“The Adventures of Another American!”

By Bryan Lambert

The book starts comically, and it continues to get more exciting the older I get. My father died when I was three and a half years old and left me with enormous shoes to try filling in. I make my first trip to Reform School at the age of fourteen and continue until I get paralyzed and settled down.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503557666

Bryan Lambert

Bryan resides in Mill Valley, CA in a beautiful apartment for the disabled. He was paralyzed in a motorcycle accident when he was twenty-two years old, thirty-five years ago (as of this writing). He has maintained a positive outlook on life in spite of the many obstacles he has faced throughout these trying times. Writing and art are his favorite hobbies.

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Copyright © 2015 by Bryan Lambert.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-5035-5767-3

                eBook          978-1-5035-5766-6

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.

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

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 09/09/2015

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1 THE BEGINNING

Chapter 2 SCHOOL DAZE

Chapter 3 SARASOTA READY OR NOT

Chapter 4 HALFWAY THERE

Chapter 5 LOVELY JENNY!

Chapter 6 GO WEST YOUNG MAN!

Chapter 7 CARLA MY LOVE!

Chapter 8 LOVELY VANESSA!

Chapter 9 TWO WHEELS TO FOUR!

Chapter 10 A BETTER BEGINNING!

BE FORWARNED!!!

The following story is not a fairy tale; it is one of the seductions of the young, substance abuse and redemption through providence. All the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

I ask the reader not to judge me, as God will by the final product.

CHAPTER ONE

THE BEGINNING

W hen I left my mother’s warm inside to join the others in the cold hospital room, it was the sixth day of the eight month during the year of nineteen fifty-eight. I noticed the doctor’s wristwatch was at one forty five.

Seeing the black outdoors I knew it was after midnight. The large man suspended me by my ankles and gave me my first spanking. That’s what led to all my hostility!

The umbilical cord was snipped and then the doctor handed me to his nurse who wiped me clean, wrapped me in a warm blanket and carried me to meet my sixteen year old father as he paced the waiting room floor in his black leather jacket.

He snubbed his Marlboro in the cylinder can, kissed the top of my bald head and asked, When can I see my wife?

Everything went well. The doctor will probably want to keep her tonight but you can come get them tomorrow.

I’ll see you then, he answered, walking towards the elevator with his hand tucked in his Levi pocket.

He rode the metal box to the lobby, and I was taken to the nursery. My father hurried to his Chevrolet, and then hopped behind the steering wheel and started the powerful engine. Squealing his tires backward, he threw the transmission in first gear then smoked the wheels away. He sped to his parent’s house, entered and went to his bedroom to sleep.

The Florida sun brightened and his eyelids flickered wide. He smiled, and then stood pulling the same pants over his toes. He tugged on a T-shirt, then stepped in his boots and hurried to get a cup of smoldering drink. Mamaw held her boy and asked what happened.

My father said I was born and he had to go get me. He set his cup in the sink and hurried out. Uncovering his Harley Ronson, he jumped on the kick-start a few times until the fuel fired, and the cycle carried him away. Riding the motorcycle between his parent’s garage and their chicken coop, he draped a used quilt on the seat, and then went to his Chevrolet and caused that engine to bark.

Allow me this time to introduce my father’s family; His father we called Popa was an English-Irishman who went through many trials. His mother was half Blackfoot Indian and half Cherokee. They had 13 children but six died. The story that hurt me most was about their first child they called TJ. When he was four some neighborhood boys gave him a cherry bomb and told him it was a tasty treat. At that time, he thought he’d try it and never told anyone until he could no longer take the pain. Mamaw and Popa rushed him to the hospital. He asked Popa to hold him near the window so he could see the pretty lights across the street, and then his head fell to one side and his eyes closed.

Their second child was a girl they named Margarett, who married a man who gave her three children before he left. She married another man and produced two boys before he left too. Then Grace; she was an extremely attractive lady who later married a junk man who gave her three sons before I was born.

Next they had a boy they named Frank. Frank was a hard worker who married a lady who gave him a daughter before my birth.

They had a few stillbirths, then my Uncle Homer (whose wife Valerie was ready to give birth the same time I was born) and then my father was born. After a couple more dead babies, they had a son they named Lonnie and a girl they named Mae after Mamaw. They decided that was enough and had no more. Now, back to the story.

