…But They Call Me Sonny

By Pamela A. Clark

<!-- P {text-indent: 30pt;} --> Pamela lost her dad when she was three. Later she begins a search to find a grandfather presented by such a loss. Armed with a mission to find him, the facts start to skew. Clues twist and turn; and then entwine to such a degree she bumps into her dad's story. and learns the only way to find the man fate chose to leave behind is that first she must go through her dad. Both in the search, both on the same path, but forty years apart, do the gods lead them to the one they want so desperately to find.

Fourteen and growing up in the streets, Sonny cant wait to leave; he lives for the day he can put all the shame behind him. But with the hard times that have hit the country and the fact all the kids depend on himwhere would he go. Its not as if he has a direction. All he has in this world is his brother Paul. and even though Paul has him by a few years, the big guy depends on him too.

Naw, labeled bastards since as far back as they can rememberits just he and Paul against the rest of them. Forced to be the responsible one, he will bide his time and deal with the chaos and turmoil as it comes. That is until he finds out the secret kept; one that ignites a fire so strong that without thought leads him on a journey that will take him to all but two of the forty-eight states in the Union.

Join him on his mission. Share his thoughts. Share his dreams. Life now his school, meet those that help shape the man he grows up to be. Travel with him through a period of time when millions of Americans are on the same path. A period of history now known as the Great Depression, they're all looking for a better lifeall that is except one. Sonny isnt looking for a better lifehe is looking for his life. but they call me Sonny is a book based on a real life. Does he have a dad? If so, where is he? Why would the man take off and leave him alone with Susie? Can he fill the void that aches in his heart? and is it true, was he robbed of the life he was born to live?

Who are these strangers standing over your grave;
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp... not knowing your story and you not knowing theirs.
We are the ones that know where you lie;
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp... yet we are the ones that wont let you die.
Maybe this story will comfort our hearts;
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp... to bring us closer and not so far apart.
We always wondered, we were always sad;
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp... and all we could do is call you Dad.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jan 31, 2011
• ISBN: 9781426951336

Pamela A. Clark

Pamela A. Clark attended Iowa State University where she majored in Construction Engineering. Working highway/road construction and in the water supply industry in Iowa for sixteen years, she moved with her family to Arizona where she managed a design engineering firm for two years. From there she spent two years working on-site as a Project Engineer. Projects included highway/road construction and an emergency water spillway. She is a past president of Women in Construction. Spending twenty years in construction, Pamela switched directions. She spent twelve years working the Front-end Fraud Division for a major banking firm. Nominated Woman of the Year by Soroptimist International where she held membership, she also is a past member of the American Business Woman Association (ABWA), American Society of Personnel Association (ASPA), and the International Association of Financial Crimes Investigators, (IAFCI). Having served with the Job Service Improvement Program, (JSIP) Pamela was the liaison between Iowa and Washington D.C. Now retired, she lives in Arizona with her husband and family.

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Contents

Author’s Note

Prologue

Part One

The Secret

The Mission

Jesup

Manchester

The Blizzard

The Plan

The Penny Auction

Delaware County Courthouse

The Judge

Sonny’s History

The Introduction

Dave’s letter

Clark Cooper

The Stranger

The Game

Arizona

California

Finding Herman

The Train

Part Two

New Mexico

Season of dust

Kansas

The Bust

Little William

The Whirlpool

The Golden Door

Texas

The Brothers

Part Three

Going home

On my way to the inside

On the inside

Now and forever

Getting even

Alaska

The Shortcut

Going like sixty

The Showdown

The Finale

For

Marcella,

Raleigh, Vincent, Lawrence & Raymond.

Love: Pamela A.

Author’s Note

Raised in an Irish environment one thing is very clear, you know who you are, and you know from where you came… . and if you listened at all, you knew each and every relative you ever had. If not, all you need to do is turn to the Good Book. Our Grandma Mary, God rest her soul, grew up with six sisters and two brothers early in the 1900’s. They all spun stories that will entertain for years. Such as the one with the persistent caller; last seen head’n down the road slap’n his hat against his trousers… his pants on fire. You see, the man was love struck with our Grandma Mary, but she didn’t feel the same. When her sisters found her hiding from the guy,—well this set their plan in motion. Now—as the story goes; the last time the guy came a’call’n, the girls kept him sitting on the porch. Waited so long he fell asleep; that’s when they stuck a lit stick of field dynamite under his chair.

No problem explaining where the caller went, their problem was explaining the bonfire; the one built in the middle of summer to burn the chair. Not only were these girls clever in their personal lives, they were creative when it came to their family lineage. They put together a numbering system that would put our computers to shame. Myself, I can proudly tell you my number on my mom’s family tree; fifth generation American on grandma’s side and fourth generation on my grandpa’s; all right down to the branch, twig and offshoot… . and my number on the tree is six hundred thirty-eight. That’s right, we have them all; all the way back to where the Virgin Mary appears at the pond with the three fish… . and all the way back to Dublin, Ireland; back to where the peasant girl spent the night and stole the deed to the Kelly farm.

Now on my Grandpa Ed’s line; well —his line dates all the way back to County Sligo, Ireland. This line of our family blesses us with stories from George Custer, to Jesse James… . and our so called involvement in the conspiracy to assassinate President Lincoln; all of which caused a name change.

The point is; —we know them. We know them by their manner of speech, and their body expressions… . and above all, we know their idiosyncrasies. Right or wrong, good or bad, truth or fiction you immortalize them. You place them so high they become saints. Who cares how long it has been, it doesn’t matter; —it’s as if they are with us right now… . and if by some strange twist of fate you should run into one, well —not to worry, after all you already know who they are… . and can probably tell them a few things they didn’t know about themselves.

