The Hollow Men - Episode 19
Drew drives through his regretful past, the present slaps him hard in the face and a skeleton dog assigns him a mission.
Last week in Episode 18 a forest was planted in Gardendale, trends in the oil field caught Drew's attention, but money was still flowing like oil.
Daisy’s last day
I was with Daisy Keller on May 12, 1982, the day she died. I didn’t intend for that to happen, but it did.
Sometimes on the way home from work I drive by Andrea’s house. It’s not exactly on the way home, but it’s not so far out of the way I wonder about myself for doing it. I just do it, for no real reason. Well, okay, I do it for a reason. I do it because I wonder about what I lost when I lost Andrea and I wonder if I will ever find it again. Somedays are worse than others and it is on those days I end up driving by the Keller’s house. I don’t slow down, I just drive on by. I guess it is a reminder of a better time for me.
May 12, 1982 was one of those days that I drove by their house. I turned onto Tanglewood and drove towards their house. About a couple of hundred feet ahead of me was a car, a late model Cutlass Supreme, nothing spectacular or unique about it, there must have been a thousand Cutlass Supremes in Odessa during the late 70’s. It was a ’75 or later model because it had rectangular headlights.
I’m not thinking about much at all when it all comes down. The Cutlass is driving past the Keller’s house when I see a blonde blur run out from the side of the Keller’s house. I know what it is as soon as I see it. It is Daisy, she’s managed to get out of the back yard and is running right towards the Cutlass. I don’t know what she’s trying to do, but it is all over before it really started. Daisy manages to get a little ahead of the car, the driver hits the brake, but not fast enough and the car hits Daisy straight on its right side. Daisy bounces off the car hard, flips through the air and lands on the road with a thump and a whine. The car nearly comes to a stop, but doesn’t, then the driver hits the accelerator and drives off down the street, turns at the nearest corner and is gone. As the car disappears the license plate 117 FJT is burned into my mind.
I’m stunned but my body takes over. I pull the truck to the side of the road and jump out. I run to Daisy, who’s lying on her side in a growing pool of her own blood. I drop to the ground as I say her name “Daisy.” She lifts her head up, sniffs the air, recognizes me and swishes her tail as she whines pitifully. I lift her gently into my arms and hold her as I talk to her.
“It’s all right, girl, it’s all right. I’ll take care of you, I’ll get you to the vet and everything will be all right, just hold on, just hold on.”
“Sorry, Drew, afraid I can’t. I’m hurt a little too much for this world.”
I heard her in my mind. She wasn’t speaking in the real world. The only sounds in the real world she was making was the sound of her labored breathing and a pitiful whine. I heard her in my mind.
“No, Daisy, no. Don’t say that. It’s all right. I’m here, let me take care of you.”
“Too late, Drew, too late. It was good here, but I can’t stay.” Daisy lifter her head to look at me, then licked my hand.
“Tell them I’m gonna miss them. Tell them not cry too hard. Tell them I’m all right.”
She shivered, sighed and her eyes began to glaze over.
“Oh! Drew, it’s a lovely field, just lovely, filled with little flowers and big trees. It’s so warm, the sun is shining on every thing. Oh, look, there’s another dog and he’s calling to me. It looks like he’s wearing big socks. I want to run, Drew, I want to run.”
And she did. She ran hard as she took her last breath and as I held her close and petted her, rubbing her ears like I did on that first night I met her. One last twitch, and she was still. I felt her leave her body and I saw her running in the field with Socks.
“Daisy!” The anguished cry came from the Keller’s house. It was Mrs. Keller and she was running out the front door to Daisy, but she slowed to a walk as she reached the curb.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t save her.” I said as tears streamed down my face. “She’s fine, she’s fine now. She’s out running in a field, she asked me to say goodbye for her.”
I have always known there were certain things you didn’t tell people about. I had never told anyone about my field dreams, of Tommy and of Socks. There’s just some things you don’t tell people about, unless you like them looking at you in a strange way, unless you like hearing people whisper about you as you walk by. This was one of those things, but the pain had been so much I lost control and without thinking I had told Andrea’s Mom that I had talked to Daisy as she died and that she asked me to say goodbye to this world for her.
