Susan

By Jan Janes

She buried him and ran! She couldn't run fast enough or far enough to get away from the horrendous grief.

He stood there, gave terse orders, and everyone immediately did his bidding. Susan, slightly hazy, obeyed every word, and it set her on a new and completely strange life of wonder and the West.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798886160574

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Susan

Jan Janes

ISBN 979-8-88616-056-7 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88616-057-4 (digital)

Copyright © 2022 by Jan Janes

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

1

2

3

4

5

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7

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9

10

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12

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22

About the Author

1

Susan loaded the last of her worldly belongings into the back seat of her car and ran her fingers through the damp curls clinging to the nape of her neck. The warm spring wind was drying the tears on her cheeks, and her forehead was releasing the wisps of soft brown hair that had stuck there in the dampness as she gathered the meager personal items she had shared with Tom during their short time together.

Tom and Susan began a life without much thought to material things because they were rich in love. They fell in love while they were in the eighth grade and never had eyes or hearts for anyone else. They knew the ecstasy of true love and never doubted their ability to build a wonderful long life together. Marriage came as soon as they graduated from the local high school, and they moved to Little Rock to begin Tom's education to become an engineer.

Tom was a little over six feet tall—six-foot-four to be exact—and blond as a Norwegian. His blue eyes changed to aquamarine each time he was in deep thought or angry, but they sparkled and adored when he looked at the love of his life.

Susan found a job quickly as a receptionist in a doctor's office, and Tom enrolled in college. The pay wasn't much, but the joy of being together offset the financial hardships. Their meager resources were enough to pay the rent and grocery payment. Susan sewed for both of them and loved making the curtains for their tiny apartment.

The apartment had been mistreated by the former resident, the showerhead broken, and the bathroom floor needed replacing, so Tom made a deal with the landlady to do the work for the rent for the first few months. They repaired, painted, and papered the tiny home, making it truly theirs.

She recalled the breeze blowing the yellow print softly over their bed on the spring evenings as they planned the dream home they would build. Tom would design the structure, and Susan would decorate it in the Victorian style she so loved. They had dreamed of the children they would raise together in rooms of their own, done in baseball motifs and angels. Boys and girls, many children to fill their home with love and laughter. They envisioned the children with Tom's eyes and Susan's nose, laughing together at the combinations.

Susan's world crashed to the depths of despair three weeks ago with a phone call. Tom was in ICU and unresponsive; she had better hurry. He was gone before she got there. A drunk driver had swerved across the yellow line and hit Tom's old pickup head-on. He never knew what happened, and Susan had been grateful that he didn't suffer. But she suffered, suffering that couldn't be described. Life was now meaningless, and she still felt like her feet were moving without actually being able to feel the surface she stepped on.

Death causes reactions that can't be explained. Susan's family begged her to come home and stay. Tom's dad had offered her a rent house in their hometown, expense-free and close to the rest of the family, but she had thanked him and refused the offer. How could she walk down the streets she had shared with Tom all of her life, knowing he wouldn't be there with her, ever?

The funeral had been over for several days, and the insurance policy Tom's folks had taken out on his life had paid the expenses of properly burying her beloved. Friends had gathered, condolences had been received, and it was time to move forward or away. Susan could not determine which, but she knew she had to move.

The old car she drove away from her mother's house ran like a dream. Tom had overhauled the engine, and they had reupholstered the seats together. The dents had been removed and the body sanded and primed for the shiny paint on long summer evenings in the quite Arkansas town under stars that seemed to hold such great promises for the young couple.

Susan swallowed hard and stepped back into the tiny apartment for one last look at the only home she would ever share with the man of her life, the other half of her being. The floor shone with its new wax, and the air was fresh with cleaning mixtures. The appliances were free of any smudges and pristine inside. She longed for the smell of Tom's shaving lotion that had hung in the air every morning they had shared there. Shaking her head to dispel the longing, she slowly closed the door, turned the key in the lock, and gently shut the storm door behind her.

The landlady refunded the advanced rent and the deposit Tom had paid and gave the wounded young lady a loving hug. She told Susan she had certainly enjoyed having them as renters for the short time they were there and thanked her for leaving the apartment so clean. Susan read the pity in the elderly lady's eyes, said goodbye, and quickly left.

The traffic was light as Susan left the city, but she felt a sudden fear clutch at her heart. The oncoming traffic made her heart beat faster, and she felt the palms of her hands grow damp. She was letting her mind race, fear was beginning to control her reflexes, and she was getting dizzy.

How did Tom feel? What did he do as the killer vehicle careened toward him? she said aloud, realizing she was hearing her own voice.

She fought her mind as it returned to the tunnel of agony she knew well. Did Tom suffer pain? Did he think of her as his body bled and his soul escaped this earth? Or did an angel come to escort him into the presence of Jesus in heaven?

The doctors and officers had tried to ease her suffering at the hospital, telling her that Tom had died immediately, hadn't known what hit him. She couldn't believe he could die without thinking of her. Their love was so strong the death angel must have had to wait on Tom to at least think of her!