But… what if by chance they missed one; and what if in the greater scheme of life fate left one behind? So in living up to our heritage we set out to find the one that was lost. You see, never knowing our grandfather on our dad’s side we began a mission that lasted more than forty years… . and in the search to find our grandfather the clues started to twist and turn. The facts intertwined; entwined to such a degree we found we could not find him without first going through his son. What you could say is along the way our quest skewed; we bumped into our dad… . but they called him Sonny.

We cannot forget his story; —we cannot forget that he lived.

Prologue

Who are these strangers standing over your grave;

 . . . not knowing your story and you not knowing theirs.

We are the ones that know where you lie;

 . . . yet we are the ones that won’t let you die.

Maybe this story will comfort our hearts;

 . . . to bring us closer and not so far apart.

We always wondered, we were always sad;

. . . and all we could do is call you Dad.

Part One

The Secret

[1]

W hat’s the big deal, noth’n different. It’s been this way ever since I can remember… heck, since any of us can remember… . and it seems to be get’n worse. The girls are get’n older; now they’re buy’n into all this ol’ crap. Not just a bunch of drunks’ hang’n around this stupid place; they got their friends sponge’n off us too. Thoughts take their turn and rush through as if to match his steps; back and forth sets the pace as if trapped. Then he stops… . and smashes his fist against the side of the house. He needs to ease the pressure; a way to flee the bedlam brought on by the guy that just kicked him out to the streets.

A quick turn to walk off the pain, Sonny tries to figure out just what went down. To defend his position he pulls back to what led up to this mess. All I wanted was money to buy food for the little boys. . . . and has to wonder; how bad can that be? Just cause I told ‘em they need to give up the booze; that they should spend what money they have to feed the litter of kids they keep pop’n out. But no; guess alcohol is more important. Just wish they’d quit drink’n, that’s all. Yeah right, he smirks with sarcasm; we’d all starve to death before that happens. Then stops and props his leg on a wobbly rail… . and heaves a sigh and thinks; now what?

Arm resting on his knee he stares at the street from the wide porch that wraps around this once proud but worn down old house. Thoughts drift as his foot swings on the old rusty trellis where he props his leg. He pulls in and eyes the once black wrought iron frame where vines used to grow, but time and abuse has long since turned to flakes of gray and rust… . and calls to mind how nice the place looked when they first moved here. How proud he felt to live in a place where all the windows opened and closed. Clear glass ones with screens meant to let in fresh air; the ones he now has to keep shut so the noise doesn’t wake the neighborhood. Rooms with doors that shut; the doors he learned to lock to keep out the unwanted that roam at night. A home he could bring a friend; a place to show he lived as well as they did. Gone is the carpet of green grass that backed up to the river; a stream with a cove of trees where he kept a line in at all times… . and his dreams of the big catch. The line long since gone, long since lost in a yard full of clumps of dirt and patches of weeds. Worn paths lead to bare bushes once used as an escape; a safe place to hide from all the chaos and turmoil that takes place behind the walls of this whitewashed wood and red bricked house. With all the drunks and all the kids free to run in and out, the place just went to the dogs… . and not one of them cared. Would’ve take’n more than me to keep it up; only got two hands. With steady eyes, he scans the street… . and can’t help but envy how well kept the other houses look compared to this ol’ dump.

A sudden chill causes him to shiver as the wind whips in frenzy. He wonders if it’s the cold front predicted to drift in from the northwest; a front that will produce what promises to be an early dark gray overcast sky. A light haze of mist hangs in the air as an occasional gust of wind whips from the corner to penetrate his face… . and as his temper cools, feels the need to seek a protective barrier.

Should’ve done what Paul did, he rambles; should’ve gotten out of this ol’ pigpen too, but where was I supposed to go. Heck, at least he has a girlfriend to hang out with.

To seek shelter and duck out of the wind he figures his best shot is the front steps. Scarred steps filled with names; hearts meant to dream of better places… . and all placed by silly girls with rocks of chalk. Huddled next to the wall on the concrete steps dark shadows reflect off the trees… . and cast harsh twisted images that seem to threaten. As the night shadows creep close, he snugs his coat, shuts his eyes, and tries to brave the elements that want to invade his secluded refuge. Still dazed, his head roars from the fight he just had with Rex… . and can still feel the hurt in the hand. Upset and sore, he moves on to confused; the life he lives is gone… . and wants to know; where do I go from here; what am I supposed to do?

Dang it’s cold out here, takes on a priority as the damp air sets in. One hand rubs the other as he tries to work out the stiffness and thinks; cold to the bone. So what if the place is a drunken chaos; so what if there is no food for the kids. So it’s all a big shambles. Big deal; why should I care? . . . and why did he pick now; why’d he pick this brutal night?

What’s this really all about anyhow, he tries to reason. It doesn’t make sense; not as if it’s the first time I’ve opened my mouth around here. There’s got to be more behind it; and why tonight of all lousy nights? Why did Rex keep push’n me like that? Now he’s gone and tossed me out, tell’n me to stay out and never come back… . and me being the big jerk; yup, just had to walk right into it. Just had to prove my point and stand my ground; he knew I wouldn’t back down. But there’s got to be more, and continues to ask, why; why did he keep push’n and push’n. It’s as if he set me up; I know he did.

His head buried in his coat, he keeps going over the fight. He recalls how Rex just grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back; then ordered his mom to open the door. He can still hear him yell, Open the goddamn door, or by god I’ll push him through. . . . and thinks; almost broke free, but the little boys got in the way. I know they just tried to help, but they could’ve been hurt. The scene plays out as he tries to make sense of it… . and then as if a bolt out of the blue, it all falls in place.

