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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Time to Heal - 1. Chapter 1

As I sat there sipping a cup of coffee, the morning sun was starting its arc to the top of the sky. A year had passed since I first saw the tired Victorian hiding on the crest of a hill wrapped in old trees shielding it from view. The realtor and even I thought I was out of my mind to buy it. The old woman had died at ninety-two leaving it and the surrounding acreage to her niece who lived in Maine. Living in California, I had found it listed on the internet. After my tragic loss, I had become a sick man trying to die. Friends begged me to seek the care of a physician, but I didnt want to live. I finally submitted to their begging to seek care.

"Have you recently experienced any traumatic events in your life"

"Yes..four months ago my companion in life was killed in a car accident".

"There is no reason that your body would degenerate so rapidly according to the tests". "Would you consider seeing a counsellor?"

"Yes"

At this point in my life, I would have done anything anyone asked since I didnt care if I lived or died. Without Joey, I had no reason to live and dieing seemed like a more attractive alternative. The physician set an appointment with MaryAnn for the next day. "Why are you here?"

"Dr. Bonham suggested I come see you"

"What prompted him to suggest that"

"He said my tests showed no reason as to why I am so sick. I have lost 40 pounds in four months. I have no desire to eat. I live off of coffee and cigarettes".

"What happened?'

"My friend, comapnion, and lover died in a car accident. Without him, I have no reason to live".

"What have you dreamed of for years that you have not done?" I had to think on that for a while.

'I want to go home"

"Do you mean you want to leave my office to go home?"

"No, I want to return to the mountains in Virginia. I was born there"

"Then start today making plans to go there".

"I will".

I called the realtor listed on the web to make inquiry. She seemed a bit hesitant to make an appointment for me. "Mr. Branson, the property is in sad shape. The old woman died five years ago leaving it to her niece who made one trip to the place, gathered a few family items then listed it with me. I have shown it only once. You can barely travel the old driveway due to overgrowth and it is washed out making access only by four-wheel drive.

"No problem, I want an old place in rough shape. I need a big project"

The realtor seemed totally shocked when after a walk-through, I said, "I'll take it. Write up the papers" It was what I wanted..a place that needed so much work that I would be so busy that I would not have time to think about my loss.

I needed a few things at the grocery store, so I got dressed. As I pulled onto the state road, I noticed a truck off to one side with a person standing beside it. The hood was raised and he was leaned over into the engine compartment. "Are you having engine problems?"

"Yes sir, my battery is dead. I thought I could make it back home, but didnt quite get there". As he turned to face me, I saw Izahk for the first time. For me to be speechless is a rare thing, but I was stunned by his warm, handsome, and friendly face with a shy gentle smile. "I need to buy a rebuilt generator for this old truck, but dont get paid until Friday so I have been charging the battery at home before leaving for work".

"Where do you live?'

"Just a mile from here on Dogwood Lane You must be Mr Branson, I have seen your truck coming by my house. I live in the trailer at the end of your driveway. My name is Izahk, sir"

"I have seen the trailer. A bit more in the Winter without the leaves, but I had not met you yet. Pleased to meet you. Hop in and I will take you to my house where we can use my spare battery to get your truck off the road".

"Thanks you, sir, I appreciate your help"

Izahk and I got aquainted as we rode along. I was unaware that his granny had died six months earlier. Now, he lived alone with his cat. I discovered that he worked at what is locally called 'The Flour Mill' "What do you do at the mill, Izahk".

"I work in the shipping department. We load the trucks and have to clean up when a bag breaks. That's why I look like a ghost. He laughed and I laughed.

"Well, at least you can roll yourself into a ball and make biscuits when you get home from work"

"What temperature would you suggest for the oven?" I liked him. He was fun and quickwitted.

"I think that 98.6 would work"

"But, sir, the bacon would burn before I was baked".

"Good point..guess you would be better off taking a shower and using Bisquick for the biscuits"

We arrived at my garage to load the battery. "Do you have tools handy in the truck to switch these batteries?"

"Yes sir"

I had steeled my heart from hurt, by staying to myself avoiding any contact other than people at the building supply store and the garden center. I kept the conversation light and simple when there avoiding anything other than business conversation. With Izahk, I found myself enjoying his company a lot more than I wanted to enjoy it. In fact, I was loving every minute of it. On our trip back, I found out he was twenty years old and had been reared from birth by his grandmother. He had dropped out of high school at sixteen and passed the GED test and was attending the local community college as he found money to pay the tuition and purchase books and supplies.

"Drive your truck up to my garage and it will be easy to fix that generator problem".

"But, Mr Branson, I wont have any money until Friday".

"I will pay for the rebuilt one and you can leave your cat as security" By then, he realized that I loved to tease him and be playuful. This was one more signal to me that I had a crack in my armor that protected my heart from hurt.

"But, you will have to feed her and clean up her litter pan".

"Ok, you keep her for me until Friday"

I think I surprised him when I asked him to drive my truck. "I have never driven a truck this nice"

"I have never had a chauffer as nice as you" Half of me was thrilled to be around him and the other half was in stark terror. I knew that I liked this much too much. He got the generator swapped out.

"How about some lunch?"

"Sir, you have been so nice to me. I dont want to be a mooch"

"Ok, I will charge you for lunch"

"How much?"

I wanted to say, "How about a kiss", but instead said, "How about helping me load that heavy stone block into my wheelbarrow''.

"It's a deal" I found myself doing anything I could to delay his leaving. And, he seemed to be putting up no fight to leave.

We worked the afternoon away restoring the old stone wall that had crumbled. He was strong and skilled willing to do as I instructed. In these old mountains, the afternoons can be boiling hot. He asked permission to remove his tee shirt. I didnt even make a feeble attmpto to keep my eyes off his body. My hands did behave so I didnt touch him. I wanted to touch him, but somehow managed to retrain myself. In the two years that I had been there restoring the old place, I had lost all interest in body contact. I would average about four hours of sleep each night. The rest of the time was spent working inside on days when working outside would have been miserable. On suitable days, I worked outside. I think my body only slept from exhaustion. I found myself looking at his beauty, an exotic beauty, cocoa shaded skin with dark auburn curly hair and crystal green eyes. We would stop for a smoke break with some iced-tea I had made. The afternoon sailed by quickly.

"Please stay for supper, Izahk"

"Twist my arm". I got up walked over to him taking his hand in mine.

"How hard do you want me to twist it" giving it a gentle turn.

"That's enough, I'll stay"

I think I heard the sound of armor cracking.

Copyright © 2011 Harmon Anderson; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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