Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

Michael Busby
michael_busby at yahoo dot com Author: Solving The 1897 Airship Mystery Available at www.amazon.com

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

La rponse pas enfonce le vent mais, savoir ceci sans doute : il est crit sur le tableau de temps avec le sang et de dchirures de nos enfants.
(The answer is not blowing in the wind but know this without doubt: it is written upon the tableau of time with the blood and tears of our children.)

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

Dedication
Betty Jean Atteberry 1942 1958 (The days of long ago arelong gone. We are only given a time to live, a place to be born, and a place to die.)

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Authors note: From the river hills of north Texas; to the Plain of Jars; to the Kavir-e-Lut, the Rub' al Khali; from the steppes of Central Asia; to the jungles of Africa; from the mountains of Kazakhstan; to the shores of America. Follow a small boy who learns life's tough lessons as he grows up to become a CIA contract employee, a world traveler, a loving father and friend whose tragic story will touch your heart. He found love in the noise, mud, and blood of war and lost hope in the hushed tranquility of peace. Based on the true story of a young man who escaped assassination in the summer of 1978, execution 4 November 1979 and who gave the U.S. government Osama Bin Laden and Al Queda in 1992. Thank you for your helpful review and comments. And now I give youSAAWARIYA.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Table of Contents

Foreword......................................................................................................................... 5 Prologue ....................................................................................................................... 10 Book 1 Le Systme se Dbrouiller................................................................................ 15 Chapter 1 Monkey Basterd ........................................................................................... 15 Chapter 2 Killing The Competition ................................................................................ 22 Chapter 3 Raining Pork................................................................................................. 27 Chapter 4 Billie Jean..................................................................................................... 44 Chapter 5 Joes Graduation .......................................................................................... 97 Chapter 6 Killing Cats ................................................................................................. 129 Chapter 7 A Stone For Spud....................................................................................... 147 Chapter 8 Wish Me A Rainbow ................................................................................... 153 Chapter 9 Twinkle Star ............................................................................................... 171 Chapter 10 Leaving..................................................................................................... 181 Book 2 Ein Bichen Frieden ....................................................................................... 198 Chapter 1 Dixie's Corner............................................................................................. 198 Chapter 2 Finding Peace ............................................................................................ 201 Book 3 Der Kapitn und Die Knige Haben Niemandsland Gemacht......................... 206 Chapter A Marine For Mary ....................................................................................... 206 Chapter Infantry Training ............................................................................................ 221 Epilogue...................................................................................................................... 222

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Foreword
Radmila was waiting for me as I entered Almatys International Airport terminal. With layovers in London and Moscow, it was a long trip from the United States to Almaty. Although I was tired, I was very pleased to see her waving through the window beyond the security barriers as I negotiated the Immigration and Customs counters. As soon as I walked past the last security checkpoint, I could see she was wearing the Gucci mini-skirt with the matching Gucci blouse I bought her the last time we were together. Although my fortune was not sufficient to buy every woman I met a $3,000 ensemble, I had to admit Gucci never looked so good. She took my breath away. As I passed the last security barrier, Radmila rushed into my arms.

Oh, Spud! I missed you so much.

I felt my throat constrict as I tried to tell her I missed her, also. All I could manage at the moment was to just nod my head and try to keep the tears from falling upon her shiny black hair. We clung to each other for long moments, both savoring the mood too much to separate. Finally, we were able to lessen our grip and begin the walk toward the exit with Radmila comfortably snuggled in my left arm.

How was your trip? she asked as we reached the curb where a taxi was waiting..

It was okay. Tiring, you know. I brought a bottle of hydrocodone tabs so I could sleep as much as possible.

The wounds still hurt even after the surgery?

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Yea, but not as much as before. Better now, except when I am flying and have to sit for hours in those uncomfortable seats on the plane and in the waiting rooms. Those six and eight hour waits between the 12 hour flights are hard on the body.

My poor Twinkle Star. I am going to make certain it was a worthwhile trip, she salaciously murmered as she snuggled even closer in the back seat of the taxi.

The warmth from her body was pleasant. The endomorphins were rushing around the brain, looking for any available receptor even remotely interested in satiation. They made my head spin with pleasure as receptor after receptor fell to her charming allure. From the airport we caught a cab to the apartment Radmila had rented for the two weeks we would be in Almaty. Fortunately, this apartment building had an elevator. The last time she rented an apartment for our tryst the building did not have a lift and I had to carry bags up eight floors. The daily effort to climb the stairs had consumed most of the hydrocodone tablets I brought with me then. Within twenty minutes of entering the room I had showered, brushed my teeth, found a comfortable spot in the bed and was sound asleep. Radmila lay beside me, gently twirling my hair with her index finger. She knew that was more effective than a sleeping pill for me. We woke the next morning to a beautiful day.

Hey, what do you wanna do today? I asked Radmila.

I thought we would find a driver this morning who will drive us for the next two weeks, then I would like to go to the national Kazakhstan musem since it is just a couple of blocks from here. I figured you would still be tired from the trip so I wanted to keep the day simple. After we go to the musem I want to go to the supermarket and pick up some things for us to eat when we are in the apartment.

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Thats about it for the day. I dont want to wear you out until tonight, she said in a naughty manner.

Sounds good to me. I licked my lips as I thought of the evenings entertainment. I was not going to miss an afternoon nap to ensure I was fit for a long night of cohabitation and all that word entails and even a few things it does not entail.

We found a driver for hire in the central market area. Coming from America, I just could not get over the fact that in Almaty we could hire a driver with his late-model sedan for 24 hour service, petrol included, for a flat rate of $50 per day. Amazing. A taxi ride taking all of 45 minutes from the airport to my home in Texas cost $125.

Where to, Miss Radmila? he asked as we got into his car. He spoke English in dererence to me, instead of Kazakh, the national language.

You know the national musem? she asked.

Certainly, I know where the museum is. he proudly answered.

Great. That is where we would like to go.

Radmila and I entered the Central State Museum of the Republic of Kazakhstan. The imposing museum, located in the Samal district of Almaty, is a beautiful, white marble building with blue glass arches and domes. The museum houses collections from the various Jz tribes that have inhabited through the ages the steppes and taigas of Eastern Europe, from the Caspian Sea to the mountains of Central Asia. An especially interesting exhibit tried to capture the moment when humans first caught and tamed the wild horse, a feat first accomplished on the steppes of Kazakhstan. As we slowly wandered around the

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved spacious museum, Radmila was excited to see the museum had a replica of a village from the great Kahn dynasty.

Look Spud, this is a village from my tribe, she gleefully exclaimed while pointing to a collection of fur-covered huts. Standing outside the doors to several of the huts were very impressive looking horses made of plastic and real horsehair.

To me, it seemed little different from the other village exhibits. What tribe are you from? I asked.

Radmila stood even taller as she proudly answered, Adai.

Adai. She rides the wind-swept, barren steppes of Asia on a strong horse, both horse and woman descended from the savage conquerors of Europe; the horse bred from the sturdy stock of Karashahr, along the north edge of Takla Makan desert; and the woman bred from the stock of Adai, Genghis Khan's eldest son. The Karashahr horses were long prized throughout Asia and China. Karashahr horses were the standard mount of Mongolian cavalry, the cavalry who swept through Europe, pillaging and destroying, spreading fear and death, conquering all in their relentless march to the sea. Later, Karashahr horses were regularly sent as tribute to the imperial court at Peking; Chinese cavalry were proudly mounted upon them. These were strong animals, thirteen or fourteen hands high, with powerful chests and necks, large hook-nosed heads and sturdy, heavily muscled legs; they had a very fast gait and could endure the rigors of steppe travel for days at a time with little maintenance. They were specially bred to carry the fiercest warriors the world has ever seen into battle. The proud Adai women, riding Karashahr horses, were prized as mounted archers in the army of Khan, and Khan's successors. For hundreds of years, they

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved were glorified as the greatest mounted archers in all Europe and Asia. And for this glory, they paid a price few today can imagine and none will replicate. The destination of my love is no longer a desert rose, but a fiercely independent descendant of Khan; the greatest Khan, Genghis Khan. She is descended from the eldest son of Genghis Khan, known as the Adai. She is descended from a tribe of fierce female warriors, women who voluntarily burned their right breast off at puberty, to become Europe's greatest archers. She is Adai. She is woman. She is not a delicate desert rose, but a wild, untamed mare, bred upon the cold, barren wind-swept steppes of Asia; bred to run, bred to fight, bred to carry the battle to the enemy, bred to kill, bred to conquer. She is descended from a proud tribe of women, women who would slay the men they slept with the following morning. What do men say of such women? Look around....what men are left alive to offer an opinion? What more can I say, except her words were pleasant to my ear, loosening the flotsam and jetsam in the river of love; the sound of love's river passing from her heart to mine; from my heart to her heart; the sound resonating with an idyllic rhythm, the ecstatic dance of the ages, a song for the spirit, and music to my soul as she lay in my arms. I will certainly live the moment. Will I survive the moment? Will I live the day after? Will I survive her love? What is the sense of such questioning when first, ask if I care. My answer is not "blowing in the wind," as the lyrics of a famous rock and roll song once popularized, but it is written with the crimson blood and heart-felt tears of my children upon the tablet of time. That is the power of love. And so Kcenya, begins the story I have to tell you.

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Prologue
In Saudi Arabia, the relentless summer sun beats upon the shimmering sand dunes towering large over the hard-pan flatlands of the Rub Al-Khali with an unimaginable, skull-cracking, brain-bursting intensity for a mercilessly 16 hours a day. In terms of climate, the Saudi summer is ten seemingly never-ending months living three inches from hell. Summer takes a vacation the remaining two months of the year giving the Bedouin a short respite. Sometimes, if conditions are favorable, the glistening, translucent sand, composed primarily of quartz particles, will react to the ferocity of the burning summer heat by clumping together and gradually melting to form a fragile, crystalline structure of unsurpassed complexity and beauty. The clumping and crystallizing process occurs over many years, hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. Desert roses, as these rare crystal creations are called by the Saudis, are extremely difficult to find. One may walk the desert sand dunes over a lifetime and never glimpse a single one as the modest roses play hide and seek through the veil of shifting sand, with its ever-changing tides, moved not by the motion of the earth and moon, but drifting and blowing at the whim of a hot wind, the Devils Breath, as the ageless Bedouin call the scorching breeze. Uncaring boors who stumble upon a find and knowing its value, will quickly snatch the valuable gem then rush off to the nearest souk and sell their desert rose, while the uninformed will part with their precious gem but for a pittance, or a kind word. However, those informed individuals possessing a desert rose who cherish a creation of beauty and rarity will cling to the prized possession, and will part with it only under the most strenuous forms of duress. But those wise men traveling the ocean of sand who understand the real value of a desert rose will pass on by, leaving the beautiful rose for others less informed to plunderand reap the reward. You see, the Bedouin believe the desert roses are of great spiritual value. The Bedouin believe the precious desert roses are a magnificent gift from Allah and a sign of His love for all humanity. The Bedouin also believe if you pluck a

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved desert rose from the sands it will forever change your life. You will be blessed with great, good fortune for as long as you most carefully handle and care for the precious creation and give it the attention and affection an object of rare beauty deserves, and never let any harm come to the precious crystal. But, let just one minute fragment of crystalline selenite become damaged even a tiny amount and, as your desert rose is no longer perfect, neither will your fortune be or, neglect the rose, do not give it the attention and love it demands and deserves, and so too will your fortune be neglected. Many Bedouin believe the strenuous demands imposed upon one possessing a desert rose far outweigh the benefit one receives from it. You see, while of great and rare beauty, they are also the most fragile of all Gods creation and cannot suffer even the slightest mishandling. And so the knowing Bedouin will not pluck the beautiful rose as it modestly plays its game of hide and seek in the ever-shifting sands of Arabia, but leave it for fools. I eagerly plucked my desert rose from the burning sands of the Rub Al-Khali in the summer of 1980. _____________________________________

Of course, she was right about love. Love knows no boundaries; boundaries made by men; or women; or boundaries made by countries. Love is invisible and indivisible. Like a river, love has a source, and it has a destination. Love flows like a river between the source and destination, between two people and it flows regardless of their physical location relative to each other. Its flow is inexorable, like the forward advance of the glacier, pushing all aside in its inevitable movement. There is no physical obstacle that can stop it. Like a glacier or river, love is inexorable, passing by the ever-changing landscape, ignoring the lesser constituents within its component parts, relentlessly pushing everything aside, while still carrying the debris of lesser encounters in its unremitting desire to wash upon the shores of its destination. And the affect of its arrival at its destination is the electric current, ebbing and flowing, like the dance of the hours, upon the tidal basins of our lives bringing

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved fresh nutrients to our spirit and helping to remove the flotsam and jetsam of those previous encounters as the ebb tide flows in the face of the new current. Now, time passes and the rose, the beautiful rose that once was without defect, or fault, is no longer perfect. A fool plucked the rose from its eternal repose upon the burning sands of Arabia. And in so doing the fool incurred a cost far beyond his ability to pay. But, the river continues to flow; now deep below the surface, even when the sounds of silence are upon the still heart, and the hot winds blow across the Rub Al-Khali removing any trace the fool was ever there. Words are inadequate to express the full magnitude of emotions one suddenly possesses when Cupid's arrow pierces the heart. Words and deeds are but part of the flotsam and jetsam swirling in the electric eddy currents in the river of love. Only the passing of time, like the passing of the river's currents which rips the banks it crashes against bare, can reveal the full magnitude of the power behind the force of love. I neglected my desert rose, and so too did an unforgiving God neglect my fortune. Perhaps, one day my children will forgive me for being a fool but, considering the price they have paid, it does not seem likely. _____________________________________

I stood motionless, hand outstretched to receive the two pieces of official looking paper.

It is a pleasure serving men like you, the fat-faced, smelly Divorce Papers Process Server with alcoholic eyes stated matter-of-factly as he thrust out the sheets of folded, official-looking paper.

Looking the man over, I thought, Even the dull and ignorant, they too have their story. Unfortunately, his story was heartache and misery; he held it in the form of court orders in his hand, trying to get me to accept them.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved I was standing in the garage speaking with Thumps when the man walked up to the open garage door and asked if I was Spud. Of course, I said I was. There was no reason for me to deny who I was. To say it was a surprise to be served while standing in the garage discussing with Thumps the missing trailer is a great understatement. I was shocked beyond registration. But I was in for a greater shock. The dim-witted Divorce Server curtly told me the papers included a restraining order. I had to leave the premises immediately and the cop parked down the alley a short distance was there to see that I left peacefully, and immediately, without taking anything. Before anger could well up, the Divorce Server, having completed his mission of wrecking a family and insulting a father in front of his son, turned and scuttled back around the corner, out of sight, just like a cockroach in the night caught in the naked light, his duty done. As the moments passed, I stood there, the shock gradually giving way to anger. I furiously thought, Men like me? It is a pleasure serving men like me? What do you know about me? You never met me in your life until this very moment and then you came sneaking onto my property like a thief. A pleasure serving men like me? You dont have a clue who I am or what I am like, you torpid bastard. The restraining order matter-of-factly stated I had to leave the premises as soon as I received the notification. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the police cruiser creeping slowly down the alley, toward the garage. As I turned to walk away, my mind kept asking, What did I do to deserve this kind of treatment, especially in front of my son? I served my country honorably and I served my family honorably. I loved my wife and children with all my heart, giving them everything I had to give, including the best years of my life. I always remained faithful and loyal to both country and family. What more can a father and husband give his family than everything he was and had, including his health? I was so dispirited I could not even look my son in the eyes and say goodbye. Anyway, I hated saying goodbye. Saying goodbye meant loss and the loss I suffered many years ago was still too painful. The poignant memory of Billie Jean

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved could still stab me in the heart like a cold ice pick and sometimes, if no one was around, the memory could make the tears flow like a river of sorrow, drowning me in the intense grief I felt, even after all these years. I wanted to say something to my beloved wife whom I loved beyond the ability of words to describe. I wanted to tell her I loved her very much, with all my heart and soul, even with my life. I wanted to take her in my arms and whisper sweet words of affection. I wanted to tell her we would be together in love from this time until the end of time. But, time was passed when such words would be meaningful, anymore. She long ago decided to travel a different path. She may continue to live a life of leisure and happiness after stealing the money, but she should know this without doubt: children pay for the sins of their parents. Our children will pay for her sins. I know this because all my life I have paid for the sins of my parents. We know what she gained when she betrayed me and sinned by sleeping with my rich father, thereby gaining his fortune. Now, let me tell you what she lost.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

Book 1 Le Systme se Dbrouiller

Chapter 1 Monkey Basterd

Im gonna kill ya! Ya litle basterd, Frank drunkenly screamed.

Spud did not doubt for one second Frank was as good as his word.

A bestial step-father rudely horned his way into Spuds young life one very inauspicious day. Frank was a mean, drunk, abusive stepfather who hated his step-children. But, his step-children were no exception. He hated everyone he came into contact with. It was unknown who he hated the most, for hate was the only emotion he ever exhibited. A vile six foot Frank brought unwanted hate with him wherever he ventured. Prior to the ill-fated day Frank started dating his mother, Spud had never known hate. It was to become the worst of times. Spuds father abandoned his children the year Spud was born. Spud could honestly say he never knew a fathers love but, this fact did not make him hate anything, or anyone, nor did it make anyone hate Spud. Spud wondered at times what a life with a loving father would be like but, at such a young age he was quick to forgive, forget, then go feed the livestock. Nope, he never knew hate until Frank entered his tender, young life. While Frank was dating his mother, he made a half-hearted attempt to hide his true nature from his future wife and step-children. But there were times when he lost what little control he could muster over his emotions and his behavior reverted to its true self. When those yelling, hitting, brawling, crying times were upon the family, havoc reigned supreme; life in purgatory at a tender age for a small boy who only wanted to be a good kid, occasionally get a pat on

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved the head, have some fun, and learn as much as he could. Spud was a sponge and loved to learn, curious about everything he saw. During one of those crying times, a drunk Frank shot at Spud with a 30-30 caliber rifle. Spud was playing in the sandy driveway under the old cedar tree just in front of the ranch house. Since vehicles parked there, the sandy loam soil was very loose and made a natural sandbox for a small boy to play in. One day, Frank came speeding up to the house, narrowly avoiding running over a scrambling Spud trying to get out of the way of Franks new pickup. Angry because Spud was playing in the area where he intended to park, Frank opened the truck door and stuck out his 30-30 caliber rifle, laying it across the pick-up hood, the menacing black barrel pointed at Spuds head.

Yew better run fer yore life carse Im gonna kill yew! Yew litle turdknocker.

Spud scrambled as fast as he could to get behind the large cedar tree just behind him but, he was not quite there when he heard the bullet crack beside his right ear. He was spared serious injury, or death, only when his furious mother came running full speed from the front porch and hit the rifle barrel like a bull elephant fearlessly charging an opponent at the exact moment Frank pulled the trigger a second time. Spud had gone squirrel hunting with Frank a couple of times before the marriage and knew Frank could hit a moving squirrel high up in a pecan tree even after drinking straight from the bottle a considerable amount of whiskey. From these experiences, Spud knew what death was. He stood over the lifeless bodies of squirrels Frank shot then watched as Frank skinned them. If he tried to look away, Frank would curse him for being a coward and worse, a sissy. When Spud saw the 30-30 barrel pointing at him and heard Frank screaming, Spud knew he was about to die, even though he was only six years old. For a brief instant he was afraid, but the feeling was fleeting, to be replaced by a feeling of calm; a feeling of calm acceptance of a situation he neither could

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved control, nor alter in any manner. He could only move as fast as his six year old legs could propel him as he dodged behind the cedar tree. After the first bullet whizzed by his head, Spud faced Frank Williams, standing resolute as the ancient cedar tree beside him, shook his fist at Frank and called him the only bad words he knew, words he had heard other people call him.

You god-damn drunk bastard!

From that moment onward, Spud never knew fear again and he never knew any affection for his vile step-father. When Spud thought about the matter, he thought he had confronted Satan and called him a bad name; and he still lived, therefore he felt empowered; he felt strong. At the moment of instant fear when Frank first pointed the rifle at him, he felt the strong hand of God resting upon his shoulder and he innately knew that comforting hand would protect him for the rest of his lifeexcept when Frank knocked him out of the mulberry tree one day a couple of weeks later. God was busy that day and His hand did not catch Spud before he hit the ground hard and broke his right arm. Several days before his mother and Frank planned to marry, Spud and his siblings were playing baseball in the yard at the side of the ranch house. A sober Frank, trying to demonstrate his willingness and ability to get along with the stepchildren, supposedly to prove to their mother he was a normal sort of guy, volunteered to be the pitcher. No body wanted the jerk in the game but all were powerless to prevent him from playing. The game progressed normally for awhile without any untoward activity. Each sibling received a turn at bat while the other siblings chased the fly and ground balls. Franks pitching was fair and most of the pitches resulted in hits. Finally, it was Spuds turn to bat. On the first pitch, he swung the bat and missed. Now Spud was a good hitter, even at this young age. He played baseball every chance he could. And he played hardball, not softball. On the second pitch,

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved a determined Spud smacked the hardball solid, knocking a line drive right for Franks head. Considering how he treated Spud most of the time, some might be inclined to say Spud hit the ball deliberately with the intention of doing Frank great bodily harm. However, given his age and baseball playing skills, only a very optimistic person could assign any real intentionally negative meaning, or purpose, to the line drive. Most who considered the event attributed the line drive to an accident. However, given Franks short abusive history with Spud, Spud was not averse to celebrating any misfortune that befell his surly soon-to-be step-father. Anyway, the fast moving hardball hit Frank on the forehead because his alcoholsodden brain was too slow-moving, either to advise the hand to move his glove up to protect his face, or too simply move his face out of the balls trajectory. When Spud saw the hardball smack Frank on the forehead, he stopped running to first base and started laughing. The guffaws were coming in spasms, doubling Spud over. Franks face assumed the look of a man with a ruptured bowel that was about to erupt through his nostrils. To Spuds great consternation, he saw volatile Frank start running toward him. It did not require a genius to figure out Frank intended some severe bodily harm, of a very unpleasant kind. So Spud took off running in the opposite direction. About fifty feet away stood a mature mulberry tree. It was a fruited mulberry tree. The fruitless kind did not exist at this time. Spud was a tree climber par excellence, regardless of the presence, or absence, of fruit. Much of his short life was spent climbing the trees around the ranch house and in the pecan bottom enjoying the fruits the trees offered when in season. Spud had climbed to the very top of that 60 foot tall mulberry tree on numerous occasions, fighting off the blue jays to get his fair share of the sweet tasting mulberries. Spud flew toward the tree as fast as his little legs could carry him with Frank in hot pursuit. Fortunately, Spud had enough of a head start he reached the tree safely, scrambling up it as fast as his little monkey-ass could take him. Frank was right behind, though, climbing the tree almost as fast as Spud.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud knew Frank was just behind, so he scrambled out on a thin limb, too thin to support Franks weight. He was about ten feet above the ground. A bellowing Frank grabbed the limb and shook it as hard as he could. Spud hung on for dear life with arms and legs wrapped tightly around the thin branch. Joe later said he looked kind of like one of those small Australian bears, a koala bear, he called it, desparately clinging to the shaking limb. After tiring of the limb-shaking, Frank stared with anger as visible in his flashing eyes as the burgeoning red knot was on his forehead. Every time Spud looked at the swelling knot, he began laughing again. The laughing Spud only enraged Frank more.

Yew litle basterd. Ima gonna git yew.

Trying desperately, yet unsuccessfully, to keep quiet, a snickering Spud was looking back at Frank with more defiance than Frank could stand. Frank became infuriated. How could that little monkey bastard laugh at him? Well, he was not going to get away with it.

Yewr gonna git yores, Frank yelled.

While Spuds siblings watched, a determined Frank clambered back down the tree and walked over to the hardball lying on the ground. Frank picked up the ball. He looked at it for a moment then he started tossing the ball into the air, catching it in his gloveless hand. He looked at the ball again, then he looked over at the mulberry tree where Spud was still chuckling. Frank walked back over to the tree. Now he was smiling.

Yewr gonna pay now, he screamed.

Frank threw the hardball as hard as he could. The ball hit Spud in the right eye, giving him a black shiner lasting two weeks. The broken arm he suffered

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved when he fell out of the tree required six weeks to heal. The ass-beating he suffered took three weeks to heal. The damage to the heart never healed.

On April 8, 1957, Frank Williams married Spuds mother in a small ceremony at the country church in Bulcher.

Six year old Spud refused to attend the wedding.

Thirty-eight year old Frank refused to let Spud eat dinner for three days.

Six year old Spud urinated in thirty-eight year old Franks coffee thermos every morning for five days.

On the weekend following the marriage, the family was invited to the Westmorelands ranch for a pot-luck party celebration. The Westmoreland family settled the valley at the same time Spuds great-great-grandfather came to the area. The two families migrated from Tennessee to Texas in 1845, settling first in Kaufman County. In 1869 the two families moved northwestward to the Red River valley. Their ranches bordered each other and were spread over both Cooke and Montague Counties. The two families remained close over the intervening years, helping each other in times of need and occasionally intermarrying. The Westmorelands were known for having rural electrical service. Their home was one of the first ranch houses the Texas Rural Electrification Program reached in that part of the state. Everyone figured it was because Johnny Westmoreland worked for Senator Lyndon Johnson. They were proud of their electric water pump with running hot and cold water inside the house. Of course, they were most proud of their indoor toilet, the first in that part of the rural county. To top off their list of modern amenities, they also had the only telephone in that area of the county.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud was not keen to go anywhere with Frank but his mother gave him no choice but to attend the event. Anyway, coming a week after the wedding, he really did not associate the party with the marriage and especially with Frank. They arrived at the Westmorelands ranch house around 6:30 p.m. In the large ranch house were all manner of good things to eat and drink. Crowded around the over-loaded tables were all the ranch and farm families for a good many miles around. Spud knew all the people in attendance and attended kindergarten with some of the boys and girls. He would be starting first grade in the fall with many of them. After eating, some of the kids went outside to play chase in the fading light. Spud was right there in the midst of the pushing and shoving kids. The play was fast and furious with kids shouting and yelling, running, hiding, and laughing until well after dark. Spud noted earlier there were several large pieces of wood lying on the ground at the rear of the house. By now it was dark with no moon, only an electric light shining by the barn, casting a vague light into the blackness. Spud made the mistake of coming out of hiding too soon when the girl who was it saw him and gave chase. Spud took off with abandonment, running around a corner of the ranch house as fast as his spindly legs could propel him. No one ever confessed, at least as far as Spud knew but, someone had removed some of the boards which were placed in the back yard to cover the open septic tank. Spud was running full bore when his feet left solid ground and he found himself falling head first into the blackness of the deep cesspool. He made a great splash when he hit the semi-liquid refuse. He also made a great deal of noise, screaming with the full intensity of his small lungs. It was several minutes before adults came running and he was finally rescued. He was washed down in the yard with a water hose, then taken inside and allowed a hot bath in the new bathroom. His clothes were thrown away. The Westmorelands outfitted him with clothes previously worn by their youngest son. Later, when Spud was old enough to consider the era with some reflection, it seemed to Spud that was about when his life literally turned to shit.

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Chapter 2 Killing The Competition

Spud and Diane loved playing in the hayloft. Both children loved the smell of fresh-cut hay and enjoyed scampering over the bales, playing tag among the frafrant alfalfa and clover bales. They were intimately familiar with every nook and cranny of the bales stacked upon the platform about ten feet above the barn floor. Sometimes, when the bales were fresh cut and stacked, they might come upon a rattlesnake, or copperhead, partially buried in the tighly packed bale. It was a toss-up which part of the snake might be sticking out of the bale. Most often, the snake was already dead. In any case, they were quick to eject that bale from their castle, as they thought of the stacked hay. Using a pitchfork, or some other lever, they would manuever the bale over the side of the platform then watch as it fell to the barn floor with a loud plop. The next time Joe carried hay to the cattle, or horses, he would pick up the bales on the barn floor, smiling at the thought of little Spud and Diane wrestling with such large and heavy bales of hay. Spud and Diane were playing in the hay one Saturday morning when they heard Frank shooing a calf to the barn. Both Spud and Diane became quiet. It was not good to be caught alone with Frank in the barn. They scampered over to a bale of hay in the corner and waited to see what Frank was up to. They were not long waiting. Frank hustled the yearling into the corner stall. Spud and Diana could see below through a hole in the oak plank directly over Frank and the bawling calf. What was Frank up to? They were soon to find out. After Frank had the calf in the stall, he shut the gate behind him. Then he unbuttoned his pants and let them drop to the ground. Spud and Diane could see his penis was long and hard. To their amazement, Frank pushed his penis into the calf, just as they had seen bulls enter cows and studs enter mares. Frank quickly thrust back and forth a few times then suddenly stopped and let out a gentle moan. Just then, Sheriff Bob Blakely called out Franks name. Frank quickly pulled up his pants and buttoned them just as the Sheriff entered the dark barn from the opposite side.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Frank, where are you? the Sheriff shouted.

Im over here. Frank called from the stall. He opened the stall gate and stepped out into the barns wide hallway as the Sheriff came toward him. The Sheriff glanced over at the stall where the calf was still bawling. Although the Sheriff was the typical southern law enforcement type, he was at least astute enough to figure out what was going on.

Having some fun, Frank? he innocently inquired.

Whut the hell dew yew mean? Ah wuz tending a sick calf, iz all.

Hey, it is okay with me, whatever you were doing. I came here to ask you something.

Whut dew yew want? Frank almost snarled. He was upset he almost got caught with his pants down and his penis in the calf.

The Sheriff shrugged. He really did not care how many calves Frank fucked. I have a proposition for you. The Sheriff paused to guage Franks reaction. Maybe this was not a good time to ask Frank for a favor.

Whut zit yew want?

You know Buck Huff from over Nocona way?

Shore, Ah know Buck. He comes out to Capps Corner on Saturdays and plays dominos at the store.

Well, the judge wants Buck killed. The judge will pay $1,000. Are you willing to do it? Hes not a friend of yores?

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Naw, Buck and Ah arent friends.

If you will do this, Frank, I can promise there will be no investigation. But, you must do it the way I tell you.

Why does the judge want Buck dead?

Im not sure but I think he wants Bucks wife and she wants the judge. The two of them have been sleeping together on the sly for awhile. With Buck out of the way, they can get married after a decent time.

Frank was pensive for a few moments. $1,000 would be a good sum of money to have in his pocket, especially if Mary did not know he had the money. If she knew, she would just want to spend the money on her brat kids. Frank felt the money would be better spent on whiskey and the couple of whores in the county.

How yew want me to do it, Sheriff?

I have a pistol in my car that is untraceable. I want you to use the pistol and shoot him in his hog pen. The hogs will eat him and leave no trace except for his skull, so do not shoot him in the head. Shoot him in the chest.

Well, that sounds purtty good, but whut bout his wife? Whuts her name? Patsy?

Naw. His wifes name is Jean. You want to do this for the judge? He will be mightly grateful.

How do I do it with his wife around?

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Dont worry about her. The judge said he would tell her to go visit her relatives in Arkansas for a couple of weeks. You shoot him the day after she leaves and that will give the hogs time to eat him before she returns.

Okay, Ahll do it. Whenll ah git mah money?

When you tell me you have shot him, I will drive by his place and verify he is in the hog pen. Then I will bring the money to you. Okay Frank, lets shake hands on it.

Frank seemed to come to his senses momentarily as he grasped the Sheriffs hand. Ifn yew fuck me on this deal, Ahm coming after yew, Frank threatened.

The Sheriff was startled. He was taken aback by Franks threat. Although he had been Sheriff for about ten years, he had never fired his gun at another human. Even in the darkness of the barn, the Sheriff could detect the hard glint in Franks eyes and feel the cold breath upon his heart. He did not doubt for a moment Frank was serious.

The Sheriff opened his hand and withdrew it. Dont worry, Frank. It will go just like I told you. Just dont shoot Buck in the head since the hogs will not eat it.

Frank and the Sheriff began walking out the barn, talking about the weather. Spud and Diane had remained quiet during the conversation between the Sheriff and Frank. The two kids knew what murder was. Diane clasped Spuds arm tight, squeezing it hard.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud whispered, Youre hurting me. As he tried to pull away from Diane, she held on even tighter.

Spud, listen to me. You cant say anything to anyone. If Frank or the Sheriff know we overheard them talking about killing Buck, they will kill us. You understand?

Okay Diane. I understand. Please let go of my arm. Youre hurting me, Spud cried through the tears beginning to fall across his young cheeks.

Diane cast Spud a hard glance intended to intimidate him and make certain he kept his mouth shut.

Dont you ever, ever, tell anyone or we are both dead, Diane emphasized, the fear evident in her voice.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

Chapter 3 Raining Pork

Cmon Spud! Joe shouted. Time to feed the cows. Git yore scrawny butt movin!

Im a-comin, Spud yelled back.

Spud quickly gobbled the last few bites of breakfast before rushing from the table to the back porch. He hurriedly snatched his gloves from the wall hook, barely pausing long enough to open the screen door, almost throwing his skinny frame through the screen as he rushed to the barn. He did not want to keep Joe waiting. Joe walked out the front door and around to the side of the house where he left the pick-up beside the garage the night before. He started the old truck and drove it to the barn, driving the truck through the open doors and mid-way down the barn alley. The sturdy barns alley was oriented in an east-west direction and had double hung swing doors on both ends. The barns two inch thick boxed oak plank sheathing was weathered a monotonous grey. The barn doors were framed from the same boxed oak planks. The foundation was the hard packed earth covered in hay straw and manure. The barn had a tack room, horse stalls, milking room, carriage alley, a feed and miscellaneous storage room, and a loft with a hay door for getting hay into and out of the barn at each end of the barn. The corral was on the south side of the barn. It was sufficiently large to hold without crowding twenty horses. In the corner closest to the house stood a galvanized 500 gallon stock tank used for watering livestock when kept in the corral. The corral posts were eight inch square posts set four feet in the ground and standing seven feet above ground. The corral rails formed four evenly spaced lines and were made from the same two inch oak planks as the barn.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved The barn was about 200 feet from the rear of the house. Far enough to keep the barnyard smells out of the house, yet not too far to walk every day. The barn and corral were built about the same time as the ranch house, around 1935. Sunday mornings were difficult for Spud. He was always a little slow getting started so early in the morning after a Saturday night skating at the roller rink in town. Everyone else slept late on Sunday morning but, feeding the livestock each day was one of the chores usually attended by Joe and Spud and it required an early start. Joe always rose earlier than anyone else to milk the cow; he also gathered the eggs on Sundays so Spud could sleep a few extra minutes. Spud ran through the house and out the back door, snatching his gloves off the hook on the back porch wall as he headed for the barn as fast as his short legs could propel him forward. The day was still too early for much light but, the faint hint of the dawning of a new day came from the east, high above the treetops, the pale light kissing the tops of the trees shivering in the cool wind. Spud knew this was the time of summer morning when rattlesnakes, copperheads, and other less dangerous snakes were most active. Looking to and fro as he ran, he only saw one small copperhead making its way into the garden where it would find a cool, moist respite from the heat of the dawning day. Copperheads in the garden were a common sight when harvesting the vegetables; rattlesnakes were a common sight everywhere. Spud did not even pause to watch the copperhead but kept moving toward the barn along the well-worn path while insuring he did not cross paths with any nearby serpents lurking in the tall sideoats Grama (Bouteloua curtipendula) grass, a native perennial short prairie grass, good foraging grass for livestock. When the grama grass was maturing at 3-4 feet tall in the more fertile areas of the ranch and a gentle wind blew, usually from the west, the land looked like it was dancing as the blue-green grass swayed back and forth in harmony with the land and to the melody of the wind. The swaying grass gave the appearance a ghost rider was passing through, with his wide arms outstretched pushing the grass over. There was an almost inaudible whisper as the grass gave a timeless voice to the wind. It was a perfect harmony of land, grass, and

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved sky as the grass sang to any who listened. On these days the land looked energized, alive. It was a beautiful sight, an inspiration that gave a person the feeling time was not important, but place was. Joe and Spud loaded the back of the truck with ten bales of hay and two one hundred pound sacks of beef feed cake. Actually, Joe did the loading. Sixty pound, seven year old Spud, strong for his age, was not going to load 100 pound sacks of feed and 80 pound bales of hay for some time. His job was twofold: he opened and closed the gates between pastures so Joe did not have to get out of the pick-up and he kicked the loose hay and feed off the back of the lowered tailgate as Joe drove slowly through the various pastures. When loading the truck was finished, Spud plonked down on the scarred tailgate, sitting in the center on his favorite perch, happy to be a part of something that involved his oldest brother. The tailgate was scarred from much physical abuse. For many years all manner of ranch equipment, tools, stock feed, tractor parts, bales of hay, horse tack, bushel baskets full of vegetables, dirt, rocks, and even young calves were dragged across its surface almost on a daily basis. Sitting peaceably on the most entertaining place to ride in, or on, a pick-up, he did not notice the tailgate suffered as much abuse as he did. Even if he noticed the condition of the tailgate, it was not likely, at his age, he would associate the condition of the tailgate with his own. But, Joe could not help but make the connection, not just for Spud, but for himself and all his brothers and sisters. Every time Joe passed by the truck and saw the tailgate, he thought of the emotional and physical abuse suffered at the hands of a mean and cruel stepfather. He hated Frank for his violent and abusive behavior toward his stepchildren. When questioned, which was very seldom, Frank claimed the discipline, as he called it, was necessary in order to restrain and control the most unruly kids he ever knew. Most of the time though, discipline had nothing to do with his violent rages, but an empty fifth of cheap whiskey did. Joe started the pick-up and pulled out of the barn, headed for the first pasture. He always liked to feed the livestock because it was early in the
Comment [MB1]: Work on this some more.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved morning, just at daybreak and usually before anyone else was up and about. It was a peaceful time of day, perhaps the only peaceful time for the whole day. Joe looked at the ranch house; his attention was drawn to the window of the bedroom where his mother slept with Satan incarnate. He did not understand why she married him in the first place and he did not understand why she stayed married to him. It was a great, big mystery to him. Spud was too young to even give the matter any thought. It was just the natural way things were. Women had husbands and his mother was no exception. He could no more rationalize Franks, or his mothers, behavior at his young age than he could rationalize why the earth, or moon existed. It just was that way. Since Joe was the oldest of the children, he felt it was his responsibility to try to protect his younger brothers and sisters. The few times he tried to talk to him mother about The Bastard how he thought of Frank - she uncharacteristically shushed him up and told him it was not a subject for discussion. But, did she know what The Bastard was doing to her children? Joe thought she knew. How could she not know for he was equally brutal in front of her as he was behind her back. But, she probably was not aware of the sexual molestation going on. The Bastard was smart enough to keep that aspect of his abuse out of sight from her. Joe and the oldest sister, due to their age when Frank married Joes mother, were free from sexual molestation, but not the physical and emotional abuse. Frank beat Joe up several times the first six weeks he was part of the family and he slapped Dorothy around some. But the four younger siblings were not too old to be susceptible to the full spectrum of Franks abuse. Joe did not know for certain Frank had sexually abused his younger brothers and sisters, but from time to time he thought Frank capable of such behavior and he strongly suspected Frank had at least tried with the two younger girls. When he tried to ask the girls about Franks behavior, they just turned around and walked away. Joe regretted the day his mother married Frank. Before the marriage, his mother and her children had lived in peace and harmony for many years in the

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved old ranch house she inherited. She also inherited a small parcel of land the house and outbuildings sat on. The ranch house and barn were located on a low, flat hill overlooking the wide valley formed by the juncture of Mountain and Salt Creeks. From the barn, Joe and Spud could see most of the pastures to the west and north. But to the southwest of the house the ranch road wound down the side of the hill, out of sight from the house and into the pecan bottom where the road crossed Mountain Creek. Someone long ago had poured a concrete pad across the bottom of the creek, giving a solid foundation for crossing the sandy creek bed. Joe thought it was the oil company that poured the concrete so its pumper could make his daily rounds visiting the various pump jacks scattered around the assorted pastures. The pumper was hired by the oil company to check pump jacks and storage tanks for proper operation. Also, the oil company needed a solid creek crossing for the oil field equipment used to drill wells, and for their subsequent maintenance. The shallow stream had it origins in the springs of Gordon Mountain, about twelve miles to the south. On the north side of the concrete pad, the clear water falling over the edge of the pad had carved a deep hole which was a perfect swimming hole for young boys and girls. Even the older boys and girls liked to jump into the crystal clear, cool spring water on hot summer days. Along the high, steep creek banks were several hundred native pecan trees (Carya illinoensis Koch). The native pecan trees were large deciduous trees growing between 70 and 120 feet tall. In the fall, the majestic trees, some as much as 400 years old, shed their leaves and many found their way into the creek, blown by the severe winter wind. The sweet, pungent smell of rotting pecan leaves gave a year-round pleasant odor to the creek. The pecan leaves consisted of 38 volatile compounds containing 7 monoterpene hydrocarbons, 7 sesquiterpene hydrocarbons, 11 terpene alcohols, 1 terpene aldehyde, 1 terpene ketone, and 11 other aldehydes, ketones, alcohols, and esters. As the leaves rotted, these volatile hydrocarbon compounds were released into the air. Such a

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved natural mixture of volatile compounds seemed more addicting than any manmade alcohol-based product. Spud always enjoyed passing through the creek crossing and savoring the special aroma of the land where he was born. With the singing grass and the sweet aroma rising from the creek, it seemed like heaven to him. Just as Joe started the pick-up forward Dorothy and Diana, sisters between the ages of Joe and Spud, came running out of the house, shouting and waving to get Joes attention. He stopped the truck and waited patiently as they came running breathlessly to the drivers side of the truck.

