Things of the Earth: Book 4 Part Ii Sparrow Wars in the Garden of Bliss

By C. A. Portnellus

It is 1954 and Barton Barre has not only survived World War II, but also come home a hero, thanks to his familys lucky phoenix. However, for this man of action, fortune is as fickle as is his heart. Now as he works to build a Texas oil empire, he must also keep his beautiful wife, Elise, and their son, Francis, content. Unfortunately, for Barton, this challenge is not easy as temptation and greed influence his every move.

Elise is a devoted mother who also faithfully follows Barton despite his callousness and lies. She knows his soul and believes he is the beast that only her love can tame.

Francis is a resilient boy who has learned early that when it comes to his father, he comes last. As he matures, strives for perfection, and exceeds his parents expectations, Francis still manages to fall into the shadow of their demanding lives. As temptation knocks on his own door, life leads Francis down a new path where every decision comes with consequences and he ponders whether he is now a victim of the dreaded La Barre family curse.

In this continuing multi-generational tale, fate and luck, play havoc with the Barre family during post-World War II Texas where love appears to be the only key to bliss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Dec 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781480840553

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Copyright © 2016 C.A. Portnellus.

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. Places, character names and events, are a creative invention of the author or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons living or dead, are coincidental or used fictitiously. This book contains adult language and sexual situations.

Archway Publishing

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

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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.

Cover design, interior design and art by C. A. Portnellus

Cover Photos:

Forgotten Child

Teatime

Fractured Earth

Buckaroo

Sparrow Wars Bird ribbon

Spine Photo: Cookie Jar

Title Page Photo: Red Stag

Sparrow Wars Birds

Photo Images by © Thinkstock.com

Any persons shown in images are models

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-4054-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-4055-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016919899

Archway Publishing rev. date: 12/29/2016

CONTENTS

DEDICATED TO

Part I—Breaking Stone Walls

1.   Lil Buckaroo and Goober

2.   Buried Treasure

3.   The Dog Days of Summer

4.   Crying Old Tears

5.   Little Lamb Lost

6.   Les Histoires

7.   Moon Tales

8.   Tales of the Hunt

9.   Broken Dreams

10.   Faute de Mieux

11.   Faux Pas

12.   De Novo

13.   Happiness Fleetly Flies

Part II—Catching A Falling Star

14.   Father’s Day

15.   A Wife Scorned

16.   Journey

17.   Lost Boys

18.   The Ghosts of Summers Past

19.   Twenty Questions

20.   Limbo

21.   Silver-Tongued Devil

22.   The Phoenix in Her Blood

23.   Grand Stories

24.   Sweet Were The Days Of Summer

25.   The Changeling

26.   The Barre Brat

27.   Ho! Ho! Horrible!

28.   Run, Francis, Run

29.   Sturm und Drang

30.   Après Moi, Le Déluge

31.   Love’s Cast-Away

Acknowledgments & Afterword

Excerpt From Book Five—Back To Earth

About The Books And Author

DEDICATED TO

The Baby Boomers.

We are a generation who grew up thinking that

Life should be perfect just like on TV.

Yet for many of us, we worked so much harder

For more than that dream,

And we chose to change our world.

My Baby Boomer with love.

My Soul Brother with Love.

Mom and Dad who gave me an educational childhood,

The appreciation and genetic talents for

History, Art, Music, Writing, Cooking, and LOVE.

My dreams have been realized.

There is peace for you at last, dear ones.

The Divine Spirit with gratitude for inspiration and the beautiful words.

PART I

Breaking Stone Walls

From whence cometh my love?

My breath, my dreams, my body and limbs,

In the depths of my soul I am bound to him.

When not in my arms, I still feel him near

Yet life is dreary without him here.

O, how my heart beats

As a rampant beast,

Whence I hear my lover’s voice at last.

Bear me up in thy arms so I might find

Thy kisses sweet, and heart and mind

Meld again together in ne’er ending bliss.

Oh, my Love how thee I miss.

Ne’er again build a wall against me,

But I shall build together with thee

A fortress of our love girded by the mists,

Of our fruitful Garden of Bliss.

From the Diary of Elise M.G. Barre

CHAPTER 1

Lil Buckaroo and Goober

Austin, Texas

Saturday, October 30, 1954

Benny Freeman put the flashlight under his chin, made an ugly face, and then switched it on, "Ooo-eeeee-ooo," he moaned in his best ghostly voice. The boys around the circle squealed and threw popcorn at him.

Stop it! Walter Rusk hollered. Giving Benny a hard shove, he added, You’re scaring Petey!

Benny took great glee in flicking the flashlight on and off and moaning much to the dismay of Petey Rusk. The young Cub Scout dove into his sleeping bag to hide.

Francis Barre giggled, "Hey, you just spelled out, ‘gaso’ in Morse Code with your flashlight. What the heck is that?"

Larry Camden made a loud farting noise with his hands. That’s Benny all right! The ‘gas man’. He roared with laughter and suffered a pillow thrashing from Benny.

Stop it, Mr. Freeman is gonna come out and kill us. Francis announced to the boisterous group. He glanced at his ‘Official Boy Scouts’ watch and, read the luminescent dots. Shoot. We were supposed to be asleep an hour ago.

Bobby Camden, his face sweaty and red from the pillow fight whacked Francis. Ah, who cares? Nuts to you, Barre! What are you, a tattletale? He stood up and pranced around the tent, I’m gonna tell … I’m gonna—

Shut up, Booby! Francis is right! Benny’s dad might pound us, Walter said, worried. He scrambled into his sleeping bag and covered up with the extra blanket. Maybe Francis is right. We should go to sleep.

Remind me never to invite you again! What a party pooper you are, Walter Schmalter! Benny flung his flashlight aside. Do we have any more marshmallows?

Larry tossed him the bag. Yeah, but what good are they? Your dad put out the fire. We can’t make any s’mores.

Benny stuffed a few in his cheeks and said, Thlook! I’m a thqwirrel! He made a squirrely face and got a round of laughs.

Bobby suddenly came behind Benny and with both hands pressed hard on Benny’s cheeks. Now you’re a spewing volcano! he guffawed as Benny spit out a soggy marshmallow onto Francis’s sleeping bag.

