A Middle Falls Time Travel

Short Story

The Last Christmas of Robert Burke

Copyright 2019 by Shawn Inmon

All Rights Reserved

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

The Last Christmas of Robert Burke

Postscript

Author’s Note

Robert Burke shifted on the pavement, looking for that elusive position that didn’t send waves of pain along his back. He scooted against a brick wall and looked into the brown eyes of his dog Scruffy.

Scruffy smiled and her tail beat against the pavement. Content, even in the freezing cold.

Robert opened his sleeping bag a bit. Scruffy didn’t need to be asked twice. She dove in, turned around and burrowed against his chest. Robert zipped the bag back up and immediately felt better. Scruffy was a smallish dog of indeterminate heritage—not unlike Robert himself—but she gave off a lot of body heat. Her black and white fur was curly and her brown eyes rarely left Robert.

It was Thanksgiving and it had been an excellent day. He and Scruffy had enjoyed a turkey dinner at the mission and good-hearted people had popped into the area where most of the homeless congregated off and on all day, bringing socks and sandwiches. He had enough sandwiches stashed away in his backpack to last him at least a few days. He was wearing three pairs of new socks, which was an indescribably luxury.

Two or three days without having to worry about being hungry or providing for Scruffy—she always ate first—was rare and he reveled in it. Yes, the cold would be bitter through the night, but with his bag and Scruffy, he knew he would make it through.

He would have loved to have a bottle of cheap gin or vodka to sip on through the night, but that would have to wait for another day.

Robert closed his eyes and had just begun to drift away when a hard toe kicked him in his ribs.

“Ooof!” Robert defensively rolled up to protect Scruffy, who was growling and scratching to get out of the bag and attack their attacker.

“Gimme your food,” a gruff voice said.

Robert peered up and recognized the hulking figure of George, who was universally called Crazy George in the homeless community.

“Come on, Robbie. I know the do-gooders were here today. You’ve got food stashed away. Give it.”

Robert thought as fast as he could, weighing the comfort of having some extra food versus a physical confrontation with George. The food was nice, but it wasn’t necessary. He was in a bad position to defend himself, with his only arm zipped inside the sleeping bag. It was also possible that George would kick Scruffy and Robert had no money for a veterinarian.

“Now! Hurry up,” George said. He drew his foot back to aim another kick at the sleeping bag. Robert closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable blow.

It never came.

When Robert opened his eyes, George was flat on his back, trying desperately to draw breath into his lungs.

A shadowy figure stood over him.

“That’s the end of that. Understand?” The words came from the  shadowy figure. His voice was calm, which gave it authority.

George might have been crazy, but he wasn’t stupid. He turned over on all fours and crawled for a few feet before he scrambled to his feet and skittered away.

Robert’s rescuer kneeled and looked him over. Robert did the same with the stranger. He didn’t assume that just because this man had scared George away, that he was a friend. He might have simply seen an easy target and taken George’s place.

When Robert looked at the man’s face, he relaxed a bit. There was no malice to be found, only concern. Robert unzipped his sleeping bag and Scruffy scrambled out. She ambled up to the man with her tail wagging and licked his hand gently.

Good enough for me, Robert thought. I trust Scruff’s opinion of people more than my own.

The man could have passed for any other homeless person in the camp. He wore a green canvas army jacket that read McKenzie over the pocket. His hair was long and shaggy, and he had a slightly droopy mustache. His face was scarred enough that Robert knew why he was so calm during the confrontation—he’d been through many of them.

“You okay?” the man asked, rubbing Scruffy’s ears.

“Fine, thanks to you. I appreciate it.”

The man waved his hand, dismissing the thank you. “He thought he saw an easy target. It was easy to persuade him otherwise.” The man smiled down at Scruffy, who wagged her tail in delight. “You’ve got a good dog, here.”

“That’s Scruffy. My best friend.”

“Good choice,” the man said. He reached a hand out to Robert. “I’m Scott McKenzie.”

“Pleasure, Scott. I’m Robert.”

Scott glanced at the left sleeve of the tattered coat, which hung limp and empty. “Veteran?”

Robert nodded. “187th Infantry.”

“Ooof,” Scott said. “Depending on when you were in the shit, the 187th saw a lot of action.”

Robert just nodded again but didn’t elaborate.

“Listen. Some friends and I have started something new out in Oregon. We call it The Oasis, but it’s just a place for people like you and I to rest for a while. There’s a warm bunk, a lot of other men that have seen the same things you and I have seen, and three hot meals a day. I’d like to offer you the chance to come out and stay for a while. If you’d like that, I’ll give you enough money for a bus ticket and food on the way.”

Robert looked at Scott evenly. No one had ever offered him a hand up like that.