Were goin to Aunties this mornin, Dorothy offered in explanation for stopping him.

Hop on, Joe replied.

As soon as the two girls were seated on either side of Spud on the tailgate, Joe let out the clutch and started off for the first pasture just across the Mountain Creek crossing. Auntie lived at Capps Corner. Long ago she and her husband owned and operated a combined gasoline station and grocery store at The Corner, as the locals called it. Now they just managed cattle on their small ranch. It was more than four miles to Aunties from the ranch house. By riding with Joe and getting off when he was farthest from the house, the girls cut down the distance they had to walk by more than half. Auntie would drive them back to the border between the two ranches later in the evening. Auntie liked to think of herself as a good Christian woman. She became embroiled in a heated dispute with her brothers several years previously over the terms of a contract giving a paving company access to the original ranch homestead, located where our ranch house was built. Her brothers had inherited the surrounding land around the ranch house and she had inherited a small piece on the far western side of the original ranch deeded in 1872 to Spuds great-

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved great-grandfather. Over the years, she and her husband added land to their original holdings so their ranch, now hundreds of acres in size, was comparable to the undivided land her brothers inherited. But, all her siblings inherited an equal right to the minerals of the original acreage. Her anger at her brothers for selling the homestead gravel rights to the paving company without her knowledge, or permission, prevented her from speaking with her brothers, or driving on their land, over the next 25 years. So, she would drive Dorothy and Diana to the farthest eastern point on her property, but then them had to walk the rest of the way home. Yep, there was no doubt in anyones mind she was a good Christian woman, one of the best in the county. She only had one child and the older folks joked it was only by accident on her honeymoon. She was always partial to females of any age and could not abide male companionship of any kind. After the girls jumped on the tailgate, Joe started the old truck moving forward again. He looked out the cracked windshield at the swaying grass. This morning the grass was rhythmically swaying to the gusts of wind, giving the appearance of waves rippling over the land, awash not in water, but in the movement of the westerly wind. The powerful image was not lost on Joe, or Spud. Joe looked upon the idyllic scene and understood he and Spud were just temporary fixtures upon the land, but the grass and the wind were forever. Spud just reveled in the magnificence of the moment: the picture spread before him and the closeness of his brother, especially the closeness of his brother who he thought walked on water. Spud was too young to understand forever but, old enough to appreciate awesome images of earth and sky and the love his older brother had for him. As Joe approached the first gate, made from barbed wire and four cedar posts, Spud jumped from the back of the truck and sprinted forward to open the gate while the truck was still moving forward. Joe seldom had to stop when Spud was tending the gates. Joe liked having Spud ride along to open the gates as the

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved chore was finished much sooner than if he had to stop the truck, get out and open and close the gates himself. Spud had developed this skill of jumping off the back of the truck and racing forward in the interest of completing this chore as soon as possible, a necessity in the winter when the school bus was hurtling toward the corral at the intersection of the ranch road and the road into town. Those days chores had to be completed quickly for time was required to either saddle horses and ride to the town road, or hook up a Ford tractor to a hay trailer and drive to the intersection; the bus being unable to negotiate the steep, narrow portions of the ranch road during rain, or snow, days. As soon as Joe passed the gate, he started blowing the pick-up horn. The cows, recognizing the horn as a dinner bell, came out from a myriad out-of-sight places along the creek and from behind small hills. They came running across the pasture toward the truck. Before the cows reached the truck, Joe stopped and came to the back.

Yall ridin okay back here? he asked.

Yep, was the unanimous reply.

Okay, lets bust these bales apart and get the feed sacks opened.

Lets consisted primarily of Joe. He had the wire cutters for cutting the wire holding the hay bales together and he had the skill to open the feed sacks without the use of a knife. But, it always made Spud feel useful and wanted when Joe included him in anything Joe did. Soon Joe was back in the truck and slowly moving forward as Spud, Dorothy, and Diana kicked hay and feed cake, thumbsized compressed grain and suet, off the end of the lowered tailgate. Spud liked to watch the cows, a pure-bred strain of Black Angus, come running to the feed line and arrange themselves in an orderly fashion along the line; every cow stood perpendicular to the line which kept the cows from standing on top of the food

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved they were eating. Even the calves fell into line in the correct position. Hogs, chickens, and even deer were not this organized when it came to eating feed put out by humans. Those critters tended to stomp all over the food in their haste to get as much down as possible before it was all gone. Joe thought humans acted just like the cows. Ring the dinner bell and they came a-runnin, just like the cows. He observed the human behavior every day when in school and the lunch bell rang. When it was time to round-up cows to take to the market, all that was required was to put out a portable corral, put hay and feed cake in the corral, honk the horn and watch them come running. It seemed to Joe, as young as he was, the American government treated people the same way. Joe continued from pasture to pasture until he came to the last one. After opening the gate, Spud hopped back on the tailgate, sitting between his two sisters. This particular pasture was the largest and Joe had to drive some distance to get to the approximate center where the feed was distributed so he drove faster than in the other pastures. Spud saw Dorothy and Diana give each other a sly look before they each grabbed an arm above the elbow, near the shoulder. They counted one, two, three, then they lifted Spud up from the tailgate and threw him off. Not only was the sandy loam soil hard and uncomfortable from the backside landing, but he landed on top of a five foot tall bull nettle, known more scientifically as a Carolina Horsenettle (Solanum carolinense). As he looked after the rapidly retreating pick-up, he could see the two older girls rolling around inside the bouncing truck bed, laughing uproariously. To add greater insult to the severe injury he suffered when he landed in the bull nettle, the walk back to the ranch house was a good two miles and when the girls later lied and said he jumped out of the back of the pick-up, he received a thorough whipping from his mother. Throwing his scrawny ass off the tail-gate was just one more insult added to the many other insults they dished out on a regular basis. There was the time they caught him coming out of the school house one warm, spring afternoon.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved They grabbed him and forced him around a corner of the building. Diana sat on him while Dorothy removed his clothing, even his underwear. Then there was the time they did practically the same thing one Saturday night outside the roller rink. Then one Halloween night, as they were trick or treating in town, Diana pushed him off a porch into a cactus. It was a great understatement to say he was beginning to dislike his two sisters. He was as angry as he had ever been. He was not sure how angry that was, for he was only seven years old and he was seldom angry. But he was angry enough to understand one day he would get even, regardless of how long he had to wait. While standing beside the bull nettle trying to pull as many of the fine needles out of his skin as possible, actually an impossible task for anyone, he decided there was no point in waiting for Joe to come back. Joes return path to the ranch house was circular so he would not be returning this way and even if he could run in his painful condition with the fine needles sticking him all over his body, he could not reach the center of the pasture before Joe moved on. Maybe Joe would come back this way and pick him up but, Spud doubted it. The girls probably told Joe he became mad and jumped off the tailgate and walked home. They would never tell Joe they threw him off.

Spud could imagine their laughing explanation: Oh! He fell out when you hit that armadillo hole back there a-ways and the tailgate bounced up real high and Spud went a-flyin and we could not catch him.

Why didnt you yell for me to stop? Joe probably asked.

We were laughing too hard! was their probable response.

No, nothing left to do but glumly walk back to the house. Perhaps, the long hike would moderate his anger and by the time he reached the house it would be abated. But, he hoped it wouldnt be, because he wanted to choke them until they turned blue for what they did. Then he began thinking about Frank and

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved realized only a bastard like him would choke someone. So, he let it go and started the long walk home. He would figure out one day how to get even. The day was still young but, the sun was now shinning brightly and Spud knew it would soon reach 100 degrees Fahrenheit, in the shade under the mature pecan trees spread along the creek. Without water until he reached the creek, such a long hike in the suffocating heat would tax his strength so he decided to start moving toward the house as fast as he could move, given his young, sensitive hide was full of stinging needles. But first, he had to remove his clothes which were chock full of needles looking for tender skin to impale. As he started back for the house wearing nothing but his socks, boots, and Stetson, he suddenly heard a huge explosion from the direction of the house. Shortly thereafter he saw a plume of smoke, or dust - he could not tell which it was - rising in the now still air, appearing to rise from somewhere behind the house up on the far hill. The family stove and refrigerator used propane, stored in a large tank beside the house. Fearing a gas explosion, he tried to increase his gait, afraid his mother might be injured in the explosion. Painfully hobbling along, a worried Spud decided to stop following the road and start walking across country to shorten the time needed to get home. If only the bull nettle stings would stop their painful stinging and incessant itching. ___________________________________________________

Richard woke up Sunday morning feeling wonderful. Today was the day. He was going to do it for certain. He had been thinking about killing Frank for almost a year now. Ever since he found out Frank had raped Diana, and probably Dorothy. He could take The Fucking Bastards sexual abuse as long as he had too, but he was damned if he would stand for The Fucking Bastard sexually molesting and raping his sisters. For awhile Richard could not figure out a good method for killing Frank that would insure Frank demise while keeping himself some safe distance from the mean bastard and out of his clutches. Not that Richard was afraid to kill Frank up close. He just wanted to be certain if Frank survived the initial attack, he

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved did not present The Fucking Bastard an opportunity to retaliate. There was no doubt in his sixteen year old mind Frank would kill him in return, if Frank survived the initial attack. Of course, he thought about shooting Frank, but not up close. Up close would give the much stronger man the opportunity to wrest the gun away and shoot him. He thought he could shoot Frank from a distance, but if the bullet did not cause a mortal wound, Richard did not think he could perform a coup de grace. Although he saw much blood working on the farm and was not squeamish, he felt walking up to a wounded man and shooting him in the head, or heart, would require a different constitution than that required for butchering hogs, or chickens. So, he kept thinking on it. He wanted a sure-fire method that was guaranteed to kill with no chance for retaliation. The previous Saturday while in town selling vegetables, he was wandering around inside the hardware store when he saw the boxes of dynamite sitting off in a remote corner. That started him thinking. Frank always went to the outhouse every Sunday morning at 9:00 am. He was as regular as a fine Swiss timepiece. And he was always in the outhouse for fifteen minutes. It seemed a simple matter to place a couple of sticks of dynamite under the rear of the outhouse and light the fuse as soon as The Fucking Bastard entered the small wooden structure. A few minutes later, the outhouse would be gone and so would The Fucking Bastard. He did not mind the idea of having to dig a new shit-hole and build a new structure if it meant getting rid of the hateful and spiteful asshole. (Richard wished he knew more curse words to describe him but The Fucking Bastard seemed good enough most of the time.) Last night when Joe dropped the girls off at the movie theater, Richard jumped out of the bed of the truck and told Joe he was going to hang around the square for the evening and would find a way home later. For awhile he stayed in the square visiting with friends. Some Like It Hot starring Jack Lemon and Marilyn Monroe was still showing at the theater. He had not seen the movie and for a moment considered buying a ticket. He decided against watching the movie since he was going to walk home and he did not want to get home in the wee

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved hours of the morning. For what he was determined to do, he needed to get home before midnight and get some rest before he had to rise in the morning and set his plan in motion. He almost decided to watch the movie since Marilyn Monroe was the lead female character. He heard of the famous scene where her dress blew up momentarily exposing her panties and thought postponing his plan for a week would be okay. After some deliberation, he decided to stick to his plan. Killing Frank was more important than seeing Monroes panties. So he hung around the downtown square for awhile, chatting with various friends as they came and went throughout the early evening. As soon as the sun set and the evening light was fast fading, he left the square and walked over to the railroad tracks, a couple of blocks away. The hardware store was just down the tracks about 100 feet. It was dark between the tracks and the hardware store as the town only had a few street lights around the square; it was a moonless night so darkness was assured while he carried out his plan. Since it was a cloudless night, there was some light coming from the stars of the Milky Way, just enough to light his way without stumbling. Richard walked up to the rear door of the hardware store. Opening the rear door using a tire tool he borrowed from a friend at the square was simple. In only a few minutes he was in and out, now the proud owner of ten sticks of dynamite and a length of fuse which he placed in a gunny sack he brought for the purpose. Deciding it was too risky to return to the square carrying the dynamite, he turned away from town and began the 12 mile walk back to the house. He could gain a little time by walking across country instead of following the road. Anyway, he was not likely to run into any nosy humans curious about the items he was carrying in a gunny sack, if he walked cross-country. Six foot three inch Richard had a long stride; a twelve mile walk was an easy hike for him. He knew would be home before anyone else. With his excellent night vision he would find his way home by the starlight reaching earth from the distant stars in the Milky Way. He could look up and see the Milky Way stretched like a wide, white twinkling belt around the belly of the universe, directly overhead and stretching from

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved horizon to horizon. He admired the numerous falling meteors. They seemed to signal a special sense of approval from heaven. It seemed to him God was sending a message saying He approved of his actions. He had walked to and from town many times and was accustomed to traveling along his favorite trail; beginning near Boggess Cemetery and passing by Katy Lake, the trail then passed through Gordon Gap before plunging down the steep Gordon Mountain where it began winding through the valley, passing between Devils Backbone on the east and Mountain Creek on the west. This well marked trail had been used for almost 100 years by valley residents who either rode a horse, mule, or walked to and from town for various reasons but, mostly to buy supplies and visit with friends in town. As soon as Richard left the town behind, he began to clearly hear the night sounds. He was familiar with these sounds and did not feel threatened by them. He thought they were comforting as they signified he was the only person walking the trail tonight and he was not keen to run into anyone while he was carrying dynamite. Questions were certain to be asked. He loved to walk the country at night and listen to the sounds of the critters. There was the scratching of mice and rats moving quickly out of his way; the scrape of a snake crawling across a rocky area after its prey; the hoot of owls; the barking of coyotes call-locating their families while on the hunt; the thump, thump, thump of a cottontail or jackrabbit as it hurried away from is path; the howl of a lone wolf, rare in this part of the country but still inhabiting the river valley in small numbers; the cry of a cougar; the thrashing of deer running under the low hanging limbs of trees; the forlorn call of the whippoorwill as it foraged in the night air; the purring of a raccoon; from a distance the smell of a threatened skunk; occasionally a sluggard possum scrambled to get out of his way, issuing guttural sounds of protest as it clumsily ran away; the occasionally low moo of a cow; and the sounds of a multitude of insects and frogs. Taken together, it was a nocturnal symphony, an extended musical composition of wide ranging instruments scored for a primitive orchestra. It was music to Richards ears and helped him forget the constant pain he suffered from The Fucking Bastard ripping

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved his anus apart with a hard penis one terrible Friday night. He set off at a comfortable 4 miles per hour pace. When he returned home late, just before midnight, he dug a hole under the rear of the outhouse, being careful to avoid the shit-hole. He stored the dynamite in the barn in a 50 gallon drum of horse feed, making certain the dynamite was deep down in the pungent sorghum molasses covered grain. When morning came, Richard opened his eyes and immediately remembered what he had to do today. Today was going to be a good day, maybe the best day of his sixteen year old life. Richard hopped out of bed and went to the kitchen where his mother was preparing breakfast. He puttered around the kitchen helping until breakfast was ready. Joe and Spud were due back at the house; they were running late. Unknown to the others, Spud was bush-whacking cross-country to shorten the painful walk home after being thrown out of the pick-up while Joe was frantically driving around all the ranch roads trying to find him. If they did not arrive soon, the food was going to be cold. The rest of the family sat down at the dinning table and began to eat a hearty breakfast of biscuits, ham, bacon, fried potatoes, eggs, gravy, and jam, consumed with cold, fresh, whole milk. The only store bought item in the breakfast was the flour and baking soda used to make the biscuits and the coffee for the older folks. Everything else was produced on the ranch. It was 8:30 am. After breakfast, Richard helped his mother clean the kitchen table all the while slyly watching The Fucking Bastard. He was going to blow Franks sorry ass to kingdom come. As soon as Frank was out the back door, straight up and down 9:00am as usual, Richard made an excuse and left the kitchen, going out the front door. He went around the side of the house to the rear and furtively peeped around the corner. He watched Franks progress toward the outhouse. He waited until he saw Frank go into the outhouse. As soon as the outhouse door was shut, Richard ran to the barn and dug the dynamite and fuse cord out of the feed barrel.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved He ran out of the barn and toward the outhouse, carrying the dynamite in one hand and the fuse cord in the other. He had his cigarette lighter in his pocket. He checked it before he left his bedroom earlier, insuring it was full of Ronson fluid and there was a new flint. He did not want to get this far in his plan to discover his lighter did not work. When he was about 50 feet away, he slowed to a walk. As he came closer, he began to walk very stealthily. He estimated The Fucking Bastard had been in the outhouse for five to eight minutes. It was a simple matter to place the ten sticks of dynamite underneath the outhouse, light the five foot fuse, and steal away without raising any alarm. He quietly moved away from the outhouse and returned to the barn. He wanted to see Frank get what he deserved. Two minutes had already gone by then another two minutes passed and there was no explosion. In the middle of the previous week, Richard asked his older cousin, who used dynamite to clear timber on their place, how long a fuse he needed for a five minute burn. His cousin told him to figure one foot per minute. However, his cousin did not tell him this was only an approximation and could vary from 45 seconds per foot to 90 seconds per foot. Just as Frank exited the outhouse, a sow and her fifteen piglets wandered close by the wooden structure. Frank was almost at the back porch when the mighty explosion threw him headfirst into the rear of the house. The sow and her piglets became coyote manna pork raining from heaven - for the next few days. The Fucking Bastard suffered a broken back and neck when his head and torso went through the exterior wall of the house. The doctor said he was lucky he was not killed; he probably survived only because he worked as a roughneck in the oil patch and his neck and back were in great physical condition. Frank was laid-up in the hospital for three months, swearing every day he was going to take care of that maggot Richard as soon as he was out of traction and out of the hospital. He was literally going to tear Richard a new asshole. Thinking about fucking that screaming baby boy without any lubricant while bent over the milking stall with his pants and underwear around his knees made his

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved painful days lying in bed much easier to accept. Frank resolved he was going to fuck Richard every day as brutally as he could until he ran away from home. Good riddance to W.Cs trash, he thought. Then it would be Spuds turn. The thought of fucking that tight, young, virgin ass brightened his day considerably, as he lay in traction and, unsuccessfully, tried to play with himself.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

Chapter 4 Billie Jean

Billie Jean woke early Saturday morning. She lay in bed momentarily forgetting why she wanted to rise early. Stretching, she wanted to return to the dreamland she was so rudely startled from by the incessant alarm clock. Just before she fell back to sleep, she thought she was as rude to the clock as it had been to her. Slowly the sleep left her. She finally realized it was not a school day and she would see Joe tonight at the skating rink. Suddenly, she flung the bed covers off her and leapt out of bed. There was no time today to lay around and enjoy a leisurely morning. There were many tasks waiting to be accomplished before the evening. She mentally ran through the list of things she needed to do. At the top of the list was a drive to Gainesville to shop for a new blouse, skirt and accessories and, of course, a trip to the beauty parlor, one of her favorite things to do. First she needed to eat breakfast, then bath and dress for the 25 mile trip. She had saved babysitting money for almost six months so she could buy a new skirt and blouse, with matching shoes and a handbag, knowing a special moment was coming in the near future. She was certain Joe was going to ask her to marry him tonight and she wanted to look her best. After shopping for clothes, she was going to the hairdresser and the manicurist. It was going to be a long day in Gainesville and she was going to return home with the appropriate clothes and hair-do so she could look beautiful tonight. Mentally calculating the time required to prepare for her meeting with Joe tonight, she realized she had to be back home by 4:00 p.m. to be certain she had time to bath again, put on her make-up, change clothes and still arrive at the skating rink shortly after it opened at 6:30 p.m. With an even smile spread across her sweet cherry lips impressed across pearly white teeth, she gaily and gracefully pranced across the cool, wooden bedroom floor through the door and

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved down the hall, her nightgown swirling around her slim, pear-shaped torso, and into the unoccupied bathroom. Billie Jean always eagerly looked forward to this time each morning in the warm bathroom. It was the time she used to energize her spirit. The cold surface of the mirror never lied to her. She did not have to ask who was the fairest. She already knew who was the fairest. Since the seventh grade, she always garnered the most votes for cheerleader; the three years she was in high school she was elected each year as the Most Beautiful (and she was very pleased Joe was always voted Most Handsome). No, she was not vain; she knew who the fairest was so there was no need to be vain. She could afford to be magnanimous toward her competition. The time spent in front of the mirror was used to reinforce her appreciation for her beauty and the special status it engendered and her gratitude for being born with above average beauty. But, she did not see the same beauty visible to everyone else. She saw a plain girl starring back at her in the mirror; she felt humbled to be considered a beautiful woman. So she stood for 30 minutes before the mirror and examined every pore, every hair she could see, and gave thanks over and over again. As she looked into the mirror, carefully examining her forehead and nose for any sign of those pesky pimples that could break out suddenly, especially if she was near her menstrual cycle as she was today, she thought of the young man who was the love of her life. She looked into the mirror and acknowledged to the silent image starring back at her that Joe was the most handsome boy she had ever seen. That is, he was the most handsome as long as he was not suffering from the effects of his brutish Neanderthal-like step-fathers violent blows to the head and face. She wondered how long Joe was going to stand for that kind of treatment. Thinking about it, anger began to well up like a hot spring in her well-endowed breast. If Joe would not, or could not, make Frank stop beating him, maybe she could figure out a way to make him stop. In any case, Joe needed to stand up to Frank. Joe was no longer a boy, but he was a man now and men did not let other

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved men beat hell out of them on a regular basis like that. She decided she would talk to Joe about it when she was with him tonight. Maybe they could figure something out. She shook her head, angry she let her thoughts take a sudden black turn. She did not want to think about the evil Frank today. To force her mind back to something more pleasant, she started thinking of the first time she let Joe touch her breasts. This thought always brought pleasure to her as her body reacted immediately to her licentious, sexual thoughts. As soon as she thought of him touching her, her nipples turned hard and something small, like a tiny bulb on a small plant between her legs turned hard and started tingling and moisture appeared at the entrance to her lips She knew she had a clitoris but she did not know that is what it was called. She could feel it grow hard from time to time for some reason when she had sexual thoughts. When it did grow hard, she felt a strange tingling sensation in her breasts, in her lower abdomen and between her legs. She could also feel her pulse go up at the same time. It felt as if her skin were alive of its own accord, so sensitive to the touch she could hardly stand to even touch herself anywhere. But there was a craving to touch herself between her legs, a craving that bordered on insanity if she did not touch herself there. However, she always managed to keep her still hands at her side although it required all the self-control she could muster. She closed her eyes while pressing her legs together as hard as she could and just let the feeling wash over her until it dissipated in a couple of minutes. When she was brave enough to look in the bathroom mirror afterwards, she could see the inside of her legs from just below the hairy triangle to her knees were red from the pressure she exerted to keep her legs closed. She no longer knew exactly when her mother took her aside and talked to her about touching herself, but she thought she was about five, or six. Her mother showed her how to wash between her legs with a wash cloth at an earlier age, cautioning her then to only touch herself with a wash cloth. Her mother said no other touching was allowed. The way she said it, in that stern, parental voice,

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Billie Jean understood bad things would happen to her if she ever did touch herself for any reason other than to wash; and later to put on/take off a sanitary napkin. So, she was very ignorant of the structure and uses of the various parts comprising her privates. She knew she had breasts and a vagtina with associated parts and that was about the extent of her knowledge of her female anatomy even though she had attended the health class the school provided for ninth grade students. She knew even less about a mans anatomy. Oh, she knew they had a penis and testicles. She saw enough naked male babies and small boys when babysitting so she knew what they looked like on the outside. In this regard, girls were much more fortunate than boys. It seemed society said it was okay for young females to see naked boys, but it was not okay for young boys to see naked females. And she knew to get pregnant a man must put his hard penis inside her vagina and ejaculate. (But, she really did not even know where her vagina was, except it was down there somewhere.) Otherwise, she was at the mercy of ignorance when it came to understanding the physical mechanics of getting pregnant. Her reverie was rudely interrupted by loud banging on the bathroom door.

Come on! Youve been in there a long time and I need to go!

Brothers. Exasperated, Billie Jean shouted, Im busy. You can wait.

Her younger brother was a brat; a spoiled, obnoxious brat. The youngest one of the four member family, she thought he received far too much attention from her mother and father who doted on him and gave him everything he wanted. Too bad he was not like Joes youngest brother, Spud. Spud and Brad were close to the same age, Brad being an accident, but there was really no comparison between the two boys.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud was sweet, cute, earnest to please almost to the point of embarrassment, hard-working, and the most well-mannered boy she had ever met. Well, probably it was a tie as the list of most well-mannered boys included Joe, also. Those two boys never opened their mouth without Sir or Maam being one of the first words they said and they always ended a sentence with one, or the other, as appropriate. In comparison, her brother was just a small tyrant looking to cause her grief at every opportunity he could find. One of his favorite tricks was putting kerosene on her toothpaste, making her gag when she absentmindedly put the toothbrush covered with the tainted toothpaste into her mouth. If only Spud were her brother! She hoped her first child inherited Joes traits and was a boy identical in every respect to Spud. She knew Spud worshipped her as if she were a goddess descended from Mount Olympus. Spud probably did not know anything about Mount Olympus, but if he did, that is probably what he would think. She was not amused by Spuds attitude. Instead, she was flattered such a young boy was so infatuated with her. Amusement would convey a distinct sense of disrespect and if anything, she respected Joe and his family. That is, everyone in his family, but Frank. But she never thought of Frank as part of that family. She thought of Frank as a disease in the family that could not be cured and it was slowly killing the body it inhabited, killing it by strangulation. Billie Jean leaned forward to get a better view from the mirror of an interesting spot on her cheek near her right ear that seemed to be the start of a monthly blemish. She thought how hard-working Joes family was. And how they enjoyed living even though they had very little, barely surviving out there in that old ranch house built by their great-great-grandfather. She knew their mother inherited the ranch house and a few acres but it seemed that was inadequate for them to have much in creature comforts. One hot summer night while Joe lay in her svelte arms bare to the shoulder, his head resting upon her full but not too-large bosom, he told her the whole story behind their predicament. How his tall, handsome father was a womanizer and would not keep his hands off any woman who was near; most

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved ladies welcoming his attentive administrations; how his father stayed in Germany after World War II for five years, not even coming home once, so he could have an unlimited supply of young, hungry women willing to trade sexual favors for a little something to eat. After his father did return home, he laughed when he told Joe stories of young women who sold their virginity for a bar of chocolate. From 1941 Joes father left his indigent mother alone, coming around every year or so, just often enough to keep her pregnant, it seemed. Otherwise, his father left his mother alone with hungry children to raise on a ranch producing a meager existence from raising a few vegetables in a truck garden and a couple of cows. Most of the livestock on the ranch belonged to her brothers who inherited the bulk of the land and the other ranch assets. Her brothers paid Joe and the other children for taking care of the cows and horses, plowing and planting the fields, and helping to gather the hay, but the pay was barely sufficient to keep the children in shoes and Sunday clothes. Joe had told her how his father, everyone called him W.C., was stationed in Amarillo at the air base, responsible for training flight engineers. It seems W.C. refused some order so his commanding officer transferred him to a unit in Europe in 1944. He was wounded at the Battle of the Bulge and convalesced at the Armys Letterman General Hospital. Afterwards, the Army sent him to the Arme Language School in Monterrey, California before sending him back to Germany where he stayed for the next five years. It seems W.C. discovered food could buy him any woman he wanted in Germany, and it seems he wanted them all. In early 1950 Joes father was transferred to the war in Korea. He only passed through town in February on his way from Germany to Korea, stopping long enough to get Joes mother pregnant. Then he was off to Korea for another great adventure and more women. He arrived in Korea in the spring of 1950. By fall, he divorced Joes mother, three months before she gave birth to Spud. Then there was the abuse the children suffered at the hands of their fiendish step-father. Everyone in town knew they suffered at Franks brutal hands. Richards trial last year on charges he attempted to murder Frank by dynamiting the outhouse when he thought Frank was inside brought out many

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved ugly details regarding Franks abusive relationship with his step-children. According to the trial testimony, Richard broke into the town hardware store and stole a couple of sticks of dynamite actually a whole box as she recalled - along with a length of fuse cord. Billie Jean knew farmers and ranchers used dynamite for clearing land and for preparing watercourses for damming so the hardware store always kept a small supply of dynamite on hand. She knew Richard, after stealing the dynamite from the hardware store, went home and proceeded to blow-up the outhouse while he thought Frank was inside. Unfortunately, she thought, as did most everyone else in town, he used a fuse too long. Frank exited the outhouse sooner than expected while a sow pig and her 15 piglets had unexpectedly wandered too close to the building. It was said in court after the ten sticks of dynamite exploded, pork rained down for miles around. Their Auntie said she found what was left of the sows head in one of her pastures, almost two miles away. The judge, expressing his misgivings regarding Franks behavior toward his step-children and yielding as Richard had probable cause to retaliate for the beatings he received no one dared mentioned the sexual abuse, a very taboo subject - decided to let Richard go with a six month suspended sentence and a stern warning not to use too much dynamite next time. The stigma of sexual abuse was so great, this issue was never even brought up at Richards trial, but Billie Jean knew the abuse existed because Joe told her about it many months after they started dating. If the judge and jury knew about that aspect of the abuse, Richard would have walked away without a guilty verdict. But Joe was adamant that no one should mention anything about Richards sexual abuse. That was a family secret and it was going to stay a family secret. Since Frank threatened to kill Richard as soon as he was back home, Richard could not return to the ranch after Frank was released from the hospital. So, Richard left for California to live with a reluctant father who had recently retired from the Army and did not want a teenage son to be responsible for. No

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved one was certain why W.C. agreed to let Richard come to California and stay with him, but Joe suspected it was because his mother had some evidence of W.C.s committing some crime while he was in the Army and threatened to disclose the evidence to the proper authorities, if he did not take Richard in. Billie Jean was in the same company as the trial judge and most of the rest of the community who seemed to be more distressed by Richards failure than his actual attempt to murder Frank. She thought Richards suspended sentence of six months jail time for destroying property no one was certain where this charge came from but since the charge was not attempted murder, there was no murmur of protest in the community- was about as lenient as the judge could sentence him and still maintain some sense of judicial decorum by demonstrating justice of a sort - had prevailed, thereby allowing Texas judges and prosecuting attorneys to sleep well at night knowing they duly discharged their duty. The rest of the community slept well anyway most of the time but wanted to see Frank, not Richard, in prison for his abuses. Nothing kept the townspeople from seeing the bruises upon the childrens faces when they came to school. From time to time, the school nurse asked a child to disrobe to his, or her underwear, so she could document the bruises usually found from head to toe, front and back. Every time, it was Frank who was responsible for the bruises. Billie Jean momentarily wondered if Frank sexually abused the three girls, but the thought was so heinous to her, she immediately pushed aside such awful thoughts. It was horrible enough to know he sexually abused Richard. If only Richard had succeeded in killing him, she did not think there was a jury in the country that would sentence him to prison if they knew the truth. More likely, they would give him a medal, maybe even a couple. Billie Jean sighed. She forced her thoughts into the realm of happy thoughts; thoughts about tonight and for the moment she had waited at least a year. Finally convinced the small red spot on her cheek was not the beginning of a bright blaze marking her journey along the menstrual cycle, her attention was

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved suddenly focused on the growl coming from her stomach reminding her breakfast was probably ready. She turned from the captivating mirror and went downstairs.

Good morning! Billie Jean exclaimed as she entered the dinning room. Ummmm. Breakfast smells wonderful.

Her mom and dad looked at her askance, Youre up early.

Remember you said I could drive to Gainesville today? I need to buy some new clothes and get my hair permed.

Her dad smiled. Billie Jean was his princesses. He knew she thought he spoiled his son and did not spoil her. The issue with that line of reasoning was, he thought, Billie Jean was so well behaved of her own accord, he had no reason to forgive her for transgressions like he did his son. Of course, he had heard the joke about sons and daughters. If you have a son, you need only worry about one penis in town. If you have a girl, you must worry about every penis in town. He knew he did not have to worry at all when it came to his daughter, but his son was another matter.

Okay, darlin. Just be careful with the car, please. What time can we expect you home?

Billie Jean poured milk over her Cheerios. She mentally calculated again the tasks and time to perform them, in addition to the drive to and from Gainesville.

Ill be home between 4:00 and 5:00 p.m. Is that okay, Daddy? I think Joe is going to propose to me tonight so I want to look my best.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Billie Jeans father removed the Caddy keys from his pocket and slid them across the table.

Okay darlin. Just drive careful and return home safely. You are not going alone, are you? he asked as an afterthought.

In 1959, teenagers were eligible to take Drivers Education when they reached 14 years and six months of age. Billie Jean was almost 17 and she had been driving for over two and one half years without incident, or accident. Her dad was confident she would navigate the highway to and from Gainesville without any problems.

No, Daddy. Judy is going with me. I am going to pick her up at her house.

Good. was the only reply as her dad focused his attention on the Saturday edition of the Dallas Morning News.

Her dad owned a large tract of land a short distance outside of the small town. He planted turkey hard red winter wheat every fall. The wheat harvest was going to start soon so he was keen to know the price of wheat futures bought and sold on the Kansas City Board of Trade. The grain futures tucked into the back pages of the paper was always the first item he read. Every time Betty Jean thought about wheat, she smiled inwardly. One day several years ago when she was frightened because the government said there could be nuclear war between Russia and America, her father had told her the story how clever American immigrants smuggled the recently hybridized wheat from Russia, essentially stealing the special winter wheat from the Communist country, from right under the Communists noses. Before then, America did not know winter wheat existed, instead planting and harvesting a hard red spring

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved wheat that had to be harvested before the first frost in the fall, thereby limiting where it could be grown. Winter wheat opened up vast new lands for growing the ubiquitous crop since it could be planted in the fall, survive in very cold climates during the winter, and be harvested the following spring and summer. If America could take away such an important food source from the Communists, then there was nothing to worry about. She was not certain she saw the connection between stealing wheat secrets and surviving a nuclear war, but she trusted her daddy and anyway it was his calm voice exuding assurance that instilled confidence in her and not the story that reassured her.

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She stopped at her car and carefully placed the packages in the roomy trunk of her parents 1959 Cadillac Coupe De Ville. Billie Jean earlier confided in her mother the importance of the day. She grinned and thought of poor Dad who never wins when his daughter and mother gang up on him. Although he was a World War II combat veteran, he just did not seem to be able to withstand the onslaught of so much female beauty. Billie Jeans mother pressured her father into letting Billie Jean drive the familys prized possession to Gainesville. The sleek, long car was eye-catching with the outrageous tailfins and the jet pod taillights were an instant conversation item whenever she stopped for any reason. Strangers came from everywhere around wanting to examine the distinctive car and discuss its attributes. It was said strikingly beautiful Billie Jean made the car look even more beautiful and that was the real reason men and women of all ages gathered around the red and chrome Caddy when it stopped. After speaking with the gathering crowd a few minutes, Billie Jean got into the car. Time to drive on over to the nearby beauty salon. Billie Jean arrived at the beauty parlor just in time for her appointment at 1:00pm. The talk in the busy beauty parlor mostly concerned the recent Academy Awards show. The 31st Academy Awards was shown the previous Monday. The

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved show was broadcast from the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood, California. Everyone was still talking about Gigi winning nine Oscars, beating the previous record of eight Oscars won by the enduring Gone With The Wind. Gigis Oscars included Best Picture and Best Director (Vincente Minnelli). Best Actor went to David Niven for his performance in Separate Tables and Best Actress was awarded to Susan Hayward for her performance in I Want To Live!

Did you see what happened at the end of the awards?

No, I had to feed the baby and put him to sleep. I missed the last 30 minutes.

Well, I know something went wrong because the last 10 minutes the network cut from the awards to some old sports show. Probably just as well because it seemed like Jerry Lewis was running out of things to talk about.

