Abandoned

By Jim Robertson

In 1957, Ben Wilkie graduated from Liberty High School at the top of his class. By chance, on that same night, he came to the aid of a young woman by the name of Frankie Johansson who was several years older than Ben and not even a Mississippian, but those things didn't matter. Very shortly he was smitten. Soon, however, a strange phone call caused her to up and leave. With his whole life in front of him, he knew his only choice was to live it, but he wasn't at all sure how to go about it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781532003479

Jim Robertson

Jim Robertson is a native of Liberty, Mississippi. Before becoming a writer, he was a member of the Mississippi House of Representatives and a college teacher both in Mississippi and in Texas. He and his wife Linda now live in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, where he is working on his next novel and dreaming up ideas for other books.

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ABANDONED

Copyright © 2016 Jim Robertson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-0346-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-0347-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016912223

iUniverse rev. date: 10/03/2016

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Acknowledgments

As always, my sincere thanks go to my entire family and my close friends who give me continuing moral support. In addition, special thanks go to Nova Corley for the wonderful job she does in proof reading every line I write; Joe Parker for the host of very good suggestions; Sharon Evans for the great job she does in typing the first and last draft and everything in between and finally putting everything together so well; and Linda Vasquez for the excellent pictures she produces for me.

Chapter 1

On the night of April 29, 1957, when Ben Wilkie graduated from high school in Liberty Mississippi, he wanted to feel a real sense of satisfaction the way his 49 classmates seemed to be doing. It didn’t happen that way, though, and down deep he knew it wouldn’t. There had been some good times in the preceding four years, of course, and he could smile when he thought of them. Mostly, though, what Ben felt was that he hadn’t been challenged much, and he was embarrassed that his school year was only eight months long while everybody else seemed to go nine months.

Ben, however, was very proud of the fact that while he was in high school he read over five hundred books – five hundred thirteen to be precise. That set him apart from others, and he felt some pride in that fact.

His mom was there to see him walk across the stage to receive his diploma and move his tassel to the other side of his cap the way Mr. Fred LeBlanc, his senior sponsor, said he had to. She seemed to be listening intently when he gave his valedictory address, but, as he well knew, she could fool you about that sort of thing when she had to.

When the ceremony was over and all of his classmates went to their cars to go and celebrate in all kinds of different ways, he told his mom he thought he’d just ride around for a while. Then, just to be on the safe side, he said, Don’t wait up for me. You know how I do sometimes. He looked at her after he had spoken and saw to his dismay that she was looking across the parking lot at an old high school classmate of her own.

Did you hear me, Mom? he asked.

What, she said.

I asked if you heard my request that you not wait up for me.

Oh yes, of course, I did, she said, looking in his general direction.

For the first time, sighing to himself, Ben said, Well, good night then, Mom.

Ben headed for his car. As he cranked up and started to pull away, he saw that his mom had already walked across the parking lot and was standing casually, talking with her old friend.

No surprise there, he said to himself. Some things never change.

The first thing Ben did when he got his car cranked was to head for Main Street so he could drive up to the Tasty Freeze where he’d turn around and head back through town on his way down to Tanyard Creek where he could turn around and do the same thing again if he wished. He’d done that countless times simply because that was what he and his buddies did, but on that night he decided on a whim that he wasn’t going to do that. As a matter of fact, he decided, I may never do that again.

Having made his decision, when he got to Main Street and saw that his way was clear, he went straight ahead so he could get another good look at Cooter Carol’s house, the prettiest house in the county he felt, and then drive down Greensburg Road and see where it led. He’d never done that before, and, as he drove along, he wondered why. He slowed his car as the Carol house came into view, and, as he took in its beauty, he remembered for the fiftieth time that Mrs. Carol had given him a shirt for graduation, and it was one of his favorite possessions.

Greensburg Road was dark and lonely, but he didn’t mind because that fit his mood to a tee. He wasn’t unhappy exactly, but he was far from content – that was for sure.

To hell with it, he said aloud. I’ll do like Scarlett O’Hara and worry about that tomorrow. Thinking about old Scarlett even made him smile. He felt she was mighty silly, though, and he wondered why old Rhett Butler was willing to put up with her as long as he did.

He was so completely absorbed in his thoughts that it was almost too late to avoid it when he saw a big hole in the road. Swerving just in time to miss it, he cursed his own stupidity, realizing he could have caused himself to have a serious accident.