That’s it, he says; and I bet I’m right. Yup, that’s got to be it; has to be. I just bet the old man is start’n to be afraid of me. Probably thinks I’ll kill him or worse, not that he don’t deserve it. The old lush; and Susie is just as bad, she’s the one that opened the door. They’re both noth’n but drunken old slobs.

Here on the step, he wishes with all his might he could speak with Paul. Not that it would do any good; he wouldn’t help. Paul never stands up to them; he couldn’t stand up to a flea. A deep breath seems to pull him in. But at least he might be able to talk them into let’n me back in. Lost in words, he tries to figure out what to do. What the heck am I supposed to do? Just how many places do these people think I have to choose from; just where do they think I can go?

[2]

A loud noise brings him back… . and then recognizes the unexpected familiar voice as the door slams. What are you doing? Why are you out here in weather like this? Don’t you know enough to get out of the cold; it’s got to be close to freezing. This is the kind of stuff that can make you sick… . and what’s with the door, why is the darn thing locked?

Breathing into cupped hands to keep warm, Sonny slowly looks up. With a look of anguish, he turns. Uncertain of what’s going on, he wonders; where’d she come from? How’d she get here; I didn’t hear her pull up. . . . and figures; she must’ve pulled in from the alley.

Coming out the front door, walking towards him as she snugs her coat to her neck, is Aunt Margaret. Heading his way, he once more has to wonder; how’d they get to be sisters; never did think they looked alike. An image of his mom’s tall, slim frame and blonde hair flash through as he thinks; how’d this one get so short? As she nears, more thoughts run through; she sure don’t dress like her sister; not in those clothes. Susie wears all that tight stuff; then has to paint up her face; likes to make her lips red… . and piles all that hair on her head; says it makes her round face look longer… . and shows off her blue eyes. A long sigh and he thinks; and here’s plain Aunt Margaret; always seems to dress as if she’s go’n to church. This close, he notices she has cut her straight brown hair and thinks; she chopped it off again. She leans against the rail as he sums it up; but at least she’s real. . . . and stares into her best feature… her warm brown eyes. The way he sees it, not only don’t the two look alike; the way they act, you wouldn’t know they grew up in the same house.

For some reason his aunt is special in his life. He doesn’t know her that well, but with what time he has spent with her, she just seems to care how he feels… . and knows she goes out of her way to check on him. He doesn’t know much about her life, but knows it is different from theirs. A few years back when she first showed up he noticed how Aunt Margaret seemed to carry herself with what he heard called dignity. He knows she works hard, and seems to be the responsible one as he thinks; a lot more than Susie. This one knows what to do; she doesn’t need any of them. No sir, he affirms; not her; she does things her way. With that, he recalls the first time he thought of it… . and had figured out all on his own; the world accepts her more than the rest of us. . . . and can’t help but grasp; she absolutely doesn’t cherish the thought of being around this part of her family. That’s why he’s so puzzled… . and wonders; so why is she here; and why on a night like this?

He listens to her why’s and can’t help but think; I have my own whys; maybe I should ask her the same thing. But not in the mood to exchange empty words, instead tries his best to throw her off. So, he shrugs; What’s go’n on; why are you here? Didn’t hear you pull up; kind of out of your territory, ain’t you?

Just passing by, come the usual words, but does pick up what she says next. We just decided to stop; and it looks like a good thing too! What the heck happened in there? The place is a disaster; worse than normal. The furniture is scattered all over the place. She rubs her hands and sticks them in coat pockets. . . . and the kids; never seen them so upset, she tells him. So don’t ask me what’s going on; I’m the one asking the questions… . and it’s time to fess up.

Not wanting to involve her; besides, he knows she can’t do a thing to change it… . and he is embarrassed. He hates it when his family acts like Riverview rats; at least that what he has heard them called. Or the one he heard the other day when the kid called him, Poor white trash. . . . and thinks; right before I beat the crap out of him. So with a deep breath decides to do what he has done so many times. He sucks it up and throws on his tough-guy mask… . and needs to sound as normal as possible.

Pass’n by; yeah, right, he smirks. . . . and on a night like this. Besides, you’re never in our neck of the woods, so who you try’n to kid? Then with a slight tease, looks up and throws out a sly grin. ". . . and who’s this we you’re talk’n about," he asks. Thinking he pulled it off, he leans back with a proud sigh and burrows his chin in the top of his coat.

"Never mind the we young man; I’m the one out here freezing, she snaps. I want to know what the heck happened. I just stopped to bring you kid’s food. Her face grows pundit. You may not think I know what’s going on, but I know enough that I didn’t want you all to be hungry too. Then I find you out here; just wanted you to come in and eat. That’s when I found the door locked… . and from the inside! So you might as well come clean; I’m not leaving until you tell me."

Too bad you didn’t show up sooner, said as if put out by her timing; Would’ve saved a lot of trouble. A slight pause to think turns him to the street. I guess it doesn’t matter, he all but shrugs; Bound to happen sooner or later.

What doesn’t matter? She probes. What are you talking about; what in God’s name ever mattered in this place? I never thought they cared one way or the other; at least that’s the impression I’ve had. . . . and leans against the support pole to block the wind.

Well someone cared tonight, he manages to sound ironic. The ol’ man and I just got through rearrang’n the place; and throws out; Again. Then heaves a sigh and lets it slip. But I think I might’ve done it up good this time. His voice cracks; and has to stop and stare off to regain control.

Did what up good? She asks as it dawns on him; guess she is hang’n on to every word I say.

Rex and I, he fires back. We just had a knockdown drag ‘em out fight, and he went and kicked me out of the house. Pushed me out here yell’n and swear’n; told me not to come back. That’s when he locked the door! . . . and feels his anger creep back.

