Chapter 25 - Slipping Away

Troubles with Daniel Butler intensifies and Caleb's family slips futher away from him.

          Caleb slept very little the whole night.  Before sunrise he set out for the dock.

          “Didn’t think we’d be seein’ ya ‘round here today,” Frank told him as they began to unload crates from the day’s first barge.

          “Can’t stay back there all day.”

          “How ‘bout we go fer some drinks when we get done here?”  Jess suggested.  “It’ll get yer mind off things.”

          Daniel Butler came up beside the men.  “Campbell…you had better watch yer back.  Yer days are numbered.”

          “You son-a-b***h!”  Jess blurted angrily.  He stepped up close to Daniel.  “Yer out numbered here an’ we ain’t got time fer ya.  Seems ta me you should be the one watchin’ yer back.”

          “Jess,” Frank called, dropping a crate into his arms.

          “My fight ain’t with you fellas.  This ain’t got nothin’ ta do with ya.”

          “You pick a fight with one of us, you answer ta all of us,” Frank told him angrily.  “Now ya jus’ get on back ta work.  Ya don’t want no trouble with us.” 

          Daniel turned to Caleb, who had stood silently watching the whole affair.  “I’ll be watchin’ you.  Ya hurt Elizabeth again an’ yer a dead man.”  He turned and walked quickly away.

         

That evening, after the day’s work was done, the three men rode into town.  They sat in the tavern they now frequented.  The barkeep sat three cloudy glasses and a tall bottle on the table and returned to the bar.  Frank filled the glasses and passed them around.

Caleb sat silent, drinking one shot after another.

“I should have listened ta her,” he said finally.  “Elizabeth was worried.  Said the Doc was missin’ somethin’.  Said she knew somethin’ else must be wrong.”  He hung his head.  “Doc said Gracie was fine.  Said it would pass.  ‘Nothin’ ta worry ‘bout,’ he said. ‘She’ll be well in a day or two. Jus’ needs rest.’  I should have known better.  Should have listened ta Elizabeth.”  A tear rolled down his face.  “I should have done somethin’.”  He hid his face in his hands.

“It ain’t yer fault,” Frank told him.  “Ain’t nothin’ ya could have done.”

Caleb threw back another shot of whiskey, the liquid burning his throat.

“Think you’ve had enough ta drink,” Frank told him, moving the bottle out of his reach.  “It’s ‘bout time we all head on fer the night.  Go get yerself some rest.”

“I don’t want ta go home jus’ yet.  Can’t face her.  Not tonight.”

“Ya gotta go home ta yer wife, Caleb.  What she goin’ ta do without ya?”  Frank put his hand on Caleb’s shoulder.  “We’ll ride on up there with ya.”

Frank and Jess stood up.

“You boys jus’ go on without me.  I’ll head on up there in a bit.  Jus’ need ta sort some things out b’fore I go.”

“Ya goin’ on home tonight?” Frank asked.

Caleb sat silent a moment starring past them.  “I’ll go on home tonight.  Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

Frank and Jess left the bar.  Caleb sat a moment, then stood on shaky knees and stumbled to the door.

Frank’s words played over in his head again.  “It ain’t yer fault, ain’t nothin’ ya could have done.” 

He’s right, Caleb thought.  It ain’t my fault.  What could I have done?  The doctor! He’s the one to blame.  He should have known it was worse.  How could Caleb know how sick his daughter was?  The doctor, on the other hand, should have done something to save her, but had not.  The doctor, Caleb thought, was the reason his daughter had died.

Caleb rode his horse down the street toward the doctor’s office.  A light still shone inside and someone moved about.  Caleb dismounted and peaked in the window.  The doctor stood next to his desk, thumbing through a stack of papers.  Caleb lurked in the shadows and watched him for what seemed like hours.  Finally he turned out the lantern and stepped out of the door of the building.  He locked it behind him and then mounted his horse.  Caleb waited for him to ride about a block away, then he got back on his horse and followed slowly behind.

