The Path to Glory

“Thanks, Doc. I appreciate all you’ve done.” I say, shaking Dr. Sullivan’s hand.

           “I only wish I could have done more,” he says. “But it’s gone too far, I’m afraid. I’m sorry.”

           “Nay, don’t be. I’m the one who always puts things off. It’s my own fault.” I shake his hand one more time and leave.

As I exit the building, I’m in a world of my own. Passing a couple engaged in conversation, one smiles at me, but I don’t notice. I walk across the parking lot to my car, press my key fob to open the door and flop down in the driver’s seat. Sitting behind the stirring wheel, I feel as though my mind is racing a million miles a minute, but I’m not really thinking of anything. Blinking, I figure it’s just the shock of it all.

Picking up the manilla envelope in the passenger seat, I read my name, David Noonan. Inside are the results of a series of tests that show the outcome is a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. I came to see Dr. Sullivan because I was losing weight and had a backache that wouldn’t go away. Little did I know that these are symptoms of pancreatic cancer. In the end, Sullivan said I have a month or maybe a little more to live. I throw the envelope back on the seat and start the car. Looking into the rearview mirror, I see my slightly yellowish eyes and put my sunglasses on. While backing up, I sigh, “ That’s life for ya.”

I’ve just celebrated my sixty-fifth birthday and recently retired. I owned my own business, a small computer chip etching firm. I did work for three or four computer manufacturers and kept myself and two other employees busy. The shop generated about three to four million a year, but after all the expenses, insurance, and such, I’d net nearly eighty grand or so. That isn’t too bad because I’m single, so all the money was mine. I never felt I should marry because I’m not too fond of the idea of burdening others. You know, like if I got sick or had money troubles. Why make them suffer because of me? I know love means sharing your problems, but that doesn’t sound fair. Besides, I have a sister, two nieces and a nephew. So it’s not like I don’t have a family.

Starting a few years back, I bought a run-down log cabin in the mountain area of Moran, Wyoming, right next to Teton National Park. I’d work on it during my vacations, and now it’s where I live. The forest and mountains are gorgeous and so peaceful and quiet. The cabin itself is made from all hand-hued timbers. It has a small kitchen and two bedrooms, one on the main floor and a smaller one in the loft. The fireplace is constructed of river rocks that rises to the vaulted ceiling.  It sits on one acre of land and is reached by traveling up a gravel road. It will soon be winter, so the pine trees surrounding my cabin are active, with squirrels gathering pine cones.

I have a neighbor about a mile down the road, Eleanor Perkins. She is a widow a couple of years older than I am.  She lives alone and keeps a flower and vegetable garden that she enjoys immensely/ She likes to be called Elli and sometimes treks up the hill to bring me vegetables or a plate of food. Elle is very kindhearted, and I like her a lot.

           Turning into the dirt driveway, I’m greeted with much barking. My dog Blue dashes off the porch and dances excitedly by my car.  He jumps up on me when I open the car door.  I rub his head vigorously, causing his ears to flap.

“Alright, alright! I love you too, but you’ve got to let me out!” About six years ago, I was hiking along the edge of the Teton National Park when I came across this thin hound mix of a dog. I don’t know if he was lost or someone had abandoned him, but he was thirsty and scared. I cupped my hand, poured him some water, and fed him beef jerky. I brought him home and cleaned him up. He seemed to be primarily bluetick, so I named him Blue. He’s my best friend and keeps an eye on me when we walk so he won’t get lost again. I love that old boy.

That night I mix him up a bowl of kibble and make myself half a sandwich. I don’t have much of an appetite these days and don’t even finish that.  Starting a fire, I fetch the wine my employees bought as a retirement present. It’s a bottle of Pina Cabernet Sauvignon D’Adamo of Napa Vineyards. “This is pretty good stuff,” I tell Blue.  He wags his tail and cocks his head. I retrieve the corkscrew and sit in front of the fire. Blue jumps up on the couch and curls up beside me. After uncorking it, I down the first glass unceremoniously. I spend the rest of the evening trying to drown my sorrow in delicious red wine.

I awaken late in the morning to the sound of Blue’s nails clicking on the hardwood floor, needing to go out.  Groaning loudly, I sit with my head in my hands. “Give me a minute, will ya, boy?” But Blue’s by the backdoor whining. Wincing and struggling, I lift myself off the couch, put on my slippers, and shuffle to the backdoor. Out in the yard, I have an old hand pump.  So as Blue takes off to do his business, I stick my head under the spout and pump the handle. The freezing mountain water gushes out onto my neck and head.

 Gasping like a drowning man, I’m now fully awake. I pump the handle a few more times and drink from my cupped hand to slate the awful thirst in my throat. Blue has returned and sits in front of me, panting happily. I shake the water from my hair and push it back with my fingers. “How would you like a good breakfast this morning?” Blue hops around, not knowing what else to do, and follows me into the cabin. I fill his water bowl and give him fresh kibbles. I then fry three eggs and five pieces of thick bacon, make toast, and brew coffee. When it is ready, I crumble two strips of bacon and top Blue’s kibble with one of the fried eggs (over easy), and mix it all together. I have just taken a sip of my coffee and a bite of toast when Blue appears beside me.

