Jericho

By Ryan Miller- AKA Mike Cummings

This novel is about a woman trapped behind her self-imposed "Walls of Jericho." With her fears to expose the truth, continuing to conceal a deception so as to protect her family's name and her loathing of the masquerade called her marriage, she falls prey to the devil's will and is destined to live a life of dread and anxiety. That is until a modern-day Joshua reappears and, through his strength, love, faith, and patience, brings her into the light. Jericho is a faith-inspired novel that is based on a true story of what should have been, and as my friend John Wilson puts it, "Jericho is a great read that inspires you, and forces you to turn the page and makes you want to stand up and cheer!"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781644680469

Book preview

Table of Contents

Preface

Part 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Part 3

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Part 4

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Part 5

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Part 6

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

A Note From His Wife

9781644680469_cover.jpg

Jericho

Ryan Miller / AKA Mike Cummings

ISBN 978-1-64468-045-2 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63630-741-1 (Hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-64468-046-9 (Digital)

Copyright © 2020 Ryan Miller / AKA Mike Cummings

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books, Inc.

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Dedication

This book is dedicated posthumously to a woman whose name I have chosen to remain anonymous. But her plight, I am now convinced, could be just one in the lives of many thousands of women around the world. She, like so many others, forgot or never understood that forgiveness only comes from God, his Son, and no other.

Her talents, her compassion, and yes, her ability to love was surrendered to assure her family’s vain and self-serving reputation remain untarnished.

So to you my anonymous dreamer and to all others who have fallen prey to obedience and the annihilation of your dreams, I dedicate this novel to you and what should or might have been. The paths we choose may be laden with apprehension, fear, and dread, but to choose one solely grounded on expediency or to choose where you render yourself to the will of others can only lead to destruction. Choose your path, do not worry, for it is the right path; and then pray and never worry again.

Preface

Jericho is a novel inspired by a real-life tragedy that was originally designed as a memoir. However, when arriving at Part 3, I was inspired to create a novel and a story that could have been if only the leading character, Carlene, would have chosen through her faith, following her heart and God’s plan.

In 1954, a young girl in love discovers she is pregnant with the child of a serviceman stationed in Hawaii, David. She approaches her mother, looking for compassion and guidance, only to find rejection and condemnation. Under the threat of being disowned, she throws her heart and soul away, breaking the heart of her true love, and agrees to marry another her mother arranged for her.

As the years drift by, Carlene built walls about her to hide her disgrace, her disdain for her marriage, and how she abhorred whom she had become. Then in 1961, she learns of the death of her true love, David, and she plunges deeper into depression, knowing now that her fate was sealed and any hope of bringing that once vibrant young girl of her past back to life was now doomed and her life today would never change. She hides in fear and disguises her feelings at all cost; she becomes ill and turns her abusive behavior toward her children, blaming them for her plight; and she wishes only for death.

Throughout these years, David was not dead; he remained silently patient yet close. He moves from California to Georgia, just to be close to his daughter and Carlene. His life was all but confined to that of a bystander as he waits and prays.

Then in 1971, a miracle was about to unfold; a door to a future was about to open and two souls were to discover that even the impossible is only a mere pebble in the road to someone once you give your life to him. Like the biblical Joshua of yore, David, through his faith, begins attacking Carlene’s fears and insecurities, and the walls built strong and tall for so many years begin to fall, and a new path is given to the light.

Part 1

Reflections of Life before Jericho (1941–1955)

Chapter 1

The Early Years

God, how I loathed high school—the dress codes; the stuck-up snobs on the football team; the prim and proper all those conceited sweater-wearers; and yet the most idiotic and dim-witted thing I detested the most, the humiliating off-color nicknames, and back in forty-nine, it seemed like everyone had one. They used stupid names like Bulldog, Legs, Shooter, and Bubbles and hundreds of others. They, that would be the so-called in crowd, called me Chip. I hated that name, and I did my best to punch out anyone who called me that! Where I grew up, Chip meant you had a chip on your shoulder about something you would or could never tell anyone about or let go of. Sure, I guess it fits have I had problems, but they sure as hell weren’t things I was willing to share with anyone.

