Walking Backwards - Episode 24
Drew arrives in Crane, Texas, nearly tells the truth, but tells a few lies to cover his tracks, realizes sanctuary can be found in more than one place, and completes his mission.
This is the twenty-fourth episode of Walking Backwards, the third collection of not quite true tales of Texas. Previous collections are:
The Cold Days of Summer - If you are new to these tales and the type who likes to know how things started I would recommend starting here.
The Hollow Men - the second collection of not quite true tales of Texas.
New episodes are posted (almost) every Sunday. You can move easily between episodes via links to the previous and next episode.
If you are new to these not quite true tales of Texas but are the type who likes to dive right in you could start with the prologue to Walking Backwards. The prologue provides a summary of the first two collections and descriptions of the major characters you will be reading about in Walking backwards.
Last week in episode 23 of Walking Backwards, a man falls from the sky and gives Drew a photograph and a mission.
Rising Starr
I took back roads from West Columbia to Boling to Wharton to Eagle Lake and finally to to Columbus. That put me on I-10 where I would be driving west for the next several hours.
I stopped for gas and a stretch in Seguin (just east of San Antonio) and Sonora.
The drive was uneventful save for when I left I-10 at Bakersfield and headed north to McCamey. Still within the sound of the trucks driving hard on I-10 I drove up to the edge of a plateau where there was a turn around. I pulled into the turn around and my truck bounced a little as it came to a stop. I got out, stretched and my legs and looked out onto a drop north and west.
The world lay before me. I could see for miles. The wind blowed not hard, but constant. There was life in the wind but it did not talk to me.
I arrived in Crane around 3:00 pm.
It was easy to find the Best Budget Inn. It was on the main drag, TX 385, which ran north to Odessa and then onto Andrews. It was a one story, almost shotgun type building, 10 rooms on one side, 10 rooms on the other, with the office up front. One side of the motel looked full with several cars and trucks parked in front of the rooms. The other side appeared empty. I went into the office, checked in at the front desk and got my key. I told the clerk I was here for Starr Feeler's funeral and asked if there were any Feeler's staying at the motel. He said yes, that several had checked in over the last couple of days. I thanked him and walked over to the empty side of the motel where my room was. The Feeler clan was on the other side of the motel.
My room was what I expected, clean, but a little run-down. Two beds, a television and small refrigerator in the corner, a desk and bathroom. I brought in everything from the truck and sat down on the one of the beds. I was tired, from the road, the drive, and what I had yet to do. I hadn't thought that much about what I was going to say or do and decided I need a plan of some sort, otherwise I would risk stumbling and bumbling my way through a series of words, phrases and lies that would make sense to no one.
I lay back on the bed, thought through a few things and fell asleep. I was back in the field. Starr and Hunter were waiting for me.
"How was the drive?"
"Good, quiet, listened to a book."
"What book?"
"I, Judas by Taylor Caldwell."
A pause, then Starr said "Care to tell me a little about it? Seems a bit terse to throw out a title like that and provide nothing else."
I laughed. He was right. I was a bit terse.
"It's the story of Jesus through Judas' eyes. Judas is a revolutionary intent on freeing Israel from Rome and when Jesus arrives he is convinced that Jesus is the king of Israel, a warrior king, destined to lead the fight against the Romans. He doesn't feel he betrays Jesus, he feels Jesus betrays his own destiny, that of being a warrior king."
"All right, that's better. Now let's get to the point of my visit. Have you met my parents?"
"No, just got to Crane. Thought I would try to think things through and prepare a bit before I talked to them. I started thinking and next thing I know here I am. How was the town?"
"Good, good. Very nice place. Saw my grandfather. He died nearly twenty years ago. Met a guy named Stan. Says he knows you. He said you need to be careful, that you're still walking along the edge of the cliff."
I guessed he was talking about Stan the Skeleton Man. "How did Stan look? Last time I saw him, he was a bit thin."
