![[dr. bob]](/dr-bob-sm.gif)
Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 6 of 6. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Nevina on June 24, 2004, at 14:19:34
A solitary figure stands on the pathway. Beyond him a white church sits at the edge of a dark green forest. Wisps of fog float through the air like aimless ghosts. The waves breaking on the rocky beach provide the only sound save the occasional sea gull's cry. A worn cap sitting low over his eyes shows just a hint of the grey hair hidden underneath. Though he stands tall with a straight back there is a sag to his shoulders as though under a heavy burden. A faded warm plaid shirt protects his thin frame while rubber boots his feet. Before his eyes lies the small island cementary. Stones lay here and there over the sacred patch of land, marking the graves of loved ones.
The tide has had time to rise many feet before he finally steps to the little iron gate. His aged white hand, not much more than tendon and bone, holds the fence and his balance, while the other swings open the entrance. He makes his way past the stone reminders to the large chestnut tree in the back corner. Here it is darker, as it lies closest to the forest, and the fog clings deeper. Amongst the hairy cracked shells in the grass a small flat stone is visible with a short engraving ...
BERNARD LIAM GREENE
1932-1945
Pulling his hat off and gripping it with both hands, he rolls the rim back and forth through his fingers as he clears his voice.
“Hello Bernie, It's been a long time.” he pauses, unsure of his words. “It's me Percy, got a lot more wrinkles now. Delia died, so I am the last one of us kids left. I figured it was time to come back here.” With that his eyes roam out towards the sound of the sea. Memories clearer in his mind than any recent day, fill his vision.
Bernie, his younger brother by only a couple years and his closest friend, appears before him. A young boy with careless brown hair, and a familiar ever-present grin of devilish intent. Grey eyes, the depth of which not even the sea could match, shining with the light of unknown potential.
As the sea is to the shore these two were as different from each other and yet never apart. Bernie called him Perce. As the older brother Percy liked to feel that he was responsible for his younger brother. Bernie was full of mischief, antics and pranks, of which he never left Percy out.
On this day the sky is clear and the sea has only a slight chop. The boys set out goose hunting with their father's shotgun. It holds six shots, though the boys have only four. Their shot is of a heavier bead that will travel farther and increase their chance of hitting a target. Excitement extends a hand of nervous energy through them as they leave the house before the sun hits the autumn frost.
“Do you think we'll both get a chance to shoot today? Cause I'd love to get morethan one goose. One each would be nice. I can't wait to get more feathers.” Bernie's
excitement transfers easily into talking.
“It will all depend on them geese I imagine. Whaddya want them feathers for
anyway?”
“I am making a set of wings. Perfect wings, big enough to wear. I've got quite afew already.”
“What do you want wings for? You can't fly.”
“Doesn't matter, I just want make them, and make them look real.... besides I might be able to fly if I make them strong enough.”“You're a fool.” Percy grins though, because he is sure the wings would be
beautiful, and knowing his little brother, they might just work. “Have to make sure we hit
them in the chest, so as we don't ruin the feathers.”
Bernie then continues describing his wing plans in detail as they travel.
The pond they venture to is not very big, but the geese constantly stick to the farthest side, making the shots a bit harder. Not willing to wait for experience to improve their aim, they have devised a scheme that they are sure will land them a goose or two. Although they have never tried it before, and a lot of it depends on luck, they are certain that they will succeed.
Nestled in the center of a tiny island a couple miles southwest of their home, the pond is a regular stopping place for the geese. On it's south side it is lined with short, stubby evergreens and thick prickly raspberry bushes. It's north side, lying closest to the beach, is mostly rock, grasses and morning glories. The boys have found a natural blind of large rocks to hide among and line up their shots. They cross the narrow between the two islands without difficulty. As they secure their punt on the beach and gather up the shotgun and lunches they feel a change in the wind. With the wisdom of their father they recognize this signal of impending change in weather.
“We'll have to head home early if this wind stays” Percy noted, feeling very responsible and wise.
“Not before we get a fat goose or two” grinned back his brother as they turn towards the pond. Hopping deftly up the beach from one rock to another they find their favorite place.
