Fear

A tale by Davison Stivers

My name's McCabe. Not so long back, I witnessed a car spinnin' out o' control and crashin'. As I watched, I was aware of my heart beatin' faster and feelin' mighty concerned for that driver and any passengers. Turns out there was only the driver and he was OK, just numb after after I got him out. Car had some dents it hadn't before, but he was OK. Well, it got me to rememberin' th' times I'd a been scared. And that slipped my recall to the time I went on a trip with Woody.

Now Woody was a fine ol' gentleman, one o' them fellers that did a lot of hikin' and campin' especially out in the desert. I got to know him when he was already late in age. His name 'Woody' fit him right: His skin was like th' bark on an old redwood, dark and crinkley, his eyes were shaded by bushy eyebrows, an' his white beard was like scrub.

This one day we hiked out on the desert, been wakin' for some three or four hours, not talkin' much, when I stop to lake a leak. It was my good fortune I did, for 'bout five minutes later as we hiked on, he holds up and raises his hands to stop me. I looked up to see what was up. He indicated I remain silent. I did. He slowly pointed and not two feet in front of where I stood, I suddenly saw the brown an' black coiled shape of the biggest rattler I'd ever seen. My heart leapt wildly an' I froze an' my fear-mometer, ya got that, my fear-mometer, shot up like a rocket. Then it was that those rattles began, I'd a thought that I was an awfully big target for those mighty big fangs. It reared its head an' I was sure it was goin' ta strike. But then Woody said as calmly an' smoothly as could be, "Peace, brother. We mean ya no harm. Forgive my friend, here. He's never seen such a beauty as you. He didn't mean ta hit ya like that, but he was surprised at seeing someone so magnificent as you." On he talked in that soothin' tone an' soon that snake just settled down, but keepin' his eyes focused on me. Gradually, it uncoiled and then slid away until I could no longer track it. It was only then that I was aware that I wasn't breathin' an' realizin' that it was certain that I would 'a wet my britches had I not relieved myself just before.

Woody just watched me and when I could move again, I began to shake all over. He just smiled an' says, "Mighty frightenin'. He sure was a big one. Can't say he much like you."

I sat down on a boulder, wiped my forehead which was oozin' rain by this time. "Can't say I much like him, either. My god, if he'd struck at me, i'd a been dead by now. I never came closer to joinin' my grandfathers than this!"

Woody sat down beside me. "Yup. He was ready to hit back, all right."

"Hit back? What you talkin' about? I never did nothin' to him, let alone hit him."

"Oh, but you did, McCabe," he replied. "You hit him with your fear. Animals out here in the wilderness feel the fear we humans wear. Most animals attack only when they are hungry. But they will also respond to the fear we carry." He stood up and looked about. "McCabe, its like our fear is a stick which we hit them with. Did ya notice it looked only at you? Didn't even seem to notice me."

"Yeah, that's right, now that ya mention it. It only seemed to be aimin' at me. You sayin' that you weren't scared?"

"Nope. But then he wasn't lookin' at me, either." He smiled as he glanced over at me still sittin' an' still shaken. "But I was lookin' at him. What I noticed was his magnificence. Didja ever see such a beautiful creature? When he crawled off he looked to be 'bout twelve, maybe thirteen, feet long. Usually don't see 'em that big round here. Well, you done shakin' enough to move on? We've still got 'nother several miles to camp."

"Yeah, I think so," I says as I get up. Truth was my legs still felt a little wobbley, but I didn't want to stay around there just in case a brother snake came climbin' up close.

As we walked I thought a lot 'bout this thing, fear. I was so engrossed in my ponderin' that before I knew it, we had reached out camp site. We set out our gear and I gazed over the desert floor. I hadn't realized it before, but we musta been goin' on an upcline while we walked. And here we were lookin' over the silence, nothin' moved below us, like we were the only live things in this place. But I knew better. That big snake was down there somewhere.

Woody stirred up a fire and got to fixin' up some food an' coffee for us. The smoke, coffee, and cookin' stew made my mouth water plenty. It made me suddenly aware that we hadn't eatin' anything since breakfast, except some jerky round lunch time. But I was hungry now and soon we filled our plates, sat on the ground and ate.

After eatin', I cleaned up our plates and stuff. I sat back beside Woody who was just lookin' out over the desert. The sun was down now and a small warm breeze moved passed us. The stars were comin' to life. The more they came on, the more close they seemed. This, I knew was what Woody liked so much about comin' out here. This night time show. This was what I liked about bein' here with him. We just sat there gazin' out an up, not sayin' nothin'. Keepin' with our private thoughts. Mine was on that fear I had. Was it really like a club that I hit others with?