Where were you twenty years ago? I think it’s too late now.

Scott waited silently, watching Robert as he turned the idea over in his mind.

“That sounds like a damned good thing you’re doing. If it’s true, you’ve got my respect. I can’t accept, though.” He patted his leg softly and Scruffy instantly returned to him. “Buses don’t let dogs ride and I would no more leave Scruffy here than I would cut off my other arm.”

Scott nodded and was quiet for a few moments. Finally, he said, “What do you say to this? I’m pulling up stakes tomorrow and driving back to the Oasis. Would you and Scruffy ride along with me? If you get there and don’t like it, I’ll get both of you to wherever you’d like to be.”

Where I’d like to be. An image rose unbidden in his mind. A small, white cottage with warm light pouring from the window and a red-haired girl waiting just inside the front door. That’s where I’d like to be. That’s been gone for too many years, though.

Scott stood up, stretched a little, and said, “Tell you what. I’ve got a few other bus tickets I’m gonna hand out if I can find the right people. I’ll do that, then swing back by. You and Scruffy put your heads together and figure out what you want to do.”

Scott turned to go, but Robert said, “Hold on. What do you mean by ‘the right people?’ What kind of people are you looking for?”

“Veterans, to start with,” Scott said. “But we’ve got limited space at the Oasis, so I try to find people who will benefit from staying there the most. Vets who are on their own, sleeping outside or in doorways, but haven’t gone too far around the bend to be helped.”

“How do you know I haven’t gone too far around the bend?”

“Scruffy vouches for you. That’s good enough for me.”

Scott walked away to talk to a man who was warming his hands over a can of sterno. He kneeled beside him and fell into a conversation.

Robert petted Scruffy softly. “Whadya think, girl? Any reason for us to stick around here, or should we take a chance and spend the holidays in Oregon?”

Scruffy smiled and let her tongue loll. She didn’t seem to care either way. Robert always consulted her, but she let him make all the decisions.

And hour later, Robert and Scruffy were settled back down in their sleeping bag. Scott hadn’t returned and Robert had begun to think he might have imagined him.

Just as he began to drift off again, Scott kneeled beside him.

“Well, what do you and Scruffy think? Want to head west with me tomorrow?”

Robert looked a little embarrassed but met Scott’s eyes. “We don’t smell too good, you know. Scruffy just smells like a dog, but I’m pretty sure I’m worse than that. I get a motel room and take a shower when I get my monthly check, but that’s been almost a month ago now.”

“Listen. I’d like to get an early start in the morning, so why don’t we gather up your stuff and go on back to a little motel where I’ve got a room. They allow dogs, so you two can have a room to yourselves and you can get cleaned up if you want. It’s not the Hilton, but it’s got lots of hot water.”

Robert had literally been through the war, but this act of kindness caused tears to well up in his eyes.

“Thank you, Scott. If that’s the case, we’ll accept your hospitality.”

“It’s no big deal,” Scott said. “I charge it all to the Oasis. Not a penny comes out of my own pocket—they won’t let me. Now, what can I help you carry?”

Robert didn’t have much. He’d learned over the years that traveling light was the best plan, so he had the layers of clothing he was wearing, his backpack, and one plastic garbage bag with a few other items. Scott tossed both the pack and the garbage bag over his shoulder, the extended his right hand to Robert.

“Can you hang on just a second?” Robert asked. I’ve got a few sandwiches saved up and I’d like to give them out before I leave. If everything you say is true, I won’t need ‘em.”

Scott understood. Those with the least often give the most. “No problem. I’m not in a big hurry. Go ahead.”

Robert set his belongings down, riffled through the bag for his sandwiches and hurried around the small encampment, handing them out like a Santa dressed in rags.

He returned, picked up his sleeping bag up and tucked it under his right arm. Scruffy danced excitedly around, ready for whatever adventure was about to present itself.

“Ready,” Robert announced.  He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a vehicle a man like Scott McKenzie might drive. He wondered if it might be a luxury SUV that he would hesitate to get in, but Scott led him to a fifteen-year-old Ford F-150. Scott unlocked the passenger side and Robert patted the seat. Scruffy sprang up first onto the floorboards, then on to the seat like she belonged there.

Scott stored Robert’s belongings behind the seat then unlocked the driver’s door. He started the engine and said, “It’s kind of an old beast, but as soon as the engine warms up, she’ll put out some degrees for us.”

“It’s already better than sleeping on concrete, I promise you that.”

Scott drove the truck through the city streets as though he knew exactly where he was going. The motel—a sign outside blinked “Charlie’s Inn” off and on—wasn’t fancy. In fact, it was one of the places that allowed Robert to stay when he’d gotten his check at the beginning of each month.

