Reaper's Lullaby

Gus: Grief

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."
-C. S. Lewis

The first few weeks at the ranch were relatively easy for Gus. He slept a lot of the time, ate like he'd never seen food before and hung out with a few of the other guys, forming fast friendships. He gained up to a healthy weight and lost his gaunt, skeletal look.

The ranch was open and vast, the air clean and cold. His new surroundings were nothing like the stench of Skid Row or the claustrophobic city. Gus particularly enjoyed being outside in the mornings with the cows and horses. He had always loved animals, but being so close to these gentle giants made him feel safe and protected. Sometimes he sat in the barn for a long time and just stared into their eyes and talked to them, his cheek pressed to their soft noses.

All of the animals at the ranch had been rescued from abuse, so Gus felt like he could relate to them and understand them in some way. Likewise, the animals warmed up to him quickly. They were skittish around most of the other residents but not him. Within days, they crept up to him first when everyone was out in the fields.

"Animals always like me," Gus told one of the residents who commented on their behavior.

"Why?" asked the girl, who had wide eyes and brown hair that was short and blunt. The cut suggested she'd done it herself.

"I don't know. They just do. I always make friend with animals. Even rats," Gus said, only half joking.

"Did you know animals are psychic?" the girl asked mystically.

"No."

"Well they are. If they like you, it's a good sign. It means you're a good person. They sense it."

Gus wasn't sure that was true, but he was grateful for the company of the animals.

Then around week four, something shifted. The easy days were gone. Gus felt it the way he'd felt the storm approaching on Skid Row that time. It was darkness.

For the first time in his life, he knew what people talked about when they described it depression. He had always been able to pull himself out of the slumps with drugs, sex or even drawing. Now he had no desire or energy to draw, and the other two distractions were beyond his reach.

After breakfast each morning he felt the intense need to go back to sleep. Whereas before he'd enjoyed the required chores, he now dreaded even taking the steps to get there. Everything felt like a monumental task for which he had to expend huge amounts of energy. Even things like showering or brushing his teeth or tying his shoelaces. After doing just one of them, he was completely exhausted.

Gus was used to running a hundred miles an hour on an endless supply of energy, mania and tweak. Now he didn't even feel alive. His nightmares were back with vengeance, and he'd even "snapped up" inside the closet a couple of times to a staff member shaking him, worried and confused.

"What's wrong? You were screaming!" they would say.

"Everything's wrong," Gus would reply, but in truth he really didn't know what was.

This morning he was supposed to be feeding the animals in the barn but had instead sat down on a barrel next to a horse named Mandy. He was leaning his head against her warm, sturdy body when Jeff found him.