Quiet for a few seconds has him breathe deep; and then lets out a hopeless sigh and slumps in defeat. I don’t know, he throws out, and as if confused repeats; I don’t know, and stares off. No words heard draw him back. Now I’m stuck out here, he says; Guess I need to figure out what the heck I’m supposed to do. . . . and waves her off as not to waste her time.

He can tell she is cold; the wind is doing the same thing to her as it did to him, whipping at her face. He wants her to go in and get out of the cold; that he will be fine, he just needs time to figure out what to do. But instead, she seems to want to join him on the step. What’s she up to; he wants to know; why didn’t she go in? What can she do; it’s not her problem. She don’t need to be here. Oh well, he shrugs; guess she wants to show me she’s on my side.

[3]

With her next to him, he once again listens to how frustrated his aunt is with her sister. What she says, he has heard her say more than once. How in the world can Susie let that man treat her own flesh and blood this way? She can’t let Rex do this to you; she needs you. Margaret has told him she knows he is the one that keeps all the kids together. She knows he is the one that feeds them; worries about them and protects them. She had said then he was too young to be this responsible… . and there was a time she would want to know where Paul is, but noticed she didn’t ask tonight. Maybe she knows he ducked out as usual; Paul always takes off and avoids the issues.

Tonight though, she seems different; a few things seem to be new. He listens to how stupid her sister is; and if his mom would just change her ways, how much more they could have. Then she just starts to fire away. Goes on with how pretty the girls look these days; and she hopes they can stay out of trouble. She has a new way to tell the twins Morris and Mornie apart. She mentions Ronnie’s tight curly black hair; and then thinks Junior seems way too quiet these days. She does think Paul should be here as she speaks of his Roman face, olive skin, brown eyes, and sturdy build. But when she starts on him, he feels strange. He doesn’t know how to take it; he didn’t know he is cute. The big deal she makes of his cherub face; a face like his mom’s, but does seem to be taking on a new look… . and envies his clear bronze skin, with his deep blue eyes and thick black hair. He didn’t know he had thick brows, or that his lashes extend out to shadow his face, and then curl back over his eyelids. She worries he’s on the thin side and thinks he should eat more. Might just be a stage, she tells him; In time you will fill out. . . . and is sorry she can’t help; that all she can do is sit and listen.

He can’t help but wonder; what’s with her; why she talk’n like this, and turns towards her. Just as he starts to speak, she changes her tune… . and doesn’t give him a chance to say a word.

Well, she sighs with contempt. None of this is a surprise. I wondered how long it would take; hard to believe you both could last this long in the same house. This has been a long time coming; knew it was just a matter of time. When she stops, he has to wonder if she ran out of things to say. Huddled together they sit quietly on the step. They listen as the bluster of the wind disturbs the trees while their eyes draw to the warm lights of the neighbors. One by one as each house comes to life they watch silhouettes dance across the shades. Deep in thought, they do their best to keep warm; and snug the coats tighter to their ears. All while they try to figure out what he needs to do next; what are his options.

Margaret breaks the silence. Might be a good time to go stay at your; and is quick to stammers her words. Ah, I mean; and then is quick to change course. You could come and stay at my place, she just throws out. Or hang out with some of your friends on the off chance things cool down here at home. A short pause gives her time to think, but so does he. Good time to stay where; he wants to know. Why did she quit? Why didn’t she finish? But has to draw back. Maybe you could stay out here, she taunts; At least till you freeze to death.

She draws close to tease; and then leans in to nudge him on the shoulder. All as he wants to know; why didn’t she finish what she started to say? Was it a slip of the tongue; might just want out of here. Freeze huh, he scoffs and bumps her back; Might just be my best option.

Hanging on to what she said keeps him guessing, so decides to get serious. Not quite sure how or why, he heaves a sigh. Oh, I don’t know, he says for a stall, I don’t know. But does want to lead her back to where she wouldn’t go. I do know I can’t interfere with your life, he starts out; You seem to have a lot go’n. . . . and draws out, You certainly don’t need me drag’n you down… . and as for friends; that’s a joke, he shrugs. He turns to face her. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have friends that can afford me sponge’n off them. Besides, I swear; one thing I never want to be is a freeloader.

When he turned, he could tell by her eyes she needed to cover her tracks. That the different scenarios she threw out were just to throw him off. It makes him want to know; why’d she change direction on me? . . . and knows she has more to say, but for some reason wants to hold out. He’s watched others act this way; it’s when they’re unsure, is his best guess; not sure if they should say it or not. He decides to give her some room to think while he weighs what it could be. What is it she won’t tell me? Hope she knows I’m old enough; I can take it. All she needs to do is spit it out; wonder if I need to throw out a few hints. He ponders how to drag it out, but stops when she sighs. So tell me, she says, "Does your mom ever stick up for you? What does Paul say to Rex? You boys ever thought of leaving; say… take off and live some place else?

Where does she think that place would be, he wonders. Where’s she going with these stupid questions; sounds to me as if she has her own hints to throw out. Are you kidd’n, he says with sarcasm. Susie is never on our side. Heck, she’s the one that opened the door; she helped throw me out. She don’t care. She just takes his side; God forbid she should lose her alcohol ticket. As for Paul, you must be jok’n; he’ll never say a word. The poor guy’s afraid of his own shadow. Nope, I’m on my own on this; all I want to do is get old enough to get out of this pigsty.

