Premonitions

[kua]

Pac, your personal story was wonderful. I expect we will find it embedded in one of your tales one of these days. So happy the older gentleman knew just by visiting with the two of you a while that you would indeed care for and enjoy his treasure.
Now, let me guess, who had the happiest camp site on the campout. I can guess it was not one of the wonderful streamlined campers whose owners only knew to use the microwave to whip up a meal.

 

[PacNorWest]

#6

Monday was a work day and all hands fell too, each with an important job to do. Will used his contacts to enlist a professional 'bug sniffer' and the man was worth his hefty fee. There were planted recording devices all over the farm, raising the ire of the clan to new heights.

Sputtering and spitting mad, Sandy and Brett slammed dishes, thumped rolling pins and plotted revenge upon the tormentors that trashed their sense of safety.

Clora redirected the at odds energy by telling everyone that it was going to be a early, harsh winter. "Put by all you can," she warned each member. "It's going to be bad."

Following up her directive, Clora was immediately busy canning and drying every morsel she could find. Daily her grocery list grew as she checked the pantry and basement shelves.

Lainey and Ben worked hard, their custom butchering business busy with fall beef, pork and lamb. Dealing with his customers fairly, Ben took some of his pay in money and some in the product he worked up for them. Lainey worked until she couldn't take the continuous standing as she wrapped meat. Then she started canning the frozen meat Ben had traded for. Clora and Sandy came down whenever possible, lending a hand and confidence to the novice canner.

Cheryl became the home school teacher, using her skills to keep Trey, Willie and Christy learning. Ev finished his harvest, gleaning his fields clean and donating his tithe to the church's food bank. Buying an old Clipper seed cleaner, Ev cleaned and sacked wheat for the clan's use, and then doubled what he put aside.

September wained into it's last two weeks and Wayne slipped into the forest and harvested venison with his bow. His gates were forming barriers that enclosed the housing portion of the farm, lending a sense of security to the clan.

Mark went back to school to finish his computer/traffic engineering degree, driving into town daily. It was handy for Clora to send him to the store on his way home. Mark indulged her whims, dutifully buying small amounts of food at every store in town. He couldn't believe the amount of rice and beans she put aside. Then lentils, cornmeal and sugar.

Mark thought his wife was purely amazing the day the weather man announced that an aggressive, unusually strong low was spinning a freak storm their way. The sleeting rain started on his way home, and Mark patted the 3 cans of coffee sitting in the paper sack beside him as he endured the slippery drive home.

Clora had been a good overseer of her charges. All the clan was ready. Brett glumly looked at the list of supper cancellations on account of the weather, and closed up early. Trey was delighted to have his father home to eat supper at the main house. Even Wayne was there partaking of the rich venison stew and biscuits. As the sleet pelted the windows, Clora gave the blessing herself.

"We thank you Heavenly Father for warmth, food and protection from the storm. Bless your food to the nourishment of our bodies and your word to the nourishment of our souls. Amen." Her Amen was barely finished when feet thumped across the porch and Ben launched inside. "The horses are loose, running everywhere."

Mark was up in a flash, grabbing his coat and hat on the way out the door. He started whistling and heading for the barn, hoping to bring the horses in by force of habit. The old mare materialized out of the pelting rain with a welcoming whinny, but refused to let Mark lead her in the barn.

Suddenly she bolted out of his hands and Mark felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. His hand patted the interior door frame as he felt for the light switch to see what was moving inside the barn.

 

[bad_karma00]

Oh boy. Bear maybe? Or something more sinister.

Always a great story Pac!

 

[Deena in GA]

Totally cool for you Pac, but I have a feeling it was much more than that for the gentleman on his way to the retirement home.

What a priceless gift you gave him with your hospitality and interest in his history. Much too often the riches that the elderly possess is lost to us through our own indifference.

I couldn't have said it better, so just want to echo what juco said. How sad, though, that his family didn't want that skillet and the family history that goes with it!

 

[sssarawolf]

EEE gads clifffffffffffffffffffffff. Thank you

 

[PacNorWest]

I have been looking at the gentleman's history. He missed 2 grandma's, I'm thinking, by what came up on his family tree. So even though his ancestors might have not been some of the major players on the Mayflower first roster, they were there and he has a right to be proud of his skillet's history. I have his address and will pass on his history when I'm finished.

