“Hi Lin, long time.”
“Hi Marty, how’s everything?”
Marty grinned, “everything’s just fine. We have decided on a new school, that one at the County seat.”
“The MacCally School?” Lin interjected, as he hoped she would.
“That’s the one; I’m heading straight over there today. Say why don’t I take the paperwork with me and save you a lot of running around.” Marty pasted on his best schoolboy face and tried to look sincere.
“Well, I’m not supposed to but…you won’t lose them will you?” They both laughed.
“Oh no if I did that Junior wouldn’t be able to finish school.” They chuckled again and she slid the papers across the counter. After exchanging goodbyes they were out the door. Junior sat quietly for several long minutes before talking.
“What’s this new school going to be like?” never looking up, a disparaging tone to his voice.
“It’s gonna be like home, cause I’m not taking you to any school. We are gonna teach you at home.” Marty had checked and rechecked to see if he could manage home schooling. With the help of a couple friendly officials he was sure he could do it. His son wouldn’t grow up thinking he was ugly or inferior to anyone. The grin on Juniors’ face told him how he felt about it. They both began to smile and Marty put his foot in the gas. They kicked up some gravel as the truck skidded slightly around the mountain roads. And a flutter of legal sized papers went flying down the mountainside.
Chapter 5
Spring 1979, the County fair was in town and Bontonville was bustling with people. This was Marty and Junior’s third year as vendors selling leather goods and animal pelts. They had learned the craft together over the last five years and Junior was turning out some very beautiful creations. His favorite material was deer hide, from which he made custom buckskin jackets and purses. And they were very popular. Marty loved to see his son’s excitement when he finished a new jacket. Loved the confidence in his art when he asked for a whopping $280 each, and got it. At only fifteen years old he was well on his way to success. He swelled with pride knowing that his boy could take good care of himself even though they didn’t need the money. Marty had completely given up the reefer business when Junior was nine, having set aside enough money to provide them all with a secure future. He recently added two hundred and sixty more acres to the farm that extended their property line to the new interstate. An old gas station half a mile from the exit was refurbished and renamed “Ellen‘s.” It served as a storefront for their crafts and for Ellen’s amusement. She had always planned to open a restaurant. It was more a vocation than an occupation, mostly something for her to occupy herself with. Getting a booth at the Fair had turned into a great boon for Junior’s demeanor. He had become very reclusive, studying at home and hunting more often than Marty. But now his new enterprise gave him cause to spend time in town, shopping for supplies and meeting other kids his own age. The experience did wonders for his self-esteem and he was gaining mastery at working a crowd. He flashed a huge smile as he pocketed ninety dollars from the sale of two purses, two belts and a wallet.
Mostly his jackets were by made to order only, but he had a special one wrapped in a big beautiful package with ribbons and a bow. A special gift for a special person. He watched the crowd moving past and finally caught a glimpse of her.
“Celeste!” He called after her, but she didn’t stop. “CELESTE!” She saw him waving and came over to the booth.
“Hi, Junior. How’s business?”
Junior puffed out his chest and proudly spoke, “Very good thank you. I was hoping I would see you today. I made you a little gift.”
“Oh really, what for, it’s not my birthday.” She grinned, and squealed in anticipation.
“A welcome home gift.”
“Well, me and Momma only moved back a month ago.”
“I know, better late than never. It takes time to create a masterpiece.” He moved his hand toward the purses and Celeste’s grin got bigger. Everything he made was beautiful and she couldn’t wait to see which was hers. Then he stepped back and grabbed the box from under the counter and handed it over to her. Her mouth dropped to the street with surprise. She looked from the box to Junior and back to the box, unable to move.
“Well open it.”
She quickly tore away the wrapping and yanked open the box. “WOW!” She pulled out a soft, brown buckskin jacket with a thick rabbit fur collar and full lining. Her name was embroidered on the back in three-inch letters. Small hand-carved deer antler buttons ran down the front, and there was a matching purse.
