. I get the only remaining Houston newspaper and the New York Times every morning. On Sunday, our household is a paper recycler's paradise.
I tiptoed out on the front porch and down the sidewalk looking for the news in the pre-dawn dimness. As my eyes adjusted I saw something that made my blood curdle. A blue and white with two officers in it was sitting right in front of our house. I froze for a second, my mind going at light speed, then one of them looked over at me. I smiled, waved, picked up the closest paper, then started to walk back in the house.
I heard a car door crack. "Mr. Bowie," he called out, "we need to talk to you."
My stomach jumped over the moon. "Sure officer, just give me a minute. I'll throw the paper inside and be right back out." My musical brain started playin' "I...been workin' on the chain...gaayayang".
I forced myself to walk calmly into the house. As I closed the door, I looked through window and saw them starting to get out of the car. I screamed at Variety as loud as I could whisper.
"Variety! The police are out front." What the hell happened to the kid's early warning system? I thought Dusty had said a police car couldn't get anywhere close to here without the animals setting off an alarm! I knew damn well getting that sleeping menagerie awake and hidden before the policemen made it inside would be next to impossible.
Variety came running into with a look of horror on her face. The cops were standing by their cruiser talking to somebody in the back seat. I turned to her and sputtered some orders.
"Move fast kiddo...but real quiet. Get Dusty up first so she can tell the animals to keep their mouths' shut." I walked to the door, took a deep breath and walked outside. I strolled in what I hoped was casual manner over to the curb and stuck my hand out. "What can I do for you officers? Don't tell me you guys found out about that little bank job in Tombstone, Arizona. I can explain that, you see my mother needed an emergency operation..." I could see right away they weren't in the mood for jokes and cut it short. "Sorry guys, just joking, what can I help you with?"
There was a big one and a small, skinny one. The skinny one said "Mr.Bowie, we have been told that you are hiding runaway children." He seemed very nervous and kept looking down the street like he was expecting backup or something. "The jigs up," I thought "these guys don't want to mess around." I started wondering how long I could keep them away from the house before they kicked my butt and busted in the door. It didn't look good. I figured I could be a problem to the little guy but the big guy looked pretty solid and they both had guns and nightsticks. I was armed with bare feet, a coffee cup and a big mouth.
"Kids...runaways...why we have seen a couple of kids running around but we don't have any here, just our own kids and a few friends of theirs..." I rambled on desperately for a few seconds before somebody suddenly started tapping on the back window of the car. The big guy reached over and opened the door. A figure crawled out dressed in a black cassock.
"Willa!" I cried "What are you doiing here?" I couldn't have been more surprised.
"It's okay Tom. I'm sorry, I should have come to the door but we didn't expect anyone to be awake this early. This officer..." she pointed to the short guy "is my brother Wilson, and this is his friend, Officer Wisenhunt. You have nothing to fear from them Tom. They're on our side. They need some help and I didn't know where else to go."
It took a little while for what she said to sink in. I automatically start charging up with guilt and fear when an officer of the law pays too much attention to me. I guess it comes from several years of walking around Austin with marijuana in my sock. After I grew out of being a degenerate, hippy outlaw, I learned that most cops are just regular people. Still the conditioning dies hard and over the last week, especially since the night at the shelter, it had come back in spades.
"Willa, we are in a scary situation here. If we were keeping runaway children, it would be dangerous and illegal. These officers would be bound to arrest us and return the children to the custody of the state..."
The little guy interrupted me. "Listen Mr.Bowie, I know you've got no reason to trust me but I swear all I want is to take care of some kids in trouble. Me and Chester have been assigned to Child Protective Services since Sunday and we don't like the way things are going." He paused and looked down at the ground. When he looked back up, his eyes showed an angry determination. "We're not going by the book Mr. Bowie...the way things are now, a man's got to make up his own mind." He looked over at the big guy and then at Sister Willa. "I talked to Willa about it... Chester and I, we think God wants us to help these kids."
