MY FOOLISH HEART
MY FOOLISH HEART
No, I didn't die. Of course not. I'm telling this story, aren't I? Although I have to admit that there was a point when even in my semi-conscious state, I knew it was touch and go. I could feel my life ebbing and flowing. My body drifted away, my mind struggled to bring it back. Voices swirled around my ears like feathers in the wind; I could never catch them.
My thoughts mixed together, jumbling moments in time. I was at a funeral, sobbing, but it was Lou's funeral; I had a gun pointed threateningly, but it was pointed at my father, and he wore a hat just like the Kid's. The fever overtook my brain, and I saw my mother leaning over me and I called out for her. I saw Stidham standing in the corner and I threatened to kill him if he came any closer. It was as close to madness as I was likely to ever get. When I awoke it was to silence in the room. I could hear the soft rustle of the wind whistling around the house. I was in my bed, in my room, and I was alone.
Voices were outside my room. The door was closed. I tried to lift my head, but my neck was weak and did not support me well. I tossed back amongst the pillows and tried to think what day it was, how I might have gotten there.
"Hello?" I called. My voice was low, but surprisingly strong. "Hello?"
The door opened. My heart lifted, expecting to see Lou, but it was Harry who walked into the room. He managed to look both sheepish and concerned. His shoulder was in a sling. "Hey, Raff."
"Harry," I greeted him. "What day is this?"
"It's Monday."
I had lost two more days. If I continued at this rate I'd have whole weeks I couldn't account for. "Are you feeling better, Harry?"
He nodded, gently patting his shoulder with his other hand. "Doesn't hurt near as much as it did. How are you feelin'?"
I concentrated for a moment and felt the pain seeping into my consciousness. My chest felt as if it had been ripped open. I was shirtless, the sheets pulled up to my arms, and I lacked the courage to strip them away and look at my wound. My ankle was still sore, the spot on the back of my head still tender from when I had fallen. "Not so good, Harry. I'm falling apart at the seams. You sure picked a hell of a time to be gone."
Harry relaxed. "Wasn't exactly by choice, Raff. I couldn't
believe it when I saw that snow start fallin'! The doc let me stay up at his
place. I
figured I could head back here the next day, but it just didn't let up. I figured
you'd be all right," he said anxiously, "otherwise I woulda come
back."
I smiled. "It's all right, Harry. I was fine. I wouldn't have you risking your life to save my sorry carcass anyway."
"Me, either," he grinned.
"When did Lou leave?" I was unable to keep from
asking the question. Harry looked puzzled. "Lou ain't left yet. Those friends
of hers did, 'cept
for the skinny guy; but Lou's still here."
The skinny guy. Kid.
"You were really lucky, Raff, that Injun friend of Lou's was able to remove the bullet and then she dressed your wound up real nice. It's gonna hurt like a sonofabitch for a while, but you'll be all right." He paused, his eyebrow raised. "What the hell happened to you while I was gone, anyway? You got frostbite on your toes, your head's all banged up, your ankle's twisted, your skin's all windburned. You look like you've had a hell of a time. I didn't think one little ol' girl could cause that much trouble."
"You have no idea, Harry," I laughed.
"Want me to send her in, Raff?"
"If she wants to see me."
"I'm sure she will. She's been right anxious ever since that man a'hers shot you. What's goin' on, Raff?"
I knew what he was referring to. When he had left Lou had been an angry captive, lashing out at me and receiving my lashes in return. Now she was sticking around long after she could have gone free. In answer I shook my head, hoping to convey that it was too complicated to explain.
Harry shrugged and left the room. A moment later I heard Lou's voice nearing my bedroom door. She was bickering with someone. "I do *not* want you to come in there with me, Kid! I am goin' in alone." I didn't hear Kid's reply, but I heard Lou's: "You think he wants to see you? You shot him, dammit! I'm goin' alone."
There was silence and then I heard her tone soften, grow heavy with love and affection, "I know. You're right. I love you, too."
The door creaked open again and Lou shut it behind her. She came to the foot of my bed. "Hey."
"Hello."
"Mind if I sit down?"
"Please do."
She carefully deposited herself at my feet. Resting her hand on my arm she said, "How you feelin'?"
"Like I've been dragged through hell and back," I answered truthfully.
Lou laughed. "You're a sorry sight," she agreed.
"Gee, thanks."
Her tone was affectionate, as one friend to another. "You're handsome as ever, Rafferty, but you look like you been rode hard and put away wet."