All Andrea’s Mom could do was look at me, sitting in the street, holding a dead dog in my arms, crying my eyes out and babbling insane nonsense as dog blood seeped into my jeans and shirt. Then a strong maternal instinct kicked in.
“Drew, are you okay? I saw what happened from the kitchen window, I just couldn’t move, I couldn’t. I saw Daisy dash out, I saw the car hit her… then I saw you run to her…” She bit her lip, trying to stop her own tears, but it didn’t work.
I realized where I was and that in this land that I was a stranger in I had to act normal. I had to act normal.
I stood up, holding Daisy in my arms and asked her calmly “Where can I take her? Do you think you want to bury her in your back yard? Or, I can take her away for you?” Then I glanced around desperately as a new thought came into my mind. “Where’s Dale? He didn’t see this, did he?”
That woke up Mrs. Keller.
“No, no, Dale’s at little league practice.” She looked absently around the street and back to her house. I follow the track of her eyes and I see the side gate to their back yard opened just a bit. I see it all now, Dale must have run out of the back yard when he left for practice, slamming the gate behind him as he ran, not noticing the gate didn’t latch closed. Who knows why Daisy didn’t run after him, but she didn’t. Who knows why she waited to run out and chase after the car in front of me, but she did.
“Mrs. Keller.” No response. “Mrs. Keller.” Still no response. I say it a little firmer this time, dropping my voice an octave or two. “Mrs. Keller.” This time she heard me and turned back to me. I notice that some of the neighbors have walked out into the street to see what had happened. I walk over to Mrs. Keller and motion to her to walk with me as I walk over to her front yard. As I do I say quietly to her, so no one else can hear “Dale can never think it was his fault. But we owe him a chance to say goodbye. He can’t come home and not find Daisy here… Let me clean her up a bit, clean myself up a bit, too. If you want, I can be here when he gets back, maybe make it easier for him. I’ve had to deal with a good pet dying when I was younger than him.” I didn’t tell her I didn’t deal with that situation all that well, but she didn’t need to know that, she just needed to know that a boy needs to say goodbye to his dog.
Mrs. Keller continued to have a blank stare as we walked to her house, but she heard me and she nodded her head yes.
“You’re right, Drew. Dale needs to say goodbye. Take Daisy to the back yard.”
I did, walking through the open gate. In the backyard, I walked over to Daisy’s dog house. Not that she ever spent the night outside, she was a house dog through and through, but as Mr. Keller once told me one evening when I was over at their house for a barbecue “Daisy has her vacation home out here in the yard for those days she needs some time away from us.”
I laid Daisy down on the ground in front of her house, then went back to the house, unrolled the hose and turned the water on to a little more than a trickle. Mrs. Keller came out of the house with several old towels for Daisy and me. As I cleaned Daisy up, Mrs. Keller watched us from the back porch.
After several minutes I felt I was about done. I was drying Daisy off as best as I could with a clean towel when I heard Mr. Keller’s truck pull up in the driveway and into the garage. I looked up to see if Mrs. Keller had noticed. She hadn’t but she noticed me looking at her and my motioning towards the house. She stood up and walked back into the house. A little more than a minute later Mr. Keller came running into the backyard. He reached Daisy, then was frozen, standing and looking down at her.
“She didn’t suffer. She went quickly.”
“You were there when she died.”
“Yes, sir. I saw the accident.”
“You saw who hit her?”
“Yes, it was a Cutlass, ’75 or later.”
“Damn.”
There was nothing to say to that. The two of us just stood there, looking down at Daisy for I don’t know long.
Then Dale came home from baseball practice. His mother talked to him in the house but he then walked out in the backyard. It broke my heart to see him walking to us. I’m sure it broke his Dad’s heart, too. He walked slowly, like a broken little man. Before he reached us he began to take big sobbing breaths, deep, long and filled with sorrow. Dale stood between his Dad and me and looked down on Daisy. I didn’t know what to say, and I guessed that Mr. Keller felt there was nothing right to say so the two of us stood there quietly while Dale cried.
Then the sadness turned to anger. Dale took a deep breath and looked at me.
“Mom said you saw it happen.”
“Yes, Dale, I did.”
“You’ll get them Drew, won’t you? You’ll make sure they’ll pay for this?”
