Original photos used with the written permission of the owner.

DEMONS

by Kim Roberts

© 2000

CHAPTER 3

Author's Note: Thank you, Mary, your assistance in this chapter is greatly appreciated.

“That’s better,” Rachel said to herself as she tip-toed across the room carefully avoiding the floorboards known to squeak. Rachel stopped at the side of the bed and gently tucked the thin blanket around Buck’s bruised and bandaged body before slipping out of the room. Closing the door behind her, Rachel wondered why she was trying to be so quiet. Buck wanted her to think he was asleep, but she knew better. He would have been much more relaxed had he really been resting. He was only pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. Obviously, he was still upset with her about
Ike’s trunk.

Rachel was upset with herself, too. If she hadn’t insisted on rearranging the bunkhouse and moving Ike’s trunk, Buck would not have been in the hayloft and the bizarre accident would never have happened. Rachel felt it was her fault and wanted to make amends, but Buck wasn’t ready to give her
the chance.

Once he was certain Rachel had left the room, Buck opened his eyes. He felt a brief pang of guilt for trying to deceive Rachel but he didn’t want to talk about what happened. He just didn’t feel like it. The pain in his chest wasn’t as bad as the night before but it still hurt a great deal. As long as he remained still and took shallow, controlled breaths it was bearable.

He remembered waking once in the night trying to suppress a scream as pain shot through his chest. He had evidently tried to change position and the intense pain had torn through the veil of sleep. Or maybe he did scream. He really couldn’t remember. Teaspoon had been there immediately with a
heavy dose of the sleep inducing medicine and it worked quickly, but the laudanum brought a heavy, unnatural sleep. He had awakened in the morning with an odd feeling, as if he was fighting through cobwebs in his mind.

Buck had grown accustomed to waking in the night, choking back the urge to scream. The images in his dreams caused as much agony as the broken bones. But, the laudanum had soothed his throbbing body and held the dream at bay. He didn’t like the foggy, confused feeling but a little peace, evidently,
came with a price.

Kid raised his hands shielding his face from the flying mud as Jimmy’s palamino leapt through the sticky muck covering the station yard.

“Ride safe, Jimmy!” Kid said before breaking into a wide grin as he gazed lovingly upon the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Hey, good lookin’,” he called to Lou as she reined Lightning to a halt and slid from his back.

“You need glasses, Kid. I’m a mess,” Lou exclaimed, jumping over a puddle that lay between her and the man she loved. Both she and Lightning were covered with mud and grime from the sloppy trail.

“Don’t care,” Kid answered, glancing quickly around the yard to make sure no one was watching before he wrapped his arms around her. “Glad you’re home. I was worried ‘bout you last night in the storm.”

“Got lucky. I made it to Willow Springs and got a room at the hotel before it hit,” she answered, returning the embrace. “This is Buck’s run, why is Jimmy taking it?”

Lou listened intently as Kid explained the events of the day before, an incredulous look covering her face as he described their friend’s accident.

“He did what?” Lou exclaimed. Buck was cautious by nature, Lou was amazed that such a thing could have happened.

“Rachel saw him fall. She’s pretty shook up about it. Blamin’ herself for movin’ Ike’s things up there.”

“Well, it ain’t her fault,” Lou said. “Will you rub down Lightning for me while I get cleaned up?”

“Sure, long as you meet me in his stall later,” Kid answered with a mischievous grin as he led the mud covered animal to the barn.

Lou smiled softly, wondering how it was possible to love someone so much. Ike’s death had some how strengthened her relationship with Kid. They both still missed Ike terribly, but the overpowering grief of his death had passed. Many hours had been spent late at night holding each other, crying, remembering the young man they were proud to call their friend. They talked of their belief in heaven and were both certain it was an even better place for Ike being there. The tears still came, occasionally. Losing Ike hurt and would for some time, but they had come to accept his death. Lou prayed Buck could soon do the same.

Lou clutched her clean shirt to her bare chest at the sound of the bunkhouse door opening.

