Page 18 of His Wounded Heart

“I worked for a big manufacturing company. Worked my way up, got to the point I could see how the sausage was made. Wanna know how?”

I actually did. Bernie had not struck me as someone who’d worked his way into upper management for any company, so now I was curious.

“They make their money off the blood, sweat, and tears of their employees. These are the employees who damn near killed themselves getting new technology out to market before anyone else, but do they get a pat on the back when they’re done?”

I lean forward in my chair. “I’m assuming the answer is no.”

“You’d be right. As soon as the profits come rolling in, they slash R&D, automate production and do massive lay-offs, all so the suits in the corner offices can get their bonuses for not only rolling out a great product early, but for having saved money by laying off people. When I saw that is how things worked, I asked for my early retirement and got the hell out of there.” He stretches his bad leg out in front of him and stretches his arms toward the sky. “Before I left, I made sure to triple check that this here piece of property that I inherited from my uncle had a stream running through it like I remembered. It did. Then I sent out the company’s top-of-the-line mini hydroelectric power energy generator to myself as a retirement gift. Better than a gold watch.”

Bernie lets out a cackle that makes him sound like he’s auditioning for the part of the Wicked Witch of the West.

We got to talking about how little electricity his home needs, and how he stores the extra in an electric battery bank. “I might want to live life off the grid, but I like my creature comforts.” He grins at me. “How ’bout you? Have you needed to use the generator I left you, or has city electricity worked out for you?”

“I’ve been fine on the grid,” I smile.

“You ain’t showed your face in town much, ’cepting for gas and groceries. That cabin of mine doesn’t have cable; aren’t you a might bored now?”

I stretch back in his surprisingly comfortable deck chair and watch as he pulls a pipe pouch out of his jacket and starts stuffing it full of tobacco, then takes his time lighting it up.

“Well?” he asks after he takes a deep draw from his pipe.

“There’s only so many runs or calisthenics a man can do before he does want something that will stimulate his brain.”

“Yeah, it had to have gotten rough if you sussed me out.” He cackles again, then follows it up by coughing out smoke. His eyes water, but finishing off his beer seems to set everything to rights.

“I reckon you’re needing some people to watch over.”

I frown, and he sees it.

“Seriously, Simon, you were in the Navy how long?”

“Almost thirty years. Went in when I was eighteen, got my degree in mechanical engineering while I was enlisted. Rose through the ranks.”

“No wonder you can handle such a fancy watch. But tell me, how many years did you command men?”

“Twenty-four.”

“You seem to be on the bright side, so I’m gonna assume that you know that being in charge of someone doesn’t just mean you boss them around, you have to take care of them. You have to teach, guide, and provide moral support. Am I right?”

“You’re right,” I respond slowly. “But what’s with all the philosophizing?”

“I just think while you’re staying here in Jasper Creek, you need a bit of a purpose, and if part of that purpose is helping others it would work even better for you.” The last bit is said as he points the stem of his pipe at me.

I get up from my chair. “I’m going to grab another bottle of beer. It seems to me before you try to sucker me into something, I might as well be compensated by two bottles of beer.”

“Get one for me, too,” Bernie calls after me.

“That’s not good for the gout, is it?”

“Fuck that noise and get me my beer,” Bernie chuckles.

I stopped with one foot in and one foot out of the A-frame. “Seriously, should you be drinking beer with gout? From what I remember you shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.”

I wait to see what he will say.

“What are you, my mother? You’re only entitled to another beer if I get one too.” He twists in his chair so he can look me in the eye.

“Bernie, I can’t help it. It’s all these years of leadership in the Navy, I just want to provide you with good guidance.”