"He looks good, like he could take on the world, but he is worried about you. Makes me wonder if you're the right person for the job."
"Maybe I'm not. I don't know what to say to your parents. They're on the other side of the motel. I haven't seen your Mom in over 20 years, can't remember if I ever met your Dad. I don't know how I'm going to explain who I am, why I'm here or why I have a picture of you."
"You're a good liar, just make something up. That ought to do."
"Gee, thanks. Really appreciate your confidence."
"Hey, I was kidding about whether you are the right person for the job. You have to be, because you were there. Just think it through a bit, you'll come up with something that sounds right, you usually do."
I woke up. I was in the motel room in Crane and I had a job to do. I had to think it through.
Thirty minutes later I had a plan. I left my room with Starr's picture in my left hand, walked over to the other side of the motel and picked a door to knock on. I knocked, waited, no one answered. I could hear the television in the room so I suspected someone was in there but they hadn't heard me. I knocked on the next door. It was immediately opened by a man a little older than me.
"Yeah, can I help you?"
"I'm looking for the Feeler's. I heard they are staying here."
"I'm Caleb Feeler."
I looked at the man called Caleb. There was something burning inside him but I could also tell he was worn down, from what I wasn't sure of.
"I'm here for Starr Feeler's funeral. I knew Starr when he lived in Odessa, during junior high. My name is Drew Remington."
I put out my hand. Caleb shook my hand and said "I'm his brother."
I looked at Caleb again and could see him back in the 1970's, about the same height, maybe a few pounds lighter, a little more hair, not as worn down from life.
"You say you know Starr. I don't remember you and can't remember him ever saying your name."
"Like I said, we knew each other in junior high, at Bonham in Odessa. Then you all moved to Crane. Over the years we got back in touch. Nothing much, a letter here and there, a couple of phone calls. Then this week I got a call from another friend saying they had seen his obituary in the Odessa American. I decided to be here and here I am."
It was a pretty good lie but it wasn't clear if Caleb was buying it. He looked skeptical.
"Are your parents here? I wanted to see them. I have something for them, something that Starr sent me a few years back."
I showed Caleb the photograph.
He took it from my hand and asked "Where did you get this?"
"From Starr. He said a friend of his took it a few years back. He thought he looked like James Dean in the photo, remembered I was a big fan of 'East of Eden' – really, I'm a Steinbeck fan, never thought any of the screen adaptions of his writing were all that good – and thought I would like it. When he sent it to me he mentioned that his mother was a big fan of James Dean. When I heard he had died I felt I should bring this to his mother and here I am."
I had rambled more than was needed but I'm not sure if Caleb was listening. He just kept looking at the photograph.
"They're next door," nodding to his left. He handed the photograph back to me. "They're next door. Just knock."
They say a person can age years in a moment. Caleb did in front of my own eyes. He staggered, leaned against the door frame. I placed my hand on his shoulder. He looked up, grabbed it hard, held it in place and said "My Mom will love the picture and that you brought it to her. Here, let me introduce you to them."
There were three people in the room to the left: Caleb's and Starr's parents Johnnie and Cathy Feeler and Jennifer, Caleb's wife. It was an awkward introduction. We shook hands and all was quiet, too quiet. I waited for someone to break the silence, no one did. I stepped in.
"Mr. Feeler, I knew..."
"Call me Johnnie."
"Johnnie, I knew Starr from junior high in Odessa." I looked at Cathy, nodded to her and said "Even met you a couple of times when I came over to your house on 21st street. You probably don't remember me, but I remember you."
She didn't remember me.
I told them both what little I knew and remembered about Starr. He was quiet until he was loud. He had a very dry sense of humor, the kind of sense that would catch you off guard. He would say something and it would just float in the air for a moment before it finally hit you. Then you would laugh hard and uncontrolled. He would just smile as he listened to the laughter. He brought a quiet pleasance to the room but there was always an under current of life, vibrant life to him. Sometimes it was obvious but other times, if you weren't listening, if you were too busy being loud, you didn't notice it at all. I was quiet, always have been and I listened. I heard Starr's current of life, sometimes when no one else did.