Susan was leaving the city behind. She was about ten miles from the apartment, and she needed to stop. The little convenience store on her right was the perfect place to regain control of her emotions. She signaled and turned in. The quiet of the car as she turned the key off was like a blanket of calm. The hot tears came again, and she laid her head on the steering wheel and sobbed, the cry of deep and unceasing pain.

Susan realized someone was talking to her, and she looked up into a very concerned face.

Are you okay, ma'am? he was saying with his brow knitted in a worried fashion.

Thanks, yes, Susan managed, wiping her cheeks and eyes dry of the tears. I just need to rest a moment and make some decisions. Do you mind if I stop here for a while?

He backed up a step, straightened his back, took off his cap, and scratched his head. He was looking Susan in the eye with a fatherly gaze, trying to figure out what had brought on this lovely young woman's sobbing episode.

That would be fine. Do you need something to drink? Or could I call someone for you?

No, thanks, she was beginning to regain her composure, I don't really need anything except to decide where I am going.

He smiled. She knew he was at a loss to tell why she was on the road without a destination, and he pointed toward the store.

I have some Arkansas and surrounding state maps inside. Would you like to have one to look at for a few minutes? Might help you decide which direction to head.

Susan smiled, her blue eyes still showing signs of tears, and her lips were like tight rawhide, but she felt a relief knowing she had mustered a smile.

Thank you, that would be helpful. I'm looking for a place to settle. You know how difficult it is to leave home, she lied, hoping he would think she was just suffering the pangs of leaving home the first time.

Maybe you should consider going back home for a while, just to talk things over. He turned to walk into the store.

I guess he thinks I'm some sort of nut, flying the coop without thinking about all the disadvantages of being on my own, she thought. Oh, how I wish that were the real reason I am such a mess this morning!

Susan stepped out of the car and rubbed her hands together in an attempt to feel them, feel anything, rather than the desperation she was experiencing. The sun was still in the heavens, and the breeze of spring was blowing like it always did, softly and then with stronger gusts, but she seemed to be in a glass enclosure, nothing touching her, feeling nothing but loss and desperation.

Here you go. I found a couple of the last year's issue you can have. They aren't outdated, just looked at and refolded in a strange way. He handed her a package of rather dusty maps. She could feel the kindness in his heart and see the wisdom of his years wanting to be of more assistance than what she was allowing.

I surely do appreciate your help. I will look the state over and pick a spot to land. She smiled again, offered her hand in thanks, and slid back into the car.

The maps were crumpled, folded several ways other than the manufacturer had intended, but the task at hand was at least a welcome change for her pained mind. Susan spread the map of Oklahoma on the seat beside her and took a deep breath.

2

I won't go south. Too close to the memories. I like the dry hot summer weather and the crisp blue skies of the west, the friendly people of the area, and no one there knows or knew Tom—a catch in her throat, an involuntary muscle spasm of her heart—and I have to move on. I would have given my life for him, but I wasn't given that choice, so here I go, she remarked to the emptiness in her life.

Emptiness had never been a part of Susan's life. She had grown up in a loving, loud family. Her mother was fun and high-spirited and loved the way her husband's voice filled their home with laughter and joy. She had unconsciously taught her daughter to trust and love her future husband above all things. Susan had seen her mother devote herself completely to the man she married, never having a regret she had said, I do, and she did!

Susan's school years had flown by, filled with studies, Girl Scouts, and beaus. Emptiness was not a familiar place and beginning to be a hated place in her life.

The highway she chose quickly left the city, and greening hills was the major scenery on both sides. Susan had decided to travel west-northwest to a small town marked as a dot on the map, the dot on an old, crumpled, dusty map being the entire information Susan had of this place she had chosen.

Sandhill, Oklahoma, she rolled the name over in her mind and verbally tried it out. Sounds like an ideal place to bury the past and begin a new existence.

Susan was lost in thought, sometimes flowing into the yesterdays she shared with Tom and sometimes trying to foresee the future but never lingering in the present. She began to relax, her muscles exhausted from the month of long grief she had just survived. She switched on the radio, found a station with some nice music, and chose to direct her thoughts forward again. There it was again, yesterday, but farther than she even knew she remembered.

That sweet aroma of her mother, just a whiff of vanilla and the clean fragrance of dried-on-the-line clothes, flooded her mind. Susan laid her head back and closed her eyes. She could see her dad walking toward the house from the barn, his gait slow. He had a bucket of milk in one hand and a basket of eggs in the other, her mom rushing to help, smiling at the man she adored. Mrs. Charles instinctively brushed a curl back from her forehead as she straightened her blouse. She was always neat, and even in the hay field, she required of herself to look her best for him.

The work was hard on the rocky eighty acres the Charles bought when they married. The plow dug up more rocks than they could ever haul away, although they certainly tried. The crops of tomatoes and green beans were never enough, the hay for the few head of cattle was never enough, and when a couple of years of drought hit. they couldn't make the loan payment.

A local banker made the offer, and Mr. Charles was glad to take it. They paid off the loan, bought a house in town, and he found a job at the canning factory. The job paid good, and because he could fix almost anything, he advanced into full-time year-round work.