"Besides," he went on, "you need us too...more than you think. The department has started sweeps all over the city of houses that are suspected of harboring runaway children. Your house is on the list. They should be here sometime tonight or tomorrow morning."
"Oh Christ!" I thought "We're not scheduled to leave 'till tomorrow night...they'll bust us for sure." I still didn't know whether I ought to trust two policemen and started to mumble some lamebrain thing about a raid being no problem to us as we had nothing to hide...
"Thomas Jefferson Bowie," Willa reached over and grabbed me by the ear "I think after all this time you do have some reason to trust me...this is not the Alamo and you will stop acting like a suspicious fool. These men are friends, who have gone to considerable risk to warn you and the children. I expect that you will treat them as such." There's nothing like being lectured by a nun with a hammerhold on your earlobe to change your attitude.
"Yes Sister." I whined. Willa let go and gave me a quick hug. I stuck my hand out again. "Sorry guys, these are scary times. It's hard to tell who you can trust."
I put my arm around Willa "If you guys will wait out here, this bossy nun and I will go inside and explain what's going on. We have a house full of nervous animals with uniform phobias and I need to clear a path so I can get you some breakfast."
The big guy put his hand on my shoulder. "Wait Mr. Bowie, Wilson and I need to get back on the road and warn some more people what's coming." The guy's grip was like a clamp. I found myself increasingly happy it had not come down to fisticuffs. He held me and looked straight and deep into my eyes. "Sister Willa says we can trust you. Mr. Bowie, I've got no one else. I need someone to trust." He gave me one last searching look, then turned away and loosened his grip. I don't know if he found what he was looking for in my eyes.
"The guys on the force, the citizens get them wrong sometimes. They're mostly just regular guys with a job to do. There're a few bad apples but most of the boys became cops because they thought they could help people." I waited. I could see whatever he needed to say was important to him. "The guys are scared right now. Lots of cops have been killed and hurt in this mess. They aren't thinking too straight. I`m afraid some of 'em might do something crazy when they find out what Wilson and I have done."
He looked up at me again. "Sister Willa thinks you guys might be leaving town." I choked and swallowed. He obviously read my face. "Well, that's smart. This town's no place for children and won't be for a while. I need you to take Amy with you." He turned towards the car. "Come on out sweetness."
A little hand grabbed the edge of the car door. A little head peaked shyly around the corner. I shuddered.
"Rivi!" I thought for a second. The dream came back up with a familiar taste of acid but the recognition dissolved as the little girl came fully into view. I tried to hide my disappointment as the officer began again.
"My wife died two years ago. There's just Amy and me." I could see the hardnosed old cop was near tears. I wasn't far off. "Her friend says this is the right thing for her and Sister Willa says she'll watch out for her." He looked over at me again. He was almost begging. "Please Mr. Bowie, will you take her with you?"
"If I get one more lump in my throat, I'm going to start worrying about cancer of the larynx." I thought. "Sure Officer Wisenhunt, we'd be honored to host a gorgeous young lady like Miss Amy." I knelt down and stuck out my hand. "Welcome to the Bowie household, Miss Amy Wisenhunt. Everybody calls me "Uncle Tom" but you can call me anything you want if you'll help me make breakfast."
She eased around the edge of the car door, walked over and clung to her father's leg. He reached down and picked her up. The two of them stood there for over a minute desperately hugging. Somehow, just like her dad, I think she knew she might never see him again. After a while, she wriggled out of his arms while the rest of us wiped the tears from our eyes.
"Mr.Bowie," she reached out her hand, ready for proper social intercourse, "...it's nice to meet you too. Now tell me, do you have any cinnamon...I always eat cinnammon on my oatmeal. I'm sure if we're going to make breakfast, we should make the special kind that my dad and me eat. Children like it."
I grabbed her outstretched hand. "Far be it from me to limit the creativity of another chef. I'm sure we can scare up some cinammon that will meet your standards."
"Tom," said Willa. "If it is not already obvious, I have deduced that you are planning to leave. I have no direct evidence. Also I have presumed that if you are, you would be willing to take me along. I hope I have not presumed too much?"
