The Family Unrelated V 3

By Dan Lee

Five stories in this single volume, exciting and poignant. Action, Romance, Adventure all encompassed in this ca. 1955-60 volume, including: "The Trickster", tribulations of graduating seniors; business success, music, performing arts, love lost and love found in "Music Maestro"; the excitement following two investigative reporters in "Quiet One"; a murderous chase in the forest, building a community theater musical success in "Limelight"; and, a challenged young man brings a community together through music in "Cup O' Music". Romance, action, adventure, danger in five easy-to-read short stories. Each is also available separately as an ebook. Search for Danny Boy Stories.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dan Lee
• Release date: Jun 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476086729

Dan Lee

Devon C. “Dan” Lee is a native of Wabash, Indiana. He grew up during the 1940’s World War 2 era, and the 1950’s. He usually writes about young adults (18-30) drawing on his own experiences, and those of others around him. Although fictional, much of what he writes has real situations he has lived as the foundation. Mr. Lee is a retired former journalist and businessman. All “Danny Boy Stories” are available in E-Book formats and in Paperback. His novels are: "120 Letters", and "The Bamboo Murders" (part of the Cain and Able Mystery Series). "The Family Unrelated", and "Defining Heroes", are novella collections of five and four complete stories.. Search for “Danny Boy Stories”. Web site: http://www.dannyboystories.com

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

The Family Unrelated

FICTION

Inspired by Real Events

There are five novellas in this single volume. Each story is interrelated to the next, as young adults travel into adulthood , experiencing Adventures, Romance, Crime, Murder, Business Success, and the Theatre. Each Novella stands alone. Action, Romance, Adventure all encompassed in this ca. 1955-60 volume.

The Trickster--Tribulations of graduating seniors;

Music Maestro--Business success, music, performing arts, love lost and love found.

Quiet One--Follow two investigative reporters uncovering municipal fraud.

Limelight--A murderous chase in the forest; building a successful business; and a community theater musical success in Limelight;

Cup O’ Music--A challenged young man brings a community together through music.

Search for Danny Boy Stories

E-books and paperback.

http://www.dannyboystories.com

The Trickster

PART ONE

Fiction

CHAPTER 1

Danny always had the feeling someday Todd would be judged very insane; meanwhile he and his friends will simply consider Trickster their certifiable friend.

Theodore Robert Trick, Todd, Double T, The Trickster, as his friends refer to him, was a six-foot, four-inch, lanky, nearly 18-year-old, who does not like sports and loves physics and the sciences. Todd’s favorite pastime was his complicated pranks. Todd, Danny says, was always in Halloween mode.

It was an unusually warm mid-April in the Mid-Western town of Sprite, a small farming community on the plains, and a two-hour drive west to the Mississippi River. Danny and Todd were driving around in Danny’s newly purchased, second-hand, 1953 Ford two-door. The two spent this Saturday morning installing rear-lowering blocks on the car, and removing the hood ornaments for a bull-nose look. Now, they were driving aimlessly so the paint on the hood will dry more quickly, not an entirely wise decision, given the bug population in spring.

I’ve got three major deals I need to do this summer, Todd said, looking over at Danny. The biggest I’ve ever done. Do you think I can count on you guys to help? he asked.

Hey, you know we’re always in with you Bud, long as it’s just for fun, Danny replied with a grin. Just keep in mind the old Class of ’55 will be graduating in two weeks, and it’s going to be busy, what with family and all.

Sprite High School was the keystone of the Sprite School District, a small district encompassing the farming Town of Sprite, and surrounding area for about two miles in every direction. There were nearly 500 high school students, 96 in the 1955 graduating class, in the community of nearly 13,000 citizens.

Two elementary schools and a sixth through eighth grade middle school make up the balance of the small district. Most Sprite residents fully expect the district forced into consolidation with two nearby county districts, a move most felt would destroy community life in a town centered largely on school activities.

This time, Danny was cautious of Todd’s deals or pranks. Todd had a tendency to get far too complicated and push the envelope between legal and illegal. Todd’s pranks were never as simple as an old-time pushing over an outhouse, or putting petroleum jelly on public restroom toilet seats. His adventures now require plenty of advanced planning, timing, and, usually, equipment of some kind.

The teenagers remember when six of them opened the high school doors, carried an old Crosley HotShot car up to the second floor, spun doughnuts on the hallway floors, carrying the small car outside again, driving quickly away. They borrowed the car 100-miles away to assure a clandestine operation. The prank, copied from somewhere else, was brazenly in the middle of a school weeknight. Smoke from the burning rubber still hung in the air when the custodial staff arrived at 6 A.M. That was how close the six came to discovery.