When people are in pain, deep pain like this there is really little you can do to ease the pain. I was beginning to wonder why I had come all this way when Cathy spoke.
"What's that in your hand?"
I looked down at Starr's photograph and remembered why I was there. I handed the photo to her and said "Starr gave me this years ago. At the time he said he always planned to give it to you. He thought he looked like James Dean and he said you loved James Dean."
She took the photo, stared at it, touched the photo gently with her hand, outlining Starr's form and began to cry softly.
I didn't know what to do. Caleb put his arm around her and she fell into his arms. Johnnie wrapped his arms around them both and then Jennifer did her best to hold all three of them together so they wouldn’t fall apart. All was quiet save for the gentle sobs of a family mourning the loss of one of their own. I stood alone, quiet, feeling completely out of place.
Finally Johnnie looked up, put his hand out to me and said "You brought a little of Starr back to us. Thank you."
I shook his hand and in one swift, strong movement Johnnie grabbed me and hugged me hard. God, how strong was that man? Strong as anyone, strong as anyone. His head sunk into my shoulder. I felt his tears drop. I realized for the first time that a real man is not afraid to cry.
I spent a lot of time with the Feeler's that night. Mostly I listened. People wanted to talk about Starr and I listened. Around 6:00 pm we went to the local community center for a small remembrance reception. I met a lot of people, forget just as many names, but everyone had something to say about Starr, everyone had memories they wanted to share.
I met Carter Warren Feeler, the thirteen year old son of Caleb and Jennifer. I told him we shared the same middle name, that my name was Andrew Warren Remington, but to call me Drew. I told him that I could see a lot of Starr in him. I met Starr's step-mother, Lanita ... something, can't remember her last name. She reminded me of someone I knew but I still can't place it.
Around 9:00 pm I made it back to my motel room. Once the quiet surrounded me I was able to relax and after a shower I laid down in bed. I closed my eyes, listened to the night and awoke in the field.
Hunter and Starr were waiting for me.
"Drew, we've been keeping an eye on you, me and Hunter. You did good, better than I hoped."
"I didn't do much. All I am is the messenger and I've just been passing on what you told me."
"That's what I needed, what they needed. I can't talk to them now, the hurt, the loss is too recent for them to hear me. Hell, it is too soon for me. I needed someone to serve as a go-between and you did well."
A go-between? I remembered years ago Rick and I talked about the role of the in-betweener, of bringing things together that otherwise might never have come together. VP Tanks was in-betweener, Rick had been one, so had Mark, so had I. Maybe that was my role in the field, a go-between, an in-betweener, a bridge between this world and the waking world.
"Not quite right, but not too far off."
"Huh?"
"You've been thinking about go-betweens and in-betweeners. I can hear you thinking and you're almost right, but you're missing it. You're spending too much time thinking and not enough time being."
"Starr, can't say I like the idea of you knowing what I'm thinking. Is that just you, or does everyone here have that ability?"
Starr didn't respond, but Hunter did with a loud bark.
"I believe Hunter answered your question. Yeah, we can know what you are thinking... if you're willing to let us in. From what I've heard from the others here, you don't let that happen often. You close yourself off more times than not."
We didn't say anything, not even Hunter, for what felt like several minutes.
"Damn Drew, you just did it. You shut down, I can't see anything in you any more."
"Good, don't want you peeking in. Glad you can't see in anymore."
"Well, it does change the tone of the conversation. You're here. I thought you're here so I could tell you that I appreciate what you have done, but you're still here. So there's something else going on. Care to tell me about it?"
I didn't. Not because I didn't want him to know, but because I didn't know.
The three of us stood in silence. Hunter would look from me to Starr, then back to me, then back to Starr. Finally, Hunter let out a low moan.
"Yea, I know boy. I got to try to get things going, just not sure how. Give me a minute, I'll figure something out."