When he pulled into the lot, Scott said, “Just a minute, I’ll go make arrangements for your room.”

For five minutes, Robert sat in the truck, trying to come to grips with this sudden change in circumstance. An hour earlier, he was ready to bed down on the cold concrete. Now, he was looking forward to a soft bed and a hot shower. He petted Scruffy, who sat alert on Robert’s knees, waiting for Scott to come back out.  

Soon enough, Scott climbed back into the truck. He handed Robert a key on a plastic keychain. “You’re in forty-two. I’m in thirty. Come knock on my door if you need anything.” Scott pulled directly in front of room number forty-two and said, “If we get an early start, I think we can make it to the Oasis in a day’s drive. How does six o’clock sound?”

“I thought you wanted to get an early start? Scruffy and I are up and around by five most days.”

“Five thirty it is, then,” Scott said. He didn’t offer to help Robert with his stuff. He knew he was used to doing for himself and getting by.

Robert clicked his tongue and Scruffy jumped down from the cab. Robert eased himself down, then said, “See you in the morning. And thanks.”

Scott once again waved the thanks away and drove to park a few doors down from room thirty.

Robert set his pack and bag down and opened the door. The room was exactly like he’d expected—a queen bed with a floral stain-resistant comforter, a nightstand, and an old dresser with a television on it. It had been so long since Robert had watched TV that he never considered turning it on.

Instead, he drew a few inches of warm water in the tub and set about giving Scruffy a bath. She didn’t love it but stood with as much dignity as she could muster while Robert soaped and rinsed her. When he lifted her onto the floor, she shook from her nose to her scraggly tail.

“Good girl. My turn, now.”

Scruffy hopped out of the bathroom, shaking her paw at each step, then turned around and laid her head between her paws, ever watchful when it came to Robert.

Thirty minutes later, dog and master were comfortably in the bed and Robert’s snores echoed through the room.

The next morning, Robert woke up even earlier than he had predicted. He walked Scruffy over to the one strip of grass in the motel lot and let her do her business. By 5:30, he sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Scott to pull up.

When he did, they took the same positions as the had the night before. On the edge of town, they stopped to gas up. Scott trotted into the store and returned with two coffees and a bag of Danishes. Tucked under his arm was a small bag of dog food.

“Let’s put some miles under the wheels,” Scott said, handing the bag to Robert. There’s some creamers in the bag if you want.”

“I let go of niceties like cream in my coffee quite a few years back, but thanks. I do appreciate coffee in the morning.”

They drove through the early-morning darkness for more than an hour without either of them speaking. Scott tended to keep to himself in most circumstances and when he was with someone heading to the Oasis, he never pried.

Eventually, Robert said, “I meant for Scruffy and I to head south before the bad weather hit this year. It’s a lot nicer to spend the winter in Southern California than it is up here. We tried for a few days, but it’s tough to get a ride when you look like you might be a one-armed serial killer.”

Scott laughed a little at that, then said, “I’m not worried about that. What are the odds of two serial killers being in the same vehicle?”

That struck Robert as odd, but he felt like he knew Scott well enough to not worry about him. It was obvious he only had good intentions.

An hour later, Scott said, “Need a rest stop?” as he pointed to a sign that read “Rest Area One Mile.”

“I’m fine, but maybe Scruffy would like a little walk if you don’t mind.”

“I never mind stretching my legs a little.”

Robert didn’t have a leash for Scruffy, but he didn’t need one. Through a series of clicks and low whistles, she stayed right with him.

As Robert and Scott watched Scruffy read the invisible messages that other dogs had left behind, Robert spoke softly.

“I guess I should tell you about something in case it makes a difference. I haven’t felt quite right for a while.”

“What’s ‘a while’?”

Robert shrugged eloquently. “You know how it is. Something feels a little off, but there’s nothing you can do about it, so you ignore it and hope it goes away. Maybe it does, at least for a few weeks or a month. Then it comes back.”

“You’re a vet. You have health benefits.”

Robert nodded, embarrassed. “I never got all the paperwork taken care of.”

“I get it. Doesn’t matter now. We built a hospital at the Oasis over the last few years. If there’s something wrong, we can help you deal with it. There’s no paperwork at the Oasis.”

“You know this place sounds too good to be true, right?”

“If somebody told me about it, that’s what I’d think, too.” Scott smiled and said, “But if we don’t get back on the road, you’ll never find out.”

Robert gave a short whistle and Scruffy returned, happy and ready to curl up for a nap.

The skies drew dark by 4:30 and an hour later, it was completely dark. They drove on.

They stopped for burgers at a roadside drive-in, then pushed on again.

A little before midnight, they passed through the town of Middle Falls, Oregon. On a weekday in early December, the small town was quiet, with the only sign of life the blinking Christmas lights and an animated Santa Claus in front of Artie’s Drive-In.

