Eleven Broken Pencils

By V Schroeder

'ELEVEN BROKEN PENCILS' by V. Schroeder relates story of one dysfunctional family's struggle against secrets and truth


FORRESTO N, Ill. - Every family is different in its own ways, has its own share of troubles and treads through various paths to resolution. Yet no matter how tough the going gets, it is comforting to know that there are people to share one's stories with. This tacit privilege and the reprieve that comes with it, cements bonds in family relationships. So what happens when secrets gradually morph a family into strangers? In "ELEVEN BROKEN PENCILS" author V. Schroeder tells a poignant story that tells such struggle in a world still void and innocent of the savage truth.

"ELEVEN BROKEN PENCILS" follows the story of an extremely dysfunctional family in the 90s. The tragic death of a mother reunites the family together. Speculation runs about the cause of her demise: suicide?

Undiagnosed mental illness? Before the dawn of the new millennium, talk of bipolar disorder or subtle mental illnesses is almost unheard of. A shocking revelation opens a Pandora 's Box of life-altering family secrets. This cleanses their troubled souls and brings them back to each other' s am1s. Myrna, the mother figure of the family, has yearned for this. Now, they all realize how self-inflicted guilt is much worse than confessing their decades- long secrets.

Presented in a superbly insightful tirade on love and life, "ELEVEN BROKEN PENCILS" exemplifies how openness is essential to building a strong and unified family. It exalts on the significance of acceptance within as a fom1 of validation of existence and identity. It imparts how, no matter what kind of family one does have, the most important treasure of all is the love earned from sharing - the security and sense of belongingness found in the bond of mutual devotion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781733587662

Book preview

Chapter 1

Final Call

Colorado State Police cars are parked on both sides of the narrow, snow-laden mountain road. An ambulance and park rangers with bloodhounds fill the snow-packed ditches and any free space between lanes. Three of Myrna’s five grown children are standing around, waiting for answers, along with their father Marvin, Myrna’s husband. They huddle close for warmth after intermittently walking over to any displaced officer, trying to overhear any remarks about their mother.

These four grievous family members had relentlessly made this same repetitive trip of over two hundred miles, each way, each week for the last month and a half to help search for their missing loved one.

Two other children, Elizabeth, the middle child with a family of her own, and Nancy, the youngest of Marvin and Myrna’s brood, couldn’t make the trip to the mountains: too far a distance, job commitment, family, maybe just fear.

This final call came, mercifully, after weeks of searching the area for Myrna when a car that fit the description of Myrna’s, was seen traveling west out of Nebraska on January 3, 1995. Now, presumed dead, hounds and forest rangers scoured the rough terrain with only an abandoned car and initialed gloves left behind. This call, sounding urgent, gave Marvin all indications that something had been found. He had remained hopeful until now.

As Katheryn, Myrna and Marvin’s oldest child, begins learning some of the facts, she is left dumbfounded. Her disbelief shows on her face and echoes through her voice as she speaks to Lilly and Gregory, her siblings, They say she scattered her few articles of clothing up into the lower branches as if to conceal her whereabouts. She was found holding on to a large portfolio, taped tightly shut with duct tape—all our names are on it. The authorities have it. Maybe it will tell us what in the world went on here. What was going through her mind?

She must have lost it, Gregory, Myrna’s only son, says, Her mind, I mean.

State Police Sergeant Michaels walks over to the trio with their father, Marvin, in tow. "Watch him. He seems to be a little shaken. This is a lot to grasp. He has made a positive identification. The body recovered is that of Mrs. Myrna Marks.

Take him home. We will get back to you when we finish our investigation. In the meantime, I will need someone to give me the name and address of your funeral director for notification … I am sorry for your loss.

Everyone looks at each other. Disbelief and shock shroud each mind and face, unable or afraid to answer his request.

Finally, Marvin blurts out, Heflin Funeral Home in Hayes Center, Nebraska, 220 West Second Street.

Thank you, sir, the sergeant says and turns to walk away.

Thank you, Officer, for helping us, Katheryn calls out with tears running down her face, taking a step closer to him.

As he replies, Just doing my job, he wipes her tears with his kerchief and replaces it in his chest pocket. Is there anything else I can do?

No, we will go home and make our arrangements. Thank you, Katheryn says, lowering her chin back into her scarf.

Hey, Officer, Lilly yells, don’t forget about us! Give us some answers on what happened here. We’re pretty much left in the dark. We need to know why she was found way up here, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of winter. Don’t forget about us.

I won’t. Drive carefully.

The three children carefully, yet quickly, escort their father back to Greg’s car. The cold and shock are taking their toll on everyone. As they enter the silent car, the barking of the hounds is the last sound they hear while slamming the doors shut.

