The Stargazer

The world is filled with infinite wonders. This story is dedicated to those who sometimes get lost in the wondrous beauty of a starry sky and a cosmic night.

After he moved out of Minneapolis, Mitch McConnell started going for long walks late at night. He had re-located to a small apartment in an old wood frame building on the outskirts of the little town of Loretto which was near Lake Independence in western Hennepin county. His late night walks were perfect for mulling things over in his head. And Mitch had a lot to mull over. Toward the end of last year his second marriage had failed, as much his fault, he figured, as that of his ex. So there was that. Then there was the fact that over the years his three kids from his first marriage had all moved to different parts of the country. He made an effort call them and talk on the phone and to see them as often as he could, but, truthfully, he got the feeling he was drifting apart from them. He felt they still held the failure of his marriage to their mother as more his fault than hers. In fact, to a certain extent, they blamed most of it on him. So his relationships with his boy, Donny, and his two girls Sara and Emma, were strained at best. That was one thing, or two or three if you tossed in the failed two marriages with the estrangement of his kids.

            Then there was the job he'd lost, the one he'd held for nearly thirty years, working as  a products engineer at a large research facility located a few miles north of downtown Minneapolis. Just after the first of the year he'd been let go in a company wide effort to become more competitive by cutting costs. So he and nearly thirty-five other long term employees had been laid off with pat on the back, a severance package and a heartfelt 'thank you'. Well, thank you, too, Mitch sarcastically thought to himself. Over half his life with the company, and bam, just like that, out on the streets. So here he was fifty five years old and without a lot of prospects. Well, none, actually.

            In March, just to get out of Minneapolis and away from old memories and to experience something new, he had moved out here to Wright County. It was verdant country with its rolling farm land fields and its wood lots full of maples and oaks. It was also peaceful and quiet. He liked the slower pace of life and it gave him the opportunity to re-evaluate things. He even was lucky enough to find a new job. Down the highway west of town a garden and landscape center had been looking for a new employee and he applied and was hired. The owner and manager, Lonny Schumacher, explained it this way, "Well you looked like you could hold your own with a front-end loader bobcat."

            To which Mitch replied, "I've never ever driven one. I barely even know what one is."

            Lonny responded by laughing, "I'll have you trained in less than a day."

            In fact, it only took about an hour before Mitch was confident enough to dump his first load of 3/4" river rock into the back of an old Ford F-150 pickup, so maybe Lonny knew something Mitch didn't.

            Which was probably true. Lonny was a good guy. He had grown up on a farm further west and north on the sandy flatlands surrounding the Mississippi River near Monticello. They grew potatoes on a hundred and eighty acres and made a pretty good living at it. Lonny's dad ran the farm and his mom taught fourth grade at Riverside Elementary in Big Lake just five miles north of Monticello. Lonny started working for his dad when he was ten years old. After he graduated from high school he took two years of business classes a local Vo-Tech. He worked and saved his money until he had enough to open the garden center. He called it Seasonal Wonders and it had been in business for seven years. Lonny was thirty five years old. He and his wife, Ann, had four kids, two boys and two girls. Ann was a special education teacher in a nearby town and they lived on forty acres down a gravel road just a mile from the garden center. They were good, down to earth people and Mitch enjoyed getting to know them, so different from the kinds of people he'd been used to all the years he'd lived in Minneapolis.

            It was Lonny who mentioned what a kick it was to go out at night to watch stars. "You should try it sometime, man. Nothing like the peace and quiet of a star filled sky. Kind of puts you in touch with yourself, if you know what I mean."

            At the time, Mitch didn't have a clue as to what Lonny was talking about, but that all changed during the summer. It was in July, after he had been working at Seasonal Wonders for about four months, when Lonny told Mitch about the Aurora Borealis. "Did you see the Northern Lights last night?" he asked first thing in the morning after Mitch had gotten to work. "Man, they were incredible."

            "Ah, no," Mitch said. "I was sleeping."

            "You snooze, you lose, pal," Lonny responded, laughing.

            Mitch was continually amazed at the amount of energy Lonny had. "Don't you ever sleep?"

            "Well, sure. But this was special. You don't see the Aurora every day." He paused, looking at Mitch. "Got the kids out there, too. Even Ann. It was fun."

            "Well, maybe I'll give it a try, sometime. They out every night?"

            "Geez, man. No." He chided him, like 'those crazy folks from the city', but then was serious, seeing that Mitch was looking interested. "You know, they might be out tonight. Look, Loretto's a tiny town. What, a couple of hundred people? You told me you go for walks anyway. Just walk out of town. Get away from the street lights. Look to the north. You might be surprised. It's pretty cool."

            Even though Lonny was young enough to have been Mitch's son, he was a really mature guy. Both mature and grounded, which Mitch attributed to growing up in such a stable family. He was from a farm, for pete's sake, thought Mitch. Can't get much more grounded than that. Which was probably true.

            Loretto's population was closer to five hundred. It was thirty miles west of downtown Minneapolis. Still in the country but starting to feel some effects of spreading urban sprawl, with its population having increased somewhat due to a building boom in the 80's and 90's.The population had leveled off now, though, and Mitch enjoyed living there. He enjoyed fixing up his apartment and found out from a guy at the post office that the building he lived in was once a hotel serving the railroad. Trains passed through town maybe ten times a day, whistles blowing, cars rattling, heading east into Minneapolis or west out to the oil fields of North Dakota. They gave the place a kind of nostalgic feel. Seasonal Wonders was ten miles west down highway 55. It took him fifteen minutes maximum to get there. After working as an engineer for nearly thirty years in Minneapolis, and dealing with the rat-race there, he was enjoying this change in his life. This opportunity to try something new. So, yeah, he thought, new job, maybe time for a new hobby.

            "You know, I think I'll give it a try," he told Lonny.

            "Good man. I think you'll like it. Now," Lonny said, striding off, "Let's get back to work."

            Around eleven o'clock that night Mitch left his apartment and went across the street and into the neighborhood of small houses nearby. He walked for about three blocks, all of them up hill. The houses thinned out and the street finally ended at a corn field at the top of the hill which was bordered by an old gravel road. Mitch walked to the edge of the field and stopped. There were no street lights around. It was pitch black out. He felt a slight claustrophobic feeling of the dark night closing in. He tilted his head back to see. Up above and all around the sky was clear. He had a three-hundred and sixty degree view. There were no clouds out or moon either, just a kind of low, hazy light, that Mitch soon realized was from the countless stars that, as his eyes accustomed themselves to the dark, started appearing. The claustrophobic feeling started to go away. The more he looked the more he could see until it was like he was in another world, a huge dome of stars above him and all around, twinkling and sparkling. He could make the one constellation he knew, the Big Dipper, tilted on its side out in the northeast. The night was quiet and still but the longer he was there the more sounds he heard: the breeze rustling through the corn stalks, some small (he hoped) animal noisily walking through the grass on the edge of the field down to his right, the low hooting of an owl in the woods to his left. It was like he was in a different world. Mitch was mesmerized, slowly turning around and around watching the stars, unaware of how much time was passing.

            When his neck started to hurt from being bent back for so long, he began looking around to find a place he could sit and rest. Maybe relax his neck and still be able to see the sky. He was starting to make a move to the right when he heard a voice.

            "Nice night for stargazing, isn't it, young fella'?"

