James J. Doyle, Jr., a.k.a. Grandpa Jim

“I lost my husband.”

I turned and watched the lady staring and speaking out the window into the parking lot. She was neatly dressed and did not appear to be distraught. I thought, I like that line. I Lost My Husband. It would make a good title for a story. I finished my check-in with the nurse, walked over and sat down beside the lady in the waiting room.

“Where did you lose your husband?” I asked.

She smiled a small smile, seemingly unfazed by my overture, leaned over and said quietly, “That’s a story.”

“Tell me,” I said. I was early. My therapy session didn’t start for a while. 

She started, “Well, we hadn’t planned to hike that day. But the Ranger called and said there was an opening for the South Rim Trail. In Big Bend National Park.” She gave me a questioning look. “Do you know it?”

“I do. I’ve hiked that trail.”

“We hadn’t. But my husband and I were prepared. We had on good hiking shoes, and we were carrying extra water. We started early. The Ranger said that the trail would be long and rocky, but he was confident we could make it up and back in the day.”

“Did you?”

“I did.”

“Your husband?”

“He didn’t.” She paused and glanced out the window.

“I’m listening.” I prompted.

“Well. We made it to the top. The trail up was difficult. But the top was green and cool. We saw deer. We kept walking, enjoying the rising meadow and the trees. Almost to the South Rim, we could see way off in the distance where the Rio Grande cuts through Santa Elena Canyon. Have you?” She glanced over.

“I have. It’s a beautiful view.”

“Yes, it was. Then. . . .”

“Then?”

“That’s when I saw him. I stopped, but my husband must have kept walking. I don’t know. But I saw him and I stopped.”

“Him?”

“The Indian. I knew it was an Indian. They lived up there in the summers. It was cooler, with water and game. The Ranger told us their campsites had been found. They buried their dead near the South Rim. A long time ago. Near the South Rim. Where I was standing. I saw him. . . .” 

“And?”

“It was the strangest thing. I saw, him but it was like I could see right through him. He was looking right at me. It felt. Well, it felt good. I felt good. Then, he was gone, and I turned around, and my husband was gone. For a moment, I thought I heard something. Then it was quiet, very quiet. I just stood there. I don’t know how long. I just stood there.”

“Your husband?”

“I looked. I searched for hours. It seemed hours, to me. I don’t know how long. He wasn’t there. Where I could see. It was getting later, in the afternoon. I knew I had to start down, to get back before dark. I couldn’t stay up there overnight, by myself. I had no gear. I hiked down. At the Ranger station, I told them everything.”

“What did they do?”

“They searched. I hiked up with them and showed them the spot. And they searched, but we didn’t find him.”

“Your husband?”

She turned to me and sighed, “I lost my husband.”

My name was called. “I’m sorry. I have to go. Therapy, you know.”

“Yes. Thank you. Thank you for listening.”

* * *

She was sitting in the same chair.

“Can I join you?” I asked.

She looked up and smiled. “Yes, I remember you. You listened to me.”

“I did.” I took the open seat next to her. “Your husband?”

“I’m waiting for him to pick me up.”

“You found your husband?”

“Yes, well, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Well, it’s him, but when I Iook at him. You know, how you can look over at someone out of the corner of your eye? When they don’t know your looking, but you are?”

“I know that look.” I answered.

“I mean he’s very nice. Nicer in ways, many ways. I don’t know.”

“How did you find him?”

“I didn’t. They did. The Rangers did. Someone reported seeing someone. They went up and they found him. Near the South Rim. Sitting on a rock. Staring far off. Toward Santa Elena Canyon.”

“When did they find him?”

“Just after we talked last. It really wasn’t that long. I guess.”

“What do the Rangers say?”

“They’re very nice. They really are, but they don’t say very much. They smile and nod.” She paused. “One Ranger did say something.”

“Something?”

“Yes, she said, ‘Strange things happen on the South Rim.’”

“And you?”

“Oh, me, I’m fine. I really am. I feel good. I do. I feel good. It’s just that. . . .”

“Just what?”

“You know that look?”

“I know it.”

“Yes, well, when I look over at him. When I do that, and he doesn’t know I’m looking. . . .”

“What?”

“It’s like. Well, it’s like I can see right through him.”

My name was called. “Sorry. My session. Got to go.”

“Yes. Thank you for listening.”

I stood and turned back to her. “Will I see you again?”

“No. Oh, I should have told you. We’re moving.”

“Moving? Where to?”

“Study Butte.”

“Just outside Big Bend National Park?”

“Yes. We bought a house there. In the desert. We wanted to be closer.”

“Closer?”

“To the Park. It’s only a few miles to the Chisos Basin in the Park and the trail?”

“Trail?”

“To the South Rim. The trail to the South Rim.”

I was curious. “Whose idea was it to move?” I asked. “To move closer to the South Rim?”

“That is odd. It really is. It was. Well, it was both our ideas. We both decided we wanted to be closer.”

I noticed the nurse, shuffling her feet, waiting for me. 

“All the best on your move and your new home.” I smiled and moved away.

At the door, I glanced back, out of the corner of my eye.

She was staring off into the distance, through the window, into the parking lot, and, for an instance, it was as if I could see right through her.