Racing down their dirt driveway, the Chevrolet fled from a cloud until he reached asphalt and squealed the tires. Arriving shortly after departing, he placed the gearshift in first and silenced the motor. Knowing where to find us, he hurried to the elevator, then rode to our floor and took care of the final responsibilities.

His wife handed their son to him as the doctor scribbled notes, and asked, What are you going to name him?

Robert Bryan. He’s going to be a boxer called Bob Bryan. My mother was gathering everything she’d accumulated during her overnight stay. The doctor handed my father the birth certificate and my mother had all her things, so we left.

The large sun was getting higher; producing enough heat to leave the top down. When the key was turned, the engine roared. Father pumped the accelerator a few times before his wife scolded, We’ve got a baby now. The engine idled while he pulled the stick shift back and towards him. The Chevrolet and three happy Lamberts left and turned on Arlington, and then proceeded to Highway Forty-one and made a right until we reached Euclid.

When we arrived at Mamaw and Popa’s, there were family members waiting to see the newest Lambert. They were cooing and cawing, and then Popa stumbled for his inspection. When he reached where I was cradled in Father’s arms, he leaned forward and my father detected the scent of alcohol. He asked Margarett if she had enough room for him and his family.

Oh Landon, please don’t leave, Mamaw begged.

I can’t take his drinking all the time.

That’s all right, let ’em go, Popa said.

I’ve got room, Margarett said, Anne can help with my kids.

We loaded in our own vehicles then went to Margarett’s battered home. I was given her youngest son’s old crib and diapers, which my mother found she needed right away.

Everyone slept through the night, except my mother and me. Every time I cried, Mom woke to end my distress. Early the following morning, my mother helped Margarett make her children’s lunch, and then we watched as they hurried to school, after which my father and Margarett left for work. My mother watched Margarett’s youngest son Keith, who was a year and a half older than me and twice as big. Mom made sure we each had lunch and received a nap at noon.

In the afternoon, the bigger children returned. An hour later, Margarett brought her tired self in. The sun was beginning to hide before father’s Chevrolet roared in. He burst in saying, Get all our stuff. I sold my Harley and bought a house! He lifted Margarett’s telephone and called his older brothers for help moving. Telephoning his parent’s, he borrowed a bed and some old things we could use.

He had his wife and me get in his car, and we followed Homer and Frank to my grandparent’s house. Mamaw held me bobbing up and down, while my uncles and father got whatever we’d need. Mamaw returned me to my mother, wiped a tear, and then said, I’ll miss you all.

We’ll see you a lot, my mom reassured her.

The Chevrolet followed Frank’s GMC out of sight. My father rode beside Frank’s truck and motioned, we’re going to stop for dinner. The steering wheel circled below the Golden Arches, and then the pickup continued towards Manatee County.

My parents bought whatever they’d enjoy, and then carried the white bag and me back to the car. They headed north. As the automobile was nearing Manatee County, a huge jet flew overhead and sounded like it was going to tear the roof off.

Where are we going? cried Mom.

You’ll get used to it. Besides, it was the only place I could afford. He turned off and proceeded down a dark shell and dirt road to its’ end. Then followed the curve and stopped behind the GMC that was half unloaded. My uncles were taking a beat-up dresser from its bed.

The truck was emptied and the few things we had were put away before my uncles departed. My crib was kept in my parent’s room, so when I cried my mother wouldn’t have far to go.

When the sun peaked over the horizon the room turned bright and every eyelid detected the change, and then flickered wide. Mother changed my diaper, while my father got all the rest he could. After I was cleaned, my father got up. He extended his arms while my mother went to make a fresh pot of coffee.

After his ’56 Chevy spun down the road, my mother straightened the house before giving me a nap. When I cried she cleaned me, and then rested me in a stroller and went exploring our new neighborhood. She tipped my stroller backwards, rolled it on the porch and closed the door. Tipping again, she rolled the stroller down the badly cracked sidewalk.

We headed towards the highway, and then noticed a Chinese restaurant called the Golden Buddha with a help wanted sign displayed. Tipping and rolling inside, she inquired the position and was hired. Thanking Mr. Yang she tilted the stroller, rolled me out and down the highway to a store called, The Cracker Barrel. where she purchased eye shadow, lipstick and mascara.