"No Willa, both your deduction and your assumptions are right on the mark. Lord knows, we could use another hand around this zoo. I'd be thankful if you would join us."
We made arrangements with the two officers to touch base later in the day. We gave them the P.O. Box in Cloudcroft that James Purcival had set up for communication, exchanged phone numbers, then with a last hug from Amy, the two men drove away. I wondered how many heros would be unsung before this business was over, how many little men would become great big men in the times ahead. With one arm around Willa and the other holding fast to little Amy's hand, I walked back to the house.
A huge black man with a baseball bat met us just inside the door.
"Ho! Johnny boy...lighten up." I said. "Those weren't the bad guys after all." John Sr. was up and holding the Louisville slugger with both hands. Other than the bandage on his shoulder he looked like any other 300 pound black man in boxer shorts that you might find in your living room at six in the morning. I hadn't seen him since we dropped his carcass off at the hospital. He had come home and gone to bed last night while I was out on an errand for Jesse. "Boy, am I glad to see your ugly face again...You remember Sister Willa I'm sure."
"Of course Tom, it was my shoulder, not my head. Hi Willa. What was going on out there with the police?" I left Willa to explain the situation to John Sr. and went looking for Jesse and the rest. I found them in the garage and hidden among the trees along the bayou. After I explained things to Jesse, she called a war council with Dusty and Nam. James was supposed to be home at seven-thirty to check out the final plans with Jesse before leaving. He and Nam had been planning to take off this morning.
It soon became obvious I wasn't needed in the planning meeting, so I grabbed a couple of helpers, including Amy Wisenhunt, and went back to the kitchen to make breakfast. After getting the mess crew organized, I walked into the living room and looked through my record collection for just the right selection to start this, our last day together in Houston. I picked John Lennon's "Imagine" album, maybe not the world's greatest music, but one of it's finest visionary statements.
My record collection is my most prized possession. It took two days for Jessie to convince me that I was going to have to leave it in Houston. I have maybe 2,500 LP's, most in impeccable condition, all in alphabetical order and God help the person who touches my records with anything less than respect for the sacred. The thought of being without them was disheartening but I finally had to admit that it would be tough hoofing it through the wilderness with twelve orange crates full of LP's. I decided I would just take the cassettes instead. It's a much less extensive collection. I've got CD's too...but let's be honest, CD's are for wimps.
An hour later, after the troops had been fed, the planning meeting broke up with assignments for everyone. The house emptied out in a hurry. It was the first time the Jesse and I had been alone in days. She decided it was time to drop a bombshell.
"Thomas, I need to talk to you." she said.
"Ummmmm" I replied. I was busy packing my cassettes in the vinyl carrying case. It only held seventy tapes so I was having to be selective.
"Thomas, I'm not going with you to New Mexico."
"Ummmmm" I said. I had sixty-three picked for sure. The last seven were giving me fits. Was it enough to include just three Beatles albums? Would John Denver's Greatest Hits be sufficient or should I bring "I Want to Live"? Dan Hicks and the Hot Licks or Doug and the Slugs?..."What!" Suddenly it sunk in. "What do you mean you're not going!"
"We've all discussed it Tom. Someone has to stay here for a while and I'm the logical choice. I'm the attorney. James is the one with the contacts in New Mexico and I'm the only other person with their hands on the legal and financial situation."
"No way kid. That is not going to work. You're not staying here by yourself and that's final. This town is dangerous and you'll be alone. I will not have it..." Jesse lets me bluster. She knows I have to do it. It gives me the illusion of having more power over the situation than I do, which is important to my male ego. After I raved for a minute or so, Jesse reached over and grabbed my cheeks in her hands.
"I know you're going to miss me lover. I know you worry about me. I know you want me around but I have to do this. I'm the only one who can. I don't think it will take more than a week or two, maybe three..."
"Three weeks!" I howled.