            Mitch jumped and let out a sharp, "Geez." All he could think of was that there was some nut case right by him ready to attack him with a knife or something.

            To which the voice laughed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." And then added, chucking, "Well, maybe I did."

            The voice came from a guy about twenty feet away to his right who apparently had been sitting in a lawn chair at the edge of the corn field the entire time Mitch had been up on the hill top. He had blended in so well as to be almost invisible. "I guess you didn't noticed me. I always dress in dark clothes," he said by way of explanation as Mitch's racing heart started to return to normal. "I just like being part of the night."

            Over the course of the last few years of his life, Mitch had started taking more of a cautious approach when it came to interactions with other people. Maybe it was all the stories on the news of people being brutalized for no particular reason. Unexpected attacks by strangers on unsuspecting citizens. Whatever. He had to admit he was growing more paranoid as he got older. So he was cautious and didn't say anything as he started backing away from this guy in the lawn chair sitting out on the edge of a cornfield in the middle of the night.

            "I'm Loren, by the way," the voice said. "Loren Johnson." He made a motion with this arm. "Do you live around here, young man?"

            Mitch stopped backing up and thought about what he should do. Really, the guy sounded Ok. Polite and all. Looking more closely he appeared to be an old man. Probably harmless. His voice was soothing. Besides, there was something intriguing about this person who would take the time to sit up on the top of a hill late at night watching stars. Mitch took a chance and decided to stay. And that was how Mitch met Loren Johnson, the guy who he eventually would refer to as The Stargazer.

            "Yeah, I live down in that old gray apartment building at the bottom of the hill," Mitch said pointing  and answering Loren's question. "By the way, I'm Mitch."

            "Nice to meet you, Mitch." Loren waved a hand by way of greeting. "Yeah, that old fire-trap down there. Used to be a general store back in the day."

            "I heard it was a hotel once. You know, for the trains," Mitch said, making conversation, trying to check the guy out and gauge whether or not it was safe to be with him.

            Loren laughed. "Well, a hotel is putting a pretty spin on it." He chuckled. "Try brothel. Hotel of Ill Repute, would be more like it."

            Geez, Mitch thought to himself. I'm getting way more information than I need right now. "Well, anyway, that's where I live. Been there about four months."

            Loren nodded and then suddenly pointed to the north. "Hey, look at that," he exclaimed. "The Aurora."

            Mitch turned to his left and looked. There, seeming to float above the far northern horizon, were oscillating bands of green and yellow lights shimmering and changing shape in the sky. Like waves. The bands stretched from the horizon up and up so that they were nearly overhead. Mitch watched as the colors shifted through various combinations of greens and yellows almost like they were dancing. He had never seen anything like it before in his life.

            "Pretty amazing isn't it?" Loren asked.

            Mitch was almost speechless but forced himself to nod in agreement. "Yeah, it is," he said, voice cracking. "What causes them?"

            "Well, the technical answer is that there are explosions on the sun that emit streams of charged particles of electrons and protons that are energized when they hit the earth's atmosphere. The colors show up when electrons with hit oxygen and nitrogen and they emit their energy. Sort of like a cosmic rainbow at night. Me, I just like them because they're cool to watch."

            Mitch smiled to himself, liking that the old man used term 'cool' to describe such a spectacular event. "Yeah, I think I get what you mean," he said.

            The two men were quiet for a while, watching and only voicing the occasional 'Ooo...' or 'Ahh...' when there was a particularity dramatic bust of color. After a while the Aurora subsided and soon the colors vanished altogether. They still stood watching, though, as if transfixed by what they had seen. Loren broke the silence between them, "Well, what did you think, young man?"

            Mitch couldn't think of any words that could describe what he'd just witnessed, but he tried. "Pretty awesome," he said.

            To which Loren chuckled and said, "Yeah, I couldn't agree more."

            It turned out that Loren lived just down the hill from where they were watching. "Since the show's over, I guess I'd better head on home," he said, standing to pick up his chair. He groaned, "Man, these old bones are stiff."

            "Can I help?" Mitch asked. He was a little amazed at how easily he had slipped into his conversation with Loren, standing out here in the middle of the night, talking about stars and the Northern Lights. It felt good. He talked to Lonny at work, of course, but this was different. He was drawn to Loren somehow and found himself kind of liking the guy. Maybe he was just lonely. Then he had a thought, "Maybe your wife is worried about you."

            Loren was still a little bend over, trying to stand up straight and stretch. "Well, she would be, if she were still alive."

            Mitch was suddenly embarrassed. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry. I didn't know." Which was true, of course. They'd only just met.

            Loren brushed it off. "Don't worry young man. How were you to know?"

            "Still..."

            "Really, it's Ok." He waved a hand, like brushing it off.  "Me and my Helen, we had a good life." He paused, seeming to reflect, "But the cancer took her two years ago this November."

            "You live by yourself, then?"

            "Yeah." Loren picked up his chair. "Come on and walk with me. I'll show you where I live."

            The two men walked back into the residential neighborhood. Loren appeared to be in his mid-eighties and they took it slow and steady going down the hill, the old guy being careful where he stepped. Mitch had a chance to check his watch. It was 2:47 am. He wasn't even tired.

            Loren lived in a two story frame home that looked like an old farm house. It was painted white and seemed to be in good shape, at least from what Mitch could see. It was one of the bigger ones on the block. "Nice place," he said as he and Loren slowly made their way up the driveway on the left side of the house. "How long have you lived here?"

            "Helen and I retired here off the farm in 1999. So you do the math."

            About sixteen years. "Looks like it's been taken good care of." Mitch was feeling confident, now, talking to Loren. Houses and stuff. Guy talk.

            "Yep, been in my family for a while now. I took it over from my parents when they passed away."

            Hmmm. Interesting, Mitch thought to himself. "Did you live around here, then?"

            "Had a farm out County Road 11 west of here. Grew silage corn and some pumpkins for the locals." He chuckled again, sort of a habit of his Mitch was starting to realize.

            They got to a side door with a light on over it. Mitch was able to get a closer look at Loren who was standing slightly stooped so he appeared a few inches shorter than Mitch who was a solid six feet. Tonight Loren was wearing a worn pair of dark khakis, work boots, a blue flannel shirt, jean jacket and a green John Deer baseball hat. The night had turned cool, maybe sixty five degrees. Loren set his chair against the side of the house. "Want to come in?" he asked. "I'm going to heat up some coffee." He shivered, "These old bones..." He let the comment lay.

            Mitch glanced at his watch. It read 3:03 am. Why am I so worried about the time? He wondered. Loren saw him and chuckled again, "Got some place to go?" he asked.

            "Well, not really," Mitch admitted, chagrined.

            "Come on in, then. What have you got to lose?"

            Just for a few seconds, Mitch's paranoia kicked in but let it pass. Geez, he's just a harmless old guy. What can it hurt? "Sure," he said, "Why not?"

            Mitch followed Loren inside. A flight of stairs in front of them lead down to what he figured was the basement. To the right three steps lead up into a comfortable kitchen. Loren flipped on a light switch and indicated a round red Formica kitchen table with four padded red chairs arranged around it. "Sit." So Mitch did, looking around while Loren made coffee.

