Gonna Lay Down My Burdens

I

Gonna Lay Down My Burdens

Lee leaned back until his spine hit the ground. Feeling the hard surface took him by surprise, he didn’t realize he was drunk. Grady stood in the corner of the park smoking a cigarette. He was lean, his figure made a sharp line against the darkening sky. The day had started with Lee cutting out on work, because Kyle hadn’t had a job all week, and Grady had the day off. It had started with a beer and a couple of rounds of pool at the Dixie Chicken that turned into Kyle and Lee dropping depth charges after Chip had come in with a bottle of Jack Daniels, sealed and begging to be cracked open. Lee shivered from a sense of deja-vous. It was like being in high school; a fun feeling for a moment, but not a period in Lee’s life he wanted to relive.
Kyle had positioned himself on the bridge just over the creek that split open the front end of the park. A reed pole in hand and quart of beer resting against his thigh. His steel-toed boots sank into the plant-dotted green surface of the water.
“There aren’t any fish,” Lee tried to stand, only to have his back feel the ground again. He moved his head high enough that he could swig from the bottle of Jack he cradled against his body. It took concentration, deliberate messages to his head to lift, then to his arm to move the bottle to his mouth.
“Kyle caught something once,” Grady broke the silent image he made.
“A turtle,” Kyle remembered. “Wanted a piece of my finger for taking him out of the water. You’re drunk, Lee.”


“Yep,” Lee answered. “Didn’t mean to,” he said. “Grady,” he managed to tilt his head so that he could focus on Grady.
“What?” Grady spoke with a surprising amount of irritation.
“This is like high school,” Lee struggled to sit and took another swig of Jack.
“Unfortunate,” Grady said.
The branches of the trees were moving closer to Lee. He felt stifled, almost as though he were going to suffocate. “Help,” he tried to yell, but the words barely came out. “Grady,” he called out again, only it sounded more like ‘Gayee.’
“You tripping?” Grady asked.
“I’m clean,” Lee made a crooked ‘x’ over his heart with the only arm he could move as a sign of swearing the truth.
“Can’t let you off the leash,” Grady flicked the ashes from his cigarette onto Lee’s helpless body.
“When I die,” Kyle spoke from the bridge, “Spread my ashes on the top of Pike’s peak.”
Grady dropped to a position squatting just above Lee. “You gonna die?” He asked Kyle.
“Yep,” Lee answered.
Grady extinguished the cigarette and stretched next to Lee. “I’m not going to die,” he said.
“How much shit you have?” Kyle asked.
“Nothing,” Grady’s voice made Lee’s head tighten. “I’m free,” Grady boasted. “I’m single, and I don’t have to try to recapture that sense of freedom you boys do. I’ve held onto it my entire life.”

Lee managed to laugh. He managed to say something like, “You’ll get tangled in a mess.”
“Bet?” Grady dared.
“Fags,” Kyle yelled. Lee looked up, and Kyle was standing. The pole had disappeared into the shadowy evening, and Kyle grinned like a friggin’ kid.
Grady leaned against Lee so that their heads were touching. “Jealous,” Grady flipped Kyle the bird.
“Try it sometime,” Lee made drunken attempt at a joke. He rolled against Grady, but the movement made his stomach churn, and he quickly rolled back the other way.
“You afraid?” Grady poked the question at Lee.
“Sick,” Lee said.
“No one’s been sick at the notion of being with me,” He gave Lee a quick kiss on the forehead, then jumped to his feet. “In case you vomit,” he explained.
Lee wanted to haul back and hit Grady, but when he tried, he was too dizzy. “Kyle,” he yelled. “Beat up your brother.”
1 “Naw,” Kyle said. “My mother would make me go to bed without dinner.” They were silent for a moment. They had been silent half of the afternoon, but this time the silence seemed strained. “I wonder what Marta’s doing?”
Lee held in the urge to tease Kyle about being lovesick. Lee knew if he did, Kyle wouldn’t show affection to Marta in public. One of Kyle’s golden rules, don’t show any emotion, it gives the enemy an upper hand. Marta had been the only one he had ever broken the rule for.
“Newlyweds,” Lee tossed out.
Lee was beginning to sober. He was beginning to conquer his stomach. He pulled in long deep breaths and had the overwhelming need to piss. “I’m going to the bushes,” he said. He had to use Grady as a brace to climb to his feet. He had to stand a minute to gather some bearings.
When he walked, Kyle shadowed Lee, giving him enough distance that he could have privacy, but close enough he could intervene if there was any trouble. It was another one of Kyle’s rules, don’t leave your ass uncovered. Ever. The rule started as a pattern established when they were young. Over time, the pattern evolved and became second nature, after many bad experiences. Experience was the way he, Kyle and Grady acquired most of their knowledge. Living and learning, probably the hardest way to learn anything, but the knowledge they gained by firsthand experience gave Lee a confidence in what he believed and what he did. Everything he knew, he knew was true. No myths handed out by generations to control them when they were young or extended by authority to maintain a meek society. Lee trusted his instincts, what he learned through experience, and Kyle and Grady. More than most people had, Lee thought.
Grady made the call to go home.
Before Lee folded into the car, Grady started laying the ground rules. “Lee’s up front,” he said. “If you’re going to vomit, roll out of the car.”
Lee kept his hand on the lever to open the door to the car. He felt Grady was serious about rolling out if he was sick. The first two times Grady had been sick, Kyle rolled him out of the truck and onto the street, then drove to the corner to make Grady think he was being left. Lee had laughed long and hard at Grady. Grady was always the one who got puking sick, so now it was Grady’s turn to laugh. And Lee was in Grady’s car, a vintage Karmen Ghia. The upholstery and paint were all original. It was the first and only new car Grady had ever owned.