“It’s just me, Lou,” Rachel said placing a fresh load of laundry on the table. “Sorry I barged in. I didn’t know you were back.”

Lou finished dressing and turned to watch Rachel absentmindedly folding a large sheet. It was evident to her that Rachel’s mind was not on the laundry.

“Let me help,” Lou offered, grabbing the loose end of the sheet.

“Kid told me what happened, Rachel. It ain’t your fault. Buck’s just real sensitive about things right now.”

“I should have realized it was too early to move Ike’s things,” Rachel admitted.

“I think I can understand how he felt,” Lou said thoughtfully, “It might be too early.” After thinking for a moment she added, “But who’s to say when it’s the right time? Buck will be fine, you’ll see.”

“Still, I’d feel better if he’d let me apologize,” Rachel said, accepting the folded sheet from Lou.

“I’ll talk to him.” Lou offered. “Is he asleep?”

“No, he’s been playin’ possum all morning so he doesn’t have to talk to me,” Rachel explained as Lou headed toward Buck’s room. “Maybe you can cheer him up. See if you can get him to take some more laudanum. I imagine he needs another dose by now.”

Buck recognized the sound of Lou’s footsteps and opened his eyes as she approached. He was relieved it was Lou. If anyone came close to understanding how he felt, it was she. He had seen the tears as her eyes fell upon the empty place at the supper table. He was certain Lou still grieved.

“So, how are you feelin’?” Lou asked as she sat on the edge of the bed, creating just enough motion to cause Buck to wince in pain.

“I’m alright, just tired,” he answered after the pain subsided.

Lou picked up Ike’s drawing from the bedside table and smiled softly at Ike’s interpretation of himself. She had not seen this one before. Doc Barnes had pried the wet piece of paper from Buck’s grip the night before and laid it on the table to dry.

“I’m glad you saved it,” she began, “but you could have been hurt real bad. You gotta be more careful, alright?”

“Is it ruined?”

“No,” Lou assured Buck as she handed him the drawing. “Just a little crumpled is all.”

Lou wanted to ask Buck about the trunk incident but it wasn’t the right time. He looked awfully tired and she could tell by his labored breathing that he was in pain.

“Rachel said you need to take some more laudanum,” Lou said changing the subject.

“I don’t want it, Lou. It makes me feel strange.”

“Strange in what way?” Lou asked picking up the bottle to examine it more closely.

“It’s hard to explain. Sleepy mostly and so relaxed that I don’t feel anything,” Buck answered, searching for the right description.

Lou looked at her tired friend and smiled. “Now let me make sure I understand. You need to rest and it makes you sleepy. You hurt and it takes the pain away. Why is that bad?” Brushing his hair away from his face she added, “C’mon Buck. It’s just medicine.”

Buck thought for a moment but couldn’t explain his apprehension about the drug. Lou was right, his excuse didn’t make much sense.

“Tell you what,” Lou began. “You take some of this and stop givin’ Rachel the silent treatment and after supper tonight I’ll find some heavy books to press the wrinkles out of Ike’s picture. Deal?”

Lou poured what she thought was enough laudanum into a glass, and then added just a bit more for good measure before offering it to Buck.

“Drink it,” she commanded with the authority of a general.

Buck forced himself to swallow the caustic liquid.

“Does it taste as bad as it smells?” Lou asked taking a whiff of the open bottle.

“Worse, try some for yourself,” Buck mumbled, resting his head back against the pillows to wait for the drowsy, floating feeling to take over.

Lou leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Hoping a little good natured teasing would lighten his mood she answered, “Don’t need to. I’m not the one who fell out of the barn.”

Buck knew Lou was trying to cheer him up but it just didn’t work. He held the pencil image of his best friend against his heart and wondered if he would ever feel anything but sadness again. It was a feeling he knew all too well.

