Return of the Owl: Potent Signs

By Garland Ladd

Preface

This story is about the tribulations experienced by a typical American family during a one year period. As is often the case, the root cause for the Flynn familys conflict was the sin of passion.

Two questions plead for answers. Does a typical family actually exist? By definition, typical means: Conforming to the essential features of a species, group, and class, pattern of action or behavior. Therefore, we can recognize similarities between families but each is atypical because of the unique personalities in each family, and also the diverse circumstances in which they live. We can further assume that no two people will react precisely the same to a given stimulus.

A corollary question is: Can a truly unique event occur? By definition, unique means: Being the only one of its kind. A debater could claim uniqueness for any given event because circumstances were slightly different from all similar preceding events, or because the people who participated were unique.

After considering those moot questions and counterpoints, one can assume there is nothing new under the sun. Every thought or action that man can initiate has probably occurred sometime during the history of mankind, with only minor circumstantial and personality differences. Therefore, no thought, event or action in an overall sense is totally unique. Conversely, every thought or action can claim uniqueness because of the uniqueness of individuals and their varied reactions to the same stimulus. It is claimed that no two snowflakes are identical, thus possessing uniqueness. Cannot the same be claimed by people?

The foregoing is a caveat that actions of the Flynn family in this novel are both typical and atypical as they deal with happenstances that seemingly take control of their fates. Bizarre behavior and highly unusual situations create an intriguing year for the Flynns, with unexpected twists and surprises that border on being unique by any definition. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously for plot enhancement and reality. Resemblance to actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 5, 2007
• ISBN: 9781462839742

Garland Ladd

Ladd became hooked on writing fiction after retiring from a successful career as a Professional Engineer. This is his seventeenth published novel and he finds the creative process highly intriguing — to wit, his hobby. Developing characters and plots, and describing human interplay satisfies his inner urge to build something from nothing. He typically writes before the rooster crows, and then it’s off to the golf course. Ladd is a veteran of WW 2 and has a BS degree in Mechanical Engineering from Virginia Tech, Class of ’51. With his wife, Sara, they live in Winston-Salem, NC. They have three children and three grandchildren.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Getaway

Janet stared at the bedroom ceiling, with a nightlight allowing her to distinguish major objects in the room. Nathan, her husband lying beside her, snored lightly but that hadn’t kept her awake all night long. Solemn thinking about this day about to dawn had. It would be the most important day of her life, and the Flynn family’s world would turn topsy-turvy. Her plan was perfect—a plan she had developed over the past eight months—and timing was crucial. All stars aligned perfectly today for its execution, and her mindset said, Go.

Janet’s twenty-one year old son, Tyler, would return that afternoon from a week of R&R at Myrtle Beach with three of his college friends, all having received Bachelor degrees from Carolina a week earlier. She rued that she and Nathan couldn’t do more to reward Tyler for obtaining his Business Administration degree in three years. A trip abroad or a ten day cruise would have been more fitting, but limited resources reigned. Money would be even tighter after she departed because Tyler was determined to return to Carolina and get a Master’s degree. That expense and properly rewarding Tyler would be Nathan’s problem, although she would help in absentia.

Tyler’s 3.7 college grade point average confirmed what Janet already knew. He was a brilliant and level-headed young man, and had taken a heavy course load for three years to save his parents a full year of college costs. His dedication and stamina to obtain a good education, coupled with working during summer breaks, had eased the financial strain on the Flynns. More importantly to Janet, Tyler had an innate kindness and warmth, and everyone loved him. Tyler would do just fine without her, she thought, and mentally patted her own back for raising such an outstanding young man. He would excel in business or industry, and Janet longed to take an active part in his assured success. It just wasn’t in the cards, and that reality brought tears to her eyes.

Cindy too was a source of pride for Janet. Cindy had just completed her junior year of high school the day before, with excellent grades, and she had not caused her parents a minute of trouble. Thoughtful and sweet by nature, Cindy had become the fine young lady Janet had hoped she would be. To celebrate the end of the school year, Cindy and about a dozen friends had partied the night before at a friend’s home. Janet had given her a midnight curfew and even stayed up to check on Cindy before retiring. Clear-eyed and no smell of alcohol on Cindy convinced Janet that her celebration evening had been innocent fun for well behaved young students. After Cindy recited the games the group had played, and the tasty food they had consumed, Janet hugged her to make sure. Cindy hugged back without showing a trace of guilt or evasiveness. Janet suggested that Cindy could sleep until noon the next morning as a reward for becoming a rising senior with an outstanding record. Senior status comes with perks, you know, Janet added.