Hunter and I waited for Starr to figure something out. Finally he spoke.
"Got any overarching philosophies for me?"
"No, I got nothing."
"Drew, you got something. You don't know what it is yet. You got something. Everybody has got something. Some people figure it out on day one. Some never do. Some of us get lucky and find it."
Starr kept talking, but I wasn't listening closely. I felt the dream fading away.
"Damn it, Drew! Pay attention. I got what I needed. You need to figure out what you need."
I was nearly gone from the field. Everything was fading away when Starr grabbed my shoulder hard, as hard as his father had hugged me earlier that day back in the other world.
"Dude, one last thing."
"That sounds rather final. Are you saying I won't see you here again?"
"I don't know. I don't know how this place works, but that's not the point. You're fading away but I can see into you again. I can see into you right now. I don't like what I'm seeing. "
He paused for a moment, looks at the ground, like he was waiting, searching for the right words to say.
"Maybe you need to think about it this way. Instead of mourning for the things you've loved and lost, maybe give thanks for the things you've had, even if it was for only a short while, shorter than what you wanted, shorter than you needed. At least you had those things. That's the beauty of life. Be thankful for the things you've had. And when they go away, be thankful you had a chance at all."
His voice, the field, Hunter, they all faded away and I was back in my room at the Best Budget Inn in Crane. It was almost 3:00 am. I lay there for awhile as my mind tried to figure it all out. It didn't but I grew tired of the gears turning and fell back asleep.
I slept until 7:00 am. The funeral wasn't until 3:00 pm, lots of time to kill. Around 8:30 am I drove around Crane, to see the sights. At 8:45 I wondered what next to do. I drove slowly around town and at 8:55 am I saw a large number of cars parked a block or two away. I parked my truck and walked over out of curiosity. I walked up to the Good Shepherd Catholic Church. Mass started at 9:00 am. People were walking in to the church, smiling and saying hello. I'm not much of a believer in destiny but I had wound up here, at the Catholic church, at 9:00 am on a Sunday and mass was about to start. Sort of sounded and felt like destiny. I went in. The church was small, but full with people. It was a bilingual mass and I listened to every word said. At the end of the mass I felt better. Not great mind you, I was still confused, still angry, still lost, still broken, but I did feel better. I felt that for the past hour I had left one world behind and had been in sanctuary.
Time passed slowly that Sunday. The Feeler's insisted I join them for lunch. We ate at a small Mexican restaurant in Crane. Absolutely great food, light but full of flavor. I cleaned my plate, but hardly anyone else did. I think the day and all that was going to happen that day was weighing on them all.
The funeral was, well, a funeral. I don't like funerals. I don't understand them. Rarely do I see good in them, but this time I did.
I saw a brother open his heart to all and in his pain, in his tears, show the strength of love.
I saw a father with a broken heart whose every effort and attention was spent on the emotions and well being of others. He paid little attention to his own pain and sadness. I saw pain overcome by love.
I saw a mother nearly overcome, but still standing. I saw sadness in so many people, but I saw more strength than sadness.
These were strong people. They were bent, but they were not broken. They would survive.
That evening there was to be a wake of sorts at a house in town but I could feel the drive of the day before and my anticipation of my drive tomorrow weighing me down. I planned on an early night, hopefully a restful sleep and leaving Crane before the sun rose in the morning. I told the Feeler's of my plans and began my good-byes.
Johnnie shook my hand, thanked me once again for coming to Crane and said "Anything else you want to tell us about?"
At first I didn't, but then I thought of what Starr had told me in the field in the early morning hours of this same day.
"Yeah, about the last thing Starr ever said to me. I was angry and down about something. I don't know what it was. Angry about something I lost, maybe, I don't know. I get angry about a lot of shit... I mean a lot of stuff, God, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to say that...
