OK...it's long...I didn't get permission...sorry.
Note pad or composition book 5/3/07
Jack sat on the warm sand by the stream. He opened the little notebook that he enjoyed writing in. He always and only came here when he would write. It was his special place: A place where no one ever came and disturbed his memories, or his writing. Throughout his life, he regretted his lack of education, but since finding this place, he seemed more capable, more fluent with words and his feelings. Maybe it was this place. The colors were more vivid. The green of the grass, and the leaves, the blues and grays of the water were so saturated, that the color itself was palpable.
As he set his lead to the paper, he heard an unfamiliar rustle in the tress and shrubs. He cocked his head slightly, but did not move otherwise. From under the lush bush, a small gray and silver dog walked out. Jack couldn’t divert his gaze. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually saw a dog. The small dog trotted up to him, its tail wagging in a circular motion, like the propeller of an airplane. Jack put the things down that he held, as the dog sidled up to him.
“Hey there little feller. Where did ya come from?” He reached over the dog and placed his arm across its back, as the dog laid down next to him, resting his head on Jacks leg. “Sure are a cute one…sweet Jesus look at those brown eyes on ya.” The small dog’s eyes were in fact large and brown, but Jack could not discern if they held contentment or sadness. The dog let out a large sigh and its eyes closed slowly. Before the animal drifted off on Jack’s lap, the eyes opened widely, the nose started twitching and sniffing. Jack looked around, but could see nothing, or no one around them, but the dog was already standing now, looking off toward the hill that lead to home. Softly, and carried on the warm, sweet wind, a whistle came. The small dog’s excitement grew as the sound came closer. In an instant, the dog was off, running at full bore up the hill. Shielding his eyes from the brilliant sun, he walked quickly after the dog, and stopped only when he saw the figure of a man at the top of the hill.
Jack stood still as the dog ran and leapt into the arms of the man. There was visible and tangible feeling flowing from the two creatures as they swirled and whirled. It came out of them as light and incandescence. Jack stood and watched this, but did not share their feelings. He knew that the man and his dog were together again, but he was still alone. He turned from the scene, his heart growing heavy again. He knew he would not write today. He knew the colors would not be the same now.
“Thank you Jack…for taking care of him.” I extended my hand toward him. He turned slowly, and pushed his black Resistol back.
Jack extended his hand and grasped mine. “Not a problem. Real nice dog. How do you know my name?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, and shake my head. “You would not believe how many people know you Jack…or the things that have been done in your name.” I bent down to put Rupert on the ground. “I do have to say, that I always hoped I would find my dog again, but I never thought I would find you.”
Hands still clasped, Jack continued to look at me with a mixture of bemusement and concern. “I’m sorry; I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Scott.” I gave our connected hands a firm shake.
“Um…pleased to meetcha Scott. How did ya find this place?” Jack glanced over at Rupert, who was rolling around in the grass, scratching some non-itchy itch that I suspected was just an excuse for him to roll around in the grass.
“Well, I’ve been around for while, but was really lost. I didn’t know where I was for the longest time. You see Jack, I put myself here. I didn’t wait to for an invitation. I guess it made this journey a little harder in the end.”
Jack nodded in agreement. “I felt the same way. Used ta think I put myself here, but I know better now.”
“You want to walk for a while?” I asked him.
“Sure, sure…”
“Rupert, let’s go.” He jumped up from the grass and followed Jack and I up the hill. We walked for a long while. I told him all the stories about how his and Ennis tale had affected people. Sometimes he laughed: Sometimes he got mad. He thought it was funny that people wanted to write stories about him and Ennis. He couldn’t understand what they had done that was so special, or why people were so interested in them, but I tried to explain it as best I could. We must have walked for miles and miles, but neither we nor Rupert seemed at all fatigued by the trek. We came through a large stand of trees, where a small path led us out to a stone bridge over sparklingly clean water. The sun, glinting off the water, blinded us for a moment.
“It’s about time you guys showed up!” The voice was instantly familiar to me, but I had feared to harbor hope that I would hear it again. Rupert bolted from my side, and ran across the bridge.
“Jack, I have to leave you now.” I could see the sadness in his eyes, but I knew that he would have this moment soon. “Jack…thanks again…for everything. You’ve done more than you can possibly know.”
Jack nodded in reply. In moments, I felt those arms around me. The ones that had kept me safe from everything but myself, but now, they made me feel safe from even that. Safe, and home. With Rupert jumping up and down around our legs, we crossed the bridge, but before I stepped off, I looked backwards, a character flaw I had always hated about myself. This time, however, it gave peace. Jack was sitting on the other side, his notebook open, and his lead moving swiftly across the page. How I wish I could see what he was writing. Even as this image was fading, and we were moving beyond the place where Jack was, I saw the man approach the bridge we had just left. Jack rose and met him in the middle. Like the end of a movie, this image faded away, but left me smiling.
1112 words
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