Growing up in the Kiowa village as a half-breed had been difficult, to say the least. Red Bear loved him but he could never understand his brother’s misery. Happy times for Buck had been few and far between. He left the Kiowa hoping for a better life, but experienced the same amount of hatred
from his father’s people. The feelings of hopelessness, the beatings and laughter at his expense continued. The only difference was the faces of his tormentors were white instead of red.

Ike had been a happy child and knew the love and acceptance of a family, but the murder of his parents and sister had thrown him into a sad, silent and unreachable world.

Once the two oddities of the Catholic orphanage found each other, things began to change. Although as opposite as night and day to the eye, Buck and Ike grew to realize they really weren’t so different. As their friendship grew, they began to fill each other’s needs. Ike needed to speak so Buck gave him a language. Buck needed to experience fun and Ike uncovered a mischievous side Buck never knew he had. The sisters of the orphanage were the victims of more than one of the pair’s well executed pranks. Both boys needed to express the heartache of their painful pasts and found comfort in each other’s understanding embrace. Together they laughed and cried.Now that Ike was gone, Buck couldn’t recall how to do either one.

“Any supper left Rachel?” Teaspoon asked hopefully. “Where is everybody, anyway? It’s quiet as a tomb in here.”

“There’s plenty left,” Rachel answered. “Not many to feed tonight. Noah took that short run to Blue Mound this afternoon and Kid and Lou are… are busy.”

Teaspoon shook his head and sat down at the table. He still had a hard time believing he hired a girl as an Express rider and now that girl was in love with another Express rider.

“You’re late tonight,” she remarked as she placed Teaspoon’s supper on the table.

The Marshall threw his hat and coat on the bench and breathed an exaggerated sigh. “Barnett must be good for somethin’ but I swear, I don’t know what it is. Think I’d be better off without him. He couldn’t even handle a simple bar room brawl tonight. Did Buck get along alright today?” he asked
hopefully, shoveling in a mouthful of food.

“Oh, he slept most of the afternoon. Doc said he was doing fine but needed to stay in bed another day. He ate a little supper and then dozed off again.”

“Good,” Teaspoon replied between bites. “He needs some rest. A body don’t work right without it. Probably why he keeps having one accident after another. If he’s in bed, he can’t hurt himself.”

Buck reached out for Ike but unseen hands pulled him away. He tried to fight against them but the force was too strong, his struggle only increasing their hold on him. Buck quickly turned around to see who was preventing him from reaching his friend, but found no one there. Ike’s ghostly pale face turned toward him, his eyes expressing deep disappointment in his friend. Blood began to flow from the wound in Ike’s chest soaking the bandages wrapped around him. When the cloth could hold no more, the blood ran onto the bed and dripped to the floor forming a deep red pool at Buck’s feet. Ike slowly shook his head in disapproval as his body began to fade away.

Buck tried to call out to Ike, but he couldn’t speak. “I’m sorry!” he cried silently. “I tried Ike! Please forgive me!” he pleaded, frantically searching for his voice.

Buck bolted upright in bed, his heart racing, as Ike’s body faded away just out of his reach. The dream was so real it took him a little while to remember he was in the spare room of the bunkhouse not the doctor’s office. Ike had been gone for a month, not just a moment.

His broken ribs reacted violently to the sudden movement and sent waves of pain throughout his chest to remind him of their presence. He tried to take a deep breath to calm his pounding heart, but the tight bandage supporting the broken bones prevented it.

Buck’s jaw tightened as he slowly lowered himself back into the bed. His entire body hurt. Lying in the same position all day had caused a terrible backache and the tender, bruised areas covering his upper body seemed to be competing for attention. He didn’t realize it was possible to hurt in so many different places. The doctor told him a good night sleep would help, but Ike’s piercing stare seemed intent on not allowing it.

Buck thought he understood the dream, at least the first part of it. It was reminding him he had failed Ike. He failed him that day by not reaching him in time to stop his dangerous actions, as a best friend should, and he continued to fail Ike each night by not reaching him at all.