Well, he thinks when his answers don’t seem to please her; I must not have walked into that trap. By the sounds of her sigh, he figures; guess she’s gonna try and push me harder; and starts to enjoy watching her struggle. So he decides to wait and see what she comes up with to get him to take the bait. That’s not what I asked. What I want to know is; have you wondered what your life would be like if your mom never moved you to this town? . . . and what life would be like if she never married Rex? . . . and can tell by the way she leans back she is pleased. Her smile tells him she thinks she came up with a better way to get to wherever she’s going with this.

All the time, he nods. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish she never hooked up with the guy. Do you think I like it when they call me Lewis; it’s the only name Paul and I have to use. Guess he is the only man she could find to support us. But now they have all these kids; seems like we’re all stuck with each other. His thoughts shift back to the barrage of questions. What’s up, he wants to know; she never talks like this. She’s usually the one that tells us what to do. So why this; what is different now? . . . and decides; it’s time to find out.

Feeling self-assured, So, tell me, he says. Where ya go’n with all this Aunt Margaret; why all the questions? You never act this way; I’m on to you. . . . and feels good when he thinks; I can use her words against her; time to get this turned. Looks as if it’s your turn now, he smiles; Time to fess up. When no words come back, he figures he hasn’t made it easy and watches her evaluate what she wants to say… . and so he waits. He wants to give her plenty of room to see which way she wants to go.

Finally, as if she has come to terms, she heaves a sigh. All right, she tells him: I’m going to say it. From the corner of his eye, he sees her turn. For a long time, she says, I’ve wondered, but have been afraid to open my mouth. . . . and just as quick comes to an abrupt stop.

With nothing but the sound of rustling branches keeping time with the wind, he turns to face her. With the turn comes a thought; she must have gone mad. You afraid, he all but gasps, Since when? . . . and once more finds she still hasn’t made up her mind. The more she holds back, the more determined he is to find out. Next he tries to force the issue. So out with it, he says; What do you want to tell me; and don’t tell me you’re afraid.

Well, he decides when she stays quiet; that went well. Her continued silence drives him to the edge. Now he has to wonder; what is it? What would she know that would make her afraid? Might help if I tell her what I know. . . . and decides to move her along. Afraid, he snaps; I’ll tell you who’s afraid, said in a huff. I think Rex is afraid; scared I’ll give him the beat’n he deserves. That’s why he kicked me out; that’s what I think is go’n on, he nods. We’ll just see who’s afraid, he states… . and pulls in to mumble; If I ever get back in.

Words barely out, Aunt Margaret seems to draw from his strength. He slips back to listen while she works up her dander. No surprise she agrees when it comes to Rex. But what she says next puts his thoughts on hold. She asks if the reason he sticks it out is because of the kids… . and once he had heard the truth, thought he’d be long gone from here. She is not afraid of them; she just thought if she brought it up it would force him to make a decision; one he might not want to make yet… . and didn’t want him to feel bad. Then as if he should know what she is trying to say, she moves on… . and tells him how long she has had to struggle with all the secrets her family has kept.

What she says makes him wonder; truth; what truth? What truth would make me feel bad; what does she think I know? He stays quiet while she tells him that no matter what she knows his life here won’t get better; and that it just might get worse. That he’s old enough to hurt Rex; or maybe be hurt. Either way, she says; You’d ruin your life. So with all that’s gone on and still going on; she just wants to get it all out in the open.

Eyes fixed, he holds his breath and waits… . and concludes, the less he says the more she talks. What I’ve wondered all these years, she states with caution; . . . and what I’ve thought a mystery, and holds her head firm; Why you just don’t go live with your real dad? She heaves a sigh of relief. There, she nods as if to put it to him, I’ve said it out loud. She looks straight at him. At least this is one secret we both know, and pulls her coat close, One we can talk about.

[4]

Stunned by her words, he is quick to pull in. Dad, he wants to jump up and shout; what dad; did she just say real dad? Secret; what secret? All the words he knows tell him he didn’t hear the new ones right… . and feels a knot grow in his stomach as if she just gave him a punch. His head just follows his eyes as he turns and stares off… . and thinks: she is mad; she’s gone over the edge; totally lost her all marbles.

But it doesn’t take his brain long to kick in. In an instant, he turns. What secret; what are you talk’n about? Did I hear you right; did I hear you say real dad? Why’d you say that; you know we don’t have a dad; at least one we know of, as he recalls all the times they called he and Paul bastards… . and thinks; even Rex; and how many fights he has had just to defend him and Paul… . and up till now, his only secret has been that he believed them to be right.

You mean to tell me you don’t know, she blurts out as if aghast. That no one has brought this up; that you don’t know of him? Now looking as puzzled as he is.

Him, his thoughts repeat as she turns to look eye level. You’re telling me you don’t know you have a dad? Jesus kid; didn’t you ever think to ask? He listens to her skepticism as she shakes her head. I can’t believe you don’t know. A short pause pulls her in. Oh my God, she gasps; I just assumed you knew; that you were the one that chose not to speak of him.

Dazed by what Aunt Margaret says, he feels numb as a strange sensation tingles its way through. He thinks his head must’ve moved as the street fills his view and queries race through. Questions fight to line up; line up so fast he can’t absorb what he just heard. Speechless he can’t say a word; so he just sits and stares in disbelief. Suddenly it dawns on him, and it all seems to fall in place… . and has to think; that’s it; I’ve figured it out. It’s the fight; I’ve taken a few more blows to the head then I thought. Maybe none of this is real, as he starts to doubt, but part of him wants it to be true. It takes him some time, but then jerks as it sinks in; he finds he needs to snap out of it. Yes; he thinks; you heard her right; you just need to get her to say it again.

Let me get this right, he says and sucks in cold air to clear his mind. You’re tell’n me Paul and I have a dad; and that you know the truth. Then, as if one starved and set free is ready to devour all in his path. Well, he huffs out; You best be ready to tell me the rest of it.

