We had lunch, one of my dad’s chicken soup creations, and Elliot asked me to come over for dinner.
“If you don’t mind the place, Sheila’s church folks gave me too much food. ‘Sides, it’s odd not having anybody there all the time.”
“I know what you mean.”
“What, you got me, Bill, Jodie. That’s a lot.”
“I’m used to having a lot more people around.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Want me to bring anything?”
He nodded across the room. “You could bring a movie if you want. I used to watch movies ever’ now and then with Dan.”
My dad’s name hung in the room for a minute. I had a little pang of something that felt a lot like regret.
I got over to Elliot’s house about five. Like a wimp, I drove, because I didn’t want to slog back over in the dark. I gave Elliot the movie I’d picked out, Shane.
He had been frying up some onions and mushrooms, and his trailer smelled amazing. “I hope you like casserole ‘cause that and rolls is what they give me.” He poured the contents of his pan over two plates full of broccoli and casserole. “I’m not complaining. I froze up a bunch of single servings, so I’m set through March, most likely. It dries up like that, and the onions wake it back up.”
He set the pan on the back burner. “Couch or table?”
“Your call.”
We grabbed our plates and both headed for the living area. Elliot set his plate on the coffee table, grabbed the DVD, popped it in, then sat back in his recliner to eat.
I thought about the few times I’d been at Elliot’s house when his mom was in the hospital. I had not been past the turnoff for the farm before, but after a quick survey, I finally deduced that two of the three trailers in the gravel driveway were uninhabited, and the larger trailer on the end was theirs. The door was unlocked but guarded by a fat tabby cat who rolled over in the floor in front of me, inviting me to pet her enormous belly. While I obliged her, I glanced around at their tidy kitchen and living room, with its huge olive green couch. Next to it was a brown Naugahyde recliner, and a table covered with about six inches of Idaho Statesman and Messenger-Index newspapers. On the wall opposite the couch a portrait hung of a young man in a Marine uniform, the frame had a gold plate that simply read Recon 1992. I examined it more closely. It had to be Elliot, clean shaven and looking proud and stoic. Wow!
Sitting on the sofa, I examined the picture again. It was still impressive, but it just didn’t look like him.
“Is that you?” I pointed with my fork.
“Used to be.”
“Hmm.” Elliot offered no explanation. “Were you in the service for a while?”
“Marines. A long time ago.”
We were quiet for a moment.
“I went to Panama. I was Recon, and I saw some awful things. I didn’t do so well when I came back. My unit took a pretty bad hit and I kind of got messed up in the head in more ways than one.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I’m okay. A lot of guys I knew didn’t even make it back to complain about shit, so how can I? But for a long time I was scared to leave this house. I’d get where I was dizzy and I couldn’t breathe. I even passed out once. It happened while I was driving. So I just gave up driving. I’ve been doing better for a long time. Working on the farm helps me a lot.”
I let his words sink in for a moment.
“So what would you do if I sell the farm?”
“Oh, I can get work. Don’t worry about it. Somebody always needs grunt work done. I help Miss Sheila. I can keep busy. I have disability, and it’s enough to get by on.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I get a check ‘cause of the …”
Just then, the big fat tabby came scooting across kitchen, flapping her belly and paws across the floor like a mad animal.
“What the?! Pork Chop!” The cat did a stunt roll onto her back at Elliot’s feet, holding a mouse in between her paws. She got distracted by me and Elliot, and the mouse hopped onto my lap. My empty plate clattered to the floor as I hopped up to shoo the thing off me. Then the cat scampered away to parts unknown, with the mouse headed straight for the kitchen.
I looked over at Elliot, still firmly seated in his chair, and he burst out laughing. Still cringing from the up close and personal vermin visit, I began to laugh, too.
“Sorry.” I picked up my plate and fork and took them to the kitchen sink, checking the floor for the miscreant. Elliot was still grinning when I came back. “Pork Chop?”
“She tried to steal my pork chop one time.”
“Oh.”
We settled into watching the movie, but I caught Elliot grinning at me a couple of times. I woke up in the middle of the night with a blanket and a shawl covering me. I had missed the iconic, “Come back, Shane, come back” line from the movie. I could hear Elliot snoring down the hall, and I quickly fell back to sleep.
February 23, 2013
This morning Elliot heated up some breakfast casserole before we headed back to the house to do chores and to let Frodo outside. I put on my yard clothes (still sounds so weird to say), and we got started.
Things were going pretty good
