Pieces of Daniel

The section below follows Daniel Pasternak, a character from Pale White Horse, while he lived in West Virginia during his youth (mid 1970s). Daniel, a warm, gentle, and loving man, has always had so much to give but is destined never to receive.

Where Do You Come From?

On Christmas Eve during Daniel’s freshman year of high school, the family gathered at Daniel’s Pawpaw’s place in Charleston, as was the tradition. However, this year was slightly different. This year, instead of going to the basement to hang out with the cousins, Daniel stayed upstairs to investigate his family’s past. Drawn to the photos on the wall, he thought for sure they would reveal what he sought. Daniel had been there a thousand times before, but this was the first time he had ever given them more than a glance. The draw was likely set off by a recent essay prompt from his English class, “Where do you come from?”

In Daniel’s response to the essay prompt, having been brought up Baptist and combined with a scientific mind, he had written about cell structure and Jesus. After a few of his classmates read their essays aloud about their grandparents, great grandparents, and other ancestors, he started to feel a little brainless and shrank down into his seat.

The bell had rung before Daniel’s turn to speak. He quickly gathered his things and tried to walk out the door without making cause for interaction with anyone. However, Daniel’s teacher, Mr. Cormier, pulled him to the side as everyone left the class.

“Everything cool, Daniel?” Mr. Cormier asked. 

Daniel looked down at the ground, shrugged, and shifted from one foot to the other before handing over his essay.

His teacher looked up after reading it and said, “Daniel, you see things like no one else. I love that you responded the way you did. It’s important to know there wasn’t a right answer. The prompt was a starting point in a discussion. It’s a fantastic essay.” 

Mr. Cormier handed the paper back to him, smiled, and said, “Next time, I’d love to hear about your family. But for today, this was a perfect response.”

Even if Daniel had started to write about his grandparents and everyone who came before them, there wouldn’t be much he could write. His family was tight-knit, but no one ever talked about family older than Pawpaw.

This Christmas, Daniel wanted to find out. He walked down the main hall, investigating each frame and collage. There were so many happy moments. Pictures of the family hiking in the Appalachian Mountains and swimming and boating on the New River. Hunting trips throughout the years. There were picnics and parties. Softball games and recitals. There were some in color and some in black and white. But the one that most intrigued Daniel was the one at the end of the hall above the writing-table. 

The picture was a black and white photograph, tinged yellow. There were six men. Four were clearly miners, their coal-caked skin contrasting with the brightness of their eyes and clean skin atop of their foreheads that had been shielded by their helmets. Their pickaxes were held in their hands or rested on their shoulders. 

One man was in a suit and tie, looking prim and proper, seeming to be standing as far away as would be socially allowed without insulting the dirtied men. The sixth man stood between the miners and the clean man. He looked as if he had torn off the outer dressings of his suit, left with only a cuffed shirt, sleeves rolled up, and fancy trousers, both covered in coal dust but nowhere near as bad as the miners. It looked like he had left the office and taken a turn down in the mine for a few. His arm was thrown around the shoulder of the nearest miner like they were the best of friends, and his face was lit up with an enormous contagious smile. The smile was infectious enough the two closest miners were smiling too… but not the clean man.

“That was my Daddy, Gideon Morgan,” Pawpaw said as he came up behind Daniel and pointed to the man with the semi-clean man with the big smile. Daniel jumped a little, as he usually did when Pawpaw would walk up from behind. No one ever heard Pawpaw coming, courtesy of his First Special Service Force days during World War II. 

“He looks happy,” Daniel said.

“He loved what he did,” Pawpaw said in the gruff way he always talked. “He was a big shot coal man. He died when I was seven.”  

“What did he die of?” Daniel asked.

“Explosion in the mine.” Pawpaw responded. 

“I’m sorry, Pawpaw. That must have been rough,” Daniel said, briefly thinking of what it would be like to lose his own father, then quickly changing to a different thought.

Pawpaw put his arm around Daniel, embracing him in a side hug, “It was rough to tell you the truth. But, I was thankful for my Ma and my brother and sister. We were always there for each other.”

“You know,” Pawpaw continued, “I only knew him for seven years, but still, I think about him every day. He shapes almost everything I do.” Pawpaw pointed to the sofa nearby for the two of them to sit. 

Pawpaw shared all he knew about Daniel’s great grandfather. Gideon had come to West Virginia after the war to make it big in coal. On the day of the explosion, Gideon could have gone up the elevator first when they realized they needed to escape the mine, but it wasn’t his way. 

Gideon was an honorable man who always put other people first. It was why he won the Medal of Honor near Binarville in France. He drew fire so that his men could gain cover, then exposed himself again to get within grenade range of an MG8. And, with his stellar arm, he dropped the explosive right in the gunner’s lap.  

Pawpaw told Daniel how Gideon was wrecked by the death of Silas, his firstborn, but was able to find hope again with God and Sara, Pawpaw’s mother. 