I read in the paper yesterday the awards producer, Jerry Wald, being perhaps a little too paranoid the awards would be too lengthy, cut so many numbers from the show it ran 20 minutes too short.

Well, you may remember the show ran over its scheduled time last year and the producer received a great amount of criticism. Wald was just trying to keep that from happening again.

Regardless of the scheduling issues during the show, I feel South Pacific should have won Best Picture award in addition to the Best Sound Oscar.

Billie Jean was lying back in the titled saloon chair with her head under the warm, running water. It felt good when the beauty operator washed her hair. She liked the feeling of the womans hands running through her long, thick hair and massaging her scalp. She loved watching the Academy Awards. It was probably

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved her favorite show of the year. She enjoyed watching the awards show because she liked to imagine herself dressed in evening gown, walking on stage and accepting her award for Best Actress while Susan Hayward and the other actresses sat glumly in the audience, jealous of her achievement. Anyway, she agreed with the woman who wanted South Pacific to win Best Picture. The stimulating image of her and Joe lying on the warm beach in a sunny tropical island was very exciting. Maybe in a future Air Force assignment he would be stationed on an island, maybe even Hawaii. Billie Jean had never traveled further from home than Dallas. She could hardly imagine ever getting the chance to see Hawaii but, she was young and dreams were the stuff youth was made of. While Billie Jeans hair was drying she thought about Susan Haywards character in I Want To Live! She thought the actual woman whom Susan Hayward portrayed in the movie, Barbara Graham, probably deserved to be executed for the horrible crimes she committed. But, Billie Jean had not committed any crimes and she certainly wanted to live, especially for tonight. She was convinced she was in love with Joe, therefore she was ready to accept his proposal for marriage. She was also certain he was going to make his proposal tonight. Joes best friend Honey had mentioned to Johnny Bell, who mentioned to his friend Danny Dennis, who mentioned to his girlfriend Laura Ice, who mentioned to her best friend Billie Jean, Joes intent to propose tonight. For the last two years she and Joe had gone steady. Tonight was the night she had waited for since she could long remember. She was going to look her best. Joe was going to graduate high school in another month. Billie Jean knew he was joining the Air Force sometime in the fall. In the meantime, he was going on the annual wheat harvest immediately after graduation. She knew he would be traveling from wheat field to wheat field across Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, and North Dakota. He was going to drive a wheat harvester, or combine, harvesting turkey hard red winter wheat until next September. That was okay with her. She still had one more year of high school before she graduated. She wanted to get married but not before she graduated

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved high school. But to be engaged before Joe left to go far away gave her some assurance he would not forget about her while he was gone. It also gave her great confidence he would not look for another girl once he left town. Joe had lit a fire in her soul and she wanted assurance the fire would continue to burn brightly so he could find his way back to her.

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Saturday. Time to pick the vegetables from the spring truck garden. Everyone had to rise at the usual 5:00am and begin the morning ritual. Even when school was not in session, everyone still had to rise early. Spud headed for the smelly chicken house still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

As he passed by Joe he mumbled a sleepy Mornin.

Joe smiled, pulling the leather milking apron over his head as Spud walked by. He tied the apron around his waist. He was ten years older than Spud and knew Spud was devoted to him almost to the point of worshiping him. He put out a gentle hand and lovingly ruffled Spuds hair as he passed by. If only that bastard Frank were not present in their lives, how much better they all would be. Before Frank came into their lives, they were a loving family but, now everyone was afraid and Joe knew fear destroyed love. As affection melted in the face of fear, it was soon replaced by apprehension, gradually giving way to hate and a lack of respect. Joe knew this lack of respect eventually lead to loathing then revulsion. He did not understand why his mother could not see the path they were going down, a path leading to the certain destruction of her family. Many years later he reflected his mothers attitude was probably the manifestation of the selfish gene written about by Richard Dawkins, a biological theorist who taught at Oxford University, in his attempt to convince intellectuals the masses of the world, and everything else in it, can be explained through a gene-centric view of evolution. According to Dawkins, there was no God and

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved science was the only legitimate religion. Joes mother was manifestly interested in her welfare to the exclusion of her children but, Joe did not subscribe to the idea all life can be explained by selfish genes operating in a God-less world and eventually self-organizing into complex human beings. Nope, Dawkins was wrong about many things including a selfish gene being responsible for his plight as a teenager. Joe could sense the family cohesion coming apart and disintegrating. He tried several times to speak to his mother about the situation, but she would not hear any complaints about Frank. And why would she? Before she married him, she believed her six children, and especially the three boys, were becoming undisciplined rogues. Frank brought discipline into the household. Yes, she knew sometimes it was a brutal discipline but overall her sense of it was the children were more obedient now that Frank reigned supreme in the house. Joe felt she did not understand the difference between obedience due respect and love and obedience due fear and hate. Joe knew the difference. He was old enough to remember their father. He obeyed his father because he loved and respected him, not because he feared the career soldier would beat the holy hell out of him. But, Joe did not understand why his father, known as W.C., never came to visit even though W.C. always answered his letters. Anyway, Joe thought how unfortunate his mother did not recognize the difference between the two methods of engendering obedience in children. Joe knew without doubt her children would pay for her mistake for the rest of their lives. Children always paid for their parents mistakes but, parents seemed oblivious to the price children paid for those mistakes. Joe tended to think of his mothers decisions in terms of mistakes, and not sins. He knew divorce and re-marriage was always a mistake, but he was not certain it was a sin. In another month he was going to graduate high school then leave within a day or so for the annual wheat harvest. His Uncle Dee promised him a combine drivers job as soon as Joe could catch up with the traveling crew, probably in west Texas near Lubbock, but they might still be in central Texas in late May. He had not told Spud he was leaving. He just did not have the heart to tell him he

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved was leaving and essentially would never return. He felt some guilt leaving Spud to the mercy of the beast. What was Spud going to do when he found out Joe had left? He would probably cry his heart out but Joe just could not stay any longer. Either he or Frank would be dead before the summer ended if he did not leave as soon as he graduated. He had even spoken to the principal about the possibility of taking his tests early and leaving without attending the graduation ceremonies. The principal knew Joes predicament and was very sympathetic. Maybe he could leave the first of May instead of the end of May. Oh well. Time to go milk the cow. The day was going to be long enough and he was not going to let thoughts of Frank intrude anymore. He wanted to think about Billie Jean today and what he was going to do tonight. He reflected upon his drive to Gainesville last Saturday where he shopped for and bought the engagement ring he now carried in his pocket. It is was not an expensive ring, containing only one very small diamond set into a narrow gold band. Still, he had to visit both jeweler stores to insure he bought the best ring he could with the money he had saved the previous year doing odd jobs for the surrounding ranchers. The money he earned working for his uncles went into the kitty for clothing. Although working in the garden and gathering the ripe vegetables doubled their normal Saturday work, it was work eagerly performed for afterward they rode into town crowded into the back of the old Ford pick-up, freshly bathed and ready to enjoy Saturday night at the movie theater, or skating rink. By the time they finished picking the vegetables, cleaning and putting them into half-bushel and bushel baskets, it was usually around 3:00PM. Then it was a foot race to see who reached the bathing room first. There was no bathroom in the electrically challenged ranch house. There was a small room on the end of the rear porch, near the water well. Water was hand pumped from the well and heated on an nearby ancient wooden stove before it was poured into the old cast iron tub. Joe was the only one who did not race to the bathing room. He still had to perform the afternoon milking and besides, everyone had to wait until he was ready since he drove the old, black

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Ford pick-up into town filled with vegetables and kids of all ages. Sometimes a neighbor, or two, would ride their horse over to the ranch and catch a ride into town with them.

Im leaving for town, Joe announced from the front porch.

Seating assignments in the truck were more or less by age the older children getting first choice - but there was enough leeway to generate a mad scramble by everyone to be the first at the truck. Someone might change their mind and decide to sit in a spot reserved by someone else (younger) thereby upsetting the established seating chart which might be only one week old. The decision by an older individual to sit in a new spot always caused a re-shuffle in seating assignments. It was the trickle-down theory of seat assignments. Spud, being the youngest, usually sat wherever there was a little room to plonk his butt down, out of the wind-stream. Two fortunate individuals were allowed to ride in the cab with Joe. In summer, the older children preferred to ride outside where the rushing air kept the body a little cooler there was no air conditioner in the truck - unless there was an issue with hair but, in the winter the oldest kids always rode up front.

By the time they finished delivering the vegetables to the several grocers in town and a few families who bought fresh vegetables from the family, it was around 6:00PM. The skating rink opened at 6:30PM and the single screen indoor movie theater opened at 7:00PM.

Joe parked the pick-up on the square across from the movie theater.

Everybody going to the movie theater hop out now.

Everyone but Spud jumped from the back of the pick-up. Usually the skating rink won his hard-earned quarter for his evening entertainment.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Occasionally, if there was a really good movie, Joe would opt for the movie and as Spud was riding along, he had to go along. But, he preferred the skating rink because he always won the races for his age group. The winner received a free ticket to skate that included free skate rental so he always got to keep his quarter. If he went to the movie theater, he had to spend the quarter since the theater did not ever offer free tickets for any reason. Joes girlfriend and a couple of her friends were going to the skating rink so that was assurance Spud was, also. Joe always went where his girlfriend went and Spud always went where Joe went. As soon as everyone was safely away, Joe pulled away from the square and headed for the skating rink. The skating rink was on the outskirts of town on the north side on the road that went from town to Capps Corner. There were two roads that went out of town and toward the river. Both were paved with asphalt between the town and the bluff overlooking the river bottoms. Past the bluff both roads were just a dust storm waiting to splash thick red dirt all over any travelers passing by. The northern-most road took the dusty traveler to Capps Corner. The southern-most road took the traveler to Bulcher. There was a connecting dirt road between Bulcher and Capps Corner. So, we kind of traveled a circle, actually a triangle with the town the apex, when we came to town, arriving on the Bulcher road and leaving on the Capps Corner road. The skating rink was a long wooden rectangle, with low sides that reached a lofty peak in the center and covered by a tin roof. The buildings length was about ten times longer than its width. Customers parked outside in the dirt parking lot. The entrance included a foyer where small groups of individuals could crowd around the cash register, and pay the twenty-five cents to enter. Most kids came bearing their own roller skates, usually Christmas or birthday gifts. Spud was not so fortunate. He had to pay ten cents to rent a pair of skates. As Joe pulled into the parking lot, Spud who loved to skate more than any other form of entertainment, could not contain himself any longer. He jumped from the lowered pick-up tailgate where he sat. He was accustomed to this

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved practice, having perfected it while opening pasture gates for his oldest brother as they traveled from pasture to pasture feeding cows and horses. Joe stopped the pick-up next to the car his best friend was driving. Honey was sitting in the front seat of his parents red 1957 Chevy two door Two-Ten Delray Club Coupe. Joe whistled silently every time he saw that beautiful car. Those rear fins made the coupe look graceful and speedy. Two-ten coupes had sloping, full length strip moldings that split into a vertical wedge on the quarter panels. The wedges were painted to match the roof color on two-tone cars. The car Honey was driving was Matador red with a an India Ivory top. Joe thought of the old, black 1947 Ford his mother drove and just shook his head in a small gesture of envy and regret. Joe walked over to the passenger door, admiring those rear fins as he opened the door and slid onto the smooth Ivory vinyl seat. Honey glanced his way and offered a greeting.

Hey! You dont look like Frank beat you this week, Honey glibly voiced with a smooth touch of wry humor.

Honeys voice was a well modulated baritone, music to the girls ears just as his countenance was a feast to their eyes. It was no accident he was the lead singer in the local high school rock and roll band. Tall and muscled, with his thick, long, black hair, people said he looked like Elvis, Honey commanded attention wherever he went. If Honey played sports, he easily would have been the most popular boy in school. Fortunately for Joe, Honey was averse to risk, pain, and strenuous physical activities resulting in sweat. He gave up the top spot in school to Joe who played every sport. Not only did Joe play all the sports, he was also very good, especially in football and baseball. Joes football feats on the gridiron earned him the title of the most popular boy in the small school. Of course, Joe was as good-looking as Honey. The two of them together represented the towns

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved total heart throb for all females between the ages of who cannot do to who can do, and was willing to risk getting caught by boyfriends and husbands. Joe heaved a sigh of disgust. He hated talking about Frank, even with his best friend. From the rink he could hear Buddy Holly crooning Oh, Boy! Always popular with the teen crowd at the roller rink, Hot Smoke, the rink proprietor and pig farmer, seemed to be playing Hollys records more often since the awful crash in Iowa a little over two months ago. Most teens around town were still shocked by the death of Buddy, The Big Bopper, and Richie Valens. Listening to their records seemed to ease the shock and pain of their demise. It occurred to Joe the path of the wheat harvest would take him close to the crash site. He hoped he would be able to pay his respects and visit the soon-to-be fabled site. Not only were the music of those three popular but, also Elvis, Kingston Trio, Jo Stafford, Mills Brothers, Connie Francis, Bo Diddley, Ricky Nelson, Bill Haley & His Comets, Bobby Darin (especially Mack The Knife), Johnny Horton, Lloyd Price (everyone loved Stagger Lee), Frankie Avalon (Venus was the most popular song with the girls), and Joe and Lillie (Lucky Ladybug - Spuds favorite song) were very popular artists at the rink. Skating to the sounds of Rock and Roll while admittedly ephemeral was still almost a religious experience. Only the winged of foot could say what it was like to speed down the rink, the sinuous movement of the lower legs weaving to and fro to provide locomotion combined with the changing pressure of the big toe to provide the steering was thrilling to the senses while Rock and Roll moved the soul, both together touching the spirit as no southern Sunday morning Bible beater ever could. Yes, Spud was in heaven when he put on skates and stepped onto the hard wooden floor and pushed off with his right foot. From that moment onward, nothing and nobody could detract from his nirvana. He was at peace with the world for a few hours. Many kids liked to hang out in the gallery area and socialize but, not Spud. He waited all week for this moment and he was not going to waste a minute of it sitting down. The mellifluous music wafted through the long building giving the sense of skating in an extraordinary realm far from the emotional and physical

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved aches and pains of Franks abuse. At least that was how Spud thought of an evening spent at the electrifying skating rink. In the skating rink he was king; he was one of the best skaters in a four county area. Although he was only eight years old, Joe had been bringing him to the rink since he was about two years old. It seemed like he grew up riding horses with, not boots, but skating shoes strapped tightly across the bottom of his feet. And no one, not even the teenagers, could skate like he could. Skates gave him a keen sense of freedom from everything weighty in life. He was free to fly, and fly he did, for the five hours the rink was open. He always won the races for his age group so Hot Smoke let him move up an age group. When he consistently beat those older boys, Hot Smoke let him move up another age group. Now he was racing against 12-15 year olds. He almost won every one of those races, but he did lose once in awhile. But that was okay, for there were always two races for each age group. The first set of races were individual races. Afterwards, there were partner races where one person squatted on his hindquarters while another skater pushed him around the rink. Most partners failed to get around the first corner at the end of the rink due to centrifugal force pulling the squatter toward the outside of the rink causing collisions with the other racers. Spud never innately knew how to manage the centrifugal force by moving his outside skate further from his body while leaning in the opposite direction. As long as his partner could push fast enough to get to the turn first, they were sure to win for the competition was mostly left lying upon the wooden floor in a tangle of arms and legs in that first turn. To keep it fair, there were boy and girl races. Sometimes, to do something different, Hot Smoke would announce a push race for boys and girls. The girls were the squatters and the boys were the pushers. These races always generated the most number of competitors as the eager boys and girls were keen to touch each other in ways not always permissible. As Joe and Honey talked about the weeks activities Joe saw Billie Jean pull up in her parents Caddy. He sure liked that car. It was beautiful and it was much more fun to go parking with her in the new Caddy than in his mothers old

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved pick-up. Billie Jean always let him drive when they left the skating rink and drove over to Devils Backbone for some privacy. Billie Jean was still a virgin and Joe wanted her to stay a virgin until their honeymoon next year. But there were many things a young man and woman could do to entertain each other in the back seat of a new Coupe De Ville if there were no prying eyes around to distract them. Besides, tonight was the night he was going to ask Billie Jean to marry him. He was fairly certain she would say yes, but if she said no, he did not want to be around anyone who could hear her refusal so he was going to ask her only when they were alone and the Coup De Ville windows were covered in the foggy residue of their steamy love-making. Theres Billie Jean. Gotta go. See ya later tonight. And save some of the

hootch for me! Joe said as he pulled his lithe and muscular body from Honeys car.

Joes last thought before focusing on Billie Jean was he wished he had a car like Honeys. Honeys last thought was he wished he was as muscular and well-conditioned as Joe. But, he did not live on a ranch with all the attendant physical labors every day so, he contented himself with the thought that after Joe, he was the next most popular boy in the town and surrounding area. Joe walked up to the drivers side of the Caddy. Billie Jean had already moved over to allow him room under the steering wheel. As soon as he was sitting behind the wheel she moved to his side and when he turned to look at her, she gave him a deep and throaty kiss, full of love and promise, passion and desire. Joes reaction to the kiss was immediate. He slowly pulled away.

Jeez, Billie Jean. What if someone saw us kissing like that? It would be all over town. Joe looked her over starting with her long, beautiful hair, possessing so many curls he could not see where they were attached.

He thought it was obvious she went to the beauty shop today. Her hair was freshly washed and curled, the golden tresses falling in abundance down her

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved slim, feminine neck, spilling over her shoulders as if abandoned by the rest of her body. Joe noticed she was not wearing the usual pink poodle skirt she wore when skating. Tonight she was wearing a new skirt he had never seen before. It was a cotton checkerboard print falling just to the knee and sporting red, yellow, blue, green and black squares in a seemingly random order. The skirt was complemented by a wide black belt wrapped tightly around her svelte waist. She was wearing a black button-down blouse topped with a large collar which ran the entire length of the neckline. Billie Jeans busty chest literally thrust the blouse so far from her body Joe could not help but wonder how large her breasts were. Although he had touched them, he had never really seen them outside the confines of a bra. Billie Jean accessorized the striking outfit with black shoes, black handbag and a yellow ribbon in her hair. Joe knew she was the most beautiful girl in the county, but tonight she seemed to exceed that measure by such a distance words failed him. Nothing he could say would do justice to her haunting beauty so he just focused his attention on starting the Caddy and backing out of the parking lot.

Youre beautiful tonight. I mean, you are always beautiful but tonight you are exceptionally beautiful, gorgeous really, Joe stammered.

Thank you.

Are you ready to go parking?

Sure. Is Spud inside the rink? Billie Jean asked, He is going to be disappointed if he does not see me tonight so lets get back before the rink closes.

Joe started the Caddy. The huge engine hummed like the chorus of angels in heaven. What a beautiful car. Maybe he could afford one some day.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Joe smiled inwardly as the Caddy accelerated down the asphalt road toward the blackness of heaven, a special heaven reserved for lovers parking in the dark of night. Sometimes, Joe thought Spud loved Billie Jean more than he, if that was possible. And sometimes, he thought Billie Jean loved Spud more than him, but he was not jealous for he knew the power he exercised over Billie Jean and there was no competition.

Producing a light chuckle, Joe chortled, Hell, Billie Jean, if I do not get you back so you can spend a little time with Spud he will probably stab me in the heart while I am sleeping tonight.

Turning toward her, Joe smiled, I think I am a little jealous sometimes.

Billie Jean smiled at the thought of handsome Joe being jealous of his little brother. Well, he should be jealous because she could have any male between here and Dallas and probably all the way to Houston. He needed to be jealous of someone so he would give her the attention she deserved. Yes, even if his only competition was his little brother whom Billie Jean adored.

_____________________________________

Spud was inside the rink having the time of his young life. There was nothing he could not do while on those magic wheels. A much older skater passing trough town during a holiday had recently taught him how to skate on one leg, leaning forward with arms outstretched. And he learned to jump from the professional skater who was visiting relatives for a couple of weeks last year. Spud savored the time the two skaters spent together and he learned all the fellow would teach him in a few sessions. Now Spud went around the rink time and again jumping and twirling just as he was taught. It was exhilarating to fly through the air while the sounds of music spilled from the huge speakers

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved located at the corners of the rink, filling the air with good vibrations. It was good to be alive. It was good to be far from Frank. ___________________________________________________

Joe drove over to the Devils Backbone for his evening socializing with Billie Jean. All the other teenagers drove the four miles from the rink to Katy Lake for their parking pleasures. No one drove out to Devils Backbone, an eight mile drive from the rink, which is why Joe chose the secluded are for parking. Billie Jean was snuggled up against his right side with her head lying lightly on his shoulder. The purr of the engine and the darkness of night put her in a reflective mood. She thought of the past three months especially the special night when she decided to let Joe go farther than the usual teenage necking kissing, and playing with her legs, but never higher than her stockings, they indulged in. Even before she left home that night, she decided she was going to let Joe unbutton her blouse and play with her breasts. Her breasts were not huge by any measure, but they were ample, firm with small, round pink nipples without blemish. Every time she looked at herself in the mirror, she was amused to think the small horizontal slits on the end of the nipples looked like small eyes looking back at her. She was not positive but she suspected Joe ejaculated when he first touched her breasts. She felt him stiffen momentarily at the same time he emitted a low moan and remained motionless for perhaps 45 seconds. Afterward, he massaged her breasts for a long time. She lay with her head back on the front bench seat of the Caddy. She thought both of them deserved a special night together. It was the anniversary of their 18 months of dating and she was driving her daddys brand new Caddy. She felt she had reason to elevate their relationship to a new understanding, to a new level of commitment between them. She also let Joe move his hot, roving hands beyond the edge of her stockings but she clamped her legs hard tight when he was within a half inch of heaven. She was not prepared to go that far, yet. Not that she was a prude, she

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved was just overwhelmed by the new sensations flooding her young and vivacious body. She was afraid she would go too far, too soon and become pregnant. She knew getting pregnant would destroy her reputation and force her to stop her education. And the unfortunate condition would bring shame to her mother and father. Since that night she thought of sex constantly. The memory of those first really sexual feelings she had ever experienced were burned deep in her memory and she was sure she would never forget what it felt like to neck to the edge of infinity with this strong, handsome, popular man. Her body was not forgetting, either. Every time she thought of Joe she started flowing. Before those hot nights last fall when she first let him go a little further, she could think of him and flow a little, as a small stream. Now, she flowed like a river. The first time it happened she was in school the following Monday. Not really paying attention to the dull History lecture, she started daydreaming about Joe. In just a few moments the daydream without any conscious effort upon her part took her back to the previous Saturday night. Joe had started kissing her low on the neck; not really a kiss but a hybridized cross between a kiss and a bite and a suck. And it was not just any kiss-bite-suck. He gently nibbled her sternocleidomastoid muscle in his mouth, rolling the muscle between his teeth, the muscle held in place by a gentle bite while sucking at the same time. He started at the base of the muscle where it attached to the collar bone and slowly worked his way up the length of the muscle where it was attached to the skull. He was expert at this unusual petting maneuver. He would start the nibbling after they had kissed for awhile; deep, long-lasting kisses that set her heart and body aflame with desire, flames that made the blood burn, and the hot kisses made other liquids flow in a place down there - below her belly button; in that region of her body she knew so little about. She could not say where this mucous-looking flow came from, other than it seemed to originate deep in her body and find its way to the entrance to her vagina. It seemed to originate in the same place she experienced pleasant muscle contractions, about midway between her belly button and down there.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved She was smart to wear a sanitary napkin every time she dated Joe. She knew other girls who forgot to wear a napkin and later the backside of their dress was stained with a broad, wet spot. She was never going to be embarrassed by such a display of public indecency, so she always carried a pad in her purse. By the time Joes incredible hot, sucking, kissing mouth reached the base of her skull, she was flowing heavily, escaping into some dream-like world where the only sensation was electrifying, her skin, and especially her nipples and clitoris sensitive to the lightest touch, a result of the powerful sex hormones now rushing through her body. (The school nurse had educated her health class about sex hormones when she was in the eighth grade.) When Joe reached the end of the muscle, he moved his mouth to her ear. At first he nibbled like a rabbit on the outer lobe, very lightly with his teeth and his lips. Again it was a biting-sucking combination and it was like he set off rockets inside her. She was feeling wonderful hot flashes of excitement coursing through her body, every inch wanting to be touched, kissed, nibbled, sucked hard. Her nipples became very hard, pushing up against her bra. Sometimes, if Joe was slow getting to her ear, she could feel small amounts of moisture leaking from her nipples. She knew to expect this so she also wore breast pads under her bra to keep the moisture from staining her blouse and calling attention to her predicament. Also, she could feel the blood flowing to her private area, engorging her pussy lips and her clitoris. Billie Jean was sitting in the History class re-living the moments when Joes strong ranch hands first touched her nipples, oblivious to the teacher calling her name. She did not realize she was flowing like a river and the back of her dress was wet from the waist to the hem almost at her knee when Mr. Simpson slammed his History book down on her desk. She jumped like a sleeping jackrabbit suddenly caught by a hungry hound.

Billie Jean! Are you going to join our class today? Mr. Simpson demanded.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Im sorry, sir, she hastily responded, embarrassed to be singled out in the small classroom and hoping no one guessed why she was off in her own world inhabited by warm, sensitive hands and hard, tingling nipples.

Well, you better pay attention, young lady. This material in going to be on Fridays weekly test.

Yes, sir, she meekly said, hoping he would now move back to the front of the class and leave her to die of embarrassment in her seat.

As soon as Mr. Simpson turned around, she felt the sticky wetness of her dress. She wanted to just magically disappear. How was she going to get out of her predicament? There was no way she could let other students, especially male students, see her embarrassingly wet dress. Everyone would probably think she peed in her panties sitting at her desk. She thought for several minutes and decided on a subterfuge by enlisting the help of her best friend. Her best friend Judy set across the aisle from her. She pulled out a piece of paper and wrote, I just started my period and it is a heavy flow. I think I may have stained my dress. Will you stay after the bell rings and draw Mr. Simpson into a discussion of todays lecture while I walk behind you? After I get out of the door, please walk behind me until we get to the restroom. Then she folded the note, wrote Private on the outside and passed it to Judy, when Mr. Simpson was not looking. udy received the note from Billie Jean and opened it. Brian was sitting behind Judy and saw the note passing. When Judy unfolded the note and started to read it, she felt Brians smelly breath on the back of her neck, making her skin crawl. She quickly turned the note over so he could not read it just as Mr. Simpson looked around and saw Brian leaning over Judys shoulder.

Mr. Taylor! Mr. Simpson shouted. All students turned and looked at Brian who slowly settled back in his seat. What are you doing, pray tell.

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I saw Billie Jean pass Judy a note and I was just trying to read what it said when Judy opened it.

Billie Jean thought she was going to drop dead of a heart attack right then. She turned bright red, her cheeks flushed with blood.

Okay Judy, let me have the note. Mr. Simpson walked back down the aisle to stand beside Judy.

To Billie Jeans amazement, Judy refused to give him the note.

Judy, give me the note.

No, sir, She repeated.

The entire class of 24 eleventh grade students were awestruck. In their existence as school students, not one had ever refused the request of a teacher. Not only had they never refused a request, they had never witnessed anyone else refuse a request. It was unheard of. It wasan incredible act of defiance.

Mr. Simpson stood silent for a moment. His lips pursed as he thought what the best course of action would be. Finally, he decided.

Go to the Principals office.

Judy stood up, her shoulders square, head up, proud she was defiant and protecting her best friend. She walked out of the classroom without another exchange between her and Mr. Simpson. After Judy left the classroom she slowly walked down the hallway. She was not going to show the note to the male school principal. What could she do?

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved She wanted to help her best friend but she did not know what to do. Then she walked by the nurses office. That was it. She would speak to the nurse about the situation. The nurse would understand and she could speak to the teacher and the principal. Judy opened the door and stepped into the nurses office. Mrs. Padgett was a registered nurse who had worked for the school district for ten years. There was not much she had not seen when it came to teenagers and health issues. She was also responsible for teaching the eighth grade health class to gender-segregated classes. She thought she had heard it all from the mouths of innocent teenagers. However, she was caught by surprise during health class this year. She was giving a lecture on personal hygiene and was stunned when a boy asked her if people could get syphilis from a cow. When she asked for clarification, the boy asked if people could get syphilis from sexual intercourse with cows. After the snickering died down, she informed the miscreant that males could not get syphilis from cows, or horses. Yep, she had heard it all.

What can I do for you, Judy? she asked politely.

Judy handed Billie Jeans note to Mrs. Padgett then explained her refusal to give it to Mr. Simpson. After reading the note, Mrs. Padgett pushed her glasses further up her long nose. She thought of all the times in her youth when she had to deal with the same issue.

Okay, dear. Wait here until class is almost over then we will walk back to the classroom. We will go right before the bell rings. Then I will get Mr. Simpson out of the classroom and bring him here for an explanation but I will not tell him exactly what the problem is. I do not want to embarrass Billie Jean. After Mr. Simpson leaves the classroom, then you walk behind Billie Jean to the girls restroom. I will meet you there.

Judy readily nodded her head she understood.

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After a twenty minute wait, Mrs. Padgett and Judy went to Mr. Simpsons classroom and executed her plan to perfection. In the Nurses Office, Mrs. Padgett explained there was a personal female problem and Judy was just trying to protect the privacy of her friend. Mr. Simpson, wise in the way of girls and nurses, mumbled his acceptance of the explanation, while thinking females always got out of trouble using that time-worn excuse. After everyone left the classroom, Billie Jean walked out with Judy walking behind her and covering up the large wet spot on the rear of her dress. The students in the hallway, talking and laughing, glanced quizzically at the two walking so strangely to the girls bathroom. Billie Jean and Judy stayed in a stall in the girls bathroom until the next bell signaled students to be seated in their next class. In a few minutes Mrs. Padgett appeared and told Billie Jean she would give her a ride home. As there was only one more class, Mrs. Padgett gave her a note for missing the last two classes. Mr. Rexrode, the stern and imposing principal of the high school, was startled when he walked out of his office and saw two female students he recognized and the nurse walking down the sidewalk toward the teachers parking lot. He stood at the double-wide doorway and watched Mrs. Padgett and one student get into the nurses car. The other student waved then turned around and started back to the school entrance. Another female student unexpectedly had her period, he surmised, as he turned and walked down the hallway toward the mens room. When would these young girls learn to be prepared for these eventualities? Perhaps, he should speak to the nurse later about teaching the girls in health class to be better prepared. _____________________________________________

When Joe drove the Caddy away from the rink he noted with approval Billie Jean already had the radio tuned to KSYD, a popular rock and roll station in Wichita Falls. Snuff Garrett was the night deejay and he always played the best

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved rock and roll. He claimed he knew Buddy Holly personally and was the first deejay to play Peggy Sue. On the day the music died, 3 February 1959, he was the only deejay in the country to devote his entire evening show to the music stars Buddy Holly, J.P The Big Bopper Richardson, and Richie Valens. He played their music, conducted interviews and spoke nostalgically about the artists contribution to the countrys music heritage. The teenagers within range of the radio station were slavishly loyal fans because of Snuffs commitment to the burgeoning rock and roll music industry. On Friday and Saturday nights teenagers loved to listen to his radio show because he was still a teenager himself and he knew what music teenagers wanted to hear when parked in dark corners of the surrounding countryside. They did not want to hear Bo Didley singing Hey Man while in the throes of passionate necking. They wanted to hear the soft sounds of Dion And The Belmonts A Teenager In Love, Paul Ankas Put Your Head On My Shoulder, Sam Cookes Only Sixteen, The Drifters There Goes My Baby, and The Crests singing 16 Candles. Snuff Garrett knew what made teenagers tick. Joe slowed the Caddy as he approached the turn-off to Devils Backbone. The braking brought Billie Jean out of her reverie. She was already wet with anticipation. She wondered what Joe thought and if he suspected he was going to get the cats meow, but only after he proposed to her. Joe turned the Caddy down the narrow lane. His thoughts were not on the cats meow. He was thinking about the reaction Billie Jean was going to have when he told her he was leaving tomorrow. He went over and over in his mind the arguments he was going to use to buttress his decision to leave tomorrow. Regardless of his arguments, he was certain Billie Jean was going to oppose his desire to escape Frank as soon as possible. And as soon as possible was tomorrow. Joe pulled the Caddy into the small parking area underneath Devils Backbone, a tall, massive rock, left standing on the southern edge of the river valley, when the river changed course several million years ago. After killing the engine, he turned toward Billie Jean who eagerly embraced and kissed him a

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved deep, long, tongue-twisting kiss that seemed to last forever. Somewhere between the kiss and forever, Joes hands started moving over the back of Billie Jean neck, his fingers kneading her muscles like they were filaments of dough, giving her a gentle massage which made the juices flow. Moaning, she pressed closer to Joe, putting her hands around his shoulders and pulling him to her. Joe sensed Billie Jean was especially romantic tonight but he had something on his mind.

Pulling away from Billie Jean, he murmured, I want to ask you something.

She opened her eyes and looked at him expectantly.

Joe reached into his pants pocket and pulled something out but it was too dark for her to ascertain what the object was. She hoped it was an engagement ring but, she said nothing. Joe leaned over and turned the interior light on, momentarily blinding both of them. When Joe could see again, he open a small box and retrieved a diamond ring set in a beautiful gold band. Billie Jean gasped when she saw the gorgeous ring. She thought Joe could only afford something very inexpensive but this ring was not so.

Looking at Billie Jean, Joe asked, I know, and you know, I love you with all my heart. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?

Billie Jean had rehearsed her answer to this question many times but at the crucial moment, words left her. She felt her throat close and no sound could escape the tightly constricted vocal cords. All she could do was shake her head yes as the tears started cascading down her cheeks and raining on her new blouse. She removed a handkerchief she carried in her purse and dabbed her eyes. Then she held out her left hand while Joe slipped the ring onto her ring finger. It was a perfect fit.

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Your mother told me your ring size, Joe explained.

Billie Jean admired the sparkling ring on her svelte finger. Something in the glittering fire of the round brilliant cut diamond set her heart speeding, and the adrenaline rushing through her body. For a moment she felt unduly hot and thought she was going to faint. At the same moment the diamond gave off a particularly brilliant twinkle - The Fleetwoods were singing Come Softly To Me she threw caution out the window and decided she would go all the way with Joe tonight. It was time for her to show him just how much she loved him.

Please turn out the light, she asked as she moved over and put her arms around Joe.

In a moment they were in the throes of teenage passion. Joes usual attention to Billie Jeans neck while deep kissing raised her level of desire to new heights. She was pressing herself against Joe with obvious yearning Joe could not miss. When Joe started moving his right hand up Billie Jeans leg, she did not close her thighs. Joe was surprised when he did not feel the firm clamp of her legs against his hand. Boldly, he slowly moved higher, far beyond the end of her stocking. The feeling of her bare thigh excited him almost beyond control. He was hard and ready, but he knew he had to stop before he touched the heart of the prize. Still, the now frantic kissing was having its effect. He decided to go for it and moved his hand further up than ever before. He immediately touched Billie Jeans panties, noting somewhere in his seemingly strange brain they were surprisingly wet. When his hand touched her panties, Billie Jean moaned a deep, mournful sound coming from the depths of her soul while her back arched and sharp but very pleasant waves of pleasure crashed over her body. She had never felt like this before. Just the touch of Joes hand upon her panty-covered pussy made her orgasm. As soon as the most powerful waves subsided, she reached down and

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved tried to unzip Joes pants but she was not accustomed to this particular maneuver and struggled for a several seconds before she was rewarded with the sound of the zipper coming down. She reached inside his underwear and put her hand around his rock hard penis while Joe slid his index finger around the edge of her panties and found her wet and ready vagina. Just as he slipped his finger inside , another spasm of waves crashed over her and she momentarily let go of consciousness but not before she dimly noted he was thrusting against her leg in a strange way, making his own moaning noises, and something warm and sticky was spreading over her hand inside his pants. In a moment both of them calmed down enough to realize what they were doing. Both were breathing very hard, almost gasping for air like a landed fish. Billie Jean lay back on the seat, pulling Joe on top of her. She pulled up her dress and as she started pulling Joes trouser down, he put his hand on her hand to stop her effort.

What are you doing? he asked in a voice both strong and full of stress.

I am ready to make love. Billie Jean stated matter-of-factly. I want this to be our special night together.

Billie Jean expected Joe to be pleased. She was shocked when he suddenly sat up and moved over to the drivers side of the seat. She sat up, unaware of her open blouse and disarrayed bra.

Whats the matter? she asked innocently. She thought Joe would be pleased to have her tonight and she was disconcerted and confused by his ambivalence.

If you are worried about getting me pregnant, I have a rubber. she said meekly.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved She prepared for this night when she asked a married girlfriend a few days ago to get her a rubber. The unfamiliar device was in her purse, waiting for tonight.

Joe looked over at Billie Jean while he zipped his trousers up. Although she could not see the look of love on his countenance, she could feel the love emanating from him like the heat radiating from a warm stove during a cold winter night. And his love gave her a comforting feeling just like the warm stove did, but a different kind of comforting feeling. The stove heated her skin and her brain was satisfied but Joes love heated her soul and her spirit was satisfied. Joe was thinking how he could tell her he was leaving tomorrow and he did not want to make love tonight when he might never see her again. Working the wheat harvest had its hazards and occasionally a worker was killed. How could he take her virginity tonight and leave tomorrow? What kind of man would he be? A morally reprehensible jerk, a user of women, he felt; the worst kind of man and not the kind of man he wanted to be.

Darlin, you know I love you with all my heart and there is nothing more I want to do than make love to you. But, I am not going to do it like this, not tonight. I want our first time to be extra special and I want it to be when we can have more time together. I want it to be on our honeymoon.

Billie Jean was listening to Joe but while he was talking, the passion was being replaced by a deep sense of rejection. With a sense of rejection, came a feeling of anger.

We have time tonight and we will have next weekend and every weekend between now and summer. she pouted.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Joe was in a quandary. He planned to tell Billie Jean his plans but to disclose them now might be disastrous. He was not sure what to do. Billie Jean noted his silence and was still confused but the anger was building steadily.

She thought it embarrassing to be in this predicament. It was as embarrassing as having a stained dress in school. No, it was worse, she decided. It was the most embarrassing moment of her young life.

Billie Jean, I have something to tell you. I was going to tell you later tonight but I think now is the appropriate time. I am planning to leave tomorrow for Bonham. Uncle Dee wants me to be there Monday to start work preparing for the wheat harvest.