"Gee, thanks, Mom! Cindy replied gratefully, but with a hint of surprise in her voice. Twelve undisturbed hours of sleep was unheard of in Janet’s home—slothfulness she did not tolerate.

The thought of leaving Cindy cut Janet deeply. A girl’s senior year of high school cries out for a mother’s presence to help with college applications, selecting a dress for the senior prom and all the other things necessary for an intimidating fall entry into college life. Janet took solace in the belief that Cindy was mature for her age and would assume the woman-of-the-home role in her absence. Tears formed again in Janet’s eyes, and she said a special prayer asking that Cindy too would have a happy and productive life.

A secured future for Janet’s two children depended largely on Nathan’s health. His congestive heart failure could take him out tomorrow, or he could live thirty or more years from proper living habits and meticulous use of his medications. Nathan’s iffy health status couldn’t dictate the timing of her departure. Fate is a fickle bedfellow and Janet believed in taking charge of fate, or at least influencing it. She sealed her fate nearly a year ago and now fate’s fickle fingers would reach out and touch her unsuspecting family in horrible ways.

Janet loved Nathan, who had been a faithful partner for twenty-two years. However, his laid-back attitude about life had been a source of conflict between then from the start, but no more so than Janet’s impetuousness and boundless energy. It couldn’t be capped, but she had tried. Nathan on the other hand, had only one speed—implacable to the energy and drive of others.

In the sobering stillness of that moment, Janet admitted internally that their marriage had been successful by most standards, and Nathan simply didn’t deserve the fate that awaited him. Likewise, she didn’t deserve full blame for this fateful day in their lives. Her character traits were the true culprit; she could not change any more than Nathan could, and her traits had betrayed her in a weak moment.

A digital clock on her bedside table blinked 4:33 AM, and she mouthed silently, Not a minute of sleep tonight but my body rested from the heavy cleaning of yesterday. Only one more question to answer and I’ll get up.

In a private conversation with her inner soul, Janet asked, Can I do this? Do I have the guts? Is my plan the best way out of a horrible situation? With eyes tightly closed, she visualized luminous answers blinking on the ceiling, just like the digital readout clock had told her the time.

Yes I can and I have the guts. Being gutsy and having a keen mind is my forte—describes me well. Yes, my plan will have a softer impact on my family than staying here and toughing it out. Also, it will be easier for me in the long run.

Janet got up, dressed quietly and went to the kitchen.

Chapter 2

By 6:30 AM, Janet had prepared the main courses for three evening meals. A pot roast with boiled potatoes, carrots and string beans cooled on a platter, and two apple pies baked in the oven. A large tossed salad in the crisper would serve at least three meals for her family. Her shopping of yesterday included eggs, cheeses, milk, sandwich spreads, cookies, bread, and enough canned goods so they wouldn’t have to leave the home for a week during the initial stage of their impending crisis.

While waiting for the food to cook, Janet had thoroughly cleaned the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. Two loads of clean laundry waited in the Utility Room for folding and placing throughout the home. Floor mopping of the guest bathroom followed cleaning the tub, toilet bowl and lavatory. Cindy and Tyler shared that bath through connecting doors, and Janet wanted it spotless for Tyler’s return. Yesterday, she had given the rest of the house the most thorough cleaning that she could remember in recent years.

Within the next few days many people would likely come there—strangers, friends, coworkers—and undoubtedly the police. None of them would leave thinking that she was a sloppy housekeeper. Furthermore, her sweet children and incapacitated husband wouldn’t have to worry about dust, grime, mold and disarray for at least a week. The home would be immaculate before she departed.

The Flynn’s three bedrooms, two and a half baths, one story brick home did not appear impressive from the street, but Janet was proud of the way she had single-handedly furnished and maintained its interior. A reflection of her energy showed in the walls she papered and painted, in the drapes she had sewn, and in all the other decorative touches she had given the home during the past twenty years—a do-it-yourselfer on a limited budget. Her stamp was definitely on the home, and more importantly to Janet, on her two beautiful children.

