Premonitions
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Pac thanks for the posts, I see that your wonderful story continues to lead us down new rabbit trails. You have a way of always making us want more of the story, now, you are truly a blessed writer.
Wayne
Wayne
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#72
"Ev, calm down a minute, talk to me. What in the world is bringing this up right now? I need you to take me to town to the doctor tomorrow and the kids, why the kids won't know what to do if you up and disappear." Cheryl felt a panic she had not felt in a long time. In the first years of their marriage, Ev had some pretty harum-scarum ideas and the means to implementing those thoughts, but he had mellowed, or so she thought. Obviously, no such luck.
"Oh yeah, I had forgotten about the doctor. We'll do that tomorrow, I can get some better boots while we are in town; good idea..." Ev hummed around the kitchen, pleased that the turn of events were in his favor.
Ev had the bit in his mouth and was charging straight ahead at a full gallop. To his credit, Cheryl thought he looked more alive than he had in a long time, so Ev evidently need to do this thing. Besides, nothing short of a nuclear blast would deter the man, once he got started.
"I'm so tired, I need to go to bed. Let me get a drink of water first, for some reason I sure have been thirsty lately." Cheryl sighed as she hauled herself out of the chair. ..."and don't you remind me of how old I am, that's off the table." lacking any thing solid, Cheryl threw the dish towel at her wildly grinning husband.
"OK," Ev agreed with a wicked smile, "after all you're some younger than me, I understand." he said in his best patronizing voice.
Clora and Mark sat in the dark talking in low tones. "Do you really feel good enough to go to work on Monday?" Clora questioned, worried about her husband.
"Yes," Mark asserted as he twisted his torso back and forth, "Clora, I'm really looking forward to the challenges this job represents. It dove tails nicely with my education and previous training, it's mentally taxing and the people I'm going to be working with are professionals. I appreciate that aspect more than they know."
"I worry about you being out on the streets with the traffic; especially after that 'dim bulb' tried to take us out by slamming into the car. Has anyone, say Will, ever had an explanation of who that guy was? Has he been arrested? It would be nice if we weren't targeted by all the deadbeat loonies in the world." Clora sputtered.
"Speaking of loonies," she amended, "That strange man has two more days to make an appearance, I'm so glad you are home, that's one meeting I want you and Ben there. I have a hinky feeling about him, this isn't going to be a pleasant time for sure."
"Ev, calm down a minute, talk to me. What in the world is bringing this up right now? I need you to take me to town to the doctor tomorrow and the kids, why the kids won't know what to do if you up and disappear." Cheryl felt a panic she had not felt in a long time. In the first years of their marriage, Ev had some pretty harum-scarum ideas and the means to implementing those thoughts, but he had mellowed, or so she thought. Obviously, no such luck.
"Oh yeah, I had forgotten about the doctor. We'll do that tomorrow, I can get some better boots while we are in town; good idea..." Ev hummed around the kitchen, pleased that the turn of events were in his favor.
Ev had the bit in his mouth and was charging straight ahead at a full gallop. To his credit, Cheryl thought he looked more alive than he had in a long time, so Ev evidently need to do this thing. Besides, nothing short of a nuclear blast would deter the man, once he got started.
"I'm so tired, I need to go to bed. Let me get a drink of water first, for some reason I sure have been thirsty lately." Cheryl sighed as she hauled herself out of the chair. ..."and don't you remind me of how old I am, that's off the table." lacking any thing solid, Cheryl threw the dish towel at her wildly grinning husband.
"OK," Ev agreed with a wicked smile, "after all you're some younger than me, I understand." he said in his best patronizing voice.
Clora and Mark sat in the dark talking in low tones. "Do you really feel good enough to go to work on Monday?" Clora questioned, worried about her husband.
"Yes," Mark asserted as he twisted his torso back and forth, "Clora, I'm really looking forward to the challenges this job represents. It dove tails nicely with my education and previous training, it's mentally taxing and the people I'm going to be working with are professionals. I appreciate that aspect more than they know."
"I worry about you being out on the streets with the traffic; especially after that 'dim bulb' tried to take us out by slamming into the car. Has anyone, say Will, ever had an explanation of who that guy was? Has he been arrested? It would be nice if we weren't targeted by all the deadbeat loonies in the world." Clora sputtered.
"Speaking of loonies," she amended, "That strange man has two more days to make an appearance, I'm so glad you are home, that's one meeting I want you and Ben there. I have a hinky feeling about him, this isn't going to be a pleasant time for sure."
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thanks for the chapter Pac.
Wayne
Wayne
223shootersc
Veteran Member
glad you are back, thanks for the new segment
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you much Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#73
The cold, crisp morning was windy enough to blow a hat into the next county. Ominous, billowing thunderclouds chased holes in the cloud cover that dared to show a glimpse of sunshine. Mark went to do chores and came back in with cold, chapped cheeks and a large bucket of steaming warm milk.
"Mama dog and Otis were happy to get a warm drink this morning. That pup, I think he's gonna be as big as Mama and Inky put together; his feet are already as big as salad plates and his appetite is larger than a washtub." Mark grumbled as he placed the milk pail on the counter. "I'm glad I've got a job, I can see the dog food bill going through the roof."
Milo sat at the kitchen table drowning a poor pancake in butter and syrup. "Kin I get another?" he asked Clora.
Clora turned around to stare at the happy, busy boy. "Milo, where in the world did you hear that type of English?"
Milo looked up with a smear of syrup around his mouth and jerked his thumb in the direction of Ev's place. His mouth was too busy to speak, as he had stuffed in an enormous bite of hotcake.
Clora nodded and pursed her lips, almost but not quite wanting to tap her toe in annoyance. Ev was proving a less than stellar influence on the kids, and she needed to speak to Lainey and Cheryl.
"Look's like Ev and Cheryl are headed into town, they left Ronnie at Ben's and took Christy with them," Mark reported from his vantage point at the window.
"Cheryl had an appointment this morning, I'm glad she's finally going in cause she's lost so much weight that doesn't speak well to her health." Clora was preoccupied, dishing up another pancake to Milo the bottomless pit. At four, he was already on his third flapjack and getting ready to glop it with a golf ball sized lump of butter. "Not so much Milo, use this amount," Clora used a table knife to scrape a curl of the creamy pale yellow butter and wiped in on the steaming pancake. "Any more than that and it won't melt."
"I like it," Milo said somewhat stubbornly, holding on to his fork mashing the huge butter blob into the poor pancake.
"Hey sport, don't backtalk to Aunt Cora please, that's not how gentlemen treat their ladies," Mark admonished the youngster, and Milo ducked his head.
"Sorry Auntie C., I'm trying to be good, don't be mads at me." Milo had a definite catch in his voice.
"I don't want you to be sick with so much richness in your stomach, slow down and chew your food and you'll do fine," Clora said gently, giving Milo a smile.
The morning went well, the small family worked together as they completed the daily chores and helped Clora strip the beds for washing. The routine, hum drum chores made more more pleasurable by helping hands and comfortable company.
"Hey! Look Auntie C., there's a car coming up the drive way. Who are they?" Milo left warm nose prints on the cool window pane as he plastered his face for a better look.
Mark moved to the window and turned to give Clora a warning look. "It our problem," he said briskly, as he opened the bedroom door. "I'll go out the back way and get Ben. Co'mon Sport, let's go visit Auntie Lainey."
"I don't wanna," Milo started to pout. "I wanna stay."
"No problems," Mark said firmly. "Not today, not now. Do you understand?" his voice was thick with warning, and Milo, ever the small con man got the meaning loud and clear.
"Yes Sir," the pint sized rascal figured he had pushed the wrong buttons and now had better behave himself.
Clora smoothed her hair with a quick look in the dresser mirror, and went downstairs to meet the company she wanted nothing to do with.
Ev paced restlessly in the waiting room, bugging the sick, hurt and fretful by his incessant movements. Cheryl tried several times to get him to sit down, and finally the waiting room receptionist took matters in her own hands and pointed to the door. Ev gave her a grumpy look and sat, pretending that it was his idea in the first place.
They had dropped Christy off at the Library, and gone to the Doctor's office. When it finally came their turn, Ev loped in the room dragging Cheryl by the hand behind him. The overworked Nurse practitioner gasped in surprise as the semi-tamed man burst in the room pulling his wife. "Fix her," he demanded, sitting solidly in the chair folding his arms securely across his chest.
"Ev!" Cheryl scolded under her breath. "Mind your manners, don't scare the lady."
Ev looked up under his busy, thick eyebrows and stared at the NP, who was almost visibly shaking. "Ah, I don't mean nothin bad," he apologized. "Sorry if I frightened you."
"Who has the appointment?" the woman questioned, finally gathering enough courage to look at the file in her hand.
The cold, crisp morning was windy enough to blow a hat into the next county. Ominous, billowing thunderclouds chased holes in the cloud cover that dared to show a glimpse of sunshine. Mark went to do chores and came back in with cold, chapped cheeks and a large bucket of steaming warm milk.
"Mama dog and Otis were happy to get a warm drink this morning. That pup, I think he's gonna be as big as Mama and Inky put together; his feet are already as big as salad plates and his appetite is larger than a washtub." Mark grumbled as he placed the milk pail on the counter. "I'm glad I've got a job, I can see the dog food bill going through the roof."