“Middle Falls?” Robert asked. “You didn’t say this Oasis place was in Middle Falls.”

“Didn’t think it mattered. Does it?”

Robert was quiet for a minute, then said, “No, not really. This is where I was born. My parents moved away before I started kindergarten, but in some ways, I guess it’s my hometown.”

“Huh. How about that? Well, welcome home, Robert. I was born here too, but I went to live with my grandparents in Indiana when I was ten. I guess we’re both transplanted Middle Fallers.”

It was obvious there was a story there, but Robert didn’t pry. Instead, he turned his head left and right, drinking in Middle Falls. He didn’t remember any of it.

He wasn’t the inquisitive type, but something compelled Robert to ask, “Ever been married?”

“No. I was engaged once, but that was lifetimes ago.”

Robert nodded. Lots of things seemed like they had happened lifetimes ago to him as well.

“How about you?” Scott asked, more out of politeness than curiosity.

“Yeah. My high school sweetheart. She waited for me when I enlisted, and we got married between my first and second tour. Nine months later, our little girl Natalie arrived. I didn’t see her until she was two years old. I haven’t seen her in much longer than that now.” Robert was quiet for a few long moments, then concluded the short story of his marriage. “I wasn’t a very good husband and I knew my wife and Natalie would be better off without me around. Haven’t seen Nat in more than thirty years now.”

Scott turned left at the edge of town and drove down a quiet country road for half a mile. He turned right onto a private road and his headlights illuminated a sign: The Rodrigo Hart Oasis for Veterans.

Scott looked at Robert, a twinkle in his eyes. “It’s real, just in case you were in doubt.”

“I figured it was. I couldn’t think of one other reason why you would want to drag my old carcass all the way out here.”

Robert looked at the buildings and land, which extended well beyond anything he had imagined. All the buildings were rustic but were obviously well-built and maintained. They drove past one large building with a sign that read, ‘Community Center,’ and another that read ‘Bunk House’ that looked big enough to house a hundred men.

To Robert’s eye, it looked like a campground for people who were richer than he was.

Scott stopped in front of a small cabin.

“I called ahead and they held this cabin for you. It’s yours for as long as you want.”

Robert looked from the cabin to Scott and back at the cabin. He shook his head. “I don’t get it. Why? And how can you afford to do this?”

“I couldn’t. My friend Joe Hart did. You’ve probably never heard of him, but he’s the richest guy in Middle Falls. He wanted to do something with all the money he fell into, and he and I came up with this idea. He runs it with his wife Sam now. Or, I should say she runs it and he stays out of the way. As to the why, he just thought this was something good to do with his money.”

“That isn’t the way most rich people think.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Scott agreed. “Joe’s different. Anyway, go on in, that’s your home for as long as you want. It’s unlocked and waiting for you. There are clean sheets and everything you need to be comfortable. You can come over to the Community Center for any of your meals, but there’s a few things in the pantry waiting for you if you don’t want to venture out.”

Scott handed the small bag of dog food over. “This will get Scruffy started, but there’s an animal shelter here in the Oasis. If you go there, they’ll get you set up with anything you need. I’ll come over in the morning and check on you. I might sleep in a little after driving all day, though. If you want to, go over to the community center any time after 6:00. It’s open from six to midnight every day.”

“You know this is all like a dream, right? I figure maybe Crazy George kicked my head in and this is what I’ve chosen to dream about before I cross over.”

“I get it. G’night, Robert. I’ll catch up with you somewhere along the line tomorrow.”

Robert slung his pack over his shoulder and managed to carry the shopping bag and dog food without stumbling.

He tried the knob and found it wasn’t locked. He pushed the door open to the cottage and stopped to catch his breath. The interior of the cabin wasn’t luxurious, but then, any kind of luxury would have made him uncomfortable. The cabin was really just one big room, with a kitchen along one wall, a dining room table in the middle, a twin bed tucked into a corner and a bathroom opposite. There weren’t many decorations, but there was a framed Serenity Prayer on one wall and a few rustic touches.

“Whaddya say, Scruff? Does this look like home?”

Scruffy woofed quietly once, as though contemplating the question.

“You’re right, you’re right. This looks a lot better than any place we’d ever stay.”

Scruffy put her nose to the floor and sniffed every corner and surface low enough for her to reach. After a few minutes of that, she curled up on a rug in the middle of the room and sighed. The Scruffy seal of approval.

Robert started to unpack his belongings into a dresser, but in the good light of the cabin, he could see how filthy they were. He noticed a bifold door at the side of the kitchen and pulled it open. Inside were a stacked washer and dryer. A shelf held detergent and fabric softener.