The Cardinal

The Cardinal

The old man sat in the shade of a pecan tree. His hands leisurely cracked some of the pecans scattered near him. As he sat, he spoke to the cardinal in the tree above him. The cardinal moved closer, and by the end of the day, the man coaxed the bird to sit on his shoulder.

"You are such a pretty bird," the man spoke softly so he would not scare the animal. "Would you like a pecan?" His hands extended the meat of a nut.

The bird accepted the offering and carried it into the limbs of the tree.

"Come back when you are ready for more."

Soon, the bird returned, expecting another treat.

"You are lucky you came when you did, it is late, and I must leave." He gave the bird a sliver of the last nut he had cracked, and again, the bird took it to the tree. "Come visit me, tomorrow, and I will give you more." And the man pushed himself from the ground, using the trunk of the tree to stabilize himself. "Sometime, I should rise without the pain and effort of age."

And the man started home.

He walked on the dirt shoulder of the road leading to his son's house. Occasionally, his shuffling feet dislodged a loose rock and skipped into the road.

"Lift up," he man's attention focused on his leges. "Before you ruin my shoes."

By the time he reached home, the moon had replaced the sun.

"Jadek, where have you been?" Maria, his daughter-in-law pulled him into the house. "Hurry and wash, your dinner is getting cold."

"Always rushing, you need to take your time."

"You are old and can talk of time, but there is a shortage of it for me."

"Humph," Jadek pushed his arms toward the floor. "I was delayed by a friend."

Maria only shook her head.

"What are we having for dinner?" Jadek eased himself into a dining chair.

"You are having sauerkraut, but there are no more potatoes."

"How can I eat it without potatoes?"
"You can eat it with bread."

"The crust is too tough and the caraway seeds hurt my gums."

"The bread is seedless, and I will trim the crust." Maria dodged into the kitchen.

"My throat is dry, I need a beer." Jadek's voice followed her.

Maria smiled and returned with a bottle of beer and a shaker of salt. "Your cabbage is heating." She placed the glass in front of him and began pouring his drink. "Not that way," he tugged on her arm. "Leave it here. It tastes better in a bottle."

Maria relinquished the bottle and allowed him to serve himself.

Soon, she served his dinner. Jadek ate slowly, neatly wiping the last pot. He walked past her and began refilling the sink with water and soap.

"Do not bother yourself about it, I can wash it, later." Maria tried to intervene before the sink was full.

Jadek shook his head, "I am able to wash a little bowl," and he sank the bowl and spoon into the basin.

After he had put away his dishes, Jadek turned the radio to a local station that played polkas early in the morning and late in the evenings, and played country-western music during the rest of the day. Satisfied with the polka chosen, he settled into his favorite stuffed chair, stretching his legs and propping them on an embroidered stool. This was his favorite time, Maria was upstairs, reading to her daughter, and Walter, his son, was enjoying a few beers in the back room of the local store.