Milo sat at the kitchen table drowning a poor pancake in butter and syrup. "Kin I get another?" he asked Clora.
Clora turned around to stare at the happy, busy boy. "Milo, where in the world did you hear that type of English?"
Milo looked up with a smear of syrup around his mouth and jerked his thumb in the direction of Ev's place. His mouth was too busy to speak, as he had stuffed in an enormous bite of hotcake.
Clora nodded and pursed her lips, almost but not quite wanting to tap her toe in annoyance. Ev was proving a less than stellar influence on the kids, and she needed to speak to Lainey and Cheryl.
"Look's like Ev and Cheryl are headed into town, they left Ronnie at Ben's and took Christy with them," Mark reported from his vantage point at the window.
"Cheryl had an appointment this morning, I'm glad she's finally going in cause she's lost so much weight that doesn't speak well to her health." Clora was preoccupied, dishing up another pancake to Milo the bottomless pit. At four, he was already on his third flapjack and getting ready to glop it with a golf ball sized lump of butter. "Not so much Milo, use this amount," Clora used a table knife to scrape a curl of the creamy pale yellow butter and wiped in on the steaming pancake. "Any more than that and it won't melt."
"I like it," Milo said somewhat stubbornly, holding on to his fork mashing the huge butter blob into the poor pancake.
"Hey sport, don't backtalk to Aunt Cora please, that's not how gentlemen treat their ladies," Mark admonished the youngster, and Milo ducked his head.
"Sorry Auntie C., I'm trying to be good, don't be mads at me." Milo had a definite catch in his voice.
"I don't want you to be sick with so much richness in your stomach, slow down and chew your food and you'll do fine," Clora said gently, giving Milo a smile.
The morning went well, the small family worked together as they completed the daily chores and helped Clora strip the beds for washing. The routine, hum drum chores made more more pleasurable by helping hands and comfortable company.
"Hey! Look Auntie C., there's a car coming up the drive way. Who are they?" Milo left warm nose prints on the cool window pane as he plastered his face for a better look.
Mark moved to the window and turned to give Clora a warning look. "It our problem," he said briskly, as he opened the bedroom door. "I'll go out the back way and get Ben. Co'mon Sport, let's go visit Auntie Lainey."
"I don't wanna," Milo started to pout. "I wanna stay."
"No problems," Mark said firmly. "Not today, not now. Do you understand?" his voice was thick with warning, and Milo, ever the small con man got the meaning loud and clear.
"Yes Sir," the pint sized rascal figured he had pushed the wrong buttons and now had better behave himself.
Clora smoothed her hair with a quick look in the dresser mirror, and went downstairs to meet the company she wanted nothing to do with.
Ev paced restlessly in the waiting room, bugging the sick, hurt and fretful by his incessant movements. Cheryl tried several times to get him to sit down, and finally the waiting room receptionist took matters in her own hands and pointed to the door. Ev gave her a grumpy look and sat, pretending that it was his idea in the first place.
They had dropped Christy off at the Library, and gone to the Doctor's office. When it finally came their turn, Ev loped in the room dragging Cheryl by the hand behind him. The overworked Nurse practitioner gasped in surprise as the semi-tamed man burst in the room pulling his wife. "Fix her," he demanded, sitting solidly in the chair folding his arms securely across his chest.
"Ev!" Cheryl scolded under her breath. "Mind your manners, don't scare the lady."
Ev looked up under his busy, thick eyebrows and stared at the NP, who was almost visibly shaking. "Ah, I don't mean nothin bad," he apologized. "Sorry if I frightened you."
"Who has the appointment?" the woman questioned, finally gathering enough courage to look at the file in her hand.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#74
Gathering her courage, the NP said,"Mr. Wilson, I am going to have you sit in the waiting room while I examine your wife," to reinforce her edict, the woman opened the exam room door and pointed toward the lobby.
Dismissed well and truly by an incensed professional, Ev slunk back to the waiting room where all the ladies stared at him, the loud verbal exchange heard all over the woman's clinic. He picked up a magazine to read and then put it down quickly when he discovered it was a LaLeche League publication. Dropping the magazine like it was a hot rock, Ev settled for pulling his ball cap bill low on his forehead and staring at his boots like they were the most interesting items he had ever seen.
Mary Westlake closed the door and turned to look at the tall, thin woman arranging herself on the exam table. "Are you feeling pressured," the nurse probed gently, "do you have a problem with your husband being over controlling and or abusive verbally, physically or mentally?"
Cheryl looked up with a "Duh," expression on her face and then broke into laughter when the whole intent of the nurse's concern processed in her mind.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Cheryl apologized as she scratched an itch on her arm;" Ev is always like that, nothing ever goes quickly enough for him. But as to being abusive, no not ever; not in any way." Cheryl looked around the room, "Is there anyway I could have a drink of water please?"
The NP gathered up a small paper cup of water and passed it to Cheryl as she took her vitals. A few probing questions later, Mary reached into the cupboard and took out a small pouch. "Tell me Cheryl, have you ever tested your blood sugar? I am seeing some classic signs of untreated diabetes." Seconds later the small machine beeped and the number 311 came up on the screen.
"Umm, Cheryl, this is a high number." Mary cleaned the puncture sight with another alcohol pad and put the testing equipment away. "I would like to get a fasting blood test tomorrow morning? Would that be possible?"
"Yes, ...so you think I might have Diabetes? I had no idea?" Cheryl wasn't surprised, but not happy at the news. "Do you think I might have to use Insulin?"
"That's what the fasting test is for, and if it is necessary we will do a full test with orange juice, but I expect you A1c will tell me what I need to know. Now do you have any other concerns?"
"My loss of energy is a problem, I...I mean we, have a 16 year old daughter and a 6 year old foster child and I am just tapped out of energy all the time. There is always way more work than time and energy to get it done."
"Cheryl, I have every reason to believe that your energy level will improve when you have a more level insulin response, if it doesn't, then we can do more tests. You may expect a learning curve of more than a month. Give it some time, see if you improve and we'll go from there. Come back in about 6 weeks, after we do the test tomorrow." Mary paused at the doorway, hesitating briefly. "If you ever need to talk or need a safe place, call me directly," and she passed Cheryl a business card with her home number written on it. Then she was out the door without another word.
Cheryl walked out to collect Ev, her husband sweating nervously in the hostile environment.
Gathering her courage, the NP said,"Mr. Wilson, I am going to have you sit in the waiting room while I examine your wife," to reinforce her edict, the woman opened the exam room door and pointed toward the lobby.
Dismissed well and truly by an incensed professional, Ev slunk back to the waiting room where all the ladies stared at him, the loud verbal exchange heard all over the woman's clinic. He picked up a magazine to read and then put it down quickly when he discovered it was a LaLeche League publication. Dropping the magazine like it was a hot rock, Ev settled for pulling his ball cap bill low on his forehead and staring at his boots like they were the most interesting items he had ever seen.
Mary Westlake closed the door and turned to look at the tall, thin woman arranging herself on the exam table. "Are you feeling pressured," the nurse probed gently, "do you have a problem with your husband being over controlling and or abusive verbally, physically or mentally?"
Cheryl looked up with a "Duh," expression on her face and then broke into laughter when the whole intent of the nurse's concern processed in her mind.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Cheryl apologized as she scratched an itch on her arm;" Ev is always like that, nothing ever goes quickly enough for him. But as to being abusive, no not ever; not in any way." Cheryl looked around the room, "Is there anyway I could have a drink of water please?"
The NP gathered up a small paper cup of water and passed it to Cheryl as she took her vitals. A few probing questions later, Mary reached into the cupboard and took out a small pouch. "Tell me Cheryl, have you ever tested your blood sugar? I am seeing some classic signs of untreated diabetes." Seconds later the small machine beeped and the number 311 came up on the screen.
"Umm, Cheryl, this is a high number." Mary cleaned the puncture sight with another alcohol pad and put the testing equipment away. "I would like to get a fasting blood test tomorrow morning? Would that be possible?"
"Yes, ...so you think I might have Diabetes? I had no idea?" Cheryl wasn't surprised, but not happy at the news. "Do you think I might have to use Insulin?"
"That's what the fasting test is for, and if it is necessary we will do a full test with orange juice, but I expect you A1c will tell me what I need to know. Now do you have any other concerns?"
"My loss of energy is a problem, I...I mean we, have a 16 year old daughter and a 6 year old foster child and I am just tapped out of energy all the time. There is always way more work than time and energy to get it done."
"Cheryl, I have every reason to believe that your energy level will improve when you have a more level insulin response, if it doesn't, then we can do more tests. You may expect a learning curve of more than a month. Give it some time, see if you improve and we'll go from there. Come back in about 6 weeks, after we do the test tomorrow." Mary paused at the doorway, hesitating briefly. "If you ever need to talk or need a safe place, call me directly," and she passed Cheryl a business card with her home number written on it. Then she was out the door without another word.