“They thought of everything,” Robert mused while he tossed a load in the washer. “Better take you for one last walk before we hit the hay.”

When she heard the word ‘walk,’ Scruffy was up and at attention at the door. Outside, they found several lighted walking paths that shot off in several directions. As late and cold as it was, the paths were all deserted, but they wandered along by themselves until Robert was worn out. Scruffy, of course never wore out.

Robert knew he’d pushed it too far in exploring their new digs and began to wonder if he’d make it back, but his little cabin came into view before he collapsed. Once inside, he barely made it to the bed before he dropped across it fully dressed. Scruffy hopped up beside him and laid her head across his back, perfectly content.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, ROBERT felt better. The beds in the oasis were much more comfortable than the concrete he had slept on for so long.

He enjoyed the luxury of another hot shower and found a disposable razor blade and shaving cream in the medicine cabinet. He scraped and cussed at his face for long minutes before he splashed cold water and looked in the mirror. He almost didn’t recognize the man staring back at him.

Robert was sixty-five years old, but he could have passed for a man fifteen years older. With a few good night’s sleep, showers in back to back days, and a shave under his belt, he looked much more like the man he could have been.

When he opened the bathroom door, Scruffy barked at him once, as though unsure he might be the same man who had stepped inside. One sniff reassured her that this was her human after all, just a cleaner version.

Robert dressed in his best, fresh out of the dryer, but knew that they were still none-too-good.

“At least we smell better, right, Scruff?”

Scruffy panted her agreement, although she would have agreed with almost anything Robert said. They were partners.

Robert opened the front door and saw the weather had taken a turn for the colder. A stiff breeze blew and there were patches of frost on the ground.

“We’re hardy folk though, aren’t we?”

Scruffy darted through the door, saw a fat squirrel on the path ahead and took after him. The squirrel ran up a nearby tree and chittered and laughed down at Scruffy, who seemed not to care at all.

“Come on, Scruffy-girl, let’s see what kind of chow they might have in this place.”

An easy five-minute walk took them to the Community Center. Robert pushed open the door and Scruffy bounced through like she belonged there. Based on the reactions of the first few people they ran into, she was right. Everyone who passed her knelt or bent over and scratched her ears or patted her head.

A white-haired man with a limp took Robert in from head to toe—the left sleeve that hung loosely, the tattered clothes, the freshly-shaved face. He stuck out his hand.

“I’m Billy, but everybody here calls me Sarge. New arrival?”

“Sure am.”

“Come on with me, then. I’ll be your tour guide. It took me a few days to get my sea legs around this place, it’s so damned big. Let’s get you some breakfast first. Some for you and whoever this little fella is.”

“That little fella is a filly, and her name is Scruffy.”

“My apologies, little one. Follow me.”

Billy led Robert and Scruffy through a huge open room filled tables. At least half had a few people seated at them. Some men sat off by themselves reading or just drinking coffee, others grouped together, talking. Some were quiet, some were boisterous, and one table erupted in laughter.

Robert shot a glance their way as though they might be laughing at him in his rags, but saw that was not the case.

At the back of the dining room, a roll-up door was lifted, and Robert could see into the kitchen, where three men were busily working.

There was a long, stainless steel counter underneath the roll-up door and there were serving pans over hot water.

“We’ve got biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and fried potatoes this morning. If you just want coffee, it’s over there,” Billy said, nodding toward an industrial-sized silver coffee pot. He turned and pointed to another door at the back of the dining room. “Through there is the PX. It’s a little different, though. Everything is free. You can get yourself outfitted there after breakfast.”

Billy reached a hand out to Robert. “I know it’s a little overwhelming when you first get here. Too good to be true, or something. Remember that all of us came from the same circumstances. We’ve all spent our nights with a blanket of stars and the moon.”

Robert made a small plate of biscuits with hamburger gravy for Scruffy, then a slightly bigger plate for himself. He knew his stomach had shrunk during his homeless years and he didn’t want to spend his first full day with one end or the other stuck in the porcelain princess. He set Scruffy’s plate on the ground beside a chair at an empty table. She had licked it clean before he settled in.

“No complaints, huh Scruff?”

He sat at an empty table, but it didn’t stay empty for too long. First one man, then another, then another, came by and said, “Mind if I sit?”

Within fifteen minutes, Robert’s table was the fullest in the dining room. War stories, lies, and perhaps a kernel or two of truth flew around the table over the next two hours.

As happened so often in the Oasis, the talk turned to how they had arrived at homelessness.

Around the table, one man after another told their story. Slightly different circumstances, but with common roots. Being turned out of the service without a plan, emotional issues, drug and alcohol dependency, and an inability to relate to people who didn’t understand what they were feeling.