He followed the doctor beyond the streets of town and into the darkness of the countryside, keeping a safe distance behind, until the river came into view. 

As the doctor started over the bridge, Caleb brought his horse to a gallop.

The doctor stopped halfway over the river, startled.  Caleb rode by and lifted his leg, kicking him in the side.  He tumbled off of his horse and hit the bridge with a thud.

The startled horse took off over the bridge and down the road.  The doctor sat shocked and bewildered on the ground, looking up at Caleb’s dark form.

Caleb quickly dismounted.  “You let her die,” he told him angrily.  “You could have helped her but you let her die.”

“But…” he began to object.

Caleb pulled his gun out of his coat.

“No…please…don’t…please,” begged the doctor.

Caleb pulled the trigger and the doctor slumped loosely against the bridge railing.

“How could ya let a child die?” Caleb choked.

He dropped to his knees and buried his head in his hands beginning to sob. 

Caleb sat on the bridge in front of the lifeless body for sometime.  Finally he pulled himself to his feet.  He hoisted the body up by the arms and draped it over the bridge rail, then lifted his legs and let the body drop into the dark water below.

Caleb pulled himself onto his horse and rode back the way he had come.  When he arrived home he slumped in a chair by the fire and passed out.

 

When Caleb awoke in the morning, the events of the night before were merely a distant and hazy memory.  To him it did not seem real.  Like a bad dream, he thought.  In fact, he did not realize how real it was until a week later when word of the missing doctor began to spread like wild fire.  Then a story about a cold, water logged and bullet-riddled body found down stream, emerged.  A horse was then found wondering aimlessly on the other side of the river, still saddled and harnessed.

Who would kill the doctor and why? This was the question on the minds of everyone.  Everyone, that is, except for Caleb.  He became nervous he would be found out.  This time he did not feel the guilt he had before.  Could it be that it was becoming easier for Caleb to kill out of vengeance?  He tried not to think about it.  He became afraid of what he had become.  If Elizabeth were to find out, what would she think?  He feared he would lose her if she were to find out.  Still guilt did not come over him.  He regretted what he had done, but only because it meant he was becoming something ugly and that, in turn, could lose him everything.  He did not feel guilty for the life he had taken.  To him, somehow, it was still justified.

Caleb continued to go to work everyday, concealing his secret well.  Then every evening, after leaving the dock, he would go into the tavern on the edge of town.  He would sit and drink, sometimes with Frank and Jess, and sometimes alone.

Elizabeth became accustomed to Caleb coming home late and in a foul, drunken disposition.  In the morning, he could see the hurt Elizabeth felt.  Every move she made, word she spoke, and look she gave, told him his actions the night before had hurt her deeply.  He could never remember exactly what had been said or done; only that she had cried herself to sleep.

Every morning he told himself that the night before would be the last.  Every morning he told himself this and every night he would come home in the same state as before.

One morning, Elizabeth came to Caleb with news that their fifth child was on the way.  She also confronted Caleb about his drinking, asking him to stop for herself and their children.  He agreed to cut back on his drinking and for a short time he managed to stay away from the tavern.  It wasn’t long, however, before he once again, went back to his old habit.

 

Caleb sat at the bar.  Just a few drinks, he told himself, as he had many times before.  Again, a few drinks multiplied rapidly.  He rose from his stool on numb legs and staggered drunkenly to the door.  He climbed awkwardly onto his horse and rode out of town. 

When he got home, Mrs. Garland was stepping off the front porch.  She glared up at Caleb briefly and then climbed into the wagon seat and drove up the road, back toward her own home.

Caleb dismounted and stumbled up the front steps into the cabin.  A baby cried in a room at the back of the house.  Caleb slowly walked down the narrow hall and stood in the doorway of he and Elizabeth’s room.  Elizabeth sat in bed with the baby in her arms.