            If he had to guess he figured the house was probably a hundred years old. The kitchen had that comfortable, lived in feel that you didn't see too often anymore The floor was covered with a light almost white linoleum speckled with green and blue flakes. It was worn but remarkably clean. The cabinets were a warm honey color that looked to be natural wood. An oversized original looking farm style sink was located in the middle of a counter running along the right hand wall. Above it was a window with the bottom half covered by a lacy off white curtain dotted with tiny flowers. The overhead light cast a soft glow, the corners of the room nearly in shadow. As Loren prepared the coffee, Mitch felt himself relaxing, feeling comfortable and at ease. Almost at home.

            "Here you go," Loren said, bringing over the coffee and sliding a thick white mug across the table. He then put down a plate of store bought sugar cookies and sat down."Have a little snack," he said, pointing to the plate. "I always get a little hungry out there watching stars."

            "Thanks," Mitch said as he picked up a cookie and took a bite. "Tastes good," he added and took a sip of his coffee, thinking what else he could say or ask Loren, who seemed to appreciate having him there, enjoying the company. Maybe he's just lonely, Mitch was thinking. Then Loren started talking.

            "Yeah, it's been a while since Helen died," he said, picking up the thread of conversation he'd started back on the hill. "I'll tell you, it took a while to get over it."

            "I'll bet," Mitch said, but Loren continued talking like he hadn't even heard, lost in his own story.

            "She was the light of my life, that's for sure," he said, smiling. "I'll never forget how we first met. It was back in 1950. I was nineteen and had enlisted in the army. I was just a stupid cocky fella' wanting to see the world," he grimaced a little at the memory. "I was sent over to Korean and was doing alright, staying safe and everything until I was injured in the Battle of Chosin Reservoir. December tenth." He stopped for a moment and shook his head. Mitch assumed that the memory was painful in probably more ways than one. Loren continued, his voice soft, almost reverent. "Helen was a nurse in a MASH unit assigned to our battalion. We meet and, as she told me later, there was something special that she saw in this old hay seed farm boy from Minnesota. She was more of a townie kind of girl. From Fairmont, down in the southern part of the state. She must have seen thousands of wounded men. Why she choose me, I'll never know."

            Mitch stayed quiet, listening. He'd never known anyone to talk about war. It felt extremely personal, almost like prying, but Loren didn't appear to mind at all. In fact, he more or less blew by his war experience, giving few details and focusing more on how he met the nurse Helen who eventually became his wife. Mitch continued to listen, becoming enthralled with what was turning out to be Loren talking about the story of his life.

            "In the spring of 1951 I got discharged and went home and worked for my parents back on the farm. We had 180 acres and grew enough to live on." He smiled at the memory. "It was like you see on those public television specials. Life was pretty simple and good. We were happy."

            "I've watched some of those," Mitch said, just to say something, but Loren kept on talking with no indication he'd heard anything, lost in his story, his history and his memories.

            "The thing was, I had been out there in the world. Seen things both good and bad that I'd never thought I'd ever experience. One of the good things had to do with airplanes. I got to know some pilots while I was recovering in the hospital. They were good guys. When I got back to the states, and out on the farm, I decided I wanted to take flying lessons. There was an airfield in Buffalo about fifteen miles from us and that's where I went. Learned to fly a single engine Piper Cub." He smiled again. "Man, that was a real nice plane. Red with white trim. Would cruise at 120 miles per hour. I loved flying that machine."

            "What happened with Helen?" Mitch asked, wondering how she would get back into the story.

            "Hold your horses, young man, I'm getting there." Loren took a sip of his coffee, savoring the flavor and smiling, whether at the taste or his memories it was hard to say. Then he continued. "Helen came back to the states toward the end of 1951 and settled in Fairmont, living with her folks. It's the county seat down there and they had a nice hospital. That's where she worked. We kept in touch with letters. I've still got them." He stared off for a moment smiling before continuing. "Anyway, I got an idea that I wanted to see her so we wrote back and forth and made a plan for me to go and visit her." He laughed. "I didn't tell her I was going to fly down there, but that's what I did.

            "The guy who gave me lessons rented me the plane and in May of 1952 I took off and hedge-hoped over the trees and fields all the way down. Had a riot flying that little airplane. Landed at their municipal airport, secured the plane and got ride into downtown. We met at her favorite cafe, The Downtowner. When I told her what I'd done she wouldn't believe me. To convince her we had to go back out to the airfield." He stopped and gave Mitch a wink. "I took her for a ride in that Piper and it was somewhere up in the bright blue sky, soaring above the cornfields of Martin County, that I think we both fell in love." He looked at Mitch and smiled, "We were married on the 23rd of September of that year."

            Loren sat back and was quiet for a few minutes. Mitch got up for some more coffee. "Warm you up?" he asked, but Loren was silent, starring into his mug. Mitch took the pot over and poured some in for the old man. "Here you go." He patted Loren on the shoulder. He was suddenly feeling a great deal of affection for the old guy.

            Startled, Loren said, "Why thank you, young fella'. I don't normally talk so much about all of this."

            "That's Ok. It's interesting. I like hearing about it," Mitch said truthfully and then paused, checking out the old man. He seemed fine, and not the least bit embarrassed, which Mitch thought he might be feeling. This was stuff guys didn't normally, if ever, talk about. At least in his experience. "I'm enjoying it but we can stop anytime you'd like."

            Loren didn't appear to hear Mitch as he went on. "After we got married we lived on the farm with my parents. I'm the oldest in the family so dad sort of put me in charge. Helen worked at the hospital in Buffalo. We built a good life. Made money. I bought some land southwest of here and planted soybeans. I ran our farm and helped out with dad's. The kids started coming, four of them, and we just settled into our life." Again he paused, remembering and smiling. "It was good. Jack was born in '53 and then Jeannie in '55. Then the twins Debbie and Susie in '57. The kids were happy and healthy. Helen cut back on her hours at the hospital to be at home. Our farm and my dad's were doing fine. We were even able to save money." He paused again, gazing inward. Then he looked up, a sad expression in his eyes. "Then came the '60's. You know all the change and what not." Mitch nodded. He was born in 1960 so he sort of had a flavor for the decade. "Anyway it was that damn war..." Mitch tensed. There was something in Loren's voice. Anger. He took a moment to collect himself and then sighed, "We lost Jack in '72. June 15th. in Vietnam. The worst day of my life." Again, more quiet. Mitch didn't know what to say. In another room he could hear a clock chiming the hour. Four of them. 4:00 am. He should have been sleepy but he wasn't. There was something about being here with this old man who obviously was lonely and feeling compelled to share his life's story. Mitch felt he owed it to the guy. Why? He didn't know, but it felt right to be with him. Loren continued with on with what seemed to Mitch a wistful expression.

            "Helen and I did our best and concentrated on raising our remaining children. Jeannie became a nurse, just like her mom. The twins got caught up in the end of that counterculture stuff," he waved a hand, like swatting away a fly. "They even lived on a commune for a while." He smiled. "Actually, it was pretty harmless. They turned out just fine. Now, Sara teaches pre-school. She has two kids, Sidney and Kala. Debbie is a seamstress, and has her two girls, Jenny and Stephanie. Sara and Debbie have always been close and still are. They live about an hour from each other in the Portland, Oregon area." He smiled, "I see them occasionally, but not as much as I'd like."

            "What about Jeannie?"

            "She's been married and divorced twice." Loren frowned. "I guess marriage is not for her. But she's got Jeremy from her first marriage. He's an engineer in Silicon Valley. Does Ok for himself."