A moment of compete silence and the inability to move overcomes all four occupants. Finally, Greg fumbles for his keys.

Yeah, let’s get this damn thing warmed up! an agitated Lilly exclaims. I’m freezing my ass off! Let’s get the hell out of here!

This is Lilly—brash, candid, little rough around the edges but a good, loving daughter. As second oldest, thirty-nine and a half, approaching forty, still single and ambitious, she refuses to be too ladylike. She is tall like her father. Her slim build, brown bobbed hair, and green eyes are kept plain. Makeup-free and rarely wearing skirts, she has no concern of what others think of her. Slacks and jeans are her statement. She is Lilly Marie Marks and no one else. Unpretentious is an understatement, and, as she approaches forty, there doesn’t seem to be time to change her, if anyone dared. She lives alone, away from her parents in the next county, forty or so miles away, but visits often.

As the car makes its way back onto the interstate, each shares information that was overheard from the officers. Some details are purposely omitted because of concern for their father and his obvious shock.

One ranger said Mom had put her soiled clothing up under the bows of the evergreen tree. Why would she do that? Katheryn asks.

"Yeah, and then she traveled up the ravine, not down like most lost people," Lilly adds.

They said she acted like she didn’t want to be found, Greg says. The sheriff said the only note they found was for anyone to read, and it simply said ‘Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.’ They think it was a calculated suicide, not an accident. Do you really think our mother could be capable of something this bizarre?

No! comes a resounding reply from Lilly.

I think she must have gotten really sick and we just didn’t see it. I don’t understand how we, how Dad, could have missed the signs, Katheryn mournfully replies.

Yes, Greg agrees. But Mom was always hiding her feelings and ailments from us and Dad. She never wanted that much attention. She was always doing for us. Maybe she really did let herself and her mind go. Maybe she had some terrible disease and didn’t want us or Dad to have to go through it with her. I don’t know. I just can’t believe this is happening to us.

Maybe she was trying to hint, but we didn’t pick up on it, Katheryn adds.

She has been missing for ten or eleven weeks. Her beloved cat is being cared for, she saw to that. She knew Dad could care for himself and her kids are raised, Greg says, as he tries to piece things together. "What we don’t know is if she has seen a doctor lately. Seems to me, she planned this whole thing. She even had a wig on when they found her. The authorities didn’t even think it was her at first. She was craftier than we thought. But why?"

Or, Lilly adds, she could have been driving to a legitimate place and got lost in the snowstorm. It happens all the time.

Well, Katheryn adds, we have a huge pile of papers to go through. Maybe she wrote what she was thinking. Hopefully, she tells us why all the mystery, why she didn’t turn to one of us.

This is Katheryn, the oldest of the Marks’ five children, educated with a business degree and heads a very successful insurance company. She is built more like her mother, larger boned with very dark hair, hazel eyes, and a bit overweight. Her clothes always make a statement, neat and well groomed. She, too, is single and, at forty-one, seems to be too busy for relationships or marriage. Always calculating everything, she strikes most as a very intelligent woman. She lives in a nearby big city and dutifully makes time for her parents. She, too, is a good daughter.

A mile or two goes by in silence. Everyone is struggling for recovery from the shock of their life.

Marvin finally breaks down, sobbing loudly, It’s all my fault! She was trying to tell me she didn’t love me anymore, but I wouldn’t listen! I should have left when she first asked me to months ago. She wanted it done with by Christmas so you kids wouldn’t feel so bad around the holidays. She just wanted to be alone, she said. She wanted a life that she felt was the best for her, not somebody else. I don’t think she was sick. And I don’t think she was insane. She has been through so much in her life, always doing for others, putting her desires on hold for another time. And I was too selfish to allow her to have a life of her own. I just should have left, but I couldn’t.

As his sobs increase with the most mournful sound his children have heard, strangulating shock and disbelief prevent anybody from speaking.

He gasps for breath and continues, She reassured me we would still be friends. We would still spend the holidays with all you kids. I just wasn’t brave enough to start a new life without her. Now I’m forced to and I don’t have her as my friend. Marvin sobs pitifully, burying his face in his hands.

His three children sit motionless, again dumbfounded.

What? How could you two talk about this without telling us? Lilly screams. How could you keep this a secret? Her anger bursts out like a cannonball.

Lilly, calm down, Katheryn calmly speaks. Dad is trying to tell us the best he can. Mom was always secretive when it came to herself. We need to understand, these two are not like us. They always tried to shield us from pain and hardship. They loved us and thought they were doing the right thing. Please, try to understand.

Yes, Mom always did the work, always had the holidays, always did the cooking and cleaning, and made sure we all were happy. Did we ever, just once, ask her if she was? Greg asks.