As he straightened up he saw some lights ahead, so he figured he’d better slow down and make sure there was plenty of room for him and the other car. As he got closer to the lights, however, he saw that the other car was off the road and its hood was up. Oh goodness, he thought. It looks as if someone is having a problem. When he drew even with the other car, he saw that someone was beneath the steering wheel, but he couldn’t tell who it was. In fact, he couldn’t even tell if the driver was male or female. It doesn’t matter, though, he said to himself. I’ll just turn around when I can and come back to see if I can be of any help.

As he had hoped, he came upon a wide shoulder in a matter of seconds, and it was easy for him to make a U-turn. As he approached the stalled car, he saw that it was an old Ford that had seen better days. Making sure he was well out of the road, he pulled in behind it and stopped. Leaving his motor running, he set his emergency brake and got out. Just as he was slamming his door, the door of the stalled car opened and a woman got out. He didn’t recognize her, but he could see she was blond and slim and very attractive. At the moment, though, she looked a little scared, Ben thought, as he walked toward her. He didn’t figure she would be able to see him very well because of his headlights, so he wanted to be sure he didn’t do anything to alarm her. Deliberately, he walked slowly toward her and stopped when there were still several yards between them.

Speaking in what he hoped was a soothing voice, he said, Howdy, ma’am. My name is Ben Wilkie. I’m sure you don’t know me, and that probably makes you feel uncomfortable, but I assure you I’m a pretty good guy.

To his surprise, that made her laugh. Walking right up to him, she stuck out her hand and said, Hello, Ben Wilkie. My name is Frankie Johansson, and I surely do appreciate your willingness to stop. I’ve been sitting there for quite some time.

Ben liked the way her voice sounded, but he could tell from her accent she hailed from somewhere considerably north of Amite County. That, of course, made no difference whatsoever. The thing that was important was what Ben could do to help.

Tell me what happened, he said.

I was riding along at a reasonable speed, I thought, when all of a sudden, I heard the motor make a strange sound like it threw a rod or sprang a piston, whatever the hell an old car like this might do. A worthless ex-husband gave it to me as a part of our divorce settlement, and I think I know why.

Ben was watching her while she was talking, and he could tell that, though what she was saying wasn’t particularly pleasant, there really wasn’t any malice in her voice. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling as he listened to her, and when he asked if he might give her a ride somewhere, the smile she gave him in return as she said, Yes, was as pretty as anything he’d seen in quite some time. He judged her to be about twenty-two years old, and none of those years had been hard on her.

When they were ensconced in Ben’s car, he turned to her and said, Two things?

Yes, she said.

First, Johansson is an unusual name for these parts, and, secondly, something messed up your southern accent.

As he had hoped, Frankie took his kidding in stride and said, You southern boys make out like you’re slow, but I’ve never found that to be true. You’re certainly right about Johansson. It’s certainly not a common name around here, but, now that I think about it, it’s not all that common in Chicago, which by the way is where I met and married the fellow whose name I still use. It’s a good name for a professional writer who makes her living going where the stories are, such as southwest Mississippi, she said, looking straight into Ben’s eyes.

Wanting to keep the conversation going so he could hear her talk some more and see what other interesting things he might learn from her, Ben said, Well, Wilkie might not even be my real name for all I know. Mama gave it to me because she said she was pretty sure that was the name of the man who was my daddy. As soon as he’d spoken those strange words, he figured he better smile fast because he knew he’d done a stupid thing sharing something so personal with a total stranger.

She saw his smile, and to his relief returned it, as she said, I see you have a weird sense of humor, not unlike my own, I might add, and now you have me wondering if you just shared a secret with me.

As a matter of fact, I did, Ben said, and what’s more, I have no earthly idea why I did it.

To his surprise Frankie started laughing, and he was beginning to think she had decided he was as nutty as a fruitcake after all.

Thankfully, that didn’t prove to be the case, because through her laughter, she said, I’m sorry, Ben, but I sat here like a dummy and let you pass my road. You’ll have to turn around and go back.

That removed the tension in Ben, for the moment, anyway. When he got turned around and had made it to Frankie’s road, he decided he’d pick up his conversation where he’d left off. What do I care, he said to himself as he started talking. I’ll never see this woman again.