Placing the beauty supplies in my diaper bag, Mom backtracked and followed a landing aircraft to our new old house. She tilted the stroller and rolled me inside. Sprawling a blanket, I was laid down while she went to make herself prettier.

Father’s Chevrolet whipped around the corner, and then screeched to a stop.

The buckles on his jacket rattled when he stepped to the bathroom. He looked at his wife and said, Take that off right this minute!

Why Landon, everybody wears make-up these days.

I don’t want my wife looking like some whore!

I’m not a whore.

I know you’re not. Take it off!

She came out still pretty; just minus her newly purchased decorations. I got fired today, father informed her.

Well, I just got a job at the corner restaurant.

I don’t want my wife working either!

Now we’ll need the money. Besides, it’s at night when you’ll be here to watch little Bryan. How’d you lose your job?

The cement mixer I was driving got too close to a ditch and rolled in. It stayed long enough for the mud to harden and ruin the whole load.

What are we going do when the first house payment’s due?

I went right out and got a new job easily.

Good. We can still use the extra money my job brings in.

I guess you’re right. When you’re ready we’ll walk you down. When her last button was connected the clock read three in the afternoon, my mother left dinner for my father and then the happy family packed me in my stroller to journey down the street.

My parents kissed farewell. Mother stepped through the threshold so my father continued around the block.

Ten days later my Aunt Valerie and Uncle Homer had a girl they named Jeanne.

I was nearing my 1st birthday; I was taking a couple steps forwards and one to the side before falling on my soft cotton rag. My Aunt Grace and Uncle Leon finally had a girl they named Kathy, and my mother informed me I was going to have a sister to take care of real soon. We spent a lot of time thinking of female names we thought sounded good, and as time progressed, she let me feel each time my sister kicked. I was running, jumping and cussing like an all-American boy, and my father was out fishing the day his wife’s water broke. She telephoned her sister-in-law, who rushed over and took her to the hospital with me going to Mamaw’s.

When my father returned, he walked in an empty house with empty buckets. He telephoned his mother and learned his wife was having their second child. Returning the receiver, he ran to his automobile then sped away. He arrived at the emergency room shortly after hanging the telephone up and found Mae in the waiting room smiling.

Stepping to his sister he asked, Is Anne all right?

She’s fine Landon. You’ve got two boys."

What? This was supposed to be a girl! He walked to the receptionist who gave permission to see her. He walked inside and kissed her saying, I thought you were going to have a girl.

I’m sorry. There was nothing I could do about it.

I know that, but two boys? What are we going to do?

The doctor says I can go home soon.

All right, I’ll be in the lobby.

He went to his sister and thanked her, and then Mae went home.

A nurse informed Father that his wife was ready, so he returned to her room. As she collected everything the hospital offered, the doctor wrote my brother’s name, Russell Eugene sounds good.

They loaded in the Chevrolet and returned to Mamaw’s, only to discover Popa drunk in his room and Mamaw and me at the table.

When they entered my mother was holding their new bundle of joy, with my six foot two inch father at her side. When they came I asked, Can I see my baby sister?

It’s not a sister, you have a little brother, Mom said, bending for me to take a look.

So that’s the little bastard.

Ooohh, Bryan!

Come with me young man! Dad demanded. We walked in the bathroom and came out shortly after. I looked at the wrinkled, pink bald-headed baby. Hi ya’ Russell, I said, lifting and lowering his little hand. He smiled and everyone said he knew we were related.

The sun decided to sleep an hour prior. My father’s Chevrolet turned right as another aircraft let us know where the house was. My father stopped in the sandy driveway. I jumped out and hurried inside, turning on a light as my parents and new brother followed.

Our father lifted the telephone’s receiver and called his old friend, Roger Justice. Hanging up, he announced he was going out.

Landon, we’ve got two boys to take care of.

I’ll be back before you’re ready for bed.

He left, and then the Chevy barked before it roared and left.

He hurried to get Roger, and then they went to get Richard Tucker. Roger was a short, blond-haired man missing one of his front teeth from a fistfight. Richard was a tall man with a beer belly and a wife with a boy a few months older than I. When Richard was aboard, the three of them went to get a bottle of whiskey and a lady to celebrate my brother’s birth. They drove past our house and were racing down a dark road towards Bradenton, when the idea came up for my father to try jumping the Humpback Bridge.