“Junior, this is gorgeous, you really shouldn’t have done all this.” She pushed her arms through the sleeves and pulled the collar around her neck. “Oooo….Junior this is so soft.”
“My secret technique makes buck skin soft as kid leather.” He felt tall as a mountain seeing the look on her face and prepared himself her next surprise. “Do you really like it?”
“Oh yes, everyone’s gonna be so jealous!” She purred now strutting about showing off her prize.
“I was wondering...” He started to talk but his voice wavered. “I was wondering if you would go with me to the street dance later?”
“Oh… I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m going with Wesley. You remember Wes…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered the events from so long ago. “I’m sorry Junior. I really am.” His face turned white and his head drooped very low.
“Here, you should probably keep this.” She started to take off the jacket but he stopped her.
“No, you keep it. I made it for you and I want you to have it. Unless your boyfriend will object.” He looked up and awaited her response.
“He doesn’t own me; if he’s got a problem with it then he’ll just have to get over it.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for this. I’ll always cherish it.” She turned and walked away and he felt like he would die. How could she be dating that jerk? Junior turned to face his dad who had been watching quietly.
“You OK?” He asked very pensively hoping this wouldn’t stir up some old emotions. “Yeh, but I should have asked her before I made the jacket.”
Marty laughed and grabbed his son around the shoulder, “Let’s close up and go home.”
“Yeh, OK…she would have been just as happy with a purse.” Marty laughed again feeling good about the way Junior was handling the refusal.
“I’ll go get the truck. You lock up. We‘ll clean out the goods tomorrow.” Marty said as he walked away toward the parking lot.
“OK.” Junior pulled down the front covers and closed the side door putting the padlock in place. Then he turned and punched the lid of a metal trash can so hard it dented and bounced off, clanging loudly to the ground.
They worked their way through traffic slowly. The last day of the Fair was always the busiest. “You going to the dance tonight?” Junior was quiet. His eyes told Marty that he was miles away.
“Huh, Oh no, I don’t think so. I really didn’t want to dance; I just thought it would be a good way to talk to Celeste.” Marty didn’t press it knowing she would probably be there with Wesley. Better to let sleeping dogs lie.
“You want to come to ‘The Corral’ with me instead. There’s a dart tournament this weekend. We could enter as a team.” Junior smiled knowing what his dad was getting at.
“No, you’re the dart champion, and don’t worry about me, I’m OK. Besides I’m almost finished with that mail order electronics course. I’ve got to study for the final test; it’s supposed to be here next week.” Marty smiled and turned at the old oak tree that marked the road to home.
Junior had finished all the requirements for his high school diploma last fall at the age of fourteen. And now just four months past his birthday, he was already digging into more complicated subjects. His grades were good enough that he could have gotten a scholarship to almost any university. But since they hadn’t gone through the school system properly, his chances were slim. Friends in tow
n had helped with his schooling for several years until the school board found out about it. They had wanted to start some trouble but decided to let it go. Considering how embarrassing it would be to explain to the County why it took them more than six years to discover Marty’s deception. And why so many in the system were helping them. The Baumann’s had many friends in town, and most of them thought Junior deserved special treatment. And since Marty had provided for his family so well no one seemed concerned about Junior choosing a career. As long as they were happy living in the hills, everyone else was happy too.
When they got home Marty found a note on the kitchen table that said Ellen was over at her cousin Trudy’s, which Marty knew meant that she was probably stoned and drunk again. She had drifted back into her old habits after Marty had given up the cash crop, finding solace with her second cousin, who was still in the business. Her addiction had stemmed from medication she received after Junior’s troubles at school. And after the doctor took her off the prescriptions, she had found other sources for a variety of pills and chemicals. At this point Marty had given up trying to stop her, she just became abusive and mean. She was constantly accusing him of sleeping around with every girl in town, constantly threatening to leave him. He still loved her but he couldn’t bear to see her destroy herself. Both of them spent more and more time away from home in order to avoid confrontation. Junior hardly spoke to her except in passing, and never told her he loved her anymore.