Cheryl walked out to collect Ev, her husband sweating nervously in the hostile environment.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#74b
"Tomorrow!" Ev was dismayed but tried hard not to show it. "Well, let's get the shopping done and collect Christy and get for home." and he loped to the pickup leaving Cheryl standing in his dust.
"Hold up there Lone Ranger!" Cheryl demanded, "the pickup isn't trying to get away, just don't frighten it into bolting." she laughed as she tried to get the door open. "Ev, you're gonna have to help me; I can't get this..rotten..door..to open." Cheryl jerked and jerked and nothing happened.
The old pickup was in enough of a torque in the sloping parking lot, that the door was pinched and refused to open. "Ev, have you ever considered another pickup? Maybe it's time." she muttered as she scrambled up into the cab in a most undignified way.
"Good looking hunk of leg there.." Ev tweaked on his mustache, as he gave Cheryl a hand up.
"I may have to use it to get home," Cheryl said tartly, "this old clunker may not make it."
"I'm totally affronted," Ev said darkly, "that you would speak such unkind thoughts about this gilded chariot. Just think what history we have with this conveyance, why she's been a part of the family for many years." he said smugly.
"Oh yes," Cheryl agreed sweetly. "It was one of the first Wilson's to come west alright. She probably carried the dutch oven, cast iron frying pan and the sourdough starter." then she spoiled it but bursting out in laughter, having to stop to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.
"Woman...woman you wound me to the quick," Ev belted in and went to turn the ignition. It wouldn't start, naturally. "Now see what you have done," Ev complained with a quirky grin. "You've hurt her feelings."
"Here let me solve the problem," Cheryl offered as she raised her booted foot and stomped on the floorboard. "now try it."
"Your kidding ..right?" Ev hesitated and then twisted the ignition once more. Coughing and sputtering, the old diesel slobbered into a semblance of smooth running and Cheryl looked at Ev and shrugged her shoulders. "Works," was all she said.
"Must be a loose or bare wire," Ev supposed as he turned down the street.
"Ha, you wish." came the gentle feminine retort.
Ev outfitted himself with winter gear, new boots and clothes. The freeze dried meal section fascinated him and Cheryl encouraged a new mess kit and bottles that included water filters. "You had better get a warmer sleeping bag and tent. Do you have enough ammunition?" On and On her list went until Ev grew concerned.
"Pay attention old man," Cheryl sniped. "You're not the kid you once were, and the ground is a lot harder and colder at your age. I don't intend to loose you to pneumonia just because you are feeling parsimonious."
"Well yesss Ma'am," he snapped to attention. "What ever you say Ma'am," he joked.
The poor young clerk swiveled his head back and forth between the two of them as they bantered down the isles, throwing an immense collection of gear into the shopping buggy. He hovered anxiously, praying that this strange couple had enough money to pay, if only so he didn't have to restock all of the items.
They paid with greenbacks and the clerk gratefully carried the bulging sacks out to the most disreputable looking crew cab diesel pickup he had ever seen. It looked like someone had started a graffiti binge and got tired before they got done. His boss was standing at the door when the inexperienced young man returned to the store.
"Did you check the bills with the pen?" was all he asked.
"Yes Sir, every one of them," the clerk replied, and they were both happy.
Gathering up Christy, they rumbled for home.
Clora opened the door for her visitors, polite but not especially welcoming. Stannous Moan and two other gentlemen entered and sat in the living room. "We can begin our visit as soon as my husband and brother come up from the barn. I notified them you were coming in." Clora explained. The two unintroduced men whispered between themselves, staring almost rudely at Clora. She had a impulse to jump at them and yell boo, just to see them scatter. But, almost regretfully, she contained herself.
Ben and Mark came in the back door, cleaning their feet and hanging up their coats. Ben came in first rubbing his hands together and acting right at home. The First unnamed visitor jumped to his feet, rushing over to pump Ben's hand up and down and gibbering in a strange sounding language.
Mark came in next and went to stand close to Clora. Stannous and the second man cried out in fright and the man grabbed at his pocket and produced a pistol he aimed straight at Mark. It was a tense, strained moment until Clora said coldly, but regally, "What is the meaning of this."
"Tomorrow!" Ev was dismayed but tried hard not to show it. "Well, let's get the shopping done and collect Christy and get for home." and he loped to the pickup leaving Cheryl standing in his dust.
"Hold up there Lone Ranger!" Cheryl demanded, "the pickup isn't trying to get away, just don't frighten it into bolting." she laughed as she tried to get the door open. "Ev, you're gonna have to help me; I can't get this..rotten..door..to open." Cheryl jerked and jerked and nothing happened.
The old pickup was in enough of a torque in the sloping parking lot, that the door was pinched and refused to open. "Ev, have you ever considered another pickup? Maybe it's time." she muttered as she scrambled up into the cab in a most undignified way.
"Good looking hunk of leg there.." Ev tweaked on his mustache, as he gave Cheryl a hand up.
"I may have to use it to get home," Cheryl said tartly, "this old clunker may not make it."
"I'm totally affronted," Ev said darkly, "that you would speak such unkind thoughts about this gilded chariot. Just think what history we have with this conveyance, why she's been a part of the family for many years." he said smugly.
"Oh yes," Cheryl agreed sweetly. "It was one of the first Wilson's to come west alright. She probably carried the dutch oven, cast iron frying pan and the sourdough starter." then she spoiled it but bursting out in laughter, having to stop to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.
"Woman...woman you wound me to the quick," Ev belted in and went to turn the ignition. It wouldn't start, naturally. "Now see what you have done," Ev complained with a quirky grin. "You've hurt her feelings."
"Here let me solve the problem," Cheryl offered as she raised her booted foot and stomped on the floorboard. "now try it."
"Your kidding ..right?" Ev hesitated and then twisted the ignition once more. Coughing and sputtering, the old diesel slobbered into a semblance of smooth running and Cheryl looked at Ev and shrugged her shoulders. "Works," was all she said.
"Must be a loose or bare wire," Ev supposed as he turned down the street.
"Ha, you wish." came the gentle feminine retort.
Ev outfitted himself with winter gear, new boots and clothes. The freeze dried meal section fascinated him and Cheryl encouraged a new mess kit and bottles that included water filters. "You had better get a warmer sleeping bag and tent. Do you have enough ammunition?" On and On her list went until Ev grew concerned.
"Pay attention old man," Cheryl sniped. "You're not the kid you once were, and the ground is a lot harder and colder at your age. I don't intend to loose you to pneumonia just because you are feeling parsimonious."
"Well yesss Ma'am," he snapped to attention. "What ever you say Ma'am," he joked.
The poor young clerk swiveled his head back and forth between the two of them as they bantered down the isles, throwing an immense collection of gear into the shopping buggy. He hovered anxiously, praying that this strange couple had enough money to pay, if only so he didn't have to restock all of the items.
They paid with greenbacks and the clerk gratefully carried the bulging sacks out to the most disreputable looking crew cab diesel pickup he had ever seen. It looked like someone had started a graffiti binge and got tired before they got done. His boss was standing at the door when the inexperienced young man returned to the store.
"Did you check the bills with the pen?" was all he asked.
"Yes Sir, every one of them," the clerk replied, and they were both happy.
Gathering up Christy, they rumbled for home.
Clora opened the door for her visitors, polite but not especially welcoming. Stannous Moan and two other gentlemen entered and sat in the living room. "We can begin our visit as soon as my husband and brother come up from the barn. I notified them you were coming in." Clora explained. The two unintroduced men whispered between themselves, staring almost rudely at Clora. She had a impulse to jump at them and yell boo, just to see them scatter. But, almost regretfully, she contained herself.
Ben and Mark came in the back door, cleaning their feet and hanging up their coats. Ben came in first rubbing his hands together and acting right at home. The First unnamed visitor jumped to his feet, rushing over to pump Ben's hand up and down and gibbering in a strange sounding language.
Mark came in next and went to stand close to Clora. Stannous and the second man cried out in fright and the man grabbed at his pocket and produced a pistol he aimed straight at Mark. It was a tense, strained moment until Clora said coldly, but regally, "What is the meaning of this."
bad_karma00
Underachiever
Okay. It's seriously time to shoot these foreigners, and bury them on the back forty. Enough is enough, and the Hanson's have suffered enough.
I mean, if you think so anyway Pac. I'm not trying to dictate your story, lol. The thing is, you've created a world that I almost live in myself, and I'm starting to take threats to the family personally. If that's not a sign of great writing, then there's no such thing at all.
Thank you so much for this wonderful world I can escape to once in a while.
Bad
I mean, if you think so anyway Pac. I'm not trying to dictate your story, lol. The thing is, you've created a world that I almost live in myself, and I'm starting to take threats to the family personally. If that's not a sign of great writing, then there's no such thing at all.
Thank you so much for this wonderful world I can escape to once in a while.
Bad
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#75
Guessing rightly that the man would not shoot her, Clora angled herself between the pistol waving fanatic and her beloved husband. "Put that gun away, I will not have that in my house," she commanded with an icy sneer.
"Sorry Love," Mark put his hands on her shoulders and positioned himself in front of her, shielding her with his bulk. "I took the oath, remember?" At her nonplussed and blank look, he clarified, "Our wedding vows, if you recall I specifically put in to cherish and protect. I meant them."