Francis quickly flicked it back, Oh sick! He looked down at his khaki green canvas bag, Hey! You got goo on my bag! Mom is gonna shoot me! Francis yelped, then grabbed his handkerchief and wiped it off. You know, I think we should turn off the flashlights and then—

Bobby crawled over and sat on Francis’s bag interrupting, And what? Pick each other’s noses? Come on, let’s do something fun. Got any toilet paper?

Francis pushed Bobby away. Get off. Your shoes have mud on them.

Bobby stuck out his tongue and crawled to his side of the tent.

Francis, sighing, resettled and said with a bit of annoyance, I was going to say, we could look at the stars. The night is really clear.

Larry crawled to the tent flap and looked out and up. Yeah! We can watch for spacemen from Mars! he said giggling. Hey, did you see that movie with the slime monster? Or the one with the mutant giant ants? They made a big colony in the desert and ate people and everything. He sighed and lay back to watch the sky.

What slime monster? Benny asked. You mean Booby the Booger Boy? He flicked Bobby’s ear as he crawled over to the tent opening and joined Larry on the ground.

Bobby made a face and farting noise. Sorry about your pillow, Benster!

Cut it out, Booby! Benny threw the bag of marshmallows at Bobby.

Francis wormed his way in next to Benny. Come on guys. Let’s see some constellations.

Oo. Mr. Wizard is gonna tell us all about the big balls of gas. Bobby farted again, this time for real and the boys groaned.

Yeah, and you’re one of them! Francis retorted. Hey, I like Mr. Wizard. We watched him this morning on TV. Pointing upward, he said, Look, over there is the North Star, Ursa Major, and look to the other side—

That’s Ursa Minor, Benny chimed in, pointing too.

How do you guys know this stuff? Larry asked, looking goggle-eyed at the younger boys.

Hey, we ain’t dummies, Benny said with pride.

Yeah. Don’t you ever read? Francis said snidely. And comic books don’t count.

Well, you know, Einstein was a retard until he was a genius. I read that in a book, Larry said in a serious tone. He rolled to his back to look upward into the cold, black sky.

Walter saw his brother Petey was asleep and then crawled to the group. There might be hope for you then, Retardo Bobby Camden. You are the only F student in our class. He sneered at the boy. Move over. I want to see too.

Walter suffered an elbow in the ribs from Bobby and ignored him. He sighed, gazing up. This is so neato-keeno. I love looking at the stars.

Me too, Francis commented.

Me three, Larry chimed in.

Yeah. Look how big it is. Do you think there are people on those stars? Benny wondered aloud.

Francis shook his head. No, because stars are balls of gas like our sun. But maybe the planets near them have people. I kinda think heaven is on one of those planets.

You’re a dodo brain, Franny. Heaven is in the clouds above the earth. Benny said with certainty.

No, it isn’t, said Francis. If it was, then we could see it with a telescope. No, it has to be a lot farther away.

My mom said that heaven is on earth, when we are happy and good. Then when things are bad, we are all in h-e-double-hockey-sticks. Walter quipped.

"Say it, stupid—Hell. Bobby elbowed Walter. Say it."

Hell. Walter said. Then he buried his face in his pillow. Now I said a bad word! Father Buchanan is gonna make me say my rosary like a million times. Walter moaned and punched Bobby in the arm. Jerk!

Hell isn’t a bad word, but the place is, Larry said with authority. Dad says it all the time.

Can we change the subject here? Francis sat up.

Yes. I’m hungry. Do we have any more wienies? Walter sat up too.

You are a weenie, Walter. Bobby crawled out of the tent. Hey, Fran, why don’t you get your pistol out and shoot us somethin’ to eat? The Freemans got squirrels. I saw their nest in the oak tree today.

Francis scowled at him. That’s mean and we’d have to use Benny’s BB gun. Besides, Mr. Freeman took away our caps. He said we made too much noise. I’d have to throw my pistol at something to kill it. He shrugged then said with authority, Besides, my dad said I am not allowed to point guns at anyone, people included, unless I’m gonna kill ‘em, and that is only in war. Francis shook his head. I would hate to be in a war. My dad was once. He’s got lots of scars to prove it.

Benny said proudly, Yeah, mine too. They were both fighting in France, except my dad went over on D-Day. He was a corporal and radio-man. He said that was the most important day of the war.

Yeah? Well my dad was a staff sergeant. He said the end of the war was the most important. Francis added proudly, My dad was the only guy to come home from his company. He was a hero and outlived everybody and has lots of medals. He believes our family’s lucky phoenix saved him.

Yeah? Big deal. When we blew up them Japs, my dad was in the air force and saw it. Walter commented.

Did not. Larry grunted. He was stationed with my dad at the same base in California. He stuck out his tongue and admonished Walter. Stop tryin’ to make yer dad better’n anyone else’s dad. He was only a lousy, sissy cook.

Walter rolled to ignore Larry. Mind yer own beeswax. My pop doesn’t lie.

Like a rug! Bobby added and everyone chuckled.

Benny intoned wistfully, I’d like a real machine gun, not my BB rifle, cuz we can only shoot at birds. He sat up and pointed his arms and fingers while pretending to shoot everyone, Brz-z-z-z-t! Yer all dead!

Francis made a face, sniping, Knock it off. You got in big trouble for killing those pigeons last month. That was bad.

Benny looked mutinous. Well, if you hadn’t been a tattletale—

Bobby let out a loud belch. Stow it losers! I’m hungry again. Hey! I wonder where Markie went. He said he had to go to the bathroom. He scrambled out of the tent and wandered over to the patio. He peeked through the glass door into the den, dark with only a flickering glow from the television. I’ll betcha he’s watching TV.

The boys trooped over to the door and pressed their faces to the cold glass, steaming it up.

Look! Bobby blew against the glass and inflated his cheeks. I’m a blowfish! He giggled.

Francis and Benny, the youngest of the quartet, made faces too. Then suddenly, there was Mr. Freeman before them sliding back the glass door, and emerging out of the dark.

What are you doing out here? He grumbled.

See? I told ya. Grinning, Bobby elbowed Walter.