I wasn’t used to making promises but I knew this was one I would have to hold true to.
“Dale, I promise. I’ll find them and I will make them pay.”
Mr. Keller looked at me as I made my promise. The look in his eyes was a sad one, he knew I had no choice but to promise Dale, he also knew that I would have a hard time living up to my promise.
“Dale, I think we’ll bury Daisy right here in the backyard, over there by her tree. She’ll like it there.”
Dale nodded his head slowly.
Mr. Keller walked slowly over and into the garage. He came out with a shovel in his hand.
“Mr. Keller, why don’t you let me start digging while you and Dale get changed into something a little more appropriate for this kind of work?”
He took me up on the offer and while I started digging, Mr. Keller and Dale walked into their house.
A good thirty minutes must have passed before Dale and Mr. Keller returned to the back yard. I based that off how deep a hole I had dug and how much I had sweated. It was good dirt in the Keller’s back yard, easy to dig, but firm enough so that a hole would not collapse in on itself. Mrs. Keller accompanied them with a large pitcher of water and four glasses. As I handed the shovel to Mr. Keller, she poured me a glass of water. I drank all of it in a series of continuous swallows.
Mr. Keller dug for about fifteen minutes and then handed the shovel to Dale, who by this time was itching to do something to get his mind off what had happened that day. Dale dug with an intense fury that I recognized in myself, the desire to do something so hard that it would exhaust you, until you could not move or think or dream, until all you could do was fall fast asleep, praying that no dreams would come your way that night.
“That’s deep enough, Dale, that’s deep enough.”
Dale kept digging, throwing dirt in a high arc over his shoulder. Mr. Keller stepped down into the hole and placed one hand on Dale’s shoulder, waited a second, then grabbed the shovel about halfway up the shaft as Dale lifted up a final shovel full of dirt.
“That’s deep enough. Dale, no need to dig any more.”
Dale cried out, dropped the shovel, turned and hugged his Dad. The two of them stood there for a minute or two, holding onto each other as hard as they could in the hole the three of us had dug.
Mr. Keller came back to life first. “Drew, help me with Daisy.” I nodded my head yes and walked over to Daisy. Mr. Keller let go of his son and while standing in the hole leaned over to where Daisy lay. I picked her up then handed her over to Mr. Keller. Dale stood by his Dad and did his part, helping Mr. Keller lay Daisy down in the hole. Dale squatted down by Daisy, petting her gently while he cried.
Finally, Mr. Keller placed his hand on Dale’s shoulder and leaned over and lifted Dale up to his feet. Dale struggled in his arms but Mr. Keller didn’t let go, he practically lifted Dale up and out of the hole and handed him over to Mrs. Keller. Dale didn’t resist any more and collapsed into his mother’s arms.
“Mr. Keller, I’ve caught my breath, hand me the shovel.”
He looked at me for a moment, nodded his head, handed me the shovel and stepped out of the hole.
I walked over to the pile of dirt, laid the shovel into it, and tossed the first shovel into the hole and onto Daisy. I worked quickly and quietly, covering Daisy as fast as I could. I worked neatly, packing the dirt in smoothly. All I could hear was the sound of Dale muffled crying.
Soon I was nearly done. Daisy was laid to rest and I was smoothing out the dirt.
“Drew, thank you. You’ve done enough. Dale and I need to finish this job.”
I handed the shovel to Mr. Keller. I watched the two of them work for a while, then decided it was time for me to leave. I wasn’t part of this family and I had invaded their home a little too much this day. Dale and Mr. Keller were absorbed in their work so I nodded to Mrs. Keller and started walking for the side gate. I was pushing open the gate when I was nearly tackled by Dale. I turned around and he hugged me hard. Not knowing what to say or do, I placed my arms around him.
Dale looked at me with a hard, cold stare and said “Drew, you get the son-of-a-bitch that did this, get him.”
“I will, Dale, I will.”
He let go of me and walked back to his family. I walked out of the Keller’s yard, closed and latched the gate and walked out to my truck. A minute later I was driving home.
Ten minutes later I was home. Mom gasped when I walked into the kitchen, Daisy’s blood on my shirt and jeans. I told her what happened, that I was all right and that I was sorry I was late. I didn’t have to explain anything to Dad as he hadn’t come home from work yet.