Scowling at the two men, he pinned them with a pointed stare, "Your visit is over Gentlemen, please leave."
The happily ecstatic man that had been pumping away at Ben's hand, stood staring at his compatriots as he continued to shake in automan form. Ben took his cue from the slight movement he made to withdraw his hand and the man tightened his grip imperceptibly, preventing his release.
Ben let out a small whistle and in lightening fast moves the men of the Hanson clan had the handshaker with his arm twisted behind him and a knife at his throat; and Mark had the so called Prime Minister in the same hold.
"Now gentlemen, I suggest you start talking, you first Mr. Moan. Let's have a reasonable explanation for coming in our house and behaving as you are," and for emphasis, Mark twisted the arm in his vice like grip and lifted on it until the visibly sweating Prime Minister was standing on his tip toes.
The man pointing the pistol wavered back and forth, not knowing which group of men to cover with his weapon. Mark watched as the man hesitated and then settled on training his weapon on Clora as a means to end the standoff. Reading the man's intentions, Mark lifted up the portly Prime Minister and threw him at the shooter. The gun went off, wounding Stannous Moan in the right shoulder. His subsequent yelp of surprise was loud after the gun retort.
It was the gun shot that Will and Ev heard as they stood leaning casually against the battered Ford pickup, talking about Ev's intent to traipse back to Evergreen.
"What the hell?" Will instinctively ducked behind the fender. "We can't leave those two alone for twenty minutes before they get into trouble. You go back behind the houses, I'll weave up around the back of the barn. Got your gun on you?" he questioned Ev.
"Always," Ev went for his shoulder holster. "That looks like that weird dude that was here, some mucky-muck in some weird frigging country nobody has ever heard about."
.
"Figures," Will said with a disgusted spit into the slushy snow.
Meeting at the back door of the main house, Will and Ev entered silently with guns drawn. Stannous Moan was on the floor writhing in pain, rapidly talking in his foreign tongue, shouting at the shooter.
Ben stood off to the side with the dark, curly haired man firmly in his grip and immobilized with his nicely sharp Tanto at the man's throat.
Mark had his Glock in hand, trained on the shooter, and was reaching over to kick Moan in the buttocks with the toe of his boot.
"STOP!" He commanded harshly. "No more speaking unless it is in English. All you men understand the language, use it!"
Ev whistled before he and Will eased into the room, alerting Mark and Ben that they were there.
"Welcome to the party," Ben joked. "These gentlemen were just about to explain why they are here, weren't you?" and he uplifted the stranger's arm until the man cried out.
"Let's entertain these fellows with some zip ties," Will suggested pleasantly. "I think they should stay for the matinée, and not rush off." he said factiously.
Clora had her own gun in hand, the small 38 never away from her pocket. "Mr. Moan, I suggest you begin by introducing these gentlemen, I find it hard to overlook your deplorable manners."
"Princess," he began apologetically, more sweat popping out on his brow, "please forgive my acquaintance's hasty actions. I cannot say why they are behaving in such a manner. I had no intention for this to happen. We were so startled to see that man here in the house and old habits die hard."
"He," and Moan jerked his head in Mark's direction, "is our mortal enemy, and we thought perhaps you were in danger yourself."
Mark leveled a glare at the man for daring to believe he would hurt his beloved Clora, and then remarked, "Well, points for your quick thinking; but that's not gonna fly here. We don't believe you." he stood with feet firmly planted and arms crossed daring the three men sitting trussed on the couch to tell another lie.
In his best professional voice, Will asked for their names, writing in his notebook; Stannous Moan, Gregor Moan and Klaus Linderman.
"You, any relation to Mark?" Will interrogated the shooter and pushed on the man's reluctance to talk.
"I am his father's brother," the man ground out, looking with hatred and arrogance at Mark, who was showing no surprise.
Clora stepped up behind Mark and whispered in his ear. He turned to look at her with a puzzled expression, and then responded to the nervous spokesman, "Borg Linderman is not my father, so how are you related to me?"
Guessing rightly that the man would not shoot her, Clora angled herself between the pistol waving fanatic and her beloved husband. "Put that gun away, I will not have that in my house," she commanded with an icy sneer.
"Sorry Love," Mark put his hands on her shoulders and positioned himself in front of her, shielding her with his bulk. "I took the oath, remember?" At her nonplussed and blank look, he clarified, "Our wedding vows, if you recall I specifically put in to cherish and protect. I meant them."
Scowling at the two men, he pinned them with a pointed stare, "Your visit is over Gentlemen, please leave."
The happily ecstatic man that had been pumping away at Ben's hand, stood staring at his compatriots as he continued to shake in automan form. Ben took his cue from the slight movement he made to withdraw his hand and the man tightened his grip imperceptibly, preventing his release.
Ben let out a small whistle and in lightening fast moves the men of the Hanson clan had the handshaker with his arm twisted behind him and a knife at his throat; and Mark had the so called Prime Minister in the same hold.
"Now gentlemen, I suggest you start talking, you first Mr. Moan. Let's have a reasonable explanation for coming in our house and behaving as you are," and for emphasis, Mark twisted the arm in his vice like grip and lifted on it until the visibly sweating Prime Minister was standing on his tip toes.
The man pointing the pistol wavered back and forth, not knowing which group of men to cover with his weapon. Mark watched as the man hesitated and then settled on training his weapon on Clora as a means to end the standoff. Reading the man's intentions, Mark lifted up the portly Prime Minister and threw him at the shooter. The gun went off, wounding Stannous Moan in the right shoulder. His subsequent yelp of surprise was loud after the gun retort.
It was the gun shot that Will and Ev heard as they stood leaning casually against the battered Ford pickup, talking about Ev's intent to traipse back to Evergreen.
"What the hell?" Will instinctively ducked behind the fender. "We can't leave those two alone for twenty minutes before they get into trouble. You go back behind the houses, I'll weave up around the back of the barn. Got your gun on you?" he questioned Ev.
"Always," Ev went for his shoulder holster. "That looks like that weird dude that was here, some mucky-muck in some weird frigging country nobody has ever heard about."
.
"Figures," Will said with a disgusted spit into the slushy snow.
Meeting at the back door of the main house, Will and Ev entered silently with guns drawn. Stannous Moan was on the floor writhing in pain, rapidly talking in his foreign tongue, shouting at the shooter.
Ben stood off to the side with the dark, curly haired man firmly in his grip and immobilized with his nicely sharp Tanto at the man's throat.
Mark had his Glock in hand, trained on the shooter, and was reaching over to kick Moan in the buttocks with the toe of his boot.
"STOP!" He commanded harshly. "No more speaking unless it is in English. All you men understand the language, use it!"
Ev whistled before he and Will eased into the room, alerting Mark and Ben that they were there.
"Welcome to the party," Ben joked. "These gentlemen were just about to explain why they are here, weren't you?" and he uplifted the stranger's arm until the man cried out.
"Let's entertain these fellows with some zip ties," Will suggested pleasantly. "I think they should stay for the matinée, and not rush off." he said factiously.
Clora had her own gun in hand, the small 38 never away from her pocket. "Mr. Moan, I suggest you begin by introducing these gentlemen, I find it hard to overlook your deplorable manners."
"Princess," he began apologetically, more sweat popping out on his brow, "please forgive my acquaintance's hasty actions. I cannot say why they are behaving in such a manner. I had no intention for this to happen. We were so startled to see that man here in the house and old habits die hard."
"He," and Moan jerked his head in Mark's direction, "is our mortal enemy, and we thought perhaps you were in danger yourself."
Mark leveled a glare at the man for daring to believe he would hurt his beloved Clora, and then remarked, "Well, points for your quick thinking; but that's not gonna fly here. We don't believe you." he stood with feet firmly planted and arms crossed daring the three men sitting trussed on the couch to tell another lie.
In his best professional voice, Will asked for their names, writing in his notebook; Stannous Moan, Gregor Moan and Klaus Linderman.
"You, any relation to Mark?" Will interrogated the shooter and pushed on the man's reluctance to talk.
"I am his father's brother," the man ground out, looking with hatred and arrogance at Mark, who was showing no surprise.
Clora stepped up behind Mark and whispered in his ear. He turned to look at her with a puzzled expression, and then responded to the nervous spokesman, "Borg Linderman is not my father, so how are you related to me?"
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Pac thanks for the new chapter, It seems that the excitement never ends for the family dose it. Thanks again for post.
Wayne
Wayne
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#75b
"Borg! HAH! an inept, inexcusable third or fourth cousin, worth nothing!" The man spat on the floor at the mention of Mark's supposed father. "You are a Linderman from the Black Valley Linderman's, not from the shameful, pitiful city bound Lindermans.
We have been looking for you, but did not expect to find you here with her." and he gathered up a mouthful to spit once again.
"Don't," was all Clora said as she leveled her weapon at the man's belly. "I'm not cleaning up your filthy slobber. I won't clean up your blood either, when I gut shoot you." The threat must have been believable, for the man stopped twitching his face muscles and subsided.
Will stepped in and continued his line of questioning. "So you are not in favor of Clora," he gestured to the shooter, "but you two are," he motioned to the Moans. "Are you brothers?"
