A Desperate Journey

By D.H.. Clark

a desperate journey is based on a true story of a womans' struggles through life. It's an eye-opening story about the use of drugs and the dealing of drugs. The story shows that a life involving drugs and any type of crime is very dangerous.This story is aimed at helping those who may be in similar situations,I also hope to give those in better circumstance a greater apprreciation for their life

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.H.. Clark
• Release date: Feb 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9780991853618

D.H.. Clark

I am 76 years young and reside in the Kootenys, B.C.,Canada. Throughout my years I have worked in many different jobs from salesclerk, transit bus driver, taxibusiness, bookkeeping,and also as a waitress. Throughout my life I made many bad choices and decided to write my biography hoping to let people know that sometimes life isn't all it's made out to be. I strongly believe in the paranormal and am very superstious. I did my bio under a pen name of D.H.Clark and my real name is Jacqueline Greeno.

Book preview

A DESPERATE JOURNEY

D.H.Clark

.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 D.H. Clark

License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

About the Author

Chapter One

My story begins in the year 1937 in the small hamlet of Travers; that was the year I was born. I had two siblings, one brother, Dale, nine months older than me and one sister, Doreen, 9 years older than I. I was closer to my brother but only in age, he was mother's favorite but he would be my arch nemesis in life. My mother considered me as a mistake, and she never let me forget that she never wanted me. My Dad was a kind gentle person who was always there for me throughout his lifetime, but he would always buckle to the way mother said things would be. She wore the pants in the family. Travers consisted of a general store, the train station, a post office, a one room school and a community hall. The train came through town once a week and that's when the people could buy fresh meat. The only other meat was obtained from hunting deer and elk. Then it was preserved in jars. The same went for any beef or pork that was butchered. Dad had a cow, which provided us with fresh milk daily and butter that my Mother churned. There was no entertainment in the community, so people made their own, which seemed to consist of drinking their homemade brew along with running around on their spouses. Dad had a weekly poker game at the house and served his homemade beer. The game would last into the wee hours of the morning. At a very young age my brother was fascinated with fire. My parents always knew that where there was smoke-there was Dale, whether it was under a bed with a catalogue or the neighbor's garage. Once he started a prairie fire that threatened the whole community. If my parents went to visit someone in the evening leaving my sister to babysit, as soon as they were gone she would grab me and barricade us in the bedroom. Dale would station himself outside the door with the flatirons and butcher knives lined up to throw at us just in case we opened the door. When he would hear the arrival of our parents he would sit in the armchair and turn the tears on, telling them he thought they had left him for good. Dale was the only boy on my mother's side of the family and she was so proud that she had a son and she scoffed at her sister because she only had three daughters. There had always been a lot of rivalry between the two sisters. The war had started and Dad wanted to move us to a better area, but the grain companies had frozen any transfers, so he decided to join the army. He travelled to Calgary and enlisted. He was to report to the army base for his training. They gave him time to relocate his family and get them settled. My Dad and Uncle Jonas built a two room house on my Uncle's property. Dad had to report for duty so my mother and uncle finished the house and got us moved in. I remember mother on the roof shingling it.

Life with Dad gone in the army was devastating for me. I felt he was the only one that loved me. My Uncle would put us kids to work out in the field stoking the hay or cleaning out the root cellar, while he sat in the house sipping tea. Mother had a mirror situated on the wall, so that when we kids were in the bedroom she could see exactly what we were doing. When I was sent to bed, I would sit and make faces through the wall at my mother. Subsequently she would come in and give me a spanking, I could never figure out how she knew what I was doing; I thought for sure she must be a witch. One day, I realized she was aware of what I was doing because of the mirror on the wall. Between my brother and my uncle, those childhood days were not happy ones. My brother was always mean to me, mainly, I suppose, because he resented having a younger sister following him around. Dale would wait until we were out of sight of anyone and then he would beat me, kicking and punching and pinching. If I went crying to my Mother, she would spank me for being a tattle tale. I was not the sneaky type and would take a swing at Dale whenever I thought I could even the score. However, I always ended up being the one that got the whipping. Then one day my big chance came to get even. They were painting the school and we were all playing on the scaffolding. That's when I decided to push Dale off of the scaffold. He landed straddling the boot cleaning stand, and was out of commission for awhile, they carried him home and I received the beating of my life. It was worth it. I had had enough of the torture at my brother's hands all my young life.