Francis stepped up, We were looking for Markie. He’s been gone a long time.

Yeah. Is he watchin’ TV? I wanna watch a scary movie, Bobby pressed ahead of the group.

Tom Freeman stepped aside and let the boys in, counting heads. Someone is missing.

Petey is asleep in the tent Mr. Freeman, Walter said, turning back and pointing outside.

Well, don’t leave him alone out there, Tom commented.

We have to go to the bathroom, sir. Larry dancing about, grabbed his pajama crotch.

Tom sighed. Oh, go ahead then. He waved the boys through the den as they ran giggling to the bathroom then pounded on the locked door. Sh! Keep it down! he called after them.

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Tom stepped out on the patio and lit up a cigarette, exhaling the searing smoke into the cool night air. There wouldn’t be too many nights left like this before the winter sank in, he thought, as he gazed up at the stars. The cold wind soughing in the nearly bare trees, made the dark fluttering leaf shapes drift away on the breeze. The sky above, was velvet black, pinpricked with starry diamonds—a fine night for star-gazing. He envied the boys their youth, but then shivered as a cold finger of a breeze touched his neck.

He stepped out into the yard and checked the tent lines, making sure it wouldn’t blow over in the night and peeked inside. Petey was a humped shape in his sleeping bag. Tom switched off the flashlight the boy clutched in a fist.

Smiling, he left the tent and flicked his cigarette out into the yard, a small glowing ember arcing out into the damp grass. He stood with hands in his pockets, waiting for the boys. It was after ten-thirty and only he was awake in the house.

Connie and Susie had gone to bed a couple of hours before. Tom was the chaperone for the night making sure that the boys did not get into mischief. He yawned widely, the day had been long with many chores to do. Then the Halloween Party with the Cub Scout Pack was pandemonium in his opinion. He burped back the residual taste of grilled hot dogs, coleslaw and cake.

Connie had been a busy gal too, making a large chocolate sheet cake decorated as a ghost with white frosting and marshmallows. Then she created a batch of popcorn balls decorated with mallow pumpkin candies and candy corn. She and the kids had fun earlier in the morning decorating the house, carving a pumpkin and putting together the pumpkin piñata.

They had invited young Francis Barre from next door to come over for the weekend. He had jumped in with enthusiasm to help yesterday and today. His parents, Barton and Elise were on a little get away up to Dallas and would be back on Monday afternoon. Tom shook his head sadly, he knew with Bart, everything was about his business, so any trip was overshadowed by his oil company. Poor Elise, she deserved better.

Tom walked about the yard picking up blown trash and bits of papier mâché and yellow and orange crepe paper from the pumpkin piñata they smashed earlier in the evening. He popped a lemon-flavored gumball in his mouth and pocketed the cellophane thinking, I better check the lawn tomorrow for more candy, or we’ll have ants up the wazoo! He headed to the patio and tossed the detritus in the trashcan. He wondered where the boys were now. How long could it take to pee?

He smiled recalling his own time in the Scouts and the fun he had with his friends. He was glad that he had said yes after all, when Connie asked him for the party. He had pooh-poohed the idea at first but then after much whining on Benny’s part and a soulful look from young Francis Barre, he agreed.

Tom thought Francis was a good kid but too serious. He deserved a great deal more than what he got out of life. The Halloween party was a success in that Francis had a few hours to be a silly little kid with his friends.

Elise was overly protective of her son. Barton seldom seemed to pay much attention to the kid. Although surprisingly, Bart was often the first to say something about Francis, if Tom boasted overly much about his own son, Benny.

Francis was reading at the age of two, he was first in his class, first to earn badges, first to tie knots and blah, blah …

Tom felt a wave of irritation rise as he swept the barbeque ashes off the patio while waiting and thought that if Francis was his son, Benny would be a mere shadow to him. Tom loved Benny, he was a smart kid, yet was lazy. Although it was Francis, who kept Tom’s boy moving forward. Francis had a constantly engaged mind and equal amounts of energy for both boys. Benny only tried harder to keep up with him. Francis had earned several pins and more badges than Benny. He was a curious sponge. Tom had stepped in to help with the Pack thinking it might keep Benny active, as the boy lost interest in things so easily, especially if he wasn’t good at them. But with Francis at Ben’s side, they were becoming quite a pair, like little electrons, constantly whirling and twirling with energy, pinging off each other and gaining momentum.

Oh, what a temper Francis had—it was an A-Bomb when he let loose! He had seen much the same with Barton and had overheard it on many occasions. Barton Barre was a volatile substance. It was no wonder Francis went ballistic from time to time.

The child was such a perfectionist too, everything had to be just so. If it wasn’t, the child was often stymied. He wanted to continue yet there were times, Francis wanted to fix it all before he would do anything. The child was not a greedy kid either; he was humble, taking his due. He even shared his piñata candy with the youngest boy Petey, while the others fought for every piece like wolves on an elk. But Tom could see the boy craved attention and praise for he received few rarely from his own family. Bart seemed to think praise for the child only made him soft. He wanted Francis to be a man, not a sissy.

Like tonight, the pack of boys got into a heated discussion about their hotdogs. When Connie set the paper plate before Francis with the fully decorated dog wearing melted cheese, catsup and pickle relish, the boy nearly cried. He sat staring at the food all the while the rest of the boys were little gluttons nosily eating their dinner.

Tom caught the sour face and sat next to Francis with his own meal. He asked Francis if he wanted any pork and beans or orange gelatin salad and Francis glumly shook his head. He asked the boy if he wanted some punch and he shook his head. Then Tom looking about the group of wild little boys noticed that they were engaged in bantering discussions over which was the best way to make hotdogs and boasting about how many they could eat, so he nudged Francis. Hey, what do you think is the best way to make hotdogs? I haven’t put anything on mine yet. What should I do with mine? I like everything.

Francis eyed the plain hotdog on Tom’s plate. I only like mustard, the French kind. He said solemnly. He looked up at Tom with teary eyes to whisper, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be rude sir, but I don’t like my hotdog—you can have it if you want.