She heard Nathan showering at seven-thirty—a good sign that he felt well enough to work today. Even so, it would be a traumatic time for Janet when he left for work. She set a place for Nathan at the table, and put the morning paper there for his reading. Today shouldn’t seem different from all the others, she thought. Next she pored herself a cup of coffee, sat at the table and sipped it while reviewing her check list and rehearsing the final words she would say to Nathan. Pity for him caused tears to form.

Good morning, honey, Janet cheerfully greeted Nathan as he entered the kitchen. Would you like something special for breakfast today? Omelet, waffles or hotcakes—just name it.

Nathan grinned. Special? Did you forget my birthday, or perhaps have another fender bender?

Nothing like that, dear, just trying to be nice to my great husband. Pour your coffee and I’ll make you a tasty Western omelet.

Their breakfast time together went super, Janet thought, and she avoided having a teary outbreak. Fortunately this day hadn’t begun with Nathan feeling ill and in a down mood. That would come later, and Janet prayed that it wouldn’t destroy him.

When Nathan left for work at 8:45, Janet tenderly hugged him—not an every day occurrence. Smiling, she said, Honey, I’ve been cooking since five o’clock and have enough food prepared to feed us for nearly a week. Everything is labeled, and I’ll leave a note explaining if items are in the fridge or freezer. I suggest that you use the pot roast platter tonight. Tyler returns this afternoon and it’s one of his favorites.

Sounds good to me, Nathan replied, and continued, That’s right, you’re working late tonight. What time may we expect you? He seemed unsuspecting that anything was amiss.

Dennis will require that I stay until his board members leave, and then clean up their mess. They usually play poker after the board meeting, guzzle the booze, and expect me to furnish warm snacks about ten. They could stay as late as midnight, which puts me finished with clean-up after one A.M. If it’s that late, I’ll sleep over—don’t like driving alone at that hour. If I don’t call you by ten tonight, assume that I am sleeping over. I’ll go in about noon today, and likely will not return until tomorrow afternoon. So, give me a juicy kiss and go sell a ton of new cars!

Nathan complied but his hug wasn’t nearly as energetic as Janet’s. Her irregular work schedule interrupted normal family life, but Nathan coped with it grudgingly. It allowed her flexibility to attend to the children’s needs, and to stay with him during his sick times. Additionally, Dennis paid her good wages, which had made the difference in Tyler gaining an excellent education without having to borrow huge amounts against the future. Janet’s eyes moistened again as she watched Nathan’s car leave the driveway. She whispered, Forgive me Nathan, and I really do love you.

During the next three hours, Janet folded and returned clean laundry to closets and dressers. After unloading the dishwasher, the kitchen floor got a mopping, followed by setting the table for her family’s evening meal. Next, she cleaned her bedroom and put fresh linens on their bed. Before pulling the spread up on Nathan’s side, she placed a sealed manila folder on the pillow. There was no evidence of its presence under the heavy spread. If Nathan had a good day, he would find the envelope when retiring about 10:30 that evening. On its face written in broad strokes, he would read: To Nathan from Janet. Open Only When Alone. Highly Confidential.

Moving next to the garage, Janet loaded her camping backpack into the trunk of her twelve year old Century Buick—a reliable car but showing all the signs of chauffeuring teen-agers, being hit by Frisbees and baseballs, and from drinks spilt on the seats and floor mats. Also, there were multiple fender and bumper dents, some due to her impulsive driving, but most were attributable to inevitable mishaps by the new drivers in her family. The car was a clunker, all she needed today, and it would not be a great loss if never returned to the family. Packed previously, the backpack contained a short camp shovel, flashlight, pocket knife, a single small candle, book of matches, a two foot length of one inch garden hose that she snipped from a discarded hose, and four empty canteens—hers and one each from the backpacks of Cindy, Tyler and Nathan.

The Buick was half filled with gas, enough to reach her destination, with perhaps two gallons to spare in case she encountered long detours on the way. She removed the car’s keys from her key ring and looped a paperclip through them. All papers were removed from the glove compartment—nothing left that could identify the car and its owners. Back inside, she found a small hand purse and placed her driver’s license, insurance papers and a twenty dollar bill inside. A small comb and make-up compact seemed necessary. No self respecting woman should be caught without those items regardless of the circumstances. The last four items were selected with care, creating another emotional moment for Janet—a snapshot of Cindy, one of Tyler in his graduation gown taken a week earlier and one of Nathan as the young man she married. The final shot had all four of them posing together around the Christmas tree only five months earlier.