“Pawpaw,” Daniel said, “Where did your Pop, Gideon, come from. Was he born in West Virginia?” 

“He grew up outside Boston, a place called Cambridge. He went to the University of Boston, then to war, and after he moved here.” Pawpaw responded. 

“Why don’t we talk to cousins from Boston? Did you ever see aunts and uncles from up there? And what about your mom, Sara? Was her family from Cambridge, too?” Daniel asked.

“My mom grew up near Cambridge in a town called Lexington. You might remember that from your history classes, the Battle of Lexington and Concord?” Pawpaw asked.

Daniel nodded yes, then asked, “But what about her family?”

Pawpaw took a deep breath, “I always wondered that myself, but Ma never talked about that. All I know is it was a painful experience for her. We never talked about her family or coal.”

“Did you ever meet any of your dad’s brothers, sisters…your grandparents?” Daniel asked, realizing how he was lucky he had both his parents, three grandparents, aunts, uncles, and more cousins than he knew what to do with.

“When my Pop died in the mine, his brothers Samuel and Benjamin, and his dad, Abraham, came to pay their respects. I remember them being very sad, distraught even. I think they figured he was going to come back to Boston at some point. I also remember them trying to give my Ma money and she refused. Boy, I couldn’t believe she did it at the time. Later, found it was because of the insurance policy my Pop had taken out.” Pawpaw reminisced before adding, “And, apparently Pop was pretty keen on no handouts.”

Pawpaw continued, “Before they left..and I’ll never forget it because at that moment I felt like well if all else fails, we’re safe…Abraham said, ‘We’re family. If you, your children, your children’s children…if anyone needs anything, we’re here to help you. Money, jobs, or to be near family, we’re here if you need us.'”

“And did you ever need them?” Daniel asked.

“Nope. We made it through the Great Depression just fine. Pop’s policy took care of everything we needed, even college for me, your Grand Aunt Louisa, and Grand Uncle Thomas,” Pawpaw answered.

“Did you ever see them again?” Daniel asked.

“Nope. I think they sent cards, but that was it. And, it was fine. Our church was our family. Anything that would have been taught by Pop or a grandparent, aunt, or uncle was taught by them. Plus, looking back at it, I don’t think Abraham, Samuel, or Benjamin would have had the best advice on how to bring down a buck. Thank you Pastor Jeb!” Pawpaw recalled with a colossal smile, shaking his head back and forth as he remembered his first. 

“Who’s Pastor Jeb?” Daniel asked.

“The man from the church who taught me how to bring down a buck. And his wife Mary taught me how to field dress one,” Pawpaw answered. 

“Speaking of which, I think this is the year you’ll be coming out with me for deer hunting season!” Pawpaw said, slapping Daniel on the back.  

Daniel had never been enthusiastic about hunting. He put on a good face when they trapped or hunted turkey, rabbit, or fowl. Deer were a whole other level, though. He had nightmares about those big dark eyes looking into his soul. Daniel had managed to excuse himself out of the last three trips. “Looking forward to it,” he said with a modicum of enthusiasm. 

Pawpaw looked him over and said, “Look, I know it’s a little intimidating, but it’s more than just shooting animals. You know that, right?” 

He continued, “Your Enisi, bless her soul, enlightened me on the process. I learned to kill for food. She taught me more about the balance of it all. When we go on these trips, nothing goes to waste. Seeing it all makes you have an appreciation for life that, outside of war, is hard to get.”  

Daniel nodded and gave his Pawpaw a smile. He didn’t want to, but he believed Pawpaw. 

After an hour of talking about the pictures on the walls, Pawpaw said, “You know, you’ll hear more stories on the hunting trips from the uncles. But if you want the juicy stories, you should see your aunties.” 

He continued, “Go get yourself a snack from the kitchen. You know how your aunties like to congregate there. Stay for about two minutes in the background, then ask them a simple question about whatever they’re talking about. When they finish answering that question, say, ‘I overheard someone say something about Johnnie. Is he okay?’ That’ll set them off for a good hour or two. You’ll hear everything. It happens every Christmas. It always starts with Johnnie,” Pawpaw said with a wink.  

Daniel did as he was told. Usually, by 8 p.m. on Christmas Eve, Daniel and his sister would be asking to go home every twenty minutes. This year Daniel couldn’t pull himself away from the salacious stories his aunties had to share. When April came to solicit Daniel’s help in leaving, she found herself sinking into a seat right next to Daniel. The two swore for every family event moving forward, they would spend time with the aunties.  

They told stories of fame and fortune, death and loss, with a bit of embellishment for entertainment’s sake, but based on truth. It was eleven o’clock when Aunt Viv finished a story about a second cousin, Juno, who hooked up with none other than Johnie, and how they almost got arrested. Then Aunt Viv said, “So, it appears we’ve come full circle,” taking her cig out of her mouth so she could take another sip of whiskey. “This has been a treat, having you with us, Pasternaks. But, what brought you to us today?” 