My grandparents lived at High River, where my Grandfather was employed at the airport. My Father had finished his army training and when he came home on leave; my parents decided we would move to High River to be close to my grand parents. Mom and dad rented the main floor of a house, the owner of the house resided on the second and third floors. The house was directly in front of the exhibition grounds so us kids would go over and watch all the cowboys with their horses. That was the one place I loved to be, watching them rave about their horses or riding a bucking bronco. We had a long walk to school every day, rain or shine. We walked the mile and a half, never complaining, it wouldn't have done us any good anyway. A lot of the times in the cold winter we would arrive home to find Mom had gone out, she always locked the door when she went anywhere, and none of us where allowed keys, so we would sit on the doorstep until she got home. One particular day, Dale, his friend, Daniel and I got tired of waiting and decided to walk the half mile to the river to check out the ice. When we got to the river it was like a winter wonderland with the frost on the trees and the ground covered with snow. Dale spotted a hole in the ice and decided to see how deep the water was. He found a long tree branch and walked to the edge of the hole. The weight of him at the edge of the hole broke the ice and he tumbled into the river. We watched, stunned for a minute as he disappeared under the ice and then came floundering back up in the hole. Daniel yelled that he was going for help. I knew that nobody would get there in time to rescue him. I found a very long tree branch and cautiously crawled as close as I dared. I pushed the branch across the hole, hoping that Dale would reappear and grab the branch and as luck had it, that was what happened. I was yelling, Grab it, Grab it. When his hands touched the branch and he grabbed a hold of it, he held on tight, and I backed up bit by bit, pulling him out of the water. When Daniel and his older brother caught up with us we were headed home. Dale was blue and his teeth were chattering from the cold, his clothes were frozen. We hurried as fast as we could to get him home and warmed up. When we arrived home, mom was still not there. Figuring that I had no choice, I broke the pantry window and crawled through it into the house. I unlocked the door and pulled by frozen brother inside. He immediately got undressed, I had run a hot bath for him and made us all some hot cocoa. When mom arrived home I got a spanking for breaking the window. Oh woe was me.

For extra money my Mother did the laundry for Mr. Ashton. He lived in a one room shack at the back of our residence, also built by our landlord, Mr. Olson. I balked whenever I was sent to deliver Mr. Ashton's mail or laundry, as the smell would make me gag. He would yell, Come in, and when you entered the room he would be laying on his wrought iron bed wearing nothing but his long johns. Perched on the end of his bed would be his five chickens that he kept in his room with him. Mr. Ashton seemed to have no friends or relatives, except for the Pastor who would visit him once a week. The Pastor never tried to get him to move into a senior's home or into a healthier environment. Mr. Ashton had lived up north and mined gold with Mr. Olson; they had been friends for years. When Mr. Ashton died, his estate was bequeathed to the Pastor. The old miser had been a millionaire.

My Grandparents lived upstairs in a suite above a leather shop. My Grandfather was a very quiet, gentle English man. My Grandmother was old English and very prim and proper, and not at all an affectionate person. I spent a lot of time after school visiting with my grandfather. Mom also spent a lot of time at their place and when I took a look at my Mother and Grandmother you could see the resemblance, two very cold women. Both of them had very dark, brown eyes and my grandmother always reminded me of a gypsy. My grandfather had been a cabinet maker in England and could take a piece of wood and make it into the most beautiful piece of furniture. One year for my birthday, he made me a doll house with all the furniture inside carved by hand. That was the most beautiful gift anyone had ever given me.

