Kids

By C. M. Johan

There’s no accounting for kids these days. This book tracks a few of them through various parts of their lives—parts both good and bad.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669841777

C. M. Johan

C. M. Johan has written a series of feature articles for local publications about artists and other people of interest on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Some of his poetry and an occasional story have found their ways into small publications, both local and far-flung. He likes to visit his grandchildren in far-away places. Just like in the Dave Loggins song, he has lived in Boston, Denver and L.A. Cape Cod is his current locale.

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Copyright © 2022 by C. M. Johan.

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 Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 08/15/2022

Xlibris

844-714-8691

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CONTENTS

Not Long Ago

Janet, 1966

Sgt. Henry Baker, 1968

Pvt. Edward Barnes, 1969

Ron

Ron and Louise

Janet Met Hank

Hank

Janet and Hank

Louise and Ron

Mike

Charlotte

Florence

A Night Out

Florence Met Frank

Life Goes On

On The Road

Minister

Medical School

Lifeline

The Dark and The Light

Dinner Redux

Father Michael

Paths Divergent

Tom and Jeannie

Monster

Locker Room

And Then The World Knew

Louise and Jeannie

Of Green Fields

Tom and Hank

Larry and Jack

Chrissy

Mother and To Be

Looking for Love

The Agency

And Finding None

Lunch with Larry

The Last Straw

Teacher’s Conference

Private Citizen Edward Barnes

Frank

Pillow Talk

Charlotte and Jeannie

Meeting

Thoughts

Mike and Hank

Letters and Thoughts 1

Target Practice

Letters and Thoughts 2

Frank Looking On

Hey, Little Girl

Test-fire

Oh, to Unsee

Or Unthink

Preparations

The Deed

Jeannie Face to Face

Luck or Miracle

The Aftermath

The Investigation

Shadows

The Altar Rail

Into The World

Bended Knee, Sort Of

Try, Try

Hopes, Fears, Dreams

Boom

Home at Last

NOT LONG AGO

He bounced the dual rear-wheel pickup truck over the rutted road toward the rigs standing idle. The drill rig parts clanked in the truck bed. These parts would replace worn parts in working rigs, and maybe those rigs would stay in service and maybe not. There was too much oil now, they said. A lot of rigs were being taken apart because they were no longer needed. The parts he carried were recycled from other rigs.

The oil fields were shutting down. Who could figure these things? Not long ago, people had been streaming here from all over the country. The money was good; the future was bright. He had needed a job, just like a lot of other people had at that time.

He and Jeannie had talked about it. It would have been a big move to uproot the entire family and go there. They still owned their house, even if just by the skin of their teeth. They had no equity, but they weren’t upside down like some of their friends. And the kids were still in school. Besides that, it sounded like things were a bit chaotic in the oil fields. They were building housing as fast as they could, but there wasn’t much for families yet. The best he could hope for was a dormitory at first.

But he needed to make a move because there was nothing in their hometown. The little business he had—running a backhoe—dried up when all the construction went bust.

There it was again: boom and bust. Well, hadn’t it always been that way? Yes, construction had ups and downs but usually not like this.

They had had some savings put aside, but it had been running out fast. He couldn’t fall back on unemployment, because he had run his business as a sole proprietor. He hadn’t formed a corporation like many of his friends had (and they had advised him to do so). They could get unemployment somehow because of that. But he couldn’t.

But anyway, even if he could, there was no way it would have been enough. They had lived a little too well, maybe when business was good. And business had been very good for a number of years. But now it wasn’t. So he had to move on, and he had to hope his family could come along later if things went well. And why wouldn’t things go well? There was plenty of work, there was plenty of oil, and the planet’s thirst for oil seemed endless. What could go wrong?

He had heard some stories from a great uncle, who said he (or was it some older person he had heard stories from in turn?) had ridden in boxcars to get to places where there was work during the Great Depression. He had said there was always work for people who were willing to go get it. He said he saw men traveling with their wives in the boxcars, even whole families.

He had come and he had found work, and it had gone well. He was still strong, and he had experience working with machinery. He came with experience driving trucks, forklifts, bulldozers, and such. He had something in common with the rough men of the oil fields, and he had fit in somewhat. But he hadn’t fit in with the ones who liked to spend their money at bars and other suspect places. He had been married from a young age, and those had never been his ways anyway. He was a straight arrow from way back.

He missed Jeannie and the kids. He would lie awake and think about them. Sometimes he had a strong urge to call Jeannie in the middle of the night, and so many times when he did, she would pick up the phone right away and tell him she had been sitting there thinking about him. And they would talk until dawn, and it seemed like he could almost reach out and touch her in the dark.

