Horrible Harvest

I’d left the employ of the Bunning Brothers Firm to take care of some private business that needed taking care of. I got it done. Most of it, anyway. Felix – He weren’t no longer my tagalong. I’d sent him and sweet Virginia on their way. I didn’t want them around no more. The business I had, it required a certain way of thinking. The two of them distracted me from them sort of thoughts. Couldn’t have that.  As it is, I left the last bit undone, and all these years later, I’ve still got a mind to get back to it, but I had my reasons for walking away from it then. We’ll just leave it at that.

I was atop a pale mount riding aimless across the Dakotas, doubt on my heels. I didn’t even know where I was going. That and unfinished business had my mind muddled quite a bit. I felt lost and cowardly. Soberness was near killing me. It does that sometimes, real life, this life. It kills you a little bit at a time. I know the lot of us are all crawling towards our end from the time we’s born, but every now and then the bullshit we go through just takes little stabs at your heart to speed want for the finish line, and I tell you true, mine was taking on deep cuts from a half dozen daggers or more. I didn’t have but one way out of that misery. Opium.

I traveled without haste through the territory into Iowa – All the while smoking on my pipe. I ain’t got recollection of the towns I passed through nor the people I met. I don’t remember eating. I don’t remember ever stopping to sleep nor rest my horse. I just remember feeling the waddle of my pale mare beneath me as we negotiated our way east.

One day – Can’t say how much time had passed – I found myself atop my mount in front of a grand building – Long in construction – Divided in sections – Three story blocks separated by four story towers separated by three story blocks separated by four story towers and so on. It had it a red tile roof and ivy crawled up the walls like an invading web of aliens. I ain’t got idea one how I ended up there. Don’t know if it was by accident or choice, but upon seeing it, I felt drawn to it – As if I belonged to it.

A woman passed on the grounds wearing a long plain gray gown and nursing cap.

I called out to her. “What is this here place?”

She looked at me as if I couldn’t have asked a more ignorant question. “Spring Grove, sir – Hospital.”

“Hospital? I ain’t sick. Why am I here?”

“You’ll forgive me, but you do not look well. Perhaps you were directed here.”

“That’s something to consider – But I ain’t got no idea by who.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Can’t say.”

“You can’t say?”

“It’s possible I’ve had a bottle or two, but right at this moment my memory is for shit, I ain’t got recollection of taking such liberties, but it ain’t outside of my nature.”

“It sounds as if someone has directed you to our inebriate ward.”

“Nonsense.”

“If you’ll excuse me, sir, but a person who appears impaired by drink without sufficient memory enough to recollect consuming drink sounds to be the perfect candidate for just such a ward and the treatment it offers.”

“Miss lady, I ain’t a fan of the memories I can recollect. I prefer conditions that prevent me from collecting more.”

I steered my horse to exit the property but stopped when a rush of stored information in the back of my mind come at me like a herd of buffalo. “I recollect now.”

She’d begun her exit, too, but stopped when she heard me speak. “You recollect what?”

“I’m here to see a patient – I’ve traveled for – I ain’t got the slightest idea how long I’ve traveled – I need to find a patient. Can you help me?”

She stood in silence for a beat before saying, “They will not allow your weapon inside. They will take it upon entering.”

I looked at my sidearm. “Take it?”

“You’ll get it back when you leave.”

“What do they have against guns?”

“It’s a safety issue – And they aren’t common here – In Baltimore.”

“Baltimore?” Weren’t a doubt in my mind at that point. I was exactly where I was supposed to be. “I’ll happily surrender my gun, ma’am.”