Susan's mother made the little house a home. She raised the children and helped out at the church in many ways, besides teaching a class of nursery children. There was no need for the girls that she couldn't take care of. The dresses she made for Easter, Christmas, or the prom were all exquisite and fit perfectly.

Mr. Charles planted a huge garden, and they canned enough food to last through the winter and then some! A milk cow and a dozen red hens were added as the money was available and a little barn and chicken house could be built. The cow was staked out to graze every morning by one of the girls, Susan usually because she loved the smell of the grass as her feet crushed it and mingled with the breath of the little doe-eyed Jersey; it was delicious.

I know I will miss my family, miss my old home, but I just have to make a new start somewhere Tom has never been, she shook herself mentally and sat up, ready to move on.

I should be able to find a job in a clinic, maybe a secretarial position in a business. I have enough money to rent a room and live for a month or so before dire circumstances set in. Where will I look for a room? The daily paper, I suppose, is the place to start, she was mumbling, needing to discuss her situation with someone, even herself.

This town will probably be just like home—the local feed store, cafe, post office, service station, and a couple of hardware-general merchandise stores with a big lot filled with new and used farm implements.

Susan didn't know if she needed familiar things in the town she was searching for. A town just like the little settlement she had grown up in, kept alive with the business of agriculture and the few stores, or one that was totally unlike home, no agriculture, no sunny smile and hello at the post office.

Yes, that is exactly what I want. I've had the life in the city, not knowing your next-door neighbor and afraid to walk around the block at night, I want the same kind of community I grew up in, she resolved.

The sun was making it almost unbearable in the car as the afternoon wore on. Susan stopped at a little store along the route for a cool soda and washed her face in the restroom. She felt so much stronger than she had ever felt in her life; tired but strong and unafraid of the future.

The soda was wet and tasted sweet, but coffee might have been better, considering the aftertaste in her throat.

I will try new things and old things, again! she vowed to herself. "So the soda was too sweet. How would I have known if I hadn't tried it? she pondered. I am going to live to the fullest, the fullest my grief will allow, and I will find the life I am searching for!"

The scenes changed from hills and trees to scrub brush and then to native grass pastures, and the sighting of a home along the road was beginning to be a challenge. The cattle were moving to the water tanks, windmills, and creeks for their nightly watering. The sun was slipping into the horizon like a big wet red silver dollar into a lucky gamblers vest pocket. The colors were as bright and unfettered as Susan was beginning to hope her new life was going to be. The green pastures turned to a dusty blue in the twilight, and the whole country softened into a velvety evening.

Twilight had settled, and the rising moon was just bright enough for Susan to see the terrain she was passing. The cap rock was visible around the miniature mesas, and the canyons were awesome. The books she had read about the West were coming alive in her memory.

Cap rock, she thought quickly, that's what that is—the crust of the earth during the days of creation, before the wind and rain had a hand in sculpting it into natural masterpieces.

She knew that the earth was a brilliant red in the light of day, and the sage brush were a soft sage green, creating one of the most beautiful and colorful landscapes in the world. The wind and rain, for thousands of years, had cut the canyons and carved the mesas with a powerful hand, the hand that still could deal deadly storms and wind. The people who lived in this rugged country were strong individuals, enduring harshness with a quite determination. They came in covered wagons and homesteaded these farms and ranches, built homes, raised families, loved, and died, leaving their children and grandchildren to carry on the torch of life on these plains.

The cemeteries were old, dating back to the late 1700s. History books had told her that. Now Susan wanted to enter this world of the pioneers, a new and uncharted course in her life lay before her, and as she topped the hill, she let out a little gasp. The soft glow of the sleeping town of Sandhill, Oklahoma, lay below, nestled at the foot of three large hills.

Susan pulled the car over into a rest area provided by the State Department to allow tourist to view the scene below. She stepped out into the evening, and the gooseflesh on her arms made her hug herself. The air was warm. The reaction wasn't caused from feeling cold. It was a physical reaction to actually feeling. Susan could feel her feet were on the ground; her mind was clear and her heart didn't feel like a dead weight in her chest.

A new life, new beginnings, new friends, and a way to go on with my existence, Susan prayed silently. Dear Lord, let me live here in your grace and be content.

Sandhill was twinkling with the lights of evening. Streetlamps along the main street and one block on either side looked like Christmas tree lights set to blink because of the tree limbs moving ever so slightly in the gentle breath of the Oklahoma night. The sunset had left a coral glow in the west, framing the scene unlike any artist could.

A ball park on the outskirts of the hamlet was washed in light, and a steady stream of vehicle lights turned into the area. Families supporting the youth, the promise of tomorrow, playing and learning together.

The traffic was nonexistent on the two-lane highway she had traveled to the town below. She could hear the sound of the automobiles below, but the silence surrounding her was like a cloud of cotton, pulled from the bottle of painkillers, enticing her to partake of the drug. She sat down on the edge of the overlook, felt the dirt in her hand, curled her fingers into a fist holding the red clay, and raised her arm. She opened her hand a tiny bit and let the earth slip through the slit, watched the dust move ever so slightly toward Sandhill.

"Why even hesitate? The very earth