I took off my jeans and shirt and left them soaking in the bathroom sink while I showered. As I dried off I could smell Mom warming up dinner for Dad and me. Dad was sitting at the table eating dinner when I walked into the kitchen. He looked up for a minute, asked how my day had gone. I told him fine, that we had sold ten tanks today. He smiled, motioned for me to sit down. We ate in silence.
In a dark field
That night I dreamed of a field, but not the field I was used to visiting in my dreams. This field was dark, the sky was full of anger, dark clouds rolling by, a harsh wind ripping through the land. The land was desolate, barren, too much like Odessa to be much of a heaven to me. The thunder hurt my ears and the lightning flashes confirmed to me this was a new and different land. And I was alone. No dogs, no Tommy, no one. No glow in the distance, I was alone.
It began to hail and there was no cover to be found, no trees, no overhang, nothing. Golf ball size hail falling from the sky. For a minute or two I was able to dodge the hail, but the pace picked up and I was pelted, bruised with each hit. One hail stone cut across my cheek and I began to bleed.
I desperately wanted to wake up, to come back to life. But not yet, the dream still had a hold of me. Above the sound of the thunder, I heard another sound. It was a dog howling in the night. Somehow I was able to tell what direction the sound was coming from and I walked, dodged, ran my way toward it. I ran for minutes, till my lungs nearly burst. I came upon a small hill and I as I ran around it I found a skeleton dog, sitting on its haunches, howling to the night, to the storm, to the devil itself. Skeleton dog saw me, then began to trace with its skeleton paw in the wet soil. I watched it spell letter by letter “avenge me.”
Then the dream was over. I woke up in a cold sweat, drenched to the skin, with the words “avenge me” echoing in my ear. It was 3:00 am. I had two hours before it was time to get up and get ready for work. I laid back down, closed my eyes and in a few minutes I fell hard asleep. The alarm didn’t wake me this morning. It was my Dad, leaning in my doorway, saying “Damn it, Drew. Wake up or I’m going to break that damn clock.” I woke up, not that I was afraid of losing my clock, it was just time to get up.
Thursday, the day after Daisy died, was a long day. Throughout the day I had been thinking about how I could live up to the promise I made to Dale.
I tried to put myself into the mind of the driver of the Cutlass that had hit Daisy. Most people drive to a destination so I assumed this person was driving somewhere yesterday. If I was right, the drive along Tanglewood was part of their daily drive at that time of day. I also guessed it would be awhile before one would see the Cutlass on Tanglewood. If the driver thought like me, I would avoid Tanglewood for awhile, long enough that people would forget about what happened that day when a Cutlass Supreme met up with a dog. Last I saw it, the Cutlass took a hard right at Cambridge. My guess is that it then turned left on Westbrook or Wedgewood. That’s where I would start my search.
I drove home the long way, seeing if I could learn anymore about who killed Daisy. Versus going down Tanglewood this day I drove Westbrook looking for a Cutlass Supreme, but I didn’t see one.
The evening went quietly and around 9:00 I decided to go to bed. Not long after that I fell asleep I was back in the dark field. The sky was just as dark and threatening, but no hail tonight, just rain, hard, slashing rain, pelting me until I was soaked. Skeleton dog came out to see me this time, walking haltingly in the rain to me.
Skeleton dog talked to me.
“Avenge me, find the one who killed me. Avenge me.”
“Come on, what do you want me to do, kill them?”
“Look in your heart, you will know where to look, you will know what to do.”
That wasn’t much help. Damn if the sun didn’t start shining then. Shining so harsh and bright I was blinded by it.
“You are the dog man.”
Couldn’t be the walrus, nope, instead I am the dog man. By this point, I fully expected the Magical Mystery Tour bus to pull up beside me. Instead, I woke up.
Friday was little different than Thursday. On the way home I drove down Wedgewood with no better luck. Rick and I went out that night for a couple of hours, winding up at Woody’s Bar and Grill near Dixie and University around 10:00 pm. We drank a pitcher apiece, then headed home.