Billie Jean was silent, starring out the Caddy windshield into the darkness of her soul. She did not understand how she could go from light to darkness in an instant. She felt betrayed in a strange sense. She had offered her body to Joe and he rejected her virginal offer. Her virginity was the most precious commodity she could give him and he did not want it. What did this really mean? Did it mean he also rejected her? Even after he gave her an engagement ring? Did this mean they were no longer engaged? All the while the anger was building until it felt like it was going to boil over like an untended kettle and soil the new seats of the Caddy. Billie Jean was a product of her time and place. She incorrectly assumed, as all females of age did, every male wanted only one thing and that was to get as much pussy as he could, without regard for his partners feelings.

Now, when she was ready, as ready as she would ever be, Joes reluctance to make love caused her carefully constructed ideas of male-female relationships to tumble down like a set of wooden blocks - formed into the shape of a beautiful house - kicked over by an uncooperative boy.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Joe was aghast at the results of his faux move to keep Billie Jeans virginity intact. Given a little thought, he assumed she would admire his selfdiscipline. In an attempt to salvage something of the evening and perhaps rectify his apparent mistake, he tried to take her hand, but she pushed his hand away.

Just take me back to the rink. a very sullen Billie Jean stated as she angrily snatched her bra into position and started buttoning her blouse.

Joe slumped his shoulders in defeat, started the Caddy, turned around and headed back to the rink. He tried once or twice to speak to Billie Jean but she remained as far over on the passenger side as she could without falling out of the door and stared out into the dark void.

All the way to the rink, Billie Jean used all the self-control she possessed to keep from crying, but a few tears fell silently upon her hands as she sat with them folded in her lap. She had never been so angry before in her life and she just did not trust herself to speak right now. She was afraid she would say something she would regret later. She was certain she would say something she would regret so it was better to say nothing. She just wanted to get home as soon as possible, throw herself onto her bed, hug her teddy, and cry her heart out. Joe and Billie Jean returned to the skating rink around 10:00 pm. When they arrived back at the rink, Joe parked on the outer edge of the crowded parking lot. He thought Billie Jean, silent during the entire drive back, was going to go into the rink with him. But she scooted over to get behind the steering wheel when he opened the door and got out. Giving a curt goodbye, she started the engine and was pulling out of the parking area almost before Joe could close the door. To emphasize her displeasure, she spun the Caddys tires in the dirt as it gained speed, causing it to dramatically sway to and fro in the parking lot; and when the tires went from dirt to asphalt there was considerable squealing. Joe shrugged his shoulders, turned and walked into the rink.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Joe was thinking he never had the chance to tell her why he was going to start work at the very beginning of the wheat harvest, when the owner-operators of the large combine harvesters and supporting equipment began preparing for the harvest which usually started in the middle of May. The equipment, including harvesters for reaping the winter wheat, semi-trucks and trailers to haul the grain to the local granaries, several pick-ups towing caravans, and other miscellaneous vehicles all required maintenance in preparation for the long harvesting season. The crew would start the wheat harvest in south-west Texas around 15 May and finish in North Dakota, or Canada, in late September or early October. By the time they drove back to Bonham, it would be the middle of October before she saw him again. Joe wanted to tell her he had no choice but to leave. Frank was storming around telling anyone who would listen he was going to kill Joe. Driving back to town, Billie Jean thought about what Joe said concerning leaving tomorrow to go to his Uncle Dees place in Bonham. So, Joe was not going to take her to the high school prom next weekend and he was not going to graduate high school. She did not want him leaving now, just as they were engaged and before the Junior-Senior prom, and graduation. The more she thought about their situation the madder she became until she felt she was furious. The tears had stopped flowing before they arrived at the rink. Now she was so angry her tears were bottled up for the time being. When Spud saw Joe enter the rink he could tell something was wrong. Joe was always carefree, laughing and enjoying life, unless Frank was nearby. Now, Spud could see Joe was projecting a somber mood. So could many other kids who knew this gridiron and baseball hero. Almost immediately a crowd gathered around him. Most kids knew he was supposed to propose to Billie Jean tonight and from his countenance they thought she must have refused. Joe pushed his way through the crowd, refusing to answer their questions, until he came to the rail separating the skaters from the gallery. He waved Spud over.

Hey, Spud! Is it okay if we go home early tonight? he asked.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Sure. Give me a couple of minutes to get these skates off. Spud hated to leave skating early but he never disputed anything his brother wanted, not because he was afraid of his brother, but because he loved and respected him and knew he must have a good reason to want to leave early. It was an unusual night for they seldom left the rink early. Billie Jean arrived in the center of town. Instead of driving around the square and continuing home she circled the square a few times, trying to decide if she should return to the rink and talk to Joe. She was still mad but she loved him very much and did not want their night to end like this. Maybe if she hung out at the square for awhile and talked to friends she would calm down. Then she could return to the rink and try to talk with Joe. While she was driving around the square her best friend Judy pulled into a parking spot. Billie Jean parked in an adjacent empty spot. Judy saw her friend alone and thought something terrible must have happened if she was driving around town so early in the evening without her boyfriend in tow. Her curiosity piqued, she jumped out of her dads car and crowded into the Caddy.

Hey girl! Why arent you with Joe? Is something wrong?

Suddenly, the bottle was uncorked and the tears rained down like the great flood of Noahs time. Judy reached over and pulled Billie Jean to her. She held a sobbing Billie Jean for a long time and said nothing, just letting the tears flow. Judy thought she was upset because Joe did not propose to her. Then she noticed the engagement ring on her left hand.

Well, Billie Jean will tell me what the problem is soon enough, she thought as Billie Jean reached into her purse and pulled out her handkerchief.

For a brief moment, Judy thought she saw a condom still in its wrapper.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Apparently, Billie Jean planned to make love to Joe tonight, she mused, But it appears he did not get any, unless Billie Jean had more than one condom.

Judy was mildly amused at the thought of her best friend losing her virginity tonight. Although she never told Billie Jean, she lost her virginity last summer when her family went to Florida for summer vacation.

After Billie Jean had a bountiful cry, she sat in the Caddy with a good case of the sniffles and told Judy what happened; how Joe rejected her when she offered to make love to him. She felt crushed, defeated, angry, and hurt. They sat talking for about an hour when a couple of classmates came up and asked if they were going to the races out near the bluff. Billie Jean really did not feel like going, but it was still too early to show up at the house her parents would still be awake and they would want to know why she was home early and she did not want to explain anything to them. They probably would not be very sympathetic if they knew she was humping, or at least trying to, some boy in the back seat of the Caddy. So, she made a fatal decision to accompany her friends to the races. All the other kids crowded around to hear what Joe was saying, hoping to discover why he came into the skating rink alone. But Joe was stoic, refusing to talk about Billie Jean or the evenings events. Soon Spud had his boots on and the skates back on the counter. Hot Smoke gave Spud a wave as he turned around and put the skates into one of the many cubbyholes especially built to hold the many skates Hot Smoke rented to skaters not possessing their own skates. Spud and Joe moved toward the door. Finally Joe turned around and told the still following crowd he proposed to Billie Jean and she accepted. Although there was a sense of suspense regarding Joes attitude and lack of Billie Jeans presence, his multitude of friends gave a cheer and wished him well as we left the rink.

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Hey Spud, I want to go into town and see if Billie Jean is hanging out at the square.

Spud was quiet. Something was bothering Joe and Spud did not want to intrude into his thoughts. Anyway, Joe would tell Spud what was bothering him if and when he thought it best. And Spud never wanted to miss an opportunity to see Billie Jean.

Okay.

The square was an open area in the middle of downtown. Originally a place to water and feed horses during the days when Saint Jo was one of the last watering holes on the Chisholm Trail, the towns proprietors had built their offices, stores, and saloons a good distance around the grassy area. Now it served as a small park in the middle of town and as a popular gathering place for young people, especially after the nearby indoor movie theater let out around 10:00 pm. Joe drove down the road until he came upon the Missouri, Kansas, Texas called the K-T, or just the Katy - railroad tracks just off downtown on the north side of the square. A Katy freight train was slowly passing by. Joe and Spud sat in the darkness each with his own thoughts with nothing but the clickety-clack of the trains wheels striking the iron rails, the creaking of the various train cars as they groaned their way into the distant darkness and the purring of the pick-up engine to keep them company. Joe was certain if Billie Jean gave his predicament some thought she would agree with him leaving now was the best for him and therefore for her, also. He had to get away from Frank; leaving on the wheat harvest was the perfect opportunity. He could save his earnings and have money in the bank next fall when he planned to enlist in the Air Force. Joe was certain he could convince Billie Jean this was the best course for their future, if only this damn train would get out of the way so he could catch up with her at the

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved square. He was certain that is where she would be and he wanted to resolve the issue tonight. After the movie theater and skating rink closed, most of the teenagers hung out around the square until time to go home, usually by 1:00 AM on Saturday nights. Joe was sure Billie Jean would be somewhere around the square chatting with her friends. Finally the trains caboose came into sight seemingly taking forever, finally passed the crossing. Joe slammed the accelerator of the old pick-up down to the floor and it leapt forward like one of the stallions that had been hot-shotted. Joe gave a light laugh. He did not know the old truck still had some life left in it since he always treated it like it was an old derelict machine. It looked like one. It was almost 11:00 pm by the time Joe reached the square. As he drove around the large circle the square was just called the square; it was actually round he finally say the Caddy. Parking the truck nearby, he jumped out and ran over to the Caddy. He soon returned to the pick-up, gloomily starting the truck and putting it in gear before he began speaking.

Billie Jean left with Judy. They are going out to the bluff and watch the drag races. Okay with you if we go out there and see if I can talk to her?

Sure, Joe, Spud said with telltale pain in his voice. He was hurt that the two people most important people in his tortured life, people whom he worshipped, were having a dispute.

Okay little buddy. I am going to make everything right with Billie Jean. Dont you worry about her and I. We are going to be okay. How about you? You going to be okay?

Spud just nodded his head in a vague way. No, he was not certain he was going to be okay. If Joe and Billie Jean broke up, it would amount to perhaps the biggest disaster in his young life. The thought brought a single tear to his cheek. As inconspicuous as possible, he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved A plan was coming together in Joes mind. Hot Smoke owned the busy feed store in town supplying all the local ranchers their ranch supplies. He previously offered Joe a job working on weekends. It was hard labor unloading freight cars filled with 100 pound sacks of cow and horse feed by hand, but the pay was decent. Hot Smoke also had work after school performing various chores in the several businesses he owned and operated. The money would be enough for him to rent a small bedroom in town so he could escape Franks abuse. He had to get away from Frank which was the real reason he was going to Uncle Dees place in Bonham. He had already decided the next time Frank struck him, or Spud, he was going to kill the bastard. God, how he hated the evil creature. Frank was the only person Joe hated and the only person he hoped something evil would befall him. Joe speedily headed for the bluff. Spud never knew Joe to drive the pickup so fast. Usually Joe was a paragon of safety when driving. Tonight he was in a hurry. The road out of town was paved with asphalt as far as the bluff. The highway was flat and straight the last two miles before plunging down the bluff into the valley of the Red River. The road was familiar to Joe and Spud as this was the way into town from the ranch. As Joe and Spud came upon the starting point for the customary weekend drag races, it seemed something was wrong. There were no people around the cars parked alongside the road. Joe continued driving straight ahead until running teenagers came in to view. It was dark. Darker than people can remember. There were no big city lights lighting the sky; the moon was waxing crescent but was not going to be out for another few hours. All Joe could see were people running ahead as fast as they could. Soon he began passing teenagers who shouted out as they ran. Creeping forward slowly so he did not strike anyone, he suddenly understood why they were running. Off to the side, a car lay on its top, wheels still slowly spinning. Ahead there was a form lying in the road. Joe stopped the truck and both he and Spud jumped out.

Hey, Spud, stay back, Joe commanded as he ran forward.

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Honey isnt moving. I think he may be dead. Spud overheard a teenager say to his female companion as they walked by. A sudden gasp forced its way from somewhere deep within Spuds small chest. Honey dead? Oh, what a terrible night. First Joe and Billie Jean getting into a fight and breaking up, and now the beloved Honey lying in the middle of the road dead. Soon, Joe came walking back toward Spud. Billie Jean was walking beside Joe. Both of them came to the pick-up where Joe parked it still in the roadway.

Spud grinned. Hi, Billie Jean! Spud was so pleased to see Billie Jean with Joe he momentarily forgot about Honey. Then he remembered.

Hey, Joe, is Honey okay? Spud inquired.

Hes hurt pretty bad but, he will probably be okay in a few days.

In the distance, they could see several cars coming from town. Spud hopped into the back of the pick-up, expecting Billie Jean to get in the pickup with Joe. Joe and Billie Jean stood alongside the pick-up for a few moments whispering before Billie Jean began walking away from the pick-up. It was obvious she was very distraught. Spud hoped Joe told her of his plan to stay in town and work until graduation. Billie Jean had taken a few steps away from the pick-up before she remembered Spud was watching from the back of the pick-up. She stopped, her head bowed and her shoulders shrunk into the depths of her grief. From a reserve of strength she nurtured in misfortune, she straightened her shoulders, pulled her chin up, then turned around and came back to the pick-up as Joe was moving around the rear of the truck preparatory to getting into the drivers side.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved She walked past him and came to the back where Spud was still peering around the side of the truck in wide-eyed wonder. Spud was sitting on the open tailgate, his favorite perch. Billie Jean walked up to him and asked if she could give him a kiss. Spud thought being kissed by Billie Jean was like being kissed by an angel; a beautiful, sweet, warm, tender angel who smelled very good. Spud scrambled over to the side of the pick-up nearest the center of the roadway. Billie Jean stepped up and gave him a long, loving buss on his cheek. Spud was so jealous of Joe. He wished he could marry Billie Jean. He would take good care of her and insure she never came to any harm and make her happy the rest of her life. He would do anything she asked of him, anything. If only he was older.

I love you, Spud. Goodbye

Spud was speechless. He desperately wanted to tell Billie Jean how much he loved her but no words came out. He could only nod his head silently, acknowledging the comment. He could not even manage a goodbye. He knew he was Billie Jeans favorite kid, but he did not know she loved him just as much as he loved her. No, love was not the correct expression. If he had been a few years older he would have recognized his feeling for Billie Jean had surpassed love to become something much deeper and greater. He worshipped her just like he worshipped Joe. They were Zeus and Hera, god and goddess in his screwed up world of abuse. Spud sat back on the tailgate, certain of his love, an innocent love held in the small but, strong heart of a eight year old boy. It was still a perfect heart and it was a perfect love, free of expectations and demands.

How is Honey? Someone though he was injured real bad. Spud called as she walked away.

He did not know if Billie Jean and Joe had reconciled, and he wanted to hear her voice one more time. It might be the last time he ever heard it.

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Billie Jean paused and turned back toward him. Hes okay, Spud. He just has a few scrapes, but Bruce Weed is in pretty bad shape. Jerry McGill is driving over to the Dennis farm. He is going to call an ambulance. See you later.

Billie Jean turned toward town, intent on walking back to her friends car. She was too upset by all the nights events and did not want to ride back to town with Joe. Anyway, he was already halfway home here and it was just an inconvenience for him to drive her back to town. She was looking down at the asphalt, not paying attention when she suddenly heard people screaming. By the time she looked up and recognized the speeding car heading toward her it was too late for her to do anything but offer a one word prayer. The drunk driver of the speeding 1955 Studebaker never saw Billie Jean until she was looming large in his windshield. In a final desperate attempt to avoid hitting her he swerved to his left. Unfortunately, the sudden turn of the steering wheel caused the car to slide sideways; the sliding initiated the roll. The last thing he saw was Billie Jean looking at him from the passenger seat window. The last thing Billie Jean ever saw as she looked back over her shoulder was Spud standing on the tailgate, hands outstretched toward her like he was trying to pull her out of the way of the heavy car, horror splashed over his face. The screaming teenagers and the screeching tires brought Joe out of the pick-up just a moment before the rolling Studebaker slammed into the pick-ups passenger side. Fortunately, Joe was near the rear of the pick-up and out of the way when he saw Spud fly overhead. The speeding Studebaker, after one rollover, hit the pick-up so hard it knocked the truck off the roadway, at the same time flipping Spud high into the air. He tumbled like a gymnast a couple of times before landing rather elegantly, Joe thought, on the side of the road. The Studebaker and pick-up bounced over and over as they rolled into the adjacent hay field. . Joe was dazed. He could not see Billie Jean anywhere. He remembered she was walking away from the pick-up and toward her friends car which was

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved parked far back toward town alongside the roadway. He wished there was a full moon. He could barely see Spud lying beside the road just a few feet away. There was no hope for seeing any farther than that. He could not see Billie Jean anywhere. As Joe reached Spud, concerned he was seriously injured, Spud struggled to regain his feet. He was hurting all over but, all he could think about was Billie Jean. Joe could see the frozen horror on Spuds face; he suddenly developed a sickening feeling that began rendering his heart asunder.

Spud, where is Billie Jean? he shouted in a shaky voice, it seemed to Spud, that was scared beyond belief.

Spud was unable to mouth any words. They just choked in his throat. All he could do was point to the approximate spot in the roadway where he last saw Billie Jean looking back at him with an angelic look of love. Joe felt sick at his stomach, he bent over and started retching. The look on Spuds face told him all he needed to know. Spud felt like he was dreaming; was he certain he saw the Studebaker strike her just before it hit the pick-up? He could not really remember; he felt he was in a fog and could not remember anything, or even think. As he rose on unsteady feet, Joe reached down to help him secure his footing. Looking toward the roadway, Spud pushed away and started running toward the spot where he thought he saw the Studebaker strike Billie Jean. Spud had only gone about fifty feet when he came upon the heap of flesh lying in the roadway. Joe had heard anguished cries from all manner of people and animals suffering pain. But the cries that night he heard coming from Spud were beyond belief. It seemed to Joe he was hearing cries from hell. Joe stood frozen, unable to move or even look in the direction of those animal cries of pain; Spuds cries of anguish could only mean one thing and Joe was not prepared to accept the finality represented by those awful screams. As he looked around in a daze, he saw flashlights dancing in the darkness as people came running toward him. Another moment later and he began to hear the

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved shouts of boys and girls and he saw many car lights approaching. Now the area immediately around him was being illuminated. Worse, the area where Spud sat crying in the roadway was being illuminated now. Joe still could not move. He felt both his heart and his feet were frozen; his heart frozen in time and his feet frozen in asphalt. Spud sat howling next to the remains of Billie Jeans body for some time. No one but an eight year old boy can imagine what an eight year old boy thinks when he sees a person compressed beneath a heavy, rolling automobile; and the devastating image the aftermath of such a horrible accident presents to the eyes of the young and innocent. The indelible image of his beloved Billie Jean was burned into his brain as perfect as the mark on the cows hide he helped brand. A limping Honey came running up to Spud as fast as he could. As soon as he saw Billie Jeans body he turned and started throwing up. With great difficulty he regained control of his senses. With great difficulty, he scooped Spud up and started walking back to his car. Spud was inconsolable; he kicked and screamed for Honey to put him down. When Honey reached his car, he gently put Spud in the back seat and asked his frightened girlfriend to stay with the poor boy. When Honey picked up Spud he saw Joe standing at the edge of the roadway just looking out into the blackness of the fields stretching away from the road. Honey knew Joe was in shock and he wanted to help his friend. He ran back to Joe after depositing Spud in his car.

Joe! he shouted.

Joe gave no response; he just stood there looking away from the carnage behind him. Honey shouted at him again, but Joe still did not recognize the existence of Honey, or anything else. Shock had moved in and would not vacate for a long time to come. A couple of other friends came over to Honey and Joe. Between the four of them, they forced Joe to walk along the edge of the roadway back to Honeys

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved car. Honey managed to force Joe into the rear of his car, next to a still sobbing Spud. Closing the rear door, Honey jumped into the drivers side front seat and started the engine while his girlfriend hopped in beside him. Honey did not want to drive by Billie Jeans remains so he kept off the roadway a good distance, driving over the farmers reasonably smooth hay field until he was far past the site of the accident before pulling back onto the roadway. Now he sped up and drove Joe and Spud home. He did not see them again until the funeral three days later. Joe was still dazed and Spud was still crying.

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Billie Jean was buried in Coker Cemetery next to her maternal grandmother. There was the occasional death from some dreaded disease or, a young boy would drown in some farmers stock pond. But the community seldom experienced such a tragic death as Billie Jeans. The entire community and surrounding farmers turned out for her funeral. There was not a dry eye in the large crowd that drove to the rural cemetery to attend the graveside service after attending the memorial service in town. Spuds mother tried to tell him he was too young to attend Billie Jeans funeral service, held at Weeds Funeral Home in Saint Jo. Spud told her he was going even if he had to walk to town and run away afterwards. Joe quietly intervened and told Mary he would take care of Spud; it would be alright. After the graveside service, people were milling around talking in soft voices. All Spud heard was an indistinct buzz like the sound made by the wild honeybees that inhabited some of the old trees in the country cemetery. He walked over to the side of the still-open grave, dug in the midst of some very old oak trees. A slight westerly breeze was blowing. He wished he could tell Billie Jean how much he loved her and he wanted to say good-bye more than anything. But, no matter how hard he concentrated, he could not conjure her to come to him so he could say what he wanted to say. Spuds heart was punctured

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved through and through. He could feel it; it was a palpable pain emanating from his breast, sometimes so strong his lungs felt like they were being crushed and the effort to breath seemed to difficult to even bother. Then the pain would subside for a short while before the spasms returned.

Good-bye Billie Jean. I will always love you. he silently whispered. A moment later he heard a rustling in the leaves; he was not certain but it seemed to him he heard a gentle whisper, perhaps a figment of his imagination. I love you the wind whispered, followed a moment later by, I will always love you.

Joe came over to stand silently beside Spud. He slowly put his right hand out and rested it gently on Spuds thin shoulder. As much as he hurt, he still felt great empathy for Spud. Poor kid, he will never be the same. And neither would he. If only he had gone all the way with her and kept his mouth shut about leaving. She would still be alive. He was certain beyond doubt, beyond argument, she was dead due to his actions; just as dead as if he pointed a pistol at her and shot her in the head. He never wanted Spud to find out he killed Billie Jean.

Joe put his arm around Spud.

Cmon Spud. We need to walk away and let Billie Jean rest.

Spud felt the pressure on his shoulder as Joe urged him to move away from the open grave. They had walked a few steps when they passed by a small knot of mourners. One of them was Mr. Kite. He was the local Church of Christ preacher in the small community of Saint Jo.

I tell you she will never get to heaven because she was not a member of the Church of Christ. Mr. Kite stated matter-of-factly.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Joe was incredulous. Billie Jean was a good Baptist church-goer and everyone who knew her had no doubt she had paved her way to heaven with many good deeds and bountiful smiles.

Why you son-of-a-bitch! Joe shouted.

No one had left the cemetery. Knots of people were gathered around the grave, the pavilion and every spot in-between. Hundreds of eyes turned to see what the commotion was about.

She will be waiting in heaven for all of us, at least those of us who are going to heaven. At least shell be there long before you get there, you bastard.

An angry Joe grabbed Spuds collar and practically dragged him away.

Joe was never the same fun-loving brother after Billie Jeans death. He seemed to go through life in a daze, never grabbing life by the throat as he did previously and living with great verve. It seemed to Spud he just lost his grip on life the night Billie Jean died and was not able to ever get it back. Joe would never forgive himself for the events that happened the night his love died. Spud soon came to believe three people died when the clock struck midnight and eternity started its countdown toward forever, and history was etched into the collective memory of a small school. Even the small town seemed to die a little. ______________________________________________________

Sissy, Spuds oldest sister, married her high school sweetheart the week after she turned 18 years old, about three months after Billie Jean died. Sissy could not wait to get away from Frank. Although he never really touched her, for she was too old when he married her mother, she felt suffocated in the hellish emotional environment he brought with him.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Although her husband was still in college, she promised she would work and help pay the bills so he could continue studying. After the wedding, a small affair in a local church, the newlyweds traveled to Denton where Bill was enrolled in the university. Spud left the church before the ceremony was over. He could not bear to see his sister leaving. It was too painful. He could not say goodbye to her. He hid out in the back seat of his mothers car until she was ready to go. His sleeve was wet with tears before long.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

Chapter 5 Joes Graduation

The high school prom was scheduled the Friday after Billie Jeans death. She was buried on Tuesday so the school administration decided to postpone the prom for two weeks out of respect for her family and friends. The week following Billie Jeans death, Joe would not go to school. He was inconsolable for days on end. He worked hard around the ranch everyday, trying to assuage his grief through sweat and tears. Neither seemed to help much; there was always more sweat and tears, and the grief still burned in his breast as bright as it did the night she died. Frank steered clear of Joe for several days. Even he was intelligent enough to understand Joes mourning could quickly turn to rage, if pushed too far. And a man suffering from grief who was pushed to rage was unpredictable. Frank managed to abuse with impunity, without regard for retaliation, his stepchildren because he knew they were predictable. All the stupid weaklings did when he beat, or raped, them was cower and remain silent, never telling their mother about his abuse. She only knew about the whippings they received mainly because she could sometimes see the bruises. But a man in mourning became an unpredictable man and Frank did not like unpredictable. Joe did not want to go to the prom. Billie Jean was his prom date. He planned to announce their engagement at the prom. Now, he was afraid Billie Jeans absence would strike a fatal blow to his heart and soul, if he went to the prom without her. He missed her so much and wanted with all his heart to take back what happened at Devils Backbone. Unknown to anyone but Spud, Joe cried all night long for the two weeks between her death and the prom. Spud knew because he cried with Joe. The Saturday after the wreck, Honey drove out to the ranch. He knew his best friend was suffering greatly. He wanted to try to help Joe move forward by

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved coaxing him to go to the prom. Honey arrived at the ranch house early in the morning when he knew Joe would be at the ranch working. He arrived in time for breakfast. Joes mother, Mrs. Williams, from the kitchen where she was preparing the usual heart breakfast saw Honey driving up and went to the door to greet him.

Howdy, Mrs. Williams, Honey greeted Joes mother as he bussed her on the cheek.

Why, Honey Weed. It has been a blue moon since I last saw you, she exclaimed. Cmon in and eat breakfast with us.

Honey followed Mrs. Williams into the kitchen. Honeys mother and father worked on a neighboring ranch. His father was a cowboy and his mother was the ranchs cook. They had worked in the ranch since before Honey was born.

Can I help? he asked.

The biscuit dough needs to be rolled and the biscuits cut and put in the pan, she said. How are you doing?

Well, you know it has been a tough week for all of us at school. I imagine it has been a very bad week for Joe.

It certainly has. Several times I have caught him eyeing the pistol and I thought he was thinking about suicide. So far, he has kept his grief in check, but I wonder if one day he will shoot himself over this tragedy.

Honey looked at her as she was putting the bacon in the frying pan. I sure hope he doesnt do anything like that. Billie Jeans death was horrible for both

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Joe and Spud. If Joe did something to himself, I cannot imagine how Spud would take it. Probably not very well.

Honey noticed a tear running down Mrs. Williams cheek. He decided to change the subject when Joes two younger sisters came into the kitchen to help prepare breakfast. Ordinarily, they were not enthusiastic breakfast cookers, but good-looking Honey Weed in their kitchen was sufficient reason to be there, also.

Good mornin, they all chimed, almost simultaneously.

Mornin, Honey replied.

Honey thought all three of Joes sisters were easy on the eyes, very pretty but, something just shy of being beautiful. Maybe it was the hard-scrapple way they lived from week to week, working around the ranch to earn what money they could. All three seemed to possess a kind of forlorn inner aurora which detracted from their outer beauty. The middle girl, Dorothy, was a tom-boy whose favorite activity already at the age of fifteen was horse wrangler. She could rope and ride with the best of them. She was developing a county-wide reputation as a horse-woman of great skill. People brought their two year old quarter horses to the ranch and left them in the corral at the barn for a month, or so while she trained the young horse. When they came to pick up the horse, they were very pleased with the results. Dorothy never broke a horse, but gained the horses respect and confidence and when she felt the horse was ready, she mounted with little difficulty. For the next two weeks she rode the horse very day so it was saddle-smart by the time the owner fetched the animal. Dorothys reputation as a horse wrangler started when she was 13 and wanted to ride in the local rodeo. Nothing unusual about that, but she was not talking about the parade, or the barrel racing, the two rodeo activities approved for females. She wanted to ride the broncs with the big cowboys. And ride them

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved she did. People were amazed. Her reputation spread and in a couple of months she was busy taming many horses each year. From this activity she earned enough money to keep herself and her two sisters in smart clothes for school, and expensive make-up to look presentable at the occasional school dance. Dorothy was tough, for certain. Once an older, and bigger, city boy, while visiting grandparents in town, called her a cowpoke during a rodeo. Dorothy rightly took offense at the disparaging label and proceeded to thrash him in front of God and creation. Some later said that was the best rodeo they ever attended. Afterwards, he stumbled around asking what he had done wrong. A wise old cowboy took him aside and informed him calling a cowboy a cowpoke, in cow country, was tantamount to a peccadillo worthy of the best ass-kicking the cowboy could deliver to the transgressor - there was no forgiveness and there was no one who blamed her for doing what she did. Such an insult demanded retribution of the black-eye kind. The city kid did not understood the difference between cowboy and cowpoke. He ignorantly thought they were the same thing, but now he knew they were not.. When he asked the old feller to explain, the cowboy just looked at him like he was a low-down rattlesnake, or some other worthless vermin, then silently walked away. The city boy decided ignorance was bliss and he better just keep his mouth shut since this was not his turf. Getting whopped by a female was bad enough, but it hurt his seventeen year old pride that a fifteen year old girl there was no denying those huge bumps on her chest were tits whipped his butt, good and sound. From off-hand comments Joe made, Honey wondered it Frank had raped the two younger girls. He doubted Frank had raped Sissy, and probably not the tough Dorothy but, the youngest girl was much more feminine. Joe and the oldest girl were too old when Mrs. Williams and Frank married so Honey did not think they suffered near as much abuse as the three younger siblings. It was just conjecture on his part. But, he felt it was pretty good conjecture. Two of his previous girlfriends told him their step-fathers had raped their younger sisters. Honey figured that must be the destiny of young girls whose

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved mothers re-married. What a travesty, in many ways. He wished he could do something about the situation, but even with this family whom he knew very well and loved very much, there was nothing he could do. He was as powerless to prevent such travesties as everyone else seemed to be. But, he knew if a stepfather raped his younger sisters and he knew about it - he would kill the bastardif he knew about it. The ranch house was not huge. It was built in the 1890s from oak lumber removed from the original ranch house their great-great-grandfather, John Dennis, built when he first settled the valley in 1870. John and four of his boys he had 13 children drove four wagons from the valley to the closest saw mill in Clarksville, Texas. The year was 1874. They were gone two months and when they returned they had enough milled lumber to build a very large two-story house. John died in 1884. The house was damaged by a tornado, a common spring sight in the valley, in 1888. One of Johns sons, Harper Lindsay, tore down the original house and used the salvageable lumber to build the smaller house on the same location. In those hazardous days, kitchens were the most important part of the house. At least three meals a day were prepared, every day. If there were crops to gather after dusk, perhaps requiring all night, then four, or even five, meals were prepared. There was no driving down to the local Greasy Spoon and picking up a fast food meal. All meals were cooked in the kitchen either on a fireplace hearth, or a large, iron wood, or propane, cook-stove, depending upon the age of the house and the financial status of the occupants. Rural electrification, although recently begun by the federal government, was still a few years away from reaching the valley. Wood-burning cook stoves remained the cooking mechanism of choice. Propane cook-stoves were available but not all homeowners either could afford the propane, or just did not want to pay for it when wood was plentiful and virtually free. Some houses had both the fireplace and the cook-stove. Mrs. Williams father had purchased and installed a propane cook stove many years ago. Also, the kitchen was strategically placed adjacent to the water well. Older

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved homes had the water well in the kitchen while more modern houses placed a back-porch over the well with the kitchen adjacent to the back porch. Everything required to prepare a meal was stored in various types and sizes of containers and either placed neatly in the cabinets around the kitchen, or stored in special steel bins lining one wall of the kitchen. In these bins were stored bulk items such as flour, sugar, potatoes, and beans. These food items were typically bought in 100 pound sacks, except families might raise their own potatoes or beans in a truck garden. Since the kitchen was by far the largest room in the house, it seemed reasonable to find the dinning table there, as was the custom. Soon breakfast was ready and on the table. Just as all were sitting down, Joe and Spud entered from the back door. They had finished feeding the livestock and both were ravenous. The both said hello to Honey when they walked into the kitchen.

Did you boys wash your hands? Mrs. Williams suspiciously asked.

Yes, maam, they both answered in unison as they sat down at the large table.

Mrs. Williams inherited the hand-made oak table from her father, who inherited it from his father, who had 13 children. It was a large table.

Honey smiled inwardly. It was amazing how much Spud took after Joe, imitating him in everything he did, even when answering their mother. Spud was going to miss Joe terribly when Joe left for the wheat harvest. Honey envied his friend for the opportunity to earn good money while traveling over several states and seeing some big cities. Neither young man had ever been to a big city, not even nearby Dallas.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved The small talk around the table painfully avoided talking about Billie Jean, or any school matters. No one wanted to open Joes and Spuds wounds while eating. Frank was uncommonly quite since Honey was present. Frank exercised caution when a potential witness could testify against him in court should a need arise. Usually, Frank dominated the breakfast conversation by deriding anything and everything the sullen children said, which tended to keep the conversation to a bare minimum. But, everyone knew with a guest in the house, Frank would more, or less, behave himself, so this morning the breakfast chatter was earnest. Honey noted there was even an air of gaiety with a good amount of laughter resounding off the bare walls.

Honey, what are you going to do when you graduate in a couple of weeks? Mrs. Williams asked.

Im goin to Wichita Falls with my band. The deejay at KSYD radio station, Snuff Garrett, heard us play last fall at the Jerry Lee Lewis telethon. He asked us to come to the station as soon as we graduated. He is going to help us get a record made. Dont know what will happen after that. Maybe we will get to make some more records.

Why, Honey Weed! Youre going to become famous! Mrs. Williams exclaimed.

Honey just blushed and looked down at that large biscuit swimming in white gravy. Mrs. Williams sure could cook a fine meal.

After breakfast Joe and Honey went to the barn while the others worked in the truck garden. Joe still had a few chores to do. As they raked and forked hay into the horse stalls, they chatted about old times. The football and baseball games they played in were the primary topic. At one point Joe mentioned last

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved falls Homecoming game; he was elected Homecoming King and Billie Jean was elected Homecoming Queen. For awhile they worked in silence. Honey had visited Joe many times over the years, staying over on weekends and sometimes staying for a week, or two, in the summer. He always helped Joe with his chores so the two of them could finish early then go fishing in the river. He was familiar with Joes work routine. Then Joe suddenly starting talking about Billie Jean. He told Honey what a wonderful person she was. For awhile he talked about the things he and she did together, such as going to the movies, or going skating. Finally he started talking about the fateful night she died. He stopped and leaned against the huge center post of the barn as if he needed to prop himself up under the weight of his conscience. Joe told his best friend about their last night together. He did not leave out any detail. He told Honey everything as if he was confessing a sin and was seeking absolution. Only once during his recital of the events leading up to her death did a tear slowly roll down his cheek. The little bitty tear welled up and started falling when he told Honey how much he loved her. It seemed odd only one tear fell, not two one from each eye. But, Honey was not aware how much self-control Joe was exercising to keep from bawling his head off. Honey knew without any doubt he loved Billie Jean. Anyone who saw the two of them together could not honestly deny those two were meant for each other. Their love shone bright all around when they were together. Finally, Joe came to the point where he rejected Billie Jeans sexual advances, hurting her beyond belief.

Even today I cannot believe how much I must have hurt her.

Look Joe, you cannot blame yourself for what happened. It is not reasonable. You could not know Billie Jean was going to behave the way she did. You could not have known her reaction and her subsequent action. None of this is your doing. It really is not anyones doing. The boys racing did not plan to wreck their cars. And no one expected a drunk farmer to come barreling through

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved the crowd the way he did. It was all an accident. Maybe it was Gods will. Maybe it is destiny. Whatever you want to call it, you just have to accept it for what it is. Dont let this destroy you.

I am trying desperately to keep it from destroying me. You have no idea how many times I have pulled out my pistol and put it to my head, wanting with all my heart to pull the trigger. My heart wants to pull the trigger, but my mind keeps telling me to wait another day. But then, after I put the pistol down, I do not want to wait another day. I call myself coward and pick up the pistol again. The other night, I actually pulled the trigger but, my brain forced my hand to push the pistol away at the last moment. Probably the only reason I have not shot myself is because of Spud. If I died, coming so soon after Billie Jeans death, it would certainly destroy him and I cannot do that to him. I guess I will struggle through somehow but that does not mean I want to live. I dont. If God took me right now, I would have no regrets, no doubts, no fear. I could be with Billie Jean.

Whew, Joe! For Gods sake, let me take that pistol home with me so you wont be tempted anymore.

That is really no solution. There are several pistols around here. And if I cannot find a pistol, there are several rifles and shotguns. If I am going to kill myself, there is no shortage of shooting irons available.

For the next couple of hours they worked beside each other, sometimes for long stretches of silence, and other times Joe talked incessantly about Billie Jean. Honey mostly listened. His plan seemed to be working, Joe was getting the pain off his chest. They went from feeding the horses, to working on tack, to sharpening the garden implements. Richard and the middle girl delivered into town the truck vegetables stowed in the trunk and rear seat of the familys 1947 Ford sedan. The body shop was not going to have the pick-up ready for another week. Richard and Dorothy

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved came home as soon as they delivered the last of the vegetables. No one wanted to hang out in town and listen to all the other kids awkwardly talking about the death of Billie Jean.

It was getting late in the morning when Honey suddenly said, Hey, Ive got something to tell you.

Joe stopped sharpening the shovel he was working on and looked at his best friend, a friend he was very grateful to have. He knew Honey must be keeping something from him and figured he would get it out when he was ready. Now he was ready.

I broke up with my girlfriend last night.

Why?

Well, I went over to Nocona last Friday after school. Pa wanted me to fetch some special horse liniment that only the Nocona feed store sells. After I picked-up the liniment, I went to the DQ - Dairy Queen - to grab a hamburger. The parking lot was full so I parked at the church across the street. I was inside The DQ when a Nocona boy drove up to the take-out window. Guess who was practically sitting in his lap? Yeah, it was Patsy, my girl.

What did you do?

I stayed real calm and just waited until they drove away. I guess she did not see my car parked across the street. So when I met up with her at the square last night, I told the bitch to go to hell. She pretended she did not understand and she pretended she was hurt. But when I told her I saw her with the Nocona boy at the DQ, you could see the blood leave her face. She was shocked. Turns out, she has been seeing him for about a month. She drives over to Nocona

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved supposedly to go to the drive-in movie theater but then meets him and runs around. They probably go parking and I bet she lets him get a stinky finger. He wont come over here because he knows I will beat the shit out of him for being with my girl.