Usually, there was an element of misdemeanor illegality to Todd’s pranks, causing Danny and others to go slow and easy. Danny does not want to spend the rest of his life behind steel bars because of a just-for-fun prank that was feloniously out of control, or causing serious injury to an unsuspecting citizen.

Danny knows, this time, Todd was likely thinking of going out with a bang before reporting for military duty he knew was likely coming in the draft. Todd had no intention of going on to a college or university, even though his parents could easily afford the finest school. Todd anticipated volunteering for the draft as soon as he graduated from high school and was 18-years-of-age.

* * *

CrystalCreme Dairy operated a sandwich shop in a part of the office in front of its milk production bottling business. Upon installation of a chrome, colorfully decorated and lighted Wurlitzer Juke Box, Crystal’s became ‘the’ hangout spot for the local high school crowd.

Crystal’s sandwich counter, including two dozen chrome pedestal stools, runs the length of the sandwich room. There was a walk-through in the center for servers to access a line of 10 booths along the entire front against large floor to ceiling windows. The entrance was a double door, including wooden screen doors, located at one end of the front wall. Usually, only the right door was open. The corner door arrangement makes it possible to see who was coming and going, from anywhere in the shop with very little sightline restriction. The place was packed with high school teenagers. Sprite High School was less than two blocks to the south, an easy walk for students.

Because the booths line windows along the front, these seats were considered the prime spots to sit. As soon as a booth empties, it fills with people who were standing or sitting at the counter. Moving from seat to seat was often referred to by teenage patrons as ‘musical chairs’, except with more pushing and shoving. Two people talking quietly in a booth have no chance. Others quickly take up the empty portion of both bench seats in a booth, regardless of objections.

Crystal’s was THE place to find young friends in the small town. Today was no different. As Danny and Todd walk in, they immediately see their closest senior class friends, Jack, Carlie, Poochy, and Oreo in a favored back booth. Hinton, a part of the group, sits facing the booth on a counter stool, his usual position.

* * *

Jack Carson, an average-build 5-11 high school senior, was the musician in the group. Piano lessons since a small child enable him, as Danny says, to play piano as if he had 20 fingers. While his lessons concentrated on classics, Jack had no difficulty with music his friends love: rhythm and blues, rock, and, Jack’s specialty, boogie-woogie. He expects at any time to receive confirmation of a full-ride scholarship to Julliard in New York City.

Mariana Poochy Sizemore was Jack’s girl friend. They have dated since their freshman year, and everyone expects them to marry one day. Poochy was a very attractive young woman, forced to endure ribbing from her classmates as living up to her last name, because of her very full breasts. She and Jack were nearly inseparable and were seen together everywhere, including at the piano keyboard, although Poochy was not as talented.

Carl Carlie Carmichael was the little guy of the group. Carlie was usually very quiet, thoughtful, likely the friend closest to each of the others, the one who could be called first in confidence. He was a slightly above average student, hoping for acceptance into a state college.

Orinda Oreo Jamison was Carlie’s new best friend. A six feet tall girl, a bit too thin, Oreo was Carlie’s opposite, vivacious, outspoken, and forever pulling back her very long red hair. She was a full three inches taller than Carlie. A perfect 4.0 student, Oreo almost never lets go of Carlie’s hand, and clearly sees herself as more than just his best friend.

Hinton Chase was the odd fellow in the mix of friends who get along together so well. Hinton, a six-foot 18-year-old, sees everything as a challenge to be defeated…chess, card games, ping-pong, even distance running. He strives to be the best at anything presented to him. A loner, Hinton does not really hang with any group, but when he was around, he can be found with Danny, Jack or Carlie.

Julia Marsha Oldfield was a strikingly attractive young woman with very dark, shoulder-length hair, a nearly straight A student. She was the girl most frequently seen with Danny. They shared locker space their Freshman year and coincidentally have had lockers side by side for the past three years. Danny feels he was not interested in a serious girl friend just now. Nevertheless, Julia was Danny’s occasional date, including for the Junior and Senior proms. When Danny needs someone to talk with, he seeks Julia.

CHAPTER 2

Where’s Julia? Poochy asked, as Danny and Todd approach the booth. The two each squeeze one leg onto what was left of the ends of opposite bench seats.

Sure you got enough room there? Jack complains.

She’s home studying, Danny replied, as he walked over to select music at the jukebox. What’s this thing, ‘Heartbreak Hotel’, he asks no one in particular, plunking a quarter into the machine for five plays.

