The newest Baumann, Martin, would grow to be a fine grower. And by his fifteenth birthday the business was booming. Tall, broad shouldered and strong, he presented the image of a burly mountain man. When his father died of heart failure a couple years later, he took over the business without a hiccup.
Several other families had realized the potential of a cash crop. And the benefits of which were far reaching. The farms rescued the little mountain hamlet of Bontonville from certain demise. As the laws changed the community at large protected the farms and benefited from their enterprise. And by 1962, Bontonville was a healthy town again. Those not directly involved with the farms were amply compensated for their cooperation. An otherwise law-abiding town, it was like a large private club that held a dirty secret.
Martin’s closest childhood friend, Clyde Stokes, had recently returned from a tour in the Marines. He quickly landed a job as a deputy sheriff with the understanding of which laws to ignore. The two of them had grown up together in the fields so it wasn’t hard for Clyde to comply. Almost six years older than Martin, he enjoyed a good joint and didn’t see any harm in it. Particularly with some extra money in his pocket each week. They effortlessly rekindled their friendship and spent endless hours talking and smoking. It wasn’t very long before Clyde hit on the idea to have a party so they could meet some girls. Neither of them was very good with social graces so it seemed like the best way to make new friends.
The offices of the defunct Bluegrass Mining Company had been converted into a community hall. Situated deep in the woods, it had housed many parties over the years. Word traveled fast in the hills that those in their teens and twenties were all welcome. By nightfall the night of the party, dozens of youths crowded in for some dancing, drinking and smoking. It was here that Martin met the girl that would change his life forever.
Ellen Hicks was just over five feet tall, blond hair and aqua green eyes that melted Martin at the first glance. She was almost fourteen and he was seventeen. But it wasn’t unusual among mountain folk to start young. They talked and laughed for hours before stealing away to his truck to be alone. With the first kiss they were hopelessly in love. From that night on they were inseparable. Within two weeks he proposed, all with her family’s blessing.
After a quick, simple wedding, she moved into the Baumann home. A few short months later she announced she was pregnant. Almost immediately Martin became the protective father figure. He insisted that she not drink or smoke until after the baby was born. It was during the seventh month that she began to have severe headaches and heart palpitations. The local GP, Doctor Ray, told her to take it easy, stay off her feet and she would be fine. He felt it was her young age that was causing her troubles, but the baby was fine. He couldn’t bear to tell them his fears that she may not carry to the full term. He thought it best to ease their minds than to worry them anymore than necessary. He was an old-fashioned country doctor and didn’t put much stock in modern drugs. He was sure that rest and relaxation would serve them just fine. Ellen took the advice and took to her bed for the next three weeks. She began to feel somewhat better, though she never told Martin how weak she felt.
Two weeks before Christmas, Ellen decided to sneak a few joints and a little moonshine for a private celebration. While he was away shopping for Christmas she went out on the back porch to catch a buzz. She would be able to see his truck coming in plenty of time to get back inside and cover her tracks. The shine burned a little going down, but not too bad. The joint tasted very good even though it made her gag a little. The second toke was even easier. By the time she had gotten through the first half, it was already having the desired effect. The shine tasted better the second time and she could already feel it working on her brain. She began to feel very high, very quickly and she realized how much she had missed smoking. By the time she lit the second joint she was singing her favorite tune and strolling around the porch. She took a big gulp of the shine and it hit her stomach like a sucker punch... Her head began to throb and she felt like she may pass out. She stumbled into the banister and fell down the three steps to the ground. The last thing she remembered was the bile rising in her throat.
Martin found her lying on her side in a muddy puddle of sweat and vomit, barely breathing and very pale. Without wasting a second he scooped her up in his arms and loaded her in the truck for a dash to the hospital. One huge disadvantage of living like a recluse in the back woods was the availability of rescue services. She could be dead before an ambulance could find their secluded farm. So as he sped over the dirt roads, he did the next best thing. He called on the CB radio for his childhood pal Sheriff Stokes. Who was able to catch up to them and escort them to the hospital twenty-six miles away. Ellen had stopped breathing before they arrived and her pallor was very gray. The emergency room was thankfully not crowded and the staff was able to revive her after many long agonizing minutes. She didn’t wake up but she was stabilizing and they were able to hear two heartbeats. Martin fell to his knees as the rush of emotions and relief overtook him. He began to cry and he swore that he would never leave her side again.
“She’s gonna be all right Marty,” Clyde Stokes said as he put his arm around him and helped him to his feet. “Doc Ray is on his way an’ you can just bet she’s gonna be fine.” Martin relaxed a bit and found his way to a chair in the corner of the waiting room.
“When can I see her?” he asked, expecting his old friend to have all the answers. Clyde looked at him and smiled, “Now how am I supposed to know, she’s in good hands and when they put her in a room I’m certain they will let you know. Alright?”
Martin looked at him with moist eyes and said, “I don’t even want to think about living without her or the baby.”
“Now don’t even think like that,” Clyde retorted, “we don’t need any negative vibes creeping into your karma now do we?”
