Portersville - J.W. Osborn (black authors fiction TXT) 📗

be able to help you get your memory back, or at the very least be able to find the cause of the seizures.”
Joe crossed to an empty stall and slid the door open. “I don’t know,” he replied “The idea of brain surgery doesn’t sound good..”
“It may not come to that, Pa,” Brian said “All I am asking is that you go to see him. You can always walk away if it is not right for you. I think the cause of the amnesia could be solved better if we could find out why you are able to remember some things, but not what happened to you and why these buried memories come to the surface after the seizures. I feel that if one day you can remember what happened, then we can help you get your life back. You may not remember the other day at Grandfather’s cabin, but you spoke Mother’s name and called Sam by her given name,the name I am told you yourself gave her. “
”I remember,” Joe said sadly, but I could not grasp all of it and pull the memory out of the darkness. “When I came to, I was holding your sister in my arms and she was weeping on my shoulder.”
“She was indeed and she now believes what Grandfather and I have believed all along,” Brian said with a warm smile on his handsome face.
“And what is that?,” Joe replied as he stuck his pitchfork under the dirty straw at his feet.
“That you are our Pa.”, Brian replied.
As Joe stared at Brian, a warm feeling came over him, a feeling of caring and pride. A distant feeling, yet one that felt familiar. “You have called me “Pa” twice,” he said.
“Maybe I should have done that from the beginning,” Brian replied.
“Thank you.,” Joe said quietly.
“Will you think about going to Saint Louis and seeing Frank Evans?”, Brian asked.
“I would go today if I thought they could help me remember my life here,” Joe replied “But what if I am not the person you, your sister and Scrub Pot think I am. What if I am....”
Brian cut him off, “You are Joseph Marley Dodge,” Brian replied firmly. “And no matter what, we are your family and we want you back.”
The edge in the young man’s voice was strong and stubborn, just like someone, someone Joe wanted desperately to remember, and suddenly the image of a Texas Ranger on a paint horse flashed across the black void that separated him from his past. Seeing the confused look in his eyes, Brian was quick to reach out. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Joe replied “I saw something, but I don’t know who it was or why?”
“Something is happening.,” Brian said worriedly “Sit down.” A little shaken, Joe sat down on a sawhorse.
“What did you see?”, Brian asked.
“A ranger on a paint horse,” Joe replied “That was all.”
“Doc was a Texas Ranger,” Brian said “he rode a paint gelding. I remember that horse.”
“And his eyes are the same color as yours.,” Joe answered.
“Whose eyes, Pa?,” Brian encouraged ,“think!”
“Sarah’s brother.” he said. Now his head was spinning “Elliot. We rode together.”
Brian threw his arms around his father.
“Praise God,” he cried “Thank you Jesus! Now, will you come to Saint Louis with me?”
Tears were rolling down his face, tears that had never been shed for his losses. His hands were shaking as he took those of his son. “I will go, Brian.” he said , “and I will remember.” As they walked to the open door of the barn, Brian noticed his father rubbing the back of his neck. He could tell something was bothering him. “Are you all right, Pa?” he asked.
“I thought I was going under, like before,” he said “but it didn’t happen and I don’t know why. But every time I feel one of those spells coming on, the back of my head starts to hurt and the pain becomes unbearable.”
“Come on back to the house with me,” Brian said “I’d like to make sure you are all right before you start working again.” Joe agreed and a few minutes later he was sitting in the parlor with Sam holding a lamp for extra light while Brian pulled back Joe’s long dark hair to look at the back of his head. Carefully he ran his fingers over the ugly scar that started on the right side of Joe’s face and disappeared into his long thick hair. “It looks like a bullet trail,” Brian commented. “Were you ever grazed by a bullet?”
“If I was,” he said “I do not remember it.” Suddenly Brian looked up at his sister, “Sammy, go get me two mirrors, I want Pa to be able to see what I found.” She set the lamp down and dashed up stairs to her bedroom. Brian had found a thick lump of scar tissue at base of his father’s skull. He touched it gently and heard Joe draw in his breath sharply. “Sorry,” Brian apologized, “I am used to working on horses. I did not mean to hurt you.”
“That is where the pain comes from,” Joe told him “And leave it alone.”
“All right,” Brian agreed. “I think I know what may be wrong.”
“What ?”, Joe asked.
“From what I found at the end of that scar, it looks like you were shot from behind, a long time ago. I can not be sure, but I think the bullet, or part of it is still lodged in the old wound and putting pressure on you brain.”
“Then why am I still alive?”, Joe snapped as Sam returned to the room and handed him a mirror while her brother held the other one behind Joe’s head, so he could see for himself, the wound left from that terrible night all those years ago. “Someone wanted me dead,” he said to himself.
“There is a hard lump back here,” Brian said “and I think Dr. Evans will find that it is the cause of your memory loss and the seizures.”
Joe scrutinized the reflection he saw in the hand mirror he held and his mind began to drift. He could hear the shouting, the gun fire and the roaring of the fires around him, he could hear that voice, shouting to him.. But he was moving and did not turn around. “What is it Pa?”, Sam asked as she watched the haunted expression on his face.
Joe Dodge looked up at his daughter. “It was Doc trying to warn me to get out of the way. Something hit me from behind.”
“It was a bullet, Pa,” Brian said “and I believe that it is still there.”
Sam put her hands on her father’s shoulders. “We have to see this doctor Brian knows,” she said as she looked him in the eyes. “We are all going, you ,Brian, me , Jerrod, and Grandfather.”
Joe reached up an covered her hand with his. “Looks like we’ll be going to Saint Louis one day soon,” he said.
Sam smiled at him. “You bet we are.”, she replied.


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Bear Claw
Grant County Texas


Joe carried the fire wood inside and dropped it in the wood box by the kitchen stove. Scrub Pot was sitting at the table reading his bible. It had been a long day and the old man was tired.
“How was the baptism?”, Joe asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down.
“It went very well, “ Scrub Pot replied “Ely and Lilly have a fine baby boy. How are things at the ranch? I have not been over there since last week.”
“I have been thinking about going to Saint Louis,” Joe said. “But I am not sure I want to go right