I see. I think I can find a buyer for your dog there Francis. I’ll be back. Tom swept the plate away and its offensive hotdog and offered it to his daughter Sue who grabbed it with glee. He returned with a fresh plate and a new plain hotdog. He plopped the mustard jar down before Francis and said, Here you go, I can’t let my little Buckaroo go hungry. Sorry it’s not the Dijon kind, he smirked and pointed at the label, "but it’s French’s mustard."

The young boy gladly took the new plate then delicately spread a thin layer of mustard on the bun and ate. He then took the other food offered by Connie and Tom with a genuine smile and soon joined in the banter around the table.

Francis was an odd little boy, but a very determined, kind-hearted and sweet kid. He actually played with Sue, which Benny rarely did. Last night Tom found Francis and Sue paired together, he was explaining to her about where she should hit the piñata so it would break.

Susie broke the piñata tonight much to the chagrin and disappointment of the boys, including Benny. Geez, the Barre kid was a little Einstein!

Tom whirled about when he heard shrieking and running feet, he opened the patio door and met with a rushing tide of damp boys. Why is everyone wet? Tom shouted and grabbed for a small body—it was Walter Rusk.

Walter’s brown hair was dripping; he rubbed his face and looked up frightened at Tom. It was Bobby who started it. I didn’t do it.

Tattler! Bobby yelled as he dove into the tent.

Francis slicked back a wet mop of rust-red curls. It’s true. There wasn’t enough room for everybody in the bathroom at once so we all were waiting our turns standing in the bathtub. After everyone was done, we had to wash our hands and Bobby mistakenly turned the shower on us.

I see and I suppose the bathroom is a mess now? Tom asked holding Walter and Francis each by a collar.

No, we cleaned up. Walter squeaked.

Let’s just go check then.

Tom led the pair into the bathroom and found it was damp but wiped down, however, there were two wet bath towels dripping from the towel rod onto the floor. Tom tossed them over the tub to dry. Thanks. Did you find Markie?

Yes, he was playing with Benny’s wind-up submarine in the sink. Francis admitted.

Tom shook his head resisting a laugh, Well come on, it’s past your bedtime. Your folks will yell if they know how late it is and you little guys are still up.

Mr. Freeman, I’m hungry. Walter chirped as they passed by the kitchen.

Tom grabbed up a bag of chips and a couple of bananas, Here, have fun. He dumped them in the boy’s arms.

Gee thanks. Walter’s eyes went wide. He began peeling the banana and handed the other to Francis. You were hungry too.

Francis and Walter were happily munching on bananas as they trooped out to the tent.

Tom went inside ready to set everyone straight. Okay boys, it’s sleepy-time for the little wolf pack.

Larry wolfishly howled and yipped but then dove into his sleeping bag at Tom’s dark look.

Yes, quiet time. He held his hand aloft requesting silence. Now, does anyone need anything else before I go inside?

Can you stay with us? Walter asked sliding into his sleeping bag. I heard there are wild dogs in this neighborhood. He commented.

Bobby snorted, There are not. What a big chicken! Besides, old sharp-shooter Franny can scare ‘em off. He left off in a wild case of giggling when Francis lobbed his banana peel at him.

Tom sat down on the circle of bedrolls. Smiling, he asked, No one is afraid to sleep out here, are they?

A chorus of no’s and some hesitant ones went around.

Tom smiled and easily read the remarks. I could sleep out here with you men … as long as none of you snore. He said jesting, I need my beauty sleep.

The boys giggled and made room for him in the tent. Yeah, you can sleep here, sir. Larry and Bobby called to him.

I’ll be back in a minute. I have to get my bag and pillow. Tom crawled out of the tent.

Bobby chimed, Yeah, and he has to ask his wife too. He wrapped his arms around his chubby body and made wet kissing noises. He ducked the barrage of pillows and thrown bag of potato chips. Hey! Chips! Neato! He grabbed the bag and took it with him into his sleeping bag.

The boys fought over the chips and the rest of the marshmallows and were once again rowdy when Tom reappeared. He ducked under the flap and threw out his bedroll into the middle between the poles. The boys quieted and settled down into their bags. He flopped down with a heavy grunt and thumped his pillow into submission then lay down. Goodnight Boys. Tom said sliding into his bag and rolling over to sleep.

The tent was dark and silent for several moments then a small voice asked, Are you gonna tell us a story?

No, it’s too late. Goodnight. Tom said gruffly.

But Mr. Elliot always—

Sh!

Can I have a—

No. Sleep. Tom commanded.

There were heavy sighs and small sniffles around the tent, and then quiet, prevailed until a boy let out a gassy pop!

Oh Benny! Phew! Tom and a few boys groaned and then everyone laughed.

Tom resettled in the bag, Let’s sleep … first one to sleep gets the most pancakes in the morning!

The boys giggled and some set to fake snoring but soon, the noise in the tent subsided. The cooing doves in the trees above lulled them all to sleep.

Francis lay awake fearfully watching the moving shadows on the sides of the tent blended with the scary sounds of the night: the wind and doves moaned like ghosts and the trees were skeletons shaking their bony hands. He rolled over in his sleeping bag, putting his head under the pillow, quickly said his prayers, and fell asleep, glad for the company of the boys and their guardian, Tom Freeman.

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Halloween―October 31, 1954

The early morning drizzle woke the boys. They scrambled squeaking like young mice from their warm beds into the house, ready for a potty break and starved creatures, eager for their promised pancake breakfast. Tom stayed to tidy the tent, rolling the bags while the kids made ready for breakfast.

He felt the cold dampness invade his bones, Lying on the hard ground in a sleeping bag is for the birds. I’m getting too old for this nonsense.

When they camped out, he and Connie slept on cots or air mattresses, no more ground camping. He rose up and put a hand to his back, feeling every one of his thirty-two years. He felt like the ‘Princess and the Pea’. There was a naughty little rock that had appeared in the night to bother him. Tom finished, went inside the house to warmth and the fragrant morning of bacon, hotcakes, warm apple cider and strong coffee.

He kissed his cute, pink-cheeked wife as she flipped pancakes on the griddle, hugging her close. Mm.

How was it last night? Connie asked as she then deftly removed crisp bacon to a plate. I hope they weren’t too hard on you. They came in here earlier screeching like monkeys, all full of piss and vinegar. She smiled at her husband as he nuzzled her neck.