            "Where's Jeannie live?"

            "She's out by Buffalo. Near the hospital."

            Mitch nodded, taking in the information. To him Loren seemed to be a very capable eighty-four year old man. What I wouldn't give to be like him in thirty years, he thought to himself.

            Loren stood up and poured himself a small portion of coffee. "More?" He asked Mitch, who shook his head. "Nope. Anymore and you'll get to watch me float away." Loren grinned and sat down again.

            "The girls moved out and got on with their lives and it was just Helen and me. My mom and dad had to retire off the farm in the eighties. We sold the land and used the money to buy this house. They lived in this place almost twenty years. They died within five years of each other. I stayed on the farm until ten years ago. Had to sell it finally, when I couldn't do my chores. I've been here since then." He looked around. "Not a bad place, is it?"

            "I like it," Mitch said, "At least what I've seen so far."

            "Come on," Loren said, standing up. "I'll give you a tour."

            Mitch was quickly thinking whether or not he was up for that kind of a thing when he heard a thud that sounded like it came from upstairs. He jumped to his feet. "What was that?" He pointed toward the ceiling. "I thought I heard something."

            All Loren could respond with was a quiet, "Oh Oh," like he'd just done something he wasn't supposed to do.

            What sounded like footsteps raced across the floor above kitchen. Then Mitch heard a door open and slam against a wall and then the footsteps hurried down some stairs. He looked toward the living room which was through a doorway out of the kitchen to the left. He glanced at Loren who was now standing up looking perplexed. Mitch was in the process of asking, "What...?" When a figure burst through the doorway and into the kitchen. It was a women a little older than Mitch. She was wearing a nightgown and had shoulder length gray streaked hair framing an angry looking face. The expression spitting tacks came to Mitch as she shouted, "Dad what the hell are you up too?" She looked at Loren and then at Mitch, who she seemed to notice for the first time. She was holding a baseball bat. Mitch backed away with his hands up.

            Loren seemed chagrined. "Oh, hi Jeannie. Sorry." He stopped and tried to collect himself. "This is Mitch," he said, indicated with a motion of his hand. "I met him tonight watching stars. He's a friend of mine."

            Mitch quickly took in the situation. Being the old guy that he was, Loren had obviously just wandered out of the house and his daughter didn't expect him to do that. Which worried her and made her mad. But her dad was Ok and not harmed. She should be able to see that. On the whole, not that big a deal, in his book. But the question in his mind was that Loren had said earlier that Jeannie lived in Buffalo. What was she doing here in Loretto? For now, Mitch wanted to be friendly and let her know he posed no eminent threat. "Hi," he said, trying to be polite, placating with his hands. "My name's Mitch. Nice to meet you."

            Jeannie just stared at him, not impressed. "Maybe it's time for you to head home, buddy," she said, eyes burning into him, slapping the bat in her hand. "Like right now."

            Well, then again, maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was a big deal. Which it turned out it was. Most people right away would have left and let the emotions between Jeannie and her dad cool off somewhat. But Mitch felt he should stay, thinking that in some way he may have been responsible for Loren's current situation. Which he wasn't, which soon became clear. Jeannie proceeded to read her dad the riot act, telling him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't supposed to go outside by himself ever again. "You got that?" She asked, jabbing a finger that stopped just inches from his chest. Loren responded by nodding meekly in the affirmative and apologizing. Jeannie just stared at her dad giving away nothing, before finally relenting and saying, "Ok." Then her eyes softened. "Well, I'm sorry, too. I really worry about you, you know." Loren just gazed at the floor and shuffled his feet.        

            Jeannie watched him for a moment and then turned her attention to Mitch, wondering out loud what the hell he thought he was doing sitting with an old man in his kitchen in the middle of the night. To which Mitch held up his hands in surrender saying that he didn't mean anything by it, he was just enjoying the guy's company. They went back and forth as the tension in the room slowly dissipated. After a few minutes Jeannie had calmed down and regained her composure.

            "Sorry," she said, "I just get worried about him, is all." She set the bat down and went to Loren and put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you Ok, dad? Maybe you should get upstairs and get some sleep."

            Loren suddenly looked very tired. Drained."Yeah, maybe I will," he sighed. He went to the sink and washed out his mug, putting it in the drain rack. Turning to Mitch he perked up a little. "Goodnight, young fella'," he said. "I enjoyed our evening." He gave a contrite look to his daughter who went to him and gave him a hug.

            "You go on, now, dad. I'll be up in a few minutes." She looked at Mitch. "I want to talk to your new friend here." Mitch could hear the 'finger quotes' around friend in her voice. After Loren left the room and his footsteps trailed away up the stairs, she turned to Mitch. "Ok, what's your story? Friend or foe?" She gave Mitch a not unfriendly look. Maybe she wasn't so angry with him after all.

            Mitch indicated the coffee pot. "Can a pour you a cup?" He asked, still trying to calm the family waters.

            "I'll get it." Jeannie said, moving to the counter. "Fill me in on what's going on here."

            Mitch assumed, correctly he later found out, that in those first few minutes together Jeannie had quickly sized him up as not a threat. But she was definitely protective of her dad and now wanted some answers. They sat at the table talking. Mitch filled her in on how he had hiked up the hill earlier that evening and how he had eventually met her dad. And how they had started talking about stars and the Aurora Borealis and the night sky, to which Jeannie had offered the first glimpse of a smile.

            "Yeah, dad does like his star gazing, that's for sure."

            "I know. It was great to talk with him," Mitch said, happy to have a positive response. Jeannie still seemed cautious of him, but a little less wary. He paused before adding, "He seems like a nice, harmless old man." Taking a sip of his now cold coffee he added, "I didn't realize he had some issues." Referring to but not specifically saying anything about what he assumed was Loren's dementia.

            "That's Ok," Jeannie said, and in her look Mitch could tell she was concurring. She took a cookie from the plate and began munching slowly. "I just worry about him." She sighed, suddenly looking very tired. Then she changed the subject. "What's up with you, anyway? Do you do this often, this walking around at night befriending old men?"

            Mitch smiled for the first time since Jeannie had burst into the kitchen. "No, really I don't." He waved a hand. "It was just one of those things." And he filled her in on what it was like for him to be with her dad. "I just found him interesting. Plus, to be honest, I really don't have a lot going on in my life right now." He stopped and grinned a little, making a joke. Jeannie smiled back and replied, "Yeah, I can see that."

            As they talked, Mitch started feeling more comfortable with Jeannie, sort of like he had felt with her dad. She came on strong and assertive initially, which he understood. If the tables were turned, who knew how he would have responded to coming upon a stranger in his kitchen? But he could tell she cared deeply about her dad and that made him feel a sense of compassion toward her. His own parents had died years ago. He'd never had to deal with them in old age. On the whole, as they talked, Jeannie came across as a nice person in a difficult situation, trying to make the best of things.

            In the living room the clock chimed again. Mitch counted five. It was 5 am. Looking out the window over the sink, Mitch could see a faint glow in the sky. Dawn was approaching. A new day was beginning.

            He stood up, stretching. "Well, I should probably get going." He pointed. "Sun's coming up."

            Jeannie stood and stretched, also. "Yeah. I've got to get ready for work."

            "The hospital?"

            "Yeah." She gave him a look. "Dad must have told you."