When all eyes turned to Robert, he paused, turning his coffee cup, then said, “Have you ever been in a car wreck?”

A few men around the table nodded.

“That’s what it was like for me, I think. You’re driving in the car, going to the store or to visit a friend. Everything seems okay. In fact, you’re convinced that everything is okay. And then, no matter how convinced you are, in a heartbeat nothing is okay. The car is going end over end, or slamming into an embankment, or skidding out of control. One moment, you think you’re in control, the next you know you’re not. That’s what it was like for me.”

Scott McKenzie poked his head in, saw Robert was surrounded, and slipped away.

Before the day was out, Robert had visited the free PX, where they plied him with new clothes—three pairs of jeans, underwear, socks, and warm flannel shirts. When he returned to his cabin for the evening, he laid his new clothes alongside his old on his bed. He shook his head at the change in circumstance, bundled his old rags together and put them into his black plastic bag. He set it in the closet in case he needed it later.

When he laid in bed that night—clean, with a full stomach and Scruffy snoring slightly beside him—he felt the familiar pain return.

“This place is a miracle,” he said to himself, “but not that kind of miracle.”

* * *

ROBERT SPENT THE NEXT few days in a near-constant state of wonder. Before he met Scott McKenzie, he had so many problems, he couldn’t quite capture them all at once. Thanks to Scott and the Oasis, those problems had shrunk. He didn’t have to worry about freezing to death on a particularly cold night. He had more food than he could possibly eat. Just as important as those considerations, though was that the companionship he had enjoyed when he was down and out was even more easily found here.

There were card games—hearts, spades, and cribbage were the most popular—that broke out in the dining room every afternoon. Most nights, there was a movie playing in the small theater. There was a ping-pong game going on much of the day too, but Robert didn’t feel up to that.

After he’d been there a week and begun to adjust to the rhythm of his new life, Scott caught him just as he was taking Scruffy for her afternoon walk.

“Mind if I walk along with you?”

“Of course not. I think Scruffy’s missed you.”

“Really? Every time I see her, she’s got suitors lined up, waiting for their chance to pet her.”

Robert laughed a little. “That’s true. She’s always made friends easily. Don’t know why I got so lucky as to have her pick me to be her person. I would have been gone long ago if not for her.”

“Speaking of which, you said you had some health concerns. We’ve got this new hospital here with all kinds of equipment just waiting to be tried out.”

“I know I should. That makes sense. It’s the same old story—as long as I don’t know for sure, I feel like I can keep telling myself everything’s probably all right.”

“But if it’s not all right,” Scott answered, “it’s so much better to find out now, instead of later.”

Robert nodded his agreement. “You’re right. I can’t put it off any longer. I’ve just been worried about what will happen with Scruffy if I’m in there for very long.”

“The first appointment won’t last long. You’ll be in and out in a couple of hours. You could drop her off at the shelter for a few hours, or you could take her to the Community Center. Everyone there loves her. She won’t be short on attention.”

That night, Robert had a hard time sleeping, regardless of how happily warm he was, how soft the bed, or how full his belly.

He knew he had come upon a bridge in his life and he felt sure he knew what was on the other side of that bridge—darkness, and plenty of it.

The doctor from the hospital had sent a note around the night before asking Robert not to consume anything other than clear liquid the next morning. Even though he couldn’t have his morning coffee, he was up early and took Scruffy for the longest walk he was capable of before dropping her off at the Community Center.

He found Bill and asked if he would keep an eye on Scruffy for a few hours. He agreed, of course. Scruffy was a calming presence everywhere she went and would always be welcome.

Robert turned himself over to the hospital system at 8:00 a.m. They kept him much longer than a few hours, poking and prodding him until he thought they would never let him go.

They didn’t have conclusive tests back that day, but every early indicator showed that he was gravely ill.

By the time the tests all came back from the lab the following day, it was confirmed.

Robert’s system was shutting down. His kidneys weren’t functioning.

He was dying.

He took it all in stride. “That’s why I didn’t want to know, I guess. Somewhere inside, I could already tell.” He didn’t bother to ask, “How long?” or any other dramatic questions. He could tell by the face of the nurses and doctors that time was short. The only thing he said was, “I don’t want to die in a hospital.”

His primary doctor consulted with several colleagues, who agreed that if he could find someone to check in on him in his cabin regularly, and if the doctor didn’t mind making the walk over from the hospital every day, there was no harm in it.

It was easy to find volunteers. There were several medics staying in the Oasis and they stepped up instantly, offering to take shifts in Robert’s cabin whenever necessary.

For the first few days after his diagnosis, Robert thought that wouldn’t be necessary. He still got up early and met the other vets in the Community Center for coffee. His appetite was fading and, skinny as he was, he was managing to lose weight, but he was still capable of taking Scruffy for short walks.