"Anyways, I was angry and down. He looked at me and said 'Dude, let it go. Instead of mourning for what you lost, be thankful for what you had, even if it was for a short while.' Then he got real philosophical and said 'That's the beauty of life. Give thanks for the good things in your life. Then when they are gone, give thanks you had the chance to see them at all...' Yeah, that's what I want to tell you."
Caleb looked at me and asked "When did he tell you that?"
I answered honestly and without thinking. "This morning." As soon as I said that I knew I had made a mistake. I was too honest. I had to move fast, maybe I could get away with it. "No, that's not what I meant. It just seems like this morning. It had to be years ago. It's funny how memories work. How they come back, sometimes at just the right time. I can't explain it. I don't know. It seems like he told me that just this morning, but I know it was years ago."
Everyone stared at me, the whole scene had become uncomfortable. I hadn't come this close to telling anyone what I saw and heard outside of the normal world and now I had stepped right into it.
Caleb, looking at me in a way that convinced me he doubted everything about me, said "This morning? Hell, I woke up this morning, around 2:30 am, convinced I could hear Starr talking. We were in our home in Crane, it was like he was down the hallway, a few doors down, so his voice was muffled, but I could hear him. I knew it was him. I woke up, looked at my watch, saw what time it was, realized where I was and knew I hadn't heard Starr. It was just a dream, but it seemed real."
There was a collective sigh. The moment had passed. We said our good-byes. I promised all that I would stay in touch and I walked back to my room. I packed up everything that night so I could make a quick exit the next morning and around 9:00 I fell asleep.
No dreams that night and at 5:00 am I woke up. I stretched, showered, dressed and put everything in the truck. By 5:30 I was ready to go. The motel office was locked so I left my key in my room and I drove south out of town.
In the darkness of early morning, I saw several deer and I drove cautiously. I was near I-10 when I came to the high point on the road I had stopped at Saturday afternoon on my way to Crane. I stopped once again, stepped out of the truck and looked around. All was dark. I looked up at the sky and saw the stars, thousands, millions of stars, just as many, if not more, as I could see in West Columbia on a clear night.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Startled by the voice, I turned around and saw Starr.
"This was my favorite place once we moved to Crane. Many a night I ended up here, just to stare at the stars, drink a few beers and think. Many a night..."
"I thought the only place I could see the dead was in the field."
"Are you sure this isn't part of the field? You've only seen a small part of it. How do you know what else is there?"
"Hadn't thought about it that way."
We didn't say anything else for awhile. Neither of us felt the need. We let the night, the wind, talk to us. We looked at the stars. Starr broke the silence.
"You know, everyone needs a place like this. A place where they can be overwhelmed by... I don't know, just overwhelmed."
"You mean the stars, right?"
"Yeah, Drew, yeah, the stars. But, I don't know, the stars... they're just a symbol. You just need a place where you can go, where you can be at peace. A place where you know you know you are not alone, where you know you are not lost, just a place where you can be at peace."
Starr paused, looked at the stars and said "Drew, you got a place like that?"
I thought for a moment, didn't say anything at first. I did have a place like this. That's what I was thinking of when I saw how brilliant the stars were here, that place is what I was thinking of when Starr made his appearance.
"Yeah, Starr, I do."
"Really? Tell me about it. Where is it? What does it look like?"
"It's my backyard."
"Your backyard? Shit, you're kidding me. Really? Your backyard?"
"Yeah, my backyard."
"Damn, Drew. You are blessed. Just to be able to walk out in your backyard and there it is? Damn, that is a blessing."
He was right. I hadn't thought about it that way until he said it. It is a blessing. It is a blessing.
"Hell, Drew, don't get quiet on me. Tell me about it. I want to know."