He waits, but has to turn when he doesn’t hear a sound… . and finds what he calls guilt on her face. Thinking his words were too harsh, he wants to explain. I just need to make sure I heard you right, he says; That’s all. . . . and wants to know; why won’t she talk, he wonders; afraid I don’t know about that stuff; jeez, does she think I don’t know where all these kids came from. He can see she is upset. Don’t worry, he grins to ease her back. I do know a few things; I know we got here somehow. Still a bit awkward on the subject of sex, he throws out, Never thought we were hatched. Just spit it out; it can’t be that hard.

It’s not quite that simple, she tells him: You didn’t hear what I said. She goes on but he wants to go back to what he heard her say. But didn’t she just ask me; then has to stop. Caught in a crossfire of words, he needs to listen. "What I asked is this. Why don’t you go live with your dad?" She pulls in as if to give him time to think.

With no more clues, she goes quiet… . and just seems to sit and stare. His best guess is it’s up to him to figure out the rest. When he sorts through her words, quick to pick out are you and your. What are you try’n to tell me, his words are slow; Did you just tell me Paul is not my real brother? He pulls in with the thought, but goes on. We’re just like the rest, all we have is the same mother; forced to hold back what wants to well up. Come on Aunt Margaret, he pleads. You need to come clean: don’t know how much more I can take tonight.

All right, she states with discretion. He waits, but then has to deal with the news just heard. My whole life is a joke, his thoughts stir as he stiffens with the weight that ties a knot in his stomach; nothing in it is real. The tighter she wraps her coat, the tighter the knot wraps in his gut; I don’t even have Paul; guess we’re both on our own. Wonder if he knows? He draws back as she crosses her arms to hold in the heat. Hope I can explain it, she seems unsure; I guess I can tell you what I know… . and that won’t be much! As if an afterthought, So I hope you are ready for it, she says; . . . and I hope you can take it!

Oh, I can take it; guess I’m still on my feet; does that count? The need to survive sets in as he thinks; what’s a few more hits? A far-off look drifts past as his aunt starts her search to find his story. First let me tell you this, she states. Our whole family is a mystery to me. That most of what I do know is just bits and pieces; stuff I’ve had to pick up from the town criers. She nods and looks him in the eyes. "At first, I didn’t even know I had a sister. It was just through the good women at church that I found out about Susie… . and was just by accident that I heard them speak of her. When they saw me, they hushed right up, but I saw the way they looked; a shrewd look tells him she got past them. So me and my big mouth went home; guess I couldn’t get there fast enough. The first thing I did was tell my dad. I asked him if they were right; did I have a sister."

Guess it wasn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made, she throws in; Guess I found more than I bargained for. . . . and rolls her eyes. It dawned on me this must be why my mom lives in her own world; a dream world of some kind. Still don’t know, but I do know she won’t say; guess I might not ever know. But that day my dad told me not to speak Susie’s name in our house. It was because of her that God punished my mom; damned her soul to hell for the way she had lived… . and then my dad came along; guess he needed a wife to raise the two brats his first wife left him. The one he said died, but I heard she ran off. Doesn’t matter; they’re both the same to him. So there was my mom working the silver mines with her folks, but unless saved by the Lord my dad didn’t want her. From what I can tell, my mom’s folks had her make a choice. She could accept the way of the Lord, or be placed in one of those asylums for the disgrace she brought on her family.

You know the kind of place, she says. The place they put women when they try to think; said with a slight nudge. You know, when we try to think on our own. With that said, she shakes her head. My dad made me promise never to mention Susie. He made me put my hand on the Good Book and swear not to tell my mom… . and if I did, I just might end up in one of those places too. So when my dad said none of this concerned me, I made sure I listened.

With his head buried in his coat, Sonny thinks; might be why we never saw them; guess I never thought about it. Pictures of Margaret with her hand on the bible fill his mind as he draws back. You don’t know our family, but trust me, none of them talk. We just live day to day; and trust in the Lord, we just let Him show us the way… . and all of what I’m telling you, I had to pick up by chance; I was too scared to ask. What I heard at church that day was that Susie was my mom’s daughter; and that she was born from sin… . and the talk that day was Susie got married. One of them asked if the guy knew she had a son; the one they called a bastard born out of wedlock. At the time, I kind of figured that was why my folks disowned her. Once I heard the man she married was a lot older, so I thought that was it; that that was why we didn’t associate with her. As time went by the big talk was that she was shack’n up with some new guy… . and when the word got out with how much she drank, that’s when I quit sneaking around; from then on I didn’t care.

Sonny starts to get the picture; might be why they don’t act alike. Hey, just like Paul and me; a thought runs through; we sure don’t act alike. By the sigh that pulls him back, he knows; she is as confused as I am. The older I got, the worse the stories. By then I had accepted the fact that your mom wasn’t a part of my life. She hesitates, and then turns. But once I heard how bad-off you kids were, that’s when I decided I needed to find you; and none of the good ol’ Christians in that town could hold me back. Her head shakes. No sir; I got as far from that place as I could.

He starts to wonder; is that it; hope there’s more. Since the cat is out of the bag, she says. I might as well tell you what I did find. She seems to huddle close as if she doesn’t want the ones in the house to hear what she tells him. This is what I know; Susie lived in Manchester and had met this man named Kuhlman… . and was the older guy that set their tongues a wag’n.

The next words make him think she is still not so sure. As rumor has it, the man felt sorry for Paul; thought he could help give him a life. You know your mom… . and we both know she’s always ready for the next party; acts likes she’s the queen bee. So I guess she just pawned Paul off where she could. I heard there were times she would leave him alone while she hung out in bars. When this guy found out, he started to pay more attention to them. Well, your mom must’ve liked it; why not, at least he was there to watch her kid, I guess. Must be why she said yes when he asked her to marry him.