The strains of Al Hibbler’s Unchained Melody soon fill Crystal’s as Danny returns to the booth, his friends now huddled and speaking in hushed tones. It was clear they want no one to hear the conversation. Hinton was off the stool on his knees at the table, so he will be close to the hushed conversation.

A voice from another booth up front yells, Hey, Hinton, whatcha doing on your knees?

What’s up? Danny asks.

Hey, hold it down, Todd admonishes in a whisper. We’re talking about a project.

Todd reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his trademark leather newsboy’s cap, carefully placing it on his head at just the right angle. He never wears the cap except when working on one of his pranks. The cap was Danny’s cue something serious was about to come down the pike.

Ah, geez, here we go again, Danny complains to Todd’s impatient glare.

Todd continues to explain his project to the group: Block a major roadway and redirect the nighttime traffic.

Oh, that’s just nuts, Todd. People have blocked traffic before as a Halloween prank. Besides, Sprite’s locals have a new patrol car, it gets around town pretty quickly, Danny continued, clearly disagreeing with the plans.

Look, fraidy cat, sit down and listen, Todd demanded of Danny. This is going to be the neatest. Ha, I can see the local yokels scurrying around now.

Let’s hear it all, Hinton urged. Hinton never missed involvement in any of Todd’s escapades.

Okay, look, Todd continued. First of all, it won’t happen here, that will be really dumb. So, we’ll do it in Somerset.

Somerset? Carlie exclaimed. That’s an hour away, Todd.

Man, that’s the beauty of it, and they have a morning newspaper that’ll give it a lot of press, too. I’ve got this all figured out…cool, cool, cool, Todd declared.

Hey, someone in a front booth yelled, You with the cash, put some in the jukebox!

Todd went on to explain he found an old wood Road Closed sign a county left in a ditch for the past two winters. He said he finally picked it up and had it in one of his grandfather’s old barns on the farm.

All it needs is a new foot to hold one side up, and it’s good to go, Todd tells the group. We pick up a few of those round oil pots they use at road construction sites, and it’s all we need. It’s so simple, man.

* * *

Todd Trick was not poor, by any stretch. His grandfather, Theodore William Trick, began as a 20-acre farmer and amassed a fortune in commodities, trading corn, wheat, just about everything agricultural. In the process, he built the farm into more than 1,000 tilled acres with plenty of outbuildings, many now seldom used. Most acres in the farm leased for others to sharecrop.

Robert Allen Trick, Todd’s father, picked up where his father began, but concentrates on oil and gasoline futures, a field of trade Todd dislikes because he thought it would have a major impact on the future national economy. The family home was an imposing structure screaming opulence, occupying land a quarter of a mile from the main Trick farm. Danny was one of few friends Todd will bring to the home, and he was always welcomed.

Riley Marie Trick, Todd’s sister, loves the opulent living money can bring. She spends hours with makeup and hair fashion, to aid her average appearance. Riley makes a conscious effort to wear a new outfit to school as often as she can, never wearing blue jeans. She delights in belittling Todd, or anyone else for that matter, and seems to take pains to do so. She was an average student, a sophomore, two grades behind Todd.

Caroline Trick, Todd’s mother, was a plain, devout woman who had been on a farm her entire lifetime. In fact, when she was in junior high school, her family’s farm was one of those gobbled up by Todd’s grandfather. Born and raised in Sprite, she knows nearly everyone in the community and makes it a point to speak with everyone at church on Sunday. She refuses anything other than a weekly house cleaning service and cooks every meal for the family.

* * *

So, we whip into Somerset in the middle of the night, wait for a line of semis to come through town on 27 (U.S. Highway 27) and direct the lot of them down the paved fishing road that leads to the dry creek bed below, Todd continued to explain his plan. Man they’ll have everyone awake for hours before they get ‘em either turned around or backed up the hill, he said with glee.

I dunno, Todd, Carlie said. That’s a ton to do in a really short time. We could end up getting caught.

Ah, it’ll be fun, Jack said. I take my ’32, but it’s kinda loud, so I can’t take it all the way to the turn, he said. Jack’s pride and joy was a chopped 1932 Plymouth coupe he spent two summers turning into a real hot rod roadster, complete with leather seats, V-8, dual pipes, and three coats of high luster navy blue lacquer. Poochy, his primary polishing person, loves being seen riding around in the low-slung car.

Well, we can take mine, too, Carlie said finally. It’s pretty quiet and has four doors. Carlie’s ride was a 1941 all original Plymouth sedan. He added seat covers and had it painted a two-tone forest green with cream top, all he could afford. The old car, though, runs like a top and was entirely dependable. Six or seven can easily jam into the car when the group wants to go somewhere together.