My father got discharged from the army and returned home, he had been moved around from one army base to another and we hadn't seen too much of him. He applied for his old position as a grain buyer and was hired back on. He got a job at a grain elevator just outside of High River. If it wasn't a school day I would ride my bicycle out and spend the day with him. He would take me up on the lift to the top of the grain elevator where you could see for miles around. I would daydream about where I would like to be, what I might like to do. The only trouble was, when I was through with my daydreaming I would have to crawl down the ladder to the main area, shaking with fright all the way. I was terrified that I would fall. It was much easier going up than it was going down.

After three years at Azure Siding, dad requested a transfer and was given one. We moved to a busy farming area, just south of Falkirk. Us kids had to travel to school every day on the school bus, and I was constantly getting into trouble with one child or another. My mother fixed this situation by getting the job of driving the school bus. That meant that we got on the bus early in the morning and travelled the one hour trip to school every day, but my fighting days came to an end.

At the age thirteen I started babysitting, and instead of the parents driving me home in the evening, I would sleep over and go to school from their house in the morning. My mother drove the school bus and picked these children up, so I would see her in the morning. It got to the point where I was seldom at home. Rita Thompson, whom I was babysitting for, would ask if I could go straight to their place. Rita and her husband Sam were very nice to me and I was always reliable and trusted with the care of their children. They paid me a dollar a night. I was home so little, finally my mother said I had to be home at least on Sunday nights. It bothered her that people were asking questions about whether or not I lived at home anymore. My parents had been giving Dale and I five dollars a week allowance, but since I was making money babysitting, Mom said I would no longer receive an allowance from them. I took my money and bought a pair of white figure skates, but before I had a chance to wear them they disappeared. Dale had taken them and given them to his girlfriend. I was hurt; there was just no winning for me in my household. I was glad not to be spending much time at home, because whatever I wanted to do it was always out of the question My babysitting for Rita and Sam stopped one day when I was helping Sam clean out the cistern, they always got their money's worth out of me. Nobody was around and Sam made some very inappropriate advances. I stormed off from where we were working and went into the house. Rita asked if we had finished but I just mumbled something about being tired and the work was too hard. Then I told her I was going to phone my dad to come and get me. She volunteered to drive me home. She suspected what had happened as on the way home she mentioned that she hoped Sam hadn't done anything that he shouldn't have. I wondered why she would even think that, but I said, No, it was just that I really didn't feel well. When dad and I were alone I told him what had happened and he said as long as nothing happened not to worry. However I was not to babysit there anymore. My dad told me, Don't mention this to your mother, she'll somehow make you feel like you were the one in the wrong When I graduated from grade nine, my mother informed me that I should possibly consider looking for a job as they could not afford to educate both Dale and me. After all she said, Girls just get married and boys need to have a good education. I did not return to school the next semester but Dale did and he was in grade eleven. He dropped out of school at the end of the year. I never understood why, I was furious with the whole situation, but such was life. I found a job as a waitress, making the large sum of eighteen dollars a week. My parents had decided I was too young to be on my own so they made sure I got to work and back home. They were super nice and only took half of my wages for room-and-board.

Chapter Two

On Saturday nights, a girlfriend and I would tell everyone we were going to the show but instead would go to the dance hall. We started going every week, and that's where I met Tom. He was twenty one and a truck driver. Tom tried to get back into town for the Saturday night dances, and rarely missed any of them. Tom came from a family that was really messed up, his father had died and his mother had married again. She married Antonio who was nineteen at the time. Five years older than her oldest son. Antonio had thought he had gotten Elizabeth pregnant and so he had married her. She never was pregnant, but her deceit got her what she wanted.