Sonny tries his best to ingest the rumors; talk, but not facts come at him so fast he needs a place to put it. He wants her to slow down, but afraid if she does, she’ll stop; and like a dream, will fade away. He needs to know if the guy she is speaking of is his real dad. Taking a deep breath, he raises his hand as if to say hold on; wait a minute… . and hopes he doesn’t lose her, he does want her to tell him all she knows. But there is one thing he needs to know; he needs to be sure what she says is true. Aunt Margaret, he says, Are you sure this stuff is about me? . . . and that you don’t have me confused?

I can only imagine what is running through that head of yours. But I swear to God it’s true; it’s all about you; she assures. For a fact, your mother should have told you long before this, she smiles. You know its way overdue.

Her oath of truth lures him in; and then his curiosity mounts. I know your folks were married in Manchester, said as she wraps her arm in his. A short pause lets her pull in and think. Has to be true, had a good source on that one; told me they were married when they had you too. Don’t ask me where this one come from, but you do have a real name. She seems to draw from a haze; and interjects; "We all call you Sonny, but your real name is Stallo. I guess when you were small, people liked to tease you. I heard they called you Stella because you were so pretty. Word has it Paul is the one that called you Sonny.

While he struggles with the name, he notices how she looks at him; as if she can sense his qualm. Believe me, she says. I am telling you the truth; it’s all true. Then she looks past him as if she wants to search for a way to convince him. At once, as if a light came on she pulls back. I know; I’ll bet all this is on file in Manchester someplace; she shrugs, and draws out, Somewhere.

The look on her face tells him to believe what he hears. But his inner voice shouts; make sure; make sure you don’t get taken in for a second time tonight. So he cautiously asks, What’d you say this guys name is, Coldman; Coolman. How did you say it; and please tell me you have a first name for the man?

Just as he says the name, a smile crawls across her face. His name is Kuhlman, she grins; Herman Kuhlman. He has to wait for her to think, but when she nods knows she has it. Let’s see; I heard his last name pronounced as cool man. . . . and proceeds to spell it out, K-U-H-L-M-A-N.

Now that he has a name, his questions line up. He turns to his aunt and starts to fire. So why the big secret, he asks; . . . and why wouldn’t they want me to know the truth? Who is this Herman; and where is he? Sonny keeps firing, Why didn’t he come after me? Why’d he leave me with Susie; he had to know what she was like.

He stops with the blank look she gives him… . and can sense a sigh of despair. I know, we all have questions, she says. I would like to know my mom’s secrets. Seems as if all you’re told is don’t ask; said what goes on in our house stays in our house; that it is no ones business. Then she seems to shrug. As for your mom, who knows; could be a hundred reasons. Maybe she never thought to tell you; maybe she just wants to forget. Maybe she didn’t want you to know because no one knows Paul’s father; maybe not even her.

Why didn’t you tell me; he wants to ask; you know I can keep my mouth shut? But then decides to give her a chance. I know I was raised to keep my mouth shut; said they were our secrets… . and I did. At first I had to, but there came a time I had my own reasons, she confesses. I never brought it up because I didn’t want to cause a problem between you and Paul; didn’t want the two of you to turn on each other. The one thing you seem to have is each other; it was always the both of you against them, said as she points to the house. I didn’t think it was my place to take that away from you. She pulls back with a shrug. Then as time went on, I guess I just figured you knew. Her voice drifts. Guess I just took it for granted. A short pause, she looks his way. But Jesus Sonny, she blurts out Just who the hell would’ve ever thought a secret could last this long!

[5]

They both seem to go quiet… . and since the rain has stopped, he listens to the wind howl through the trees; and takes in what he has heard. He knows he should be coming up with more questions, but he doesn’t know what to ask. Still taken aback, how can I ask if I don’t know; and not sound stupid? The more he thinks, the more his mind wants to work out a plan. Why not; he decides; I don’t have a life here. Now that I know, I need to find my life; but how? He still feels there’s a lot left unsaid… . and hopes Aunt Margaret knows more than she thinks. This time he is the first to break the silence. In a low voice, desperately trying not to disturb the atmosphere, he asks, So tell me, do you think this Herman guy is still in Manchester?

I guess, she blurts out, and then hesitates. Well, a quick stall as if to correct; "Guess I can’t say for sure; guess I don’t have an honest answer for you.

Who would know? Did Susie ever mention where Herman worked; what he did to make ends meet? . . . and thinks; I need to ask; just might jog a memory.

I really can’t answer that one either. Most of the people there farm; maybe he is a farmer, seems to be a guess. I told you, I was afraid to ask for details, and pulls back in a slump.

Let me try and put this together, Sonny says. We know this guy’s name is Herman Kuhlman; that he and Susie were married in Manchester. I have a real name; that my name is Stallo, he shrugs; Whatever that means. . . . and he is quick to point out. We don’t know anyone that can fill us in; or give us the details. We don’t know who can help us find him. He turns. Did I miss much?

Sorry Sonny; that’s all I know. It’s as if when your mom leaves, people just disappear; and she could care less… . .and I was too afraid to ask; I had to make sure she let me see you kids.

I care, he thinks, and bolts up and throws his hands in the air… . and instantly decides; that’s not good; it’s cold. . . . and at once sticks his hands back in his coat pockets. He paces back and forth, How can I find my dad, he shouts. Why didn’t they tell me. All I have is a name; how the heck do they expect me to find him?