"Uncle and Nephew," the older man replied. "Yes, we were hoping to persuade the Princess to come back to her people and accept the man she was betrothed to in absentia. She is a revered person in our country."
"And I," broke in the feisty shooter, "do not want her to come any where near our country. I wish to take young Franz back to his rightful place as head of our Family. How do you Americans manage to foul up our country without trying. You have no idea what meddling problems you have created. Pah!"
"It is a tremendous problem, this husband. Princess I had no idea you were married to this Linderman. This is a complication. Two opposing factions of sworn enemies married to each other, unbelievable." Stannous almost cried as he pondered the incredible horror of it all.
"I can tell you that it will not change." Clora said calmly, hiding the jitters she was feeling. "Mark and I have started a family and we intend to live here. I am not royalty, I will not be a princess for anyone, and I intend to press charges against you men if I ever have contact again. I will sign papers renouncing any claims to any titles; do I make my self clear?"
"Most sadly," Stannous said in resignation, his shoulders sagging and his ancient, wrinkled face looking like a hapless bloodhound's forlorn look. "There is no way to change your mind?" he asked again hopefully looking at her.
"NO!" Clora had no intention of changing her mind, and didn't mind letting them know her firm decision.
"And you," challenged the man that had held the pistol, "are you a spineless man to this demanding woman?' he sneered at Mark.
"The Linderman's are a proud family, bold and fearless fighters for the unification of our country. I can see where we were wrong to let you be raised by Borg, what a useless piece of garbage he is. It is good that your father is not alive to see the wimpy, poor excuse of a man you have become." The man made the mistake of spitting his contempt on the floor.
Clora raised her gun and shot at him.
"I warned you," she said into the stunned silence, no one quite believing she had followed through with her threat.
Mark reached for her hand, gently removing the hot little gun from her fingers.
"She deliberately missed you," Mark addressed the shaking man; "but I won't." and he held up the Glock. "this makes a bigger hole," he cautioned, waving the barrel slightly. "Who is my father," he demanded harshly, changing tactics rapidly.
"Franz Sr.," replied Stannous with a sigh. "an honorable man that fell into ruin, led there by the promise of glory and fame from this man and his side of your family. A shame, a shame," he repeated. "You were sent to America to be safe from the raging factions, you look an uncanny resemblance to your father. A true Linderman."
Mark nodded, taking it all in as he looked at Clora. Suddenly she was hit by a stab to her heart, thinking to herself, he needs to find his family. Mark understood the flash of pain crossing her face, he had felt the uncertainty himself when it became clear she was a princess.
Holding on to Clora's hand, he drew her closer to place her hand over his heart. "I love this woman, and I am what I am. A engineer to the city of Portland, a husband, and a man happy to live in this fantastic family. I am not interested in anything else."
"Gentlemen, I believe that settles the tug of war going on here," Will broke in to motion the strange men to their feet. "You are all under arrest, I am going to take you to the hospital and you will have to be there under my auspices as a lawman, otherwise you will have to do all this explaining to another officer. I can guarantee you he would not be amused and or believe your story."
Glumly, the men stood up and Stannous spoke in their language. His Nephew nodded and the two of them waited for the third man to respond. Finally, with a resigned look at Mark, he nodded. "We are ready," the older man announced. "We will go with you," he looked at Will.
No one noticed that Ev had silently inched his way into the shadows. There was a problem. The one dude that had the gun, was one of the men that had recruited him and had claimed to be from the FBI.
"Borg! HAH! an inept, inexcusable third or fourth cousin, worth nothing!" The man spat on the floor at the mention of Mark's supposed father. "You are a Linderman from the Black Valley Linderman's, not from the shameful, pitiful city bound Lindermans.
We have been looking for you, but did not expect to find you here with her." and he gathered up a mouthful to spit once again.
"Don't," was all Clora said as she leveled her weapon at the man's belly. "I'm not cleaning up your filthy slobber. I won't clean up your blood either, when I gut shoot you." The threat must have been believable, for the man stopped twitching his face muscles and subsided.
Will stepped in and continued his line of questioning. "So you are not in favor of Clora," he gestured to the shooter, "but you two are," he motioned to the Moans. "Are you brothers?"
"Uncle and Nephew," the older man replied. "Yes, we were hoping to persuade the Princess to come back to her people and accept the man she was betrothed to in absentia. She is a revered person in our country."
"And I," broke in the feisty shooter, "do not want her to come any where near our country. I wish to take young Franz back to his rightful place as head of our Family. How do you Americans manage to foul up our country without trying. You have no idea what meddling problems you have created. Pah!"
"It is a tremendous problem, this husband. Princess I had no idea you were married to this Linderman. This is a complication. Two opposing factions of sworn enemies married to each other, unbelievable." Stannous almost cried as he pondered the incredible horror of it all.
"I can tell you that it will not change." Clora said calmly, hiding the jitters she was feeling. "Mark and I have started a family and we intend to live here. I am not royalty, I will not be a princess for anyone, and I intend to press charges against you men if I ever have contact again. I will sign papers renouncing any claims to any titles; do I make my self clear?"
"Most sadly," Stannous said in resignation, his shoulders sagging and his ancient, wrinkled face looking like a hapless bloodhound's forlorn look. "There is no way to change your mind?" he asked again hopefully looking at her.
"NO!" Clora had no intention of changing her mind, and didn't mind letting them know her firm decision.
"And you," challenged the man that had held the pistol, "are you a spineless man to this demanding woman?' he sneered at Mark.
"The Linderman's are a proud family, bold and fearless fighters for the unification of our country. I can see where we were wrong to let you be raised by Borg, what a useless piece of garbage he is. It is good that your father is not alive to see the wimpy, poor excuse of a man you have become." The man made the mistake of spitting his contempt on the floor.
Clora raised her gun and shot at him.
"I warned you," she said into the stunned silence, no one quite believing she had followed through with her threat.
Mark reached for her hand, gently removing the hot little gun from her fingers.
"She deliberately missed you," Mark addressed the shaking man; "but I won't." and he held up the Glock. "this makes a bigger hole," he cautioned, waving the barrel slightly. "Who is my father," he demanded harshly, changing tactics rapidly.
"Franz Sr.," replied Stannous with a sigh. "an honorable man that fell into ruin, led there by the promise of glory and fame from this man and his side of your family. A shame, a shame," he repeated. "You were sent to America to be safe from the raging factions, you look an uncanny resemblance to your father. A true Linderman."
Mark nodded, taking it all in as he looked at Clora. Suddenly she was hit by a stab to her heart, thinking to herself, he needs to find his family. Mark understood the flash of pain crossing her face, he had felt the uncertainty himself when it became clear she was a princess.
Holding on to Clora's hand, he drew her closer to place her hand over his heart. "I love this woman, and I am what I am. A engineer to the city of Portland, a husband, and a man happy to live in this fantastic family. I am not interested in anything else."
"Gentlemen, I believe that settles the tug of war going on here," Will broke in to motion the strange men to their feet. "You are all under arrest, I am going to take you to the hospital and you will have to be there under my auspices as a lawman, otherwise you will have to do all this explaining to another officer. I can guarantee you he would not be amused and or believe your story."
Glumly, the men stood up and Stannous spoke in their language. His Nephew nodded and the two of them waited for the third man to respond. Finally, with a resigned look at Mark, he nodded. "We are ready," the older man announced. "We will go with you," he looked at Will.
No one noticed that Ev had silently inched his way into the shadows. There was a problem. The one dude that had the gun, was one of the men that had recruited him and had claimed to be from the FBI.
bad_karma00
Underachiever
Goodness grief. There's more twists in this story of theirs than in a still to still country road!
223shootersc
Veteran Member
very curious, very curious, thanks, as always very entertaining
Thank you so much, Pac! Bet Ev is feeling stupid now...if he were a real person, that is. I forget that he's not. 
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#76
"Ben, come here," Ev hissed as the men in cuffs walked out the door. "Hurry!" he motioned with his hands to the kitchen door.
"Ben, Will needs to know that the dude with the pistol was one of the guys that recruited me to work for the FBI. I don't want them to see me, go run out there and bring Will back in so I can tell him."
Ben thought fast and gave a low long whistle. "Will," he called out, "there is a urgent message for you, before you leave. I'll keep these gentlemen company while you get the info."
Will lagged back and let Ben catch up to him. "Watch them carefully, I don't trust them any further than I could throw the lot of them at once." Ben drew his Glock and walked a short distance behind the trio, opening the car door and motioning them to get in the back seat.
"You, the brother. Did you know about the woman...the Princess...Stephana, and how are you related? Do you have the same mother? the same father.?" Klaus Linderman asked with barely disguised curiosity.
"Same Father; can't be sure about our mothers," Ben replied calmly. "How do I know you are a Linderman? and what about you Moan men? How did you expect to qualify Clora as a Princess, what if you have made a mistake? What if she isn't the woman you think she is?"
The men were silent, then the Moan nephew said something in a very low voice. Stannous shook his head and then said in a louder voice, "the Princess will have a birthmark," he said with a sigh. "And you, the brother, do you have a birthmark?"
Ben refused to be drawn to the bait, he simply smiled and stood silent guard at the car.