We, [Mr. Pac and myself] always find interesting people to talk to when we are out and about. It's great stimulation for Mr. Pac; and people have been incredibly kind as he repeats himself, and rambles.

I do have to admit, there's a very good reason old ladies don't sleep on the ground on a leaky air mattress. It was heaven to get home and sleep in a bed. Always good to renew your thankfulness for what we take for granted.

 

[wab54]

Pac,
Can we get a pic of the skillet? You described it as a "marking skillet"? What is that?



WAB

 

[PacNorWest]

Wab54

What I meant to say was; the skillet has no markings on it at all. It is thinner walled with a smooth cooking surface much like the Griswold's I have; and I am beginning to suspect that the pan is like Abe Lincoln's ax, or George Washington's hatchet, The heads and handles have been replaced a few times, but it still belonged to them.

It is possible that a skillet could have survived for that long; but I am beginning to doubt it. That's 370 some years of use, approx., and I haven't had time to research how sophisticated the iron forming process was in England in the 1640's.

Many of the pilgrims came from France and the low countries, and they might have had better foundry techniques, but who knows.
This part of the mystery will have to wait, I don't have time right now. Later today or tomorrow I will try to get a picture posted.

 

[wab54]

I thought you were talking about one of those skillets with the ridges in the bottom to put "grill marks" on the meat. I am sure they did not have anything like that.


WAB

 

[PacNorWest]

Well....dissapointment.

I took an air grinder to the 'Mayflower' skillet and it is not. First of all it didn't have a 'fire ring' on the bottom, and when I got the layers upon layers of gunk off, it is a #6 Griswold. A very nice skillet in it's own right, but not old enough to have been a Mayflower item.

I am going to ask the gentleman if he has other skillets, when I send on his ancestry information. Perhaps he, with his failing eyesight, picked up the wrong pan. Either way, it was a heartfelt meeting between us, and I am richer for his visits.

 

[sssarawolf]

Yeah maybe he picked up the wrong skillet.

 

[PacNorWest]

#7

Mark felt himself violently slammed against the door as Wayne prevented him from entering the pitch black barn.

"ARE YOU FRICKEN CRAZY" Wayne hissed as he held a tight grip on Mark's forearm. "Do you know what's in there and where is your weapon?"

In his concern for his beloved horses, Mark had forgotten the number one rule of the farm. Always have your weapon with you, was practically tattooed across the clan member's foreheads.

"I..uh,...I don't have one." he managed to stutter. Wayne felt for Mark's empty hand and shoved a rifle into the huge paw.

"Chamber a round and on the count of three, flip the lights on." Wayne ordered. "Ben's at the other side of the doorway so don't shoot sideways."

"I..2..3.." Mark hit the switch and the huge black bear flashed into focus from the overhead lights.

Startled and angry at being hassled while enjoying a snack of sweet feed, the sow stood up on her hind legs to better assess the situation. Three sharp retorts and she dropped, but not until she had closed a good 40 feet closer to the hunters.

"They don't always die when they have been fatally shot," Wayne circled around and poked the bear sharply in the hind paw, trying to provoke a response.

"I bet this is the cub we ran out of the orchard when we first moved here," Wayne kept a wary eye on the pudgy fat black bear with the cinnamon colored shoulder patch. "She has been around before."

The men could hear the tractor start as Ev eased the old John Deere with the loader out of the machine shed and into the barn door. The loader hydraulics whined and wanted to stall with the cold and the weight of the bear.

"Let's take her down to the old barn," Ev wiped the sleet from his face, "The horses won't do well with the blood here in their barn. Spook's em somthin considerable."

When he was excited, Ev's speech slipped back into a deep drawl from where he would never explain, but they could all hear the strong southern overtones. It wasn't important. The man had proven himself over and over to be right with his actions.

It was a miserable walk down to the far barn. The sleet had turned into a icestorm and there was a slippery film coating everything.
Ben went to the butcher shop for his tools, and many hours later the carcass was hung from the rafters to cool.

"I can't put her in the shop cooler," Ben explained to Wayne when he asked why they weren't butchering in the shop. "I don't have my wild game license yet, and we don't dare take a chance of a surprise inspection."