            "Yep. Lots of stuff about your family."

            She was suddenly on edge again. "I was going to ask, Like what, but I can only imagine."

            Mitch must have looked perplexed. Jeannie continued, "Dad sometime gets his facts confused. You know. He tries, but he's really not a hundred percent there all of the time."

            Mitch kind of understood, and told Jeannie so. "Some of it was true, though, right?"

            She glanced out the window again. "Look, it's getting late, or early, however you want to look at it."

             Mitch took the hint. "I get it. I've got to get ready for work, too." He had told her earlier about working at the garden and landscape center. He didn't know why, though, but he found that he liked this family that he had inadvertently blundered into. He liked Loren and he liked Jeannie. He liked hearing Loren's stories and even if they weren't all true, there must have been an element of truth to some of them. Jeannie must have sensed his reluctance to leave just then.

            "Look," she said, "You seem like a nice enough guy. Why don't you come back up here after you get home from work. I'll be home by 6:00 pm. Come up around 7:00. How's that sound? If you're all that curious, we'll chat a bit and see if we can get our facts straight."

            It sounded good to Mitch. "I'll be there," he said. And with a wave of his hand he left, walking the two blocks down the hill to his apartment watching the sunrise and thinking through the last hours of his life. He felt different, somehow, from how he'd felt just twelve hours earlier. He felt more alive and energized than he'd felt in quite a while. He was looking forward to seeing Jeannie and her dad again. Evening couldn't come soon enough.

            But first he had to get through his normal ten hour day at the garden center. He arrived at his usually starting time of 8:00 am. They were busy right away and he spent the entire morning loading rock into trucks with the bobcat. Finally there was a lull around noon and he took a break. He was sitting in the shade drinking some water when Lonny came by.

            "What's up, man?" he asked, ready to stride on.

            Mitch stopped him. "It's all good." He held up a hand. "Hey, got a quick question for you."

            Lonny stopped. "What's going on?"

            "What do you know about Loren Johnson, an old farmer from out where I live in Loretto?"

            Lonny smiled. "So you met old Loren, eh? Quite the character, that one."

            "Yeah. Last night. I was out stargazing." Mitch filled Lonny in on how he'd met Loren, and the night spent watching the Northern Lights, and the time back at the house in the kitchen and then the bit with the explosion with Jeannie. "But everything's Ok, now," He said, "I'm going back there tonight."

            "Well, good for you, old man," Lonny laughed, making a joke. Then added, more seriously, "They're good people, those two. Been through a lot."

            "Sounds like it," Mitch said remembered last night and looking out over the flat lands around the garden center. Heat waves were shimmering in the distance. The day was starting to heat up and get hot.

            "Well, you probably just got the story from Loren, is what I'm betting," Lonny said, looking right at Mitch.

            "Yeah, I did," Mitch said, stretching out the words, "So..."

            "Well, Loren's a great guy, but his version of things is, shall we say, a little white washed. A  little sugar coated." Mitch must have looked confused. "Here now," Lonny started to move away, "We've got to get back to work. Let's get together for a beer sometime. I'll fill you in."

            "I'm going back there tonight."

            Lonny stopped and was thoughtful. "Well, as far as Loren's concerned, I'd be careful talking about Helen if I were you. The old guy's version of things is really not all that accurate." Lonny again started walking away.

            "What'd you mean?" Mitch asked, perplexed.

            "It wasn't the rosy little marriage and family portrait that I'm assuming Loren painted for you."

            "What? Loren said they were really happy."

            Lonny smirked. "Nope. Helen left him in the 70's and took the girls. Seems our friend Loren liked the ladies a little too much. Had affairs and the like."

            Mitch was stunned. "I don't believe it."

            "Well, believe it my friend. A bit of a drinking problem, too. I'm amazed that his daughter Jeannie has anything to do with him .

            "Geez," Mitch said, shocked. "I would never have guessed."

            "Yeah, well that's life, man." Lonny said. "If you go back, I'd be careful about what you believe about what Loren says."

            Lonny continued walking away. Mitch had a thought. "What about Jeannie?" Thinking about how much he enjoyed talking with her.

            "Oh, Jeannie's great," Lonny said, and then smiled. "But be careful. She's not had the best of luck with men."

            "I heard she's been married a few times."

            "Two or three. I think," Lonny said. "Guys have left her, so she doesn't have a great attitude with it comes to guys. At least that's what my wife says." He looked at his watch. "Come on, let's hit it."

            They went back to work but the rest of the day Mitch kept thinking about Loren and his daughter Jeannie. No matter what Lonny had said, and the unflattering stories circulating about Loren, he still felt an affection growing inside of him for the old guy and his daughter. He was looking forward to seeing them later that night.

            He left work at 6:00 pm and drove home, eagerly anticipating seeing Loren and Jeannie. He showered, put on a clean pair of jeans and a light green tee-shirt and hiked up the hill. He was at the old frame house right on the dot, 7:00 pm. He saw Loren in a rocking chair, sitting in the shade under the overhang on the front porch, sipping from a glass of what looked like iced tea. He waved a greeting.

            "High there, young fella'. Do I know you?"

            Mitch laughed a little, wondering if the old guy was kidding or not. "Yeah. I'm Mitch. We met last night. Remember?"

            Loren smiled a sheepish smile. "Well, I might, young man. Why don't you come up here and tell me all about it?"

            So Mitch climbed the steps to the porch and sat down on a spare rocker. "Whew," he said, "Hot out today."

            "Yeah, it is, but just wait until tonight. Something about a cool summer's night that makes the long, hot day more than worthwhile."

            Mitch thought back to the night before and the cool stillness under the starlit sky up on the hill.  "Yeah, I get what you're saying."

            The two of them rocked in their chairs for a while, chatting. By his comments, Mitch realized that Loren actually did remember him from the previous night and he felt good about that. Jeannie came out a little later with a tray of iced tea and some oatmeal cookies. "Here you go, men." She set the tray down, gave Mitch a glass and poured some more for her dad. She pulled up her own rocker and sat down, taking a glass of ice tea and taking a sip. She was wearing a floral print sleeveless sundress. To Mitch she looked really nice. "Hot out," she added.

            "Yeah," Mitch agreed. She seemed calm and happy to relax on the porch. "Should cool off by tonight."

            Jeannie nodded and then leaned over and addressed her dad. "Northern Lights tonight, dad?"

            Loren thought for a moment and then said, "Yes, I believe there will be."

            Jeannie smiled and said back to him, giving what Mitch could have sworn was a wink, "That'll be good. Maybe we can go up and watch them together."

            It was so relaxing sitting on the porch they almost didn't get up the hill that evening. Mitch couldn't believe how comfortable he felt with Jeannie and Loren. After the tense situation of the night before, things had calmed down considerably. All three of them sat watching the day fade to evening, chatting quietly, rocking in their white wooden rocking chairs, sipping ice tea. Mitch felt like he had fallen into a Norman Rockwell painting. Jeannie filled him in on the living situation for Loren.

            "I have a service called Home Instead come in for a few hours every day and watch over dad while I'm gone. Give him lunch and stuff like that. They're really reliable and dad seems to like them. Right dad?" She asked, and Loren nodded, smiling.