Tom kissed her neck. I missed you of course. But I got ‘em corralled and shut ‘em up really quick last night.

Connie reached up and patted his scruffy cheek. I just bet you did. I missed you too.

Tom smiled warmly down at her, his blue eyes sparkled, I’ll be glad when the lot of them are gone. I want you all to myself.

Connie blushed, Um, I’d like that too, except we have the kids and our houseguest until Monday. She motioned with the spatula to Francis who was sitting at the counter staring across at them with a blank look.

Tom glanced at the Buckaroo Bronco pajama-clad child, Dang. Well, the Barres will get him back none too soon. It’s been fun. He’s a good little dude. He poured out a cup of coffee, patted his wife on the behind and scooted out of the kitchen with the plate of bacon, munching on a stolen piece.

Francis slid off the stool at the counter and followed Tom out to the dining room. Can I help with anything? he asked politely.

Tom was surprised but handed the boy a stack of paper napkins and plates, Here, put these out, then run tell everyone to get washed and ready to eat. Tom was glad the boy was there and not making a mess in the bathroom again with the others. Francis was such a quick and helpful sort, always too polite.

He patted Francis on the head as he passed by, "You get an Atta Boy for the day, kiddo. You got Moxie. He smiled back to see the boy beam a gap-toothed grin at him. He stepped back to Francis and lifted the boy’s chin, What happened to your tooth?" he asked worriedly.

Francis’s smile faded, his tongue slid into the space, I lost it last night. We were having a pillow fight and it fell out.

Tom now asked, Do you have it? We have to tell the Tooth Fairy you are staying with us tonight. he smiled warmly at him.

Francis looked askance at Connie who appeared at the doorway with two platters of steaming pancakes, Uh no, it’s probably in the tent somewhere. What’s the Tooth Fairy?

Did someone lose a tooth this morning? Connie asked after settling the hotcakes and came to put an arm around Francis.

No, last night. Francis said honestly. It didn’t hurt. I think I can still bite on this one side. He smiled up at Connie with his gap.

Connie fingered the space, With the other missing tooth and the one coming in next to it, you have a Jack-O-Lantern smile. It’s a good thing Halloween is today, no one will make fun of you. Perhaps the Tooth Fairy will visit you. She gave Francis a small hug and propelled him to the table, Go ahead and dish up.

Francis looked worried, But Mr. Freeman said I should tell the guys it’s time to eat.

Connie patted him, No, you start. I’ll tell them. She turned away and went to the doorway, Kids! Let’s eat! she hollered and came back to Francis wearing a smirk, Done. How about some warm cider with your hotcakes? she asked waving the pitcher above his mug.

Yes, Ma’am. Francis piled on the food and beamed again his sweet smile at Connie. You make really good pancakes Ma’am. He barely got the words out and there was a rush of sound and flurry of kids tramping into the dining room followed by Tom and Sue herding the boys like unruly goslings.

Tom smiled at Connie over the table, Do you remember that I said I wanted a ton of kids? He took a sip of his coffee, I think we have enough, he commented, winking at her. I’m glad that the wild bunch will be going home in a few hours.

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Later that evening, the Freeman children and Francis were readying for Trick or Treating in the neighborhood. They hurriedly ate their early supper and impatiently waited until the evening took on a rosy orange glow. Benny sliding his Superman mask over his face, bounced into the living room, Superman says it’s time to go! He tossed back his red cape then stood with arms akimbo, trying to look strong and super.

Tom sat up on the couch awake from his short nap and rubbed his face, Oh heck, it’s time. He said glancing at his watch. Where are your sister and Francis? he asked Benny then catching him around the waist as the boy ran in circles around the living room roaring ZOOM! Superman to the rescue!

I don’t know … they are in her bedroom, I think. Benny said squirming, wanting out.

Good heavens! You don’t need any more candy, you are wound up tighter than a watch spring. Settle down, Ben. Tom pulled the boy down to sit beside him. Let’s make sure you are ready. Do you have your flashlight? Your treat bag? he queried.

Check. Got it all Dad. I’m a Scout, I got everything. Ben quipped. Can we go now?

No, wait for your friend and sister. I’ll be back. Tom left the wriggling impatient child behind buzzing like an angry bumblebee.

Tom knocked on Sue’s door. Kids, are you ready yet?

In a minute, Daddy. Sue answered sweetly.

Is Francis in there with you?

Yes, Daddy.

What are you doing?

Nothing. It’s a surprise.

Tom fuming, leaned against the wall, Well your brother is about to go into orbit if you two don’t hurry it up.

Just a minute.

Sue timely to her word opened the bedroom door and peeked out. Her honey blond hair done in braids with blue ribbons and wearing a blue gingham dress and apron, she came out with a small basket. She wore old red sneakers with glued on glitter and adhesive red foil stars. She smiled up at Tom, Hi Daddy, I’m Dorothy.

Tom caught up in the cute costume put out a hand and shook, hers. I’m please to meet you Dorothy. If we don’t get a move on, Superman is gonna turn into a wicked flying monkey! he grinned down at his daughter. She was two years older than Benny and right now, she was the model child of feigned restraint as they patiently waited for Francis.

So what is Francis doing? Tom asked fidgeting wanting to get on with the night.

He is so special, Daddy. He thought it up all by himself when I told him I was Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Did you know that he actually read that book by himself already? Sue rose up on her toes in small glee as she talked about Francis.

Tom shook his head in mock amazement. Wow. He is a smart boy. I’m glad that you are getting along.

He’s a nice boy, not like Benny’s other nasty little friends. I like him. Lots. She poked about in her basket, Look, Francis made a little mask so I have a Toto dog. She smoothed the crayon colored mask held on with a rubber band over the toy. It’s really my stuffed kitty, Fluffy, but we turned her into a dog for Halloween.

That’s very clever. Tom commented drily.

Yes, very. She echoed patting the cat-come-dog into the basket.

Tom stifled a laugh, even his daughter was sounding like the stuffy prim little boy. He stood back when the bedroom door opened and Francis stepped out into the hallway. Well, well … is this the Scarecrow? he gave a small whistle of approval.