Martin looked up and couldn’t resist laughing out loud at his pal’s remark. “You sound like one of them Hollywierd hippies in the movies.” He had made Martin feel better, made him feel a bit calmer as he relaxed into the chair. “You’re right; I don’t need to make things worse by worrying too much. I need a joint, wanna join me?”
Clyde’s eyes popped wide open and he stood up involuntarily, “I swear you beat all I ever seen.” he had stopped smiling and he noticed several of the other patrons had overheard Martins invitation. “If I catch you doing anything like that I’ll have to lock you up no matter how long we been friends.” He straightened his gun belt and wiped the sweat off his upper lip. “Now you just take care, I’ve got some police business to take care of,” Clyde winked at him almost imperceptivity, “Got to check on the jailhouse security, take care now.”
Jailhouse security was their code word for a special meeting place where they would meet for a quiet smoke. Martin knew his friend’s speech was for the rest of the folks there. He would meet him behind the hardware store later, which used to be a jailhouse at the turn of the century. Sheriff Stokes passed Doc Ray in the hallway as he was leaving and exchanged a few words, Martin could tell by their expression that there was some bad news. As the doctor walked into the room Martin rose to meet him but the doctor motioned for him to sit back down.
“What’s wrong Doc?” He could feel his stomach tighten as he sat down.
“I don’t think there’s anything for you to worry about. She still hasn’t woken up but she’s gonna be fine.” Doctor Ray put his hand on his shoulder and smile. “Want to see her?”
The small hospital was clean well equipped. It only took a few seconds to find her room.
Martin stepped up to the bed and gazed fixedly at Ellen’s beautiful features, a small bruise on her forehead was the only distraction to otherwise perfect face. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek and began to cry quietly. A flood of tears ran down his face. No one said a word for several minutes; the only sound was that of the monitors beeping and of grafts being written by other machines. Just then Ellen uttered a low groan
, the heart monitor sped up and a huge wet spot appeared between her legs. The nurse immediately ran out the door and she could be heard yelling orders to others just out of sight. Doctor Ray grabbed Martin and pulled him away from the bed just as the nurses descended on Ellen.
“Look out Martin, you’re about to become a father.” Doctor Ray whisked Martin out of the way when some other attendants rushed in to move Ellen to delivery. The next many hours were very intense for everyone; with Ellen still unconscious the delivery was tediously slow. Twice she stopped breathing and her heart rate ping ponged out of control. So much that the attending physicians were certain she would not pull through. Martin was nearly catatonic by daybreak when the nurse came into the waiting room to fetch him. “What’s wrong, is she alright, is the baby ok, can I see her?”
“Yes you can see her, mother and baby are resting quietly in recovery, it’s a boy!” The nurse thought she would have to catch Martin as the relief of her news almost made him pass out. Doctor Ray had not left his side all night and now he went with him to see Ellen. She was still out cold but all the machinery told them that she was nearly back to normal. He gazed at her for a moment and silently uttered a prayer thanking the Maker for his small miracle. “Where is our baby... my son.” his voice was weak as he asked the nurse for the directions.
“He’s in the incubation chamber right now and if you will follow me I’ll take you to him.”
Just three weeks premature, the new Baumann was alert and active. His little shriveled features made Martin frown as he peered in at him. “He will start to look better than that, won’t he?”
Doctor Ray threw his head back and laughed so hard he thought he might choke.
“Yes… yes he will, and he is healthy and normal in every way.” Martin breathed a big sigh and found a chair to collapse in. He could barely hold up his head now that a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“What about Ellen?”
The old Doctor put his arm around him and said; “She will need a lot of love and care, but she’s doing well right now and she’s in very good hands. What you need to do is get home and get to bed. And so do I, if I don’t get some rest I may need a Doctor. Your pal Clyde should be here any moment to give us a ride home; I don’t think either of us would be safe on the road today.” Martin nodded his head in agreement. “By the way, have you decided on a name yet?” Martin just smiled and nodded his head, so tired he really didn’t try to answer. They got up and started on their way toward the exit, happy that this ordeal was over.
The new life in the incubator was the focus of Martin’s young life. He didn’t know where to start in the care of his new family, didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. He could not have imagined even in his worse nightmare what the years ahead would bring, what misery and horror lay in the future. What infamous history that was about to unfold in his sleepy mountain home. This new innocent life that was to fall prey to an evil fate that could only have been the plan of the Devil himself. Had he been able to see into the future, been able to foretell the events that would take place over the next four decades, he would certainly not want to claim a son like Martin Baumann Junior.