If the truth be known, I never got over losing my Pop when I was eight years old. Dad was more of an iconic figure to me, and although he was never really a stand-up father, I loved him more than I ever let anyone know. I suppose his career in aviation with Boeing Aircraft out of Burbank’s Bob Hope Airport got in the way. But I needed him, and seldom was he there, which even now hurts. Back in 1934, the airport was called Union Air Terminal, and Dad flew DC-3s, transporting cargo around the United States. This kept him away from home, sometimes for months at a time! Then on a Sunday, December 7, 1941, at 11:30 a.m., news of Pearl Harbor hit the airwaves, and with it, any hopes I might have had about a normal life with my father died with that newscast.

The next day, Dad enlisted, and I really don’t remember ever seeing him again. He, for the most part, became only a memory seldom talked about. Yet still he remains my hero and the toughest man I ever knew. Dad was shot down flying a mission over Mid-Way Island in the South Pacific, piloting a Grumman F4F Wildcat. He lost his life that day, along with over 50 percent of his entire squadron, and I lost my father. Mom received a letter from Dad about a week after we were told of his death, and buried on page three was a special note to me.

Son, tomorrow we’re flying into a pretty big mess and I may never come home to you and I guess I may never again see those blue eyes as you look to me for guidance, but I will always be with you, son, and love you. Just do me one favor, when that special girl comes along, and like me, you will know it.

never let her go, pal

! I love you.—Dad

I would carry that letter in my wallet for the rest of my life.

Over the ensuing eight years, I recall very little, it was almost as though Mom and I had become lepers to the rest of the world. No Boy Scouts, baseball teams, PTA meetings, or anything remotely social. The world had left us behind. Then in 1947, things changed, well, at least for me. I was a sophomore in high school with a chip on my shoulder, a mile wide. No matter what I tried sports-wise, well, nothing seemed to fit. Then while watching TV one night, I found an identity I wanted and frankly defined who I would become.

A riot broke out in Hollister, California, between rival motorcycle clubs, which obviously was sensationalized and blown completely out of proportion by the news media—TV, radio, and newspapers across America. However, once I found out that these clubs were made up of mostly returning GIs from the war, I felt a sort of kinship with them, fantasizing that if my father were still alive, he would have been there with them. I read everything I could get my hands on about those clubs and what actually happened in Hollister. What I found gave me pause and shaped a new identity I would proudly display for the next fifty years. What the American people could never understand is that these war heroes had just given up four-plus years of their lives with guns in their hands, low crawling through mud-covered filth, flying missions over hostel countries, dodging machine gun barrages, and doing everything they could do to stay alive while defending our freedom thousands of miles from home.

The fear, anger, and the pain they felt would not soon go away, and they found their version of society and normalcy through big and fast motorcycles, hard liquor, and at times fighting each other and raising hell to starve off their inner anxieties. I’m positive Dad would have been one of them, so I decided this would be me, living a life Dad would have been proud to be a part of.

The next day, I began my search for a motorcycle that might have been popular with The Boozefighters Motorcycle Club during the Hollister Riot. Two weeks later, I got a lead on an old-timer, a Mr. Piney Pine, who actually worked on the bikes this club rode at Hollister. Mr. Pine lived in Palmdale, about seventy-five miles from my home, in Lawndale, California. I called Mr. Pine the next day and told him my story, and he told me he had a 1942 Model E Harley Knucklehead Bobber motorcycle with an upgraded eighty-cubic-inch (1340cc) motor that was loud, light, and fast but needed some work. Two days later, I met Mr. Pine, and we settled on a price. Over the next six weeks, I worked with Piney bringing this bike back to life, making it almost showroom new.

From here on, I wore blue jeans, heavy black biker boots, a black T-shirt and a tight-fitting black leather jacket with wide lapels. My high school life changed overnight from the first day I roared into the school parking lot. I even changed my hairstyle, now sporting a DA (duck’s ass) or more commonly referred to as a ducktail, which gave me a reputation as a rebellious youth and a bad boy image simply based on how I dressed and what I rode; I was branded a rebel! I could barely believe it. Last month, I was just a plain mama’s boy with a chip on his shoulder, and now today I am a rebel and feared by most. Go figure. Did I like this new image? Oh please, give me a break, I loved it!

