Returning

If there existed a moon in the preternaturally dark night sky, Darin was unaware of it. If pinpricks of stars glittered the firmament, he had no knowledge of them. The thick canopy of forestry surrounding him would have been enough to obscure any such lesser lights, even if the moisture-heavy clouds above hadn't begun their weeping.

But he was oblivious to even those.

No, Darin's view of the joys of the heavens were sufficiently obscured by the malaise that had descended upon him.

Returning from his sister's country house was always an exercise in boredom. Lack of regional stations, and the rocky hills of this part of the Shenandoah Mountains made for muddled radio signals, at best, and grating static at worst.

As such, driving in silence was his only option. Someday he'd spring for a new radio with modern conveniences, like a CD player. But that was for a future he was incapable of grasping.

Even if his wife had been in the car, he would have still been alone. She was typically asleep within minutes, the wave of the road quickly bringing out the sleepy toddler in her.

But she was dead now, these last 6 months.

Driving at night made it worse, because darkness brings on a different kind of silence. A silence more complete, palpable, and unrelenting. With little to focus on but the 100 feet or so that his headlights illuminated of the winding country roads, he had little to occupy him but his own thoughts.

And they were unpleasant.

His sister had invited him out to spend time with family and take his mind off his troubles. But family didn't mean the same thing anymore. He loved his sister, brother in-law, and their kids, but his world had revolved around his wife. He did nothing without her. Or he used to. They were glued together at the heart. Or they had been.

He’d done his best to smile and laugh, to eat and enjoy. But it all felt forced, and while good, the food landed in his stomach like lead.

They’d played a game of Monopoly, a cutthroat family favorite for decades. His sister had wiped the board, as usual, with her St. James Pl. and Illinois Ave. hotel chains. He couldn’t bring himself to care, and actually congratulated her. That was a first.

By contrast, he was bankrupt within 20 minutes, unable to focus on real estate bargaining. He was constantly reminded of his wife, who would normally be the one bankrupt in minutes. A kinder, lighter soul, she would be unable to muster the ruthlessness necessary to compete with his family. She would end up absconding with the comfy chair, focused on a stitching project, several of which now adorned either the bodies or walls within his sister’s house.

Upon reflection, Darin realized that his wife probably lost the game on purpose. Stitching was always more her preference, but she was far too thoughtful to simply say no to the game. One more reason he loved her.

And one more reason he missed her more than anything.

He’d planned on staying overnight. It wasn’t a long drive back home, maybe 90 minutes, but it would be late, dark, and wet when they were done, and that was a dangerous combination. But he couldn’t bear the weight of company any longer, nor the familiar reminders of his wife all around him, and offered a round of hugs and kisses before leaving.

Finding himself on dark winding mountain roads shortly before midnight was not the best decision he’d ever made. Not in his current headspace.

He knew he was in trouble when he couldn't remember an intersection he always traversed on the way home. Had he already gone that far? Yes, the ranch he just passed was much further down the road. Further distracting himself, he tried to remember stopping at the sign, but the past several minutes were a blank.

That wasn't his first mistake of the night, but it might have been his last.

Up to that point, he'd been alone on the road with his own thoughts.

And then he wasn't.

He was speeding out of a valley into a straightaway when his headlights caught the hide of the buck crossing the road from his right. He only had moments to react, with wet pavement limiting his stopping distance. Hoping to pass behind it, Darin jerked his wheels to the right.

That was his next mistake, as the sudden movement, along with his harsh braking, caused him to fishtail. Steering into the movement, he progressively straightened himself out as he came to a stop no more than a dozen feet from the deer.

Breathing hard, Darin stared at the animal, heart pounding, in shock, caught by the gaze of the beast.

The enormous buck stared back at him, standing his ground, immovable, unfazed by the near collision from a 1.5 ton SUV. Darin had never seen a Whitetail buck this size. Easily 4 feet at the shoulders, he counted 12 points on his rack. He was majestic, his head held high, dominating the road, if not the forest itself.

Darin found his reason, and briefly shut off his headlights, allowing the frozen deer to move along. But the buck hadn’t moved when he flipped them back on.

He saw sudden movement in the trees behind the buck, as a regal doe peaked out and began crossing. She seemed unhurried, despite the imposing vehicle. As she began to pass the buck, another figure emerged, this time a young faun.

As the deer family crossed behind it, the buck stayed put, continuing to stare in Darin’s direction, as if to freeze Darin in place, and not the other way around.

Darin felt his soul pierced by the sight.

Protective of his family, the buck was holding fast. Unlike Darin, he was unwilling to be moved, unwilling to let anything, even a vehicle at least 10 times its size, force him from his purpose.

Darin thought he knew his purpose. He thought that was to protect his wife, to see her safely to old age, and to gladly follow her there. Too often, he felt that he hadn’t done enough for her, as if he could hold back the cancer with the force of his own will. Lambasting doctors seemed to be his only outlet, and that never lead anywhere good. In the end, it was his wife’s own gentle spirit that allowed him to come to terms with her situation and allow her to move on with the next phase of her eternal life. She had never wavered from her faith, even if he had lost all hope.

After it was over, Darin had been so caught up in his own mourning that he’d forgotten the other important things in his life. He’d lost sight of the love his family had for him. His family who was still with him and needed him as much as he needed them. He began crying at the thought.

Just then, the doe and faun having completed their crossing long ago, the buck seemed to nod briefly before turning and following them.

Darin stared after them a few moments longer before releasing the brake pedal he’d been mashing during the brief encounter.

It was time for him to move on, to recapture his life, and reconnect with the ones whom he’d neglected for far too long.

His son was waiting for him at home. He too was mourning, and it was time for Darin to return.