Wayne and Mark stopped on the back door stoop and shucked their dirty, gore covered clothes. The only thing they brought in out of the weather were their boots and guns.

"Thanks man," Mark apologized to Wayne. "You saved my bacon out there."

Naked except for their socks, the two men eased down the back hall to the stairs where Wayne went to go up to his room; and Mark started to move down the hall to his bedroom.

Nobody alerted Junior that the two intruders sneaking around the back side of the kitchen and dining room were friendlies.

He took them out.

Clora had brought Junior in, When Wayne left the house shouting he thought they had a bear. Better to be safe than sorry with the wildly unpredictable mutt, she had him sternly placed on the utility room floor.

He hit Wayne and Mark full force from behind, scattering human parts in a spaghetti like jumble. Standing guard over the robbers, he barked and slobbered until Clora showed up in her hastily thrown on bathrobe and Evie's old shotgun.

Laughing until her knees were weak and she slid to the floor; Clora woke Sandy with her howling glee. Both women were laughing so hard they couldn't call Junior off the painfully exposed specimens of manhood.

Finally Wayne got ahold of Junior's collar and shook the dog until he realized who he had pinned to the floor.

"Whooeee," Sandy hollered as the two men made a break for safety, "that was quite a show."

"Oh my,...oh my," was all Clora could say. "Amazing."

 

[sssarawolf]

Junior again, that dog is lucky he still lives. lol

 

[Sully]

Pac, I hope you never stop writing stories here at TB. Your characters are so real that I feel like I know them personally. But I do miss Evie..lol.
Thanks for continuing to bring us enjoyment in your writing.

Sully

 

[bad_karma00]

More Junior/Pinky related mayhem! Love it!

 

[juco]

I must have missed where Inky passed on. But it sounds like Junior is carrying on in his footsteps nicely. LOL

 

[Kathy in FL]

I was laughing so hard. I could absolutely understand why Cora was having hysterics. Rofl!!

 

[kua]

What a picture you paint with your words. I speak for us all. It is real ROFL stuff. Thank you for giving us such a nice story to go to bed on tonight.

 

[debralee]

Thank you Pac. at least the bear in the barn had fur on, all the guys had on were socks. hee hee

 

[PacNorWest]

#8

Riding high on his successful take down, Junior patrolled the house all night long. Every once in a while he wiggled in happiness, thinking how proud his dad would have been, knowing he was on duty, protecting his people. Junior heard Will come in the drive, the sputtering muffler the identifying marker for the patrol car.

The rising wind moaned and whistled through the ice encrusted tree limbs, the trees trying to bend under the weight of their unshed leaves. The resulting wood snapping was as loud as a gunshot. Wayne couldn't sleep for the unsettling noise, thinking of the havoc that was happening in the orchard. The late apples were still fully leafed out and the fruit unpicked, likely ruined now, he supposed.

Wayne had other unsettling things on his conscience. He couldn't get Sandy's wide eyed approval out of his mind. He really didn't want to go there, but his mind wouldn't turn off. He turned over once again, pulling the covers up and out of the foot board leaving his toes uncovered. Kicking at the sheet and quilt, he managed to recover his feet, but the eggbeater running in his brain revved up a notch higher. It was a long tumultuous night and by the time Wayne heard Will come in from his shift, he was dressed and his knapsack packed and he was out the door.

Will noticed the door open and Wayne come slouching out, looking like warmed over leftovers. "Hey," he greeted Wayne.

Wayne muttered, but jerked his chin up, acknowledging Will's greeting. "We had a bear in the barn tonight, she was a big old bruiser."

"Yeah," Will spoke slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We got notice of shot's fired out here, seems some of our neighbors are a bit touchy. I figured you would have let me know if something was wrong."

"I can't sleep, I'm going to the barn, and maybe I will go to the forest. Don't know what to do, I'm damm confused and need to go walk it off." Wayne shifted the pack sack. "Hey, let Ben know I'll be back someday. Thanks."

Will had been well briefed on Wayne's torments, and he let the man go without comment. The lawman was climbing the porch steps when the lights went out, the ice storm winning the race with modern conveniences. Will stoked the wood stove and reheated the coffee Clora always left for him. Under a napkin on the table was a sandwich and cookies. She was a thoughtful woman.