A quick look at Aunt Margaret finds her close to tears… . and wonders; is she hav’n second thoughts; might think I’m mad at her. I really am sorry, she tells him; God how I wish I could tell you more, she shrugs. I know how frustrated you are right now; I just hope I did the right thing in telling you this. Then draws out, Maybe I should have waited.

Oh heck, Aunt Margaret, he slumps and all but stomps his foot to bring her back on his side. Don’t worry; and stop fuss’n, he tells her. Let’s just turn this around; let’s just think of all you did tell me. Finally, after all these years, I know who I am. I always thought I was a bastard, but you said they were married; think of that. . . . and with the thought comes a smile. You gave me a dad and a name, pulls him in with thought; I guess what you gave me is an identity. A slight twist has him think of what he said. Jeez, he shrugs. It’s sure is a heck of a lot when you think of how this lousy day started.

He cocks his head to the side to check her face… . and finds a smile that seems to match his. It worked; he wants to shout; think she’s back on my side. Her attitude has changed too; so much, he thinks she’s ready to take them all on; and not care what they think. Then as if she’s summed it all up, Okay young man, she says; One thing I need to know. She stops, so he waits for what comes next. She stands to face him. Now that you know of Herman, she asks; What do you think you’ll do?

What do you think? He blurts out with no thought. Then turns to gaze at the street. Guess my answer is some place out there, he nods. A short pause to think, Yep, that’s what I need to do; I need to get to Manchester. Where else do you think I’d go, he turns to ask; Now that I know I have a dad; and have a name? As if all thought out, One of them up there will know who he is. Better yet, maybe they’ll even know where he lives. . . . and dares to anticipate a real life.

Manchester, she blurts back. That’s a hundred miles from here; you can’t go tonight! . . . and pauses as if wheels spin in her head. When they stop, Why don’t you come home with us tonight, she says. We both need to get out of this cold. You go wait in the car; I’ll run in and let your mom know; and get Frank. Then we can get the heck out of here."

Are you kidding, he says as if piqued. Tell Susie; no way; I’m out of this hole. Heck, they threw me out; why would I want to tell her. You, my favorite aunt, you just gave me my ticket out. I’ll just be one less mouth to feed; and I know they won’t miss me. Besides, I feel too good to stand still. Heck, right now I could run to Manchester.

His mind made up, he needs to be sure she doesn’t raise a fuss… . and finds it doesn’t take long to come up with a plan. He smiles at the thought; and gives her all the credit. Frank, huh, his grin grows devious; Finally got a name out of you. How’d you meet him? . . . and looks back towards the door while he asks, Where is he?

Yup, that’s his name, and he’s in the house; in there having a drink with Rex. My fault though. I knew I needed to come out and talk with you so I told him it was all right. Just hope I don’t have to drag him out; sure not getting hooked up with no drunk, she states with conviction.

I did it; I pulled it off; convinced his plan worked knows he is out of here. But I know what you’re doing, reels him back. She gives him that; caught in the act glance, and puts it to him. You’re trying to distract me, her jaw juts; You’ve always been pretty good at that, but not this time, she states. I can’t let you go off; you’ll freeze. You need time to think this through, she nods. I have to know you’re all right with what I told you; and I’m worried I won’t hear from you.

A sheepish smile lets her know she caught him, but he feels strange. While he works on how he feels he tells her, Trust me Aunt Margaret; I can handle it. In fact, it’s the best news I could get; or will ever get. I can’t wait to find my dad. . . . and at once, fills with a sense of pride at the words that come out. But then his jaw tightens. Can’t tell you how often I’ve been embarrassed when they called me a bastard… . and all the times I believed it, he shakes his head. Naw, you don’t need to worry; I’ll keep in touch.

With a slight turn to the right, he looks out towards the street and sighs. I have a life out there, he tells her. I need to go after it. I hope you can understand why, and turns to the house and listens to the noise. It doesn’t take much to know what it means. He knows that the boys are safe; and since they ate, are smart enough to stay out of the way. He knows they’ll play until they drop one by one and sleep right where they fall. But most of all, he knows the noise starts with the booze… . and knows the place will stay this way until a fight breaks out.

He turns and stares at Aunt Margaret. Thanks for the food, he tells her. You were right, the boys were hungry; they did need to eat. With that, he grins. . . . and thanks for what you told me; just what I needed too. He takes a step to leave, but then comes to a halt. A slight turn turns him back. For the first time in my life, he says and gives his aunt one last smile, I finally have a direction.

The Mission

[1]

Direction, he all but shouts ; I sure know which direction that ol’ wind is blow’n; straight in my face . Pulling at his collar, Sonny blocks the icy breeze that breathes down the back of his neck… . and tries to stretch every inch of warmth out of his old hand-me-down coat. The wind howls in his ears; sure wish I had me one of those stock’n caps, he thinks; the ones I poke fun at when the boys wear ‘em. A shiver and his thoughts distract as he figures; if I were head’n south, most of this wind would be at my back . At once it dawns on him and needs to ask; heck, which way am I go’n? Just what direction is Manchester? Just as quick; maybe I should’ve stayed at Margaret’s, pops in as he fights off the air that passes through his thin worn clothes… . and then works it out; naw, if I don’t go, who knows when I’ll get there… . and besides, I need to get there; where else would I go? Just think, this time tomorrow I’ll be sit’n talk’n to my dad!

Walking down the dark empty street lined with dimmed lights and quiet houses, all he hears is the sound of his own footsteps. Long strides gives him time to figure out how to get to his dad’s; all right, let’s see; I need to get a grip. I need to think this out. Manchester is on the other side of Independence. That’s on the other side of Jesup; and that’s on the other side of; he runs out of names. Man, he asks; what is the name of that town? When nothing comes to mind; aw heck, he shrugs;