What are you going to do for a prom date? Just about all the girls have a date.

Well, that was what I was thinking about today. I do not want go by myself and there are no available females I want to go with. So, how about you and I going together?

Joe thought attending the prom given the circumstances was not just improbable, but impossible. Not only did he have his own grief to contend with, but his presence in the gym where the dance was being held, would remind everyone of Billie Jeans recent death and he figured that would make the yearly event a very somber occasion, far too somber for its purpose.

I cant attend the prom.?

Why not?

Aside from the fact Billie Jean was my date and how it will now cut deep into my heart to be there without her, I am a living reminder to everyone there that she is dead. I dont want to spoil the dance for everyone else.

I spoke to both the Senior and Junior classes this week. Old man Simpson called a special meeting of the two classes so I could talk to them about this very issue. The consensus is, everyone wants you to come. You have waited twelve years for this dance and you should be there. One of the girls said the dance was not only our chance to say goodbye to each other as we head off in

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved our own different directions, but it is also a time for all of us to say goodbye to Billie Jean. They all want you there. Since you were the Homecoming King, you are supposed to open the first dance, anyway. Im sorry. Honey momentarily forgot the Homecoming Queen was not going to be there to open the prom with the first dance with the Homecoming King.

Look Joe, everyone wants you to come. Honey hastily said. They think it will not be a real prom if you are not there.

Im not really interested. I miss Billie Jean and it hurts to much to think she will not be there. I just dont think I can handle it.

I understand, Joe. But, for six years you have been the towns football and baseball hero. Just look at what you did in football. You were the go-to guy to win all those games. If not for you, we would not have won the district football championship four times, the regional championship twice, and the state championship once. You are everybodys hero and they want to see their hero one last time.

Im nobodys hero, Honey.

People have come to depend upon you in ways you cannot imagine. And everyone loves your sense of humor. You were always the life of all the parties and dances. Everyone just feels it will not be much of a prom if you are not there.

Joe just stared past Honey for a long time, not saying anything, a pensive look crowning his brow. The students could see him at school for the remaining two weeks of classes. How could he go to the dance when his beloved Billie Jean would not be there? How could he keep his heart under control? How could he keep his tears under control? How could he be the life of a party now?

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Joe was learning a universal truth: love big and you will hurt big; love small and you will hurt small. He had loved Billie Jean with all his heart and soul. He just did not know how he could have loved her more. Now, that love was transformed into the worst anguish his soul had ever experienced and the worst pain his mind could imagine. The idea of going to the dance - before now he would not even think of going frightened him, and he was not easily frightened. But his earnest friend was looking expectantly at him for an answer and it was obvious he was hoping for a positive one. Maybe other people did depend upon him more than he realized. Maybe, if he concentrated on this dependence, he could manage to get through the night without losing whatever little composure he could muster.

Ill think about it.

How long?

Ill let you know tomorrow afternoon. I need to sleep on it.

Honey gave a small smile, not in victory, but in gratitude his best friend would think about it.

By noon they were finished with chores, for the time being. Joe grabbed left-over biscuits, ham and bacon, quickly stuffed them into an old, worn haversack and the two best friends drove over to the river for some afternoon fishing. Joe and Honey returned later in the afternoon with a couple of catfish they caught at Rock Bluff. Deep-fried catfish served with fried potatoes, pinto beans, corn bread, ice tea, and home-made tartar sauce was the dinner fare. Honey thought Joes mother was the best cook in the county. Honey stayed over for the night. When Honey stayed over, Frank minded his manners.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Although it was Saturday night, Joe was not interested in ferrying anyone into town for the movies, or skating, so after dinner everyone silently slinked off to their room for a quite evening. The next morning, Honey joined Joe and Spud when they headed for the barn for the livestock feeding ritual. Only this time, without the pick-up, Joe used the hay trailer hooked to the 1951 Ford 8N tractor to deliver the livestock feed. Spud thought it was much more fun to ride on the hay trailer than on the pickups tailgate. Spud looked forward to the early mornings activity. Joe and Honey loaded the trailer with the bales of hay and the cow cake then Joe climbed into the tractors seat, started the venerable old machine, put it in a road gear, and started for the creek bottoms. After Honey and Spud kicked off the requisite hay and cow cake, Joe stopped the tractor, turned off the engine then he climbed down from the seat and came to the back of the trailer where Honey and Spud were sitting.

Ive been giving the prom some thought, Joe said to Honey. Ive decided I will go, but only if we go together. Joe knew he was going to need his best friends support if he hoped to stay at the prom for any length of time without bursting out in tears and embarrassing himself.

Thats great Joe! Im glad for both of us. Honey exclaimed jubilantly.

Without uttering another word, Joe turned and walked back to the tractor, climbed aboard, started the engine, and moved on to the next pasture. When they were finished feeding, Honey stayed for breakfast, then left for home. School during the following week was more, or less, normal. Everyone avoided speaking about Billie Jean when Joe was present. Saturday night came and Joe drove the restored pick-up into town, making the usual vegetable drops and the usual movie theater and skating rink drops. He looked very handsome in his tuxedo. All the girls, from 13 to 30, in town, and at the skating rink, crowded around the pick-up whenever he stopped to stare at him and offer their best

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved wishes. Joe could only look at each female in turn and make the obvious comparison to Billie Jean. Each was found lacking. He just sighed his thanks and silently wished the night was done with. He met Honey back at the square after dropping Spud off at the skating rink. He parked the pick-up and got into Honeys car.

How are you getting along? Honey asked.

Ill be fine. Cmon, lets get it over with.

Honey was hoping for a little more congenial Joe tonight but, the face he was sitting in the car telling Honey to get going seemed a minor miracle to Honey, for he really did not expect Joe to show and he could not find fault if he did not show. Honey wondered if he had the courage to face a gym full of friends who, in their earnest desire to be considerate either continually offered their condolences or painfully ignored the subject of Billie Jeans demise. Joe was right; best thing was to just get it over with and move on. Mrs. Padgett was speechless when she saw Joe enter the gym wearing the tuxedo. She saw Joe wearing a suit at Billie Jeans funeral. He looked very handsome then. But now, wearing a tuxedo, the effect was stunning. She thought about the same of Honey in his tuxedo. The two friends represented just about the best beefcake within at least a 100 mile radius to her knowledge. Too bad she could not order them into her office and give them a thorough examination. She hoped she would have the opportunity to dance with both boys tonight. Joe looked around the gym when he and Honey entered. The girls of the Senior and Junior classes had outdone themselves, decorating the venerable sports hall, built during the Great Depression by CCCP workers, to give the impression of a large dance hall. There was the bandstand on one side and on the opposite wall stood the long tables filled with food and drink. Crepe paper decorations with hundreds of balloons decorated the walls and basketball goals. The usual prohibition against wearing street shoes on the gym floor was relaxed

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved for the occasion. Most of the attendees were already present but a few latecomers straggled in over the next 30 minutes. Soon after Joe and Honey entered, Mr. Simpson started the festivities by mounting the bandstand and speaking for a few minutes about the significance of the night handing the leadership baton from the outgoing senior class to the incoming senior class, saying goodbye to the seniors, etc. He was a wise principal for he only spoke for a couple of minutes before introducing the emcee for the evening. For several weeks the student body had tried to discover who the prom emcee was going to be. Most rumors centered on the local record spinner at the skating rink. Everyone was delightfully surprised when KSYD deejay Snuff Garrett came bounding into the gym from the boys locker room, where he was hiding until the introduction. After a few humorous quips about school and principals, he introduced the band, another well-kept secret. Joe was surprised when Snuff introduced Honeys band whose members, except for Honey, were also hiding out in the boys locker room. The students gave the band a resounding round of applause. Honeys band was very popular and everyone thought as soon as they graduated, they would become famous. Unknown to Joe, Honey arranged for the Homecoming Queen runner-up, Janet Weed, to ask Joe for the first dance, since it was traditional for the Homecoming King and Queen to start the prom leading off with the first dance. The other students always waited until the first verse of the initial song was finished before walking out onto the dance area. Honey thought in this case, the runner-up should symbolically stand in for the Queen. Honey knew Janet had a crush on Joe for at least four years, so he did not think it would be a tough sell to convince her it was her duty to perform the duties of the Queen. He had to explain to her that she would have to step out of the traditional role of waiting to be asked though, as Joe was suffering too much grief to ask anyone to dance. She readily agreed to the arrangement.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Janet kept her eyes on the gym door, watching for Joe and Honey to appear. When they walked in, her breath caught in her throat. Both young men were very handsome in their tuxedos and thick, long, dark hair. She nervously kept her distance from them, though. This was a time when a girl had to be swept off her feet, as the current colloquialism phrased it, before she could publicly show emotion toward a guy. Since it was well-known Joe had not swept her off her feet, it remained for her to stay outwardly calm. But, inside her heart was racing like a top fuel eliminators engine at the end of the finish line she liked to go to Gainesville to the drag races with her father. The price she demanded from Honey to do as he requested was his agreement to sing Paul Ankas recent hit, Put Your Head On My Shoulder as the first song. Honey had already memorized the lyrics of the song, so he immediately made the connection.

I dont think that is an appropriate song. The lyrics are too suggestive. It will upset Joe. Anyway, the Senior and Junior classed voted for the first song to be Sea of Love.

Put Your Head On My Shoulder lyrics are no more suggestive than Sea of Love lyrics.

Well, that may be so, Honey reluctantly said, But Sea of Love was the song voted for and Joe knows that. He will know it was changed for some reason.

Honey, it is Put Your Head On My Shoulder, or no deal.

Honey went over the lyrics in his mind. Maybe the lyrics with the sweet music, combined with the beauty of Janet, and the atmosphere would help Joe get through the night easier. Maybe that was what Joe really needed, another

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved womans shoulder to cry on, a cooperative woman. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea.

Okay, I will do it, just for you Janet. Honey was not above trying to score points with beautiful women.

Janet watched the band and as soon as they started walking toward the bandstand, she started walking toward Joe. As Honey reached down on the stage to pick-up his guitar, Janet walked up to Joe who was watching Honey and the band. She thought he had not noticed her since he entered the gym about fifteen minutes ago. But then, from the expression in his eyes, she figured he had not noticed any of the 100, or so beautiful females milling around the building. This was going to be a challenge, she decided. But, she had nothing to lose so she was going all out. She would use every feminine wile and skill she ever learned to capture Joes heart tonight. It was now, or never.

Hi Joe! she breezily said.

Oh, hi Janet. Hey! Dont you look gorgeous. Joe honestly, but somewhat tightly, replied. He thought every time he looked at a female, or said anything complimentary to one, he was somehow debasing the memory of the love he and Billie Jean shared. He did not want to debase, or cheapen, that memory but if nothing else, Joe was honest and felt compelled to compliment a person if the compliment was deserved. Billie Jeans death was still all too painfully recent for him to begin adjusting to a new reality and he knew that, which is why he did not want to come to the prom.

You look handsome yourself, big boy. She coyly responded. It did not hurt to use a little butter to soften him up right at the beginning, but only in a very demure way. After all, modesty was always the best policy to get a guy to sweep a girl off her feet. Joe, I know this may be a little awkward for both of us right

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved now but, I need to ask you a question. Honey thinks the school traditions should be honored so I promised him I would ask you for the first dance. All the other kids would like for us to lead off the dance together.

A dark look passed over Joes face. Janet could see the anger starting to boil.

Wait. For a moment, Janet thought she was going to lose him. The kids talked about it and they think if you lead off the first dance, it would be a wonderful tribute to Billie Jean. And since I was Homecoming Queen runner-up, they thought I should be the one to dance with you. Thats all. We just want it to be a moment to honor Billie Jeans memory.

She looked at his so disarmingly he thought she was telling the truth. The truth was, only she and Honey knew of the plot, both to change the initial song and for him to dance with Janet. She thought a couple of little white lies, offered in the honest attempt to accomplish a higher principle, namely to get Joe to fall in love with her, were acceptable. She underestimated the depth of Joes propensity for honesty and truth in all things. Joe thought about what Janet said. Maybe leading off the first dance with Janet would be a fine tribute to Billie Jean, but only if Honey dedicated the song to her.

Wait a moment, please.

Joe walked up to the bandstand. Honey shuffled over to the edge and leaned down.

Janet told me about the plan for me and her to lead off the first dance. I will only do it if you will dedicate the song to Billie Jean. And I want you to say something like, Billie Jean was taken from us two weeks ago. Tonight, we dedicate of this song to her memory.

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Sure, Joe. Anything for you, buddy. I mean, I agree the first song should be dedicated to her.

Joe just nodded his head. He walked back over to Janet. The rest of the students were getting impatient for the dance to get started. The murmuring was increasing with each passing moment. Honey hit a few chords on his Fender lead guitar. The talking stopped; everyone turned toward the bandstand.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 1959 Saint Jo Junior/Senior Prom. I am Honey Weed and this is my band, The Sweet Tones. And now for the first dance; in accordance with tradition the Homecoming King and Queen will lead off the first dance.

There was an audible rush of air as almost everyone gasped. Certainly Honey knew the Homecoming Queen was dead.

Standing in for the Homecoming Queen is the first runner-up, Janet Weed. Janet and Joe will lead off the first dance. And the song, actually the whole prom is dedicated to the memory of our special Homecoming Queen who unexpectedly departed from us two weeks ago, tonight. God bless and keep you Billie Jean. We love and remember you.

The large crowd of students and chaperones clapped furiously as Honey stopped talking and adjusted his guitar strap around his shoulder, modestly looking down at the floor. He was avoiding looking at Joe for he felt if their eyes met, both of them would start crying like babes. He did not think it was in the best interest of the prom for he and Joe to spend the evening crying. Already, many of the girls were pulling their handkerchiefs out and a couple of the boys wiped an arm across the eyes.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved When Honey raised his right hand to bring it down to strike the first chord, Janet took Joe in her arms and pulled him toward the bandstand a couple of steps to put some room between the other students who crowded around them. At the first note, Janet stepped out in tempo with the beat of the song, pulling Joe along with her. Joe followed her lead for a moment then the male took charge and he started leading Janet around the dance floor. Janet thought he was dancing in a mechanical manner, not really relaxing. He did not look at her. His mind seemed elsewhere. Janet put her head on his shoulder and moved as close to him as she dared. There was no way he could not feel the heat, the desire of her body. They swayed to the beat of the slow song, moving as one as Joe slowly melted and began moving more rhythmically and less mechanically. After the first verse, although the light was dim in the gym, Janet could see the tears streaking down Joes cheek. The rest of the students moved into the dance area and started moving to the music.

Its okay, Joe. I miss her too. All of us miss her.

Janet pulled Joe even closer and just let the music do the rest. By the time the song was over, Joe had melted and was leading her around the dance area as if he were her lover. She felt her heart swell with tender affection for this man who was hurting so much. Tonight she would do anything for Joe he wanted. She was leaving in the fall for Austin, Texas. She was going to attend the University of Texas. She knew Joe was leaving soon after graduation for the wheat harvest. She figured tonight was the only chance she had to turn not only Joes attention toward her, but also his heart. And it was his heart she wanted. It would be a dream come true. She had fantasized about Joe and herself as lovers since at least the fifth grade, when her body started its relentless and oftentimes contentious march toward adulthood. She did not dream about the two of them making love, after all she was to young to have those specific feelings, yet. No, she dreamed Joe kissed her; kissed her like she had never been kissed before, because she had

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved never been kissed. She could only imagine what such a kiss felt like. But, her imagination was fertile so the kisses were unlike anything she felt before. As she dreamed of those passionate kisses, first her developing breasts then her private area started feeling warm and tingling. As she grew older and began to receive back-seat instruction in the art form of love-making, it was always Joe who held her in his arms, regardless of the name of the boy actually performing the requisite duties. It was always Joe who kissed her; who touched her breasts; who sucked her nipples; who massaged her pussy. And it was Joe she fondled and made orgasm. It made no difference who the boy was in the back seat; it was always Joe doing these things with her when her eyes were closed. It was his face she saw, and his hands and his penis she felt when her heart was beating to the rhythm of the ages and her pussy was crying for fulfillment. After an evening of heavy petting, Janet would go home, change into her nightgown, crawl into bed, pull her panties down, put her right hand on her hot, wet pussy, start massaging her clitoris and come time after time, always with the photo of Joe in her other hand. Now she was just three hours away from having her dream come true. Her older sisters taught her many things about boys and sex as she matured into a young woman. Although she was still technically a virgin, Janet knew more about sex than just about anyone else in the room. In her home, there was never any secret prohibition against touching herself. Her three sisters spent many hours in their bedrooms, door closed, of course, talking about their bodies, their desires, and how they pleased themselves. From an early age, Janet was masturbating. She understood what that pussy was made for and she certain tonight, it Joe wanted it, she would give him her virginity. One of her sisters made certain she was equipped for the evening with a couple of condoms. Tonight was the night and it did not matter if he loved her; she loved him. After the first dance, Joe separated from Janet and thanked her for the dance. Janet was not about to let her plan be usurped by a grieving Joe. She knew she had to go slow and not raise any alarm, but didnt she have the whole

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved evening? From the look of pain still registering on Joes face, she doubted any other female would have an opportunity to snag him tonight.

Joe, could we talk outside? she coyly asked? Women manipulating men. Good grief, but this was not a new concept. The technique probably was around when fish crawled out of the primordial sea and began walking around as small mammals.

Why do you want to talk outside? We can talk here. Joe warily responded. He and Janet had moved off to the side of the dance area a good distance in order to make room for those who wanted to dance. Joe figured he had his first and last dance for the night. He looked around and the closest person was maybe ten feet away and did not seem interested in what they were saying.

I really want to speak with you in private. It is something personal.

Okay. Joe reluctantly agreed.

He knew if he walked out that gym door with Janet, tongues would immediately start wagging and he really did not want to start any gossip mills spinning out rumors before he graduated and left town. On the other hand, he wanted to be cordial and respectful. And Janet was beautiful and pleasant to be with. The two of them walked to the door; Joe opened the door and after Janet walked out, he followed her. Joe was thinking he wanted to be supportive and a friend but doubted this was a good move on his part. He still suffered too much raw grief for a close encounter with a female tonight. Janet was thinking, now I have him away from the others, I can do with him what I want. Delusions of her feminine wiles and skills were severely clouding her vision and judgment tonight.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved I need some advice. Janet quietly stated.

Joe wondered what kind of advice she needed from him. About all he felt he was qualified to give advice about was football, baseball, and working on a ranch. They were standing outside the gym door. Janet knew it would only be a moment before some curious student, probably a female, stuck her head out the door to see what they were up to. So, she started walking slowly toward the nearby football field. For a moment, Joe hesitated then he began following a few steps behind her. For maybe 50 feet Janet remained quite. Joe assumed whatever advice she wanted, it must be of some import to her. Still, he had no clue what she wanted from him. Suddenly she stopped and let him come even with her.

Its a beautiful night, isnt it? she asked as she looked up at the band of stars in the cloudless sky outlining the edge of the Milky Way galaxy.

Yes, it is.

Is that Cassiopeia? She was pointing toward the northern horizon.

Joe looked in the direction of her pointing finger.

Yes, it is.

And the constellation just to the west of it is Perseus.

The remark was more of a statement than a question, but Joe felt obliged to respond.

Yes, that is Perseus.

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You know the constellations well? She asked as she began to move closer to the football field.

I know many of them. I enjoy the times I can sit in the darkness at home late at night and try to identify as many as I can.

Do you know where Ursa Major is? she asked sweetly, innocently? I have never been able to locate it.

Janet knew astronomy was Joes one passion, besides Billie Jean.

Joe stopped then pointed almost directly overhead. They were near the goal post closest to the gym. Another few feet and they would be directly underneath the metal posts.

There it is.

I dont think I can tell where you are pointing. Janet said as she walked up very close to him and looked skyward.

Dont you see it there? It is those seven stars forming the Big Dipper.

No, I really cant tell where you are pointing.

Still looking skyward, she moved so close to Joe, he had to feel the heat. She was certain of it. There was no way he could not be moved by the smell of her perfume, the closeness of her body, the view down her cleavage.

See it now?

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved She had moved so close to him her head was directly underneath his right arm pointing arm pointing straight up into the May sky.

Oh! I see it now. She exclaimed.

As Joe brought his arm down, Janet turned to look at his handsome face just as he lowered his head to look at her. She raised up on her toes and kissed Joe firmly, yet sweetly, on his lips. His reaction was immediate. Janet was so close to his body she could feel his penis stiffen into a hard rod. She smiled inwardly. Her plan was working out just as she imagined it would. Joe responded by gently pushing her lips and teeth apart with his tongue and thrusting it into her mouth. The sensual movement caused Janet to catch her breath; a low moan escaped from deep in her soul and pushed its way out the corners of her responding mouth. If only that was Joes dick in my vagina, she shamelessly thought. That thought made her moan even louder as Joe pushed his tongue deeper into her mouth, searching, searching for something that was not there. For something that did not exist anymore. Just then an over-eager Janet made a mistake fatal to her aspirations of losing her virginity to the best hunk for some distance. She reached down and gently touched Joes cock. She was impressed for it was a good sized cock. If not for her sisters telling her, she would expand to accommodate almost any size cock, she would be afraid such a large cock would rupture her insides. She could feel it throbbing against her leg as she pressed herself against him. The feel of her hand on his cock was like a bolt of lightening hitting him not in the balls, but in the brain mass where the memories of Billie Jean and their necking were still fresh. Joe immediately withdrew his tongue and pulled away from Janet. Without a word, he turned and began walking toward the gym. Janet thought he intended to go back to the prom. She followed after him trying to get him to stop, but he would not. He just kept walking, looking straight ahead and not saying a word. As they neared the gym, Joe walked right on by the door. Janet stopped.

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Arent you coming inside? She asked plaintively.

Joe never said a word. He just kept on walking.

Joe! Please. Stop. Janet did not want to suffer the embarrassment attendant upon walking back inside to the prom by herself.

You bastard! Are you going to leave me to go in alone? Come back, you fucking bastard! Billie Jean screamed.

As Joe walked away, Janets torrent of abuse reminded him of the proverbial saying, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. This was the second time in two weeks he suffered a womans scorn. With each step separating the distance between himself and a furious Janet, he resolved then, he would never suffer such abuse the rest of his life.

Janet turned around, attempted to compose herself, then opened the gym door and walked inside, her head held proudly aloft. Of course, many students saw two leave and only one return. Janet headed toward the punch bowl. That fucking bastard was not going to ruin her prom. By god, she was going to fuck somebody tonight, even if it had to be the shortest, ugliest guy at the prom. When a close friend saddled up to her in a few moments and asked what happened to Joe, she laughingly said, I do not want to go off to college and still be a virgin. So, I had plans to let him have my virginity tonight. But when we were outside necking under the goal posts, I reached down and felt his cock. It was so tiny, I began laughing and that made him angry. So he left. Joe came walking back to the square, still in his prom tuxedo, to the astonishment of the kids not entitled to be at the prom. They just watched as he got in, started the engine of the 47 Ford , and headed out of town in an easterly

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved direction. It was 21 miles to Lindsay, the nearest place to get a bottle of storebought whiskey. He was going to get drunk for the first time in his life. Everyone at the prom noticed the bright, shining flame that had burned so brightly in Joe, making him the most popular kid of his generation and the generations before and after, had died. The death of that flame portended a difficult future for Spud.

__________________________________

Frank ran Joe off as soon as he graduated high school. While the family was at the graduation ceremony, Frank, who did not attend the festivities, threw Joes clothes into the yard. When the family came home from the graduation ceremony, Frank was standing on the porch with the 30-30 rifle in his hands.

When Joe got out of the car, Frank snarled, Theres your shit. Take it and git outta here and dont ever come back. Your mother can take you back into town.

Joe looked at Frank with a hard edge. He was just about fed up with this jerk who bullied everyone around him. Joe figured the problem with Frank was, no one had ever thrashed his ass in a resounding manner. Like most self-reliant people, Joe did not believe in rule of law, or justice. He believed in the code of the true Old West. According to that code, the threat of violent retaliation was the force that kept peoples darker nature in check. That is, if you knew someone would retaliate for a wrong you committed, and that retaliation was severe, up to and including death, then a person would not be inclined to stray far from the righteous path. A golden rule of a little different color than the usual Golden Rule. The problem with Frank was, he knew all of them at the ranch were to weak to retaliate. At least for now. Except for little Spud.

Spud ran over to Frank yelling, You leave. Joe is going to stay here.

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Then he kicked Frank on the shin. Frank swung his left hand and cracked Spud upside the head, knocking him off the porch. Joe started to move toward Frank with gritted teeth and a murderous look hard fixed in his eyes. Frank swung the rifle around toward Joe.

Dont come any closer.

Mary was busy picking up Joes clothes when Frank knocked Spud off the porch. She stool transfixed, uncertain what to do. She did not anyone to get hurt, but Frank was a man to reckon with. She decided the best thing was to get Joe into town and on the bus. His Uncle Dee was waiting for Joe to join the wheat harvest. As Joe moved menacingly toward Frank, she ran to step between the two men.

Frank, put the rifle away. Im going to take Joe to town, now. She stated with more conviction in her voice than she felt in her heart.

She turned to Joe and pleaded, Please Joe. Its going to be alright.

Then git em outta here before somebody gits hurt. Frank demanded. Then he turned around and went into the house.

Spud was lying off the side of the porch rubbing the side of his head. Mary went over to him and helped him up. She dusted off his clothes and told him to go over to Joe and say goodbye. That is when Spud started running for his life. Mary and Joe called after him, but he would not stop, nor would he look back. He ran as fast as he could with no particular destination in mind. He just wanted to be out of sight when the car went over the hill.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Joe was seething with anger. He stood there calling Spud with clenched teeth and tight fists.

The day is coming asshole, just as assuredly as you are standing there right now, Joe thought as he saw Frank lurking near the front door. You will be accountable one day for every abuse you have committed and your accountability it is going to be here on this earth, not in heaven.

With a heavy heart, Joe picked up his clothes, stuffed them into the suitcase lying near by then he put the case in the trunk. He looked around for Spud, but he was gone. Joe called for him one more time but, he did not show. He wanted to say goodbye to Spud, but with Frank standing inside the door menacingly waving the 30-30 rifle around, Joe decided to just leave and not cause any problems. He hoped Spud would understand some day. His mother drove him back to Saint Jo, stopping at the Greyhound bus station. He purchased a one-way bus ticket to Amarillo, where Uncle Dee was supposed to be with the harvest crew. He kissed his crying mother goodbye. As the bus was leaving the station late that evening, he said goodbye to the area where he grew up, and mentally told his step-father to kiss his ass. Joe never went back. ___________________________________________________________

Spud skedaddled into the timber behind the barn. He didnt want to say goodbye to Joe. It hurt too much to see his brother leaving. By the time he was in the timber, the tears were falling without restraint. He walked a short distance as he gasped for air then he started running again, trying to get as far away as possible, trying to outrun the pain, the tremendous sense of loss he already felt. The tree branches and briars tore at his wool suit. He didnt care. The rocks and tree roots scuffed his black shoes. but he didnt care about that, either. There would be hell to pay for messing up his one good suit, but such things were not important, anymore. Spud just wanted to keep moving as far away from

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved the place where his heart was ripped apart. Dimly, he heard a rattlesnake as it sounded its warning. He just ran faster. Why did Joe have to leave? He loved Joe with all his heart. He did not understand how he could live without him. He didnt want to live without him. Spud did not want to stop running. He felt if he stopped, his heart would burst from the terrible emotional pain wracking his soul. He didnt know why he wanted to seek the gathering darkness far from the house. And he didnt care. Just moving forward seemed to be better than standing still; and the farther he ran, the farther the immediate past was behind him. Maybe, if he ran far enough, the past would not hurt anymore. Spud didnt stop running when he came to the river. He just turned west and kept running until he reached Rock Bluff. The climb up the bluff finally tired him beyond further endurance. He threw himself down on top of the flat Cretaceous rock overlooking the river. He lay on the warm rock crying, the tears flowing like a broken faucet. He felt his world had collapsed. Spud cried until exhaustion overtook him. He finally fell into a deep, troubled sleep. He dreamed he was surrounded by thousands of people yet he felt alone and frightened. For the first time in his life, Spud was alone; not alone in the sense of being physically alone, but alone in the sense of not having someone close by in his life who loved him. Spud was eight years old. Leaving so soon after Billie Jeans death, Spud could not say good-bye to Joe. It hurt too much to say goodbye to the only other person he loved without reservation and who loved him without reservation. Even his mother did not command the love and respect Joe and Betty Jean did. Joe was the only person in his young life who never hurt him in any way while teaching him almost everything he knew. Joe taught him how to add and subtract, and even multiplication, and how to read before he entered public school. Last year when Spud announced he wanted to learn to drive a tractor, it was Joe who put Spud in his lap and let him steer the old Ford tractor while they pulled a hay wagon across one of the fields. Joe taught him how to rope and shoot, how to tie knots in the hay ropes when hauling the loaded hay wagon to

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved the barn. Joe taught him how to milk the cow and even how to prepare horseshoes when shoeing the horses. And Joe taught him how to roller skate. He would not understand for many years, but Joe even taught him how to love. Who would teach him now? The only man left to teach him anything was Frank and the lessons he learned from Frank not the lessons a small boy should learn.. The next day after Joe left, Spud returned to the house. He picked up his single shot twenty-two rifle, stuffed a few cartridges in his pockets, a few cold biscuits and bacon strips and left on a trek. He did not necessarily have any destination in mind, he just wanted to walk until he could walk no more, and he wanted to cry until he could cry no more. Spuds beloved eighteen year old brother had left the ranch for good. That was the last time Spud saw Joe for many years. After Joe finished the wheat harvest, he enlisted in the Air Force, never returning home. Now, Spud was left to lifes vagaries defined by an abusive, deranged, alcoholic step-father, a weak mother, and two sisters whose soon-to-be unleashed search for sexual satisfaction in a world with a strict moral code caused in his emotional development more flotsam and jetsam than a hurricane deposits upon far shores. There is no doubt children will pay in emotional baggage for the sins of the parentsand the sisters.

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Chapter 6 Killing Cats

Joe drove his car into town and patiently waited a couple of hours until Frank left for work before driving back out to the ranch. He wanted to say goodbye before he left to join Uncle Dee and the harvest crew somewhere near Amarillo, Texas. Now that Joe and Richard were gone, Frank released the abuse brakes. There was no one to stop him from doing any damn thing he pleased to the remaining step-children living with their mother. Well, Sissy was too old to molest. She would probably complain to her mother if he tried. But, the two younger girls and Spud were young enough to believe his threats to kill them if they uttered any complaints to their mother. He was confident he could do what he wanted with them and they would remain silent. Frank waited one week after Joe left before he launched his next attack on Spud. Frank wanted to be certain Joe was gone and not coming back. He knew if Joe found out what he was going to do, Joe would kill him. And besides, he wanted to savor the thought of what he was going to do. That young, virgin ass made him smack his lips every time he thought of thrusting his rock-hard penis into that tight ass. With Joe and Richard gone, Spuds uncles had to hire a man to help feed their cattle. He was an older fellow who farmed a couple of hundred acres of Mountain Creek bottom land. The northern boundary of his farm bordered the southern boundary of the ranch. He built a gate in the barbed wire fence separating the two places so he could easily drive to the ranch house barn and get the hay and feed for the livestock. It was decided, by Frank probably, Spud was old enough to milk the cow every morning. Joe taught him to milk and many mornings Spud accompanied Joe to help with the milking. On the following Saturday after Joe left, Spud was in the barn milking when Frank came up to the stall.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Hey! Cm here, Frank brusquely said.

Spud was squatted alongside the Jersey cow pulling on her tits with both hands. He looked up while keeping the hands squeezing and the milk flowing. But, his attention distracted, he missed the bucket and the half-wild barn cats scrambled over each other to get at the milk going on the barn floor. Frank caught one as it rushed by with his boot and sent it flying over the back of the cow to land on its squalling head. The cow, startled by the squealing cat, kicked out with its right leg, catching Spud on his side and sending him sprawling, along with the almost full milk bucket. Shit. Now there was going to be hell to pay.

Now see what ya did, ya little bastard, Frank almost yelled. Im gonna have to teach you a lesson. Come here.

Spud was still sprawled out from the cows hard kick. He slowly raised himself and dusted the hay off while mournfully trying to figure out how to get away from Frank. But, Frank was standing at the entrance to the stall. He rose and slowly walked over to the big man. Frank grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him over to an empty stall.

Pull your pants down, Frank said in a husky voice full of desire as he started taking off his belt.

Spud assumed from Franks actions he was going to get a beating. It would not be the first time and probably would not be the last time. Spud unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall.

Turn around, damn ya and pull down your underwear.

Spud did as he was told. Experience taught him if he did as Frank told him, the abuse, the beatings, were a few strokes less.

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Now bend over, ya little bastard.

Spud bent over. He closed his eyes waiting for the first stroke of the belt. He was surprised when Frank grabbed his left shoulder with his left hand. He clenched Spuds shoulder so tightly the pain brought tears to his eyes. A moment later and he felt a great pain in his rectum as Frank forced his dry cock into the small orifice. Spud screamed in pain as Frank thrust forward, shoving his cock as far inside as he could. Frank quickly put his right hand over Spuds mouth. His big, rough hand covered both his mouth and nose. Now he could not breathe as Frank started thrusting in and out. The pain was immense. The pain was so intense, Spud thought he was going to black out. His head was swirling, his stomach churning, his eyes became unfocused. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Frank was thrusting in and out faster and faster, his breathe coming in gasps now. Suddenly, just as Spud thought he was going to collapse and pass out, Frank became stiff and still, as the sperm shot out and into Spud. The feeling was so sickening, Spud started gagging and threw up.

Thats it boy. Work those stomach muscles. It feels great. Frank kept his penis inside Spud and his hands clamped on his shoulders while the bent over Spud threw up all over his boots.

When Spud was finished vomiting, Frank pulled his enormous penis out of Spuds ass. As soon as his penis was out, Spud had an unnatural desire to crap. He suddenly squatted and pressed down on his rectum. He could feel a wet substance come out as his asshole worked like an over-time pump-jack pushing all the semen back out, followed by a couple of turds. His stomach was achy again so he started dry heaving since there was nothing left to throw up. Then he just collapsed onto the hay lying on the floor. Frank just laughed as he pulled up his pants.

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Boy, if you say anything to anyone about this, I am going to cut your throat. You got that?

All Spud could do was moan a more, or less, acknowledgment.

Were gonna do this every once in awhile. So get used to it.

Spud lay on the hay, his pants and underwear down around his ankles for a long time. For awhile he could fell something wet and warm coming from his rectum and running down his thigh onto the hay. The pain was still to much. He did not want to move. He lay there and thought about what Frank did to him and his threat to cut Spuds throat. He believed Frank. Frank always kept his promises to punish so Spud did not doubt Franks willingness to kill him if he ever told anyone about this. Over the years, Spud saw the farm animals breed. Besides the usual bull on cow, or stallion on mare, he saw cows in heat, with no bull around, climb each other and try without visible effect to hump their way to satisfaction. He saw stallions mount geldings and have their way. So, he knew males were capable of fucking other males, and females were capable of fucking other females. Of course, this knowledge did not come via discussions with his older brothers, or anyone else. Sex was pretty much a taboo topic. The knowledge came from watching and listening and adding the sums of what was heard to reach the, not always, proper conclusions. So he knew what Frank did to him. As he lay there hoping the pain would soon subside, his hatred for Frank transmuted from just plain garden variety hate to a caustic poison that would eat at his soul for many years. While lying in the cow and horse shit in the stall, unstoppable sweet, salty tears raining down on the hay, he decided he was going to kill Frank one day. He decided that was going to be his lifes goal. From that day forward, Spud cared only to live for the day he could kill that abusive bastard.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved After more than an hour lying in agony, Spud thought the pain was sufficiently bearable he figured he could get up. As he struggled to his feet, he saw the blood still running down his thigh. It was not a lot of blood, just a trickle, but it was still flowing from his injured rectum and he did not know what to do about it. He knew he needed to stop the bleeding so he pulled off his trousers and underwear and began looking around for something in the barn he could use. All he could find were a couple of dirty rags used to wash the milk cows tits with, if they were covered in cow manure, which one, or more, usually were. The largest cloth Spud used to wipe the blood and now dried semen from his legs and buttocks as best he could. He carried the smallest one of the rags back to the stall where his clothes were lying on the floor. He folded the cloth into a square and placed it between his butt cheeks. Then he put on his underwear and trousers. He noted when he walked over to get the cloths, he walked with a funny gait. His rectum hurt so much he could not walk normally. He hesitated before he moved each leg forward, and he kept his buttocks tight, instead of loose which gave him kind of a seafaring gait. He had seen a few people walk in a similar manner. He heard it said of such people they had a corn cob stuck up their ass. Well, he had a cock stuck up his ass. The thought brought back the flood of tears. Spud surmised it would not go well for him if he struggled back to the house. He decided to just stay in the barn. Maybe the pain would later subside sufficiently for him to walk normally. So he laid on a bale of hay for a couple of hours. When his mother came to the back porch and called for him after another hour, or so, he remained quite. Around noon he decided he could manage to walk to the house with no more than a limp. To everyones questioning stares at his disheveled condition, he told them the cow kicked him pretty hard, making him cry and hurting his legs so bad he could not walk for a couple of hours. Everyone had a turn at the milk cows from time to time and knew they could be pretty ornery when pulling on

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved their tits. His mother wanted to look at the supposed wounds, but Spud adamantly refused to pull his trousers down for her. The rapes continued more or less weekly for some time. One Saturday morning the hired man who replaced Joe came to the barn to get the hay and feed while Frank was fucking Spud. He was a small, thin man, probably not weighing more than 135 pounds. He stood at the barn door, his eyes starring hard in disbelief, his thin mouth agape in horror. The gasp of air he sucked in when he first saw the sight caught Franks attention. Frank turned in surprise to see the dumbstruck man staring at him. Frank pulled out of Spuds rectum, pulled up his pants, and walked over to the garden tools hanging on the barn wall just inside the door. As Frank walked to the barn door, he kept up a steady stream of words to keep the farm hands attention.

Hey, John! Let me explain.

John just stood there in the doorway like a deer in headlights, unable to utter a word, or take a step, as Frank reached the garden implements. Frank reached for a pitchfork.

What the devil was all John said before Frank ran the pitchfork through the mans throat.

