Leaving for Detroit: And Other Stories

By Xlibris US

Leaving for Detroit is a three part novella that takes place in the years 1937, 1943, and 1952. The stories are about sexual promiscuity, loyalty to friends, and ideological differences. But in every case, there is a common thread that binds the stories together. They are stories of survival and the choices that the characters make in order to ensure that survival, or the loss of everything, the death of someone. Death is a common theme throughout the book, in all the stories, from The Oasis in 1934 to The Letter in 2008.
The fi nal act in life is death, which takes on many different faces in these stories, from the loss of an unborn child to suicide, and to murder; and it is invariably caused by the choices people make at different times in their lives. Some characters are the victims of someone elses choice, though it can be argued that the hand of death itself is a victim. These are stories of ordinary people making choices that may be ordinary, or in some cases, extraordinary. Circumstances occur that allow people to live a long life, but in almost every circumstance there is a choice to be made. And in every choice, there lies the ever present specter of death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781479790241

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Roger Cockreham.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013902113

ISBN: Hardcover      978-1-4797-9023-4

ISBN: Softcover        978-1-4797-9022-7

ISBN: eBook            978-1-4797-9024-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 06/13/2014

Xlibris Corporation

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Leaving for Detroit

(A novella)

and

Other Stories

Leaving for Detroit

(a novella)

and

Other Stories

For

Tim

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Suzanne for her patience during the creative process related to this book, as in all other things as well. I would also like to thank Bill Foster for his enthusiasm in the creation of the cover art. And I would like to thank the Xlibris team for their professional assistance in the publication of this book.

THE OASIS

1934

Abbie was trying to stay cool in the backseat of the old touring car as her father George guided the black beast through the heat and dust of southeastern Colorado. Her light red hair was blowing in the hot wind that rushed through the open window of the backseat. She was sitting on the right side behind her mother Gladys, who sat in front with her hair in a bonnet, squinting into the lowering sun. Abbie was sharing the backseat with three suitcases and a couple of hatboxes, some personal belongings they had managed to get inside the car. The trunk and the top of the car were also loaded, with a tarp tied down over everything on top. It was such a load that it made the old car sit down in the back and caused her father to strain to see over the hood. They were traveling through almost flat low rolling hills covered in dry grasses, chased by dust bowl sun devils that the wind swirled up into the hot sun, that eventually fell apart into small unrelated dust clouds caught on gusts of dry air. It was late August 1934 and the McDaniels were leaving the sun-scorched prairies of Kansas, heading west to California.

Damn! said her father, casting a sideways glance at his wife who didn’t approve of what she called foul language. The temperature gage is rising. With the sun going down, it should be getting cooler, not hotter.

Hearing, but not acknowledging his mild profanity, his wife asked in a strident voice, What’ll we do?

I’ll slow down some, but we need to find a place to stop pretty soon. Looks like we may get stranded.

They drove along for several more miles with the gage rising steadily and Gladys bowing her head slightly in silent prayer. After a while, they saw a grove of trees near the road in the distance. It also looked like there was a small building there, built back from the road near the trees. They drove into a small depression and lost sight of the trees and the building. Abbie hoped it wasn’t a mirage in the heat waves that rose up from the pavement. As they topped the next rise, something popped, and steam started boiling over the front of the car. Her father turned off the engine and shifted the transmission into neutral. They coasted down the gradual grade of the highway with nothing but the sounds of the hissing steam and the heat burdened air blowing through the windows to fill their ears. The car finally lost its momentum and coasted to a stop about thirty yards short of the trees. They could see a sign on the side of the front porch of the building that read, Rest Stop. Below that it read, Camping, Water.

Sitting on the front porch of the rest stop, John had heard the sound of the hose popping though it was a quarter mile away and saw the steam engulf the front of the car as it came down the road. He watched it coast until it stopped on the side of the road. He was mildly disappointed that the driver couldn’t get it to coast into the shade of the sparse stunted trees. He knew it would be a much hotter job replacing the busted hose out in the sun rather than under a tree. At least he hoped it was just a hose. He rose from the rocker on the porch, grabbed his hat from the nail on the wall behind him, and walked down the steps and then the short distance to the car, noting how loaded it was. But that wasn’t unusual these days. Just about all of those headed west looked like this one. He walked slowly but deliberately toward the car, his boots crunching on the gravel on the side of the road. By the time he got there, the driver, a tall man with reddish blonde hair and wearing blue denim overalls had gotten out of the car and was using his bandana to move the hood latch. With the hood up and locked in place, steam poured out of the engine compartment and from around the wheel wells. He stopped near the man and, without smiling, introduced himself. Hello, I’m John Winthrop. I own the rest stop over there. Though his business was catering to people needing help of one sort or another, John was very matter of fact about things, not known for being friendly. And it showed in his unsmiling stoic face. Indeed, John liked to have customers. But he didn’t like them to stay any longer than necessary. He was afraid they might turn into squatters, the kind of people hard to get rid of, especially with the sheriff so far away. And people with car problems were definitely candidates for being squatters.