For the third night in a row I met with Skeleton dog. This night he/she (I didn’t know about enough the anatomy of dogs to tell from just a skeleton) told me “Until my killer is found we shall meet.”
Every night for the next 10 days I met with Skeleton dog in the dark field. Every day I looked for Daisy’s killer and every night I went home knowing that Skeleton dog would be waiting for me in my dreams.
Another two weeks had passed before luck turned my way. I was driving down the highway 80 access road towards home when I saw a Cutlass Supreme, license plate 117 FJT, turn right on Pagewood Avenue.
I floored the accelerator and my truck nearly leaped off the road in its excitement of being called to action. I careened onto Pagewood at 50 miles an hour, my tires screaming as I slid around the corner. A block ahead of me I saw the Cutlass. I started to shift up when an image exploded into my brain. In my mind’s eye I saw a small bike come rolling down a driveway and onto the street, stabilized by training wheels the young rider rolled right in front of my truck. There was no chance to stop.
In the real world I dropped my truck into neutral and tapped my brakes to slow gracefully down. Ahead of me, déjà vu occurred. As my truck came to a stop, I watched as the young boy, not more than six years old, rolled out into the street on his bike, but this time he was safe. He waved at me as he rode into the street, nearly falling over as he lifted one hand off the handle bars. Behind him ran a young woman. She caught up to him and in an adrenalin surge she picked him and the bike up in her arms and carried him back to their driveway.
I broke out into a sweat. If it hadn’t been for the vision of the bike rolling in front of me, I would have been in the same boat as the driver of the Cutlass Supreme, caught driving too fast to stop and having to live with the horrible consequences. The Cutlass was gone, out of sight and Skeleton dog awaited me in my dreams.
That night Skeleton dog had a new message.
“Do not become the one you seek.”
I took that rather literally. I had to avenge Skeleton dog, but not get so caught up in it that I became no better than the driver who had killed Daisy. I became a very safe driver for the next several weeks.
I went to work. I sold tanks. I drove home and looked for the Cutlass Supreme. Every night in my dreams, Skeleton dog was there.
Then Wednesday, June 16, 1982 arrived. I was driving home, searching for the Cutlass, but honestly not expecting to find it. The search had become rather hopeless, but I kept searching just so I wouldn’t have to listen to Skeleton dog complain every night.
I turned down Wedgewood, and barely half a block ahead of me was the Cutlass Supreme. I slowed down, staying about five car lengths behind it. It pulled to a stop at Cambridge, then turned left. I followed it. When it came to Tanglewood, one block past the Keller’s house, it turned right. I followed it down Tanglewood for two blocks and watched as it turned into a driveway. I pulled over two houses down from it and watched as the car came to a stop and the driver, a young woman, stepped out of the car and walked into the house.
I sat in my truck for a good five minutes, until I started to sweat from the heat and sun. It was time to complete my mission. I got out of my truck, locked the door and walked up to the Cutlass Supreme. I walked over to the right front fender, knelt down and traced my hand over where the paint was scratched and a slight dent could be seen. I closed me eyes and I fell back in time, to the day Daisy died. I saw it all again. My eyes welled up. I opened my eyes, wiped the tears away, stood up, walked to the front door and knocked.
A few seconds passed before I could hear the door lock unlatch. The door opened to a crack and I could see her looking at me.
“What do you want?”
“I need to talk to you about an accident that happened down the street a little over a month ago.”
She took a deep breath.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do. Your Cutlass Supreme, license plate 117 FJT, was driving on Tanglewood about a block and a half down when a dog, a big lab, ran out into the street. You couldn’t stop and you hit it. I was right behind you and I saw it all.”
The door opened slowly. She stood there, a little older than me if I guessed right, her right hand on the door knob, her eyes looking down to the ground.
“What do you want?”
Truth was I didn’t know. I had found Daisy’s killer, but I didn’t know what to do. I thought back to one of the first things Skeleton dog told me. “Look in your heart, you will know what to do.”
I looked into my heart and I didn’t find anything.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit the dog. I couldn’t stop in time. Is it okay?”
“The dog’s dead, died in my arms.”
“Oh, my God..” She began to cry, then she began to sob. What was I to do? What did Skeleton dog want from me?