Jadek's eyelids drew together, and his mind drifted back to the time when his wife was alive. They would sit on the porch swing, music wrapping around them, and he would ask her to dance. She would blush, even as her hair turned gray, he could make her blush. And they would dance, crickets and tree frogs sounding their approval. It was a wonderful memory, but one that was slowly escaping him. Even now, he could not remember his wife as the young woman he married, and his heart mourned the loss.

"Nadia," he called. "Why do you leave me? My dearest Nadia, am I so old?"

And he waited for the answers he had buried in his heart until he fell into a deep sleep.

In his sleep, he dreamed. He dreamed of his wife, not as a person, but as the cardinal he befriended. She spoke to him of the day they were married, of the dress she wore, the ribbons that flowed from the wreath haloing her hair, and the white lilies she carried as a bouquet. She told him about his hair, the curls, unruly; one long one falling on his forehead, about the nick on his cheek where he had been nervous shaving. In his sleep, he saw her face. She was young. Her eyes clear and blue. Her skin soft and creamy. Her dark hair braided and wrapped around the back of her head. He remembered his Nadia.

Walter returned home long past midnight. His belly filled with beer, his mind drowsied by alcohol.

"Papa, wake up." Walter's study hand shook his father. "Wake up, go to bed."

"Why do you bother me to go to bed?" Jadek mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Time for bed," Walter persisted. When there was no response, Walter slid one hand behind and one beneath his father and lifted him.

Jadek's mind snapped awake. "Let me down, let me go. I am no feeble woman."

The words took time to penetrate Walter's hazy mind, and he stood for several moments, Jadek squirming in his arms, fussing profusely.

"You are a stubborn old mule," Jadek spoke as his feet met the ground. "Now, go to bed."

Walter's head bowed as a scolded child's. "I love you, Papa."

"Then go to bed. Your head is full of beer."

Walter minded his father.

Jadek also went to bed. There, he forced his eyes closed and directed his mind to take him back to his wife. But, all he saw was the darkness. He demanded to speak to the cardinal. Again, there was nothing but the darkness.

When the first blends of morning color arrived, Jadek stood at his window. Today, he would return to the bird. He jammed his legs into his pants and slipped a wrinkled shirt over his had and arms. He rushed through the house, passing Maria as she prepared breakfast.

"Where do you go so early?" Maria stood stuffing the breakfast cakes with their cheese fillings.

"I need to see my friend."

"You need to eat."

Jadek shook his head. "No time."

"Then take something with you."

Jadek nodded, and Maria sprinkled powdered sugar on two cakes she had filled and wrapped them in a napkin. She filled a jar with milk and placed him in a sack.

"Where can I bring your lunch?"

Jadek shrugged. "I will not be hungry."

"How do you know? Tell me where you will be, and I will bring you something. If you are not hungry, you can leave it for the animals."

"No, this will do," and he gathered the sack and left, confident that his cardinal would remain his secret.

When he arrived at his tree, Jadek did not see the bird. His eyes stretched to the highest limbs, but there were no traces of the brilliant red feathers, so he settled beneath the tree to wait.

As Jadek ate the cakes, the bird returned, but it did not go to the old man. Instead, the cardinal hovered in the safety of the limbs.

Jadek glimpsed the red bird. Pleased with his discovery, he smiled and pretended to eat, but his sight remained in the tree.

When the sun cast its smallest shadows, Jadek's patience was rewarded, and the bird flew to his shoulder.

"So, now you are hungry?" I have saved breakfast so we could eat together. You have brought me a great treasure, you have brought me my Nadia." The old man offered pieces of his cake to his friend. "From now on, I will feed you and care for you and you will deliver my Nadia to me."

Jadek stayed with the bird until nightfall.

At his son's house, Jadek did not eat and escaped to his room. There, he spread himself across his bed and tried to sleep. Maria became concerned and went to his room.

"Jadek, how do you feel? What may I get for you?"

"I want to sleep, nothing else."

And Maria left the room.