The man turned and looked at him with a somewhat hopeful look on his face and said, Hello, I’m George McDaniels. I’m sure glad to see you. Looks like we’re going to need your help. Was that sign right about you having water?

John still didn’t smile. Me and my brother Edward own the land north of us and we piped water from our spring about a half mile from here. Glancing in the direction of the spring, he continued, You can just see the outline of that small grove of trees near the top of that hill. It’s one of the springs that feeds the Two Buttes River. After a brief pause, while the two men watched the steam roll from the engine compartment, John said, Looks like we need to wait awhile to let this thing cool down.

George just nodded, a frown on his sun-reddened face.

John spoke again, Why don’t you bring your wife over to the stop and get a drink of water? With the hood up and steam still billowing, partially blocking his view, he had not yet noticed Abbie in the backseat.

George replied, Thanks, that would be great. He motioned for Gladys and Abbie to get out of the car, saying, Come on, we can get a drink over here.

Gladys was a medium sized woman wearing a light red gingham dress. Her wide brimmed sunbonnet was white with small flowers on it. She came around and stood by George, but she only came up to his shoulder. The color of the small wisps of hair escaping from her bonnet was light brown. Abbie opened her door on the right side of the car and made her way slowly to the side of her mother. When John saw Abbie, he was immediately transfixed by the beauty of the young woman, who appeared to be about twenty years old. She was taller than her mother, slender, wearing a white blouse and a blue gingham skirt. What caught his eye was her long windblown sandy red hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes. She had very small pale freckles on her cheeks, some on her arms, and many more that started at her neckline and cascaded down into her blouse. John seemed to be mesmerized by her, but after a brief moment, he came out of his reverie when George said, This is my wife Gladys, and my daughter Abigail.

John said, Hello.

Together, they both replied, Hello.

John, returning to the business at hand, said, We don’t charge for drinking, but if you want to take any water with you, it’s ten cents a gallon, and baths are fifty cents.

George sighed deeply, Well, I guess you do have to charge for water when there’s such a shortage of it.

John replied in a somewhat reprimanding tone, We wouldn’t normally, but these are hard times for everyone, and we’re just trying to make enough to hang on here. Most folks who stop seem to appreciate it.

George replied in a more conciliatory tone, Well, I guess you’re right about that. I’m going to need several gallons when I get the car fixed, and it does seem fortunate that there’s water out here in the middle of nowhere. By the way, I don’t see a name sign on the building. What do you call it?

It doesn’t have a name, it’s just a rest stop, but my brother wants to call it ‘The Oasis’. John turned and walked back toward the building set back in the front edge of the trees, away from the road. The McDaniels family followed. There was a barbed wire fence around three sides of the grove and the building, about one acre square. But there was no wire across the front of the property. They stopped on the east side of the building where a large wooden barrel stood on a small table. To the right of the barrel were four metal cups hanging on nails. The McDaniels each took a cup and filled it from the small spigot at the bottom of the barrel. As they were drinking, John said, Camping is a dollar a day. You can camp anywhere in the grove but you can’t have a fire. It’s too dry for that. If you want to cook something, you can use the wood stove on the front porch. Do you have a tent?

Yes, we do, said George. Then he asked, How far is the nearest town?

Well, the next town of any decent size would be Trinidad, and it’s about two hours west. Depending on what’s wrong with your car, your best bet is to spend the night here and catch a ride over to Trinidad in the morning.

George frowned again and then asked, What’s in the building?

Just two rooms for baths, one for men and one for women. We don’t have any indoor plumbing so you have to go down to the outhouses west of the building, by the fence, where it starts to slope down into the gully. There’s one for the men and one for the women. If you want hot water for a bath, you have to warm it in the large pots on the wood stove. The water is cold spring water, so most people warm it up a bit before using it for their bath.

George said, Thanks. And turning to Gladys and Abbie, I’ll go get the tent and cots off the car. You want to find us a place to camp?

Gladys replied in her usual logical but friendly voice, We’ll come with you. We need to eat, so we’ll get the corn meal and beans, and the pot and skillet to cook them in. You can find a place to set up the tent. They all trudged off to the still steaming car.

John turned and went to the front of the bathhouse. He stirred up some live coals in the old stove and shoved a few small logs into it. Then he went to the other end of the porch and sat back down in the large rocker, which squeaked and clunked across the worn pine boards.