“Are you kidding me?” I ask him. “Did you even taste it?”   I take a couple more bites, but I’m already feeling full, so I throw Blue another piece of bacon and scrape the rest of my dish into the trash. I must clear my head because I’ve got things to arrange and preparations to make.  Picking up my walking stick, I call Blue. “Come on, boy. Let’s go for a walk.”

At the end of the gravel road, we enter the park. It’s so nice to hear the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the pines. We come to a meadow of tall grass, and Blue immediately runs full steam ahead into it because he has chased up pheasants here before. Surrounding the meadow are the Grand Teton Mountains, their ragged peaks rising high to the clouds on this bright sunny day. I hear a babbling brook splashing over rocks as it races to join the Snake River not far from here.

 My heart is uplifted at the sight of Blue bounding high over the tall grass. He’s making sure that he knows where I am. I’m reminded of dolphins playing in the waves. A tear trickles down my cheek, and I hastily wipe it away, not wanting to give in to my fate. Today I want to enjoy the hike and Blue.

We take a path that I don’t recall ever having taken before. It meanders up until we reach a stone outcropping. It’s time for a break, and Blue needs some water. I unfold a travel bowl and fill it with water from my canteen, taking a sip myself.  Sitting down on the rocks, I hear Blue lapping thirstily. I slowly look around, surveying the beauty of the Tetons, the high rugged mountains with the forest below. Shadows of clouds racing over the valley in the distance, I see a portion of the river. The clouds appear to be flowing over the mountaintops.  I get a spiritual vibe, and even though I’m not religious, I whisper, “Amen.”   I examine our path and notice a cloud covering the top. It seems strange to me because we are not that high up. Suddenly I have a clear picture of what to do about my dilemma.

The next morning I rise, shower, shave, and get dressed for the day.  I walk to my desk and take out a pad of paper.  Feeling a handwritten note will be more personal than a computer-printed one, and I write down everything I want to say.  I rewrite it several more times until I’m satisfied.  Finally, I fold it in half, write “Elli” on the outside, and prop it against the salt and pepper shakers. Next, I give her a call, “Elli? Hi, it’s Dave. Oh, good, and you? That’s good. Listen, I was wondering if I might ask you a favor. I’ll be gone for quite a while today, and I’d appreciate it if you could come by and check on Blue.  I’ll leave him tied up on the porch. Oh, you can? That’s great. Thank you so much, bye.”

Before I leave, I make sure everything is correct. I call Blue to me and hug him tightly. Tears finally flow.

Half an hour later, Elli arrives to check on Blue. He’s tied to the porch just like I said he would be. “Oh, dear. Dave didn’t leave you any water. Let’s go get some.”   The screendoor screeches and slams shut as she enters the cozy kitchen. “Smell like bacon in here!” she exclaims, “Smells good!” Passing the old wooden kitchen table, she sees the note addressed to her. “What’s this?”  She reaches for the paper and is startled by a gunshot from the park.  “It’s those damn kids again!” she says to Blue. “I’ll bet they’re the ones responsible for all the broken bottles by the trail!”

Elli unfolds the note, “Dear Elli, I hate to do this to you, but you’re the only person I can trust. I have pancreatic cancer and not much time left to live. You know how independent I am, and I would hate to be a burden to my sister and you, feeling as though you would have to take care of me until I die. This is better for me. Please tell my sister I’m sorry and love her and the kids very much.  Lastly, would you take care of Blue for me? He’ll wonder where I am, and I know you’ll love him. Thanks for everything. You’ve been a good friend and neighbor. Love Dave”

Realizing what the gunshot meant, Elli gasps and crumbles the note. “Oh Dave, Poor, poor Dave! You wouldn’t have been a burden.” she sobs.   Elli crosses over to Blue, wraps her arms around him, and cries intensely into his neck. Blue throws back his head and howls mournfully as if he understands.

                                                                           …

Along a path in the Teton National Park, there is an outcropping of rock on which sits a ghost of a man, waiting.  He hears a rustling in the undergrowth and sees a bluetick dog emerge.

“Blue!” Dave exclaims.   The spirit of the dog bounds to his long lost master, “ Why, it seems it was only yesterday that I left you to Elli.”  Blue is beyond joy as he wiggles and swirls all around him.

“Did Ms. Elli take good care of you? I’d say she did because you look a little fatter!” Dave chuckles and ruffs up Blue’s fur. He then takes the dog’s head into his hands and kisses it on the head.

 “I’ve missed you, boy.  But, listen, Blue, I’ve got something to tell you. Do you remember this path from before? The last time we were here, I said something was strange about the cloud being so low.  Well, I’ve been watching people coming and disappearing into that cloud for a while now. Some look like fellow hikers, while others appear to be campers or hunters. The thing is, they are all dead like us! So I figure it has to be the entrance to heaven for lost souls. In fact, I’m sure of it! I’ve been drawn to it for some time, except I couldn’t go without you. But here you are, so what do you say? Let’s go for a walk !”

And the two of them set off, a man brimming with excitement and adventure as a bluetick dog prances beside him, hiking on the path to Glory.