Ev quickly appraised Will of the connection he had with the supposed Linderman, and Will nodded. "Know all about him," the lawman replied as he rubbed his nose. "Same man that spoke to me. Good to know Ev, thanks man. Hey, stick around a bit, don't go rushing off to Evergreen till I get back." He stuck his hand out and the two long time friends shook hands.
Ben smiled at Will, as the lawman strode towards the old sheriff's car and his prisoners. Will walked around to the driver's door and leaned over car roof as he gave an OK sign to Ben. Ben nodded and gave Will a thumbs up.
As soon as the car powered down the driveway, Cheryl, Christy, Lainey and kids came rushing up the drive. "What happened?" The ladies gasped breathlessly. "Was anybody hurt, we heard a gunshot."
Fears were calmed, and they all went to the main house so Lainey could see Clora was alright. The ladies hugged, and went instinctively to the kitchen for tea. The youngsters went to the school room to play and the men paced up and down in the living room as they talked.
Clora laughed as she explained the 'princess' part and brushed off the smart aleck mock curtsy's her friends gave her. "Mark and I are supposed to be mortal enemies, a fight to the death type of thing. Instead we have a secret to share," she was grinning broadly.
Mark came in with the men just in time to hear the secret mentioned. "Now that we are all here, we have an announcement," he smiled with love at his blushing wife. "We are expecting," he gave Clora a bow, and she returned with a curtsy.
There were exclamations of joy and happiness all around, as congratulations and hugs were shared. "What a day," Clora said with a sniff. "I'm so glad those men are gone, and good riddance." she rested gently against Mark's still tender ribs with his arm snugly around her shoulders.
"Come for supper tonight everyone," Lainey invited. "I have a huge pan of ribs in the oven and we can celebrate properly. This is a really big day for the clan."
"I have baked beans in the oven," Clora offered; "and I have Spanish rice and cabbage salad," Cheryl spoke up. "We have an announcement also." That stopped the noise in the house. "Oh no, " she gasped. "We are not expecting," she said with a genuine laugh. "Sorry."
Arrangements were made to meet at Ben's at 5:30 for supper. It wasn't until they were on the way out the door that Lainey remembered Lilly. "I'll stop by and invite her," Lainey offered, as she shifted Anne on her hip and wrapped them both in the warm wool shawl.
Milo crawled up in his chair, and looked hopefully at the cupboard where the cookies were kept. "Auntie Clora," his lower lip quivered and his big eyes beseeched her, "I'm starving for a cookie. Really, Really hungry and it's hours until supper."
"Milo, you have the best idea," Mark gently patted the youngster on the back. "Clora, let's have cookies, I'm hungry also."
Faced with overwhelming odds, Clora laughed and went to the cupboard for the cookie plate. "You men are impossible to keep full." and gathered up glasses for milk. Casting a longing glance at the coffee pot, she took it to the sink for a well deserved scrubbing and rest.
"This is going to be hard," Clora said willfully as she poured herself a half glass of milk.
"Ah Buttercup, you're an amazing woman and can handle all challenges," Mark spoke lovingly, "You know I speak the truth."
"Perhaps, but a morning without coffee, almost too awful to consider. I guess we needed a good reason for your job," Clora changed topics but was smiling. Milo gave up trying to stay with the conversation and eased his hand over to the cookie plate and slowly drew the biggest cookie back to rest beside his glass. Taking a bite, he stamped his ownership on the cookie in case either one of the grownups happened to notice he was on his second treat.
"My turn to milk tonight," Mark announced, "Milo, do you want to go with me to the barn?"
"Ben, come here," Ev hissed as the men in cuffs walked out the door. "Hurry!" he motioned with his hands to the kitchen door.
"Ben, Will needs to know that the dude with the pistol was one of the guys that recruited me to work for the FBI. I don't want them to see me, go run out there and bring Will back in so I can tell him."
Ben thought fast and gave a low long whistle. "Will," he called out, "there is a urgent message for you, before you leave. I'll keep these gentlemen company while you get the info."
Will lagged back and let Ben catch up to him. "Watch them carefully, I don't trust them any further than I could throw the lot of them at once." Ben drew his Glock and walked a short distance behind the trio, opening the car door and motioning them to get in the back seat.
"You, the brother. Did you know about the woman...the Princess...Stephana, and how are you related? Do you have the same mother? the same father.?" Klaus Linderman asked with barely disguised curiosity.
"Same Father; can't be sure about our mothers," Ben replied calmly. "How do I know you are a Linderman? and what about you Moan men? How did you expect to qualify Clora as a Princess, what if you have made a mistake? What if she isn't the woman you think she is?"
The men were silent, then the Moan nephew said something in a very low voice. Stannous shook his head and then said in a louder voice, "the Princess will have a birthmark," he said with a sigh. "And you, the brother, do you have a birthmark?"
Ben refused to be drawn to the bait, he simply smiled and stood silent guard at the car.
Ev quickly appraised Will of the connection he had with the supposed Linderman, and Will nodded. "Know all about him," the lawman replied as he rubbed his nose. "Same man that spoke to me. Good to know Ev, thanks man. Hey, stick around a bit, don't go rushing off to Evergreen till I get back." He stuck his hand out and the two long time friends shook hands.
Ben smiled at Will, as the lawman strode towards the old sheriff's car and his prisoners. Will walked around to the driver's door and leaned over car roof as he gave an OK sign to Ben. Ben nodded and gave Will a thumbs up.
As soon as the car powered down the driveway, Cheryl, Christy, Lainey and kids came rushing up the drive. "What happened?" The ladies gasped breathlessly. "Was anybody hurt, we heard a gunshot."
Fears were calmed, and they all went to the main house so Lainey could see Clora was alright. The ladies hugged, and went instinctively to the kitchen for tea. The youngsters went to the school room to play and the men paced up and down in the living room as they talked.
Clora laughed as she explained the 'princess' part and brushed off the smart aleck mock curtsy's her friends gave her. "Mark and I are supposed to be mortal enemies, a fight to the death type of thing. Instead we have a secret to share," she was grinning broadly.
Mark came in with the men just in time to hear the secret mentioned. "Now that we are all here, we have an announcement," he smiled with love at his blushing wife. "We are expecting," he gave Clora a bow, and she returned with a curtsy.
There were exclamations of joy and happiness all around, as congratulations and hugs were shared. "What a day," Clora said with a sniff. "I'm so glad those men are gone, and good riddance." she rested gently against Mark's still tender ribs with his arm snugly around her shoulders.
"Come for supper tonight everyone," Lainey invited. "I have a huge pan of ribs in the oven and we can celebrate properly. This is a really big day for the clan."
"I have baked beans in the oven," Clora offered; "and I have Spanish rice and cabbage salad," Cheryl spoke up. "We have an announcement also." That stopped the noise in the house. "Oh no, " she gasped. "We are not expecting," she said with a genuine laugh. "Sorry."
Arrangements were made to meet at Ben's at 5:30 for supper. It wasn't until they were on the way out the door that Lainey remembered Lilly. "I'll stop by and invite her," Lainey offered, as she shifted Anne on her hip and wrapped them both in the warm wool shawl.
Milo crawled up in his chair, and looked hopefully at the cupboard where the cookies were kept. "Auntie Clora," his lower lip quivered and his big eyes beseeched her, "I'm starving for a cookie. Really, Really hungry and it's hours until supper."
"Milo, you have the best idea," Mark gently patted the youngster on the back. "Clora, let's have cookies, I'm hungry also."
Faced with overwhelming odds, Clora laughed and went to the cupboard for the cookie plate. "You men are impossible to keep full." and gathered up glasses for milk. Casting a longing glance at the coffee pot, she took it to the sink for a well deserved scrubbing and rest.
"This is going to be hard," Clora said willfully as she poured herself a half glass of milk.
"Ah Buttercup, you're an amazing woman and can handle all challenges," Mark spoke lovingly, "You know I speak the truth."
"Perhaps, but a morning without coffee, almost too awful to consider. I guess we needed a good reason for your job," Clora changed topics but was smiling. Milo gave up trying to stay with the conversation and eased his hand over to the cookie plate and slowly drew the biggest cookie back to rest beside his glass. Taking a bite, he stamped his ownership on the cookie in case either one of the grownups happened to notice he was on his second treat.
"My turn to milk tonight," Mark announced, "Milo, do you want to go with me to the barn?"
bad_karma00
Underachiever
Oh what a tangled web! Pac, you're amazing.
Bad
Bad
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#77
The barn was cold, and Milo chased his breath in the cold air. Mama dog and Otis were on duty, listening for problems and errant bad deed doers that might happen to be passing by. Bossie was overjoyed to see Mark on account he always slipped her more grain than the others. Mark was rewarded with a brimming pailful, and Bossie and he were both happy.
Mark tipped a generous amount of milk into the dog's pan, and Milo got a tongue washed face as Otis raced by to be first at the bowl. Mama dog got up and for the first time let Milo walk beside her as she went over to supervise Otis's eating manners.
"Milo," Mark said approvingly, "Mama must really like you, look how close she is to you."