Daniel didn’t want to say it was because Pawpaw basically told him they had all the good gossip and stories. He also didn’t want to say because he wanted to “know where he comes from.” So he said, “It’s important to spend time with family,” which he felt good about because it wasn’t a lie. But he knew he’d have to say more if he stayed around. Looking down at his watch, he said, “Wow, look at the time. April, I bet Mom and Dad are ready to go.”

Daniel and April went around the table and the room giving hugs and kisses. The goodbye procedure at full family gatherings took at least a half-hour most of the time. Because it was later and nearly everyone was two or three drinks in, it took only fifteen minutes this Christmas Eve. 

“What do you think, April?” Daniel asked his sister on the way to the car. “Should we do that every Christmas Eve instead of hanging out with the cousins?”

“Absolutely,” she said, “Our family is crazy—scandals, schemes, poor luck, people getting caught with a general’s daughter…whatever that means. Going to marches and getting arrested. I had no idea that much had happened. I love it!”  

Then Daniel said, “Next Christmas, you should talk to Pawpaw too. I think what he said was even better than the aunties.” April nodded as a yawn took over.  

Gary and June, Daniel and April’s parents, spilled out of the garage, bouncing off cars as they walked down the driveway. June stumbled but was able to regain her balance, avoiding a roll down the steep driveway to their Plymouth Satellite. Gary shuffled to the car door, took the keys out of his pocket, and thumbed through them a few times before arriving at the right one. June opened her door and plopped in, giggling with a few hiccups. As Gary slid into his seat, June turned to the kids and asked, “Did you two have a nice,” hiccup, “a nice time?”

“Yes, mom,” they both answered. Daniel didn’t like it when they drank as much as they did at these things and then drive home. It seemed like it was even more than normal tonight. Daniel thought maybe it was because his Dad had to work the last couple of holidays, being a state trooper. The last time his parents drove home like this, they almost went off the road and into the side of a mountain. But at the same time, it wasn’t as if they were the only ones. Everyone seemed to do it. It’s like they’d get into their cars and treat them like tanks heading back to base after a battle. Even state troopers. 

“Hey Dad, you think I could practice driving tonight?” Daniel asked.  

“Sure. June, honey, do you mind sitting in the back with April?” Gary asked.

Thank goodness, Daniel thought. He jumped out of the back seat and into the driver’s seat. His dad slid across the front seat to sit on the passenger side. 

“Don’t forget the parking brake,” Gary said, slumping into the nook between the seat and the car door. 

“Yes, sir,” Daniel responded as he checked the mirrors and slowly pulled away.

It wasn’t more than a minute into the drive both his parents were asleep. It was for the best, he thought. They were too far gone to be able to tell where they were going anyway. 

When they got home, April went right to her room. Daniel helped get his giggly parents to bed. Luckily, they had placed all the presents under the tree before they left. The only things missing were the Santa presents. As Daniel and April got older, the Santa presents became fewer in number but were always special and a treat. 

Daniel knew how disappointed April would be if there weren’t any under the tree because Mom and Dad were too drunk to remember to put them out. He went to the secret spot where they were stashed, the spot the naturally curious young lad had found years earlier. He placed the two presents for him and his sister under the tree. 

Daniel stepped back from the tree and admired the spectacle that it was. One could say their tree was tacky, but each and every bit of it had a special meaning. Every ornament, whether handcrafted or purchased, had significance. The painted shell from the first and only time they had gone to see the Atlantic Ocean. Decorated pinecones from different parks they had been to. Ornaments Enisi’s sisters had sent to them when they were little of the family’s animal totems. Baby’s first Christmas ornaments. The bubble lights were a somewhat new addition and would be absent if not for the persistent begging, years of begging, by April to add them to the tree.  

Then there was the tinsel. June insisted on having the tinsel, which Daniel always suspected was because Pawpaw insisted on tinsel too. Pawpaw would say his mom said, “You know you’ve done well if you have tinsel on your tree.” Daniel wasn’t so sure that was a good gauge, but it did make the tree sparkle. 

Daniel felt so blessed to have the life he had. Having learned what he had from Pawpaw about their family made Daniel look at himself differently. God and Jesus were a huge part of his life. Religion guided nearly everything he did, but it wasn’t who he was. Before that Christmas Eve, if asked about his family, he would also have said he was a part of a close, tight-knit family. Now, his perspective was entirely different. Knowing their foundation, he felt like he knew more about who he was. 

His family wasn’t wealthy, but they didn’t want for anything. His family was rich in life experience. They weren’t perfect in how they lived, but they lived with purpose and with love in their hearts. They were a family who lived in service and sacrifice. Daniel felt so proud and blessed to be a part of this family, and he promised himself that night he would live to help and serve others and would always have love in his heart. 

“Merry Christmas,” Daniel whispered aloud as he bent behind the tree and pulled the plugs.