After George got the old tent off the top of the car, he went back into the grove of trees to look for a level spot to set it up. There wasn’t anybody else there, so he had his choice, which was a small clearing near an old stump, on which they could put a wooden tray for their dinner. As George was putting up the tent, Gladys and Abbie prepared beans and cornbread in a cast iron pot and skillet at the side of the building. They went up onto the porch and put the beans on the stove and the cornbread in the small oven. They had used a small amount of water for both dishes, but John didn’t seem to be worried about that because he didn’t say anything. He was evidently concerned only with the use of large amounts. He simply rocked in the old chair, staring with a somber expression out across the road at the endless prairie, occasionally glancing in Abbie’s direction.

During the time the beans and cornbread were cooking, Gladys and Abbie went back to help George finish setting up the campsite. Also during that time, two more vehicles arrived. One was a loaded down truck with a young couple, William and Grace Simpson, and their small son Toby. The other was a large car, not unlike the McDaniels’. In it was a family of five, Ben and Susan Flynn, with Henry, Jacob, and Mary. The children varied in age from about fourteen to about nine. John greeted each family with the same interest as the McDaniels, and of course, discussed the water and camping options with each of them.

As the McDaniels were sitting down to eat, John came up to their campsite and said to George, I’ve talked to the other families and I think that in the morning we should be able to push your car over under a tree so that it will be easier to work on. It gets mighty hot here and fairly early in the morning. My brother Edward comes down from the house the first thing in the morning, so there’ll be five men, and if we need him, the Flynn boy. That should be enough, even as loaded as your car is.

George replied with a smile, I certainly appreciate your help John. Thanks.

That’s okay. And with a furtive glance in Abbie’s direction, John turned and went back to the bathhouse. There was a cot in the men’s side of the bathhouse where he or Edward slept, depending on who was working the night shift. This week was John’s turn. Later, after the kerosene lanterns went out at all three campsites, John went into the men’s room, took off his boots and overalls, and lay down on the cot.

*     *     *

The next morning, John was up early, stoking the fire in the wood stove so that he could warm the breakfast that Edward brought to him and so that the families could cook something for themselves if they wanted. He was just leaving the outhouse as Edward was arriving along the well-worn trail across the barren pasture from their house, which was almost a half-mile northwest of the highway behind a low ridge. Edward was younger and more slender than John, a couple of inches shorter, and with darker hair. But they both shared the same dark blue eyes of their father. After exchanging Morning to each other, John opened the small wooden gate in the back corner of the lot and told Edward about who was camping, and about the trouble with the McDaniels’ car.

After everybody in the camp had stirred, the women began to meet and greet each other on the front porch of the bathhouse, and the men did the same down by the McDaniels’ car. While the women were making breakfast for everybody, the men pushed the car to the first couple of trees in the grove. There was only a small uphill grade, but with young Henry Flynn steering, the five men were able to overcome it without too much difficulty. In short order, with a pair of pliers, George was able to loosen and remove the two metal clamps holding the split radiator hose. It was the bottom hose, so he had lost most of the water in the radiator. They also checked the top hose, and found it to be bulging and slightly cracked at one of the clamps. So George decided to take the top hose off as well, since it would be easier to replace both at the same time. William Simpson offered to let George ride with them in the back of their truck to Trinidad so that he could get replacement hoses. George accepted the offer, knowing he would just have to hitch another ride back.

At breakfast, Edward met all the guests, including Abbie. He was just as enchanted by her beauty as was his older brother, and Abbie seemed to like Edward’s attention. He was better looking than John and he had a ready smile and ready conversation for just about anything, not nearly as somber as John.

After breakfast, John told George that it was possible he could have his car fixed and be gone by the time he got back at six in the evening. He then said goodbye to all the guests, and Edward watched as his brother took the path back up the hill to the house. It was close to nine in the morning when the Flynns and the Simpsons, with George, drove away.

While Gladys busied herself with cleaning, Abbie and Edward sat on the front porch of the bathhouse; she was in the rocker and he was leaning against one of the large cedar posts. She said, My parents had a wheat farm northwest of Wichita, but the drought had taken the wheat and just about everything else as well. It seemed that the dust got into everything. They lost the farm when the bank foreclosed about a month ago, and then gave them just thirty days to leave. My parents sold everything they could, from farm equipment to Momma’s furniture, and only for pennies on the dollar. The thing that Momma had the biggest problem leaving was her Mother’s rocker. It had been handmade by my grandfather. So it’s the only piece of furniture Poppa allowed to be tied on to the car. As it was, we were also able to save Momma’s china and linens and Poppa kept some of his hand tools. They’re in the bottom of the car trunk. Momma took the family pictures that we had hanging on the walls out of their frames and put them in her mother’s big Bible. She stacked the empty frames on the floor by the fireplace. I can still see Momma standing in the small room, with her hand on the rocker, looking at all that she had grown up with. There was this expression in her eyes that made me very sad. She looked as though she had lost the most precious thing in the world and didn’t know how she could go on. But she came out of it when I put my hand on her shoulder. I think she was just letting part of her life go so that she could start another. I’d been living with my aunt Agnes in Wichita, going to the local college, studying to be a teacher. I could have stayed because Aunt Agnes offered to pay my tuition and my parents wanted me to, but I couldn’t abandon them. And I was afraid for them. They can still be a little too trusting, and I wanted to make sure no one took advantage of them. So I helped them load up what we could in the old car and started for California. Now, of course, we have this problem with the car. In her mind, she finished the thought with which is not necessarily a bad thing.

