Rest For The Weary

Several weeks ago, my grandson and I drove to Rest for The Weary. Lost in thought, I passed the road to my brother's farm. We ended up going the long route from the opposite side. We snaked along a winding road until a worn and beaten path appeared. We slowly turned onto it. It was cold and wet; puddles were everywhere, and the potholes and ruts rattled our bones. 

In the distance, we saw a cluster of trees. As we creaked towards the farm, memories flooded my mind, and my skull became a tomb full of ghosts. Echoes of the past verberated in my head, but Gabey brought me out of my reverie. "I hope we don't get stuck out here, gramps."

"Especially with zombies roaming the countryside," I said, pretending I was frightened. We are obsessed with anything zombie, and It lightened the mood and lessened my sorrow. 

Finally, the road opened up to the abandoned farm. I said, "Keep your head on a swivel. Walking dead might amble out of the mist!" Gabey nervously giggled. "Remember," I continued, "when you were four, and I'd drive you to karate class, we imagined undead were chasing us, and we'd wipe them out with our zombie zappers?"

"Yeah," he replied, "and we listened to Hall and Oats on the way there."

"You'd memorized the lyrics to several of their songs." Gabey giggled. It was a good memory, then I saw The Corn Crib and grew silent and almost wept. "That's his church," I whispered. "This was his dream. He loved the farm. Everywhere I look, I see him. It's as if I hear him calling."

"It's sad," Gabey said as he scanned the farm for walking dead.

"Don't worry, Gabey. I'll fend them off until you make it to the SUV, then I'll dash for it. Unless, of course, I wipe them out." I grinned as I reversed and came as near as I could to the front porch.

As we loaded the kitchen hutch, I reminisced and expressed the love Albert, Shio, and I had for each other. I recounted anecdotes about the three amigos, which had him smiling and me sighing. I said I felt I could bring Albert back if I wished hard enough. I expressed how we must love our families, respect one another, and appreciate every second of our lives. I told him to let dear ones know he loves and values them.

We strapped the kitchen cabinet down, then I returned to the porch and swept up mice droppings while Gabey waited outside. I couldn't help but think of Albert and thought I heard his voice. Then a bell tolled, and I quickly made it to the door. G stood before a giant cast-iron bell suspended between two thick posts. "I hadn't noticed it," I said.

"I hadn't either," he replied.

"I guess we should take off, Gabe."

"Okay," he said and headed for the Pilot.

I grabbed the rope and pulled hard, and the bell clanged repeatedly. I tolled the bell for Albert. I closed my eyes and imagined him walking toward me. I felt my heart about to burst, and I opened my eyes and saw Gabriel staring at me. I grinned and quickly yelled, "We better make a run for it, G. I just rang the dinner bell for the undead. They'll be coming soon!!" 

We hurried to the SUV, and as soon as we were in, Gabey locked the door. "We're safe now," I said. "This vehicle is impenetrable!"

As we drove away, I felt a profound loss. I thought, in the prairie state, in the middle of America, a few miles outside of Yorkville, is an abandoned farm that holds my brother's dreams. I whispered a prayer and said my goodbyes.

Gabey was listening to music as he stared out the window. I looked back and saw the farm fading into the mist, and I realized this would be the last time I'd see Rest for The Weary. I fought through a flood of emotions and felt a lump in my throat. I caught my breath, my eyes filled with tears, and I grunted, "I'll run over any undead that gets in our way." I cranked the radio and bellowed, "Let's rock and roll!" Gabey chuckled as I turned onto the main road, and we prepared to do some zombie ass-kicking.