Scruffy seemed to sense that he was failing. She never left him and on her walks, she did her business quickly and whined to return to their cabin, where Robert could rest.

Considering where he had been just a few weeks earlier, Robert was in as good a position as he could have been. When he was resting in his cabin, he tried to imagine what it would have been like to meet this same end on the streets. He was still concerned about what would happen with Scruffy now, but at the Oasis he knew he had options.

The days began to run together, and Robert lost track of time. He slept more and more and there were times when he didn’t make a lot of sense when he talked.

Eventually, everyone who cared for him sensed the end was near. The medics had seen death dozens and dozens of times and they knew it was approaching.

Most of the time, the curtains were pulled tight in the little cabin but one afternoon, Daniel, one of the medics who cared for him, flung them open wide.

“Robert, it’s going to be a white Christmas.”

Robert propped himself up on his elbows and looked out the picture window. Heavy snow was falling, and the boughs of the trees were already collecting enough to droop slightly.

“Would you mind taking Scruffy out for a short walk? She loves snow.”

“You bet. We’ll be right back.”

Daniel opened the door and Scruffy bolted out, snapping at the snowflakes. Scott McKenzie was standing on the porch, just about to knock. He smiled at Daniel, said, “Merry Christmas,” and stepped inside.

“Robert, I’ve got some company here to see you. Is that all right?”

“Of course. Who is it, some of the boys? They never need to ask, you know that.”

“No, this is someone else.” Scott paused, looking slightly embarrassed. “Ever since I brought you here, I’ve been on a mission, and I think I accomplished it.”

Scott poked his head outside and said, “Come in, come in. You’ll freeze out there.”

A small red-haired woman stepped tentatively inside, holding the hand of an equally red-haired boy who appeared to be four or five years old.

Robert showed absolutely no sign of recognition but looked from the woman to Scott and back.

Tears welled in the woman’s eyes and she said, “Dad?”

That single word hit Robert harder than any punch or kick he’d ever absorbed on the street. That morning, he had resigned himself to the fact that he would never sit up again, but now, he sat full upright. His eyes flew wide and with infinite softness, he said, “Natalie?”

Natalie’s eyes overflowed and her chin quivered. She tried to speak, but nothing came out, so she just nodded. The little boy holding her hand looked up at her in surprise.

“You okay, Mama?”

Robert took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. “Mama?”

Natalie nodded again. “This is your grandson.”

Robert shook his head in disbelief. He reached a hand out to the young boy, who shrank against his mother’s side a little. “What’s your name?”

The boy clung to his mother, but said, “Robbie.”

Robert closed his eyes and absorbed that. He shook his head, unable to grasp everything that had happened in the last minute.

Natalie pushed forward and took her father’s hand, then enveloped him in a hug that seemed to last a lifetime.

Scott McKenzie stepped to the door and said, “I’m not needed here. I’ll have Daniel deliver Scruffy back, then we’ll give you some privacy.”

* * *

EARLY THAT DAY, BEFORE the snowfall and the unexpected arrival of Natalie and Robbie, Robert

Burke had been ready to die. He had heard death’s footsteps and didn’t mind their approach.

Now, holding his daughter and meeting his grandson and namesake had revitalized him. He had

expected to never get out of his bed again, but he did just that. He and Natalie sat on the couch, heads almost touching, trying to catch up on a lost lifetime in a few hours.

As promised, Daniel opened the door for Scruffy, who bounded in, wagging her tail and letting out soft barks of excitement at seeing the new visitors. She sniffed Natalie and Robbie, then jumped on the couch and laid in her accustomed spot across Robert’s lap.

“Who is this?” Natalie exclaimed.

“This is Scruffy. She has kept me alive this last year. I owe her everything.”

Robbie, who had been uncertain about Robert, abandoned all pretense and ran to Scruffy. He threw his arms around her and she happily bathed his face in wet kisses.

“Robbie, Scruffy loves everyone, but I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her take to someone quite that fast.”

“She’s beautiful,” Robbie said.

“She is, in her own way. And inside, she has the heart of a lion and the patience of a saint. She’s the best dog in the world.”

“How did you find her?” Robbie asked, wide-eyed.

“I didn’t find her, she found me. That’s the only explanation. She knew I needed someone, and she volunteered.”

“Dad, what can we do to get you better? Should we transfer you to a hospital up in Portland?”

“What, are you made of money?” Robert teased. “No, there’s not a thing wrong with this hospital. I was just stubborn and got here too late.”

“What does that mean?”

“Let’s talk about that later, okay. Plenty of time for that. I want to hear all about your life. I missed it all. The greatest thing you can do is bring it all into focus for me.”