My story is a lot like yours in that I’m here to help my brother, said Edward. I was away at mining school in Denver when John got this idea about the rest stop. We had water from the spring, but there was little grass, mostly dust. My dad barely had enough to buy feed for all the livestock so he sold some and they had some butchered. But my parents weren’t too keen on the rest stop idea and I’m pretty sure they didn’t want to pack up and leave for California like everybody else. John said they argued about it quite a bit when suddenly they decided to leave and let John do it on his own. John wrote and asked me to come down and give him a hand. I was working part-time and paying my tuition, but it was the winter holiday break, so I decided to come on down. I figured that at worst, I would lose just one semester. By the time I got here, my parents had gone. John said they didn’t want to wait, that they were in a hurry to get out west before too many other people did the same thing. I was disappointed, but there was nothing I could do but help John. We tore down an old loafing shed and a small barn to build the bathhouse. John said we had just enough money to buy the pipe and pump we needed to get the water from the spring to here. We’ve managed to get a lot done since last winter, but it hasn’t made it any easier. John has been a pretty hard taskmaster, and if things didn’t go quite like he thought they should, he more often than not lost his temper. But he’s not a bad sort, just worries a lot.

Do you still intend to go back to school this fall?

That was my plan, but I’m not so sure now. I’d like to see my parents first.

Have you heard from them?

No, not since they left. They should have written long before now. I’ve gotten pretty worried about them. I offered to hitch a ride out to California, out to Fresno where John said they were going, but John said he needed me here to help save the ranch. Besides, he said they’re probably all right, or we would’ve heard something if they weren’t. I’m sure he’s right, but I’m still worried.

Yes, I would be too. I can’t imagine not knowing what’s happened to my parents. Even with Poppa being gone today, I’m still worried that something might happen to him.

Edward nodded his understanding, and asked, What about you? Are you going back to school?

Oh yes, but probably not until the spring, after we get settled.

About that time, a car pulled in front of the bathhouse, and Edward pushed himself up from the floor of the porch to see to the people in the car, leaving Abbie with her thoughts. It was already late morning, so Abbie rose from the rocker and went to see if she could help her mother with anything. She found her at the campsite getting some cleaning rags together. I’m sorry I spent so much time talking with Edward. I should’ve been helping you.

Gladys smiled. I don’t mind a bit, sweetheart. Cleaning helps me take my mind off your father, and besides, a pretty girl like you needs the attention of a handsome young man once in a while.

Abbie blushed slightly. Well, he is handsome, but right now he’s busy, and I need to get busy with something as well. What can I do?

I cleaned the stove and water stand at the rest stop, but I haven’t done anything in the tent yet. If you’ll straighten up everything in there, I’ll go clean the ladies bath. I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but those two boys don’t seem to know how to take care of something like that very well. She hesitated, and then added, Then I think I’ll take a bath. I’m pretty sure we’ll probably be staying here another night. There’s no telling when your father will be back. So we need to do the best we can until then.

Abbie smiled as her mother pulled a towel, washcloth, and soap from the small toiletries bag her father had carried to the tent. As her mother headed for the bathhouse, she disappeared into the tent.

*     *     *

George had had some trouble finding somebody in Trinidad with the right hoses, and then he didn’t get a ride back until he had been walking for a while, already a few miles out of town. Finally, a man in an old truck stopped and gave him a ride. The man was a grizzled, mustached cowboy who berated him more than once for walking out in the heat of the day. When the cowboy dropped him off at the rest stop, he asked the cowboy where he was headed. The cowboy replied, About twenty miles back. When George offered to pay for his trouble, the cowboy refused to accept anything. He just said, Good luck, spat out the window, wiped his mustache, and turned his old truck back west.

It was late afternoon by the time George stepped out of the old truck at the rest stop. After telling Gladys and Abbie about his trip, Gladys said, Abbie and I will get something started to eat. You’re bound to be hungry.

George said, It won’t take me long to put these hoses on, but I’ll have to carry water to get the radiator refilled. Do you want to repack and start out again tonight, or wait until tomorrow morning?

Gladys replied, I’d rather wait until morning. I don’t care much for traveling after dark. What do you want to do?

"I’d rather wait until