Chapter 2
Ellen rose from her chair to look out the window as she heard the sound of her husband’s new tractor coming across the field toward home. Junior was sitting in Marty’s lap with his hands on the steering wheel pretending to drive. The two of them spent almost every waking hour together at whatever task or project Marty wanted to do. She smiled and turned to go out on the porch to check her new tie-dye tee shirt that was soaking in a big washtub. Making clothes and sewing was her newest obsession and the tie-dye was the fashion of the day. She really loved the mod culture and spent most of her time reading about it. Even though they stayed in the hills most of the time, Marty made sure that they kept up with the current news and happenings around the world. He had even bought them tickets to a rock concert to be held in Bethel, New York next month in August. It had been five years since Junior was born and they had been preoccupied with taking care of each other. So much so that they hadn’t taken a vacation in all that time. She knew that Marty was doing this solely for her benefit, as he was very happy to stay at home and in the woods hunting. He didn’t care much for rock and roll music but he would do anything at all to make her happy. She still suffered from terrible headaches and occasional weakness due to her heart problem. Any permanent damage from her ordeal during the birth of her son was almost imperceptible, though she did have a hard time concentrating. The Doctors had said that she was 90 percent perfect. The only anomaly was a decreased flow of blood in her brain. But she was sure that they didn’t know what they were talking about because she felt fine. She would never admit to anyone that she often felt lost and anxious for no reason. The tee shirt was done and she was taking it out of the tub when Marty and his shadow came to the porch. He walked up to her and grabbed her around the waist, pulled her close and gave her a big hug and kiss.
“You’re gonna get red dye all over yourself,” she giggled as she scolded her husband.
“Well then you can say you jes created a new design freehand.” He held his grip on her and started dancing across the porch, splashing red dye over them both. They both laughed as she let the shirt drop to the floor. Junior joined in and the three of them spent the next few minutes laughing and dancing around. Everything within four feet was splashed with dye, but Marty didn’t care. He loved his job and business was good; his son and wife were happy and healthy and that’s all he cared about. Ellen began to get a little miffed at the red stain drying on her porch, an addition that was only finished two months ago. It was the last construction project they had completed, putting the finishing touch on their completely new house.
“You just ruined your new porch. You know that dye won’t wash out.” She scolded him lightly, knowing that he would fix it or replace it.
He looked at her with a sheepish grin, “I can sand it off or we can paint it, or I’ll just build you another one, maybe even bigger than this one. How would that be?” She couldn’t stay mad at him and he knew it. He cherished her and doted over her, his devotion to the two of them was paramount in his life. He knew she wasn’t fully well, he also knew that she had problems that she would never admit. But as long as she was happy he would give them almost anything they asked for. They talked about their trip to the Woodstock Music Festival all through dinner and into the night. She was so excited that she didn’t notice when Junior fell asleep on the floor in front of the TV. They had bought a new camper trailer for the occasion. She wanted to paint it with flowers, peace signs and hang tie-dyed curtains inside. He laughed at her exuberance. And laughed at the way she put her entire energy into this trip. Smiling broadly, he pulled her into his lap for a long hug and she responded in kind. Slipping down to the floor, she scooped up Junior and looked back at him with a familiar gleam in her eyes. Without a word she turned and headed down the hall toward Junior’s room, turning on their bedroom light as she passed it. Marty rose to his feet and went to check the door locks and looked out the front window across his mountain. It was just a little past sundown, too early for bed, but he knew that it would be some time before either of them got any sleep. As he stood there taking in the scenery, he thought about how lucky he was to have this place in the hills. And how lucky he was to have a loving family and friends in town that helped him to safeguard his profitable family business. His reflection in the darkening plate glass window made him chuckle as he had a huge toothy grin plastered across his face. Ellen’s footsteps padding up the hall told him she was through tucking Junior in, time to tuck Marty in now. Life was good. Walking toward the bedroom he decided that he would wait until tomorrow to tell her that she could hang the tie-dyed curtains in the camper, but no peace signs.
Long before daylight he was out of the door and into the woods on one of his almost daily hunting trips, one of the few true passions in his life. He would be back by breakfast and
then he and Junior would make their rounds on the farm. Besides the marijuana, he also kept a few pigs, chickens and a couple cows. But just enough to keep them in fresh bacon, eggs and milk. Ellen had read somewhere about how psilocybin mushrooms grew out of cow dung and she harvested them whenever the conditions were right. He didn’t really care for anything more than the reefer but as long as they were a natural high, he didn’t have a problem with it. Sitting quietly on a ridge overlooking a deer trail he smoked his first joint of the day, still grinning from the night before. Even though he knew the deer would smell him a mile away he really didn’t care. The solitude and the beauty of this place were enough for him. Besides more deer would come along later. Not long after he had finished the smoke, he spotted some movement in the trees upwind of him. Slowly raising his rifle to his shoulder, he took aim at the rustling branches. A doe stepped out of him brush and stopped to sniff the air, but he didn’t move. She stood there for what seemed like an eternity before moving on down the path under his perch. In his experience he knew that a buck was most likely behind her in hiding, and he was right.
Ellen was just opening her eyes when she heard the rifle shot echoing through the trees. That meant that her man would be home in about an hour with some fresh meat and an appetite. That also meant she had time for a couple joints and a couple cups of coffee before breakfast, just some of her many passions in life. The happy homemaker’s role suited her fine most of the time but she was yearning for adventure and excitement. She had gone from Daddy’s house to Marty’s house and felt she was missing a lot of the outside world. Both of them were avid readers, though their tastes were markedly different. His favorites were mysteries, horror, science and technology, while she concentrated on travel, music, and the current news about the free love, drug culture set
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