Clora and Sandy snickered all the time they were making breakfast. By the time Mark showed up for a cup of coffee, the duo had the men of the farm posing for a beefcake calender and were supposing how much money could be made by selling them for five bucks each.

Will came down for breakfast, mentioning that he had talked with Wayne as the man was leaving for a walkabout. No one noticed Sandy's temporary stillness as she absorbed the news. Smoothly, she covered her hesitation and her Sandy mask was firmly in place when she turned around.

"Say Will, we need some professional advise," Clora requested as she flipped a hotcake and poured the Deputy's coffee. "How can we find out exactly how old Sandy is? How about pinpointing precisely who her parents were?"

"DNA, teeth and available records," he replied around a mouthful of hot coffee.

Sandy looked sharply at Clora, but her sister deliberately kept her back to the younger woman.

Clora hadn't missed the look between Sandy and Wayne last night, and for some reason Clora's feelings didn't scream danger when she thought about them together. Grandma had been so reluctant to trace Sandy's parents, and that doofus Borg had provided more smokescreen with his look at the medical records.

Clora thought about her father in law, thinking Borg had been suspiciously silent for quite a while. Probably not a good thing, she surmised.

Willie and Trey padded into the kitchen looking for toast and honey butter. Yawning and pushing each other for the privilege of sitting next to Will, he settled the issue by scooting over so a child could sit on each side of him.

"Trey, will your dad be down soon?" Clora asked as she poised to start a new round of eggs and hotcakes.

"Dunno, he ain't here," Trey rubbed his eyes, looking put out that Clora wouldn't know Brett hadn't come in last night.

There was silence in the kitchen as the adults absorbed that chunk of information, and Willie argued with Trey about touching his Dad.

"Hey Sport," Will gently corrected Willie, "we share around here; toys, parents, cookies Aunties, but we don't share gum." He looked soberly at Willie, and turned his head in time to see Trey stick his tongue out at the younger boy. "We don't do that, either." he pointedly scolded Trey.

"How old are you Trey?" Will quizzed the chunky youngster.

"I'm almost 6," Trey replied proudly. "I'm gonna get a baseball and glove for my birthday. Dad said so."

Will got a puzzled look as he struggled to think back about Trey's birth. He was almost positive the child was older than 6. Humph, a bit of a mystery to unravel later. He was hungry.


Cheryl, Ev and Christy were having breakfast when Ben came pounding on the door, "It's time, we gotta go to the hospital, Ev would you drive us?"

 

[sssarawolf]

Thank you Pac

 

[kua]

Hope the roads are clear but that ice storm last night might give them an interesting drive to the hospital.

 

[PacNorWest]

#9

Ev took the time to chain all four wheels on the old Ford, before heading out to the hospital. Cheryl and Christy carefully picked their way up to the main house with the news. School was started for the day, and some order was restored.

Sandy got ready to make a few pies, but couldn't get the requests from the phone on account of no electricity. Clora and Mark got a chance to speak frankly with Will about the Sandy/Wayne problem. He promised to contact Jennings and the FBI and get the honest truth about Sandy.

Clora hated to do it, but she had to ask Will about Borg and his involvement with the folders of their information. Clora had one of those jumpy feelings about Mark's Dad, and she wanted a third party investigation. Mark listened without comment, but had a small frown on his face. He gave Clora a brief smile and squeezed her fingers to indicate they would talk later.

Finally, Clora happened to think about the food in the refrigerators in the cafe and she and Mark went to check. There they found the missing Brett.

When Brett opened the cafe, some of the local businesses had sent welcoming baskets of fruit, cheese and wine. Mired in a quagmire of self pity and stupidity, Brett the man who seldom drank, emptied two of the cheap wine bottles.

Kicking the mostly empty bottle out of the reach of his passed out grip, Clora looked in disgust as she surveyed the scene. "Leave him," she told Mark. "I hope he gets so sick he can't stand up." Incensed beyond belief, she slammed the door extra hard when they left.

"Isn't that kinda harsh," Mark questioned as he held Clora's arm as they crossed the ice slick parking area. Thick, low grey clouds were boiling in the sky and the wind picked up once again. Ice pellets stung as the storm picked up in intensity, and the floodgates of icy rain opened. Rushing as fast as possible, Clora and Mark were wet through when they burst the back door into the kitchen.