One year led to another, and somehow, they hadn’t yet worked things out to move the whole family here. They had lived in that house for so many years; the kids grew up there. The kids had friends. Jeannie’s mother was still alive and lived in the town. And maybe things would get better so that he could come back and pick up where he left off.

Now that things were slowing down, it seemed that things may have worked out for the best. He had no ties here. He was lucky he still had a job, the way things were. He had made good money and sent lots home so that they were able to keep the house and the kids could keep buying new phones and tablets and clothes and keep on spending too much money all over the place. And things were better there now, though the neighborhood had thinned out a bit and some of their friends had had to move away. And some of their friends had descended into spirals of despair as they sat there, collecting unemployment and food stamps endlessly. But many had been okay; they had weathered the storm, and life was returning to normal, such as it was. They were older now, and shit happens in life, of course. Old folks pass on, teenagers get difficult, health has its ups and downs.

As he approached the rig that would receive the parts he carried, he saw that there was a man standing there near a muddy late-model pickup. Tom recognized him. He wore a hard hat and overalls, but he was one of the owners of the company. His beard wasn’t well-trimmed and his boots were muddy, but Tom knew he wasn’t just trying to fit in with the workers. He was a working man at heart and by experience. Good sense and an ass-kicking attitude had landed him a partial ownership role in the company. He had been a foreman, but the other owners had seen in him something they wanted to keep, and the competition for talent had been intense during the boom. They had offered him an equity position.

Hey, Tom, the guy said, taking his right glove off and offering his hand. Tom took his glove off and shook the offered hand.

It was an unusual thing, Tom knew, to be greeted in this way by this guy. He wondered if the ax was about to fall.

It’s a hell of a thing, you know? the guy said. Then he just looked at the idle rigs as if he didn’t know what else to say.

Tom waited.

The guy turned away from the rigs and faced Tom. You’re a good man, Tom, he said, and I can still use you. I’ve had to let a lot of people go, but you’ve got good sense and a good attitude. But our profit margin sucks these days, or I should say, ‘What profit margin?’ But we’re not out of business yet, and we still need good people. Things will turn around. This is just temporary. Thing is, we have to cut costs, and that means cutting salaries. I want to keep you, but I have to cut your pay. He squinted as he peered into Tom’s eyes, like he was trying to read Tom’s reaction, and maybe a little bit like it hurt him to say that.

Tom couldn’t think of much to say except, How much?

Half, the guy said, squinting even more.

What?

Okay, the guy said, averting his eyes. I do like you, so I can get away with just a one-third cut. That’s all I can do right now.

Yipes, was all Tom could manage.

This wasn’t his first pay cut, but it certainly was the most extreme one. But he had been making an outrageous premium during the hottest times; this would only get him down to reality. But what good was reality when you have been at an unreal level for so long? On the other hand, he was living cheaply here and sending most of his money home, and he would still be able to send money home. But would it be enough? Would it be worth it? He rubbed the stubble on his chin and wondered.

The call came in the evening after he had eaten and before he was ready for bed when the darkness and shadows had settled into his little room and he was just sitting there in a faded easy chair, wondering about his next move.

The phone rang. When he picked it up, the voice said, Hi, Daddy.

Amanda! He stood straight up and all the darkness in the room seemed to be forgotten and was replaced by images of sunshine and laughter. How are you? It’s so good to hear from you!

I’m so sorry I never call. I miss you so much.

He wanted to lower the phone and stand there and shout out through the ceiling, Oh my God, do I miss you and everyone there! But he just squeezed the phone and squinted his eyes closed and said, I miss you too, sweetheart. I really, really do.

Well, I have some news for you, she said. There was something in her voice, a tremor of excitement.

Yeah? What news?

I’m getting married.

WHAT!

He felt a momentary swirl of vertigo and disorientation and a wish to say, No, no. Stop, as a sensation of the years flying by in an instant flashed through him, and he felt a heavy thud of regret that he had missed something—no, not just something—he had missed a lot. And he was standing there, talking to a daughter who had been in high school when he went away, and then she had gone to college, and then she had graduated and then—

Daddy?

He swallowed and managed to say, Yes, honey? His voice sounded small and squeaky.

Are you all right?

Sure, sure, he said, struggling to sound normal but not managing it. He knew he sounded like he was strangling. He paused again and, fearful of the dead air over the phone line, said, Wow, that’s great, honey. Uh, who’s, who’s the guy, the lucky guy? The luck, lucky, lucky guy, he said in his heart.