Had it come early, he wondered.  He could not remember there having been enough months passed, for it to be time the baby’s arrival.  He was struck hard with a sobering thought.  Through the haze of his drunkenness, he realized he had missed the last few months of Elizabeth’s pregnancy.  He had missed this and now his own child’s birth while he sat in a tavern and drank himself blind. 

“It’s a boy,” Elizabeth said softly, shaking him from his thoughts.  “I named him Isaac.”

“I’m sorry,” Caleb told her, a lump forming in his throat.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

He sat with her a while before finally lying down and going to sleep.

 

The following morning, Caleb left early, unable to face Elizabeth.  He knew the disappointment she would feel in him, for missing such an important event. 

He did not speak a word of the birth to Frank or Jess.  Both noticed Caleb was troubled, but neither dared to ask him what the problem was.

Throughout the day he worked in silence, speaking very little to anyone.  As the day came to a close, Caleb rode into town with Frank and Jess and the three men sat in the bar, once again. 

Finally, Caleb spoke up, “I have another son.”

Frank and Jess looked up from their glasses, surprised by his announcement.

“He was born last night,” Caleb continued, solemnly.  “I missed it.  I was here, drowning in a bottle.” 

The men were silent, neither knowing what to say.

Caleb looked up at the men.  The expression in his eyes seemed to ask for help.  He took the tall bottle in his hand and held it a moment.  Then he slid it to the center of the table and turned his glass upside down. 

“Not tonight,” he said in almost a whisper.  He put his forehead in his hands and sat staring down at the table.

Outside a horse rode up to the tavern and heavy boots clumped across the porch.  The doors swung open on the hinges and a man entered, a silhouette against the setting sun.  The long dark shadow fell across Caleb.  He looked up and watched the man move across the barroom in his direction. 

“Campbell!” the man’s voice boomed.  “I would suggest you leave here now, before you drink yourself into hurting Elizabeth again.”

Butler stepped to the table between Jess and Frank. 

Jess discretely placed his hand on the pistol he had laid in his lap.  He pulled the hammer back with a click.  He then took it in his right hand and put it over his left shoulder, pointing the end of the barrel in the direction of Butler’s crotch.

Frank, seeing the aim of the gun, chuckled.  “I would suggest you stop hasslin’ him an’ jus’ move yerself along.  If ya don’t ya may fin’ yerself missin’ somethin’ I’m sure yer quite fond of.”  His eyes welled up and his cheeks turned bright red as he struggled to control his laughter.

Jess grinned.  “He won’t be missin’ much, I reckon.”

Frank’s efforts failed, and the laughter burst out of him.

Butler looked down and his eyes widened.  He took a step back.  “You have my word,” he warned.  “You hurt her again an’ I’ll make ya wish ya had never involved yerself in our affairs.  You’ll be a dead man ‘fore sunrise.”  He turned and walked out of the bar. 

Jess laid the gun back in his lap and the two roared hysterically.  The tears boiled up in their eyes, blinding them.

“Did ya see the look on his face?” Jess choked.  “Eyes bigger’n the bottom o’ that bottle.”

“Damned near popped outta his head,” Frank added with a nod.

Caleb sat silent.  When the laughter died, he rose slowly from his chair.  “It’s alright.  I’m headin’ on home early tonight.  Elizabeth don’t deserve none o’ this.  I’ve been puttin’ her through hell and I know it.  She needs me and I ain’t even man enough ta be there.  Just been dodgin’ around it.  I’ll see you boys out at the dock tomorrow mornin’.  Just need ta go home ta my family.”

They sat quietly and watched him as he trudged out into the street.

 

When Caleb arrived home, the cabin was empty.  Elizabeth and all the children were nowhere to be found.  He dropped limply into a chair in front of the unlit fireplace.  He sat silent in the darkness until he heard a wagon come down the road toward the house.  A moment later, the door burst open.  Hannah and Mark bound into the room, stopping instantly upon seeing the dark shadow of their father.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth called from the porch.  “Good night.” 