Junior and Ruby each opened a eye and curled tighter in their warm spots behind the stove. Ignoring their humans, they went back to sleep.

Sandy looked up and sniped sarcastically, "You two had to find out for yourself that it is cold and nasty outside? You couldn't just look out the window?"

Mark hesitated, unsure what to say or do next, and then followed Clora's lead of ignoring Sandy on their way through the kitchen.

Cheryl had school going in the sitting room, so Mark and Clora walked silently past on the way to their room.

Finding a bit of privacy was always difficult, but closed room doors were honored as private time. Secure in their room, Clora turned to Mark and tried to explain her reaction to Brett. Try as he might to pay attention to her explanation of Brett's drunken uncle, yada, yada, yada...Clora's lips looked like they needed kissed. So what was he to do, ignore a crying shame problem? Finally Mark couldn't stand it any longer and he applied his expertise to the situation.

"Honey," Mark said softly, "He's a big boy and will have consequences. He needs to experience them all by himself. Nothing from any other family member matters. It's his problem." Mark held her hands as Clora fidgeted and finally calmed down.

"I know," she finally replied. "I just don't want him to start down that road, if I can help it."

"Now listen Clora, I mean this in the most sincere way possible. You are a sister and friend to this family, not their mother. In my opinion, Evie was totally wrong when she made you the official worrier and wringing hands champion. In the couple of weeks that we've been married, you have run yourself ragged pushing these people to do what they were doing anyway." Mark whispered in her ear as he held her tight.

"I'm fully aware that Sandy is worried sick about Wayne and his abrupt leaving, but if she is old enough to worry on that level, she is old enough to initiate an investigation through Will herself. Step back honey, let her grow up and learn to battle her own dragons. I'm worried about you love, you are going to make yourself sick and I'm selfish enough to want you well. " Mark held Clora as she struggled with his unvarnished truth. "I need you Clora," his whisper was ragged. "I need you to help me stay well and focused. Stress hurts me and I have trouble handling it without your steady influence and love."

"Oh dear," Clora wanted to cry, "you mean the world to me and I love you so, even when I don't like what you are saying."

Supper was over before Ev drove in the yard. "It's like greased glass out there," he tousled Christy's hair and yanked open her hair ribbon, teasing his pretty princess. "Would you like to see a surprise?" he asked Cheryl.

Opening his coat, Ev brought out a tightly wrapped tiny baby that opened his eyes to blink sleepily in the kitchen light. "This is an emergency from the good Pastor in the hospital. This little guy lost both his parents in a horrible crash this afternoon. There was a 8 car pileup on the freeway and Pastor Tom's host family's are full."

Cheryl pushed back from the table and held her arms out for the tiny package. Gathering the lightweight child in the crook of her left arm and Christy in the right, the Wilson women cooed to the infant.

Clora raised her eyebrow at Ev. "Well," she demanded, "Ben and Lainey, remember them. Did they have their baby?"

"Oh yeah, that's what we went to the hospital for, wasn't it. Now let's see, what did happen," Ev played the 'I forget card,' until Clora had to threaten him by taking his plate of food and large slice of apple pie off the table. "You sure do know how to hurt a fella," he tried eliciting a little sympathy. "OK, you'all have a screaming little baby..." and he drawled slowly, "girl".

"Mother and daughter are just fine, Dad not so much." Ev laughed as he told about Ben's near meltdown and nervous behavior. "Lainey's a trooper, and Ben is practically confined to bed."

That brought soft laughter from around the table. "He's always been a little queasy around that type of thing," Sandy laughed at the thought of Ben turning green.

 

[sssarawolf]

Great chapter as usual .

 

[juco]

Two new babies! I will wait patiently to hear what the verdict is on Sandy....and why Borg is meddling with their files.

 

[Deena in GA]

Thanks for the new chapters! Your stories are always great to read!

 

[PacNorWest]

#10

Ev left the group to check on the butcher shop freezer. Shortly, the sounds of the generator started and sounded loud as the wind was blowing toward the house.

