Charlie Halberd
© 01.10.08 By Elisa Williams



Charlie Halberd made the transition from slumber to wakefulness effortlessly. All his life he had risen at the strike of half past five. He had never needed an alarm clock. The glowing digits threw cold blue light across the tiny bedroom. Charlie smiled to himself as he swung his legs out of bed. Doc Turner was a good friend but he thought like the younger generation. Charlie Halberd might be nearing his seventy-eighth birthday but he didn't see that as a reason for ‘slowing down', as the Doctor put it.

Sleep in later; take the weekends off; don't work such long days. Charlie smiled again as the Doctor's words came to mind. Why should he take time off when he wanted to work? How could he sleep in later when his body continued to run on a schedule long since set? Doc turner didn't understand.

Charlie dressed without turning on the light. He'd never get used to having electricity; besides, he knew where to find things just as well in the dark. Jennie was adamant about organization. After thirty four years of marriage he had learned.

Charlie walked down the hall and through the dining room without turning on lights. He liked the quiet of early morning. It reminded him of when the children had been young and he'd go start the coffee while Jennie cared for the baby. The older kids would sleep while Jennie made breakfast and Charlie would go out to work before they were up. Today there were no children sleeping and Jennie wouldn't be there to make breakfast. She had joined the library board three years ago and was managing a fund raiser that lasted all week. The kids were grown and gone; Mary, the youngest, was in college.

Charlie turned on the kitchen lights and measured the coffee. Coffee makers. He chuckled. It seemed there was always an easier way of doing things.

Two eggs, three strips of bacon, a slice of toast and a muffin. Charlie turned off the electric burner and brought his plate to the table. He poured a cup of coffee and went into the hall to fetch the morning paper. He glanced at the wall clock on his way through the kitchen but the clock wasn't where it should have been. Had he taken it down to wind it and forgotten to replace it? He shrugged.

He stopped in at the front door, surprised. The small tile entrance with its welcome mat was out of place. Didn't this house have a front hall? Charlie frowned at the door and suddenly his brow cleared and he gave a self-conscious laugh. That had been the old farm house. He'd forgotten.

Charlie stood for a moment musing on the strange habits of memory. Maybe he was getting old, like Doc Turner kept telling him in so many kind ways. Charlie remembered his coffee was getting cold and returned to the table, the paper forgotten.

There wouldn't much to do today. The cows still had plenty of feed in the south paddock. The pear trees might need some more mulch though. Jennie's raspberry bushes needed some. He'd have to remember that. What about that gelding? Was the farrier coming today or tomorrow? Today? No, tomorrow. He'd been too busy to come today. Well, the gelding would be fine. No one was riding him and the field wasn't too muddy; he shouldn't pull a shoe.

Charlie finished a bite of toast. He liked sitting here planning his day. As long as he could remember he'd sat and planned over toast and coffee. The first years on the farm hadn't been as leisurely though. Money had been tight and the farm had come near to costing more then it was worth. Charlie remembered having to sell off bits of the land just to make ends meet. It had been like selling his own hands and feet. He'd been able to buy it all back though, later. Now the farm was bigger then it had been when his father had been alive. Charlie had bought up some of the land near by, one piece with a house on it. He and Jennie had talked about remodeling it and making it into a guest house for when the kids came to visit. Charlie smiled. He'd like that. He wanted his grand children to have a place in the old farm. Maybe he should start looking around to see how much remodeling would cost.

Charlie rose from the table just as the door bell rang. Surprised, he set his plate back down and went to answer the door.

"Charlie! Don't you go to bed before you wake up?"

Charlie grinned at his younger brother. James was the baby of the family at fifty-nine and still looking youthful and healthy. "The Doc doesn't think so."

"Doc Turner? I saw him on my way out here. ‘M.D.' I remember him as a scrawny third grader trying to play baseball with us fourteen-year-olds." James tossed his hat on a chair.

"Need a cup of coffee? Jennie's gone till tomorrow or she'd make you take breakfast too."

James looked at his older brother a moment before nodding. "Coffee's good. I've eaten though. I reminded myself I was walking into a different time zone."

Charlie chuckled as he poured his brother's coffee and refilled his own cup. They sat at the table.

"City life taken the country out of you? You remember when Pa had us feeding calves a five-thirty?"

James made a mock grimace. "Don't remind me. I'm still dealing with the nightmares. The worst of it is, I think you actually liked it."