“Well, you want me to cook something or would you like to go back to town and eat?” Marty knew what he would say before he even opened his mouth.
“I’m still having nightmares from the last time you tried something different. Remember?”
Marty tried to act hurt but he couldn’t hold it, “It wasn’t that bad was it?” Junior didn’t answer.
“Let me get my homework and I can study while you play darts.”
The home style cooking at “The Corral” was good as always. The kitchen closed after supper and the adjacent bar took over the dining area. Junior had studied there often enough that he was allowed to sit in the kitchen where it was quiet. Christy, one of the waitresses, left him a pitcher of tea and a big slice of pecan pie. Meanwhile Dad ordered another beer for himself and Clyde. They often spent the evening talking and playing darts.
“You ready for another match?” Clyde swigged his beer as he walked back toward Marty.
“No, I think I’ll sit this one out.” Marty took a couple healthy glugs from his glass and sat down. “I swear, one day I’m gonna take off and go live in the tropics.”
Clyde rolled his eyes, “You keep saying that and you might even believe it, you ain’t never gonna leave this mountain. What would you do?”
“I would lie on the beach and let everybody just wonder what happened to me. I’ve got plenty money stashed, enough to set myself up. Junior can take care of himself now; I just ain’t got any more patience left. She makes me so mad sometimes I could scream.” Marty downed the rest of his beer and waved for Christy for another.
“You’re not gonna drive home any time soon, are you? You’ve only had about eight beers.” Marty started to say something sarcastic, but he knew his best friend had is safety in mind. “No, Junior can drive better than me. You know that.” Clyde waved off Christy before she could get to the table and Marty didn’t act like he noticed. He was in an agitated state, something he did quite often lately.
“You shouldn’t get so worked up about it, can’t you get her to see what’s happening to you.” Clyde put his hand on Marty’s shoulder as he stood up.
“I’ve tried to get her to stop but she just explodes on me and says I’m sleeping with every female within forty miles, you’ve heard her. She’s so paranoid about everything, says I’m not sensitive to her needs.” Marty stood up and stretched. “Maybe you could arrest her supplier. You know who they are.”
Clyde put his hands on his hips and looked hard at him, “I can’t prove anything without dragging both of you through the mud. Besides I turned my back on your business for years.” They both made their way out the door stopping and sitting on the patrol car to get some fresh air.
“I got some money stashed, I’m gonna just haul ass one day…I swear!” Junior came out a few minutes later; he took one look at him and held out his hand for the keys. Marty smiled, “You’re a good boy, thoughtful and kind. Don’t ever get married though, unless you find an angel, or a sainted virgin, or a….” He lost his train of thought, rambling from the effects of a couple too many beers.
“Don’t worry Dad. I won’t.” Junior helped his beleaguered father in the truck and trotted around to the drivers’ side. Marty was nearly napping as they drove home, Junior couldn’t help but think about what his father said. He wouldn’t marry any girl except Celeste, and he knew she would come around sooner or later. It would only take a little while for him to impress her, and to show her what a real loser Wesley was. The warm night air blew through the windows as they drove. It was mid-April and the seasons were changing fast. A time when all God’s creature’s thoughts to turn to love. Junior was already imagining what a date with his dream girl would be like. “Just give it some time. She’ll come around.” He spoke to himself and smiled, confident in his dreams.