Hi. I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed some of the crepe paper from the broken piñata to make straw hair and your yard shirt. Do you think I got my face drawn on properly? Francis grinned up at Tom.

Tom clapped his slim shoulder, I’d say you look great. Wait until Connie sees you wearing her flower pot hat, she will just die laughing. He escorted them down the hallway to the living room.

Sue glanced aside at Francis You look swell Francis.

He smiled back at her and took her hand.

Connie stood up from the sofa and handed Sue and Francis each a paper shopping bag decorated with an orange paper pumpkin You both look terrific.

She stifled a laugh, Is that my hat? she asked Tom then motioned to Superman, Come on Ben get over here with your sister. I want a picture of everyone.

Ben jumped up eager and posed in front of the Oz pair. "Yeah, we look Super! he crowed and grinned as the flashbulb popped. Let’s go!" Ben raced to the door and yanked it open before anyone could recover from the flash.

Connie followed the trio to the front door with her camera, Have fun everyone. Be sure to watch both ways for the cars. She shook a finger at Ben, No running and no yelling Benny. Be a good boy.

Tom rolled his eyes, Oh that will do it. Bye, Honey Pie. I hope I return in one piece. Call out the Texas Rangers if we aren’t back in two hours. Squeezing her, he kissed his wife.

Connie stood on tiptoe and kissed him back. You are a brave man Tom Freeman. I think I will let Sue keep the hat. You are right, it does look like a flower pot! I’ll never doubt your fashion opinion again. She squeezed Tom’s arm as he shrugged into his jacket.

Sorry, it looks better on the Scarecrow. Tom laughed and suffered a swat from his wife. I owe you a new hat. See you later.

On a rush of evening wind, the kids and her husband left the house to go Trick or Treating, so Connie shut the door with a sigh of relief. Now she could have a drop of sherry and a few quiet moments before they returned! She checked the pumpkin on the windowsill—it was grinning madly with an orange, devilish glow. The candy basket was ready. Halloween was in full roar as a lion and tiger stamped up on her doorstep.

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Tom banged open the front door startling Connie. He elbowed his way in and dumped Susie on the floor beside him. Hi, we are home early! The walking wounded have returned. He ushered his daughter down the hallway.

Connie followed them to the bathroom worried, What happened to her and where are the boys?

Tom plopped the sniffling Susie on the toilet seat and knelt before her. Our girl took a little tumble over on Downey Street … you know that oak tree with the big roots? Well, she tangled with it. He smiled up at Connie and then inspected his daughter’s knees. Hand me some antiseptic and the washcloth, will you? he asked Connie.

Susie’s lip quivered, I know it’s gonna hurt, Daddy. She began crying anew as Tom gently wiped the skinned knees and her chin. Ow!

Tom glanced up at his daughter, Be a big girl Sue, let me clean this up and you will be good as new. He said and rubbed out some tiny bits of gravel and dirt from the wounds on her knees and palms. He dabbed the cotton ball with mercurochrome and swabbed the wounds. Hold on, just a bit more and we are done.

OW! It stings!

Connie held Sue’s hand as Tom blew on the wet dark red stuff running down her leg. You are doing fine, sweetie. Did you rip your dress?

I don’t think so. She plucked at the skirt then looked up. Mom, I didn’t get to finish, I could hardly walk. She took a great heaving sigh and whined, Benny’s gonna get more candy than me.

Candy is not important my love, you are. I’m sure you have plenty and Benny can share.

Tom and Sue answered readily at once, No, he won’t! They laughed together.

Tom put on gauze pads and the white medical tape around her wounded knees. Baby girl, you are all fixed. Now go with Mom and get changed for bed. He kissed her forehead and stood up.

Connie pulled up the sniffling Sue, then pushed the girl out of the bathroom. You didn’t say where the boys are.

Tom washed his hands, then dried them, Oh yeah, that. They didn’t want to cut their night short and come home with us. Benny begged to go down the other two blocks then promised they would come home.

Connie looked up alarmed, You let them go on their own? Tom—

Tom smiled and put a hand on her back. Relax, we met up with the Rusks. Ronald Rusk won’t let anything happen to the kids. Besides, I wanted to get back to you. He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis and swooped to give Connie a peck on the neck.

Connie waved aside the kiss as they heard the doorbell. You answer the door. It has been a real zoo tonight. I didn’t know there were so many kids around here. I’ll bet they’re from that new area by the school. I think someone has been dropping them off by busloads tonight.

Tom sprinted down the hall to open the front door as a pack of kids chorused Trick or Treat! He handed out lollipops and bubble gum and closed the door. He came back down the hall, Do we have any more candy? I gave out the last and I can hear more kids down the street.

Connie roughly jerked the nightgown over whimpering Sue’s head. Sorry, Hon. She glanced at Tom saying, I don’t think so. There are a bag of apples and little oranges in the pantry, maybe that will hold them off, she came to the door after kissing Sue. I’ll be back with a baby aspirin and some warm milk, it will help you sleep. She followed Tom out, I guess we could turn off the porch lights.

Yeah and some rotten little devil will throw eggs at the house. We better find something quick. Tom said worried as he peeked out the front window watching the shadows’ dark activity and the bobbing lights in the neighborhood. Hey, let’s make popcorn, we still got a bunch of those yellow treat bags left from the party yesterday.

Now yer thinkin’—I knew I married a smart man. Connie laughed and dashed into the kitchen to prepare the next group of treats.

An hour passed and the onslaught of black cats, ghosts, Frankenstein, Mummies, witches, cowboys, Lone Ranger and Tonto, devils and spacemen finally slowed. Tom and Connie sat in the living room snuggling on the couch enjoying the new peace.

There was a resounding bang at the front door and Benny burst in, Wowie! You shoulda seen me Dad, I was almost flyin’!

Tom sprang up and went to his son, Sh! Sue is asleep. Where have you been? Why are you breathing so hard?

I was runnin’. I was fast like Superman! Benny sang and flopped down on the floor tossing his overflowing bag on the carpet, he then began unlacing his hi-top sneakers. Whew! I am tired! Can I stay up to watch the monster movie tonight?

No, it is late and you just said you were tired, Benny. Tom commented and took away the damp malodorous shoes and the bag of candy. So I guess you had fun once Sue and I left.