"Well, West Columbia, where we live, is about 50, 55 miles south of Houston. It's near the coast, right off the Brazos river. Nine months a year it is green, verdant, everything is green. In a normal, good year we get 40 plus inches of rain, in a wet year we get more. Everything is green. Like here, there is not a lot of light pollution. At night, if the sky is clear, you can't count the stars, there are so many of them. What's really nice is that you can sit in our living room and no matter what is going on you can look out the window and see the green. You can see the trees. The trees, God, they're big, forty, fifty, sixty feet tall. Big oak trees, big pecan trees, hackberry trees, river cypress the closer you get to the river. Just about everything grows there. Some of the trees are old, some have been around for more than a hundred years. In the spring, summer and fall, the light plays through the green of the leaves, makes dancing shadows, just everything around you surrounds you with green. As the sun fades away it goes from green to pink then to the dark blue of the night and the stars and the moon light up the sky."
I paused, thinking of the green, of the stars and what waited for me there.
"You love it there, don't you, Drew? You may not realize it, but you love it. Damn, I came near to tears just listening to you talk about it and I don't have tears anymore. Like I said earlier, man, you are blessed. To have a place like that just right out your back door, within your reach anytime you need it? That's something."
"Yeah, I guess it is. I don't think I realized that before, but it is a blessing."
The silence returned as I thought about all that gone on the last few days, the last few years, all that had gone on.
"Shit, don't let me hold you back, Drew. You need to get going. You need to get going to that green place. Thanks for being here. You did a lot of good."
"Will I ever see you again?"
"Don't know. I don't have control of this world, just like you don't have control of that other one. But I would be willing to bet we will be in touch from time to time."
"Good. Guess I will be seeing you."
"Yeah, in your dreams, man. In your dreams." With that Starr faded into the night. I looked at the stars one last time, got back in my truck, started it up, drove a little south, turned on to I-10 and drove east towards the sunrise.
I made it back to West Columbia by early afternoon. Sam and Mike were glad to see me and we waited for Ann and Rae to come home from school. I was tired, but I felt better than I had in awhile. I was glad to be back home.
The real James Starr Feeler was sort of my nephew-in-law. Johnnie Feeler, Starr’s father was married to my sister Lanita Akins in the early 70’s. Matthew Caleb Feeler is their son and my nephew. Johnnie and Lanita divorced by the mid-70’s (I don’t remember the exact year) and in 1977 Jonnie and his second wife Cathy became parents to James Starr Feeler. Over the following decades I didn’t see Starr often but always enjoyed catching up with him.
Starr died in 2013. From the April 4, 2013 issue of the Odessa American:
CRANE TEXAS James Starr Feeler was born June 10, 1977, and left us on March 19, 2013. Starr is survived by his proud parents, Johnnie and Cathy Feeler. Starr was a great teacher for 12 years, excellent golfer and loved to make everyone laugh. Starr had many friends, relatives, co-workers and students, and he loved them all. Funeral services for Starr will be on Sunday, April 7 at 3:00 at the First Baptist Church in Crane, TX. Burial will be at the Crane Cemetery following the service. Services provided by Shaffer Nichols Funeral Home of Crane, TX. James graduated Crane High School, Crane, Texas in 1995.
I played golf with Starr one or two times and he was an excellent golfer. He had a natural smooth swing, sort of reminded me of Sam Snead’s swing. Starr made the game look easy.
I wrote this about the fictional Starr Feeler character:
He was quiet until he was loud. He had a very dry sense of humor, the kind of sense that would catch you off guard. He would say something and it would just float in the air for a moment before it finally hit you. Then you would laugh hard and uncontrolled. He would just smile as he listened to the laughter. He brought a quiet pleasance to the room but there was always an under current of life, vibrant life to him.
These words describe the Starr Feeler I know. He is missed by many.
I drove from West Columbia to Crane in March 2013 to attend the memorial for James Starr Feeler. Sunday morning, a few hours before the memorial I took this photo outside of the Best Budget Inn in Crane, Texas. The streak was not in the photo when I took it.
Next week in Episode 25 of Walking Backwards Drew and Ann solve a puzzle from Peeling the Onion, Sam fades away, and Mike shows Drew that peace surrounds us all.
So love the way you talk of family adding to the stories with insight and wonder.