            Mitch thought about what Lonny had said earlier that day about Loren 'liking the ladies' but decided to not bring it up. Jeannie seemed to be enjoying herself talking to Mitch and, for his part, talking with her and being with Loren, sitting on the porch on a quiet summer's evening, was the closest thing to a normal, family kind of life he'd had in many years. He didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that.

            He found he could talk to Jeannie about Loren in front of him without any problems. "Your dad seems Ok to me."
            "Well, he has his good days and bad days," she said, looking at her father with a mixture of affection and concern. "Right now he's doing pretty well. Sometimes, though, he'll wander off and, of course, that's concerning for me." She sighed. "The police have had to look for him a few times, you know and bring him back." She glanced at Loren, who was watching some kids out on the street throwing a Frisbee around. "The cops around here know all about my dad." Mitch was starting to appreciate how challenging  it was to watch over her dad. But Jeannie seemed to accept the way things were and was making the best of the situation. He admired her for that.

            "You all have lived in the area your whole life, right?" Mitch asked, remembering what Lonny had said about Helen taking the girls and leaving back when they were young. He was curious as to how much Jeannie would tell him. It wasn't that he was nosy, it was just that he was liking being with her and her dad. It was more than making conversation. More like wanting to know what really was the truth. Getting closer to them.

            Jeannie was honest. "I know that last night dad probably told you some glamorous story about his life with my mom," she paused and looked at Mitch, who nodded and made a motion like, go on. "Well, the truth is," she stopped and looked at her dad, who was sipping his iced tea and rubbing at a spot on the knee of his trousers. She gave a thin smile and went on. "Mom and dad had a falling out when us girls were in our teens. It was after we had lost Jack." She looked at Mitch. "Dad told you about him, right?"

            "The war, right?"

            "Yeah." She paused a moment before going on, eyes cast down, remembering. "Anyway, Dad," she started and stopped, thinking some more and then started again, "Dad wasn't the most reliable person during those years." Mitch nodded again, encouraging. "Mom and he started arguing more and more. He started going out and drinking. They fought a lot. Not physically, mind you, but verbally. Lots of yelling." She sighed. "It wasn't pretty. She finally moved us to Buffalo. She was close to work. Me and my sisters finished high school there, and mom moved on with her life. She even got married. I went to college up in St. Cloud, got my degree and came back. I've been a nurse ever since." She took a long drink of her tea and put the cool glass against her forehead. Mitch felt he should do something to comfort her but she went on before he could. "Mom died a few years ago from cancer." Mitch nodded, thinking that a small part of Loren's story last night was accurate. "I've been taking care of him here at the house for almost ten years."

            Mitch thought about his relationship with his kids, which was distant, at best. "Did you stay in touch with your dad during those years after you all and  your mom left?"

            "Honestly, I was mad at him when we had to move. I loved being on the farm. But that's life." She looked out over the front yard and past the houses across the street to where the corn fields started, rolling off into the distance. Lots of wide open space out there. Beyond the fields was a tree line of oaks and maples that signified the edge of a huge county park. "I really couldn't leave the area, though." She stopped again for a few moments. Mitch could almost feel her breathing in the fresh scent and aroma of the neighboring farmland, like it was rejuvenating her. "You know how they say that time heals all wounds? Well, it did for me. Dad cleaned up his act. Focused on taking care of the farm and my grandparents farm. Quit drinking and carousing. Started his hobbies."

            "Like stargazing?" Mitch asked.

            Jeannie nodded. "Yeah, that. He also started collecting old tractors and restoring them. He's into old clocks, too." She indicated back inside the house.

            "I heard one chiming last night."

            Jeannie smiled. "One of these days I'll get dad to plug them all in and get them set and running. It's quite impressive when you've got about a dozen of them going."

            Mitch laughed. "I can imagine." He couldn't remember having such a nice, normal evening. It was one of those times that could you wished could go on forever. To the west the sun was sinking just below the horizon, reflecting  crimson scarlet off a few thin clouds.  A robin was singing a last trilling song before nightfall. Jeannie had a nectar feeder hanging off a corner of the porch and a hummingbird kept coming to it, darting back and forth, tiny wings a blur. She had potted plants scattered around filled with geraniums and impatiens in a variety of colors. A wind chime tinkled in the soft summer breeze. Mitch was so relaxed he almost fell asleep.

            Jeannie went inside to refresh their tea. Loren rocked back and forth seemingly enjoying the peaceful ending to the day. Mitch couldn't blame him. "Looking forward to looking at some stars tonight?" Mitch asked.

            Loren turned toward him slowly with a big grin on his face."You bet I am, young fella'. You bet I am."

            And later that night they did just that, all of them, Jeannie included, which was a perfect ending to a day Mitch never wanted to end. Much later, as he walked down the hill to his apartment through a peaceful summer night beneath a star studded sky, he could honestly say that he couldn't remember ever feeling so happy.

Summer ebbed into fall with the trees changing to colors of golden yellows, fiery oranges and burgundy reds. The temperature dropped and the winds picked up scattering leaves dancing and swirling across the ground. The farm fields were harvested and lay bare until spring. November arrived and with it came the threat of the first snow of the season. Mitch and Lonny worked long hours at the garden center putting the perennials into storage until the next year. They also got ready for the shipment of evergreens they would be setting up and selling for the holiday season. But this year the snow held off. The temperatures hovered around 35 degrees during the day and 20 degrees at night. Some of the smaller ponds froze over and then the larger lakes. Everyone was waiting for winter, in the form of snow, to finally arrive, but it continued to hold off.

            Mitch had become an ad-hoc member of the Johnson family. He helped out with yard work and whatever chores around the house that needed doing. He loved it. He felt needed and necessary, a long way from how he'd felt over eight months earlier when he'd first moved into town feeling damaged and adrift. Now he felt accepted by Jeannie and Loren and he did all he could to show his appreciation. He changed out the screens and put storms on the windows, caulked around the edges of window and door frames, brought in firewood, raked the leaves and winterized the lawnmower. He began to look at the house as his own, which didn't go unnoticed by Jeannie.

            "You're quite the handyman, there, Mitch," she said one time, chiding him, "To bad we can't afford to pay you."

            "Hanging out with you and your dad is payment enough," Mitch said, hoping he didn't sound too corny. Too needy.

            Jeannie laughed. "Man, that sounds pretty lame, but we appreciate it, anyway."

            Mitch just smiled and went back to work raking the yard. Yeah, it did, didn't it? But what he'd said was the truth. He really was developing an affection for his two new friends.

            There were times, being with Jeannie and Loren, that he thought about maybe asking her out. Start dating her. Take their relationship to the next level whatever that might be. But every time he got close to bringing up the subject she would say something to the effect that she sure liked how things were not having to be tied to any guy, or it sure was nice having the kind of freedom that she had, so Mitch would just put the thought out of his mind. In the end, it was just good to be with her and her dad. They got along fine and everyone was happy.

            On Thanksgiving he called his kids and wished them and their families a happy day. The conversations all went fine. He had grown to accept how things were between he and his son and daughters and so he didn't push it too much. He was happy that at least they were all talking and there didn't seem to be any more hidden animosity. Maybe Jeannie was right when she had said that time healed all wounds.