"Cheryl, do you want to stay here tonight?" Clora offered as she took her turn holding the tiny baby.

"I think I'll go home, this little guy is likely to get pretty noisy when we go to bed. He just has all the signs of having his days and nights mixed up. Thanks though, I appreciate it." Cheryl borrowed a couple of dish towels to make a baby sling under her coat, shielding the undersized boy from the weather.

Ev came to the back door, sticking his head in. "Hurry up, the rain has stopped for the moment and I've got the house fire warming the place."

Cheryl buttoned her coat and placed one hand under the lump as she grasped Ev's hand with the other. "I'm ready, let's go. Let's suspend school tomorrow or at least till we see how this is going to go."

Clora nodded and watched them walk down the drive, the feeble flashlight beam soon lost in the windy storm. "My goodness it's been a long time since I've seen a baby that small," she remarked as she closed the door and drew the curtains against the night.

"That baby looks retarded," Sandy spoke her opinion in the warm silence. Clora was making the nightly sandwich for Will, and placed a mug next to the covered plate.

"I think retarded is too strong, that child looks like it didn't have a good beginning," Clora spoke over her shoulder; Mark was giving her the sheepdog look for a cookie, and it made her chuckle.

There was a fumbling bump at the back door and Brett eased into the room, closing the curtains in the jamb during the quick slam.

It was three against one; as those not hung over stared with intensity at the one that was.

"Aghh, unph dussmwmph," he mumbled as he reached for a glass.

"Need an aspirin?" Sandy inquired brightly as she slammed the cupboard door. She moved the chair in front of her with a grating noise, and reached in the drawer to drop a spoon on the floor. Grabbing a mug, she splashed it half full of coffee and thumped it loudly on the table. Brett made it to the chair and sat heavily, reaching for the coffee.

Brett jerked like he was poked with a sharp needle with each shattering noise, bringing a bark of laughter from Sandy.

"Lord you're mean," he complained as he took a drink. "I bet you lay awake nights dreaming evil and rotten things to inflict on people."

"Nah," Sandy said with more laughter; "Just fools that deserve it."

For once Clora held her tongue and let the episode play out as it would. Partially because Mark had a grip on her hand and squeezed it, when ever it looked like she was going to say something.

Brett filled his mug with more coffee and lurched out of the room, heading for his bedroom. "Thank you" he muttered at Clora and Mark,
"but not you," he glowered at Sandy. It made her laugh again.

"I have no mercy," Sandy explained unnecessarily. "That jerk, made and got me to drink prune-o when I was younger. I was in way worse shape than he is, and he laughed at me."

"Prune-o?" Mark asked, finding the whole scene incredibly funny.

"Homemade wine type of drink with sweet juice fermented with bread," Clora explained. "Grandma would have lowered the boom on her if she had known."

"I was sick for three days, and I'm not so sure Grandma wasn't totally aware why I was ill. She had no mercy when she was shouting orders and assigning chores. It cured me for sure," Sandy wiped her hand over her face, brushing away memories.

The icy rain started again, the wind lashing it against the windows. "I need to get some more wood for tonight, I forgot in the excitement of the new baby." Clora reached for her coat and was stopped by Mark. "Let me," he held her arm, "I can do that." and he went for the woodshed.

Clora had a thought she wanted to share with Sandy. "Sandy, has your birthmark faded more with age? Mine has almost blended into my skin tone."

"I don't know," Sandy admitted. "I never look at it, see if you can find it," and she unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off her shoulder.

Clora looked and couldn't find the mark, "I think your's is lower on your chest, I don't find it. Oh, there it is," Clora had to pull the chemise lower with her finger. "Yours looks the same, huh," she remarked.

"Where's yours?" Sandy asked, and Clora unbuttoned her dress top and showed Sandy the raised and knobby patch that had lost pigment just to the side of her breast.

That's how Mark and Wayne found then as they opened the door. Wayne looked at Mark, and Mark looked at Wayne and then they both cleared their throats, really unsure of what to say or do.

"Wayne," Clora covered up and looked delighted he was there. "Come over here, We want to see your birthmark, I believe we have more of a mystery than ever before."