Over the next two years, mainly in the summer months when school was out, Piney and I became thicker than thieves. Piney taught me motorcycle and auto mechanics and then introduced me to Mr. Rudolph Rudy Conrad, a man he revered as the best motorcycle and stock car driver he ever knew. Rudy put me through hell, developing my skills on motorcycles and building my body from a five-foot-six-inch thin build into a five-foot-nine, one-hundred-and-sixty-five-pound, hard-as-nails physique. I could outride and outfight just about anyone I had ever met. Between the two of them, giving me their wisdom, I entered and won countless off-road and drag racing events before I entered my senior year at high school.

My senior year was now clearly different than my freshman or sophomore years; I was now a big man on campus, and no one messed with me. Girls flocked to me, and most of the guys feared and steered clear of me. There was one exception, not from the guys but from of all people, my mother! Mom did not ask me if I would do something; she, for the most part, told me what to do, and today’s request, order, was to take a young freshman, Carlene, our next-door neighbor, to school and then bring her home.

Mom, Carlene’s a freshman. She’s skinny, flat-chested, has dorky short hair, and looks strange with her out-of-style glasses. I’ll be the laughing stock of the whole school!

David, young man, Carlene is my best friend’s daughter, and you’re going to do this as a favor to me and my friend!

I knew I was sunk because when Mom makes up her mind about something, well, let’s just say, you better do it!

God, I hated this at first, but to tell you the truth, throughout that year, I got to know Carlene as something more than just a little punk kid. She was different, at times annoying, but we wound up becoming very close, not in a romantic way but more like a big brother and little sister team, often sharing our innermost thoughts and secrets.

I opened up to Carlene more than I ever had to anyone, even my mother. She was the only person I ever let read the letter my dad sent the day before he was killed, and I told her the story of Hollister and how those events changed my life. She seemed to have this uncanny ability to understand me, and although it was obvious she had a crush on me, she never let her guard down and never made me feel uncomfortable.

Over that year, Carlene told me all about her father and mother’s farm and cattle ranch and the many charms of the magical, if not mystical, Southern landscape stretching for hundreds of miles throughout the Tennessee hills and valleys. Her stories, along with the movies of our times—Gone with the Wind, Huckleberry Finn, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and Cat of a Hot Tin Roof—built and brought to life new visions and a calling of sorts that maybe someday I would call this section of the states home, find that special girl, and raise a family. I don’t think she realized it at the time, but that punk little kid had uncovered and brought back to life that emotional soft side of me I guess I had buried along with my dad back in 1942.

Believe it or not, Carlene was the only reason I stayed in school after I turned eighteen, and I actually graduated with honors; not too shabby for a badass rebel! After high school, I just drifted around for the next year. I continued to take Carlene to school but my life was going nowhere. I was growing bored of the same monotonous and relentless routines, and it felt like I was just treading water. Today became nothing more than a rerun of yesterday, and tomorrow will be another sleepwalk through time. Most of the folks I knew were envious of me, but honestly, I was not growing or going anywhere.

I had a decent job, but I was still just another grease jockey and a self-proclaimed moonlight Casanova moving in and out of meaningless relationships. Even the weekend motorcycle races and countless victories became blasé, like a quick fix, and then hollow.

Chapter 2

A Beginning and Then Destruction

In late 1950 and with a war raging in Korea, I decided I would enlist in the United States Air Force, for the most part just to get away and I suppose somewhat because of my father. I told the recruiter I wanted to fly combat missions, but after basic training and then washing out in flight school, I was deployed to Hickam Air Force Base in Hawaii and assigned, based on my prior training, to the motor pool. Amazing, I make all these life-altering changes, and I’m still a grease monkey! During this time, I received, well, at first, scads of letters from the girls I dated over the last two years, and then as the months drifted away, so did the letters, well, except for the letters from one girl, Carlene. She never failed; I got at least a letter a week from her. Funny out of all the women I knew, she would be the only one to stand by me and prop me up with how proud she was of me during these tough times.

In one letter, she told me of a boy I only knew as a pinhead, a skinny runt named Bill, who was constantly trying to get to know her. He would pass her in the hall and only say, Hi, pal! Then one day, he asked if he could drive her home. Carlene said, Sure, why not, but do you know where I live?