Surveying the small pool before them they see only one lone rabbit on the eastern edge. The geese have not yet arrived. Eagerly the brothers crawl up over the collection of large boulders and descend into an opening amidst them. These granite stones were situated in such a way as to leave one hidden from view once inside and still leave large cracks through which to look out or even place and move the barrel of a rifle. This was their duck blind. They covered any large holes with driftwood and placed some over the top entrance as well.
“Bernie you head back of that pond there and stay quiet. The geese'll know you're there but they shouldn't be too spooked to land. Just the same, stay back a ways. Maybe sit on that big old tree trunk laying on the other side of the raspberry bushes. I'll be able to see you if you stand up on it”
“Yah, I know. I checked it out last time we were here. You just make sure you hit one.” A quick wishful look at the rifle and he adds “I still say I have the better aim.”
“You're the only one who says that!”
Bernie flashes one more grin at Percy as he takes off up the western side of the water, climbs the hill and disappears in the woods to avoid the rough walk at the pond's edge.
Percy moves himself into a good comfortable position and checks his views with the rifle in place. Once satisfied he opens his lunch and pulls out a piece of salt herring to chew on while he watches for sight of his accomplice, or signs of geese. He notes that it seems a bit darker, clouds are moving more quickly.
At long last he sees Bernie hop up on the log and wave, before jumping down out of sight. The wait for their feathered quarry does not take long. The geese generally arrive around the same time. Soon they will be heading south, not to be seen again until spring.
As Percy watches, seven geese circle the pond, slipping gradually lower in the sky. ‘Land’ he thinks with all his heart and mind. He wills the geese to feel safe and land on the calm water. Sure enough, the geese see no threat below and one after the other splash down on the liquid surface towards the southern end. What a racket they make honking and screeching out to each other. Their beautiful grey and brown feathers ruffle and settle as they make themselves comfortable. Long graceful black necks end with the white striped chin and cheeks of the proud Canada geese. All fat and healthy looking, these large winged creatures are ready for their southern voyage.
Percy has to remind himself to breathe as he looks down the barrel of the shot-gun, choosing the one he will try to shoot. They are sticking close to that southern shore as per their usual. Percy hazards a glance up to his brother's hidden position, but doesn't see him. Returning his gaze to the geese he tries to wait patiently. Eventually, with less noise than before, the geese begin moving slowly toward the center of the pond. Percy’s heart leaps, it is working! He watches closely now, his focus narrowing in on his prize. ‘Closer, just a little closer,’ His eyes squint a bit and his irises expand. His goose swims slowly back and forth, occasionally dipping his head and beak below the surface and tidying his beautiful long wings. Moment by moment it comes nearer the rocky shore. Percy is no longer aware of breathing, hears only his quickening heartbeat, feels only his sweaty palms on the gun and sees only the goose’s white breast.
His finger pulls, BANG, the shotgun kicks back against his shoulder. There is a great flapping of wings, splashing of water and honking as geese scramble to the air. Before the echo comes back, another shot rings out. BANG, the first shot has missed and then the second. With fixed concentration Percy’s aim follows the goose as it takes flight. BANG, on the third shot over the eastern edge of the pond, the large water fowl falls. It’s rising escape cut short. It hits the ground with a soft thud. Percy jumps up, gun thrust up in the air and with a whoop of success he looks to his brother on the other shore. Bernie is not on the log. Puzzlement is entering his eyes, as they quickly scan down to the shore and sight the boy. His puzzlement deepens as he takes in the crumpled body almost down to the water’s edge. ‘What is he doing?’ He should be back by that log, not lying in that swampy area. Why isn’t he celebrating, whooping and dancing? Something nags at Percy's mind.
“Bernie” Percy's voice cracks as it speaks the name. “Bernie!” He repeats louder with a touch of fear in his voice. A strange strangling feeling creeps up through his chest and his mouth is bone dry. “Bernie!” he fairly screams as he throws down his shot-gun and runs straight to his brother. Into the pond he splashes, running then swimming. His eyes never straying from the young body lying still on the shore, seemingly miles away and only inches at the same time. Coughing and sputtering Percy half runs and half falls out of the water and to Bernie's side. Percy does not see blood, nor injury, only that familiar face. Percy does not notice the hot slick feeling of his brother's body as he turns him to his back.