After showering and dressing in jeans, a simple white tee shirt and a silk scarf around her neck, Janet felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. It has to be done, she whispered. One final act and it would begin, on schedule. She entered Cindy’s bedroom at 11:45 and sat on the side of the bed facing her drowsy daughter.

Cindy, it’s almost noon and I’m leaving for work. Honey, I’ve fixed a lot of food and cleaned the house really well because I may not get back home tonight. Please help out with dinner and the house. In fact, you should get used to helping out this summer, and I’m hereby appointing you as woman of the house. You are a lovely young lady and I love you dearly—really proud to have you as a daughter. If anything ever happens to me, your role will be to look after our men, and I know you will. So, sweetie, sit up and give your mother a sweet hug and kiss on the cheek. And when Tyler comes in, pass it on and tell him it’s from his mother who dearly loves him.

Sleepy-eyed, Cindy happily complied and said, Sure, mom, have a nice day. I’ll get up in a few minutes.

Janet felt a heartfelt sob coming on and abruptly left the room, saying, Okay, dear, just make me even more proud of you.

Janet backed out of the garage, took the closer back inside and laid it on a table near the door after engaging the door to close. She stepped outside and watched as is slid down the tracks—a poignant metaphor for closure of the phase in her life.

Chapter 3

Janet concentrated totally on careful driving as she navigated the Buick through busy Charlotte neighborhoods and commercial streets, and finally reached I-77 heading north. A traffic mishap, speeding ticket or otherwise being recognized would jeopardize her plan. As the traffic evened out on I-77, a sense of despondency descended on her, the same burden she had experienced for nearly a year. It would soon end—relief for her troubled mind. Get out, you devil! she yelled aloud, and began thinking about the positive things in her life.

Janet’s early life had been uneventful but happy. Born to low income parents and having no siblings, she quickly acquired an aggressive disposition to help her do better in life than they had done. Unfortunately, they died a year after Janet married Nathan during the summer after finishing high school. He was two years older than Janet, her only serious beau, and had swept her off of her feet. She conceded that marrying young was probably a mistake; exposure to different men and the real world may have changed her selection of a life mate. However, she thought that she loved Nathan, induced by his gentlemanly manner and her innate desire to be a wife and mother. Opposites attract, and their personalities were magnets to each—physically but not mentally.

Tyler appeared ten months later and Janet’s motherly instincts took control. He became her pride and joy and she settled comfortably into her role as wife, mother, housekeeper and functional head of the household. Cindy came four years later—a new joy in the Flynn home. Looking back, Janet now realized that her energetic personality probably influenced her to worry excessively about things beyond her control. That preoccupation detracted from just loving and enjoying her children. She prodded them constantly, and did things for them instead of with them. Thankfully, the payoff from that strategy produced well mannered and efficient children. They inherited her native intelligence but got compassion and understanding from Nathan. It now cut Janet deeply that her family jokingly referred to her as the Gestapo, but she understood why.

Seeking affirmation for her contributions to the family, barely noticed and unappreciated by Nathan, Janet reminisced how she had taken many temporary and part time jobs to help with ever increasing expenses. After both children were in school, she delivered telephone books, worked three hour shifts at MacDonald’s during the noon rush hour and kept small children for other neighborhood parents when they had appointments. She also drove for elderly people who needed to shop or visit doctors. She had several for whom she did all of their grocery shopping. Those jobs added very little income but Janet now took pride in helping her neighbors and friends. It also kept her in touch with the real world during that confining period.

The exit onto I-40 West at Statesville broke her concentration. She took it and slipped into cruise control for the next leg of her escape. She had to mentally review one last event that had led to her miserable existence. It began three years earlier when Tyler left for college and Cindy became a freshman in high school, allowing Janet to seek a full time job. She connected quickly with a plumbing contractor, a perfect union because the owner liked her work ethic and attitude. In only one month she had mastered the office routines and initiated better ones. That allowed the owner more time in the field where his talents were better used. Janet’s could vary her schedule as needed, but always did her job well and on time. That neat arrangement and reasonably good pay lasted one year, and led to an even better job with a Charlotte mover and shaker—a highly successful business man and entrepreneur. That job had been a boon to their family income, and highly rewarding to Janet during the first year. Then without warning, her life went into an exciting spiral of physical fulfillment, followed by eleven months of degradation and shame that brought her to this painful moment.

