Doctor Jack regarded superstition as a luxury reserved for the weak of mind. He was a man of science first, so when confronting fresh mysteries he always considered the scientific possibilities first. However, when uncanny or illogical patterns presented themselves, he took care to make note and attach credence to such-even if the scientific basis behind these occurrences was not immediately evident. One such pattern he’d noted in his lifetime was this: Nights absent of sleep usually precede catastrophe. This was not a scientific theory, was not even a realistic hypothesis, but the truth of it had become apparent to him over the years. So when eyes stayed open and mind stayed alert-as they did on this night-it felt a warning.
Jack had been taught by experience and the passage of time that to lie alone in the dark can make you a prisoner of your own thoughts. Such quiet solitude can put a person in a mind to examine what he’s done in his life, what he’s doing, and where his life may be pointed. What a person might’ve done, should’ve done, could’ve done, couldn’t do and wouldn’t do.
But the worst were always the
Annoyed with the workings of his own mind, Jack attempted to distract himself with things imagined:
Doctor Jack grinned then laughed into black, cool air.
Should’ves.
Funny how the mind works.
He lightened at the irony and so relaxed, the fantastic dance of shoe doves evaporating as quickly as they’d materialized. Sleep was now a possibility, but before his mind could escape into dreams, one last tenacious shoe-dove whispered then clawed its way back into his mind. This shoe-dove’s name was Noonday Morningstar.
Morningstar’s face had often visited Jack in dreams, sometimes in waking hours. The preacher’s face was a reminder of his own inability (or, perhaps unwillingness) to act in moments requiring courage-just as he’d failed to act on the night of Morningstar’s death. The prison guard Beauregard had acted that night. Young Buddy Bolden had acted. Even little Typhus had acted. But he-a medicine man, doctor, and spiritual leader-had merely looked on. Helpless and afraid, he had done nothing.
But what could he have done? What should he have done? He didn’t know the answers, but he knew there
Doctor Jack had always liked and admired Morningstar even though the two men had agreed on very little. There was never any bad blood between them-except for the one thing.
Jack closed his eyes tight, rubbed at the lids, then opened them wide. Watched the dancing pinpricks explode from within, willed the pinpricks into shoe doves. Soaring, weaving, dancing. A tiny smile formed in his soul.
Doctor Jack sat bolt upright with thoughts of hot chicory simmering in his head, felt for the lamp, found a box of matches. The smell of burning saltpetre was pleasantly wakeful to him. He breathed in deep with eyes closed.
Three quick raps at the door gave him a start. Nocturnal intrusions were not unusual in his line of work, but Jack’s recent sleepless premonition of bad-things-coming-soon had put him on edge. He hurriedly touched match to wick before seeing to the door.
Typhus Morningstar nodded to Jack and walked in casually, as if this were a thing he did often at four in the morning. “Sorry if I woke you,” Typhus said, clearly troubled.
“That’s all right, Typhus,” said Jack. “I was having trouble sleeping anyway.”
“Me too.”
Jack pulled up a chair for Typhus who only stared at it and remained standing. “Trouble sleeping, eh? Well, that’s a shame. But what brings you here at this unusual hour?”
“I’m sorry. Didn’t want to wake Malaria and Dropsy, and didn’t want to sit up in the dark no more all alone. Bad dream. I’m really sorry to bother you, Doctor Jack.”
“That’s all right, little pardna. Gonna take care of you just fine. Dreams can be worse than most sicknesses. There’s no shame in dreaming.”
Typhus dragged his feet to the corner farthest from the door, eased himself into a sitting position with his head leaning leftways against the wall. His eyes were sleepy but unblinking.
Jack nudged him gently: “You feel like talking about it? This dream of your’n?’
“Not sure how.”
“Well, just start at the beginning. If you remember, that is. Sometimes dreams can rush out of your head on the waking.”
“I remember.” Typhus’ eyes told Jack that not only did he remember, but that he may spend the rest of his life trying to forget. “Don’t know if I can talk about it, though. Hurts to even think about it.”
“I see,” said Jack.
“No, you don’t see, Doctor Jack. No one can see.”
“True enough, little pardna. Be plenty of time to make me see tomorrow morning. After you done got some rest. And only if you want.”
“Guess why I come is on account of how the dream made me feel. Like I’m all alone in this world.” Doctor Jack laid some sheepskins behind Typhus, who reclined against them.
“Dreams can’t make you alone, Typhus.” Jack walked over to the medicine counter to mix one of his secret sleep remedies in a small steel cup. The taste gave the so-called secret away-its alcohol content being in the neighborhood of ninety proof. He handed the concoction to Typhus.
“More alone than I ever felt since you gave me Lily.” Typhus sat up enough to take a sip and then a full-blown swallow. He lay his head back down without wincing.
“Well, I guess even Lily has her limitations, son.”
Typhus liked it when Jack called him
“Try.” Jack didn’t want to press, but had a strong feeling Typhus needed to get something off his chest.
Typhus paused to arrange his thoughts, trying to decide between outright lying and half- truthing. He decided to talk straight. Lying wouldn’t make the sin any less, and he knew he could trust Jack to keep his secrets.
“Had this dream.” Typhus paused long.
“Gathered that much already. Listen, if you’d really rather not talk about it, we can just leave it for another-”
“Woke up hard-down there.” Typhus swallowed heavily, too far gone to turn back now. “In my privates.”
Jack raised an eyebrow and looked on expectantly.
“It wasn’t the kind of dream supposed to get a reaction like that. There was no pretty lady in the dream. No Lily. There was only bad stuff in the dream.”