“Bernie, Bernie, wake-up! What's wrong with you? We got a goose, a nice big one to! Come'on Bernie!”
Bernard does not wake up. Percy feels panic rising like the tide, and looks up at the darkening clouds from the East, deep and grey, that now cover the sky. He looks around for help, knowing there is none to be found and then back to Bernie's pale face.
There he sees two beautiful grey eyes looking back at him full of a strange look.
“Bernie! We got a goose!”
“Perce, I think I am hurt. I think I got shot.”
Percy's brain can no longer wrap him in the safety blanket of denial. His eyes open and he sees the blood, more than he had ever imagined one boy could hold. It's cold and he becomes aware of cold raindrops on his skin.
“We got to get home Bernie. I think a storm is coming. Mom'll know how to fix you up. You hurtin' much? What were you doing down here?”
“No, I don't feel any pain, just kinda hard to get my breath. I was trying to move the geese then I saw this feather.” Bernard closes his eyes again, concentrating on breathing. “I don't know if I can walk, though.” Percy does not want Bernie closing his eyes at all. He sees the long feather in his brother's hand, blood now staining it's base.
“Come'on Bernie, I 'll get the boat ready and you rest, then I'll put you in the boat.”
“Hold on to my feather Percy, I found it here at the shore. It's the best one yet.”
“Yeah, I got it,” Percy shoves the feather under his shirt.
Bernard says nothing but gives a little nod. Percy thinks his brother's face looks whiter than his mother's sheets after washing day. He runs to the shore and hauls the small rowing boat down closer to the water. The tide has gone out since their arrival and revealed slippery seaweed covered rocks. The rain is coming down a little faster and the wind has also picked up speed.
Percy returns to his brother. Bernard is breathing quietly, his chest rising barely visible and a faint gurgle audible. Percy very gently shakes his shoulder as he kneels near him. “Time to go, Bernie.” Percy feels a great calm coming over him as if he is being surrounded by the depths of the sea. The feeling grows stronger as Bernie opens his eyes again and looks to Percy for help. “You got to get up now, Bernie. “
Percy helps Bernie to sit up and the young boy cries out with the effort. His hand flies to his chest in pain. Eyes rolling back, he starts to shake. A sweat appears on his face. “It's ok Bernie. I've got you.” Percy finds himself lifting his limp brother. He seems particularly light. Perhaps because he lost so much blood, Percy thinks, as he walks away from the pond. Slowly he carries his brother around the edge of the estuary. The rain beats down on them. The wind is whipping the sea into small white caps and gulls are floating on the currents as they seek refuge. Next thing Percy knows he is at the boat and laying his brother in it. Bernard moans, but does not wake.
Percy pushes the boat into the salty water with a great shove and jump, the boat is off the beach and rocking on the waves. Percy sits down with the oars in either hand and begin to dip and pull them through the water. “ Might take a little while to get home Bernie. We'll get there though, I'll get you home.”
Percy must row against the wind and waves. He angles the punt off course to make headway. As he rows, he finds himself praying. He loses sight and awareness of everything except rowing. He can hear his mother's voice reciting the lords prayer. The next thing he knows he is being lifted out of the little boat and the oars are pulled from his hands. Sitting in a fishing boat, strong hands with thick voices are talking around him.
“What are they doing this far out?”
“He's been shot?”
“Is he dead?”
“Very nearly.”
“We won't make the mainland in this weather.”
Percy awakes that night in his own bed. Blankets are piled high on him and he is still shivering. His hands sting and ache, he can't move his fingers well. He can hear his mother crying and no sound from his other siblings. He raises himself up and discovers his hands are bound with bandages. He can see his mother sitting on Bernie's bed holding a limp form. Nearby his father sits before the window looking out at the storm. His face looks wet as if the rain has been splashing in though the window.
“Pop, I left the gun.” His father's head drops and his eyes close. “I missed the goose twice.” His mother's crying has quieted. “ I couldn't row fast enough. The storm kept pushing me back. Is Bernie gonna be alright?”