The sun rose early the next morning and Junior was out early enjoying the day. It wasn’t hunting season right now but he dearly enjoyed his family spread. He had bought a new dirt bike and he spent endless hours riding through the hills, finding new trails. Looking for game signs and new hunting spot. Today as he wandered about, he decided to check out the construction on the interstate. Which would be finished soon. From a vantage point on a nearby hill he could see straight down the roadbed. It was going to come very near to their property before turning uphill and to the right. This would make his store more accessible and more profitable. As he sat and looked around, he could see dust flying up from the nearby road. It was the road that led toward the Groomes home. He could see Wesley in his new Mustang flying around turns and spinning his wheels, his favorite past time. He had heard through the grapevine that the loser was going off to college in the fall and he knew that then he would be able to win Celeste away from him. Wesley was almost three years older than her and Junior was sure it was only a matter of time. “Don’t drive too fast punk. You wouldn’t want to wreck your Daddy’s new car.” He spoke out loud and crossed his fingers in a mocking gesture. He whistled a little tune and started back home. Maybe Dad would be up now. They had planned to go exploring on the newest part of their land, now almost seven hundred acres. There was supposed to be an old coal mine on it somewhere and Junior couldn’t wait to see if they could find it.
After two months of searching Marty and his look alike had found remnants of a sign pointing to the employee parking lot. By intensifying their search they found several more markers and eventually the mine itself. And today they were set to check it out. However, it had been sealed. Rocks and debris completely covered the opening.
“That’s what they had to do I reckon, to keep anybody from getting lost or killed in there.” Junior stood next to his father and studied the blocked passage, wishing for an opening. He stood just more than six feet tall and weighed in at two hundred ten pounds, just a hair shorter but half a foot wider than his Dad.
“You think it’s deep. I mean could we possibly find a way in?” Junior climbed onto the pile closely scrutinizing it.
“Oh, I doubt we could get through there without a bulldozer. I would imagine they used a good bit of dynamite.”
“You think so? It almost looks like this dirt was pushed over the top; it may not have been blasted.” Junior climbed even higher pushing a few rocks out of the way. “Either way we won’t get in this way. Hey!” Junior turned around excited. “Maybe there’s an air shaft somewhere. They had to have air shafts to vent the mine with.”
“Let’s go get the truck and see if we can get up atop of that ridge, there‘s bound to be an access road or what‘s left
of it. I think it‘s been twenty...twenty-five years …” Marty didn’t even finish his sentence before Junior was down the debris pile and jogging away toward the truck. “You coming?” Junior laughed as he yelled back at his Dad, “I don’t want to leave you behind.” Marty followed at a walk, whistling as he twirled the keys around his finger.
The day got away from them but they returned the next morning as soon as it was light enough to drive safely. They ambled their way through the hills looking for any hint of a trail, slowly wandering about while the sun rose higher in the sky. Then Marty found a rusty screwdriver stuck in a tree and they took it to be a marker, then they saw the path. Only ninety yards off the road but completely hidden in the trees. On a flat ridge between some large rock formations, was a ghost of a trail leading uphill, where they found another decrepit warning sign. Marty took one look and slapped his thigh, “Caution! …Now if that ain’t a clue….” Marty started and Junior finished.
“I don’t know what is.” They both took baby steps as they began searching again, scanning every detail, crouching, circling, slowly working away from each other. Surrounded by heavy brush Junior found a flat, rectangular spot devoid of any growth, covered with moss and some very old trash. He stepped in to get a closer look and the bottom fell out from under him. The rotted wood hardly made a sound when it fell into a thousand pieces, plunging him into darkness. A tangle of roots scratched and grabbed at him, he desperately clawed the air, pin wheeling madly. The air-shaft was only six feet around, but completely vertical. He slammed the wall hard; his right knee bounced off a rock and hooked his foot under a root. Yanking him to a halt, upside down. He smacked against the dirt face first. Grasping a protruding rock he pulled up with both hands. He was wedged on the side nearly twenty feet down.
“DAD! HELP!” His shouts were muted by the long hole; his breath came in short pants. His foot was hurting, maybe broken. He could taste blood from a gash over his right eye. “DAD!” To his amazement Marty’s silhouette leaned over the edge.
The Final Shortcut Page 6