The bridge was true to its name, the road rose high enough for passing sailboats to float by without harming their sails. Enough whiskey circled father’s brain for him to think he could do it. Pulling the gearshift down and towards him, he popped the clutch and the car raced to the top. When the Chevrolet reached the top, it became airborne and flew against the blackened atmosphere with his hysterical friends screaming inside.

When the automobile landed, the front right tire blew and caused the car to roll side to side. All of the passengers were thrown safely from the auto, and then it came crashing down on my father breaking his neck. The scratched passengers flagged a motorist and had him get an ambulance that rushed the handsome man to the hospital.

My mother received a telephone call telling everything that happened. Aunt Mae hurried to get us. She took Russell and me to Mamaw’s, and then our mother to the emergency room. We stayed with Mamaw and Popa until our father was released. Three days after Russell’s birth, Homer and Val had a boy they named Little Homer. There was too much going on for anyone except Valerie to be excited.

Arrangements were made for us to live with our grandparents, while my father healed. We lived in the close quarters about six months. A lot of diapers were changed, and in nineteen sixty the only catheter my father had was a glove with a rubber band holding it in place, which caused much aggravation and many damp jeans. There were also many meals eaten before my father, after being told he’d be confined to a wheelchair the rest of his life grew more determined and was up on Canadian crutches. When my mother returned from the Buddha one night, our father said,

Tomorrow we go home.

Are you sure that’s a good idea? asked Mamaw.

Mom, my life has to go on, her son said.

My father’s big muscles moved his crutches down the narrow hall. Russell was put between them, and I hopped on the couch.

The moon cleared way for the sun, birds chirped to welcome their friend. Everyone slowly found his or her way to the table. A bowl of Cheerios was made for me and Mom fed son number two a bottle as my father sipped hot coffee. When everyone finished his or her meal our father said,

Let’s go.

My mother bought Mae’s Ford Falcon, which we climbed inside. Mother made sure her husband was securely strapped to the seat before she handed Russell to Dad, and then climbed behind the steering wheel.

We had to drive through the black district of town, I had the rear window down looking at the way those poor people lived. Driving down Twenty-First Avenue, we passed between a Shell gas station and the Greyhound dog-racing track. Then we turned right and proceeded to our small house. When we got there my mother opened her door, I busted out and ran inside. Mom carried Russell and laid him on a blanket, and then went to the Falcon to help her man.

The sun set and rose many times before Russell was crawling everywhere he wanted or needed to go, and my father was on a cane limping everywhere he wanted or needed to go. Uncle Leon, Aunt Grace and their four children came from Alabama for a visit with Mamaw.

Our father had some of his friends bring the body of his Chevrolet to our house, and he purchased another big engine to go inside. Our Aunt Mae fed us while my mother worked. During the days before Mom had to report to her job, our father had her help lower a three twenty-seven engine into the frame of his ’56 Chevy.

Dad would tell mom what bolts needed loosening, and what had to be put where. After the motor rested, he’d tell her what to tighten and make sure she did everything correctly. Mom had to remove the dirt and oil from her fingers before reporting to work. One afternoon while washing her hands, our aunt Mae came to help with her responsibilities, our father limped to the other side and got behind the steering wheel. Turning the ignition, he barked the motor a few times before his wife returned in her shiny red worktop.

I’ll take you today, Dad said, grinning from ear to ear.

Be very careful, Landon, Mae told her brother, while Mom was getting in the passenger’s side. The motor roared and then the tires spun towards the Golden Buddha, which had moved from one end of our street right off the highway.

After they arrived, Mom closed the car door and father said, I’m gonna take a spin.

She entered the restaurant and listened to his tires scream down the Highway.

The sun set without anyone hearing from our father. The moon climbed over the edge of the earth; and was headed center sky before my Dad returned for his wife. She had some more things to do so he said, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Returning to the Chevrolet, he spun the tires towards our house.

Locking his brakes he slid to a stop out front, and then hurried to make sure we were all right. Mae was cleaning when his buckles rattled in. She rinsed her