I think so, but if we get lost, well, I guess we can just play it by ear and see what happens.

When I read this, for some odd reason, I had this unfounded sensation; I was fearful of what she might do! Oh my God, David, are you seriously jealous?

In a few of the letters she wrote to me, I detected a different tone, an air about her I had never noticed before and certainly not something that skinny girl next door would ever write. It was pretty obvious she started using words like warmth, desire, and passion and phrases like I could feel his cravings for her when talking about a movie she had just seen.

I became aware that she was no longer the little sidekick I remembered; she was a blossoming young woman, moving into a stage of her life where she was beginning to accept and, as you might expect, long to flaunt her womanhood and enjoy her sexuality. I asked her dozens of times to send me a few pictures, but at each request, she said nope and then followed every time with You’ll have to see for yourself? Why the question mark? Was she teasing me, or was she trying to remain a mystery and one I believe she knew I would be compelled to solve?

Carlene kept this same routine up over the next few years, and then in 1954, during the holidays, I requested and received a two-week furlough leave to return home. I had not been home in over three and a half years, and Mom was very excited. I gained a seat on an air transport flight to the Los Angeles Airport, just miles from my home. We arrived in Los Angeles about seven in the morning, and I took a cab to our home. Mom greeted me at the door, crying as usual, and we spent the next several hours reflecting on my position in the Air Force and those things happening at home. I think it was about three in the afternoon when she, Carlene, stopped by Mom’s house, and after the usual pleasantries, Carlene asked, David, a bunch of my friends are putting together a beach party at the pits in Redondo Beach. Why don’t you go with me?

Carlene, that sounds like fun, but this is my first day back, and I think it would be better if I spent time with Mom.

Mom jumped in, David, I know you love me, but we’ll have lots of time together, so I really would like it if you joined Carlene and have some fun with kids your own age.

No, Mom, I really want to spend time with you.

Now, David, don’t argue with me. You need to get out and maybe have some fun and sow those wild oats!

Are you sure, Mom?

Go on now, you’ve earned a little playtime.

I turned to Carlene and said, All right, I guess I’ll go!

She replied, Great, come on, we’ll take my car, and by the way, my little sister will be going with us. I hope that’s okay?

Sure, why not! The more the merrier!

As we loaded up the car, I reflected back to high school, remembering that flat-chested punk, a four-eyed kid I took to school. I knew she had changed from her letters, but I never really imagined or gave a second thought before that Carlene might now be a woman; she was all of that and more! She turned twenty last month, and she radiated with passion and sported an outward expression and enthusiasm to be held and to be loved. I was smitten at first sight, and then I remembered Dad and his last letter to me: Never let her go. Funny, she was there all the time, just waiting for me or me waiting for her to grow into womanhood. She was still the only person on the planet I had ever opened up to about my dreams, my passions, and yes, my fears.

I knew right then that I needed her in my life; just looking at her stilled the emptiness that had plagued and gnawed at me ever since the death of my father. Call it destiny, call it whatever you like, I’ll just call it kismet, as she was there all those years hidden from my view yet still in plain sight. Now I know why she would not send any pictures; she wanted me to experience her and not just be a still photograph, a pinup, hanging in a locker. Bright girl!

Redondo Beach was only a short fifteen minutes’ drive from Lawndale, and I had so many questions for Carlene; it seemed like we got there in just a few minutes. The place was rocking! Music blasted from every car parked along the beach. Rock Around the Clock by Bill Haley, Shake, Rattle, and Roll by Bill Haley, Earth Angel by The Penguins, That’s All Right by Elvis, and of course, I’ve Got a Woman by Ray Charles filled the early evening air.

Most of the kids were dancing around the firepit or playing in the ocean, but some had very suspiciously wandered off arm in arm. It was getting near sunset, almost five o’clock, when Carlene ran up to me and said, Hey, David, walk with me. I want to show you something. And bring a few towels.

All right, I’m game, but what about your little sister?

She’ll be fine, there she is… Sharrell, hey, Sharrell, David and I are going for a walk. Have fun and stay out of the water!

All right, I’ll stay out of the water, but who am I supposed to have fun with?

What about Tony? He’s your age.

"Tony! Give me a flipping break, I’ll be fine but not with Tony! Just don’t be gone for too long."