Frank picked up John with the pitchfork handle and carried him inside the barn. Johns legs were kicking to and fro as Frank carried him inside. Working in the oil field as a manual laborer kept Frank strong, stronger than most men his age. Frank pushed John up against a rack of hay, pushing the pitchfork as far as it would go into the hay. John was hanging maybe a foot above the barn floor. Blood was gushing out of his throat and mouth, his eyes bulging out in disbelief and horror. Frank gave a low laugh as he watched John bleed and suffocate to death.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved As soon as Frank pulled his cock of out of Spuds rectum, Spud snatched his underwear and trousers up. When he saw Frank ram the pitchfork into Johns throat, the sight of the blood and the look on Johns face made him sick at his stomach, again. He ran out the door on the other end of the barn. As he turned to head for the house, he could see John pinned by the fork to the hay, kicking his legs, his mouth moving but no sound was coming out. Spud ran as fast as he could to the house, grabbed his twenty-two caliber rifle and ran for the hills up Mountain Creek. He was scared unlike any scare he ever had, even more scared than the night he watched the movie, The Mummy from the back of the sofa. Spud did not return home for three days. Somewhere in those three days of wandering among the hills and valleys of the river, Spud lost what humanity he had struggled to keep while living under the same roof as a man who knew no empathy for anything, or anyone. He saw Frank beat horses in the head with 2 inch thick oak planks; Frank killed calves, pigs, chickens, dogs, cats, squirrels and rats; now he saw Frank kill a man. He saw Frank slap his mother and sisters. Spud saw Frank do so many evil things, he now thought the man was the most evil person in the world. He hated Frank far beyond anything that could be considered reasonable, unless a person knew all the evil things Frank did. One day Spud knew he was going to have to fight evil with evil. As he walked the hills alone, he knew this in his soul just like he knew the sun rose in the east. It was a fact he would no longer question. He returned home convinced Frank had to die one day and he would never let another person beat, or abuse, him anymore. Everyone was worried when he came home. Frank was ready to thrash him, but Spud ran out the door and took off again. He waited in the timber and only returned home a couple of hours after all the oil lamps were out. He groped in the dark to find the refrigerator. He found a couple of sandwiches inside. At least Mary was trying to help him as best she could. When he woke the next morning, everyone was dressing for Johns funeral. He was going to be buried in Coker Cemetery. The story of Johns demise did not match the facts as Spud knew them.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Supposedly, John died when he was plowing ground on his nearby farm along the high, steep bank of Mountain Creek. His body was found in the creek laying under his Ford tractor. It was readily evident the tractor had hit a soft spot in the sandy loam soil along the bank and toppled over into the creek, falling about 35 feet to land on top of the unfortunate John. His head and torso were crushed so bad, no autopsy was required as the cause of death was obvious. Throughout the funeral and subsequent burial, Frank kept giving Spud a knowing look, from time to time.

The look said, If you say any thing, this is going to happen to you.

Spud tried to keep his mind focused on things other than the image of Frank killing John. Sometimes, the image of John hanging with his feet kicking and his hands trying to pull the pitchfork out of his throat would flash back into his mind. Then he would squirm on the hard bench seat in the Bulcher church house. He wished the preacher would get finished so they could leave. He did not want to be here but, his mother felt it was a necessary experience for him to learn about death and everlasting life in heaven, at least for those with pure hearts. By now Spud hated Frank so much, he knew he would never get a chance to go to heaven. His heart was no longer pure. Someone who hated as much as he did could never have a pure heart, again. He wished Frank were lying there dead, and not harmless ole John who never hurt anyone. When You Wish Upon A Star was a popular song during Spuds childhood. Although it was many years since the song was written by Ned Washington and Leigh Harline for the very popular Disney movie Pinocchio, it was still selling strong. Spud heard the song played on his cousins 45 RPM record player every time he went to visit his aunt and uncle who lived at Capps Corner. His cousin seemed to delight in playing the song to the exclusion of all others. Therefore, he was very familiar with the lyrics. The lines Anything your heart desires and No request is too extreme ran through his mind almost constantly these days. He hoped with all the strength his young heart could

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved muster that the words were true and it did not matter who he was, if he wished upon a star, his wish would come true. He did not remember exactly when, but soon after he first heard the song, he began wishing upon as many stars every night as he could. After dinner, if the night was pretty much cloudless, he went outside and lay on the cellar roof, and while looking skyward, started wishing as fast as he could, on as many stars as possible, before drowsy eyes overtook him and he had to leave the cellar roof and go to bed. Sometimes, especially if the temperature was pleasant, he would fall asleep where he lay. On more than one occasion, Joe, or Richard, carried him to bed. Now he knew when you wish upon a star, your dreams will not come true, regardless of the extremity of the request and regardless whatever your heart desired. Spud knew this from a very early age. He had wished a million times upon a million different stars and not a single star made his wish come true. What wish could such a small child have that he so fervently wished every night for it to come true? It was a wish so extreme he would not share it with anyone. It was his secret wish, his secret dream.

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What are you doing now, you little basterd? Frank shouted.

In a quiet voice, in a futile attempt to keep the mood safe for he knew whatever happened next, it was not going to be pleasant, Spud stammered, I found these kittens in the garage.

.Not pleasant was not a hard, fixed measure, nor was it black, or white, with Frank; not pleasant had many varying shades of grey when it came to Frank, and all shades were dangerous to whomever was the object of his wrath at the moment

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud went into the garage that summer afternoon after seeing the stray cat slink into the dark interior through the small hole on the side of the garage nearest the house. Searching for the cat, he found four little kittens snuggled with their stray mother in a remote corner of the garage, behind a couple of boxes. Spud loved cats and kittens. The stray mother let him pick up each kitten and pet it for a moment. She just lay on the old rags tossed in the corner and watched as he petted each one. He decided to take the kittens outside to play. Frank hated cats. He hated children. He hated women. He hated preachers. He hated neighbors. He hated cops. He hated lawyers. He hated his step-children. He hated working. He hated getting up in the morning. He hated cold food. He hated a dirty house. He hated a clean house. Spud thought Frank hated everything. Frank thought he hated everything. Frank hated everything because his parents hated everything. He was born in Montague County; Spud thought he was born to hate. From an early age, Spud was aware of a strong undercurrent of hatred practically everywhere in the county, but it was a mellow hate mostly manifested in a sort of peculiar resentment of the younger generations. The bitterness of older adults was easily discernible in their stoic and curt attitude toward younger people. Not all adults were possessed of a stoic demeanor, but it seemed to Spud most adults were. Scattered throughout the countys population, in sufficient density to be noticeable, were the angry ones, the people whose hatred burned with an untoward intensity. Spud thought Frank and his parents were some of the angry ones. He could sense the hate around Frank and Franks parents. Their attitude and mannerisms literally dripped easily discernible hate, like the Dairy Queen ice cream dripping from the cone in the hot summer sun. They seemed to possess more than the usual share of hate suffocating this tiny community which suffered incredible atrocities during the days of Indian raids. Of course, Spud tried to minimize the amount of time he was in their presence. But, his mother did not seem to care what a six year old boy thought about her romantic relationships and made him go with her almost every time

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved she visited that hate-filled house where a bachelor Frank, one of two male children, at the age of thirty-eight still lived with his parents. They were not especially unique in their negative attitude in the little town where Spud went to school. Many people in the town and in the surrounding county harbored ill will toward the world. It seemed almost everyone beyond the age of thirty had a hard heart atrophied by family hardships and were determined to keep all people at a safe distance. The result was, most of the adults had a stoic demeanor. Perhaps if one knew what their families suffered, one could understand. They were just one terrorized generation away from the horrible Indian depredations but, a five year old boy did not know this fact. Everyone had relatives from the previous generation who suffered horribly at the bloody hands of marauding Indians as they raided south from Indian Territory deep into the heart of Texas. During those times of privation and hardship, a full moon was a time for fright, not from blood-sucking vampires, but from killer Kiowa, Comanche Choctaw, Chickasaw, Kickapoo and members of other tribes re-located in Indian Territory. A full moon gave sufficient light at night for the marauding Indians to travel from location to location, killing, burning, raping, and stealing as they passed from one lonely frontier cabin to another. What man was immune from hate when he returned home from a trip to the grist mill to find most, or all, his children and his wife dead, brutalized beyond belief? Babies were swung by their feet and their heads bashed upon tree trunks, then the lifeless bodies were causally thrown aside as if they were never a living, breathing human being. Females were raped, sodomized, scalped, beat in the head with war clubs until dead, then breasts were removed to become prized tobacco pouches. Especially cruel Indians would not give the victim a final killing blow, but leave them lying in their own blood to die from blood loss, or from exposure, or when they were eaten by coyotes. More than one family man, or older brother came home after a couple of days absence attending to business elsewhere to

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved find a wife, mother, daughter, sister, son, brother crying to be shot so the agony would stop. Small children were brutally slain beside their dying mothers while older children, if demonstrating good health and some measure of courage, were taken as captives, to be used as slaves, or hostages. Of course, the wild Indians would kill any white men they came across while they were marauding, if the odds were in their favor. It seemed the odds were always in the heathens favor when they came across women and children. The last Indian raid across the river was in 1899. Many of the older people in county were born long before then. Their collective memory was still full of images of Indian depredations on people, homes, and livestock. They lost brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins to the rampaging horde. Not a single family living along the river, or living within fifteen miles of the watercourse between Red River Station and Illinois Bend, escaped the carnage wrought when Indians crossed the border bent on stealing and killing. Spud and his family lived a scant mile from the river just a little south of Illinois Bend. His great-grandfather was reputed to have killed the last hostile Indian during the last raid into the country. Maybe this was why some of the people born and raised in the area could be so mean and hateful. Suffering through devastating Indian raids while conquering the land and making it productive, working tirelessly while helplessly watching young children die from diseases and Indians, and seeing wives and mothers die from childbirth, hardship was everyones daily companion. Apparently the subject of hardship consumed most of their earnest praying. Burials were almost every day occurrences. While families were emotionally close to each other, stoicism became the common personality trait of these survivors. Showing any emotion was considered a weakness, for both men and women. And laughter in the survivors became a figment of someone elses imagination, supplanted in the local mind by a bitterness for most everything in life. Perhaps, hatred is too strong a word to describe the attitudes of the local

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved people. But this was the atmosphere a young Spud sensed while growing up in Montague County, Texas. Hate can be passed from generation to generation and Spud lived in an area of Texas especially conducive for such family inheritances. Montague County, and especially the part of the country adjacent to Red River saw more murderous Indian raids than any other section of the nation. Hate was alive and well in the county, passed from some parents to their children without any realization of the gift.

Take the cats and put them on the porch near the steps, Frank demanded in his best roughneck voice.

Frank was an oil man. That is, he worked as a laborer on oil derricks drilling for other peoples oil. He was strong, his body hard-chiseled from the daily grind of lifting heavy drill stem pipe.

A wave of nausea came over Spud. Whatever was going to happen in the next ten minutes, it was not going to be pleasant. Spud knew Frank was capable of cruelty far beyond his young imagination. Frank made Spud hold his young dog last year while Frank castrated the animal. Its howling and struggles made Spud cry and the smell and sight of blood made him vomit. Frank beat him afterwards, calling him a coward and a sissy. When he finally escaped Franks hands, he ran outside and crawled underneath the porch. The crawl space was too low for Franks big bulk, but it was sufficiently high for Spud to go far into the center of the house where he knew he was safe from Franks beatings. He used this refuge before when Frank was on a drunken tirade about something and everyone in the vicinity was susceptible to a beating for just being near him. And there were several times Frank tried to single him out for special attention and he would run to the crawl space and hide. On those occasions, he hid until Frank became so drunk he forgot about assaulting him. Sometimes that required many hours of hiding. On this occasion, Spud stayed under the house

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved for two days and nights before hunger finally drove him to seek something to eat. But, Spud was certain Frank had gone to work before venturing out. After all, he was not stupid. Instinctively, Spud knew Frank was going to do something wicked with the kittens, but he did not really understand just how wicked this evil man was at this time. Spud picked up the playful kittens as ordered and carried them over to the concrete porch. The wide covered porch was just a few feet from the detached garage. Spud sat the kittens on the porch and began to play with them again. If only they, and Spud, knew what was in store for them, maybe he could have ran to a neighbors home and sought refuge for the kittens and himself. But, he still did not know the depths of Franks depravity so he innocently continued playing with the kittens as Frank walked up to the porch with a hammer in his hand. Frank picked up the first kitten and put it on the top step. He quickly swung the hammer and the mallet fell full onto the kittens skull. The sound of the crushing skull was sickening and Spud immediately began retching while trying to move over to Frank to restrain him from reaching for another kitten. With the hammer in his right hand, Frank swiftly back-handed Spud across the temple with his strong left hand. Spud went sprawling in the grass as Franks right hand came down again on another kittens skull. Spud cried even louder, wailing like a Comanche on the warpath. He struggled to his feet and ran to the sandbox. In the box were a few toy garden implements, a rake, hoe, and shovel. Toys they were, but still made of strong hickory wood and hard steel. Plastic was still an oddity and not used for toy-making. The shovel looked the most formidable of the three tools to Spud. He grabbed the shovel and ran back to the porch. Already three kittens lay on the steps with their heads smashed flat. Blood was all over the porch. Frank was just rearing his right hand to strike the last kitten when the shovel came down on the back of his head. Spud swung with all the strength his small adrenaline-fueled body could produce, screaming with all the power his nine year old lungs could muster. Fortunately, the side of the shovel caught the top of Franks scalp and it sliced neatly through the hair and skin just like a knife.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Frank dropped the hammer, turned to look at Spud with an awe-struck countenance, then he toppled over as the blood gushed down his forehead and neck, blinding him with its thick, red opacity. Regardless of the immediate outcome, Spud knew the next chapter in his life was going to be hell on earth when he swung that small, hickory handled steel shovel. But he did not care anymore. He was sick of this malicious tyrant terrorizing him and his brothers and sisters. Spud wanted him dead. So, while Frank was down, Spud stuck again and again and again, not listening to Franks pleas to stop. Spud was crazed with desire to kill this man who first shot a rifle at him when he was six years old, He continued to swing the shovel at the head of the dazed tyrant until the strength gave out of his thin arms. Realizing he was in grave danger from this man who would squash him like a bug as soon as he gained his senses, or more likely, shoot him like a rabbit, he snatched the remaining kitten and ran with all the speed his short legs would muster to the entry to the crawl space. He flung himself underneath and crawled as fast as he could to the center of the house, keeping the kitten in his right hand. Moments later he heard Frank screaming his name as Frank ran into the house. From the sound of the running footsteps coming through the floor of the house, Spud could tell Frank was fetching his rifle from the closet in the bedroom. Frank quickly returned outside and came over to the crawl space entrance. In the light pouring through the entrance, Spud could see the shiny barrel of Franks 30-30 rifle. Frank began shooting the rifle, swinging the barrel from side to side, moving it slowly as each shot rang out with a loud echo. Fortunately, the rifle only contained seven shells and Spud knew this. He counted each shot as he hunkered down in the dirt as low as he could go, the frightened kitten mewing in his right hand as he held the defenseless animal close to his chest. When Frank finished shooting the seven rounds, he pulled the barrel from the entryway and stood up. Soon Spud heard his footsteps as he returned to the inside of the house. He knew Frank was going for more ammunition. He was also

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved certain Frank would not stop in his demonized anger until he shot him. So, Spud quickly crawled back to the crawlspace entryway, cautiously peeked out and seeing no danger, scrambled outside still carrying the kitten. He rose and sprinted for the timber as if his life depended upon it. And it did. There was no doubt in his mind Frank was determined to kill him this time for his feeble attempt to fight back. Frank would certainly kill him for that transgression. He was near the edge of the trees running as fast as his short legs would carry him when he heard the front door screen open and close. A moment later, 30-30 rounds began whistling around his head and by his ears. Spud could later say with some degree of authority, the sound of bullets passing nearby lend speed to flight. He ran even faster. As soon as he passed the first tree he felt his chances of escaping were improving. However, the odds were still not in his favor so he continued running until exhaustion dropped him in his tracks. He was near the bluff which marked the beginning of the Red River valley. He was only five miles from town. Spud did not know what to do. He could not return home. The Frank monster would be waiting for him and there was no doubt what that monster would do to him. The hammer would be in Franks right hand, ready to strike a killing blow one more time but not at a kittens head this time. Well, he never felt he had a real home after his mother married that monster. Monster does not seem strong enough to convey the disgust, the loathing, and the hate Spud had for that evil man. Frank was an asshole. Yes, nine year old Spud liked asshole better. It gave a ring of authenticity to the true feelings he had for Frank, for asshole was the most disgusting word he knew. After walking aimlessly for a few hours, Spud decided to walk to his aunts home. She lived about 12 miles away, just down the dirt road a few hundred yards from Capps Corner. He did not expect her, or her husband, to offer him refugee status, but he knew his aunt would contact her sister, his mother. As he walked the long miles in the gathering darkness, a plan began to form in his confused mind. He would go live with his oldest brother, Joe. Joe was ten years older than Spud. He had just married and

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved looked like a man of some import dressed in his Air Force uniform. It was after 3:00AM when he finally walked into the front yard of his aunts rock house. Although he was weary and footsore, he knew those were the last footsteps he would ever walk in trepidation of Frank. Spud could not imagine what his mother thought about her husband and his treatment of his step-children. She never commented about Franks behavior while married to him and she never intervened when Frank went on one of his tirades that usually resulted in one or more children sporting fresh bruises for the next week, or so. He never asked her later why she stayed married to him after she finally divorced the creature and was free to talk about him. And he never asked her if she knew about the sexual abuse. He did not want to know how she felt and he certainly did not want to know, if she knew about the sexual abuse. For if she knew, then she was as guilty as Frank. And if she was guilty, then he did not know how he could keep from hating her, also. He knew the stories of rape and sexual abuse of his sisters and he knew how he felt about Frank and that was sufficient for him regardless of how anyone else felt about the beast. As the years passed, his hatred for Frank continued to grow with the accumulating abuses to his mother, his brothers and sisters, and to himself. One day, he knew he would face Frank and look him boldly in eye before strangling him to death. He eagerly looked forward to that day when he would be the purveyor of justice Franks life and all the wrongs of his lifetime were made right. Spud also knew how he felt, about his mother, Frank, and his cowardly father for leaving him in the clutches of such an evil man. He hated his father as much as he hated Frank. And he hated his mother just as much as the two men for putting him in that abusive environment and for standing by without protest when Frank raged against his step-children. Yep, there sure was plenty of hate to go around in north Texas in the early days of Spuds youth. Life ensured he carried his fair share of the poison as he moved forward from childhood into young adulthood The fact that he overcame such

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved deep-seated hostility later in life is a testament to the enduring human spirit and his earnest desire to seek a better life for his children, far from the hate-filled streets and homes, and even farther in time and space from the memories, where he grew up. Spud was not immune from the disease, either. How could he tell anyone his ardent dream; the secret dream he fitfully dreamed every night; the dream he wished upon thousands and thousands of stars; he knew it had to be a special star he had not yet wished upon because his dream was yet unfulfilled. This dream, this secret dream was for his abusive step-father to die a horrible death and be gone forever from his life and the life of his family. If only dreams wished upon stars did come true maybe, just maybe, life would be different and a different life had to be a better life. Different and better. But then, he did not know it was just a great bundle of wasted wistful wishing upon cold and indifferent stars, just as the adults around him were cold and indifferent to the abuse raging in his life. That is, all but one man and woman. After Johns death, Spuds two uncles hired Sam Williamson to feed their livestock and do other chores around the ranch. Spud was glad they hired Sam. Sam was pretty old but in very good physical condition. He still plowed his 80 acres of bottomland with a tired, old mule. Every month he walked the ten miles to town, bought a one hundred pound sack of mule feed, a few essential grocery items such as coffee, sugar, and flour, then walked back home. Maybe twice a year his wife Connie would accompany him. Spud rode an old, gentle mare over to Sam and Connies from time to time. Sam and Connie always greeted Spud warmly. They would sit on the wide veranda of their old farm house, drink cold tea, and talk for seemingly hours. After Joe left, Spud spent more and more time visiting with Sam and Connie. It was one place he could go and forget about the emotional and physical pain he suffered at home.

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Chapter 7 A Stone For Spud

The thin, little boy, only one missed meal away from emaciation, sat by the austere road. A small rock made a comfortable roadside stool. The motionless air still held the early morning coolness but he knew it was a false promise for it was June and the already bright sun shinning down without so much as a cloud to deflect the warming rays would soon heat the day to a very uncomfortable temperature. For now, it was pleasant to sit and wait and think. He stared down the long, blacktopped ribbon that disappeared as it rose over the distant hill; the long road whose secrets were only revealed by the occasional traveler who stopped for gasoline. As he stared down the forlorn, dark grey road, the only movement within his view were adult differential grasshoppers. These large, black and yellow insects swarmed around the Johnson grass growing alongside the roadway, making short flights from grass stem to grass stem, often missing their intended target and landing with an ungainly sprawl on the roadway. Usually he was interested in the antics of these bugs, for they made good fish bait, but not today. He was looking for something else, something more adaptable to the purpose of the roadway. His keen eye, sharpened by several years of avid rabbit and squirrel hunting, watched for autos coming down the roadway. The focus of his attention was not the auto itself, or even the passengers. His interest was the license plate. Even at his young age, Spud could tell where the vehicle was from just from the license plates. Of course, if the auto was from out-of-state, there was no contest. But, from the leading letters of a Texas license plate, Spud could tell which of the 254 Texas counties the auto was from. Spud lost interest in Texas autos long ago. Although he had never been more than 15 miles from his home, in his mind he already knew the geography of his native state better than most adults. He knew where every hill, every glade, and every byway in the Lone Star state was. No, Texas held little interest for him anymore. He waited patiently for an auto displaying out-of-state tags. These
Comment [MB2]: Same as chapter 8 beginning.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved visitors passed through the sleepy town regularly during the hot summer months as middle class families drove across America looking for two weeks of rest and relaxation far from a stressful home. Spud was fortunate, for U.S. Highway 82 ran parallel to the Texas and Oklahoma border, just a scant twelve miles from the lazy river separating the two states. Along this stretch of highway, U.S. 82 served as a main southern artery between the east coast and west coast for weary travelers wishing they had stayed home for their summer rest and relaxation. The small town was remarkable only because in the 1870s it was one of the last stops on the Chisholm Trail before the cattle herds on their way to Kansas crossed Red River into Oklahoma. Actually, Red River Station, about ten miles northwest, was the last stop on the trail before crossing into Indian Territory. But, during the heyday of great herds passing north, Saint Jo was effectively the last stop for many drovers as the large and numerous cattle herds spread out along the trail, waiting their turn to cross the river. During those rough and rowdy days of cowboys, drovers, rustlers, gamblers, thieves, and Indian raids, several saloons surrounded the town square, supplying the townspeople and wayfarers with their liquid refreshments. Today, only one gasoline station served the town and through traffic needs. The one remaining saloon, the Stonewall Saloon, was now a sleepy museum where one could still see the scars and bullet holes of long ago trials and tribulations. Spud sat alongside the highway opposite the gas station and waited until a car from Oklahoma, or Louisiana, or Arkansas, or California stopped at the station. As soon as an auto pulled into the gas station, Spud sprinted over and engaged the driver and passengers in earnest questioning while the attendant filled the gas tank, checked the oil, and washed the windshield. Spud was especially enthralled by the California autos. Although they did not pass by very often, when one did, Spud was certain to have many questions for the autos occupants.

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This early summer morning, Spud rose with the first cackling of the hated rooster. Even when Spud had no chores he could not sleep past the constant sentrys first call to duty. He lazily rubbed the nights dreams from his eyes as he slowly rolled over and sat upright. Suddenly, Spud remembered what today was. It was the first day of summer school vacation. No school for three months! And since it was Monday, the gravel haulers would be starting work promptly at 7:30 a.m. All the truck drivers knew him for he often stood by the lane and watched them haul gravel in their long dump trucks from the hill near the house. Spud raised his fist and pumped his arm as each truck passed. Spud never tired of hearing the deafening air horn blasts and they never tired of blowing the air horns when they say the skinny little kid earnestly encouraging them to blow their horns. What a lonely life they thought, living out here in the country with no electricity or other modern conveniences of city living, far from the easy comforts of town. We will humor this poor kid who watches us with unabashed eagerness to escape the small word in which he lives. And so they did humor the skinny little kid, even stopping and giving him a lift into town when he stood by the road and flagged down their truck. Spud knew he could count on the next truck passing by to stop and give him a ride. Since the destination of the trucks was on the other side of town where a blacktop road was being built to the next town, Spud also knew he could flag an empty truck passing through town on its way back to the ranch to get another truckload of gravel. But, if he was not in the appointed place in town by 3:30 p.m., when the last truck passed by to get its last load, then it was a long twelve mile walk back home. He occasionally made this walk, usually arriving home around midnight. The dragline excavator operator had just loaded Jimmys first load of the day. Standing on the front porch, Spud could see Jimmy pulling away from the

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved excavator a little distance to the west. Soon he would be passing near the old ranch house on his way to town. Spud hurriedly put on his ragged boots over the holey socks then ran as fast as he could to stand by the road. The dump truck was moving slowly down the dusty road; Jimmy was peering down at his trip sheet mentally counting how many trips he needed to make today when he looked up and saw Spud standing by the dusty lane, his fist in the air and the arm pumping vigorously up and down. Smiling, Jimmy gave three short blasts on the air horn as he approached the little boy. Suddenly Spud stopped pumping his arm and started waving both his arms back and forth, flagging him down for a ride into town. Jimmy stopped beside the boy who quickly hopped onto the running board and struggled to open the passenger door. Spud was almost too short to reach the door handle, but managed after some effort to get the door open and pull himself up into the cab and onto the seat. All his strength was required to pull the heavy door shut.

Good mornin, Jimmy drawled.

Mornin, Spud replied.

Goin to town today, heh? Jimmy asked.

Yes, sir, Spud replied.

School out for the summer, then?

Yes, sir.

Perfunctory greetings completed, both settled into their respective seats and watched the old cedar tree, planted one hundred years ago by Spud greatgreat-grandmother, slowly pass by as the loaded dump truck began its first struggle of several to climb the hills on its way from Bulcher to town. When

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Jimmy pulled up at the only stoplight in town, Spud quickly opened the door and jumped down from the trucks running board, slamming the door behind after shouting a word of gratitude to the old driver. Spud raced across the street to the gas station.

Howdy yall.

Hello son. How are you?

Im fine. Where in California are yall from?

Why, we are from Los Angeles, young fellow.

Where are you from? the well-dressed man asked.

Im from right here. Have you seen the ocean?

Sure. We often go to the beach.

I wish I could go to the beach. Ive never been.

Youve never been to a beach?

Nope. Ive never even been to the ocean. But, Im a gonna go some day.

Well, when you make it there, come by and say hello.

Then the station attendant interrupted the conversation by asking for payment for the tank of gasoline. The driver paid and before departing, gave the young boy a hearty goodbye.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Hope I see you again some day, young man.

Me too, sir.

As the auto pulled back onto the highway, the boy sprinted back across the highway and regained his perch alongside the busy thoroughfare. After a few hours of sitting alongside the road and questioning the frequent summer travelers where they came from and where they were going, he felt the rumbles of an empty stomach. Reluctantly, for this was the one activity where he could escape the terror at home, he started for the one place he tried to avoid as much as possible. Nowadays, he only wanted to go home to eat and sleep. He wished with all his eight year old heart he could get into one of those cars and go with the family, wherever they were going.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

Chapter 8 Wish Me A Rainbow

Spud sat on the back porch of the rambling ranch house and watched the brilliant rainbow break across the late evening sky as the dark wall cloud continued its hasty rumbling passage far to the east. The rain fell fast and furious when the outraged storm clouds hurried by overhead, driven by a strong, cold westerly wind determined to push as far east as possible before nightfall. But, now it was calm in the immediate vicinity and the western sky was crystal clear giving the rainbow a clean, virginal canvas to paint its colors. Just moments before he emerged from the damp, moldy cellar where he hid in relative safety with the rest of the family. It was customary to occupy the cellar when such dangerous storms, carelessly tossing lightning bolts nearby and capable of producing deadly tornadoes, passed overhead. Of course, Spud heard the stories about the treasure lying at the ends of the rainbow. Since the rainbow had two distinct ends, he assumed there was a pot of gold were each end of the rainbow touched the earth. To his young mind, it seemed strange adults did not jump into their automobiles and drive as fast as possible to the ends and claim the prize. But he did not make any queries concerning the subject. He knew better with Frank around. Frank did not manage questions very well, especially from his step-children. Rainbows were a common sight in the Red River valley of north Texas, appearing most often during the violent spring thunderstorms, in this area of Texas where the dense, cold, polar wind roaring across the great plains collided with the light, warm, moist air originating in the Gulf of Texas. Spud had any number of opportunities to go chasing after treasure at the end of rainbows, but this rainbow seemed to beckon him with not only its brilliant colors, but also its apparent closeness. Spuds earnest wishing upon stars had been fruitless to date. Maybe there was another way to achieve his objectives. He sat thinking about rainbows, pots of gold, and abusive adults as he stared at the arc, mentally calculating how far

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved away the ends were. From his many hunting trips into the surrounding environs, he knew he could walk about four miles an hour. It seemed to him the ends of the arc were about six miles away. He mentally calculated the time required to get to the end and return. He figured he could get to the end and be back before anyone really missed him. It was still several hours before nightfall. He could see one end of the rainbow landed among the hills of southern Oklahoma. The other end landed upon the north Texas prairie somewhere to the west. His oldest sister once threw him from Rock Bluff into the raging river in the spring so he knew he could swim the swollen waterway with only moderate difficulty, probably winding up downriver about two miles from where he plunged in, increasing the distance he would have to walk, if he chose to find the eastern end. Then he would have to swim back, resulting in a much further distance to hike. Given it was spring and the river was running bank to bank and he wanted to minimize the time required to get to the end, he decided he was going to find the end of the rainbow where it touched the Texas prairie west of the ranch. While sitting on the concrete cellar roof and gazing at the rainbow, Spud wondered why rainbows were always great arcs across the sky. He knew when the low sun shines into droplets of moisture in the earths atmosphere, the optical phenomenon known as a rainbow breaks across the sky, seemingly from horizon to horizon, in a brilliant and beautiful arc of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet colors. He even knew the multiple colors were due to the moisture droplets acting as a prism and splitting, by refraction, the light into its spectrum of multiple colors. However, he thought a person should see a rainbow as a straight line but rainbows never appeared as straight lines. They always appeared as arcs. And if drops of moisture refracted the light causing the various colors to be visible, then why didnt the whole sky light up with rainbow colors since the sky was full of moisture droplets after a spring rain? He did not know the arc is made from the path the refracted light comes to the viewer. Certainly all droplets of moisture refract light so if he could somehow put himself into the path of all light, he would see such a display in the sky. But not all light is in the path of the viewers eye and that is why he saw an arc.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud desperately wanted to escape. He figured if he had a pot of gold, he could run away. His life had become a constant attempt to avoid the abusive bastard who threw his weight around the ranch, striking out like a mean rattlesnake that tries to poison everything within reach. He wanted to escape so much, he thought, he was willing to risk the untold dangers that accompany a youth walking into the distance to find his future. He made up his mind. Without saying a word to anyone, a determined eleven year old boy stood up with unbounded confidence, adjusted his ragged, too-short pants, and began to walk into his future, a journey that would become one of great personal discovery. So began his search for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. If he gave any thought to the matter at all, it was only with a view toward his immediate, pressing needs. He did not realize, for he was far too young to understand, that he would spend the rest of his life searching for that pot of gold at the end of his rainbow. But at the moment, he was focused on marching across the intervening miles separating him and the end of that spectacular rainbow blazing across the pleasant spring afternoon. Every journey begins with the first step, and this was really his first step into his lifes journey, although he did not yet realize this. In his haste to get on with the search, he did not take anything along. He had no food, or water. The thought he might not return any time soon never occurred to him. He knew the lay of the land in these parts and he was confident he would return soon so he did not need to take anything. After hiking for about four miles, with the waning light, he marked the location of the end of the rainbow on the horizon. From the top of a hill, he was certain he could see it was hitting the ground at the base of a large oak tree far in the distance. He knew this gnarled old tree. It was a favorite tree with the squirrels he hunted. He was certain he would be there within the next hour as he climbed down from the steep hill and crossed Salt Creek, wetting his shoes and pants to his knees. The thought of being so close to the end of the rainbow gave him renewed energy as his thin legs propelled him faster and faster toward that old tree. By the

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved time he was within 100 yards of his objective he was running as fast as he could. Reaching the tree, he looked all about, expecting to see that shiny pot of gold sitting underneath the tree. Alas! He searched and searched but he could not find any pot of gold. After awhile, his tired body forced him to sit down. He chose to sit at the base of the tree. Now the fading light was sufficient only to see clearly as far as his hands. He leaned back against the trunk like he did when he was still-hunting squirrels and other game. He hoped he would see the pot of gold when the light returned the next morning. His last thought before drifting into a deep sleep was, he had found the end of the rainbow and he was all alone. Then he fell into a deep sleep, undisturbed by thoughts of Frank and his penis. The sun was shinning brightly when Spud heard the dogs coming far off in the distance. The bloodhounds were baying loudly as they ran for they had found his trail and knew they were getting close. He understood what that meant. His step-father had been out all night hunting for him and his step-father was a force to reckon with. The circumstance dictated he quickly find the pot of gold and make off with it before the hounds could get too close. Spud knew how to throw hounds off his trail but time was getting short. He jumped up and started looking hurriedly around for the pot of gold, expecting to find it sitting upon the ground in plain sight. But, it was not there. He quickly but diligently looked thoroughly around the tree in the tall grama grass. Soon he knew he had to leave if he wanted to escape the hounds and the certain brutal punishment Frank was going to minister. Reluctantly, he started running for Red River, running for his life for he knew Frank was capable of killing him. And because of this knowledge he knew he could never return home. He had no specific plan in mind at the moment, but to just escape the hounds. After fifteen minutes of running across fields and through patches of timber along the hilly watercourse, he finally came to the mighty Red. It was spring and the water was running high, almost bank to bank. Without hesitating he plunged into the cold water and began swimming for his life. The hounds were just seconds behind him, and he knew Frank would be at the rear of the hounds, riding his best horse.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Frank came to the edge of the river and stared in amazement at the skinny boy swimming across the raging water. Spud was giving it all he had and as he should if he wanted to keep from drowning. Frank rode his horse along the narrow trail above the muddy bank to keep pace with the boy as the swift water washed him downstream at a seemingly fast rate. Frank was not going to risk his life, or the life of his horse, by trying to swim to the boy. Let the little fucker drown, and good riddance. His own baby boy would have more if Spud were gone. Frank underestimated Spud. He had been swimming in the river all his young life. Yes, he was skinny, but it was a wiry skinny. The swollen river was no significant obstacle to the strong swimmer. Spud was more concerned about pitching into a diamondback rattlesnake unlucky enough to get swept out of its den in the rising spring waters. It was a common sight to see six foot rattlers struggling to stay afloat in the spring flood as the critters were getting a free ride across the state. What a stupid bastard he was, Frank thought. He was only going to give the boy a good whipping for staying out all night and frightening his mother. But, out of fear of the punishment Frank was going to mete out, the boy placed his life at risk. Frank shook his head in amazement. He continued riding slowly along the river bank until he saw Spud drag his tired body out of the river on the far bank. No need for Frank to risk not only his life, but the life of his horse, and the lives of the hounds, for the hounds would surely follow him if he attempted to ford the river. No, there was no need to risk such valuable creatures, not to mention his own precious hide. Besides, it was mid-morning, he had nothing to drink since he left the ranch house in the wee hours that morning, and he wanted to return as soon as possible and start working on the new bottle of whiskey waiting to be opened; and there were two lovely young girls waiting for him to do things to them only a beast can imagine. So, he turned his horse aside and began the long trek back to the house.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Good riddance, he thought, With any luck the little bastard will get bit by a rattlesnake and die before anyone finds him.

But, to ensure he was not labeled a heartless being, he decided he would call the county sheriff as soon as he reached the house and tell him what happened. The sheriff could drive over to Oklahoma and fetch the stupid bastard back home, saving him the time and effort. Since he did not care if the boy lived or died, actually he hoped he died, he was not going to rush back to the house either, but take his leisure. He had his 30-30 rifle in the saddle scabbard he thought about shooting the bastard while in the river but refrained from performing the deed. However, he did pull the rifle from the scabbard, aimed, and dry fired at Spud. Yep, he was certain he could have put a bullet in the stupid kid. As he watched, he decided Spuds chances of surviving the raging current were not good, therefore he did not need to waste the ammunition. A little rabbit and squirrel hunting on the way back would provide an amusing distraction from the hardship the little bastard caused him this morning. The Little Bastard. Frank was not educated much, but he liked capitalizing the words when he uttered them. It seemed to dehumanize the boy when he thought of him in that manner. Frank did not know what dehumanize meant, but he did know what it meant to make someone emotionally and physically crawl and it gave him immense pleasure when people crawled. It made him feel powerful and important when a man, woman, or child crawled and that made him feel good. He also derived great pleasure thinking of Marys children as more, or less, disposable creatures existing for his personal pleasure, and his pleasure ran toward the very brutal in emotional, physical, and sexual abuses.

Yep, he thought, Spud is a little fucking basterd and it gives me great pleasure to beat the hell out of him. I will get my chance this evening after the sheriff brings him home. That boy will remember the beating I am going to give him for the rest of his life.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Frank, if he knew, would have been awestruck to know an eleven year old boy was already planning his demise by the most vile methods his young mind could conjure. Thinking about shooting a few critters, beating The Little Bastard later in the afternoon, maybe sticking his cock in one of the bitches, if their mother was not close by, and pulling on a fresh whiskey bottle improved his spirits as he, without any other concerns, effortlessly sat upon the horse as it trotted toward the barn and a hearty lunch of oats. Yep, the thought of young pussy, very young pussy, could take the sting out of any day that started out so poorly. After all, that was the real reason he married Mary. She had three beautiful young girls just waiting for a real man like himself to cut their cherries. And he made certain he accomplished that feat as soon as he could without detection after he and Mary were married. Yep, he had even rape-fucked the oldest girl within a month after he married Mary. At first, he thought she might be too old. She was old enough to try to fight him off and run tell someone. But, as the days after the wedding passed, he came to realize she was the meekest of the three girls. She was so submissive she did not even do anything except cringe and cry when he fucked her in the ass. She just laid there and took everything he gave her, only whimpering, or moaning, from time to time. God, he loved to fuck these kids in the ass. It was much better than fucking the calves, or cows out in the barn. Before he married Mary, fucking calves and cows was the only recourse he had for relief. It gave him such an overwhelming feeling of power to take these kids and force them to submit to his carnal desires. But, these kids acquiesced too easily. Sometimes he felt disgusted by their meek behavior. A real man, like himself, would fight and not allow another man to do the kind of things Frank did. He could never respect weak people, even if they were just kids. Strength commanded respect and these kids had no strength; he knew he was the strongest so he was going to take what he wanted and he wanted tight young ass and pussy.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved The only problem having his way with the kids had been when Spud walked into the bedroom while he was rape-fucking the youngest sister. Her whimpering sounds, only magnified when Frank tried to silence her by slapping her hard across the face, became increasingly louder, eventually attracting Spuds attention. Frank picked a day when he was certain everyone was going to be in the pecan orchard working to gather the pecan crop. When no one was watching, he put a little syrup of ipecac in the coffee to be served to him. As the rest of the family left the breakfast table engaged in conversation regarding the mornings activities, Frank began to feel the effects of the emetic. His stomach began to rumble. Certain he was going to vomit any moment, he headed for the back porch. He barely passed through the door before he felt his breakfast coming up much faster than it went down. Mary saw the distress on his face and was right behind him.