You met him last time you were here. Ed. You know. Tall, sandy hair, very handsome. The impish pixy came into her voice, that something that had long ago put a hook in his heart and landed him flopping on the ground.

Oh. He paused, trying to consult the frozen file system in his head. Ed. He pulled up a fuzzy image of a young man who had seemed nice and, indeed, kind of handsome. Oh yeah, I think I remember him.

Amanda laughed and said, You sure you’re alright?

He could picture her laughing, the delightfully shaped lips a little lopsided from being smart-alecky, and the teeth wonderful and white though not perfect unless you consider how much personality the slight imperfections gave her. But he wasn’t sure if the picture he had was of the way she looked now or more the way she looked in a sliding kaleidoscope of her growing up.

Yeah, I’m good, he said. It’s sudden.

No, not really. We’ve been together for a few years now.

Together?

Yes, of course, she said so matter-of-factly.

And there was dead air for a moment over the phone, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable to him; it was just a gentle assessment of new territory.

Okay, he said. It was all he could think of.

Of course, it would be that way. She was long past the age when— He and Jeannie had been together for a few years by the time they were Amanda’s age.

Would you like to speak to Mom?

Okay, honey. Thanks for telling me. I’m happy for you.

Okay, Daddy. I love you.

I love you too, sweetheart.

In a moment, Jeannie came on the line.

I just got a bit of eye-rolling from your daughter.

What?

Your response was a bit underwhelming except for when you yelled, ‘WHAT,’ of course

It’s kind of sudden. Like I told her.

It’s just that you’ve been away. Life has been moving along here.

I guess so. He paused. Well, maybe I won’t be away much longer.

Really?

Things are winding down here. They’re going to cut my pay way back if I stay.

Oh?

Yeah. No more gravy train. Might as well come home and take my chances, buy a new backhoe or a Bobcat. Whatever. See what happens. Things are better now, I know that business has come back there. Maybe I can pick up where I left off.

Oh, honey, she said.

What?

I’m going to cry.

Why? Don’t you want me back?

No, no. Yes! She laughed. I want you back!

JANET, 1966

She showed off her prom dress to her parents in the living room.

Oh, it’s so pretty, her mother said. Doesn’t she look pretty, Mike?

Yes, very nice.

It was hard to tell with her father. He always had his scowl on. She was used to it. Right now she was happy, so she assumed the compliment as genuine.

The doorbell rang. She peeked out the window.

It’s Ralph, she said. She went to the door. Her father went with her.

In the vestibule, he reached for the doorknob first. He held it for a moment. If you get pregnant, you’re on your own, he said softly enough that he would not he heard by her mother, who was still in the living room.

She looked at him, shocked that he would say that.

That’s what these dances are all about. I’m sure you know that. Just keep in mind that I’ll throw you out.

She didn’t know what to say. She kept her eyes downcast.

Do you understand me?

She paused a moment then whispered, Yes, Daddy.

He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Okay. Have fun tonight. He went back to the living room.

She stood there for a moment, too upset to open the door. She didn’t want to cry and ruin her makeup and everything else. She closed her eyes tight and kept them that way for a few seconds. She opened them and blinked rapidly a few times. She could tell there were little droplets on her eyelashes. It was too late to do anything about that. She opened the door.

Ralph was there, looking handsome in a new suit. She smiled. He held up a bouquet of flowers.

Oh, they’re beautiful, she said. She accepted them, and they went into the living room.

My, don’t you look nice, Ralph, her mother said.

Her father said nothing.

Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Harney.

Ralph brought these flowers, Janet said.

Aren’t they nice. Her mother rose from the couch. Shall I put them in a vase for you, sweetie?

There’s a thing for your dress too, said Ralph. It’s in with the other flowers.

Oh, the corsage, her mother said. She plucked it out.

Shall I put it on you? Ralph asked.

You put it on her, Marge, her father said.

I think the boy is supposed to do it, said her mother.

You do it, her father said.

Ralph was a perfect gentleman. She enjoyed the dances with him, the fast ones and the slow ones. Her dress was ruffly and frilly and there was plenty of it, and he was wearing the jacket and tie but still, it felt nice to be held by him for the slow dances.

Afterward, when they had some time alone, he never tried anything more than a little kiss. She was half wishing he would just rape her, so she could get pregnant and get kicked out of that house. But even the kiss was nothing much. Ralph was nice, but it was true that they did not know each other well. That didn’t stop some boys, she knew. Ralph was too nice, but she appreciated that. And she was glad there was so little temptation.

SGT. HENRY BAKER, 1968

He was frustrated that the primary