With that question, everyone again quietly thinks of his or her own shortcomings toward their mother. Tears fill their eyes as guilt fills their hearts. Several miles pass as questions as to how and why their mother has died, alone, up in some mountain pass, ravage the minds of the distressed passengers.

How could she have driven off that mountain pass and not injure herself enough to remain in the car? Greg asks.

Come on, Lilly pleads, do you really think she planned this? So you really believe Mom could commit suicide? I don’t. She was so religious.

Katheryn quickly adds, I can’t believe one of us didn’t see any signs or feel something was wrong. I was with her before Christmas, shopping and planning the meal. She seemed so excited. The grandkids were her big source of fun. And, Dad, she never said a bad word about you.

Of course not! Greg exclaims. She knew we would have a fit. She was always trying to be the happiest, the sweetest, most perfect person for everyone.

Well, I’m concerned with what the police said, Lilly interrupts. The fact that they think she calculated all this, that she hid her clothes and disguised herself totally confuses me. Maybe she slid off the road and hit her head badly enough to lose her memory. We need the autopsy results. We cannot let them paint a bad picture of Mom. We all can attest to her wonderful mood at Christmas. She was full of life and love. There is no way she planned any of this.

Marvin remains silent. Suddenly, the car starts to slide. Shrieks of fear fill the car until Greg gets the car straightened out and back on the road.

It was just a patch of ice. We’re all right, he assures.

I wonder if Mom had to feel fear like we just did, Katheryn says.

I hope not, Lilly adds. I hope she was in her own little world thinking she will be found soon.

I wish I could believe that, Greg presses. But the way she was found and what she apparently did before she died worries me.

What do you mean what she did before she died? Lilly asks.

Well, Greg responds, she climbed up the hill and sat in the snow, waiting to die. And why would she put a wig on? That right there says she tried to hide her identity.

Not necessarily, Lilly defends. She could have bought the wig, thinking she would need it while she was traveling. Then when she went off the road, she put it on for warmth.

But, Katheryn adds, "why did she scatter her clothing in the trees and not leave them in the car? Why didn’t she leave any identification in the car? And why did she head up the ravine instead of down toward town and help? The preliminary findings, according to one of the cops, say she did not hit her head in the car or anywhere—she intentionally chose to be hidden."

Marvin finally breaks his silence.

She planned it, I’m sure of it. When she told me she was going on a bus tour for a few days, I never questioned her. She insisted on taking her car and leaving it at the YWCA so she could come home immediately and not wait for me to pick her up. I thought she needed space and independence, so I said OK. I never once checked to see if her car was still in the lot or if there even was a trip. I thought she needed to get away after the holidays. I should have checked. If I would have, I would have known there was no trip. Who leaves on a bus trip on New Year’s Eve? Maybe we could have stopped her on the road before she did this. I know she was trying to get away from me. I told you, I drove her to this.

Again he sobs. Katheryn puts her arm around him and comforts him.

Dad, you did no such thing. Mom had a reason and we will get to the bottom of this. When we get Nancy and Elizabeth with us, we will read what is in that portfolio. We will have answers, I promise. The officials in Colorado will help all they can. And your attorney can get involved too. He will make sure nobody pulls the wool over our eyes. It will be all right, Katheryn says, trying to sound convincing.

But there are so many questions and so many weird things. How will we ever get all this figured out? Marvin asks.

Dad, it will take time, lots of time. We have to be patient and support each other. Nobody is to blame, Greg offers over his shoulder, looking directly into his father’s eyes.

Hey! Lilly yells. Keep your eyes on the road, Greg! We already had one close call.

Don’t worry about my driving. I’m in control, Greg snaps back.

This is Gregory, the Marks’ only son. He is a rugged, hardworking, blue-collar jock. Divorced, with a son of his own, he never took responsibility for contributing to his divorce. He is a bit of a crybaby with a short temper. Tall and bleached-blonde, he is an attractively built thirty-six-year-old. His mother had been accused by his three older sisters of covering for him and protecting him from taking the lumps he deserved. He is more spoiled that his younger sister, Nancy, or so say Katheryn, Lilly, and Elizabeth.

Again, silence fills the car. Greg reaches over to turn the radio on. At that moment, the news comes blaring back at him about a woman’s body being found in the mountains. He quickly switches it off.

Did you know that the gloves the police found in Mom’s car were the ones I gave her for Christmas? he asks. They had her initials on them. A tear spills down his cheek.

Oh no! Marvin moans.

Lilly, not wanting Greg to receive any more sympathy, quickly changes the subject. I just can’t believe we are here, she says. "This is not supposed to happen to us, a normal family. What must people back home be thinking? I’ll bet the gossip is rampant. We have to have a statement read. We can’t just let them say what they want. Think of all