            He had dinner that day with Jeannie and her dad. He made a wild-rice casserole and hiked up the hill with it. The day was cold, around ten degrees and a light snow was falling. Winter had finally arrived. The kitchen was warm and smelled of oven roasted turkey and savory sage dressing. While they ate Mitch was moved to say how thankful he was that he was friends with Jeannie and Loren to which they responded with a hearty cheer and a clinking of their glasses of sparkling cider. Later, they sat in the living room in front of warm, flickering fireplace fire sipping hot chocolate and quietly talking. By the time Mitch walked back to his apartment he was chalking the day up to another in a string of memorable times spent with Jeannie and Loren.

            And then it was December. They hit a stretch of clear, cold weather, just perfect for stargazing. For nearly a week straight Mitch went and got Loren and they headed on up to the top of the hill. Jeannie always declined to accompany them.

            "Too dang cold, for me, gentlemen," she say. "I'll leave the craziness to you two."

            Mitch and Loren didn't care about the cold. They dressed for it in layers of long underwear, jeans, Carharrt overalls topped off with a thermal lined jacket, a warm woolen hat and a thick scarf. They even brought a couple of thermoses of coffee. They'd plop down in their lawn chairs, pull a blanket over their legs and they were fine. Besides, a little chilliness was nothing compared to the wonders of those cold December nights.

            One night toward the middle of the month they were out on an exceptionally cold and bright night. "Look at Cassiopeia." Loren pointed to the constellation out in the east. It looked like a lazy 'W'.

            "Really nice," Mitch said, settling in and appreciating the crisp feeling in the air even though the temperature was hovering around zero. He liked this unique kind of winter stillness that allowed you to really hear the sounds of the night. All it took was a little bit of time for your ears to adjust to the profound quiet. Within fifteen minutes he had heard the hooting call of a Barred Owl from somewhere off behind them in the woods at the edge of the corn field. He'd head a coyote howling way out to the west. He'd heard the scream of a rabbit and the thumping of hooves, probably a deer, crunching through the icy crust on the top of the three inches of snow on the ground. And, speaking of ice, he'd heard the cracking and booming of the ice surface out on Lake Independence, over a mile away. All these sounds were like a winter melody to him. A lullaby of sorts. He found a sense of peace and serenity sitting out in the cold with Loren, sipping their coffee, quietly chatting, listening to the night and watching the sky above them speckled with countless stars.

            They quickly added the more constellations to the mental list they kept. The Big and Little Dippers, Orion, Auriga, Pisces and Pegasus where the most common. They hadn't yet, but sometimes they'd even see a meteor shower or the occasional shoot star.

            "Lovely out here, isn't it?" Mitch remarked.

            "It sure is. Reminds me when I used to take the classes out."

            Which was one of the stories Loren told that was probably true. Mitch had found that Loren sometimes confused reality with his thoughts and imagination. It took a while to get used to it, but he was getting so he could distinguish between what Jeannie referred to as fact and fiction.

            "Yeah, dad spends a lot of time in his own world," she told him once during the past summer. "It's harmless, I guess.  Just take everything he says with a grain of salt and you'll be Ok." She sighed and then smiled. "But when he talks about stars and stuff, you can bet that what he says is true. When it comes to the night sky, the guys knows what he's talking about."

            Which was why some years ago when he was in his sixties Loren became a sought after volunteer for the local schools. He started donating his time to help out in science classes, usually in the junior or senior high but sometimes even grade school. "Dad's very democratic when it comes to looking at stars," Jeannie said fondly. "Everyone is welcome to share in his cosmic world." So he'd take students who were interested out for a evening of stargazing. His outings became very popular, at least that's what she told him. "Yeah, people loved it. And he was good at it, you know, passionate and all of that. He was a good teacher." She stopped and thought for a moment. "He even started doing adult education classes through the local junior college over in Buffalo. He had to stop maybe eight years ago when his memory started to go. He couldn't drive reliably so that was that. But he's very knowledgeable, that's for sure."

            On this particular December night, they were lucky. They did see at shooting star, which, as Loren said, wasn't really a star at all, but just a bit of cosmic dust burning up when it made contact with the earth's atmosphere. But Mitch didn't really care about the technical side of it all. He just like looking at the sky. He could put his head back against the lawn chair and just gaze. Which is what he did. Just sat there looking up into the heavens. A memory came to him of when he was twenty years old and he and some friends had gone camping in the mountains of Colorado. They had spent the entire night looking at the sky and the brilliant dome of stars above them. They'd spotted a satellite on that particular night and watched it move across the sky, no bigger than a pin-prick. It had been so unexpectedly amazing that he'd never forgotten it. Then came a memory of when he was a young seven year old watching stars with his dad and a friend of his dad's who had a telescope. How his dad had put his arm around his shoulder as Mitch looked through the telescope and told him how great it was to be out there with him watching the stars. So many good memories, Mitch thought to himself, as he sat out on this cold December night on the edge of a corn field on the edge of town with his new found friend, Loren. He smiled and felt warm and secure with the faint hooting of the owl in the distance and the soft glow of the star lit sky above him. The stillness of the night was like a blanket, warming him in a kind of cosmic way. His mind drifted and his eye lids fluttered. He was at peace with the world.

            He awoke with a start and shook his head, instantly aware that something was not right. "Hey, Loren," he said, turning his head to the right where Loren and his chair were. "I must have..."

             But he never finished his sentence. Loren's chair was empty, his blanket laying in the snow. Mitch jumped up and checked his watch. It was nearly midnight. He did a quick calculation. He must have dozed off for fifteen minutes. Loren could be anywhere. And then the thought hit him. The train. At 12:10 am the nightly train came through town. The tracks where about a quarter of a mile from where he stood. He had to get down to them to check for Loren. First he took out his phone and called Jeannie.

            She picked up right away, sounding sleepy. "Where are you guys? Aren't you frozen yet?" She was joking with him. Loren obviously wasn't home.

            "Bad news, Jeannie." He heard her gasp, readying herself. "Your dad's gone. I must have fallen asleep. For maybe fifteen minutes. I'm going to go look for him."

            "Hold on, I'm coming up there."

            "First call 911. Let someone know."

            "I'll do that." She dropped the phone, probably nervous. Mitch heard her say 'shit' as she picked it up.

            He spoke quickly, "Look, you call it in. Then hurry and get dressed and meet me down by the tracks." He heard Jeannie gasp. "I just want to make sure he's not down there. Ok?"

            "Geez, yeah," she said, a tremor in her voice.

            With the phone pressed to his ear Mitch started off across the corn field, the shortest way to the tracks. "Hurry up," he said, his voice urgent. "I'll see you in a few minutes." Jeannie click off and Mitch was on his own.

            You might think being outside at night would be total darkness, but it's not. Especially in the winter. Any snow on the ground is illuminated by the starry sky and that's what helped Mitch cross the field. The top layer of snow was icy and his boots crunched through it and underneath was only a few inches deep so the snow wasn't an issue. The furrows of corn were the problem. The dirt ridges between the rows were frozen and unforgiving. The faster Mitch tried to go, the more he stumbled. He fell more than once, cursing more his own incompetence that anything else. Why did I fall asleep? Why didn't I pay more attention to taking care of Loren? He felt an incredible responsibility for the old man. And for Jeannie, too. She'd trusted him with her dad. God, she'll never forgive me, he thought, hurrying faster, stumbling more.