"What a vivid image," I chuckled. "You, on the other hand, look alarmingly beautiful."
She blushed and ducked her head. "I borrowed one of your sister's dresses. My other clothes got all bloodied."
"You're welcome to it," I assured her. "But it's something other than the dress, I think."
"I reckon it's bein' back with the Kid. He makes me feel real good inside."
"It shows."
"Thank you."
"Lou, why did you stay? You could have gone."
She looked surprised. "Why would I leave? Lord, Rafferty, I had to be sure you were all right."
"That's kind of you, Lou, but you shouldn't have concerned yourself."
"Don't talk like that. I care what happens to you. You're my friend. It's been the nicest kidnappin' I ever been a part of." She slapped my arm teasingly.
"I love you, Lou." I couldn't help it, it just came out.
Her smile faded. "I know, Rafferty. I'm sorry."
I sighed. "Well, it can't be helped."
"You need to find yourself a girl, Rafferty. I know you
could. You're smart, clever, charmin', good-lookin', funny..." She trailed
off and looked
away. "I came so close, you know, to feelin' that way for you. I'd look
into your eyes...they're such a pretty green...and sometimes I knew you wanted
to kiss me, and I came so close to kissin' you." Her eyes turned back to
mine. "But I been down this road before, Rafferty. There was a time I thought
I had feelin's for another man, and I followed those feelin's, and it ended
up in a lot of hurt. You see, I love Kid. I love him with everything I got in
me. And I can't let my appreciation for a handsome face and a nice laugh get
in the way of that. Because when it all comes down to it, he's the one I want."
I closed my eyes against the eloquence of her reply, willing my heart to go on beating. Her words killed something inside of me; some hope, perhaps; some willingness to believe that if I wanted something badly enough it was within my grasp. I opened my eyes again and faked a smile.
"Well, at least you think I'm handsome."
Lou giggled, relieved that I seemed to have taken it well. "You're what Rachel would call a mighty fine sight for appreciative eyes."
We laughed.
"Thank you, Lou, for staying. It means a great deal to me."
She clasped my hand within both of hers. "You're welcome."
"I suppose you'll be going now."
"Yes. Kid's itchin' to get outta here. The other boys went back. I wish you coulda met them."
I grinned wryly. "I'm not very keen on that idea."
"Well," she admitted, "they weren't all that fond of the idea, either. I'm sorry Kid shot you. That don't seem adequate somehow, but I am sorry."
"Don't apologize. I'm sure I would have done the same in his shoes. You don't always see clear when you love someone."
"Under other circumstances you woulda liked them and they woulda liked you," she said.
"Then I'm only sorry we didn't meet under different circumstances."
Lou was silent. "I better go."
"Yes, fine. Harry will take good care of me." I used my brightest, cheeriest voice.
Lou rose from the bed. She stretched her hand out. "Come and see me sometime, will you?"
"No, Lou, I don't think I'd better."
Her face fell, but I could see in her eyes that she agreed. She held out her hand. I took it and we shook.
"Goodbye, Rafferty."
"Goodbye, Lou."
When she opened the door, the Kid was on the other side. He stood like a statue, his face frozen into subdued anger. Our eyes met across the room. He was a formidable fellow. Our gazes locked, for just an instant, and then he broke off to take Lou's arm. It was a subtle gesture reminding me that I had lost not a game or the prize of Lou's love, but my own heart. It was gone forever. I would never get it back.
I sat around a goodly length of time and generally just felt sorry for myself. I moped, I fretted, I yelled at Harry more than was strictly necessary. I was a moody, irritating pain in the neck. Which is pretty much where I began this story.
But one can only go on like that for so long. Eventually laying around
feeling pitiful got on my nerves. I've once again begun to make my way in
the world. My chest is beginning to heal nicely and my ankle has quickly restored
to its usual strength. I was indeed a mess when Harry came back, but my body
has begun to recover.
I've thought of Lou every day since then. I think of something she said,
or the way she laughed, or the kindness in her eyes. I love her. It irritates
me that I still do, but I can't seem to stop. My heart has truly betrayed me,
the foolish, irrational thing.
I suppose I would still be feeling sorry for myself, pitying myself for loving a woman who doesn't love me back, if not for the reminder that Lou will never forget me, either. I must be content with the knowledge that she does care, even in some small way, and with the knowledge that when I went to retrieve my poem from the book of Shakespeare's sonnets, it was gone.
She has taken it with her.