HUNTER LAKE 17/100 Where did Henry go?

HUNTER LAKE 17/100 Where did Henry go?

It was right before dawn. The cold chill on the prairie waiting to lift. She loved that time of the day. As she looked out the bedroom window, she saw what she always saw and waited for and anticipated, a slight brightening of the horizon, the moment between night and day, where if you blinked it would disappear and you would miss the miracle of daylight.

She reached over to his side of the bed, the covers were thrown off, the bed was cold. He was able to slip into bed and out without her noticing, not like before his stint with military. A time when they chatted over the day, talked about the children, planned for the next day, thanked each other for the life they shared together. Yes, things had changed. Henry was back, or was he?

As she put her feet on the hardwood floors and lightly stepped down the stairs to the kitchen, the damp chill of the night reminded her, how much she missed her old life.

Alma fumed. “Henry, where are you?” She didn’t raise her voice, usually didn’t, but the last few years, even though they communicated over social media, now that he was here it felt as though they were years lost.

The kitchen waited, the automatic coffee pot had brewed her morning welcome into the day, and she walked down, still looking. An empty coffee cup sat silently at the edge of the sink, in the mudroom Henry’s boots were absent from the black tray where everyone left their shoes when they entered the house. It was the only way to stop the endless cleaning from the prairie dust and dirt and mud and everyone understood the need to keep the house clean, it was never a burden. It was a family habit that allowed everyone to enjoy time in different ways than continuous cleaning up after everyone else. Instead, the family joined in cooking and board games, in conversation about the plans for the farm. There was no resentment about cleaning up dirt, that after all belonged on the prairie as part of the nutrients that kept the food on their table.

Alma opened the door and closed it behind her, hoping her voice wouldn’t wake the children. “Henry” This time she called out, in a pitch that allowed her voice to carry across the prairie and hopefully not echo into the second floor bedrooms. She looked up and saw the windows slightly opened, one by one the bedrooms lit up. She shrugged her shoulders and walked back.

“Here.”

Alma jumped. Henry was around the shaded side of the house, a bunch of kale in his arms. “You’re so quiet, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Something I learned in the military, I guess, sorry.”

“You look tired, not sleep?” said Alma.

“Listen Alma that fence thing, I still can’t believe it.”

“You know, it used to be that neighbors looked out for neighbors, something happened while you were gone. The governor decided to bring money in, and well, the whole state was emptying out, the oil companies promised jobs and money for the state coffers was filled.”

“The Midas touch.”

“Right about that, the land is unusable.”

“For anything.”

“Sold their soul to the devil.”

“The devil made them do it.”

“Ha.”

“The kids are up.”

“Been two days.”

“Since I got back right?”

“Something’s changed.”

“NO, everything has changed and something new is happening.”

The familiar sage smell, the dry grass whistle, the gold reflection of the sun on the yellow field, and a brighter white of repainted weather worn wood on the two story house greeted him. This was the world of his dreams, the world he lived in, and it was good.

A white chintz curtain waved in the kitchen window as heads bobbed up and down and shouts of joy poured out. The kitchen screen door slammed open as his loved ones stumbled over each other in a race to get to his side.

The squawk of a Grebe overhead as it searched for its only safe landing mingled with the children's squeals. It circled for a moment as Henry's children raced towards their father. Then, at the edge of Henry's property, a flash of a pristine blue reflection signaled the prehistoric bird's home, Hunter Lake. The Grebe's characteristic dive would end out at a nest in the reeds when it surfaced. As he dove he spotted his chicks nestled in the feathers of the mother Grebe.

Henry sighed. Everything was as it should be. He remembered his Dad admonishing him to protect the wildlife. "They're like you son, they survive. You survive." His Dad had pointed at the Grebe, a bird that required a unique habitat, one this particular North Dakota lake afforded. "You see, the Grebe don't run like ducks, they just fall over. Without the lake, they can't take care of the young'uns."

“The farm looks the same, better, because of you.” Henry put his arms around Alma.

“We still have protected wildlife areas, the prairie gardens and the family truck farm.”

“You did that Alma, provided food for the neighbors and the town. Alma and the kids did it. Ie saw it on Skype for the last years.”

"Come here, you." Four girls and a toddler, his wife Alma; he opened his arms as the children approached, the youngest climbed up Alma to get near.

"Junior." Alma scooped him up.

"Daddyyyyy." He squealed with delight when perched on Henry's shoulders.

Henry crunched his eyebrows in a double take. His wife Alma stood taller than he remembered. She seemed to grow an inch as their kids climbed over him like leaves on a tree. He gazed into her sky blue eyes as she wrapped her arms around Ivy, Rose, Sunny, Paradise, and looked up at Henry Junior who wriggled tallest over all of them with his arms outstretched in imitation.

"Love." The word slipped out of Alma's lips and it rose around them and swirled up to the sky and joined the clouds in the bluest sky that Barnes County had seen in the last two years.

Like a giant Yedi he moved back into the house, entire family in tow. He was ready to reenter his life.

"Henry, don't get mad, there's something happening here." Alma looked away.

"I'd hope so, it's been two years." Henry held Junior in his left arm as he marched to the house. "This guy's a spittin' image of the family."

"It's about Ole." Alma shook her head.

They made it back to the house as Henry shook his head. "He doesn't get it does he?"