Actually, I was giving you the straight scoop a while ago, he said. I never even met my father. In fact, I’m not sure he even knows he has a son. Despite the thoughts he had just had, when he finished sharing that last bit of information, Ben found himself hoping Frankie would not see him as some kind of a pitiful misfit. As he waited for her response, he thought again about how foolish he had been to broach the subject of his father. He wondered for just a moment if his graduation had anything to do with it. Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait.

Speaking in a voice that showed what he took to be concern rather than pity, Frankie said, You seem to have adjusted well to the circumstances of your life, but I have to say I’m still sorry you didn’t have the benefit of a father to help you along. I can’t tell you my dad was absolutely great, especially when I was a teenager, but to his credit he stuck with me even in those times when I was treating him either with disdain or outright contempt.

Ben was puzzling over what kind of response he wanted to make when Frankie interrupted his thoughts and said, That’s my driveway there on the right.

Ben pulled into her driveway and stopped a few feet from her house, wondering why everything was so dark. Leaning forward and turning her head from side to side, Frankie said, I would have sworn I left a light on.

Instinctively, Ben reached over and put his hand on Frankie’s arm. Don’t worry, he said. I’ll go in with you, and I won’t leave you until I’m sure everything is OK.

Not even pretending she didn’t think that was necessary, Frankie said, I can’t tell you how much I would appreciate that.

Delighted, Frankie took Ben’s arm and held onto him until they got inside the house, turned on all the lights, and searched the entire premises. Only then did she relax and returned to what Ben supposed was her usual disposition – upbeat and talkative.

Frankie thanked Ben for what he had done and suggested he stay long enough to have a cup of coffee. That’s the least I can do, she said, since you’ve been so sweet to me tonight.

Ben hesitated a moment, trying to think of any reason why he shouldn’t accept her offer. Coming up with none, he said, Lots of times when I have a cup of coffee I have a piece of cheese toast to go along with it. I wouldn’t reckon you’d do that same thing?

Frankie looked at him in mock disbelief and said, Southern boys also tend to be a little bit presumptuous, but I will have to say you do have good taste.

A few moments later as they sat at Frankie’s table, with each of them having a cup of coffee and a piece of cheese toast, Ben felt comfortable enough to ask Frankie about her background.

As if waiting for that question to arise, she began talking about her childhood, her mom and dad, and their little Chicago home located only slightly north of the southern part of the city. Ben was a little confused by that explanation, but he didn’t let on. Warming to her subject more and more as she talked, she said, Although I was an only child, I was never lonely because I always had my books for company.

Same here, Ben said.

I suspected as much, she said.

Using her reading reference as a segue, she told Ben she decided to go to the University of Chicago, even though it was located only a few miles from home. There were professors there, she said, who helped her get a nice scholarship and paved the way for her to enter the university early. In fact, she said, "I started at the age of fourteen and finished three years later because they let me take tests and enter as a sophomore.

Ben’s mouth fell open at that news, and, before he had time to think it through, he blurted out, Damn. You must be a genius.

Not exactly, she said with a twinkle in her eye, but I am fairly smart. About like you, I suspect.

That comment flustered Ben, and for a moment he could think of nothing to say. Frankie filled that gap, however, by saying, I didn’t make the connection until a few minutes ago, Ben, but I’m pretty sure you just graduated at the top of your class, and you probably read more books than the rest of your class combined. Would that be about right? she asked, leaning over and nudging him.

Ben looked at her carefully before he responded. It seemed obvious she was giving him a compliment. If she was he wanted to let her know he thought that was nice. He also didn’t want to come across as being cocky. Choosing to not look at her directly, he said, You’re right, and I appreciate your remarking on it, but I’ll have to tell you I’m not sure it’ll make much difference.

That caused her to draw back, and she said, What on earth do you mean?

Well, Ben said, it’s not as if I did anything special.

If anything Frankie found that comment to be even worse than what he’d said before. She had pulled even further back from him.

Oh Lord, Ben thought, I’m getting in deeper and deeper. His mind started racing as he tried to come up with something that would make Frankie stop looking at him so disapprovingly with that arched eyebrow.

She was faster than he was, though, and, before he could get a word out, she said, Stop it! What you did was the right thing to do. You set an example for the rest of your class, and it’s not your fault they failed to follow it.

Secretly, Ben had felt that way, but he would never have admitted that to anyone in his past. In fact, he couldn’t even bring himself to the point of admitting it to Frankie either, so he said, "I got you sidetracked a while ago. Tell me some more about your life