Whats the matter, Frank? Mary worriedly asked.

I dont really know. Ive been feeling poorly for a day or so, Frank gasped between gags. Maybe Im getting the flu.

I will make you some peppermint tea. It will help settle your stomach.

Okay. Im gonna lie down. Frank headed for the master bedroom. He removed his boots and lay down on the bed. He ruefully thought he must have put too much IPEC in the coffee. The stomach cramps were much more severe than he thought they would be.

Mary went into the kitchen. She pulled down a tin of peppermint leaves from a cabinet. She pulled out two leaves and placed them in a small pan full of water. This she placed on a burner on the gas stove. Soon the water was boiling. She removed the pan and let the leaves steep in the water for a few minutes.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Then she poured a full mug of the peppermint tea. Before Frank could really get settled on the bed, she was beside him with the steaming concoction.

Here. Sip on this. It should help with the stomach cramping in a few minutes.

Frank sat up and took the mug from Mary.

Thank you, darlin. Now Im gonna be alright. Yall git on down to the pecan orchard.

I dont want to leave you here alone while you are ill.

Well, arent you so sweet. Ill be okay but if it is not too much trouble, ask Diana if she will stay for awhile, at least until the cramps go away.

Frank was a skillful manipulator. So, little innocent thirteen year old Diana stayed behind that fateful day and not only lost her innocence, but she lost her mind as well. She was never right in the head after that day. Mary suspected something happened to her because she became withdrawn, staying in her room and refusing to come out, when the rest of the family returned at the end of the day. And the next morning when she came for breakfast, her gait was different, as if something were now protruding from between her legs and it was difficult for her to close them together as a proper young girl was always taught. But when Mary repeatedly questioned her what happened, Diana refused to say anything. Mary, trying to rationalize her behavior and afraid to probe too deep, finally assumed she had her first period and was too embarrassed to talk about it. But Spud knew what happened. Spud saw the horses, cows, pigs and other livestock engaging in reproduction, so he was aware of the physical mechanics adopted by the various critters to produce their progeny. Still, without the hormones that would soon be raging throughout his body causing him to view

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved girls in a different light, he did not understand the desire to engage in such behavior, by animals, or people. He did not understand why Frank received pleasure from butt-fucking him, or the girls. After everyone was busy picking pecans from the ground in the orchard, Spud returned to the house to fetch his gloves he had forgot. As he approached the house along the side where the girls bedrooms were located, he heard strange whimpering sounds coming from somewhere inside. The sounds seemed very similar to the sounds Franks bloodhounds made when he beat them senselessly for not treeing a raccoon, or for some other such dog misdemeanor. His curiosity piqued, he removed his boots before he stepped onto the porch and quietly entered the house. He was scared. He was scared to find out what was making the strange sounds, afraid of what he was going to see, and afraid of what was going to happen afterwards, but he was drawn to the sounds as if hypnotized. He stealthily walked toward the sound he could now ascertain came from his youngest sisters bedroom. Concern for her suddenly flooded his senses. He rushed toward the bedroom door and flung it open. The first image registering in his mind was Frank kneeling in his sisters bed, his side to the door. His shirt, pants, and underwear were lying on the floor adjacent to the bed. His huge hard cock was protruding straight out from his body. His nakedness looked disgusting. There was a small hand encircling the cock, a hand far too effeminate to be Franks hand. Spud felt like he was going to puke. Looking past Frank to the source of the whimpering, he saw his naked sister lying under Frank. He could see the nipples of her young breasts were hard, standing erect. Gazing at her, his eyes were drawn to her right arm as it slowly moved in a slight up and down motion. He followed the arm down to see her hand clasped around Franks throbbing cock right above her pussy. Her legs were spread and he could see the black bush with the pink lips peering out between her legs. The hair glistened with moisture. He returned his gaze to his sisters face.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud had never seen human tits, or pussy, before. There was a sense of curiosity about the whole affair, but that was overwhelmed by the disgust and fright he felt. While he wanted to look at those tits and bush, it was his sisters eyes that held his attention. Her eyes were haunting. Although she wore the look of a cornered and frightened animal, her eyes belied the pleasure she was feeling. When the door was flung open, Frank was startled out of his reverie. Turning toward the door, a mean snarl was already forming on his pinched lips. Whoever just interrupted his fun was going to pay for their stupidity. When he saw it was Spud and not Mary, a smile came upon his hard lips. This was going to be fun. Frank loved terrorizing The Little Bastard. But, first things first. He had already made Diana come twice just using his finger and tongue. Now that young, hot, cherry pussy pulsating with desire lay just an inch or so beneath his thick cock and nothing was going to stop him from plunging his hard cock into the hot hole. He was going to fuck her until she came at least twice more. The bitch was going to like her cherry-popping experience so much, she was going to beg him to fuck her every day. Yelling obscenities Spud had never heard before, Frank ordered him out of the room in a booming, terrifying voice filled with hate. Spud turned and sprinted through the house, slamming the back door as he ran bootless to the barn. There were two places no one could reach him. One spot was under the house but, Spud did not want to hide there and listen to his sisters whimpering and later her screams as Frank pushed his too large cock into her asshole. Already the tears flooded his checks in sympathy for his sister as he ran to the barn. Deep inside the hay loft was a refuge only he and Diana could reach. Over a period of several weeks, his sister and he had managed to move the heavy bales of hay to form a tunnel deep into the high stack of hay. At the end of the tunnel they removed hay by the armfuls to form a small, cozy room just large enough for the two of them. This is where they hid when Frank was on a drunken rampage.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Hiding under the house was a good retreat sometimes but, hiding under the house generally resulted in Frank fetching his rifle and firing indiscriminately into the blackness under the house, hoping to wound, or maim, one of the troublemakers. Frank did not know about the hay loft refuge and anyway, they had made a right turn midway down the tunnel so if he did find the tunnel, he could not shoot directly into the end of the passageway. Spud waited there a long time. He knew his sister would come to the refuge as soon as she could escape from That Fucking Bastard as Spud now thought of Frank. Eventually he heard scraping sounds and he knew his sister had entered the tunnel and was crawling toward him. When she came into the pungent smelling hay-room, she crawled into his arms and began crying. Although he repeatedly asked her what was wrong, she refused to utter a word. She just cried and cried and cried. And Spud cried with her. It was dark in the little room so he could not see his sister. He could only feel her as his arms rested around her shoulders and she lay her head upon his shoulder. Once, as he adjusted his position after some minutes of motionlessly holding her, his hand brushed the front of her dress and he felt something wet, not water, but something else, something a little sticky. He had to rub his hand against the hay to get the unfamiliar material off the back of his hand. They stayed in the refuge until long after Dianas tears stopped flowing. Neither wanted to leave the sanctuary with the certain prospect of coming face to face with The

Fucking Bastard.

Later, Diana was able to talk.

Oh, Spud. Im not a virgin anymore! she cried.

Spud did not know what a virgin was. The way Diana spoke, it sounded like an important thing, at least to her.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved I dont know what a virgin is.

A virgin is a woman who has never had sex. Im not a virgin anymore, she whispered.

Please forgive me, God, she lamented and the tears started flowing again.

Well, whats the big deal? Spud tried to comfort her.

Men only want to marry virgins. No man will marry me now. And if the girls at school find out, then they will not be my friends. They might even make me leave school.

Well, if no man will marry you, I will. Spud declared in his innocence.

Spud, we caint marry. Were brother and sister.

Oh. Why not?

I dont know. I just know brothers and sisters are not supposed to have sex.

Well, we can marry and not have sex.

Spud, you are too stupid. The reason a man and a woman marry is so they can have sex and have children. An exasperated Diana said.

So you and Frank had sex? a puzzled Spud asked.

Yea.

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Does that mean you have to marry him? And are you going to have children now? A confused Spud queried.

Diana just started crying again so Spud stopped talking and just held her until her crying jag slowly died to sniffles.

Spud, what do you know about boys and girls?

What do you mean?

Do you know what boys and girls do when they have sex? Do you know what fuck means?

Well, I know the boy is supposed to put his thing inside the girl, like the bull does when it fucks the cows.

Have you ever seen a naked girl?

No, just this afternoon when I saw you.

Have you ever had a hard-on?

Whats a hard-on?

When your dick gets hard. Its like when the stallions dick gets hard and starts hanging down from its belly. It gets bigger and longer.

Spud gave this idea some thought. His cock had never hung down from his belly.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved No, I dont think so.

For several minutes Spud and Diana lay quiet and still, each lost in their own thoughts.

Spud suddenly said, One day I am going to kill That Fucking Bastard for what he has done to us.

Diana just began sobbing again but, Spud was now certain he was going to be the instrument of Franks demise as soon as he learned how to kill. After seemingly hours they finally decided they had to return to the house otherwise their mother was going to be concerned and turn out the whole family to look for them. They were surprised when they finally saw the sun to discover they had only been in their refuge for little more than an hour. Later that evening, Frank sauntered up to Spud while he was feeding the hogs their evening meal. Frank grabbed Spud hard by his thin shoulder and in his best The Fucking Bastard voice filled with latent terror, said, Did you hear what happened to Hot Smoke last week?

Hot Smoke was a nearby farmer who earned his moniker when the locals combined filled with hot air and blowing smoke to describe his typical yarns. He owned the skating rink and several other businesses in town.

No, I dont know nuthin about Hot Smoke. Spud meekly responded.

Well, it seems he was in his hog pen feeding his hogs when he probably had a heart attack. Anyway, he died while he was in the hog pen and his hogs ate everything but his skull. You understand what I am telling you?

Yes, sir.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved If you ever tell anyone what you saw today, Im going to feed you to these hogs here and when they are finished with you, Im going to piss in your skull and throw it in the river. You got that, ya Little Basterd?

Yes sir, I got it! Looking at the hungry hogs gobbling up their dinner, Spud shivered from head to foot.

Spud crawled out of the river onto the muddy bank and collapsed in exhaustion as soon as his torso was out of the water. From the sound of the hounds he knew Frank was still in the vicinity. He had to ascertain if Frank was following him across. He felt his life depended upon knowing what Frank was doing at that moment. After a few moments, he rolled onto his side to see where Frank was. He was greatly relieved to see Frank riding away with the hounds obediently following behind. Goodbye you Fucking Bastard! Fuckingsometimes he heard older boys whisper that special, secret word on the school bus and very rarely he would overhear an older girl say the strange word. But, it was mostly the boys who used the word. He did not know what it meant, other than more trouble than he cared to endure if he was caught uttering the profanity, for he knew it was profane, and that was why he said it out loud for the very first time. He wanted to curse the one person in his life who terrorized him every moment of the day with the most vile words his young mind could muster. Even then, the words seemed inadequate to express the deep and abiding hatred he felt for that evil man.

One day you Fucking Bastard there will be a day of reckoning, one day.

Murderous thoughts rampaged in his mind as he lay in the mud. Goodbye you Fucking Asshole, he savagely thought as the moist tears began to flood his cheeks, again. It seemed crying was all he and his sisters did since their mother remarried.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved After lying on the bank for awhile, Spud slowly rose and began unsteadily walking along the river bank toward the east. He knew his older brother lived somewhere in the east, near Texarkana. Old Boston was the name of the place. He remembered from the occasional letters his mother received from Joe. His brother always inquired after him and passed his best wishes. Joe was a good brother. Joe had always been a good brother. Spud worshipped Joe when Joe was in high school and almost single handedly won every football game. Probably the defining moment when love grew into hero worship was the fall night Joe let Spud put on his football uniform. Spud saw some of the emotional and physical abuse Frank heaped upon his mother and sisters. He saw the bruises they tried to cover up. And he saw Frank beat hell out of Joe one terrible day. It seemed to him the universe stopped when his hero tried unsuccessfully to fight off a much larger and powerful man in a drunken rage bent upon hurting anyone within his reach. Joe was trying to protect Spud from some omission in manners a drunken, besotted alcoholic brain perceived as an insult. How can a nine year old boy insult a grown man? Only a man who has the weakest character can find insult in anything a young child does. Joe almost died that day for him. Spud thought if Joe died, he did not want to live either. The next time I see you I am going to be strong enough to kill you with my bare hands. I am not going to hide behind a rifle barrel like the coward you are. I am going to stand eye-to-eye with you, put my hands around your throat and choke the living shit out of you, you Mother-Fucking Bastard. Spud had once heard those disgusting words whispered among a number of girlish giggles at the back of the school bus. People think kids get an education at school but, most kids who ride school buses get their education at the back of the bus, far from the bus drivers intruding eyes and ears. As he trudged off into the distant future, already he was one million tears old. He momentarily wondered if he was destined to cry his whole life and if love was only for the lucky few like Joe and Billie Jean.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved The river swept Spud so far down stream he came out of the water close to Jimtown, Oklahoma. Spud had been to Jimtown the previous summer. He swam the river intent on squirrel hunting in the pecan groves on the Oklahoma side of the river. After hunting for awhile, he became hungry and thirsty. Finding a farmer nearby tending his watermelon crop, Spud asked for directions to the nearest town. The farmer pointed him toward Jimtown, about three miles away. Spud planned to hitch a ride once he got to Jimtown. Maybe he would go to Fort Worth where Joe was stationed with the Air Force. Unfortunately, as he arrived in the small Oklahoma town, Love County sheriffs deputies were already in town and organizing a search party to look for him. There was nothing for him to do but get into the back seat of the police car and accept a free ride to the Oklahoma-Texas border near Gainesville. There a Montague County deputy sheriff took charge and drove him back to the ranch. The next day, the malevolent Frank beat the hell out of him twice, once in the morning and again in the evening. Spud knew one day he was going to kill Frank and he was not going to fail in the attempt, even if it cost him his own life. The hate Spud felt for Frank grew with a virulence no one else could, or would, ever understand.

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Chapter 9 Twinkle Star

Finally, the Rural Electrification Program, started by Franklin Roosevelt during the Great Depression, reached the ranch. The first thing Mary wanted was an indoor bathroom. The second thing she wanted was hot and cold running water, and the third thing on her list was a television and a radio.

What do we need all that for? Frank asked belligerently. Ive been using the outhouse all my life. I dont need to crap inside my home. It dont seem sanitary, anyway.

Maybe it did not seem sanitary, but the indoor toilet seat was a lot warmer on a cold January night. That fact alone made it a losing argument for Frank.

Dont worry, Frank. I can pay for the improvements myself. I dont need your help.

Mary had her own money and if Frank was not going to take care of it, then she would. Frank was not one to let his wife do the heavy lifting, that was his job and he was not going to stand for anyone claiming his wife had to do his carrying for him. It only required three months for him and a buddy to install the electric water pump on the old well, plumb the house and construct the bathroom.

Now ya can crap and bath inside. Hope yore happy now.

My dear Frank, I am always happy. Thank you, my dear.

Mary believed in the axiom you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

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Spud wondered why in the hell anyone would want to catch flies in the first place. Sure, he understood it was a metaphor, but in either form, metaphor or realism, he was not up for catching flies. His developing philosophy was, a dead fly was the best fly. Screw trying to catch em. Just shoot the worrisome fuckers and keep marching straight on ahead. Spud was not heavy into philosophy; however undeveloped, his budding, simplistic philosophy would soon be put to the test. Spud was in the barn cleaning stalls when Frank came out to see what was going on. Spud had been a good butt-fuck for awhile now. Frank enjoyed hitting that young ass every chance he could. But lately, Spud avoided going out to the barn, if Frank was around. And the barn was the only safe place he could butt-fuck his little boy. None of the women ever came out to the barn and now that Joe and Richard were gone, he could do whatever he wanted in the barn without fear of discovery. Spud knew this by now so he was leery about going to the barn anytime, but especially when Frank was around. During breakfast Frank told everyone he was leaving for Gainesville for the day and would not return until after dark. It was just a subterfuge. He planned to go into Saint Jo to pick up a few things at the feed store. He wasnt getting any pussy from Mary since the blow-up over building the bathroom and he could only rape-fuck Diana about once a week, that being about all the time he could get her alone. Yep, he was horny and he wanted some tight boy-ass and he was going to get some. He was back at the ranch house about two hours after he left. Sure enough, Spud was out in the barn, his favorite retreat, if he could be alone. Frank parked his truck in the front of the house where Spud could not hear, or see it. No use warning the little bastard and having him run off again. Every time the little shit-head ran off, Frank had to spend hours pretending to search for him. Frank went into the house. Mary was in the kitchen baking a cake and several pies.

Youre back early. she remarked.

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Yea, I had to go into Saint Jo first and I decided I would go to Gainesville on Saturday. Maybe you will come with me and go shopping? He asked hopefully. Maybe, if he was nice to her, she would defrost a little.

Mary eyed Frank with suspicion. He seldom offered to take her to Gainesville shopping. He hated shopping. Something was up but she did not know what. Better to remain wary before committing to something she did not know what the cost was going to be.

Well see. she replied noncommittally.

Frank grunted. Sitting on the counter was a plate with six left-over biscuits and a dozen pieces of bacon. He picked up a left-over biscuit then slapped a couple of cold pieces of bacon between the biscuit halves.

Im gonna look in on the barn and see whats up. Frank casually said. He headed out the back door.

Mary had a foreboding that made her weak in the knees.

When Frank got to the barn he was careful to enter very quietly. He could hear Spud raking straw in a far stall. He quietly stalked up behind Spud, grabbing him around the back of his shirt collar. The sudden motion scared the hell out of Spud. He jumped and tried to spin around.

Whoa, thar hoss! Frank laughingly said. Where do you think yore goin?

Spud tried kicking Frank but Franks arms kept him a sufficient distance from Franks body.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Getting a little spunk, now, heh? Frank menacingly said. Well see about that. I betcha I can beat that out of ya. Better yet, I betcha I can fuck it out of ya.

With his free hand, Frank pulled a large knife from his pocket.

See this boy? If you dont stop this god-damn squirming, Im gonna cut your throat.

Spud stopped moving.

Thats better. Now we are going to play a little game. Im gonna pull my cock out and put it in your mouth. Youre gonna suck on it just like it is a sucker. If you bite it, or hurt it in anyway, Im gonna cut your throat from ear to ear. Remember John? Ill do better than that for your fucking little ass. If you bite my cock. Im gonna cut your throat then throw you into the pig-pen. You remember ole Buck Huff who fell in his pig-pen and Hot Smoke?

Spud nodded. He clearly remembered the conversation between Frank and the Sheriff several years ago. Five weeks after the Sheriff visited Frank, Bucks skull was found in his pig pen. The Sheriff said Buck must have had a heart attack in the pig pen and could not get out.

Remember whut Ah told yew? Remember whut was left of em? Just his skull. After the pigs get through eating yew, thats all thatll be left of yew then after Ahll piss in your skull and Ill throw it in the river. Yew got me, boy?

Sure, Spud got it, in more ways than one. During the subsequent forced fellatio, Frank kept the open knife against Spuds throat. When Frank came off, he shoved his cock so far down Spuds throat, Spud could not breath. Frank kept his cock pushed as far down Spuds throat as physically possible for a good thirty

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved seconds. Spud wanted to gag, but with the cock blocking his throat, all he could do was thrash his hands by his side. Soon he lost consciousness for awhile. When he came too, he was alone, lying in the stall. There was a horrible taste in his mouth. After Frank shot his wad, he pushed Spud away from him. To his surprise, Spud fell in a heap at his feet. The little chicken-shit passed out. He couldnt even take a little wiener sandwich. He had no respect for Spud, thinking he was a weakling who needed his two older brothers around to take up for him. Frank despised Spud for his unwillingness to stand up and be a man. Fuck em. He is not my stupid kid, Frank thought as he buttoned up his trousers. Damn, that was good. He was going to made every effort to have a little throat action with the bastard every couple of weeks. Sure beat the hell of out loose pussy from a nagging woman who wasnt giving him any right now. A satiated Frank headed back to the house. Time for a leisurely crap.

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Spud was angry. He was more than angry. He was livid with rage. He was fightin mad. He stood, brushed the straw off his shirt and trousers and head. Catch flies? Hell no! He was not going to waste any effort trying to catch flies. He was going to kill one; not a fly, but its precursor, a maggot. A lousy, green shitfilled maggot. They always kept a 22 caliber pistol in the feed room. It was common when working around the barn to find an unwelcome visitor, usually a rattlesnake but, sometimes a rabid raccoon, or fox, or skunk. Once there was a rabid bobcat that almost bit Joe before he could kill the crazed animal with the milk bucket by hitting it repeatedly. Since then, the pistol was kept in the handy feed room to dispose of unwanted creatures. That was how Spud felt about Frank. In his young mind, Frank was just as crazy and useless, and dangerous, as a rabid skunk.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud opened the feed room door. The small caliber pistol was hanging just inside the door. It may have been a small caliber, but the barrel was very long. For short distances, it was very accurate. He pulled it off the nail, spun the cylinder to verity it was loaded. It was. He headed for the house with revenge in his eyes and murder on his mind, each step toward his destination giving him greater and greater resolve to settle the score with Frank. But instead of getting it in the ass, or the mouth, Frank was going to get it in the head. Spud quietly opened the back door. He stepped onto the porch then removed his boots. He didnt want Frank to hear him coming. Stealthily, like he was a cougar stalking a deer stalking deer was actually one of his favorite pastimes, although not to kill the deer but only to observe it - he moved into the kitchen. He could hear sound coming from the television in the living room. To placate Mary, Frank had recently gone to Gainesville and bought a black and white television and a matching console radio. Spud slowly moved through the kitchen into the dining room. He peered around the door jamb into the living room. Someone was sitting on the couch watching television but it was not Frank. It was his mother, Mary. Just then he heard soft footsteps behind him. He spun around just as Frank reached for the pistol. Frank was too late to snatch the pistol away. Spuds arm was already moving as he started turning. Spud jerked the pistol up as he spun around and started pulling the trigger. The pistol held six shots. Spud fired all six shots. At the sound of the first shot, Spud could see Frank was startled. But when the second shot was fired, the startled look was replaced by fear, a fear like none Spud had ever seen. Only many years later when Spud was behind palace walls did he see such a look of fear again in the eyes of a slave. The fear was the look an evil man has when he stands before his judge and knows he must give an accounting of his behavior. It was a look of pure terror. Spud kept firing as Frank ran for his life. Out the back door he ran as fast as his aging legs could haul his lousy carcass. Frank headed for the perceived safety of the old outhouse. Spud, out of bullets, stood on the porch steps and yelled obscenities at him as he ran as fast as he could.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved It was a minor miracle Spud did not kill Frank. But, he was too angry; his hands were shaking so hard he could not hold the long pistol barrel as steady as it should have been. Out of the six shots fired, only one hit Frank, and it was just a glancing shot that caught his scalp. He only lost a little hair and skin.

Lord, God, what is going on? His mother screamed.

When she heard the first shot, she looked in the direction of the sound. It came from the dinning room. She quickly rose and ran into the dinning room. Through the kitchen, she could see Spud standing on the back porch, holding the pistol at his side. Her worst fears were realized. The conflict between her husband and her children had flared up again. Only this time it was Spud, her favorite, who was trying to kill her husband. She started crying. As long as Spud kept the pistol in his hand, Frank would not return to the house. He stayed in the old outhouse with the door safely secured from the inside. Mary forced herself to calm down and figure out what to do. She decided she had to get Spud out of the house until things calmed down. Maybe then she could think better. Right now she was scared and her mind was frozen. She did not know what else she could do but get Spud safely away. Spud did not give up the pistol until he and Mary were in the car and headed into town. Only after the ranch house was out so sight did Spud put the pistol in the glove box. Spuds distraught mother drove him into town. Joe was living in Fort Worth. He was stationed at the airbase there. Maybe she could send Spud to stay with him. She went to her brothers house and asked to use the telephone. While waiting for the operator to connect the call, Mary silently prayed he was home and would answer the telephone.

Soon, the operator merrily said, I have your party on the line, maam.

Joe, I need your help. She pleaded.

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Sure, ma. What can I do?

Its Spud and Frank. Frank did something to Spud today. I dont know what Frank did no one will tell me - but, Spud got the barn pistol and shot Frank.

Shot Frank? The little potato sprout? Good for him. Where did he shoot Frank? How is Frank?

Joes questioning along the line he took did not escape Mary. Joe never asked how Frank was. Obviously, Joe did not care if Frank was alive. Or maybe, he was hoping Frank was dead. He was really only concerned about Spud.

I dont know anything. No one will tell me what is going on. I need a place for Spud to stay until things cool down. Can he stay with you for awhile?

Sure, he can. Love to have him. You want me to come get him?

No, I need to get him away this afternoon. I can put him on the bus to Fort Worth. Can you pick him up at the bus station tonight?

No problem. Tell him Ill be there waiting for him.

Thanks Joe.

Anytime. Ill take good care of him. Hey mom, I love you. Joe chuckled. Damn! The little sprout shot Frank. Good for him. Someone needed to shot that fucking bastard and put him out of his misery.

I love you too, son. Goodbye.

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After paying her brother $2.00 for the long distance telephone call, she drove Spud over to the bus station and bought him a ticket to Fort Worth. While they sat on a bench waiting for the bus to come, Mary tried to get Spud to talk about what happened.

Spud, tell me why you shot Frank.

Ive aint got nothing to say. If you want to know why, ask him.

I want you to tell me.

Well, I aint gonna tell you and thats all I got to say about things.

Mary sat beside Spud wondering what could have happened between the two that lead Spud to do such a thing. She thought of Richard and the dynamite. She never understood why Richard wanted to kill Frank, either. She knew Frank could be harsh, especially with the boys. But, from what she observed, he never really did anything to justify their trying to kill him. Just then the bus to Gainesville where Spud would change buses before continuing on to Fort Worth, pulled up. Mary pulled $10.00 from her purse and handed it to Spud..

This is all I have right now Spud. Give it to Joe for groceries. I will send some more in a few days. Also, I am going to pack your clothes and send them to you. I love you, son.

I love you, mom, Spud sputtered as he choked the tears back.

Goodbye, son.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud closed his eyes as tight as he could. Maybe he could squash the tears from flowing. He felt his throat close up tight, his chest constricted, and suddenly the tears felt like hot wax flowing down his cheeks. The pain was falling off his chin onto his shoes. Spud turned around without another word and got on the bus. He couldnt say goodbye, the pain was too much. In a moment the bus pulled away. Mary walked over to her car and got in. She sat there for the next two hours and cried. Spud spent the rest of the summer with his brother in Fort Worth. Just down the road from his house on Meandering Way was Burgers Lake, a springfed swimming hole. There Spud met thirteen year old Zelda, a budding girl who was willing to make him forget Frank every moment Spud spent with her. Spud spent every moment possible with the enchanting Zelda. Zelda called Spud her Twinkle Star. For the first time in his young life, he felt his heart beginning to heal from the tragic death of Billie Jean six years earlier.

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Chapter 10 Leaving
Diana woke up feeling lethargic. She was also cramping a little. It was not time for her period so she did not put anything between her legs before she went to bed, but this morning she could feel a little wetness. Lately, she fatigued quicker than usual. But, her appetite seemed to be okay. She was eating more than usual, although she noticed the smell of some foods made her queasy. After breakfast, she thought a little fresh air would help her feel better. After cleaning the kitchen, she made a mason jar full of ice tea then she put on her shoes and meandered out to the barn.

Spud was in the barn cleaning stalls when Diana hailed him from the barn door.

Hey, Spud!

Yea! Whacha want?

Ive got some ice tea for you.

Comin

Spud came from the rear of the barn, carrying the pitch fork in his left hand. It was the same pitch fork Frank used to murder John. Every time Spud used the fork, he looked at the dark brown stains on the handle where it entered the hilt. He wished the fork handle would break so they could buy a new one. Spud did not like looking at the blood stains. He always lifted as much weight with the fork as he could, hoping one day the handle would snap. But, hickory handles were just too damn strong.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Diana handed Spud the jar of ice tea. Quart mason jars were used not only for canning, but also for drinking glasses. Spud smelled earthy, a musty hay kind of smell. He had hay all over his shirt and hair. Diana reached out and tousled his hair. A few stems of hay fell into the mason jar.

Enough! Ya got hay in my tea, Spud laughingly shouted.

Spud gave Diana a light tap on the ass. That was the signal to start a general session of grab-ass. Spud and Diana chased each other around the barn, throwing dry cow patties at each other. Soon Diana started climbing the ladder to the hayloft. Spud ran over to the ladder just before she reached the top. When he looked up, ready to toss the large piece of cow shit at her, he could see her legs and thighs, framed by the white cotton panties she was wearing. As he looked up at her, his penis started feeling weird, a feeling he never felt before. It was an odd sensation but, a pleasant one. Diana reached the top of the ladder, quickly hopping onto the hayloft floor. When she looked down and saw Spud looking up, she let out a small scream.

You were looking up my dress! she laughingly exclaimed. Take that, you beast!

Diana threw a wet cow patty straight down into Spuds upturned face. The wet cow shit splattered all over him, covering his face and neck. Fortunately, his mouth was closed when the patty struck his forehead.

Damn! That was a wet patty.

Thats what you deserve for looking up my dress and trying to see my pussy.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Pussy? Spud had never heard a girl say that titillating word before. The sound of a female voice saying the word, even if it was his sister, made his cock even harder.

Spud walked over to the milking stall. A bucket of water was kept nearby. A towel hung above it. Both were used to wash the cows utter before each milking. Spud dipped the towel into the bucket and cleaned himself up. All the while, he could hear Dianas taunts she eagerly tossed out for his edification.

Caint catch me! Haha, ya caint catch me, shit-face!

How does the world look through shit-filled eyes? she mockingly exclamined.

Hey, shit-face!

Keep it up, Diana. Im gonna make ya pay.

As soon as Spud cleaned his face, he ran to the ladder and climbed it as fast as he could. When Diana saw his head rise above the floor, she squealed and started running toward the large pile of hay at the far end of the loft. Spud hit the floor running and caught her around the waist just before they hit the hay. Both went tumbling into the soft, dried grass. Spud grabbed Diana, turned her over on her back then sat across her waist, pinning her down. Spud knew Diana was ticklish. He started strumming her ribs with both hands, working the fingers lightly from the pit of her underarms down to her waist. Diana was laughing uproariously.

Stop it! Youre gonna make me pee in my panties!

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved I dont care! You threw shit in my face. Youre gonna pay! Go ahead and pee in your panties!

Spud continued tickling her for a few more seconds. Finally, he stopped. She laughed so much she was breathless, as if she had run too far. It was a minute, or so, before she could stop laughing. Spud rolled off Diana and lay beside her.

Both lay beside each other for a few minutes, enjoying the closeness of two people who loved each other and needed no words to express that love. It was sufficient to just be together and share the moment. It had been more than three years since that terrible time when they both hid in the hayloft and cried together the day Frank raped Diana. Spud finally broke the silence.

You remember when we used to make tunnels in the hay so we could have our own clubhouse?

Yea, I remember. The last one we made was the one we hid in when Frank raped me. We havent made one since.

I wish mother had never married The Bastard. Spud said matter-of-factly.

Diana nodded her assent.

I never told you he raped me when I was ten.

Diana could sense the intense pain and hurt in the words Spud spoke.

Raped you? How did he rape you? she asked incredulously.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved One morning I was milking. He made me pull down my pants and underwear then he pushed his cock into my ass. He kept pushing in and out until he put something in my ass. It made me crap and my ass hurt for a long time. It still hurts sometimes.

Oh, my god Spud! I never knew. The creepy bastard. He fucked me in the ass, too. It was when he raped me. I couldnt stop him. He was like a crazed man. I cried for a long time afterward. My ass hurt for a long time, also. Did he do anything else to you?

Like what?

Did he make you suck his cock? I had to do that sometimes.

No. He tried to make me suck it once but I told him if he put it in my mouth I was gonna bite it off. He just laughed and walked away. Spud could not bring himself to confess Frank made him suck his cock once.

Did he do anything else?

Spud thought for a moment. Should he tell his sister about Frank murdering John with the pitch fork? He decided he better not. Anyway, it was many years ago and nobody would do anything about it now.

No. Other than the beatings he always gave me. I sure do hate him. I hate him for what he did to Joe, Richard and you. You know I cannot remember us having a good time after mother started seeing him. I was always afraid to have a good time.

Why were you afraid?

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved I was always afraid he would get mad and do something to hurt me. So, I just never had a good time when he was around. But, maybe we can have some good times one day.

Spud, I want to tell you something.

Okay.

I was terrified when Frank started making me have sex with him the day he raped me and you caught us. You know, he was really raping me. I did not want him to fuck me and I tried to stop him but, he was too strong. Afterward, he told me if I ever said anything to anyone, he would kill you. I also hated Frank for what he did to you, Joe, and Richard and for what he was doing to me. I didnt like it at first, but after awhile, I began to like it very much then I did not want him to stop. Except when he stuck it in my butt. That hurt a lot and I did not like that. After that first time, Frank and I made love at least once a week for awhile. I liked it more than anything else but, I still hated him. He always made me orgasm several times when we fucked and that was a wonderful thing. Am I a bad person because I liked it?

I dont know. I guess if you liked it, then how can it be bad? How can you be bad if it was something you liked? You didnt hate him for what he did to you?

Spud was not an oracle. His very limited knowledge of sex and the strict moral code of the times severely limited his ability to offer sage advice regarding sexual matters. Diana did not seem to realize Spud was not the proper person to tender judgments regarding acceptable behavior for the era. His words did seem to ease her sense of guilt for enjoying sex with her step-father whom she hated; she seemed to be comforted when Spud did not condemn her for her behavior.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Several weeks passed by before Diana felt really out of sorts. She was having headaches, her breasts were swollen and tender, and this morning when she rose from bed, she felt sick at her stomach. After throwing up, she did not feel as queasy, but returned to bed, anyway. She missed her period the previous week. She was always regular, so she was alarmed she was late. Maybe the symptoms she had was related to her late period. She lay in bed and earnestly prayed her period would come today and these awful feelings would go away. Sixteen year old Diana did not know she was six weeks pregnant. When Diana did not show to help prepare breakfast, Mary was slightly annoyed. She counted on Diana to help around the house. Lately it seemed Diana was getting lazy. Mary had to chastise her several times when she was slow to help. She wiped her hands on her apron. She was going to light a fire under that girls bottom this morning. When Mary walked into Dianas bedroom, she could tell Diana was not feeling well.

Are you okay, my dear? Mary asked.

No, moma. I dont feel good. I threw up this morning and I have a slight fever.

My poor, sweet girl. I will make you something good to drink that will settle your stomach. Go ahead and stay in bed this morning. I can make-do without you.

Mary returned to the kitchen and prepared Diana a cup of hot tea to help her feel better. After breakfast, she announced she and Dorothy were driving into Gainesville for the day. She wanted to purchase material to make everyone new clothes, shirts for the males and dresses for the females.

With Frank home for the day he had the day off from work - and Mary gone, Spud knew what he could expect. So, when no one was paying attention,

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved he grabbed his single shot rifle and headed for the timber. Might as well go hunting all day and stay away from Frank. As soon as Mary was gone, Frank wandered into Dianas bedroom. He could tell she was not feeling well so he left her alone, for awhile. Around noon he returned to her bedroom. She was sitting in bed reading. She lowered the book when he stood beside the bed.

Darlin. You feel like playing some games with daddy? Frank asked?

It did not make any difference if she felt like playing games, or not. When Frank was ready to make his move, he was going to fuck her regardless of her desires. Might as well acquiesce and get it over with. Diana laid the book down on the night table. Frank was already taking his pants off. Frank was enjoying himself. Sixteen year old pussy was wonderful. He thought marrying Mary was probably the best decision he ever made. Mary was too timid to stand up to him so he got whatever he wanted. Yep, he was king of the castle and everyone knew it. His reverie was suddenly and rudely interrupted.

You bastard! Mary shouted. She came charging in the room, screaming at the top of her lungs. You sorry bastard. Suddenly, she turned and ran from the room. Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed putting his pants on when Mary returned with a frying pan. She was moving so fast and Frank was so startled, she managed to swing the heavy iron skillet before he could put up any defense. The flat iron caught him on the forehead. Frank was out like a light bulb gone bad. He slithered to the floor where he lay unconscious with his pants only pulled up to his knees.

Diana was crouched in the bed crying uncontrollably.

Diana, get out of bed. Go wash yourself then put on some clothes.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Diana did as she was instructed. As soon as she came back into the bedroom, her mother told her to get in the car. Frank was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. He was still groggy from the beaning Mary gave him. Now Mary stood over him with his own 30-30 caliber rifle.

Im drivin over to the Westmorelands. Im gonna call the sheriff and tell him you raped Diana. You best pack your things and get out of here as fast as you can. If youre still here when we get back, Im gonna shoot you. You here me, you bastard?

Frank could only nod his head. He was dazed from the blow to the head, but he was probably more dazed from getting caught doing what he liked most. Mary told Diana and Dorothy to get in the car. She went to the barn looking for Spud but could not find him. Giving up the search for Spud, she drove the two girls over to the Westmorelands.

Johnny was not home, having gone away on business for Senator Johnson, but his wife was. She was shocked to see all three women crying. During the drive over to the Westmorelands, Diana and Dorothy told Mary about the abuse they suffered. Mary was shocked and hurt. She knew Frank could be overbearing, but she had no idea he could be so brutal to her daughters. The tears from all three were freely flowing when Mrs. Westmoreland invited them into her house.

Mary offered a short explanation and asked if she could use their telephone to call the sheriff. Mrs. Westmoreland assented. While Mary called the sheriff, Mrs. Westmoreland hovered around the girls with handkerchiefs and cups of hot tea.

Mary waited several hours before returning to the house. Frank was gone when she arrived. When Mary went into town Monday morning to speak to an

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved attorney about a divorce, she learned the sheriff had arrested Frank at the county border. Frank was trying to escape the certain prison sentence he was now facing.

On Tuesday morning, Diana was sitting at the dinning table. The smell of the breakfast food was too much for her. Suddenly she started throwing up. Mary was quick to recognize the symptoms. On Friday the doctor confirmed Diana was about seven weeks pregnant.