Okay, little sis, we’ll catch you on the flip side.

Carlene led me about a half mile up the beach to a dunned area a bit secluded from everyone else, and with the sun now sinking slowly into the Pacific Ocean, she said, David, kiss me?

With the music still faintly playing in the background coupled with the glow of the setting sun and the roar of the blue Pacific, I kissed her. This was the first time we had ever kissed, yet I knew as soon as her lips touched mine, this kiss was just a prelude to what she wanted and something I could have never anticipated. We kissed as passionately as I could have ever imagined, embracing each other like the dawning of sateen gloves molding and intertwining our bodies, yielding and submitting to each other as we slowly found our way to the warm beach sand.

Mesmerized by her beauty, awestruck with her passion, and captivated by her desires, I began to make love to her as she eagerly, almost cheerfully yet silently exposed the inner warmth of a full-bodied, passionate, and responsive woman. No words were spoken, yet volumes of passions and dreams were exposed as we discovered each other’s desires consuming each other in ways that were only meant for only us.

We made love twice that afternoon and into the evening with more emotion than I had ever felt. I could sense we both were struggling with the same thoughts—was this a consummation of our love, a fling of lust and passion, or might this be the rebirth of my compassion I surrendered so many years ago?

The main question I had rattling around in my mind was, why now and why here? It was pretty obvious she had this well planned out, insisting that I bring those blankets and then knowing exactly where to go on the beach and wasting no time once we got there. I knew this really wasn’t the place or time to ask, but I had to know!

Carlene, please don’t be offended and for God’s sake don’t get mad, but I need to ask you—

David, you don’t need to ask, I have had a crush on you ever since high school, and then through your letters, I found a side of you that was so sincere, so genuine and compelling. I fell in love with you. I’ve been planning and daydreaming about this day over the last five years. All I’ve ever wanted to do was to give my love to you, and only to you, and be something more than that punk kid you once knew.

You little minx, do you have any idea how I have felt about you? I know it sounds strange, baby, and this might surprise you, but the oddest thing happened when you teased me by not sending any pictures of you, and your words—’You need to wait and see the real thing’—has preyed on my mind every day of my life! But now loving you, feeling you, and becoming one with you, my future has been found. Remember always, you’ll always be my flirtatious young and alluring woman, my perfect little minx, and I will always love you.

We lay there for the next couple of hours, holding and kissing each other like two lovers marooned on a deserted island, oblivious to the outside world.

Time had drifted away, and it was now almost eight o’clock. We needed to get back and check on her little sister, whom I was sure was wondering just what we might have been doing all this time. We walked slowly back to the firepit to find that most of the kids had already left, but there was Sharrell sitting quietly in the car.

Hey, you guys, where have you been?

Oh, David and I were just talking and lost track of time.

Sure you did. What do you take me for? I know what you two were doing. I’m not a little kid!

You better keep your trap shut.

Don’t worry, big sis. Someday I’ll be on that beach with a boy, so will you keep your trap shut?

After we got back to her parents’ place, I went in to say hello and stayed until about nine thirty talking about military life and the Hawaiian Islands. None of them had ever traveled to the islands but had seen some of the travel reels and magazines. I told them that some of the islands were really beautiful but that with all the construction going on, it was still pretty limited. Carlene jumped into the conversation.

Do you think I would fit in living in Hawaii?

Her mother Opal was not amused and gave me a squint I would not soon forget. I felt an urge to get out of there and excuse myself at the first opening!

The next day, Mom woke me up, letting me know that Carlene was waiting for me in the living room.

Mom, it’s only seven o’clock. I haven’t had a good night sleep in two years. Tell her to come back at ten!

David, young man, you get out of that bed right now. Carlene has something to show you.

Okay, okay, for Pete’s sake, I’ll get up!

I came out in boxers and a robe, asking, Carlene, why so early?

I want to show you something.

Can’t it wait?

Nope, it can’t wait.

She led me out to the garage, opened the pull-up door, and there was my baby Jake, my 1942 Harley, as trimmed out and as perfect as I could have imagined. How?

Simple, silly, your buddies Piney and Rudy did a complete overhaul, polished, and brought your baby back to life. About that time, Piney and Rudy jumped out.