As she cried I began to hear another sound. This sound came from the back of my head. It was a voice, a voice from the past. At first I couldn’t understand the words, but soon I heard the rhythm of the same words being repeated over and over, then, bit by bit, word by word it all became clear.
The voice was chanting over and over again “First God forgives, then your fellow man, then you forgive yourself.” It was Tommy’s voice and what I heard was what he had told me in my dream the night of his funeral.
I looked at her. Her face was streaked with her tears and her eyes were staring deep into me. I began to see words in my head, the words I was supposed to say.
“I don’t know if they can forgive you. They loved Daisy. That was the dog’s name. So did I. It will be a long while before the young boy will be able to let go of the sadness and the anger you caused. The best I can offer you today is I forgive you. You’re hurting, but neither you or I can fix what happened. All we can do is let it go. Just let it go. God has forgiven you, I forgive you. Now you need to let go and forgive yourself.”
Truth was, I didn’t believe in God that day, but I had to say those words. I turned around and walked back to my truck, got in and drove away. I never saw her again. I made sure of it because I never drove down Tanglewood again.
“I forgive you. I forgive you.” ran through my mind as I drove home. God damn! I forgave a stranger for something I couldn’t even forgive my best friend for. I drove down 11th street and pulled over at 1715 E. 11th, Rick’s house. I walked up to the front door, knocked and waited. Rick’s Dad opened the door.
“Drew, well, hello, haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Anders. Has Rick made it home yet?”
“No, not yet. This morning he said was going to drop by the golf course and hit some balls after work. I’m guessing that’s where he’s at. How’s the tank business?”
“It’s good, I’m still surprised how it’s working out. I got to give the credit to Rick, he figured it out.”
Rick’s Dad was practically beaming with pride, it felt good to see him so happy.
“Tell Rick to give me a call when he gets home. I figured out something on the way home that I want him to know about.”
“Sure thing, Drew. Say hello to your parents for us.”
“I’ll do, sir. Thanks and take care.”
I walked back to my truck, climbed in, and drove the rest of the way home.
Mom had dinner ready when I walked in, and Dad was only a few minutes behind me. We ate quietly, having little to say to each other. I helped Mom clean the kitchen while Dad watched TV in the living room.
A little after 8:00 pm the phone rang, I got up and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Drew, this is Rick. My Dad said you forgot to tell me something.”
“Yeah, I did.” I paused for a moment, I’ve never been good at telling people I’m sorry. “Yeah, I did. Look, Rick, you remember when you hit that dog on the way home from Golden Acres back when we were in high school?”
”Yeah, of course I do. Hell, I saved our lives, and all I got from you and Tommy was a bunch of grief.”
“I know, I’m sorry. You did what you thought was right. I realize that now.”
“Oh, all right. Was that it?”
Was that it? Didn’t he realize I don’t make apologies? Didn’t he realize how difficult it was for me to admit I was wrong? Was that it?
“Yeah, that was it.”
“You know, you’re almost there.”
“What do you mean?”
“First God forgives, then your fellow man, then you forgive yourself.”
“What! What did you say?” I heard him clearly. Rick had said exactly what Tommy had said years ago and what Tommy’s voice had said in my head that afternoon when I met the woman who had killed Daisy. How in the hell did Rick know what I had heard this afternoon?
“You know what I said. You know what it means. You need to forgive yourself for holding a grudge against me. Hell, I’m cool. I don’t waste my time worrying if you are angry with me. There’s too much else going on in the world for me to worry about that. But you need to let it go, just let it go. Hell, it’s quarter beer night, what do you say we hoist a few before 10:00 pm?”
We hoisted a few and I let it go. I let it all go. I didn’t spend any more time thinking that night where the voice came from, why the voice in my head said the same thing that Rick told me. I just let it go.
That night I went to sleep wondering what Skeleton dog would have to say. He/she never showed up. and when I woke the next morning I could not remember any dreams.
Author’s note
Another long episode this week where things admittedly got strange. As we move into the final half of The Hollow Men, things will get increasingly strange for Drew, Rick, VP Tanks and west Texas.
Next week in Episode 20, Uncle Bill is nervous, Rick is in an accident, Matt Johnson wants Rick and Drew to insure themselves and Drew notices a change in Rick.