Buck had begged the spirits to release him from the grip of this dream but his pleas were ignored. Each night before he closed his eyes to sleep he silently recited chants remembered from his childhood. He held his medicine bundle tightly and tried to think of happy times with Ike. He remembered placing a bullfrog in the Reverand Mother’s desk and watching it leap into her lap as she opened the drawer or the long quiet walks he and Ike took to escape the other children of the orphanage. Oh, what he would give for a happy dream. But it never came. Perhaps he was being punished for his failure.

Now he just wanted to sleep, to sleep hard with no dreams, not even good ones. He could not understand how something so simple had become so difficult. But he knew if he closed his eyes again, Ike’s haunting image would be there. As so many nights before, Buck decided not sleeping at all was preferable.

Wide awake in the dark room, Buck wished for a little company. He felt a twinge of jealousy as the soft sounds of snoring drifting through the bunkhouse confirmed that its occupants were asleep. So were Teaspoon, Rachel and everyone else in town. He wondered if they knew how lucky they were,
how much he envied them. Depressed and lonely, he settled back against the pillows to wait for the morning.

Buck had spent other lonely nights watching the horses in the corral or sitting on the porchsteps waiting for the moon and stars to move across the sky. It didn’t make the long hours move by much quicker, but it was something to do. The night sky was cloudy and he couldn’t see much of it through the window, anyway. He certainly couldn’t get up. Even thinking about moving hurt. It was going to be a long night.

Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, Buck glanced around for anything that could help pass the time. A large stack of books sat on the table beside him, the edges of a piece of paper showing beneath them. “Lou remembered,” he thought to himself. It was probably just as well that he
couldn’t look at Ike’s drawing. He was afraid the eyes would show as much disappointment in him as they had in his dream.

Buck reached for the glass of water on the table next to the books, clenching his teeth in the pain the movement caused. He brought the glass to his lips but recognized the smell. It was laudanum, not water. Lou or Rachel had evidently poured it for him while he slept. Disappointed, he started to return the glass to the table but stopped as he remembered Teaspoon’s words from the night before. “It will do the trick.”

Teaspoon had been right. It took the pain away and he had rested without the dream interrupting his sleep for the first time in weeks. When Lou had given it to him earlier in the day, the effects had been rather pleasant - soft, and soothing, like floating on a cloud.

It concerned him that he couldn’t control the way the laudanum made him feel and self control was important to Buck. He remembered, though, the Kiowa Man of Dreams often used herbal drinks to bring visions and he accepted that practice without question. Maybe this wasn’t so different.

“A little bit won’t hurt,” he thought to himself. He would rest and tomorrow would be better.

Buck drank about half the amount in the glass, surprised that the taste and smell didn’t bother him as much as before. “Must be gettin’ used to it,” he presumed.

He leaned into the pillows behind him, anxious for the drowsy feeling to come, but the feeling the laudanum caused was different than before. Rather than bringing sleep, the medicine brought a heightened sense of alertness. He felt strangely calm but excited at the same time.

In the quiet of the night, he heard sounds. Incredible sounds. He heard a mouse run across the floor at the other end of the bunkhouse and knew which direction it went. He could hear Kid and Lou softly breathing in the next room and was able to distinguish the differences between them. He heard
himself breathe and was fascinated by the rise and fall of his own chest. Tracing the outline of the bruise on his shoulder he noticed what a beautiful color it was. The scar on his chest from the gash Red Bear inflicted on him was intriguing, too. It felt so different from the skin around it. How strange he had not observed these things before.

Buck’s attention was diverted by a tiny light in the room. He watched the firefly in amazement as it played hide and seek with him, appearing and disappearing. “How wonderful it would be to glow!” he mused and held his hands before him wondering if he could, too. To vanish and then appear somewhere else would be such fun.

Buck pondered these marvels for a time until his eyes closed and his limbs grew too heavy to move. A warm, safe feeling settled over him, almost as if he was cradled by invisible arms. “Lou was right,” he conceded as he drifted into a deep sleep. “It’s only medicine. How could it be bad?”