Because of Elizabeth's actions, her children paid the price. Tom had scars on his back, where Antonio had beaten him with a bull whip. He used to run away and stay with his grandmother. She was always there for him. One day, in a drunken stupor, Antonio, had tied Caroline, Tom's older sister, down on the table and raped her. When the kids called the police and they arrested Antonio, Elizabeth went down and bailed him out. They were one messed up family. Tom was looking for love and acceptance, the same as I was and in each other we found it. At the age of sixteen I became pregnant. Those days if you became pregnant out of wedlock you were labeled as a tramp and a whore. I guess I fit that bill. We set up playing house together, we couldn't get married because Tom already had a wife, but he didn't know where she was. Tom's family accepted me and things were good. That April, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. I took over running a concession down in the river bottom next to a used car lot. The baby would sleep in her buggy all day while I made up hot dogs and sandwiches. I was making good money and when the service station across the road came up for rent, I had saved up enough money to rent it.

The service station had two rooms at the back which we took up residence in. I ran that place day and night; sleeping in my jeans so when somebody ran over the bell in the front I could jump up and get them whatever they needed. Tom was still driving truck for Trevor Beck, hauling loads to the west coast and returning with airplane parts which always were delivered to Edmonton. Then one day I got a call that he was in the hospital. He had flipped his trailer in the ditch and had suffered a concussion. My dad volunteered to watch the service station and my mother would drive me to see Tom. It was a Sunday afternoon and as we drove, we remarked on how windy it was. We visited with Tom and he asked if we would go up to the truck and get his gear out of it, he was worried that his belongings would be stolen. Mom and I drove to the location that we thought was the place, but when we arrived we found that Trevor had moved the truck to the other side of the road. The truck was pointed in the direction of the highway. I got out of the car and went to the truck, and hurriedly got Tom's belongings. Rushing back to the car I suggested we move from where we were parked as the wind was so strong, and I just plain felt nervous over the situation.

We had lunch, and then returned to see Tom. When we got to the hospital the nurses where all rushing around, there had been a car accident. One little girl was dead and her aunt and uncle who she was travelling with, were in serious condition. The little girl's parents were in a car directly behind them. They had put the man in Tom's room, but then they suddenly moved Tom to another room. We wondered about why the transfer of rooms but didn't have to wait long to find out because one of the nurses told us that it was the truck Tom had been driving that had rolled onto the highway, and stalled in the middle, which the people had hit, not even seeing it. The police had been to the hospital and talked to Tom, they informed him that there was going to be an inquest and he would be subpoenaed, and they would notify him. The following Wednesday, Tom was discharged and I drove up to bring him home. It was nice having him home for a while, but not having the extra income would be a hardship. Trevor came over to see how Tom was doing and told him he was now out of a job, as he had claimed bankruptcy and the banks had repossessed his trucks. I felt sorry for Trevor as they had just found out that his wife, Beverly was pregnant again. Tom went job hunting and got hired at Super-Value Grocers, but his heart wasn't in it though because he loved driving. In his spare time he would go and visit all the truck companies. He came home one night and informed me he could get a contract with Davis Transport hauling trucks back from Windsor; all we needed was the financing. The shock of my life came when my folks said they wouldn't mind being partners with us, and with their help we would be able to finance a truck. With that news and the acceptance of the offer, Tom and dad started to look for a truck. We wouldn't need a trailer as Robert Davis supplied the trailers. It took them two weeks and we had a truck on the road and Tom made his first trip to Windsor. The trucking business was going good and I was holding my own at the service station, both of my parents had suddenly become very supportive and helpful. Tom had always said he would never live to see twenty five; we always bickered over that statement. I thought that he felt that way because his dad had died when he was twenty five.

