Brief Encounters

Arthur had made a big mistake. He had left Bismarck in a hurry, trying to reach Carson as quickly as possible. His wife was there at home, and she had been 7 months pregnant when he left for the big city. He had been gone for 3 weeks.

He had packed light for the journey back, not thinking that the light snow would impede him from being present at his child’s birth. He was wrong. A few hours in, the snowfall thickened and the wind picked up. At first, it was an inconvenient delay, but soon he was barely able to see 100 feet ahead and his horse Juniper struggled to wade through the drifts. He had known that going to the city in the winter was a dangerous prospect, but a friend had sent him a message stating that there was a valuable work opportunity there, and it wouldn’t be around long. He couldn’t afford to let it slip, for his new family’s sake as well as his own. But now, as the day faded, he questioned if he would make it back at all.

In the last minutes of sunlight, Arthur finally caught a glimpse of a faint outline in the distance. It was a homestead. Arthur was incredibly relieved, but also anxious. His life now depended on the goodwill of strangers. He dismounted and led his horse to the porch, tied it to a pole, and knocked on the door. No response. He knocked again, more urgently this time. A few more seconds passed before the door finally cracked open. An eye peeked out suspiciously and examined him before the door opened completely. Before him stood a man and a woman, the former with a shotgun in hand and a mean look in his eye, having just opened the door. “Alright, come on in then,” he said begrudgingly.

“Thank you so much,” Arthur groveled. From behind the man appeared a woman, the same height as the man and of stocky build.

“Are you alright?” She probed. She kept her distance.

“Yes, Ma’am. Just a bit of carelessness on my part.”

A few moments of awkward silence followed.

“Oh, would you like some soup?”

“Actually, my horse, might you…?”

“Oh, of course. Patrick, show him to the stable, would you?”

A few minutes later, Arthur was sitting at a dinner table while the woman prepared soup. The man sat next to him warily. He still hadn’t let go of the shotgun.

“My name is Jennifer. And that’s Patrick,” The woman said in a dour tone.

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement. As the soup warmed, Arthur spied a head peeking out from a doorway further into the house. Either someone was on their knees or these people had a child. He said nothing about this discovery and tried to ignore it, but a few too many wayward glances tipped Jennifer off.

“Oh, little Johnathan.” She said warmly. Patrick had already started moving toward the child and gently pulled them away out of sight.

“He’ll be 9 come spring.” She continued, not looking at Arthur. She didn’t seem very happy about it.

The following dinner was pleasant and eased Arthur’s anxiety. Patrick eventually returned without Johnathan, and Arthur told explained why he had been so reckless in travel. After listening to his story, Patrick seemed to relax a bit, finally setting the gun down nearby. There wasn’t much else to do, and they continued to exchange tales of the past for some time. Even so, the couple had a certain sadness about the way they spoke, never joyful about their memories for more than a moment. Despite this, afterwards Arthur believed he had made them feel at least comfortable enough not to think about kicking him out.

Jennifer offered him a cot to roll out on the floor, which Arthur gladly accepted. He snuggled in and thought about how his child would look when they turned 9 years old.

When Arthur woke up the next morning, the first thing he saw was a face. Little Johnathan was crouching beside him, watching him. Arthur wondered how long he had been there. After a few moments of silence, he tried to break the ice.

“Good morning,” he tried.

No response.

Johnathan sat with his legs to his side, staring silently. He had dark hair and icy blue eyes. As his drowsy head cleared, Arthur became fully aware of the situation. He was slightly intimidated, not wanting to offend his hosts by so casually interacting with their son. But the sun was barely illuminating the windows, and the boy’s parents didn’t seem to be awake yet. The storm was still raging. Arthur rose to his feet and gave the boy his best gentle smile. Johnathan didn’t smile back.

“Are you usually up this early?” Arthur asked tentatively.

The boy shook his head.

Arthur struggled for something to keep the silence at bay. Then he remembered a perfect escape:

“Well, I’m going to check on my horse Juniper. You stay inside, alright?”

Arthur pulled on his coat and went outside into the elements. He fought the biting cold and whipping wind to get to the stable where Juniper snorted in greeting. Reassured, he caressed her and took the time alone to decompress, introducing himself non-verbally to his hosts’ two horses. When he returned to the house, Patrick and Jennifer were there, who both jumped at his entrance.

“Where were you?”, Patrick said accusingly.

“Just checking on my horse.” Arthur made his most harmless expression.

Patrick didn’t press further and let him off with a threatening look. Jennifer went back to making breakfast, while Johnathan played with toys and miscellaneous household objects in the corner of the living room. Unsure, Arthur sat down on a large chair about halfway between the dinner table and Johnathan. But soon the child walked up to Arthur and tugged on his sleeve. This caught his parents’ attention. Concerned, Arthur looked to them for approval. They gave no indication of worry, so Arthur followed the child to a spot in the corner of the living room. Johnathan sat among his array of toys, which included a stove pan, a shoe, and a log of firewood. He handed Arthur a small wooden boat and said: “You’re the sailor.”