Benny slipped out of the cape and came into the living room grabbing back his candy bag then proceeded to dump it on the floor. He quickly stuck a licorice whip in his mouth.

Ben! You are making a mess. Connie complained. Don’t eat any of that now!

But I’m hungry. He countered and bit off a big hunk before anyone could take it away.

Tom sat on the sofa next to Connie. So finish your story. Did Ronald bring you home? he asked the preoccupied boy.

No. Fran and me ditched them, ‘cause Petey got a blister and was crying. Walter was too hot in his Spaceman costume and wanted to go home. His dad said that was a good idea because Walter is a fatty and he doesn’t need more candy. Benny said with a laugh. He inspected his candy, sorting the chocolate bars, bubble gum and the jawbreakers into piles.

So where is Francis? Tom asked and bent to pick up two wayward peanuts. He cracked the shells and shared the peanuts with Connie.

Benny looked up surprised, He isn’t here?

Tom’s smile faded. He wasn’t with you?

There were some big boys riding around the neighborhood beating up kids and taking their candy. So, we cut through the park. He was far ahead. I thought Francis made it home before me.

Tom stood up and went to the hall closet whereby he pulled on his jacket again. No, he did not come back. Let’s go Benny. We must find him.

Connie rose up worried now. Benny, how could you lose him? You go find him now! Does he know his way back here?

I think so. We know the shortcuts through the park. Gee, I hope those goons didn’t get him. Benny worried now and put on his shoes again. I thought we dodged ‘em.

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Tom hurried Ben out to the garage and drove off with a roar, the Dodge wagon leaving a trail of exhaust through the dark neighborhood. They drove to Downey Park and pulled into the parking lot. They got out with their flashlights. Shouting for Francis, Benny led his father through the trails in the park, and past the duck pond. Tom searched extra hard scanning the ground for footprints, wondering if Francis fell into the pond. There were no signs. He followed along hollering for Francis. Where could that kid be?

Benny was stoic at first, boldly running ahead like an eager hunting dog, but now Tom could see his spirit lagging. The boy was growing afraid. Tom gathered his son in and they strode together searching the bushes, the picnic area and even the trash cans, thinking the boy might hide inside one. Nothing. No trace of the boy was left behind. They rested on a bench and Tom questioned his son again.

Who were chasing you?

Benny shrugged and rubbed his nose sniffling, I don’t know … they were big and mean, maybe high school guys. They had big bikes with three speeds too.

Oh man. Tom rubbed the back of his neck feeling a headache coming on. Do you boys have some place that you hide or play, maybe Francis went there?

No, we already went to the pond. We sometimes crawl under the arched bridge and play camp out, but he won’t go there at night.

Let’s check it, maybe he did go there. Tom filled with new hope urged his son off the bench, We have to find him.

He’s scared of the dark, Dad. He was really glad you stayed with us last night. Benny said thoughtfully.

Tom felt a new wave of remorse rise up and hit him in the gut with Benny’s revelation. Crud. Hurry up, Ben. The pair rushed to the footbridge. Tom went down on his hands and knees crawling through the tall reeds and weeds along the pond’s edge, growing angry anew as the wet soaked his jeans. He panned the area with the flashlight and saw movement in the weeds.

He murmured, Something is there … he drew in a breath fearfully and called, Francis? He drew back startled, as a dark, smelly thing rose up hissing at him, baring its spiky teeth and lunged.

Holy Crapola! Mother Mary! Run, Benny! Tom backed out quickly from under the bridge and stumbled over Benny. He grabbed him up around the waist and bolted onto the bridge, his feet thundering across the wooden planks. Oh God Almighty, that was close! Breathing heavily, he set his child down.

Benny looked up fearfully, What was it, Dad? A troll?

Tom exclaimed, Woo! It was a gigantic creature, then shook his head, but now that I think about it, it was probably a muskrat or raccoon. Glad it wasn’t a skunk! We woulda been sleepin’ in the garage tonight! He glanced shyly at his son, Scared the dickens out of me. It nearly jumped on me! Woo! he put a hand to his chest and breathed in a sigh of relief.

Oh, that was Old Goober, a possum. He lives under the bridge. Benny stated with nonchalance picking his nose.

You know the animal? Tom stared at his son. He swatted the boy’s finger away from his nose.

Yeah, Francis and I feed him. Ben said wiping his hand on his Superman tights.

Irritated now, Tom pushed his son ahead. I think you should leave him alone, he might have Rabies.

What’s Rabies?

Never mind. Shit. Tom groaned. So where else can we look for Francis? He asked as they returned to the car, they got in and shut the door. With his forehead against the steering wheel, he moaned, God, we have to find him.

I know Dad. Benny patted his shoulder. I think we should drive around the neighborhood. Maybe he fell down or something.

You tell me the streets you went on, maybe we can find some clues. Tom put the car in gear and pulled away from the parking space. He put on the high beams and searched the side streets and alleyways as they passed. After nearly another hour and passing along all of the streets in their neighborhood twice, Tom turned the car up the hill into the subdivision from the main boulevard. He sighed worriedly as they pulled into their driveway.

Tom ushered Benny into the house with leaden feet afraid to give Connie the news—Francis was missing!

Benny went to bed alone, whining, afraid for his friend. Now Tom had to call the police. He did everything he could to find the child. He prayed silently as he waited with Connie in the living room for the police to arrive.

Tom banged a clenched fist against his thigh, growling, Shit, I should have never left them. Damn that Ronald Rusk! He shouldn’t have let them go alone either! How could such a little thing go so very wrong? For heaven’s sake, they were only two blocks from home! He moaned and put his head in his hands.

Connie patted her husband. Wiping her tear-damp face with a hankie, she offered, I know, it’s my fault too. I should have taken Sue and you should have stayed with the boys. But I was so tired after the Scout weekend that I figured you could handle it all.

She flinched when Tom looked up at her wounded. I’m not blaming you … we are both at fault. She sprang up when she heard footsteps coming up the walkway. Hon, I think the cops are here. I am so scared. How am I going to explain this to Elise? She is my best friend. We have to live next door to them.