For what seemed like hours, Jadek stayed in the bed with his eyes closed, but sleep would not come. His limbs tossed and tangled the covers around his body. His temperature rose and when a blanket was lost, it would drop too low. Jadek realized he was too anxious and tried to regulate his breaths, pulling in long, slow lengths of air. He refused his mind's attempts to unload the days' burdens, and in time, he fell asleep.
In his sleep, the cardinal returned, but this time, the bird was on his Nadia's finger. To his delight, she was as a young woman. He spoke to her, and she smiled. His hand stretched to her. Just as they touched, the cardinal was frightened and his Nadia disappeared. Jadek called to her, and his wife returned; her hair gray, her face lined. And the cardinal had gone.

Jadek looked further for his young Nadia, but for tonight, she had left him.

He awakened and was unable to return to sleep. In the darkness, he rose and went to the shed where he stored his tools. Throughout the night, he measured, sawed and hammered, creating a large cage for the cardinal. No longer would the bird fly away. He placed the cage in his granddaughter's wagon and toted it to the tree.

The dark morning hours were spent cracking the pecans and carefully placing the clean nuts in a tiny pile next to him. By the sun rise, he had enough to fill the bottom of the cage.

This day, the cardinal came early and sat directly on Jadek's shoulder, Jadek struggled to contain his excitement.

"Now we are good friends. I know, you see me and you are ready to eat." His voice was cautious and gentle. "I have spent the night preparing you a home with plenty to eat. All the pecans you desire." Carefully, Jadek gave the bird a piece of pecan, and the bird accepted without hesitation. "You will like the home. It has plenty of space, and I can put as many branches in it as you need."

The morning was used for talking to the bird, preparing it to enter the cage. When the moment came, Jadek quickly closed the door. For a moment, the bird did not notice its capture. Then it panicked; its wings catching on the side. It hissed and struggled until it could no longer and finally, it stood on the bottom, surrendering to exhaustion.

"I know it is a change, so difficult, but you will get used to it, we all do." Jadek stayed by the cage, calming the bird. When the night fell, he prepared to leave. "You will stay here. No one will know of you. This cage is sturdy, and you will be safe." And Jadek rose to leave.

When he stood, his legs lifted him without pain or struggle. His feet moved with a simple lilt, his heart beat with a new force.

Maria was surprised when Jadek entered the house; he was humming and stepping to a private dance.

"I am so hungry," these were the first words he spoke.

"The roast will be another hour, but I have some cheese and onions."

"Put it on pumpernickel, and I will have a beer."

Maria shook her head.

When she delivered his snack, Jadek stared at the plate. "Where is the crust?"

"I cut it. You tell me the crust is too tough."

Later, they ate; Jadek, Maria, and Walter. Jadek ate his meal with renewed enthusiasm. Walter and Maria watched with curious pleasure, their eyes occasionally meeting.

For many nights, Nadia came to Jadek in his dreams; there they danced and talked, laughed and remembered.

Jadek's days were spent with the cardinal. After the first days, Jadek noticed the food and water in the cage remained untouched.

"Why do you not eat? What do you want? What can I bring for you?"

The bird hissed more and kept the diameter of the cage between them.

"We are friends. I care for you, I need you. I will give you anything."

More days passed, and the bird still refused offers of sustenance.

"What can I do? If I let you go, you will leave me, and I will lose my Nadia. If you stay and do not eat, you will die." And he watched the bird with great sadness.

During the night, Jadek dreamed. But the dreams were not of his Nadia, they were of a bird flying in the sky, of it nesting with its mate, of the bird watching its young.

Jadek's stomach grew weak, his head tightened, his legs cramped.

"I will let you go, tomorrow, I will free you."

And Jadek spent his night in a restless sleep.

In the morning, his heavy legs carried him to the cardinal. "I am sorry. Forgive this foolish old man." Jadek rested on one knee and removed the bird from the cage. But it did not fly; it was too weak. He tried dropping water into its mouth with a rag, but the cardinal would not swallow. Slowly in his hands, the bird died, and Jadek stroked the beautiful red feathers as his heart filled with pain.

Night fell and Jadek did not return home. Worried, Walter and Maria began to search for him. Hours later, they found him, curled beneath a large pecan tree, his hands cradling a small dead cardinal.

"Papa, it is time to come home."

Jadek did not move, not even to look up, his eyes held only the bird. Walter tried to take the animal, but Jadek's hands clasped tightly around it.

"Let him bring it home," Maria whispered.

And Walter lifted his father and the bird and carried them home.