“I will, but I have to know. Why did you never look for us?”

“I was ashamed,” Robert said simply. “I didn’t want you to see me the way I was.” He rose and slowly walked across the cabin. He reached in a small closet and pulled out the rags he had been wearing when Scott had found him. “This was me, before I came here.”

“I wouldn’t have cared. I would have taken care of you.”

Robert dropped the tattered clothes back in the bag and nodded. “I cared. It’s all my fault. Not yours, not your mother’s, just me.” He stopped and considered. “How is she? Your mom?”

“She’s good. She got remarried a few years after you left. He is a nice man. They’ve moved to California.”

Robert smiled. “Good. I never stopped loving her, even after all these years.”

“You shouldn’t have left.”

“I know.”

Natalie and Robbie stayed until late into the night, trying to cram a lifetime of conversation into those too-short hours. Robbie curled up with Scruffy on Robert’s bed and dropped off. Eventually, Natalie’s eyes grew heavy, too.

“I hate it, but I’m about to fall asleep mid-sentence,” she said. “That man who found me and brought me here gave us a little cabin like this to stay in for as long as we want. I’ll carry Robbie over and grab a few hours of sleep, then we’ll be back.”

“You bet. I think there’s biscuits and gravy on the menu tomorrow. Make sure you grab some breakfast, then come back and we can spend the day together.”

Natalie hugged Robert tight and whispered in his ear, “I love you Dad.”

They were the sweetest words Robert had ever heard.

* * *

NATALIE AND ROBERT skipped breakfast. She was anxious to resume their conversation. Robbie couldn’t wait to see Scruffy again.

They found Robert in bed, not breathing. Scruffy was curled up on his chest. Her brown eyes were mournful, but her tail thumped lightly when she saw Robbie.

There was a note on the bedside table.

Natalie and Robbie;

I’m sorry to leave you when I just found you, but some things cannot be delayed. It’s my time and I am ready. When you walked into my room yesterday, I realized that was what I’ve been holding on to my life for. I needed to see you.

And Robbie. He is a treasure. Until yesterday, I didn’t know he existed, but I loved him immediately.

If you have room in your lives, I would like you to take Scruffy with you. She really is the best dog in the world.

I’m so sorry I left you. I was wrong. If I had it to do over again, I would never leave you.

Dad

Postscript

Robert Burke opened his eyes.

He stumbled forward and was caught by a young redheaded girl.

“Honey,” she said. “Are you all right?”

Robert gaped down at his left arm and flexed his fingers.

“Robert?” A flash of concern crossed her pretty face. “You okay?”

Robert looked left and right, completely lost and unsure of where he was. Finally, he focused on the girl beside him. “Annie?”

That made her laugh. “Of course, silly. Who else would I be? Are you feeling okay? Maybe we should put off going into the recruiter’s office until tomorrow.”

Robert looked up and finally realized where he was. The U.S. Army Recruiting Office was dead ahead. The same one where he had joined the army decades before.

He looked at Annie, held out his miraculously whole left hand.

“I think you’re right. Let’s put it off.”

He pulled her close and kissed her.

Author’s Note

I originally wrote The Final Christmas of Robert Burke as a Christmas gift for the subscribers to my New Release Newsletter. If you would like to get notifications when I publish a new story and get one of the two or three new short stories I send out for free each year, you can join my newsletter here.

I try to write at least one new Christmas short story every year and they inevitably turn out to be among my favorite stories of each year. For this story, I wasn’t intending on writing in my Middle Falls universe. In fact, I had a hard time coming up with a story at all. I turned to my constant muse, my wife Dawn, and asked her for one single word. I told her I would write a short story around that word.

She gave me the word homeless.

Short side note: Dawn often comments that my short stories tend to be bleak. I can now tell her that when she gives me words like homeless to base a story on, they may not turn out to be happy-go-lucky.

In the end, I see The Final Christmas of Robert Burke as a hopeful story with a happy ending. Like so many denizens of Middle Falls, he gets another chance to write his life’s story.

And that’s the strength of the premise of Middle Falls, isn’t it? I think most of us wouldn’t mind the opportunity to go back and tinker with a few things in our lives when we veered left instead of right, or said no when maybe we should have said yes.

There are thirteen full-length novels in The Middle Falls Time Travel Series now. I initially thought there would be only one—The Unusual Second Life of Thomas Weaver. Then, I thought there would be a trilogy. Then I tried to stop at six. And again at twelve. Now I have to admit that I will keep returning to this world I love as long as my brain keeps giving me new stories to tell in it.

Thank you for joining me on this little side trip into Middle Falls. I appreciate you.

Shawn Inmon

Tumwater, WA

December 2020