Averting his eyes against the irresistible temptations, Wayne dropped his armload of wood in the box. "Aghh, ladies; maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Shut up!" Clora helped him out of his coat. "I've got this theory that I want to prove or disprove. I don't know why I didn't think of this before." Between the two of them, Sandy and Clora had Wayne's layers of clothes off in a flash.

"Look" Clora exclaimed in triumph. "I knew it, Wayne your mark looks just like Sandy's, and nothing like mine. I think your birthmarks aren't real. They are tattoos."

 

[Jeepcats 3]

Someone's been messing with the families histories!
NO way with all the medical documentation that the birthmarks wouldn't be recognized as tattoos!
The plot thickens, What twists and turns has Pac got planned?
OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH, I can hardly wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thanks for the new chapter!

Jeepcats3

 

[Rabbit]

Um, so they may not be related after all. Twists and twists and then some turns. Love it.

 

[bad_karma00]

Well, that's a game changer, ain't it! This poor family has been toyed with more than the laws of nature should allow. I hope someone pays for all that!

Have I mentioned how much I loooovvvveeee your stories Pac? It is the highlight of my day to log on and see an update. Even when it ends with me on a cliff!

Bad

 

[Deena in GA]

Ahhh...will that pave the way for Sandy and Wayne? Interesting twist, as always!

 

[sssarawolf]

Oh gads the plot thickens for sure.

 

[PacNorWest]

#11

"No!, you gotta be kidding," Sandy sputtered, swallowing hard as she twisted her body to look at her own mark. The light from the oil lamps was dim, but bright enough to see the clearly marked area.

"See," Clora was still excited and jumbling her words together. "My mark is raised and bumpy, and I know for a fact that Ben's is also. Brett, well maybe we should go wake him up and check his." She was all ready to invade Brett's privacy, now that she was on a roll.

"Wayne, both you and Sandy have smooth, deeply colored marks that actually are odd shaped compared to mine. The marks passed down Pete have been very consistent, even Grandpa's was the same, so what if," she paused dramatically "you two were deliberately tattooed to be included as members of this family."

Clora paced up and down the kitchen. "Help me here, Wayne I believe Doc would have had plenty of opportunity to put a tattoo on you. You spent many hours unconscious as a child in his clinic. So do we now question all of his care? Were you really that bad, or would you have been KEPT that way? Now Sandy, you came to us as a 1 or 2 year old. You had the mark then, so you probably can't remember how and when you got it."

Sandy shook her head, "don't remember," she stared out of the corner of her eye at Wayne, gaging his reaction to the revelations. What she saw satisfied her, and she relaxed.

"But what about the folders and the DNA tests?" she questioned, rubbing her forehead in frustration.

"What if I said I think that was manufactured and false evidence." Clora continued. "I have to give Grandma credit for this thought. I have been reading a journal she left and she really suspicioned that you and Wayne weren't blood kin. She wanted you so much, she went along with the ruse, rather than chance loosing you kids to the 'system'. After so much time went by, and you and Wayne showed such a deep attraction to each other, she didn't know how explain."

Wayne's head jerked up, and he opened his mouth to protest, and then he simply nodded. A quiet stare between Wayne and Sandy seemed to satisfy them both, and they both let out the breath's they were holding.

That's how Will found them when he ended his shift. Sitting at the table listening to Clora read portions of Evie's journal.

 

[Deena in GA]

Woo hoo! Those two have been so long - and so have we!

 

[debralee]

I beleive that some of the troubles that Wayne has been having will soon be put to rest. He must have thought he was weird or something to be attracted to his own "sister". Maybe now the man can find some peace in his soul. Hope that Clora is right in her thinking and grandma was also. Evie might be gone but she is still guiding her family.

 

[bad_karma00]

A journal, huh? Well now, reckon what secrets that'll reveal!

Great update Pac! Hope all is well with you and your Mister!

 

[PacNorWest]

#12

"'Evening folks, what's going on?" Will heaved himself in a chair with a sigh of relief. "It's been one rotten night, and I hope this blasted storm moves itself out soon."

Will ate a cookie and got up to fill his mug with coffee. "So what is the bedtime story? I hope your news is better than mine. I didn't get anywhere running Sandy's name in the database. All I got was an official looking badge and a 'access denied', notice."