Happy homecoming, tough guy. Up for a race around the block?

Carlene screamed, Are you guys nuts?

That’s right, baby, get a flag to wave home the winner.

We spun the tires and tore off rounding one corner after another. This was a pretty big block, almost a full mile race, but in the end, I crossed the finish line, back at the house, and hit the brakes at about ninety miles per hour. Piney and Rudy yelled out, Take a victory lap, Junior. You’ve earned it!

Carlene jumped on the back of Jake, and we made a lap around the neighborhood, much to the dismay of her neighbors, as I was still in boxers with my robe flying behind. It was amazing Carlene’s mother did not hear and see this, but I was pretty sure she caught wind of it.

Over the next two weeks, Carlene and I were inseparable, seeing each other daily either riding my motorcycle, going to the movies or the beach, and each night sneaking into her trailer behind her parents’ house.

At the end of the two weeks, Carlene drove me to the airport, and we said our goodbyes with a promise to never lose each other or our love again.

You know, honey, I’ll have another leave in six months, and if we are married, I can bring you to Hawaii.

David, I want to marry you with all my heart, but you know how Mother feels about you, and this will be very difficult.

So what does that mean?

Carlene, I love you. Tell me yes today.

David, yes, I will marry you. Just give me some time to make it right with Mother.

All right, baby, you’ve got six months to work this out. Now give me a kiss and a promise of the nights ahead.

Part 2

Lives Shattered

Chapter 3

A Tragic Phone Call

It was hard saying goodbye to Carlene that morning, she was the heart and soul of everything I had searched for all my life and now I am forced to leave her behind. Cruel, well, maybe to some, but now for the first time, I am secure in knowing I have someone with the brightest green eyes I had ever seen, anxiously awaiting my return. Call it serendipity, call it kismet or simply call it fate but the last two weeks were the most amazing of my life showing me a tenderness I never knew could exist for me, yet one now I will never surrender and cherish for the rest of my life. I am still in a state of shock, somewhat of disbelief, but this time I know it is true, in about six months I’ll be marrying that punk little kid Mom forced me to take to school, say, you don’t suppose Mom could have…nah!

I had been back at the base in Hawaii for about two weeks, and although I had written Carlene several letters I had not heard back from her, which I thought was peculiar, I wrote it off as only the usual delays in our government mail service. In the last letter, I even told her how, if need be, she could contact me via telephone, just in case the cat got out of the bag and her mother started causing problems.

It was about two p.m. Hawaiian time when Toby, a clerk from the Captain’s office came running in;

Hey, David, you have a stateside call from California, better hustle.

Who’s the call from?

I don’t know, but come on man, look sharp, and I mean run David run.

Fear raced through my mind, was my mom all right, did Grandmother pass away; something must be awfully wrong as no one had ever called me before.

Arriving at the Captain’s office I heard the clerk tell the operator.

Operator, operator I have David here now, please try and connect the call.

Just one moment sir, I’ll connect the call.

A few minutes later, a woman on the other end of the line screamed!

David, are you there?

Yes, this is David, I’m here.

All I could make out at the time was a woman crying hysterically, then.

David, it’s Carlene, I’m pregnant!

Carlene, calm down I can’t make out what you’re saying.

David, I said I’m pregnant.

How do you know, baby?

I missed my period a week ago, and I got checked out this morning. I’m pregnant, what are we going to do?

Carlene, I’m in the military, I can’t just up and walk off, I think we should give it some time to figure what options we have.

"I can’t do that, my mother has already disowned me and told me to move away. David, I can’t lose my mother and my family."

"

O

kay, honey, but who else knows?"

No one, Mother insisted on that!

Maybe if I talked with your father and told him that we are in love and we just made a mistake?

No, no, no! Mother told me not to tell anyone, especially my father. You know Dad, I would be disowned on the spot, and then he’d probably get drunk and vow to kill me or whoever did this to me.

Promise me you never tell anyone!

Carlene being pregnant isn’t so bad, we’ll just have a jump-start on a family and after we are married everything will be fine.

I told Mother that I could go to Hawaii or marry Bill.

Bill Stein? He’s a little wimp, with no future and he’s two years younger than you.

I know, but I have to do something quick!

"Look, baby, it will take some time, I need to talk with