Milo was trying to walk beside the huge dog and at the same time hug her neck. "I love her," his muffled voice could barely be heard over the loud slurping Otis was doing. When he was in danger of tipping over and losing his balance, Mama stopped still until Milo could get his feet back under him. "She's a good dog," Milo said with all the 4 year old emotion he could muster.
"I wish they could come in the house," Milo whispered, "I don't want them to be cold."
"Touch Mama dog's hair," Mark encouraged, "see how thick and warm it is? She and Otis would be way too warm in the house, very uncomfortable unless we shaved off all their hair, and then they couldn't do their job out here. They are working animals, Milo; they have a job that is very important here on the farm. It's really fun to have animals that are friends, but we can't interfere with their jobs." Mark cautioned.
Something about Milo's behavior jiggled at Mark's memory, "promise me," he looked sternly at the pint sized con man, "that you will leave them in the barn."
The wheels were turning so fast in Milo's mind there was almost smoke coming out his ears. Mark let him turn all the various scenes over and sideways and finally the youngster couldn't come up with a good reason not to mind. "OK," was all he said.
"Let's go, it's almost time to go to Uncle Ben's for supper," Mark held the door open and Milo ran out. Screeching to a immediate halt, Milo gasp out, "Look at that." The dark world was totally silent with a jillion stars glittering in the cold. A display that was a testament to the magnificence of God's world.
"Pretty," Milo said in awe. "What are those Uncle Mark? can I get one?"
"Stars, and each one of them is a place like this world," Mark gave an abbreviated explanation to the child."
"Wow, hurry Uncle M, I'm really hungry." Milo urged Mark to walk faster.
The milk strained and put away, Clora gathered up the bean pot and a still hot pan of pumpkin custard. Milo was entrusted with a jar of sweetened cream wrapped in a towel to carry to the gathering.
The small house was filling with red cheeked, friends and family hungry enough to start chewing on the chair legs. The roasting ribs were fragrant and enticing the hungry eaters. Grace was quick, and all hands dug in.
Mama dog barked when Will and Wayne drove in and it didn't take them long to join the festivities. The grownup's listened intently to Will's recounting of the hospital visit with the ersatz Prime Minister.
"That's a loose group of misguided fools with an abundance of hatred and crazy notions;" Will told his tale as he carefully made sure he got his share of the ribs. He was having a bit of trouble with Wayne who seemed as hungry as the lawman, and appeared like he was hogging the best pieces.
Both reached for an especially meaty rib at the same time, forks clashing together. "Guy's I have another panful," Lainey interrupted, and Ben laughed. "She's been so worried that there wouldn't be enough food, she fixed extra." Lainey playfully swatted his shoulder with the pot holder. "Hush," she whispered.
What food was left before the two men started their eating marathon disappeared in a flash. The beans were gone as was the coleslaw, only a couple of scoops of custard remained and Ev was staring hard at them. "I don't think you fellas tasted one bit of what you ate, good grief...you didn't even chew," he complained.
"Now that's the pot calling the kettle black," Wayne shot back quickly. "I've seen you eat, your no lightweight in that department."
"True," Ev conceded slowly "but I have a reputation to uphold. You guy's are acting like you haven't been fed in a week. And..." he paused dramatically, "this is probably as good a time as any to announce that I'm going to make a winter trek into Evergreen. I have a curiosity about what remains, and a terrible itch to scratch about how the land fared in the fire."
"Neat," Wayne said around a mouthful. "I've got comp time coming, maybe I'll go with you; want company?"
"Sure," Ev used the diversion to scoop another spoonful of custard on his plate. Will looked forlorn, left out and and definitely short on his quota of custard. "That's a trip for sure," Will remarked wistfully, looking like he wanted to go trekking more than anything in the world.
"Want to come along?" Ev asked the lawman out of pity for the hang dog look he was affecting so well.
"You know, I believe I would like to go, thanks for the invite." Will looked up and smiled for the first time in ages. The hard careworn lines in his face smoothed out and he looked much younger. "I'll need a day to get a pack together and find some snowshoes if you guy's can hold out that long?"
"Hey, what about you Ben and Mark? You guy's want to go?"
Mark shook his head no, "The new job starts Monday," he said regretfully, "Can't do it."
Ben shook his head no, "can't leave the farm unguarded, far too much risk. I'll go next time," he stated firmly, much to Lainey's relief.
"We do have an announcement," Ben and Lainey smiled at each other. "We are expecting." It was another hugging and congratulatory moment. "As we are," bragged Mark and set the happy clamor all over again.
"Wow, a guy goes to work and look what happens behind his back," Wayne joked as he shook hands with the men and blew kisses at the ladies. That caused more laughter, and good fellowship.
"OK guy's, get out of the kitchen, unless it's your turn to do the dishes," Lainey stood up and placed her hands on her back and stretched. The men looked at each other and Will said, "why not," and they shooed the ladies out of the room.
It was a unexpected treat, made more precious by the rarity. The ladies moved themselves and the children into the living room and shared a gossipy hour relaxing. Cheryl was busy explaining her Diabetes diagnosis and what she would have change in her diet. "Our other part of a special announcement is, we are going to get a computer update. Christy is going to challenge the SAT's and we are going for a round the clock exam cram. We don't have a lot of time, but I know she can do it."
"I'm sure glad you found what was giving you problems," Clora remarked. "I sure was concerned the way you were starting to look." That led into the newly expected babies and when they would become members of the family.
"How come Lilly wouldn't come tonight," Christy asked.
All the ladies looked to Lainey. "Just said no thank you, her girls were ill, and then closed the door," Lainey reported sadly. "She's not much inclined to participate with us, and I don't want to force her." There were nods all around, as they gave her the privacy she craved.
When Clora, Mark and Milo got back up to the main house, Clora faced the awful realization that she had stripped their beds and had forgotten to do the wash in all of the day's excitement. Mark took one look at her horrified expression and announced Milo was going to play camping for the night. Two ladder back chairs with a draped blanket and the boy rolled in his comforter completed the illusion.
"Cool, Uncle Mark, I've always wanted to go camping." the boy looked with adoring eyes at the huge man. "Thank you. I'll go right to sleep," he promised.
Mark put him to bed and steered Clora down the hall to their room. "It's not the end of the world," he soothed Clora, "maybe we should go camping also?" he said with a wicked grin, and turned out the lights.
The barn was cold, and Milo chased his breath in the cold air. Mama dog and Otis were on duty, listening for problems and errant bad deed doers that might happen to be passing by. Bossie was overjoyed to see Mark on account he always slipped her more grain than the others. Mark was rewarded with a brimming pailful, and Bossie and he were both happy.
Mark tipped a generous amount of milk into the dog's pan, and Milo got a tongue washed face as Otis raced by to be first at the bowl. Mama dog got up and for the first time let Milo walk beside her as she went over to supervise Otis's eating manners.
"Milo," Mark said approvingly, "Mama must really like you, look how close she is to you."
Milo was trying to walk beside the huge dog and at the same time hug her neck. "I love her," his muffled voice could barely be heard over the loud slurping Otis was doing. When he was in danger of tipping over and losing his balance, Mama stopped still until Milo could get his feet back under him. "She's a good dog," Milo said with all the 4 year old emotion he could muster.
"I wish they could come in the house," Milo whispered, "I don't want them to be cold."
"Touch Mama dog's hair," Mark encouraged, "see how thick and warm it is? She and Otis would be way too warm in the house, very uncomfortable unless we shaved off all their hair, and then they couldn't do their job out here. They are working animals, Milo; they have a job that is very important here on the farm. It's really fun to have animals that are friends, but we can't interfere with their jobs." Mark cautioned.
Something about Milo's behavior jiggled at Mark's memory, "promise me," he looked sternly at the pint sized con man, "that you will leave them in the barn."
The wheels were turning so fast in Milo's mind there was almost smoke coming out his ears. Mark let him turn all the various scenes over and sideways and finally the youngster couldn't come up with a good reason not to mind. "OK," was all he said.
"Let's go, it's almost time to go to Uncle Ben's for supper," Mark held the door open and Milo ran out. Screeching to a immediate halt, Milo gasp out, "Look at that." The dark world was totally silent with a jillion stars glittering in the cold. A display that was a testament to the magnificence of God's world.
"Pretty," Milo said in awe. "What are those Uncle Mark? can I get one?"
"Stars, and each one of them is a place like this world," Mark gave an abbreviated explanation to the child."
"Wow, hurry Uncle M, I'm really hungry." Milo urged Mark to walk faster.
The milk strained and put away, Clora gathered up the bean pot and a still hot pan of pumpkin custard. Milo was entrusted with a jar of sweetened cream wrapped in a towel to carry to the gathering.
The small house was filling with red cheeked, friends and family hungry enough to start chewing on the chair legs. The roasting ribs were fragrant and enticing the hungry eaters. Grace was quick, and all hands dug in.
Mama dog barked when Will and Wayne drove in and it didn't take them long to join the festivities. The grownup's listened intently to Will's recounting of the hospital visit with the ersatz Prime Minister.
"That's a loose group of misguided fools with an abundance of hatred and crazy notions;" Will told his tale as he carefully made sure he got his share of the ribs. He was having a bit of trouble with Wayne who seemed as hungry as the lawman, and appeared like he was hogging the best pieces.