We were silent a long time before either of us spoke and Woody eased from the silence first as though he were aware of my thoughts. "Ya know, McCabe, I use ta be 'fraid a lot in my early life. An' not just of being hurt or killed, but of bein' seen, really seen. I didn't want people to see me. I wanted to stay hidden. But one day I came face-t'-face with fear, my fear. It was WWII, an we had landed on the beach, shells explodin' all around us. Men were shootin' and gettin' shot. Men were killin' and gettin' killed. A buddy o' mine and I were ordered to advance up the beach an' take out a machine gun emplacement. We crawled on our bellies to where we might lob a couple of grenades. Well, my friend took out his grenade, pulled out its pin, raised up a bit to throw it an' just after he let it loose, three bullets ripped into him an' he fell back. I couldn't move, seein' all that blood spurting out from his chest. But he looked up at me and whispered, 'Did I get 'em?' 'Yeah,' I said, 'ya gottem good.' He closed his eyes and smiled. 'Woody, you get the next one, OK?'

"Somethin' happened to me then, I got damn mad. I looked over at the machine gun and it was still firin' down at the beach. I took my own grenade, pulled the pin, stood up so's that I could get a longer toss. I watched it sail so easily through the air an' it looked like everything was moving in slow motion all around me. I looked over at the men working the machine gun an' saw them begin to turn it toward me. But my grenade got there first. I bent down and lifted my buddy up and carried him back down the beach to a corpsman. My friend died, but he still had that smile on his face."

Woody wiped a tear with the back of his hand, got up and moved to the fire to stir it up. I felt embarrassaed seein' his tears, so I watched the sparks fly into the night sky as though they were takin' prayers up to the heavens. Then he came back and continued.

"I sat with my friend for some time, thinkin' about him, my fear and what each of us had just done. I had been scared nearly out of my mind, as I was sure he was. But we had both done somethin' in spite of that fear. That fear did not stop him and it didn't stop me from doin' what I needed to do. I felt stronger for that fear as though I had attained some inner place where fear was not a block. I suspected that he also found a similar place in him."

I shifted my position and stretched. "I wished I had been able to not be afraid this afternoon. But that rattler startled me and when I really looked at it, man, my scare really took off. I was parallized by my fear. How did you not let your fear govern you?"

"My way through my fear was getting more angry than scared. But what you did today was the best action you could do. Snakes are sensitive to motion, so by remaining so still, you lessened the chance of being bitten. In this case your generalized fear prompted the snake to defend itself, but your fear also aided you by stopping you from moving."

"Hmm, maybe." I got up and got myself a cup of coffee. I returned an' sat back down. "Woody, I been doin' a lot of thinkin' 'bout fear ever since our encounter with Mr Rattler. I hear that somehow you gained some understandin' of fear from your experience, but I'm still not understandin' much right now."

"McCabe, I think you understand much more than you give yourself credit for, includin' knowin' 'bout fear. But maybe I can help if I explain what I've come to know for myself. I have come to see three fears, or aspects of fear. The most obvious is when we experience somethin' that is threatening to our bodies or lives - or to those of a friend or loved one, like when my friend was killed. The second is where we have an awareness of some danger which we can not see, like an intuition or sense. I can remember once when I was drivin' down the Hollywood Freeway in Los Angeles. It was daybreak and there weren't many cars on the road and none close to me. I was in the fast lane when I get an unfortable sense, a sense of somethin' was wrong or about to go wrong, a sense of some danger. There was nothing I could see that would prompt this feelin', but there it was. So I moved over to the adjoining lane and no sooner had I made this move that another car came out of the dark and passed me. He must 'a been going thirty mile an hour faster 'n me. Then my feelin' of danger left. I am sure that had I stayed in that lane he would have crashed into me.

"Wow, that's amazin', but I know what you mean. I've had those kinds of feelin's myself, some of which I acted on and some I didn't. And I, more than not, wished I had acted."

Woody nodded and stood, stretching. He looked up at the night display, then turned back to me. "The third form of fear is fully self generated by holding an expectation of a dire experience. The first two can prompt us to take an appropriate action, like your standing still. The second is a warning, which many of us ignore, to our detriment, like my experience on the freeway and what you have seen. But the third is a call for us to change."

I looked over at him in surprise, "A call to change?"

He smiled and nodded, "Think, McCabe, if I have a fear of some future event, it will come about or it won't. If I can do something to affect that outcome, I have the choice to act or not. If there is nothing I can do to change the outcome, I can still chose to meet the event with a changed attitude. In each of these cases, fear is an awakening for me to change what I have been doing, or thinking, or feeling. It is not a hindrance to my life, but an asset. I've come to see fear as my friend. It shows me where I can grow."

With that Woody walked over to and got in his sleeping bag. "Good night, McCabe."