Another woman’s voice yelled back something Caleb could not understand and then the wagon started off again. 

Elizabeth stepped through the door to see the children, frozen in the middle of the room.

“Papa?” Hannah’s small voice asked. 

He looked up at her and held his arms out.  She approached him cautiously.

“It’s alright,” Caleb told her.

Mark turned and ran back to his mother.  He hid himself behind her skirt and peeked around her.

“Caleb,” Elizabeth started, concern in her voice.

“It’s alright.  I haven’t had anything to drink.”

Hannah reach one hand out and put it on his knee.  He leaned forward and boosted her onto his lap.

Elizabeth shifted the baby in her arms and reach around for Mark.  He came reluctantly out of his hiding spot. 

Caleb and Mark watched each other for a moment, then Mark made a wide circle around his father and ran down the short hall and into his room.

“Where have you been?”  Caleb finally asked.

“Mrs. Garland had us stay for dinner.  I did not expect you to come home so early,” She took a deep, nervous breath.  “Did something happen?”

“No,” he answered her, putting his arms around Hannah and pulling her stiff body against him.  She resisted a moment and then leaned against him.  “I just wanted to come home to see you and my children.”

Elizabeth crossed the room and laid the baby in a small basinet.  “I’ll start a fire.  Hannah, say goodnight to your father and then go get Mark dressed for the night.”  Elizabeth crossed back to the door and stepped out.

“Goodnight, Papa,” Hannah told him, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“Stay,” he told her.

“But momma said…”

“I know, but I haven’t spoken with you in so long.  Please stay.”

She settled back against him and watched the door nervously.

They sat in an awkward silence for a moment, then Hannah spoke up.  “I am learning to read and write,” she told him proudly.  “Miss Suzy is teaching me.”

“Who’s Miss Suzy?”

“She’s my teacher.  Mrs. Garland pays her to teach lessons at her house.  She’s teaching Annie arithmetic.  I have to learn to read and write better before I can learn that.  She even teaches Annie’s sister ed…edi…edicute.  You know, how to hold her teacup and be like a lady.  I have a long time before she’ll teach me that though.”

Caleb listened closely to her every word.  Could it be possible that he had missed so much of his daughter’s life?  It seemed only a couple of years had passed since she was born.

“Mark isn’t in lessons yet,” she continued.  “He is still too young.  He has to stay in the nursery with Lilly.”

Elizabeth came through the door, her arms pilled high with firewood.  She dropped it next to the fireplace and then turned back to Caleb and Hannah.  She crossed her arms and stood staring at them a moment.

“Hannah, what did I tell you to do?”

Hannah swallowed hard.  “But…” she began to object.

“It’s alright, Elizabeth.  I asked her stay and talk to me.”

Elizabeth stood there a moment, then uncrossed her arms, the stern look fading from her face.  “Alright.  Would you go take care of Mark now, please?”

Hannah wiggled out her father’s lap.  “Yes ma’am.”  She ran down the hall and disappeared into the children’s room.

Elizabeth went to work starting the fire.  Caleb rose from his chair and knelt beside her.  He gently took the wood from her hands and feed the new flame. 

“I’m sorry,” he told her. 

In the dim light he could clearly see the lines on her face.  She was still so young and yet her youth was beginning to fade so quickly.

She looked into his eyes and forced a faint smile.

He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips, but she pulled immediately away from him.  She rose to her feet and went about her evening chores.

 

That night, he lay awake in bed thinking.  Through his soberness he could see clearly.  He saw what he had been missing for so long.  He finally realized what he had done to his family.  His children feared him and his wife’s love for him was fading.  His heart sank and intense sadness came over him.  He rolled on his side, away from Elizabeth, and buried his face in the pillow.  He began to sob, his cries muffled, the occasional choke from deep within himself was the only sound.