Reliving the past year took her from unbelievable highs to bottomless pits of despair, but she gave keen attention to her driving. She exited I-40 at Rte. 23, about five miles west of Ashville, a premeditated part of her complex plan. At the bottom of the ramp, she turned into the lot of a gas station/convenience store and stopped near the door. Janet went in and bought a 16 oz. Coke, a Moon Pie and five large candy bars, all chocolate name brands she enjoyed as a youth when hip size didn’t matter. The attendant gave her $ 8.23 in change from the twenty dollar bill—the only cash she had brought.

After returning to her car, Janet took a sip of the sweet, fizzy Coke and marveled how good it tasted—the first one she had tasted in five years. The chocolate coating of the moon pie also gave her a rush, and it blended wonderfully with the creamy marshmallow center. To hell with the hips—this is oh so good, she murmured.

While eating and enjoying every decadent bite of this calorie bash, she kept a keen eye on cars that exited I-40 from the East and turned into the gas station lot. She had decided to give an hour to finding the perfect abettor for her plan—an unsuspecting person who would move rapidly to another state, and be totally unaware that he or she had been used. During the wait, Janet began having positive thoughts. The sugar rush was obviously giving her a temporary sense of well being.

Janet knew full well that she was an attractive woman, pretty facial features and a body that always garnered second looks from men. She had stayed in excellent shape through strict dieting and exercise. She didn’t have to join a gym. Mowing the lawn and raking leaves kept her lean during spring, summer and fall months. Pruning and attending to plantings in the yard were year-round chores. Winter months brought on heavy cleaning and refurbishing of their home, and she had never hired anyone to help with those activities. The children would help if ordered but were usually busy with other activities, or else claimed they were. Nathan couldn’t help because of his heart condition, but Janet concluded that he could have done more if properly motivated. She thought, I’ve been the plow horse at home, but I don’t mind—it kept me trim.

This spate of back-patting reminded Janet that she had scrupulously avoided the advance of other men over the years. She couldn’t count the times that strangers and even acquaintances made overtures or direct passes at her. She also knew that they were only after her body—not her as a person. In public she always wore a friendly smile and reacted cordially when approached, but had a way of putting an end to their advances. A comment like, My husband will appreciate the interest you showed in me today, spoken in a hard-edged tone suggesting, Get lost, pal. Janet internalized that a lot of married women would have been flattered and even encouraged men’s passes. Her good looks and fine body were accidents of birth and maintenance, and Janet had never given thought to exploiting them. I’ve been a one-man woman and I’m proud of it, until . . . . , she thought.

At that moment a late model Cadillac pulled up to a gas pump, having left I-40 coming from the east. She watched as a middle aged man got out and punched buttons on the pump—a well dressed balding man who could have been sixty or more. The lady in the passenger seat had well coifed hair and nice facial features, although puffy. The license plate indicated they were from Ohio, which met Janet’s requirement. She got out of her car and made eye contact with the man who was now pumping gas and staring her way. She smiled and he returned the smile. As she walked the twenty feet separating them, Janet threw her shoulders back to ascent her figure and took long strides toward the man who seemingly admired this beauty approaching him.

I’ve got him hooked; now I need to apply the damsel-in-distress ploy and it’ll be a done deal, she thought, and smiled even more widely as she stopped three feet from the man.

Sir, may I speak while you’re pumping? I’ll be brief.

Speak away, ma’am, what can I do for you?

Three of my sorority friends were to meet me here an hour ago and go on an overnight hiking-camping trip on the Appalachian Trail about thirty miles west of here. It was to be a reunion of sorts, without husbands, and a chance to catch up on all that’s happened during the last twenty years—a hen party in the rough, without worrying about dresses and make-up. I just talked with them on my cell phone and the meeting place somehow got muddled. They are at the Trail now waiting for me. One of their husbands dropped them off and returned to his home, so they can’t come for me. Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to park overnight where the trail crosses I-40. Plain and simple, I need a ride. I have no luggage other than a backpack, which I can hold in my lap. Could I please ride with you and your wife? You certainly look to be a gentleman, and your wife had a pleasant look on her face when you drove up—a beautiful lady, I must say. Sir, I didn’t bring enough money to pay you for the ride but will send a check later if you’ll let me tag along. I’m desperate.

Get in, honey, and the only charge is for you to listen to my wife talk. My ears are numb from two weeks of listening during a vacation at Hilton Head. Okay?

"Thank you, sir. I’ll move my car to the side of the lot and be ready by the time you pay for the