Both reached for an especially meaty rib at the same time, forks clashing together. "Guy's I have another panful," Lainey interrupted, and Ben laughed. "She's been so worried that there wouldn't be enough food, she fixed extra." Lainey playfully swatted his shoulder with the pot holder. "Hush," she whispered.
What food was left before the two men started their eating marathon disappeared in a flash. The beans were gone as was the coleslaw, only a couple of scoops of custard remained and Ev was staring hard at them. "I don't think you fellas tasted one bit of what you ate, good grief...you didn't even chew," he complained.
"Now that's the pot calling the kettle black," Wayne shot back quickly. "I've seen you eat, your no lightweight in that department."
"True," Ev conceded slowly "but I have a reputation to uphold. You guy's are acting like you haven't been fed in a week. And..." he paused dramatically, "this is probably as good a time as any to announce that I'm going to make a winter trek into Evergreen. I have a curiosity about what remains, and a terrible itch to scratch about how the land fared in the fire."
"Neat," Wayne said around a mouthful. "I've got comp time coming, maybe I'll go with you; want company?"
"Sure," Ev used the diversion to scoop another spoonful of custard on his plate. Will looked forlorn, left out and and definitely short on his quota of custard. "That's a trip for sure," Will remarked wistfully, looking like he wanted to go trekking more than anything in the world.
"Want to come along?" Ev asked the lawman out of pity for the hang dog look he was affecting so well.
"You know, I believe I would like to go, thanks for the invite." Will looked up and smiled for the first time in ages. The hard careworn lines in his face smoothed out and he looked much younger. "I'll need a day to get a pack together and find some snowshoes if you guy's can hold out that long?"
"Hey, what about you Ben and Mark? You guy's want to go?"
Mark shook his head no, "The new job starts Monday," he said regretfully, "Can't do it."
Ben shook his head no, "can't leave the farm unguarded, far too much risk. I'll go next time," he stated firmly, much to Lainey's relief.
"We do have an announcement," Ben and Lainey smiled at each other. "We are expecting." It was another hugging and congratulatory moment. "As we are," bragged Mark and set the happy clamor all over again.
"Wow, a guy goes to work and look what happens behind his back," Wayne joked as he shook hands with the men and blew kisses at the ladies. That caused more laughter, and good fellowship.
"OK guy's, get out of the kitchen, unless it's your turn to do the dishes," Lainey stood up and placed her hands on her back and stretched. The men looked at each other and Will said, "why not," and they shooed the ladies out of the room.
It was a unexpected treat, made more precious by the rarity. The ladies moved themselves and the children into the living room and shared a gossipy hour relaxing. Cheryl was busy explaining her Diabetes diagnosis and what she would have change in her diet. "Our other part of a special announcement is, we are going to get a computer update. Christy is going to challenge the SAT's and we are going for a round the clock exam cram. We don't have a lot of time, but I know she can do it."
"I'm sure glad you found what was giving you problems," Clora remarked. "I sure was concerned the way you were starting to look." That led into the newly expected babies and when they would become members of the family.
"How come Lilly wouldn't come tonight," Christy asked.
All the ladies looked to Lainey. "Just said no thank you, her girls were ill, and then closed the door," Lainey reported sadly. "She's not much inclined to participate with us, and I don't want to force her." There were nods all around, as they gave her the privacy she craved.
When Clora, Mark and Milo got back up to the main house, Clora faced the awful realization that she had stripped their beds and had forgotten to do the wash in all of the day's excitement. Mark took one look at her horrified expression and announced Milo was going to play camping for the night. Two ladder back chairs with a draped blanket and the boy rolled in his comforter completed the illusion.
"Cool, Uncle Mark, I've always wanted to go camping." the boy looked with adoring eyes at the huge man. "Thank you. I'll go right to sleep," he promised.
Mark put him to bed and steered Clora down the hall to their room. "It's not the end of the world," he soothed Clora, "maybe we should go camping also?" he said with a wicked grin, and turned out the lights.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#78
"Auntie Clora, I got some heavy thinking to do. Can I go to my room after breakfast?" Milo stated with a heavy sigh.
Astonished Clora turned from the stove to stare at Milo, the pancake turner in her hand with a steaming cake loaded on the blade.
Mark stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth and had to cough toward his shoulder, to cover up his amusement.
"Ahh, if you wash your hands and brush your teeth, sure go ahead," Clora managed to say with out spoiling the seriousness of the boy's request. Arching one eye brow toward Mark, Clora silently asked if he knew what that was all about, and was rewarded with a shrug.
Milo was very quiet during breakfast, eating with his head down and never looking up until he had finished his egg and flapjack. He took his plate and hot chocolate mug to the sink without being asked, and went quietly out of the room.
"What was that all about?" Clora asked quietly, "has Milo said anything about a problem to you?"
"Nope, nothing that I can recall. Only excitement around here is the guy's taking off for Evergreen; but Milo wouldn't have any ties to that. We've talked about me going to work and he seems OK with that, he knows the dogs have to stay outside, frankly...I can't think of anything that would weigh so heavy on a youngster. He'll let us know when he's ready, I can promise you that. He's just not ready to talk about it, and if he is taking time to think about a problem, that's pretty darn smart for a four year old." Mark finished his meal and coffee.
"Tell me my beautiful bride, do you have any things that need to be done around here? You do have a 'honey do' list of items that need attention. don't you?" Mark laughed as Clora paused to shake her finger at him. "You can have me today and tomorrow, and then I'm only good for the weekends." he grinned as she poured more coffee for him and bent over to inhale a rush of the black gold smell.
"Of course," she said sweetly, fishing around in her bottomless pocket for a many folded piece of paper. In pencil there were bits and pieces of words that was Clora's shorthand for problems she had discovered.
"Honey, pick two of the worst aggravations on here and tell me about them." Mark urged, turning the the paper over and confused by the scribblings.
"OK, you asked," Clora went to the sink and leaned against it. "The porch rail and the basement door. Both are driving me crazy cause they get in my way and don't work." Clora peeked out under her lashes to see what his reaction would be. No one had ever offered to fix an item for her and Clora was frankly surprised and really didn't know how to react.
"Sure," Mark replied, "how about the basement door first. We can probably do this a couple of ways, we can use a door from one of the unused rooms upstairs, or we can buy a security door from a home improvement store. What's your pleasure?"
"You know," Clora said thoughtfully, "I think I would like a security door. The tunnel is still half open, and I don't feel very secure with all that has been going on. My tolerance level is changing now that we have a child on the way, I hope you can understand," she fought to keep her voice from trembling.
"Auntie Clora, I got some heavy thinking to do. Can I go to my room after breakfast?" Milo stated with a heavy sigh.
Astonished Clora turned from the stove to stare at Milo, the pancake turner in her hand with a steaming cake loaded on the blade.
Mark stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth and had to cough toward his shoulder, to cover up his amusement.
"Ahh, if you wash your hands and brush your teeth, sure go ahead," Clora managed to say with out spoiling the seriousness of the boy's request. Arching one eye brow toward Mark, Clora silently asked if he knew what that was all about, and was rewarded with a shrug.
Milo was very quiet during breakfast, eating with his head down and never looking up until he had finished his egg and flapjack. He took his plate and hot chocolate mug to the sink without being asked, and went quietly out of the room.
"What was that all about?" Clora asked quietly, "has Milo said anything about a problem to you?"
"Nope, nothing that I can recall. Only excitement around here is the guy's taking off for Evergreen; but Milo wouldn't have any ties to that. We've talked about me going to work and he seems OK with that, he knows the dogs have to stay outside, frankly...I can't think of anything that would weigh so heavy on a youngster. He'll let us know when he's ready, I can promise you that. He's just not ready to talk about it, and if he is taking time to think about a problem, that's pretty darn smart for a four year old." Mark finished his meal and coffee.
"Tell me my beautiful bride, do you have any things that need to be done around here? You do have a 'honey do' list of items that need attention. don't you?" Mark laughed as Clora paused to shake her finger at him. "You can have me today and tomorrow, and then I'm only good for the weekends." he grinned as she poured more coffee for him and bent over to inhale a rush of the black gold smell.
"Of course," she said sweetly, fishing around in her bottomless pocket for a many folded piece of paper. In pencil there were bits and pieces of words that was Clora's shorthand for problems she had discovered.
"Honey, pick two of the worst aggravations on here and tell me about them." Mark urged, turning the the paper over and confused by the scribblings.
"OK, you asked," Clora went to the sink and leaned against it. "The porch rail and the basement door. Both are driving me crazy cause they get in my way and don't work." Clora peeked out under her lashes to see what his reaction would be. No one had ever offered to fix an item for her and Clora was frankly surprised and really didn't know how to react.
"Sure," Mark replied, "how about the basement door first. We can probably do this a couple of ways, we can use a door from one of the unused rooms upstairs, or we can buy a security door from a home improvement store. What's your pleasure?"
"You know," Clora said thoughtfully, "I think I would like a security door. The tunnel is still half open, and I don't feel very secure with all that has been going on. My tolerance level is changing now that we have a child on the way, I hope you can understand," she fought to keep her voice from trembling.