Instead of replying, Clora looked at Sandy and Wayne. "Would you be willing to have Will inspect your marks?" At their nods, she faced Will and explained. "Pete left us with birthmarks; my mark and Ben's are the same, but I would like your opinion on the one's Sandy and Wayne have."

Will nodded, and waited for the kids to make the next move. It was Clora the surprised them all. "See the hourglass shape of mine and how rough and raised it is, almost like a skin mole?" She moved next to Will and showed him the knobby patch on her chest. "Now, look at Wayne's."

Will touched the supposed birthmark on Wayne's chest, "it's smooth, barely raised, and difficult to feel even that. The problem is, if you look at it as a tattoo, that's all you can see." Will scooted the lamp closer, and then used the flashlight from his belt. "See here," he took the edge of his spoon and pulled the skin taut. "It looks like a needle track with ink in it. See how long it is. I am 99% certain this is a tattoo. There are other dots that are out of line."

"Are you comfortable showing me your mark?" he asked Sandy.

"Yeah," she said with a shrug, and eased her blouse off her shoulder. "I feel like a bug, but Clora you pull the chemise down as I can't see where it is."

Wayne muscled closer, staring intently at the mark as it appeared. He snagged a chair and sat knee to knee with Will, with his nose practically in Sandy's armpit. "Thats a really dark, messy looking mark, not like mine or Clora's. How long have you had this?" Wayne's warm breath tickled Sandy's skin.

Clora replied, "Sandy came with it, when she was dropped off at our house. We thought she was about two years old, but had no clue. We were kids ourselves, so our recollections could be off. Most of the rest of it came from the folders the FBI seemed to have on us."

"And now that information is suspect," Will spoke as he pulled the skin tight on Sandy's ribs. "Look here, this is just as bad a ink job as you have Wayne."

Wayne was busy looking, but not necessarily at the tattoo. "Oh, yeah, humm. As she has grown it has stretched out of shape so you can really see the ink dots."

"Again, I am 99% sure this is a tattoo, there is only the slightest raise to the skin." Will replied with a professional detachment.

Wayne's thumb touched her mark and then went to his own. "They feel the same," he half whispered. Suddenly it was way to hot in the kitchen and he pushed back and went for the door.

Mark grabbed for Clora's arm, "easy sweetie, he just needs to cool off."

"Oh," and her exclamation made the men laugh.

"Well folks, it's time for sleep. Hey Mark, will you wake me in the morning before Brett leaves, I've got to talk with him." Will requested sleepily.

"Sure," Mark obliged, "be happy to."

Clora looked like she wanted to talk, but Mark dragged her down the hall. "Let it go Honey, it's not your business," he teased as he got fresh with the strap of her chemise. "Humm, I think we have important business right here," and he shut the door firmly.


Trey was the first one up the next morning and he went in search of Willie, looking for a playmate. Will opened one eye and mumbled that Willie was still sleeping. The grey dawn not light enough to see well, but his son was a lump under his covers.

"Well, he won't be when I wake him up," Trey said with total logic. "It's time to get up."

"Where's your Daddy?" Will asked with exaggerated patience, hoping Trey would go away.

"Sleeping and snoring," Trey was so matter of fact that Will grimaced. Something was wrong with that child, and when he got done with Brett, Brett was gonna be bent out of shape.

"OK kiddo, are the ladies in the kitchen?"

"Yup, starting breakfast. They are whispering a lot and told me to go back to bed. I don't want to. Usually they get me hot chocolate, they are mean today." Trey's lower lip wobbled.

"Go play in the living room, and I'll be right out." Will ordered and listened to Trey pad out of the room.

Will stretched out, enjoying those moments of being awake but not needing to spring out of bed. He watched the door swing inward and Trey peeked around, "are you coming?" he asked impatiently.

"Out, until I get there." Will said with authority, and Trey scooted.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Ever wish your computer could read to you so you could keep up with all the stories? Well, mine can't so I've got to do it by hand so to speak ... but I've finally caught up. Lord have mercy what a lot of twists and turns! LOL! This is as good as an Agatha Christie mystery. We need Poirot or Miss Marple stat!

 

[peekaboo]

How could I have missed this being up for a whole week? Absolutely love this story and this family. You tell such wonderful stories Pac.

 

[sssarawolf]

Just leaves me wanting more lol.