Arthur was confused but played along.

“The sailor just left the beach and he is going to the place where his favorite bear friends are,” Johnathan explained while pointing at the shoe and the pan. After a few moments, Arthur caught on and moved the boat between the two.

Enthused, Jennifer came over and tried to join in.

“Is the sailor happy to see his friends again?” She asked with a smile.

“No,” Johnathan replied, somewhat unsure. “He doesn’t know if they like him back.”

Jennifer was taken aback, and Arthur tried to cover for her: “He must have been gone for a long time.”

“Yes,” Johnathan said, looking down at the boat. “A long time.”

The play session continued as Johnathan orchestrated the sailor’s journey, but Jennifer was discouraged. She was rarely able to say anything that Johnathan seemed to like, and so she chimed in less and less as the child talked with Arthur more and more. Patrick just watched from a chair nearby with a somber look on his face.

Eventually, the sailor completed his journey, but some of his friends were gone when he arrived, and not all of them were happy to see him back. Arthur then asked Jennifer if he could help around the house, but she declined distantly, with a hint of disdain in her voice. Patrick took him up on his offer instead, requesting his help tending to the horses. Arthur obliged, and followed him through the storm to the barn. Once there, Patrick led the horses out of their stables and began cleaning one while Arthur cleaned the one beside it.

“Johnathan likes you,” Patrick said.

Arthur was surprised. He hadn’t thought Patrick was capable of small talk. Arthur responded conservatively: “Well, I suppose he doesn’t seem to dislike me.”

Patrick fell silent for another moment.

“It looks like Jenny’s gettin’ a little jealous,” He eventually continued.

Arthur feigned a confused look, but in truth, he had suspected this.

“Jenny’s never really understood John. Doesn’t make sense right? She’s his mom. There should be some kind of natural connection there. Can’t blame her for being frustrated, I guess.”

Arthur didn’t say anything.

“He’s always been a bit hard to get for me too.” Patrick sounded like he was struggling to get the words out.

Silence again.

Patrick suddenly stopped cleaning.

“John has three weeks to live.”

Arthur stopped as well.

“Excuse me?”

“Three weeks.” Patrick wouldn’t meet Arthur’s eyes. “That’s what the doctor said.”

Arthur was speechless.

“Wh- why-“

“You’re the first person we’ve seen in a while that gets along with him.” Patrick nearly choked. “We’re out here in the middle of nowhere, so he doesn’t have any friends. Even his parents can’t make him happy.”

Arthur couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

Patrick finally looked Arthur in the eye. His were filled with incredible sadness and mad desperation.

“Stay.”

Patrick stomped into Arthur’s stable, grabbed him by the shoulders, and stared into his soul. “You can make our little boy happy for the rest of his life. You can give him what we couldn’t.”

“But-“

“John doesn’t know. He shouldn’t know. He thinks it’s just a normal month. I know you have your own family to get back to, but you’re the only hope we have.”

Arthur was struggling to process this information. Patrick was now manic.

Arthur started slow: “Is there really nothing that can be done?”

Patrick shook and hung his head. “We tried 3 different doctors. They all said the same thing. It’s incurable.”

Arthur tried to stay calm. “I can’t-“

“It’s just 3 weeks!” Patrick interrupted. “Your baby probably won’t be born by then! Even if you miss it, they’ll still be there when you get back! Mine won’t be very soon! Please!”

Arthur was stunned into silence again. After a few moments, the light in Patrick’s eyes faded and he let go of Arthur’s shoulders.

“Sorry,” He murmured, looking away.

Arthur was speechless. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts and realize the significance of what Patrick had just told him. Even then, it still didn’t feel real.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said carefully. It was the only thing he could say.

When Arthur and Patrick returned to the house, Jennifer could tell something had happened. Ashamed, Patrick walked past her and into the back of the house. With an apologetic look at Arthur, she quickly followed her husband. Arthur noticed Johnathan in the corner again, still managing his own little world. He walked over and sat down with the boy.

Arthur remained mostly silent, only speaking when the boy prompted him to. He thought about many things during this time. Among them was honoring Patrick’s request, but Arthur quickly banished the thought. All he had done since he arrived was tear the parents further away from their son. He couldn’t continue to do so, not when they needed him the most. Suddenly, Arthur realized it was strangely quiet, and looked out the window. The storm had died.

Only an hour later, Arthur had retrieved Juniper and gathered his things. On the porch outside the door, after the awkward pleasantries, he gave Johnathan a gentle handshake and laid a firm hand on his shoulder. To the parents, he gave a look of sympathy, but also of grim determination. It was the best farewell he could think to give. As Arthur rode off toward Carson, he thought about what tragedies he and his wife might face in the future. Nevertheless, he made a vow that day never to let anything come between his heart and his child.