            It took about five minutes to cross the field but seemed like it took an hour. Mitch checked his watch. Just after midnight. His heart was racing. He was hot. He could feel sweat running down his back. Panting and out of breath he pushed on. Ahead of him was a wood lot that dropped down in a steep decline to the railroad tracks. He saw no indication that Loren had come this way but he couldn't be too sure. Man, what an idiot I am, he chastised himself once more as he plowed into the woods, breaking through brush, branches whipping his face as he stumbled downhill.

            It took a few minutes for him to get to the bottom. He broke out into the cleared area on the edge of the train tracks. He heard a whistle blow and looking to his right saw a bright head light. The train was a mile away. It'd be here in just over a minute.

            He quickly looked in both directions. His biggest fear was that Loren would wander out onto the track. But Mitch saw no sign of his friend. He called out his name, but the train's whistle obliterated his voice as the engine roared toward him, louder and louder. Mitch frantically scanned the edge of the track, eyes searching everywhere. Loren could stumble out of the woods and onto the track at any time. Where the hell was he? And the train kept coming, wheels screeching like a banshee, the clattering of a hundred cars echoing through the trees. Still no Loren. Then the engine flew right by him, blowing snow that swirled all around. It's whistle screamed in his ear, deafening. Mitch stood off to the side, just a few feet from the edge of the rattling cars, frantically looking up and down the track. Nothing. Finally he could see the end of the train coming toward him. Still no Loren. Then the final car clattered past the spot he was standing leaving behind a return to quiet as the train rumbled down the track to his left, heading east. Mitch hung his head, barely hearing the retreating whistle blowing. Then there was a fade to silence as peace and quiet returned. Still Mitch hung his head, feeling like he had betrayed Loren somehow. Disappointed Jeannie, too. Man, what a jerk, I am he thought to himself, as he turned to start walking toward town, less than a quarter of a mile away.

            "Hey, why so glum, chum?" Came a voice from across the tracks. "You'll never see any stars staring at the ground."

            Mitch jerked up his head. He couldn't believe his ears. "Loren," he yelled and ran across the tracks. "Where have you been?"

            Loren looked bemused. "Right here. I just wanted to see the train up close and personal."

            He must have crossed the tracks earlier and come out of the woods when the train started going past. Whatever had happened, at least he was safe. Mitch grabbed his friend and gave him a huge bear hug. "We were all really worried, man." He gave Loren a quick once over. He seemed fine.

            Loren shrugged, "I'm just a little chilly is all."

            Mitch laughed. "Let's get you home, then."

            First he called Jeannie and gave her the good news. She was up on the hill just starting across the corn field. "I called the police. They're going to send out a squad car."

            "That's good, but I don't think we'll need it. He seems Ok, Jeannie. It's a good ending I think," Mitch said. Then added, "I'm so sorry. I..."           

            Jeannie stopped him. "Hey, Mitch, it's Ok." Then she paused. He could hear her heavy breathing and the faint crunch of snow as she walked. "The stories I could tell..."

            Mitch knew that she'd had similar experiences with her dad with him wandering away. After all, that's how she and him had met. "We can talk more later. Right now I'm walking down the track to the crossing in town. We should be there in about ten minutes or so."

            "Sounds good.  I'm heading back home." He could hear her start to run. "I'll bring the car."

            "Ok, good. See ya'." And he could have sworn that just as he was hanging up he heard Jeannie say, "And Mitch, thanks."

            By the time he got to the crossing Jeannie was just arriving. A few minutes later while she was giving her dad a quick check up, a police cruiser showed up. Mitch talked to the guy, assuring him that all was well and that with Jeannie being a nurse things were under control. The  patrolman pulled out his flashlight and checked out Loren, and then checked out Mitch and Jeannie before giving them all the 'A-Ok'. He then left them with the suggestion to take Loren home, which they did.

            Much later, in the kitchen, Mitch and Jeannie were having some hot chocolate, unwinding and trying to come to grips with what had happened. Earlier, Loren had taken a hot shower and Jeannie had put him to bed. The house was quietly settling down.

            "How about if you build us a fire in the fireplace?" Jeannie suggested.

            "You bet." A fire sounded like a good idea. Mitch still had a bit of a chill.

            "I'll bring our mugs." 

            Mitch got the fire going and Jeannie came in with fresh hot chocolate. They sat together in a warm familiarity, watching the flames and sipping their beverages. Mitch couldn't remember feeling so good. So comfortable. So relaxed. Maybe those weren't the best words. How about at home? That's what best described his feeling. Being at home. He looked over at Jeannie. She was smiling to herself, staring into the fire, seemingly lost in her own inner thoughts. All of a sudden she looked up and smiled at him. Mitch felt something there between them. A closeness and a warmth. If he felt it he wondered if she did too.

            "You were good with dad tonight," she said. "Real good." She sighed. "He can be a real handful."
            "I like your dad," Mitch said, and wanted to add, and you too, but censored himself due to the corniness factor. Instead he added, "He's a good guy."

            She chuckled. "Well, he has his moments."

            Mitch settled back against the cushions. He and Jeannie were only inches apart. Just like they had been so many time before, sitting here, or in the kitchen or out on the porch. But tonight felt different. Back when he thought that he had lost Loren, something had happened to Mitch. He realized how much he cared for the old guy. And with that realization came the awareness of how much he cared for Jeannie. They had become a family to him. Different than the family he had as a father to his kids, but a family nevertheless. And with that feeling of family came a feeling of responsibility, a feeling that he enjoyed having. Again, he looked at Jeannie, who was smiling and having trouble keeping her eyes open.

            "Here," he said, taking her mug and setting it on the coffee table, "You just relax. It's been a long day."

            "And night," Jeannie said, reaching for a blanket and pulling it around her. She looked at Mitch. "Can I rest on your shoulder?"

            "Sure," he said, raising his arm and pulling her in.

            "Thanks. I appreciate it." Then she looked at him with a smile that seemed like it may have held a deeper meaning. "I appreciate you, too, Mitch, more than I can say." She closed her eyes and snuggled in closer.

            In a few minutes her breathing shifted as her body relaxed and she fell into a deep sleep. Mitch held her close, feeling the warmth and security of being with this woman he had come to care so much for. Then he too drifted off, his dreams filled with visions of what may lie ahead. All of them good. And the fire in the fireplace burned down into a bed of glowing embers. And one of Loren's clocks chimed five times. The house lay still and peaceful in the cold winter's night.

            Around 7:00 am Loren came down stairs to make coffee and get some breakfast. He glanced into the living room and saw his daughter and Mitch asleep on the couch.

            "Good," he said to himself. "It's about time."

            And in a few minutes the coffee was ready. He poured himself a cup and sat at the kitchen table, sipping from it, thinking about the evening ahead and the stars he would see. Watching the night sky always seemed to rejuvenate him and make him feel alive and in touch with life and the world around him. He bet Mitch would go up on the hill with him to stargaze. Maybe Jeannie would too.

            He could hear them stirring in the living room and he called out, "Hey, you two in there want some coffee? I'll bring you some." He listened and then smiled. They both had said yes. He stood up and went to get two mugs. He had a vague memory that something had happened last night. What was it? He tried to remember but nothing came to him. Well, no big deal, he thought to himself. He poured the coffee and headed for the living room. A new day had begun and, for now, everything was looking fine and that's all that mattered.

            "You both up for some stargazing tonight?" He asked, walking into the room and setting the mugs on the coffee table.

            "You bet we are, dad," Jeannie said, looking at Mitch and smiling."Wouldn't miss it for the world."