"...and I'll be able to join you. Tom, think about the children all across the city. They have no place to go. If things work out in New Mexico, they'll be safe there. We've got to set up some kind of underground to smuggle them out if we can...and I'm the only one of us who has the legal and political contacts to accomplish that." She let go of my cheeks and pulled me close. "I want to be with you too. I don't want to be here without my man and my children." I felt lost and deflated. I knew if Jesse had made her mind up, there were good reasons behind the decision and there was no way in Hell I was going to budge her. I started to feel lonely just thinking about it. I decided I might as well not make it any harder for her.
I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her back a bit so I could see her beautiful face. I looked in her eyes for a long moment and tried to memorize every detail. "Okay kiddo, Lord knows I won't be able to change your mind. Your a big girl. I know you can handle it. You just get your job done real soon and get your butt up to New Mexico or I'm going to start chasing some Apache maiden."
"James says the Apache's frown on that Tom. They're very protective of the virtue of their young women. He says they've been known to revoke the offender's ability to sin on occasion..." She slipped her hand down my chest and between my legs. "...and if they don't, I will!" She grabbed and yanked to illustrate her point.
I jumped about six inches and yiped. "Okay, you greedy amazon, I'll save myself for you, but just remember..." I pulled her closer and grabbed a few handfulls of my own. "...I have these runaway hormones where you're concerned. If you don't show up sometime soon, I'm not sure I can be responsible for my actions. I might go stark raving mad and ravish anything in sight." I pinned her up against the couch and greedily dove for her parted lips. Slowly she began to lose her balance and before I knew it we were toppling over the back of the couch, still locked in a passionate embrace.
Radio led John Jr. into the room from the kitchen door. "Oh gross! he groaned as he heard us making smacking noises. "They're at it again. That is soooo disgusting. Do your parents ever do that?"
"Yeah" answered John Jr. "All the time. Doesn't it make you want to barf?" They scurried out of the room as fast as they could, which suited me just fine.
Jesse reached up and kissed my nose. "You are disgusting you know." she giggled.
"And proud of it." I replied, sending my hands out on a few new sorties.
I plunged through her luscious lips like a pearl diver, intent on the treasure I knew was there. We gropped and panted on the couch for a few minutes like a couple of teenagers at a drive-in movie. When things began to get a bit too heavy for public consumption, we charged up the stairs into the privacy of our bedroom to finish our long, sweet goodbyes.
Afterwards, as I lay on the bed watching Jessie fix her hair at her dressing table, I thought to myself "God, I love that woman. I love the way she holds those pins in her teeth. I love the way her neck flows into the small of her back, parting those perfect shoulders. I love to listen to her hum the same tune over and over in the shower. I love the way the tough and proper businesswoman turns into a wanton playmate behind closed doors and then stops all the heated action because she hears one of the kids cough. I love her silly sneezes, her compulsion for the New York Times crossword puzzle, the way she wrinkles her nose and folds her lips while putting on her makeup."
After almost eighteen years together, Jessie was everything I could ever have asked for in a wife, a lover and a friend. I couldn't imagine my life without her. We had become so much a part of each other that sometimes I didn't know where I began and she ended. A frozen fist grabbed at my stomach as I faced the prospect of not seeing her for three weeks...or, in these uncertain times, ever again.
Death is like that. If you let him, he'll sit on your shoulder and show you everything that truly matters in your life. The old grim reaper doesn't just cut the stem, he separates the wheat from the chaff. Right then, he was telling me there were some things left unsaid between my wife and me.
I rolled off the bed, walked across the room and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. I bent down and began tenderly kissing her neck and whispering. I whispered quiet, loving things that I wanted her to remember if we never saw each other again, things that would make her feel beautiful and desired, things that would make her feel special and perfect and warm in the heart.
Some old married couples can make love with their
clothes on, without ever touching, without saying a word.
It can happen in a glance, a smile, a knowing look...
passing in a moment but lasting a lifetime. Foreplay can
lead to passion, then consummation and all of it can
happen in the eyes alone. Sometimes it's like that for
Jessie and me. Sometimes the hand, the heart and the soul
become one...two people push through the isolation that
keeps them apart and dance together in the flame.