Oh, come on, somebody, play the juke box, someone at the counter whined.

Spend your own money, dope, another shouted.

That’s it then, Todd exclaimed. Us guys will all meet again next Saturday afternoon to design our logistics and timing. I want to go over to Somerset and check out the layout, too, but I’ll do that alone. We don’t want folks to notice anything.

* * *

Danny sat on the Oldfield’s wooden swing suspended from the porch ceiling on two chains, staring at the porch railing, gazing occasionally at his car sitting at the curb in front of the house. Julia had her 45-player nearby with the McGuire Sisters’ hit, Sincerely, playing.

A usually talkative young man, Danny Scott was quiet and moody this evening. He said little to Julia, who was quietly sitting next to him, her hands folded in her lap, a usual position for her. Julia knew Danny would come over this evening, so she put on his favorite pale blue skirt with tiny ribbons sprinkled around the bottom. Her 3/4 sleeved maize blouse completed an outfit emphasizing her dark hair and eyes. As Danny said many times, Julia was real easy to look at.

All you have to do is talk to me, you know. I’m a good listener, Danny, Julia said after many minutes. It isn’t as if you’re getting ready to recite Mark Anthony in Senior English, she said quietly.

Danny simply turned to her, gazed into her eyes for a moment and returned to staring at the porch railing. It was now almost 10 o’clock on Saturday night.

Abruptly, Julia stopped the swing and turned to Danny. She took his right hand in her left and covered it with her right. Julia looked softly and deeply into his eyes, forcing him to look back into hers.

I want you to listen to me, Danny Boy, she said softly. I’m right here, Danny, and, do you understand me …I will always be right here for you …always.

Danny was astonished. His mouth became suddenly dry as if cotton. He tried to speak, but was unable. The lump in his throat grew ever larger, his heart beginning to thump hard in his chest. Danny felt his face flush, his blood rushing to his head.

Here, Danny thought, was this lovely girl, his long-time friend, committing herself to him, for what he guessed was forever. No one Danny had ever known ever committed to him at all…not family, not friends, no one he could ever remember. He was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, altogether tongue-tied.

Danny could not take his eyes from Julia’s eyes. He was mesmerized, overcome, and somehow very warmed and comforted by her gaze. He felt his blood rushing, his heart beating faster.

Saying not a word, Danny took his right hand away from Julia’s and reached for his left. Slowly, carefully, never taking his eyes from Julia’s, he removed his class ring and put it into her left hand. Julia closed her hand around the ring, clasped her right hand over the left and brought both hands up to her chest.

Dumbfounded and a bit embarrassed, Danny quickly stood, grasped Julia’s face in both hands, kissed her full on the mouth, and turned to leave. He stopped on the second porch step and wheeled to look again at Julia. Her hands still clutched to her chest, she was standing now. Danny could not comprehend this lovely young woman had so passionately and honestly committed herself to his future.

Julia, I don’t really understand, but, somehow …I know now you’ve always been the one, he said quietly.

As Danny turned to leave, he saw John Oldfield, Julia’s father, standing just inside, a few feet from the front screen door. The older man looked hard at Danny and gave an approving nod.

Danny walked to his car, stood by the driver door a moment, raised his hands skyward in an evangelical gesture, looked upward, and shouted, Yes!

John Oldfield smiled and closed the front door quietly.

CHAPTER 3

Danny opened his eyes with a start. It was morning, I’m late, he thought. The nightstand clock was 10:15. He jumped from his bed, adjusting his pajama pants as he rushed into the living room.

You are just a bit late to be taking me to church this morning, mister, his mother declared from behind the Sunday newspaper.

Ah, geez, Mom, I’m really sorry…I don’t think I slept much at all, Danny replied.

No matter, now, you need to get moving. You have something very important to do before Noon, she said, lowering the newspaper revealing her robe over her Sunday dress. Get yourself scrubbed up and dressed properly, right now …time’s wasting.

Suzanna Scott was a single, working mother. Her husband, Mark, was lost in the World War Two Pacific campaign. A staunch Christian woman, she had become a bit overweight as she advances in years, but had not missed a day’s work in 10-years as a bookkeeper for a local farm store. She and her small, simple, post war home, were always the picture of neatness. The home, a three-bedroom modular, sits at the end of a cul-de-sac in a new subdivision of homes built primarily for returning war veterans.

Suzanna’s daily ritual was to be up and dressed before her son. She made it a point to hug and kiss Danny before they parted each morning, a carry-over, she says, of not doing that enough with Mark before she lost him to war.

When Danny entered the living room, his mother had not moved.

Okay, I’m ready, he said.