Charlie laughed. "You were a lazy little cuss." He took a swallow of coffee. "I think I kinda did like it. You know, I don't remember ever wanting anything but this old farm. I wanted to do things and see them twenty years later. Its right there, out your front door. Things are being born and growing and changing and I have a part in that." He shook his head. "I guess I got lucky."

"We both did." James voice was strained. He laughed but it sounded forced. "I'd never have been able to stick with the old place anyway. I guess Dad figured that. It was yours anyway, you being the oldest..." James voice trailed off.

There was a silence and both men drank their coffee, eyes wandering around the room.

"How've you been?" James brought his attention back to his older brother.

Charlie looked up, bringing his mind back from daydreams. "Oh, fine, fine. Things are good."

James looked down at the table, making circles with his cup. "I saw Doc Turner on the way in. I guess I told you that..." He glanced up at his brother and then down again.

Charlie stirred irritably. "Yeah?"

"Oh, well, you know how Doctors are." James smiled stiffly; then suddenly his face was serious. "Charlie, Turner said you weren't taking his advice. You wouldn't take the medication–"

"I don't need medication! What's this all about anyway. Did Turner send you?"

"No!"

"Then why are you here? Look, I try and work with the Doc but, man, he's worse then a spinster aunt. Furthermore, he's got the dumbest ideas about how much ‘physical labor' a man my age should do. It's some damn fools idea of–"

"All he wants you to do is lay off a little, you know–"

"No, he wants me to give up the farm! I'm sick of this! I'm perfectly capable of running a little place like this and there's no way–"

James face was taunt, his lips pressed tight. "Charlie..."

"Don't you try and talk me into doing something like that. This is my place and I've worked all my life to see my grand kids be able to enjoy it and for me and my wife to–"

James had his mouth open to say something but he stopped, his gaze focusing on something over Charlie's shoulder. A look of relief spread over his face. "Doc!"

Charlie turned sharply.

"Hello, Charlie. James." Doctor Turner smiled from the doorway and nodded. "Is that coffee?"

Charlie scowled. "I suppose you'll tell me that's bad for me too."

"No, I wanted some myself." The Doctor smiled and poured himself a cup. He sat.

James cleared his throat and Doctor Turner began abruptly, "Charlie – "

"No! I'm not going to slow down or give up my farm. This is my home. You want me to give up my home?"

James suddenly leaned forward, his face red with frustration. "Look, Charlie we've been over this before. There is no – "

"No!" Charlie stood abruptly. "I'm not going to talk about this again. I suggest you both leave now. I've got work to do..."

"Charlie, come look out the window." Doctor Turner was standing at the kitchen window, the curtain drawn back. It early morning light was just grey and Charlie realized he was late in starting work for the day.

"Come look."

Charlie stood still. Suddenly he realized he didn't want to look. The Doctor watched him with a mournful gaze. Charlie Halberd stepped forward, a cold fear climbing in his stomach.

The window pane was clean and the breaking dawn gave enough light to see by. Outside Charlie's kitchen window a car drove by on the street below; and then another and another. The early morning traffic had already begin and soon the streets would be jammed with it. A strip of yellowing grass separated the building from the curb, littered with the fallen leaves from a row of skinny saplings protected by wire bases. Across the double lanes of traffic and past a wide sidewalk rose twenty five stories of glass and steel. A woman in a pants suit stepped from a taxi and hurried inside.

Where was the gravel drive lined with wild roses growing on the rustic fence? The elm tree with the tire swing was in the field, in front of the barn. Wasn't there a grove of aspen and birch growing down by the stream? The cows would be lowing for the late summer calves. The swallow had left their nests in the barn but the cat would still be waiting for them...

"Close the curtain Doc."

James stepped forward to take his brothers arm. "Charlie, there is no farm. Jennie's not gone till tomorrow. The kids... Charlie..."

Charlie turned away. The voices continued on.

"What do you think Doctor?"

"I don't know. I thought your coming would help..."

"It's the same as before?"

"It's too early to tell. I'm sorry to have you come all the way down here..."

"It's not a problem."

"I'll call you if anything new arises."

"Yes, do that. I'll be in to visit next month..."

The voices faded. Charlie sat at the table, staring into his coffee. He felt tired. Hadn't he gone to bed at 9:30 last night? Maybe he hadn't. If Jennie were home she'd have seen to it. Oh, well. She'd be home tomorrow and today he had work to do. He couldn't forget to mulch the raspberry bushes.