Tom rose up, Yeah, I hear you. Barton just might rearrange my body parts, and you’ll be picking up the pieces for weeks. Shit, I am scared too. He hugged Connie hard. Together they went to open the door to the Austin city police.

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The water gurgled nearby, the silent form with a sleek black head rose up dripping from it. The slinky body slid greasily from the water and shook itself, droplets landed on the sandy bank. The opossum trotted up onto land. It shook again and sniffing the night air it smelled something good … something sweet. It liked fruit. Following its nose, the nocturnal creature wound its way without a sound through the tall grass, reeds, and weeds towards the good scent.

His friend lay curled in the big weeds hidden under the wooden bridge. He never let the boy pet him, but he liked the food the boy brought him every few days. He let the boy feed him small bites. The other boy just threw the food at him. Sometimes it was meat, cheese or fruit. The other boy brought bread, but Old Goober liked it all. He shook his rat-like naked tail, rattling the reeds, wanting to announce his presence. He smiled his best, wanting a treat. But the boy was still. Old Goober slunk to the boy wondering why he was here and why he didn’t talk to him or offer food.

Old Goober Possum still shook with fear. The Big Man had scared him alright, yelling in his face and stomping around with his big feet. Possum took to the water to hide. He caught some minnows and a wee frog and ate them while he waited for that Big Man to leave his bridge and the pond.

Possum pawed at the boy’s hand and sniffed it. It smelled sweet. This boy always smelled like fruit and the other boy smelled like bacon, which he liked too. Bacon. He knew bacon. He ate it often from the trashcans in the neighborhood. He also liked the dog and cat food people left out for their pets. Sometimes those pets shared their food with him, and sometimes they ran him off. But right now, he was worrying over his friend and not particularly hungry.

He sniffed the curly hair and found a bunch of soggy paper. He chewed on the paper and tore some away for his nest. Goober liked paper. He chewed on a few other things. Taking care not to bite his young friend, he chewed on the cloth. There was a big bright flower, he chewed that, but it tasted like the paper. He found a hidden place full of paper-wrapped things and he could smell sweet things there, so Old Goober chewed a hole in the boy’s pocket and gnawed on the things he found.

There was something crunchy and tasty. He liked peanuts, the other boy fed him peanuts sometimes. But these peanuts had something sticky and gooey on them. He washed his face and drank some water to get rid of the gooey stuff. He chewed on something else sweet and too hard like a rock and spit it out. He nibbled on the paper stick instead, liking it. Old Goober sat back feeling satisfied that he had found a small cache of good tasting things. He picked up a few pieces in his mouth and carried them away to his nest hidden up under the trestles of the wooden bridge. He searched in the dark to make sure no one saw him hide his things there and then turned away to return for more treats.

The boy was making noise and he moved a long leg. Goober darted in and grabbed up another mouthful of candy and paper from the torn pocket. He scooted away quickly and ran for his hidey-hole. He squirmed inside and hid his treasure. He curled about in the nest and poked an inquiring nose out studying the boy again. It was coming awake.

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Francis sat up feeling groggy. He felt his head, there was a knot on it, no, two lumps and his hand came back wet and slick with blood. He swooned and flopped on the sandy bank crying, feeling miserable. After a while, he crawled to the water’s edge and felt as if he might throw up. He splashed some brackish water on his face and lay with his head on the cold ground. It was almost as good as the cool, porcelain toilet in their bathroom, making his dizzy head feel better.

He shivered as the night air seeped through his damp clothes. He wondered how long he would have to stay here.

Were those boys still out there?

Three big kids had chased them into the park. Francis had hit one boy with his candy bag, it had exploded like the pumpkin piñata showering candy everywhere. He had not looked back wanting the advantage of his misfortune to keep him ahead of the gang. He had heard Benny yelling, and wasn’t sure what it was about. But then suddenly, everything exploded and all he saw were fireworks in his head and then darkness.

He glanced at his watch trying to make out the blue-green dots, was it nine or a quarter of midnight? He couldn’t tell by the dimly lit hands. sighing, he sat up and made to figure out where he was.

He heard the gurgling water and knew it must be near the duck pond; he could smell them and hear their distant sleepy murmurs. There was something else nearby. Francis stared into the gloom, hearing a squeaking and scratching noise. Two eyes glittered out of the darkness at him, and he shivered now in fear. He scanned the ground wondering if he left anything, then crawled on hands and knees through the reeds out from under the bridge.

He was truly afraid now. The park was inky dark and eerie in its quietness, the lamp posts near the parking lot were set too far apart to give him much light. He walked along a shrub-lined cinder pathway, cautiously watching for the gang or any other scary thing that might be hiding in the dark night.

He startled when a sudden crazy laugh echoed through the night, but then felt a little silly, remembering that there were owls and loons in the park. Small scurrying and scratching noises in the bushes nearby urged Francis to a faster pace. Everything around him was scary and worse than the carnival spook house he went to earlier in the week with Benny. Now he wished he had dressed as a gun-slinging cowboy as he had planned and not as the Scarecrow. If he had his pistol, at least the caps might scare the ‘boogey men’.

His stomach rumbled loudly. Francis knew he was hungry. All that running earlier had worn off his soup supper. He now wished he had not thrown his shopping bag full of candy at the boys. He felt in his pockets, for he had put some candy in there earlier. His hand went through one pocket in a big hole! He found one lonely wrapped jawbreaker in there and he popped it in his mouth, mm … cherry, his favorite flavor. He sucked hard on the pea-sized candy feeling his mouth water and thirst ebb away. He felt in the other pocket of the oversized ragged jeans and found he had more candy there. He pulled out a thumb-sized packet of Necco candy, and opened the waxed paper to pop a couple wafers in his mouth. Yum, licorice and lemon. Francis sucked on the candies as he scurried along, eagerly wanting to leave the park.

He knew every inch of this place, but that was in the daylight. He had never been here at night except with his parents last Fourth of July for a firework show and picnic. He had not been afraid then. Screwing up his courage and quivering lip, Francis continued on, now stepping out under the lamplight onto the main pathway through the park. He passed the picnic tables and trash bins eyeing them warily as if a ghost or the bad kids would pop up! He swallowed hard, bravely taking the path