Tom's Aunt Edna was going to have her tonsils removed, but for some reason she was very nervous over the surgery. Edna cleaned her house, and put everything in order, she canned all the vegetables that she had grown, and told her three small children she was going away and they should be very good for daddy and do as he says. Edna's husband Dave took the week off from work. Edna went in the hospital, the doctor had told her she had nothing to worry about, that it was a simple procedure and she'd be home the next day. She had the surgery and everything seemed fine but that night she went to sleep and did not wake up. Tom came home and took the week off from work, the funeral arrangements had been made, and all the family gathered to give Dave and the children all the support that they could. All of the Davis truck drivers had shown up for the funeral, and at the reception after the service Tom was having a conversation with a couple of his coworkers. One of the drivers commented that deaths usually came in threes. Tom made the statement that he was going to be the next one to go. I told him not to talk so foolish. On our way home that night he was still talking about death. When we arrived home, we sat in the car talking, he had me upset and crying over his comments. He proceeded to tell me what funeral arrangements he wanted. The Davis boys would be pall bearers and he did not want his daughter to have a step father. The next day was my birthday, and we received a phone call from my mother, not to wish me a happy birthday, but to tell us that my grandmother had passed away. Tom was supposed to leave on a trip, but decided to do some repairs to the truck and stay home for grandma's funeral. The next couple of days he worked at the shop on the truck changing the two saddle gas tanks.

We went to the funeral and afterwards Tom told me that he thought it was a very nice service and he hoped that his would be as nice. On Friday morning, Tom left to put new mirrors on the truck, he was leaving for Windsor that day and one of his buddies was going with him to pick up a new truck that he had bought. At noon, Tom phoned me and asked me to go and pick him up for lunch, I suggested he grab lunch up town, but then he told me this would be our last meal together. Naturally after that comment I did go and get him. We had lunch together and I drove him back to the shop. We said our goodbyes and he asked me to kiss him goodbye when they brought him back. About three o'clock the next morning Robert Davis phoned and asked me if I was alone, when I told him I was, he asked me where my father was. I told him dad was at his place and asked if there was anything I could help him with. He told me he needed to talk to my father. About an hour after that weird call from Robert, my father showed up. I was just putting gas in a car and he told me he would be in the back and needed to talk to me. Dad looked upset and I wondered what was going on. I finished up and went into my living quarters, where dad informed me that Tom had been killed just outside of Wolf Point, early that morning. They had stopped to change the gas over from one saddle tank to another, when Jeff had yelled at him that there was a car coming pretty fast down the road. Tom was standing by the front of the truck when the car hit the rear of the semi, pushing it the full length of the truck. When Jeff yelled to Tom, there was no reply. He found him lying under the rear wheels of the truck. At that time of the morning, there was little traffic on the road and those days the truckers never had cell phones, just the CBs, with which they could communicate with other truckers. There were five people in the mangled car and Tom under the rear wheels. Jeff had to walk to the nearest town for help. The Sheriff at Wolf Point contacted us and asked if we would like them to release the necessary papers to Jeff so he could continue on to Windsor and we said yes. That Sunday evening Tom's body was brought back. Tom's mother, stepfather and I went to the funeral home to make arrangements. I requested to see him, and the funeral director said he did not think I should. I told him I needed to, but Antonio said he would go and see him and if he thought I shouldn't, that would be the end of the conversation. Antonio came back and told me I should remember him the way he was. To this day I have always felt guilty that I never kissed him goodbye. Tom's funeral was held in the town that he grew up in. All his relatives showed up and what a mixed assortment of personalities they were. We had a closed casket and his uncles proceeded to try to open the casket to make sure it was indeed Tom inside it. After everyone was settled down the funeral proceeded without any more nonsense.

I went on with life, running the service station. Robert Davis visited me and informed me that he would hire a driver for the truck and take care of the operation of the truck. I would receive a monthly check after the expenses were taken care of. It sounded like I had nothing to worry about. I would wake up through the night, so sure that Tom had just pulled into the yard with the truck. When I went to the window, I would realize it was just a dream and he was not coming home. The nightmares had just started when Robert Davis started sending me statements that I owed him money. The truck seemed to be constantly breaking down, a new motor had supposedly been installed, and there was apparently theft of several