Three months later Mary and Frank were divorced. In the same month, Frank plead guilty to statutory rape. He received a 10 year prison sentence. Diana never returned to school and Frank never touched any of the children, again. _______________________________________________________

Spud was in seventh grade class when it was announced President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas. The short, fat music teacher told the 24 students to bow their heads and pray. When she looked up after a moment, she saw Spud was the only one whose lips were still and whose head was not bowed.

Mrs. Lutz kept a large piece of driftwood behind her desk. She claimed she found the flat piece of hardwood while vacationing one summer at Padre Island. She kept the piece of wood for use as a paddle. When she saw Spuds head was not down, she grabbed the formidable piece of wood, then waddled to the back of the classroom. She silently came up behind Spuds desk.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

She was quick; much faster than one would assume given her 53 height and 325 pounds. She hit Spuds ass three times before it really registered she

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved was beating him. Actually, since he was sitting at his desk, she really could not hit his ass. She hit his lower back, right at the tailbone. Spud had to take abuse from a step-father, but he did not have to take the same shit from a school teacher. He jumped up and snatched the board out of her hands.

Ya hit me again, and Im gonna kill you. Spud angrily exclaimed.

Lutz took a step back. She was speechless. All the other kids, their attention riveted by the dramatic scene unfolding before their shocked eyes, gasped when he said he would kill her. He meant it. He was getting tired of adults thinking his ass was a disposable punching bag to be used for their pleasure.

Spud walked out of the classroom, carrying the paddle with him. Mrs. Lutz never saw the paddle again. He walked down to the principals office, handed him the paddle and explained why he was there. Spud spent the rest of the school day reading in the library.

Fuck Kennedy. And fuck Mrs. Lutz. He was going to bow his head when he was good and fucking ready and not when some fat-ass teacher told him too. Why would he pray for someone he never met? He didnt give a shit about Kennedy. If there were going to be any praying, it was going to be for God to get him out of the hell he lived in every day.

After school, a still seething Spud stood at the end of the school building, standing in the shade. While Spud was waiting for the school bus, Jimmy Darnell came up to him.

Hey, Spud. Whats it feel like to get your butt busted? He gloated.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud and Jimmy had a feud going back to first grade. Jimmy had asked Spud to play with him on the see-saw. Spud readily agreed and both boys took off running over to an empty see-saw. They went up and down several times. Suddenly, while Spud was high in the air, Jimmy jumped off, leaving Spud to come crashing down onto the hard ground. Spuds back hurt for two weeks after that despicable act of cowardice. Of course, Jimmy thought the results were funny. He had been laughing for six years. Jimmy was a bully. Several years older than Spud, from time to time Jimmy would push Spud around while they were on the playground. Spud had learned long ago to avoid walking nearby the bully since he always tried to trip Spud. It was about time to show him play time was on, for real. Spud stonily looked at Jimmy then just smacked him as hard as he could to the temple. Jimmy dropped to the concrete like a sack of potatoes thrown off the back of a truck. Spud was on top of him before he could collect his senses. Sitting astride his back, Spud threw fist after fist into the back of his head. Every time Spuds fist smashed into Jimmys head, it would smack the concrete. Years of suffering abuse at the hands of others gave Spud a strength he did not know he possessed and an emotional intensity that bordered on the mystical. Spud mindlessly beat Jimmy until his fists hurt so much he had to stop. God, it felt good to finally release all that anger by beating the shit out of a bully. Fortunately, no teachers or bus drivers were nearby. Spud stood up, breathless but filled with a vitality, a euphoria, he had never felt before. It felt good to beat the holy living crap out of someone else for a change. Jimmy was still lying on the concrete, emitting low moaning noises. At least he was still alive.

Spud told him, If you ever say anything to me again, Im gonna beat you so bad, youre goin to spend a month in the hospital. And you owe me an apology for jumping off the see-saw. You hear me?

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Jimmy rolled over. His face looked horrible. He had knots on his forehead where it smacked the cement and blood was flowing from his nose. He acknowledged he heard Spud loud and clear with a muffled, Im sorry.

Spud got on the bus when it pulled up in front of the school fifteen minutes later. His lower back was dark blue, even black in some areas and it hurt. Fuck Kennedy and Lutz, both. Fuck Darnell. His hate for abusive and bullying people and his resentment for societys acquiescence regarding corporal punishment just grew another few notches. Fuck everyone. No one was going to use him for a punching bag and he was not going to tolerate bullying of any kind, anymore. Although his back and both hands hurt, he felt good about himself. It felt good to fight back. From now on, if anyone tried to bully him, he was going to fight back. The following Monday, Mrs. Lutz apologized to him in front of the entire class. It was not known what the principal said to her, but she never gave Spud any further grief. Neither did Jimmy who became a devoted friend to Spud.

_____________________________________________

Spuds mother did not know what to do. She was aware Frank had been an abusive step-father. Maybe some of the abuse was deserved at least to the extent discipline had to be maintained, but she now knew Frank exceeded the proscribed limits, especially when he was drinking. Still, without him, she did not know how she could have managed those years she and Frank were married. Now Frank was gone and Spud had developed a nasty habit of getting into quarrels at school that always ended in him beating some student to a pulp, usually a student several years older than himself. Added to that mess, the previous fall, the schools band director hit Spud 33 times for marching out-ofstep. Spud retaliated after the 33rd wallop by bashing the band director upside the head with his baritone instrument.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved The band director, a tyrannical Mr. Banks, was a perfectionist. His bands always won first place in the various marching competitions he entered them in. He would not settle for less and he did not tolerate anyone marching out-of-step. One Wednesday last November before football season was over, Spud was injured practicing football after school. His school routine consisted of playing in the schools band during the last period of the day. Then he left for the field house and dressed for football practice. On this particular Wednesday, he was leaping to catch a pass when two defenders, one from each side, crashed into his knees. He came down in a heap, knees hurting so much he could not stand. The two trainers helped him off the field and into the field house. He sat in the whirlpool for over thirty minutes. When he got out, he could barely walk, his knees a blotchy yellow and purple. The next day, the band director took the band members outside to practice marching. Spud told Mr. Banks his knees hurt too much to march, but Mr. Banks was unsympathetic. He ordered Spud to take his baritone instrument and fall in with the rest of the band. Spud, always trying to please, meekly did as he was told. So, the band goes marching off. Spud was not able to keep up with the other band members. Soon Mr. Banks was in Spuds face yelling at him to get in step. He kept yelling and yelling but Spud could barely keep up, much less stay in step. His swollen knees were threatening to collapse. Mr. Banks, exhibiting the profound wisdom of the time, took his paddle board he always carried, and began hitting Spud in the ass and yelling for him to get in step. The 33rd time Mr. Banks hit Spud, Spud stopped. When Mr. Banks walked around to get in front of Spud to yell in his face, Spud smacked Mr. Banks upside the head with the brass instrument he was carrying. A dazed Mr. Banks stood perfectly still and watched his band march off in one direction while Spud stormed off in another, leaving his instrument on the field. The next morning, Spud went straight to the principals office and told him everything that happened. Fortunately, the football coached backed up his story of being injured. Spud never knew what the principal said to Mr. Banks, but when

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved school started again after the Christmas holiday, Mr. Banks was no longer the band director. And Spud, who loved music so much, was no longer in the band. No one knew where Mr. Banks was. Six weeks later the local newspaper reported Mr. Banks, having moved to the El Paso School District during the Christmas break, was killed driving across railroad tracks by a train. The school district renamed the band hall after Mr. Banks. Spud didnt give a shit one way, or the other. As far as he was concerned, the fastest route to go from being a respected individual to one who was loathed was through his ass. Added to all those school incidents, Spud was not listening to his mother anymore. He walked around with a sullen attitude and would not listen to anyone. Mary tried to speak to him several times about his attitude, but he always walked away. Finally, she felt she could not properly supervise him anymore. They had to either reach an understanding, or else. She did not know what or else was but figured it would work itself out. The Sunday morning she found a case of Coors in the trunk of her car was the breaking point.

When Spud woke and saw the 24 empty cans of Coors sitting near the kitchen sink, his eyes darkened.

Who poured out my beer?

I did.

Why?

You are not going to live here and drink.

Ill do what I damn well please.

Not if you are living here.

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Then I guess I wont live here, anymore.

Thats fine by me.

Spud gave his mother a searching look. She was serious. Spud walked out of the house; he never said goodbye, and he never looked back. He knew his mother was standing in the doorway. He knew she wanted to say something. What could she say? Spud hoped she would remain silent as he walked away. Anyway, what did she have to say that he wanted to hear now? I love you? In the few short years of his existence he had never heard her say I love you. Why would she say it tonight? The relationship between them was now far too dark for Spud to fathom what thoughts might be racing through her mind as she came to grips with the necessity of pushing her child into the inky black darkness to face an uncertain future. Spud sullenly scurried from the porch, not interested in anything she might want to say. She had fourteen years to tell him what she wanted to say. In those fourteen years, he could only remember her yelling at him. So why pause at the precipice of his life to only listen to her yell one more time? He could not get off the porch fast enough. Spud carried her genes, at least 50% of her genes. Spud knew humans strive to reproduce their genes. They invest so much of their life into that effort. When they are successful, their offspring, carrying 50% of their genes, represent their continuum. Humans invest everything that they are, including their lifes resources, the fruits and labors of their daily lives, and their hopes and dreams into the product of their sperm and egg that become their continuum. Spud paid attention during science class when the teacher spoke about Mendelson and his experiments with plants. Supposedly, the investment for females comes with a much higher cost than for males. Females not only contribute the egg to the continuum, but they also must nurture that egg for many years afterwards. So, how can a woman so

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved easily cast off that investment? He just didnt care, anymore. He never looked back and he never said goodbye. Spud hated to say goodby under the best of circumstances and now was not the best. As Spud walked away he thought of her sad eyes and her slumped shoulders. What could Spud have said? What was there to say? Nothing came to mind. Nothing, not even goodbye. In fourteen years, they really never had anything to say to each other. The landscape in the rearview mirror lay wasted, yesterdays miasma overwhelming the senses. The bridge was burned; no, it was not burned, it was blown up. The view in the rearview mirror was beyond wasted, it was repugnant. Spud just tossed out his past like last week's leftovers, neither wanting to keep any portion for personal consumption or, wishing to apply the remainder for any gainful, or useful purpose. He certainly did not want to share his past with anyone. The memories did not seem sufficiently memorable enough to even consign them to the compost heap at the top of yesterdays history pile. He had one overwhelming thought as he stepped off the porch. Some day he would kill Frank for what he did to Spuds family.

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Book 2 Ein Bichen Frieden Chapter 1 Dixie's Corner

When Spuds ride into town left him just before midnight beside U.S. Highway 82, three miles east of Saint Jo, he was uncertain where his destination lay. He was leaving the remains of a desperate life behind and undertaking this journey into the unknown landscape of his future without regard for destination. Wherever he was going, whatever the future held for him, it could not hold any more discontent for him than the miserable life he was leaving behind. He was not sure what lay down the road he ventured upon that early summer night. He assumed his confidence and youth would see him to his destination, wherever it was. Wherever and whatever the future held, one thing was certain, Frank would not be a part of it until Spud was ready to kill him. After ten days of hard traveling, mostly by foot, and nine nights sleeping in ditches and culverts, Spud was near his final objective. The bullet-riddled sign informed Spud Dixie's Corner was four more aching miles down the hot, sticky asphalt. So, there really was a place called Dixie's Corner, after all. The sign was the first real evidence such a place existed that he had ever seen. Even the occasional letter he received was not postmarked Dixie's Corner. Spud was uncertain where Dixie's Corner was when he left the remains of a desperate life, now far behind him and undertook this journey into the unknown landscape of his future. Spud hated every day he had to live with that despicable drunk Frank. When his divorced mother re-married and the creepy, drunken, sot of a stepfather raped him, he knew one day he was going to get justice. Not the legal system kind of justice, but the frontier kind of justice. One day he was going to kill Frank. He was not sure what lay down the road he ventured upon that early spring night. He assumed his confidence and youth would see him to his

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved destination, wherever it was. After ten days of hard traveling, mostly by foot, and nine nights sleeping in ditches and culverts, he was near his destination. The kindly, old farmer let him off at the intersection of U.S. 82 and State Highway 8.

Thanks for the ride.

Head south, young man and you will reach Dixies Corner in about an hour, if you dont get a ride, the old geezer said as he pulled away.

Spud supposed the old man thought he was an energetic kid but the truth was, he was about at the end of his endurance. Four miles. Might as well be 20, or 120, miles. But, he was mentally and physically tough for his age. He would walk every step of the remaining four miles without any remorse for leaving behind a life and a man he hated. Once, when he was ten, an aunt chased him off her farm one, hot July day. She was angry because someone had damaged the farm pick-up. Naturally, she thought he was the guilty culprit. As he was walking back to town, his uncle came driving up in the pick-up. His uncle told him to get in and he would drive him home. Spud angrily shook his head. He wasnt going to accept a ride from him, or anyone in his family. His granddaughter caused the damage, not Spud. The anger he felt for being falsely accused fueled his legs during the twenty-eight miles he walked to get home that summer day two years previously. In those days, he could walk for any amount of distance, especially if he was angry. Now, he was momentarily disappointed that the ride was not going any further. But, seeing the sign lifted his spirits such that the thought of a mere four mile walk seemed as a stroll in a garden, the bountiful garden of fortitude, for having made it this far without giving up. But what choice did he have? The alternatives seemed far worse than the unknown future he ventured into when he left an ineffectual mother and an abusive step-father so many miles back. Looking back, he could see the future and it was not pleasant; it was frightening.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Looking forward, he could only see the moment at hand and it was not frightening, only tiring. The desire to survive is a strong component of the human psyche. It must be, otherwise humans could not survive as a species. The desire to survive is fed by hope and watered with faith. Despair is its poison. The struggle to survive is characterized by the conflict between hope and despair. At the moment he saw the sign for Dixies Corner, he was not certain which emotion had the upper hand and controlled his psyche. He was too tired to care. The hike down the last bit of road to Dixie's Corner was not without some degree of pleasure in the warm sunshine of the day. After spending nights shivering in the cold ditches with little to cover him except for a few shreds of newspaper he found, he welcomed the heat on his tough skin. As he walked, he mentally calculated the miles back to his former life. Of the 225 or so miles, he had walked at least 175 with little water and no food. Not bad for a 12 year old, he guessed. He plodded on, trying not to think how much his feet hurt and how much his heart ached.

Please feet, just get me there; please, just one more step.

As he came up the hill after crossing Holly Branch, The Corner came into view. With the little remaining strength he possessed, he stumbled toward his brothers country grocery store, thankful he finally found his destination.

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Chapter 2 Finding Peace

As Spud came up out of Holly Branch hollow, he could see the sign several hundred yards down the highway on the right side of the roadway. It read Joes Gas and Grocery. Spud trudged up to the G & G, his shoulders sunk about as far as they could. There was a oak bench outside the stores front door with several oak tables and chairs nearby. No one was around so Spud flopped down on the oak bench. He was tired, so tired for the first time he could remember, he did not think about Frank. It felt good to get into the shade and rest awhile.

W.Ws mother was in the kitchen preparing sandwiches for lunch. With six kids home for summer break, lunch was a large production. W.W. was in the living room watching television.

W.W.!

What, ma?

I need you to go over to the store and get a loaf of bread.

Okay.

W.W. slowly rose from the recliner. At 6 foot and 1 inch, he was not particularly tall, but at 250 pounds he was big for his age. Unless it was football practice, W.W. tended to move slowly wherever he went. W.W. opened the front door of the Big House and stepped off the porch. He could see the G & G across the highway. There appeared to be a homeless bum lying on the old oak bench just outside the front door of the country grocery store. W.W. grinned. Joe, the owner and proprietor of the G & G, did not like for bedraggled strangers to hang around the store. Although they were out in the

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved country, sometimes a homeless guy passing through would try to panhandle outside the store. Joe was quick to chase them away. But this bum seemed to be at ease lying on the bench. As W.W. came near the store he realized the individual lying on the bench was sleeping. W.W. stopped and surveyed the bum. The soles of his shoes had holes as did his pants and shirt. It appeared neither the clothes, nor the person had seen any soap for a long time. Upon closer scrutiny, W.W. realized the figure he was examining was no older than he. With a shake of his head, he opened the door to the grocery store and walked inside. W.W. looked to see who was minding the counter. Joe liked to take an afternoon siesta so W.W. was not surprised to see his hired hand behind the counter. Marilyn was young and pretty. W.W. was always willing to hike across the road for a chance to see her.

Hi, Marilyn. How are you? W.W. politely inquired.

Im fine W.W. How are you? she responded.

As W.W. walked over to the bread rack, he kept his eyes on the svelte figure behind the counter. Her breasts were magnificent behind the thin, floral print dress. W.W. dreamed about those breasts. He picked up a loaf of bread and headed toward the counter. As he neared the counter, he could see Maryilyn had a magazine tucked behind the cash register. So that was why she did not chase away the bum.

Im doing okay. Say, who is the bum sleeping on the bench outside?

Marilyn gave W.W. a quizzical look.

I didnt know anyone was outside.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Yea, there is a dirty, ragged bum sound asleep outside. You know Joe is going to be upset if he sees him sleeping on the bench.

Marilyn was already moving out from behind the counter, headed toward the front door.

Well, Ill see about this, she retorted.

Spud was sound asleep when he was startled by the hard prod of a broom stick. He opened his sleepy eyes to see a beautiful young girl, about seventeen years old, poking him with a broomstick.

Hey! What are you doing? he exclaimed as he sat up.

Marilyn took a step back. W.W. was right. This bum needed a bath.

We do not allow bums to sleep on the bench, Marilyn explained. You need to move on.

Spud gave her a quizzical look. Im not a bum, he angrily replied. My brother owns this store. And who are you?

Marilyn was amazed. How could this dirty, bedraggled creatue be related to the handsome and well groomed Joe? W.W. was amused to hear Spud make such a preposterous claim. This was interesting. In the interest of protecting the health of his nose, he kept a short distance behind Marilyn.

I work for Joe, Marilyn explained.

Well, where is he? Spud impatiently asked.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Hes taking his afternoon break.

Where can I find him?

He lives in the house behind the store. I assume he is in the house.

Thanks.

Spud started walking toward the far corner of the store, intent on finding the house and asking Joe if he could stay with him for awhile.

He sure looks like he needs something to eat. Awful skinny boy, W.W. murmured.

He needs a change of clean clothes and a bath first, Marilyn observed as Spud turned the corner of the store and W.W. hurried off to deliver the loaf of bread to his mother. As she turned to go back into the store, Marilyn wondered what Spud would look like after he was cleaned up.

Unknown to Marilyn and W.W., Spud would have enthusiastically agreed with both of them. At the moment, he was just thankful he finally arrived at Dixies Corner. As soon as he spoke with Joe, he wanted to take a bath then sleep for awhile.

The times were turbulent. The turbulence was mainly due to rampaging hormones and sometimes, rampaging parents, neighbors, landowners, preachers, school teachers, and law enforcement officials. The civil unrest engulfing the rest of the country was far removed from The Corner. While the Vietnam War, the civil rights movement, and feminist demonstrations were incessantly portrayed every night on broadcast television, Spud supposed to aid

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved the digestion of the majority of Americans, The Corner boys paid scant attention to the far away events. The 1960's was a decade of dramatic change in the social fabric of American society. Although much of the country seemed to be deeply embroiled in the heated social issues of the day, like a leeward tidal pool tucked neatly out of the path and protected from of the swirling currents rushing by in a distorted dance of passion and destruction, Dixie's Corner and the families inhabiting The Corner, escaped the torrential waves ripping and tearing the rest of the country apart. In one small corner of the universe, the world was sane and normal in a world gone insane and abnormal. At least it was sane and normal in a comparative sense to the rioting, killing, burning, looting, and other mayhem sweeping the rest of the country. However, five young teenage boys, fueled by a love of play and energized by a goodly overdose of testosterone, managed to wreck a sufficient measure of their own havoc in the small, safe, sane, tidal pool known as Dixie's Corner, or simply, The Corner. Hippies and flower children were unknown oddities around their community and the drug culture, at least that portion of it that did not hang around the local Rexall Drug Store on Saturday afternoons sipping colas, slurping malts, and starring goggle-eyed at the latest object of their running amuck desire, inhabited some far away foreign land called Haight-Ashbury. The Corner folks did not understand, nor did they really care about, the radical and irrational social and political upheavals sweeping the remainder of the country. Rumors came to The Corner of people looking for themselves, not knowing where they were going, or where they came from. Seemed like a good proportion of the country was lost. Sure did appear funny to The Corner folks, as losing one's way is a peculiar situation always good for great laughter among country folk. They were amazed to learn young Spud had walked 225 miles without getting lost in order to get to his brothers home. For this deed, he gained their respect even before he met them.

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Book 3 Der Kapitn und Die Knige Haben Niemandsland Gemacht WORKING

Chapter A Marine For Mary

W.W. and Spud were slowly walking down the sandy lane leading to the Hankins House. Spud earnestly said to W.W., I appreciate your offer to stay in the Little House until graduation, but I would not feel comfortable taking advantage of your mom and dad.

W.W. scoffed, You wouldnt be taking advantage of anyone. I can bring you food and they would not even know you were staying there.

They wouldnt know but, I would. Nope, Im goin to go to Texarkana and enlist in the Marines.

Shit. You do realize there is a war going on and most likely you are goin to be sent to Nam. People are getting killed there.

I dont really care, W.W. What else is left for me to do? My brother is selling out and moving to Dallas. For some reason, he is keeping it a secret from me, as if he does not want me to know what is going on and I dont know why. I can only guess he does not want me to go with him. I got to take care of myself. So, what choices do I have? I can go to prison, or I can go into the Marines.

Well, why the Marines. Why not the Army, or Air Force?

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved My father was a career Army man and I wont ever do anything that sorry bastard did. And unless you are a pilot, the Air Force sucks. My brother was in the Air Force and from the stories he tells me, I dont think I would be a good fit for the Air Force. Those guys are just a bunch of hard-drinking, pansy-asses. At least they think they are hard-drinkin. They probably could not keep up with me and you, though. We sure drank a lot in the last three years, didnt we? I bet we spent a couple thousand dollars buying booze from Herschel. I still owe him $90. Nope, it is the Marines for me. I want to wear a uniform I will be proud to wear and I want to be a part of the best, at least at something.

W.W. just shook his head in amazement. In this day and age, when protests against the war and body bags were splashed all over the television screen every night during the newscast, he wondered how anyone could volunteer for the Marines, a sure, one-way ticket to the morgue. W.W. did not know that is exactly what Spud sought, a one-way ticket to eternity.

What about your mother?

What about her?

You havent seen her in what, three years?

Naw, its more like five years. I havent seen her since Ive been here. You know I run the store by myself when Joe goes home for his summer vacation. I do wish I could see her before I leave for boot camp. I might never get an opportunity to see her again. But, I dont have the money to take a bus and go home.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Sakina was so excited she ran all the way home. She could not wait to tell her family the wonderful news. In her first year at Bycullas St. Marys High School, the class body elected her class President. Although she had older classmates who opposed her, she was elected by an almost unanimous vote. Each of the three girls who ran against her only received two votes each. Sakina was the most popular fifteen year old girl in Byculla. No doubt it had something to do with her great beauty but, her dad would attribute her popularity to her winning smile and engaging personality. Sakina had never met a stranger, only people she had not yet cast her enchanting smile on.

_________________________________

W.W. met Flats at the Hankins House on Sunday three weeks before graduation. He wanted this conversation to be private for he wanted to give Spud a going away present and he wanted it to be a surprise.

Okay, W.W. Whatre yew up to, now? Flats drawled.

Spud is going to enlist in the Marine Corps and leave May first for boot camp.

Damn! Yew shore about that?

Yep, Im sure. Only thing he has been talking about for the past couple of weeks. I want to give him a going away surprise. I want you, Burner, and Stinky to help me.

Ill do what I can. Whatcha got in mind?

I want you to borrow your mothers car and take Spud to see his mother.

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Holy shit! Thats a couple hunerd miles from here. My ma aint gonna let me take her car that far.

Yea, I know. So I figured something out. Tell her you want to drive to Dallas to see about enrolling in Southern Methodist University. I bet shell let ya do that. Tell her you want to drive up there this Saturday, spend the night and come back Sunday afternoon. T ell her a couple of us are going with you so you are not all alone. You can tell her the university will give us a room in a doromotory to stay in Saturday night. Think that will work?

It may. All I can do is try. What about gas money? I dont have enough cash to buy gas there and back.

I got that taken care of. Burner, Flats and I will pay for the gas. You just get the car.

On Friday afternoon after school, they met at the Hankins House. After echanging greetings, W.W. looked at Spud with one of his seldom used serious looks.

Hey, Spud. The gang here wants to take you somewhere tomorrow. W.W. paused, looking closely at Spud for any reaction.

All right. Where do you want to go?

We aintt telling, else it would not be a surprise. But we will be gone until Sunday night.

I cant do that fellas. Joe always counts on me to work at the store

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved on Saturday and Sunday. It is the only time he has a chance to get a break from working there. Joe will get mad at me and I dont like to make him mad.

Dont worry about it. We already talked to Joe and he knows you are not going to be here this weekend. So, we will pick you up at 8:00 in the morning.

_______________________________________

When Spud discovered they were driving toward home, he became very quiet. Spud had tried to forget the mental, physical, sexual, and emotional abuse suffered at the hands of the hated Frank Williams. Now, too many bad memories were flooding back into his mind. Why did his friends think he wanted to visit the scene of the most terrible carnal events in his life?

Mary was home sitting on an old rocker on the front porch when W.W. drove up to the old farmhouse. Unknown to Spud, W.W. had called her the week before about this reunion. He spoke to Mary even before he asked Flats to drive them to Spuds old home. Just seemed the right thing to do. After all, W.W. wanted to insure Mary was still living in the house and her reception would be friendly.

As Spud exited the Cadillac, Mary ran to him and gave him a hug that squeezed the air out of his lungs. He was both embarrassed and pleased. He squeezed his beloved mother in return, careful though not to injure her. Mary was amazed at how much Spud had grown in the five years he was gone.

They talked long into the night, until the soft touch of dawn covered the distant hills. The other boys had retired after dinner, leaving Spud to be alone

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved with his mother. Mary rose from the couch and invited Spud into the kitchen. After donning an old apron, Mary began making breakfast.

Here, honey. Please roll this dough out for me.

Sure, ma. Spud took the red oak rolling pin from Marys outstretched hand. Spud easily recognized the long kitchen tool. He had seen Mary clobber Frank over the head and shoulders with it on a few special occasions. Spud was fond of such memories, but wished he never had them to begin with.

Honey, Frank was released from prison about two years after you left. I guess you didnt know that.

Spud cast a wary eye around. Hes not around here anywhere, is he?

Heavens no! Hes remarried and lives over in Bowie, now. He doesnt every come around here, thank goodness. His new wife has given him a little girl and boy now.

How did the bastard get out of prison so early?

He won a retrial on appeal and Dorothy refused to testify against him.

Why the hell not?

I think she loves him.

Why didnt you tell me then? I would have testified against him.

Dorothy begged me not to. Spud, you know Dorothy has a little girl, five

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved years old now. She is Franks daughter.

Spud was dumbfounded. He knew Frank had taken liberties with Dorothy, after all that is why he was sentenced to thirty years in prison, for statutory rape. But, Dorothy had fingered a high school boy from Nocona as the father. There was a dash to Mexico and a quick wedding. As soon as the baby was born, Dorothys husband had disappeared. No one knew where he went.

Has anyone heard from Troy?

No, not a word. It like he disappeared off the face of the earth.

Spud sometimes wondered if Frank had killed Troy and tied his body up to the base of the cliff at Rock Bluff. Those huge snapping turtles could eat a grown man in less than an hour. Or, maybe Frank fed him to the hogs as he had threatened to do to Spud so many times.

Darlin you were hurt so bad. Joe told me you seemed to have forgotten all about Frank and his evil deeds and you were healing up real well so, I did not want to re-open your wounds. Dorothy did not want to testify so I just wanted to let bygones be bygones.

Spud could see the tears beginning to cascade down her cheeks. He moved over and put his arms around her. Spud felt the wetness as his tears began to rain down upon his cheeks. Bygones be damned! He was going to get even with Frank, one day. They were both holding each other when W.W. came into the kitchen, yawning and stretching, with that ever-present smile seemingly mocking Spud and his mother. Quickly turning away, Spud returned to rolling out the bread dough while Mary moved over to the sink and pretended to wash her hands.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Sure smells good Mrs. Williams. Mind if I pour myself a cup of coffee?

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During the six hour drive home, Spud sat silently in the back seat. He never uttered a word. Fortunately, it was dark and none of the boys saw he silently cried the entire return trip. __________________________________________

Eight days before high school graduation, Spud caught a ride to Texarkana. He walked into the Marine Corps recruiters office and signed a three year contract. He did not tell anyone where he was or, where he was going.

Spud hitchhiked from Old Boston to Texarkana. He did not know where the Marine Corps Recruiting station was, but he figured he would ask around after he got into town. He was directed to the right place after an old man, sympathy in his eyes for the bedraggled young man, gave him directions.

Spud walked into the recruiting office and without any preliminaries, just blurted out he wanted to join the Marines. The two recruiting officers fell all over each other as they scrambled to be the first to get a contract in front of Spud to sign Before Spud signed the three year contract, he asked the recruiter what Marine Corps boot camp was like.

The devious recruiter asked, Did you play football in high school?

Spud innocently replied, Sure, for five years.

Boot camp is just like football practice, lied the facetious recruiter.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Spud later reflected that football practice did not consist of non-stop 24 hour work-outs; it did not have people shooting at him; or throwing hand grenades at him; filling his eyes and lungs with tear gas; nor did the football coaches hit him over the head, and in the stomach.

During the bus ride to Shreveport where the Marines would swear him into their particular brand of hell, Spud sat looking out the window. He did not know where he was, or where he was going. He never told anyone goodbye. He just left. He was 18 years old and as he stared out that lonesome window, he felt he had never been loved in his life. Never.

Certainly, his mother provided for him. She worked hard and she gave what she earned to her children. But not once had she ever said to any of her children that she loved them. And the number of times she had hugged Spud could be counted on one hand. As the miles passed, he wondered how a loving mother could let the awful things that happened to him and his brothers and sisters. Sure, she bashed Frank once in awhile, but it seemed more in selfdefense than in defense of her children.

Joe had been very good to Spud. He had tried to protect Spud when he was little but he left Spud all alone to face Frank every day for four years. Sure, he took Spud in after he left the Air Force and bought the Corner store. He provided for Spud, made sure he had decent clothes to wear to school. But, in five years of playing football, Joe never came to a single game to watch Spud. Joe never put his arm around Spud and he never said he loved him. Joe was a good caretaker, but Spud felt no more loved by Joe than he felt loved by Mary.

Nope, in his 18 years he had never felt loved, really loved. Sure, he had his Corner friends, but their bond was more of a comradeship born of a desire for mutual mishief, than a feeling of deep love. Also, he had strong feelings for Sheila,+ but they were crushed by the recent revelation she was sleeping with

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved practically the whole county. Spud wanted to hug someone and tell them he loved them very much. He wanted someone who would hug him and tell him the same thing. But, where would he find such a person. Not in his family or his circle of friends. Maybe that kind of love did not exist. But, Spud had seen such love displayed in television moves and shows so maybe it did exist. Spud realized he was all alone and had been his entire life. He cried during the entire trip to Shreveport.

Marine Corps boot camp was 12 weeks of constant physical pain and psychological pressure intended to weed out the weak and sickly. Spud was neither. In the third week of Phase Two, Spud and the rest of his platoon were on the Edson rifle range at Camp Pendleton, practicing for Fridays qualification day. The Marines believe every Marine, regardless of his specialty, is first and foremost a rifleman. Cooks, truck drivers, radiomen, air traffic controllers all must be able to fire the basic Marine Corps rifle as equally well as an infantryman. A Marine who is a non-qual carries with him an embarrassing burden that can only be erased by qualifying with the rifle at the next opportunity, usually 1 year after he reaches his permanent duty station. Due to his previous experience shooting along Red River, Spud found Qualification Week on the rifle range the easiest week in boot camp.

One day one of the platoons drill instructors came striding up to Spud. Spud was sitting on his footlocker cleaning his M14 rifle.

Private, we have received a letter from your mother inquiring about your well-being. It is not the Marine Corps job to coddle you maggots. You will answer her letter immediately and tell her what a great time you are having here in my Marine Corps and apologize for giving her reason to worry.

Before Spud could stand at attention, the drill instructor threw a letter into Spuds lap, turned around and marched off. Spud glanced at the addressee. It

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved was not addressed to the Marine Corps, but to the local congressional representative where Spuds mother lived.

From the first day on the rifle range Spuds Primary Marksmanship Instructor recognized he was working with an exceptional marksman. Although M-16 rifles were issued to the Marines in Vietnam, they were still in short supply so all recruits qualified using the M14 rifle. It was longer and heavier than the M16, but it was more accurate. Spud found it easy to dial-in the rifle and put all his rounds in the bulls-eye, regardless of the range, or the position he was firing from. He finished qualification day with a score sufficiently high to recognize him as a rifle expert. His score was 245 out of a possible 250. It was also the highest score in the training regiment and good enough to warrant promotion.

Graduation day finally came and it seemed to Spud every graduating Marine had at least one family member present for the ceremony, except him. With no one to share the moment, he proudly walked up to the drill instructor who pinned on his Eagle, Anchor, and Globe and gave him his new stripes as a Private First Class, or PFC. Base liberty for the rest of the afternoon followed the graduation ceremony.

When the regiment was dismissed, Spuds friend Mark shouted out to him, Hey, Spud! Want to come meet my parents and go with us to the commissary for lunch?

No thanks, Mark. I appreciate the invitation but this is a time when it should just be you and your folks. They will want to spend the time with you.

Ah, come on. They wont mind.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Nope. Im going to the hootch and get in my rack and sleep all afternoon. I want to get as much sleep as possible before we leave for infantry training tomorrow. If anyone wakes me up, Im gonna stick my bayonet in em.

Okay, spoil sport.

Spud was tired and sleepy. Twelve weeks of intense non-stop physical and psychological stress took its toll. He was thankful no one was there to share his moment, for he just wanted to sleepfor a month.

That evening after dinner the three drill instructors called the new Marines out of their hooches. Bring your footlockers to sit on, one of the stone-faced instructors shouted. After all 72 Marines in the training platoon were seated on their footlockers outside on the sidewalk, the head drill instructor, carrying several sheaves of paper in his big hand, in a voice with new-found respect said, Im going to call out your name, then I am going to tell you your assigned military occupational specialty MOS as it is called. Sergeant Knutson began going down the list of names. Adams, Darrell, Private, 0311, rifleman, Knutson shouted in his strong voice. Everyone could hear Private Adams groan. By the time Knutson was finished, the platoon discovered most of them were 0311s. What did they expect? The Vietnam War was going full bore and the Marines needed infantrymen, or cannon fodder as they were referred too. Spud was one of only a couple of Marines who were not assigned a 0311 MOS. Spuds MOS was 0621 - Field Radio Operator. 217

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Little did he know that night, he was set upon a course that would change him, forever.

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Sakina received the letter of acceptance on a Friday. Mail in India was slow. The postal authorities along the route had to inspect every piece of mail to insure it did not contain anything of value. Put money in an envelope in India and it was certain to be missing by the time the envelope reached its intended recipient. If nothing else, the Indian postal system was thorough in robbing its patrons.

Every day for two weeks she waited at the bottom of the stairs for the postman, hoping each day her letter of acceptance to the Indian Army Medical Training facility in Pune was in the mail.

Do you have it today? she excitedly asked the post carrier?

Not today, Sakina, the postal carrier would say. He could see her burgeoning excitement with each passing day the anticipated letter did not arrive.

What if she was not accepted to the school? he wondered.

Sakina would be crushed and there would be great disappointment among the close-knit community who lived on Spence Road. Everyone who lived in the lane knew of her desire to attend the best medical school in India. As the postman walked down the lane, dropping off letters at each building, he could

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved see the mostly women standing on their balconies, watching to see if he handed Sakina her special envelope with her letter of acceptance. When he finally handed Sakina her envelope with the sought-after acceptance letter, Sakina let out a squeal of delight, alerting the whole lane. Immediately, most of the people who lived in the lane were at their balconies, clapping and shouting in a joyous demonstration of support for Sakina. Sakina moved into the lane, holding the envelope above her head, as she danced the traditional Kuchipudi dance. The crowd on the balconies started clapping and

whistling, sharing in Sakinas joy. When Omar heard the commotion, he rose from his chair and walked to his balcony, about midway down the lane from Sakinas building. Seeing the gathering crowd, as many people were running down the hallways and the stairs into the street to dance with Sakina, Omar fetched his sarawati vina from its case, and stood on the balcony playing for Sakina. Others heard the voices and the music. Soon the air was filled with the sounds of the Kuchipudi dance with accompaniment provided by Omars sarawati vina and others playing the venu, tanpura, surpeti, kanjira, manjira, mridangam, and violin instruments. As fast as a speeding locomotive, the street was filled with adults and children all dancing the Kuchipudi dance.
Sakinas mother and father heard the sounds coming through the open doorway leading to their balcony on the third floor of their flat. They walked onto the balcony and were pleased to see a huge crowd of neighbors dancing in a circle around Sakina as she held a large, manila envelope in her hand. Her father looked at her mother, All will be well with our daughter, now.

Sakina was very happy when she was accepted into the Indian Armys Medical Training Battalion at the Army Medical College in Pune. Her maternal grandparents lived on the outskirts of Pune so she would be able to visit with them whenever she had some free time. Their son, Kenny, still lived with them.

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Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved Wild African Grey Parrots frequently whistle, shriek, squeak, click, etc. The African Grey parrot would provide regular renditions of the telephone, alarm clock, dripping water, wild birds, and any other sound often heard by the parrot.

Mambo could speak five languages: English, Hindi, Gujarati, Marathi, and Punjabi.

Mambo spoke with each person in his or her native language.

The grey African parrot, named Mambo, screamed at Kenny, You bloody damn fool, you forgot about me! as Kenny scurried around putting rabbits, chickens and ducks into their pens before dashing toward the house.

Sakina was accepted into the Army Medical College in Pune in August 1967. She graduated with her Bachelor of Science in Nursing in 1970. Subsequently, she was assigned to Army Medical Center, Lucknow.

Sakina graduates from Nursing School and volunteers for the Indian Army Medical Corps.

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Chapter Infantry Training This Trail to Texas

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Epilogue
The tender, sensitive, eager boy who grew to be the angry man lives on only in my heart.

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