Good, replied his mother, Now you march right over to the church before the end of the service. You need to make sure you catch John and Mary Oldfield before they leave. You owe them an apology.

What? Danny exclaimed.

Honey, I wasn’t born yesterday, his mother continued. When I checked in on you this morning, I noticed your class ring missing from the top of the dresser where you usually put it at night. I knew you saw Julia last night, too. Danny, there are responsibilities you assumed when you gave that young woman your ring. Taking Julia to church properly, and regularly, is just one of them.

Mrs. Scott stood and faced her son squarely, Danny, Julia is a keeper. Always treat her with respect, and it will come back to you ten-fold, she said firmly. Now scoot, and don’t do anything dumb, she called after him as he banged the front screen door in his rush.

* * *

As he walked quietly into the back of the church, Danny combed the front of his flattop and smoothed the sides of his hair. Rev. Michael Barlow was walking up the aisle, directly toward Danny, where the pastor will give the benediction at the rear of the First Baptist Church. He motioned for Danny to take a seat in a back pew. The modest church sanctuary was about three-quarters full. Danny looked from side to side and front to back, but could not see the Scott’s from where he was sitting in back.

When the service concluded, Danny was the first person Rev. Barlow approached, How are you Dan, he asked as he extended his hand. Let’s go out front in the sun and you can help greet folks.

I’m really sorry…, Danny began.

No need, son, you are here, and God knows it, the pastor said as parishioners began filing out of the church. It was the first time Danny ever stood at the entrance greeting parishioners. Somehow, he was surprised so many men and women knew his name and asked about his mother. The experience, Danny thought, was a revelation; he felt embarrassed he had not before paid attention to his friends and neighbors at church.

It seemed like hours to the impatient young man before the Oldfield’s came out of the church vestibule into the sunlight. Immediately, Danny approached John Oldfield with his hand extended. He could see Julia out of the corner of his eye.

Gosh, I’m really sorry I’m late, sir, I really had intended to be up early, but I guess I had a lot on my mind and overslept, Danny explained.

Oh, I think I understand completely, son, Oldfield said looking over at Julia who had her eyes cast downward. Gesturing, Oldfield said, I see this thing on Julia’s finger, all taped up to fit. That must be a part of it. John Oldfield, smiling, looking directly at Danny, My only problem with you, young man, is it took you so long, John Oldfield looked at Danny, then Julia, and finally his wife. He threw his head back and laughed loudly.

Oldfield, grinning ear-to-ear, obviously pleased with how he had handled the situation, turned to his wife, Tell me, Mary Oldfield, do you think we can whip up some lunch for these two teenagers. Frankly, it looks like this boy could use it. He’s white as a sheet. Again, the elder Oldfield threw back his head and laughed heartily.

Julia took Danny’s hand as the two walked to Danny’s car parked in the last row in the lot. Her parents drove in the family vehicle. Danny could not help feeling very proud to be escorting this very attractive young woman dressed for church tastefully in a navy dress and fashionable white gloves, a wide white satin ribbon bow with tails held her long hair neatly down her back.

As Julia seated herself on the passenger side, her hands neatly folded in her lap, and before Danny closed the car door, he leaned inside and softly kissed her.

* * *

Danny stepped from the bright late Sunday afternoon sunlight into the musty smelling, dimly lit, usually unused, Trick Farm Barn #4. Under a bright overhead light in one corner of the building, Danny saw Todd’s trademark newsboy’s cap under the hood of an old pickup. Judging by the year, Danny assumed Todd’s grandfather at one time, owned the old vehicle.

Where are the other guys, Danny called as his shoes crunched the old hay and gravel covering the dirt floor.

Not here yet, you’re the first, came the gruff reply. Get your butt over here and give me a hand with this old distributor, Todd yelled.

You want some help, you’re not going to get it acting like Hitler, Danny retorted. What the Sam Hill is wrong with you?

Ah, man, this old truck’s been fighting back at me all day long…first, all six plugs were froze tight, then half the distributor leads were corroded so bad I had to make new… make ‘em, mind you… cut to length, pinch on the clips…it was a mess. I been doin’ this since six this morning, Dan, Todd explained, wiping his hands on a shop cloth.

So, does it run? Danny asked.

We’re about to find out, Todd said.

Todd shorted the starter from the engine compartment. The engine cranked a few times. He tried again. On the third try, the engine fired. All six cylinders were firing, but not smoothly. Todd shut the engine down.

It’ll work pretty good, soon as I set the points and time it out, Todd said. Wanna see the stuff? he asked.

Under a tarp in the bed of the truck is the old Road Closed sign Todd described earlier. In a large wooden box next to it were