His mother's crying resumes. His father's tall strong back looks bent and old as he stands from the chair and walks to his son's bed. “Your brother is with the Lord now Percy. You don't need to worry. Go back to sleep.” His father lays his hand on his son's head and to Percy it feels heavier than anything he has ever felt before. Sliding back down in the bed he sleeps. Then come the dreams.
******* ********
It's bright and misty all around. Percy is carrying Bernard towards the church, and they are both in their Sunday clothes. The air is warm, everything is green and new. Bernie has hold of the goose. Percy asks him what he plans to do with the bird. “He’s sleeping Percy and I am going to take him home.” Percy walks a little further, Bernie is getting heavy and the church seems further away. “Percy, you don’t need to carry me anymore. I want you to let me go.” Percy doesn't want to put his brother down. “Percy, you cannot carry me with you forever, you need to do your own things.” He finally sets his brother down, as he can't seem to hold him any longer. Bernie stands in front of Percy with shining light in his eyes he spreads his arms wide. “See what the goose gave me?” Long beautiful wings stretch out along his arms. “I can fly with these you know.”
Percy is impressed, but somehow not at all surprised, looking at his brother’s happy smile he asks “Can I try that?”
Bernie lowers his arms and touches his brother’s hand. “Not yet.”
“I am sorry I shot you.”
“I know, it’s ok, I knew I had the better aim.” Bernie winks. “I gotta go.” With that he starts walking towards the woods. Percy can't follow, nor speak and his dream closes in with fog. He dreams then of geese falling from the sky, of blood, shotguns firing and of more falling.
Percy was later told that he had slept for two days. He remained bedridden during the funeral. He hadn’t wanted to go anyway, and no one spoke of the incident to him. Whispers often followed him and instant silences preceded him. His mother’s sad eyes haunted him. His father never retrieved the shotgun.
Percy grew and left the island as soon as opportunity presented itself. He traveled far and worked hard. Until now he had never returned to the island and yet never left it either. The rain had stopped. Percy’s eyes linger on his brother’s name carved in the cold granite.
“ I didn’t listen to you Bernie. I couldn’t put you down. I’ve carried you with me everyday. Today I will set us both free.” Percy’s hand reaches into his pocket and pulls out a long grey feather, tipped in black. Shakily he places it at the stone’s base. “Today I forgive the little boy who took my brother from me.” A drop of water builds in the old man's eye and trickles loose. “It has taken me a long time to come back here. Wisdom can come to even the most stubborn of fools and it has come to me. I have lived my life full of regret and guilt. It's over now, I am running no more, I've come home.”
Posted by KID A on June 24, 2004, at 20:46:00
In reply to A short Story approx 3250 words, posted by Nevina on June 24, 2004, at 14:19:34
a few more line breaks would make this text easier to read.
Posted by Jai Narayan on June 26, 2004, at 14:44:02
In reply to A short Story approx 3250 words, posted by Nevina on June 24, 2004, at 14:19:34
Well written and gripping. A well told tale of human pathos and redemption.
Is it your story?
Are you published?
Posted by Nevina on June 27, 2004, at 20:27:06
In reply to Who wrote this story?, posted by Jai Narayan on June 26, 2004, at 14:44:02
It is my story, my first attempt, and as of yet I am not published but I am hoping to get there. Thank you for your comments. :)
Posted by Jai Narayan on June 28, 2004, at 17:59:45
In reply to Re: Who wrote this story?, posted by Nevina on June 27, 2004, at 20:27:06
Is it a true story?
You are an excellent story teller.
I learned a fact about Geese. They mate for life and if their partner dies....they don't mate again.
Posted by B2chica on June 30, 2004, at 8:38:13
In reply to A short Story approx 3250 words, posted by Nevina on June 24, 2004, at 14:19:34
Nevina, this story is absolutely incredible. this should definately be published.
It just really hits home, things a person carries around that should be let go...but can't. I think this story could help others learn to let go.
I am truly sorry if this story is in anyway true. But it's a gift to others that must be told.
thank you.
b2c.
This is the end of the thread.
Psycho-Babble Writing | Extras | FAQ
Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
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Script revised: February 4, 2008
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