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False Expectations
False Expectations
False Expectations
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False Expectations

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Paul Greener is informed of the family plan to build a railroad across West Texas, which had been years in the making. They have a few connections that get them in the door, and they quickly learn there are limited people to trust. As outsiders, they aren’t taken as seriously as they would like. The Greener family must learn the hard way about what it takes to make it in a brutal industry.
LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateJan 9, 2024
ISBN9781663253156
False Expectations

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    Book preview

    False Expectations - Luke Lonnemann

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    FALSE EXPECTATIONS

    LUKE LONNEMANN

    FALSE EXPECTATIONS

    Copyright © 2023 Luke Lonnemann.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    iUniverse

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.iuniverse.com

    844-349-9409

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    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.

    ISBN: 978-1-6632-5314-9 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6632-5315-6 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2023921998

    iUniverse rev. date: 12/14/2023

    Contents

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    3

    4

    5

    6

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    8

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    1

    West Texas, 1895

    I ADMIRED MY MOM and pop, Mary and Sam. They met back east in Pennsylvania when they were growing up. They connected when he was twenty-two and she was nineteen. Their marriage was a no doubter. After my pop served in the War, they came out to Mooncollar for a new life. They had a house built and started up a cotton field. Cotton fields were rare in that part of Texas. The area was best known for the cotton fields because they were actually able to nurture them properly. My family was lucky my pop’s pop had money. He sold weapons in the War. The family made millions off of it. He died and the fortune was split between my pop and my Uncle John. My mom and pop were able to get the capital to start up and provide their own cotton field there. They then had me. From what I understood, I came close to killing my mom on my way out. My parents gave up on having any more kids. They were old enough when they had me, anyway. That led to me working in the field since I was rather small. I never minded it. It gave me purpose. With my pop, too, it was best just to fall into line. I remember him telling me many times in my early years that I should listen closely to him and my mom.

    When I was tiny, my mom would watch me while she took care of everything around the house. She would run around all day, making sure everything would run smoothly inside. She did the things my pop was incapable of: cleaning the house, dishes, and clothes; watering, sweeping, cooking, parenting. The list could go on. She taught me about life. Her feelings weren’t hurt when I graduated to work in the field. That was the only life that made sense to me growing up.

    When I did get old enough to work in the farm, my pop didn’t shy away from working me. Hard. We kept busy from the time the rooster crowed until the moon came out. We only took breaks to eat, drink water, and relieve ourselves. It didn’t matter much to me, and my pop always made it out like we were doing some almighty work. It was just work in the field, every day feeling the same. At the time, I invited the consistency. I prospered knowing how to work in a field. If anything changed, it would be okay since it was my pop who was the one making the decisions. I would’ve followed him blindly off a cliff.

    I vividly remember when things shifted. The sun was going away for the day. I was looking at the green plants with the white cotton hanging off them. The lengthy field sat behind my folks’ one story, wooden house. I was twenty-six at the time, picking the cotton. I had a large brown basket to put the cotton in. The basket was almost full. My back was hurting. The entire day was hot as hell. So it was usual for us. I could feel the day coming to an end.

    I looked over to my pop. This basket’s done. Need me to do anymore? It’s just about getting dark… I was sometimes nervous around him and would dance around an idea instead of asking him directly. He could be an intimidating man. My mom seemed to be the only one who could put up with him all the time. Lovingly and unconditionally and all that nonsense.

    We’ll keep working until we can’t see or your mother calls us in for dinner. He was alternating between picking the cotton and digging in the dirt, switching every so often. We’d been working all day, but he could still go for hours more. Even though he had almost forty years on me, he still had more energy than I did. I didn’t know where the hell he got it from. He worked his hardest when time was running out. I couldn’t say I gave my greatest effort at the end of the day.

    You got it, Pop. My eyes were wide open and my lips were curled down as I said it to him. I never had the nerve to back him down. He then glanced over at me, and we locked eyes. He looked at me with his eyebrows slanted that sent a chill down my spine. As though he was standing over me from twenty yards away, saying, "Get back to work or I’ll make you get back to work." I regretted saying anything and got picking again.

    My mom called us in for dinner shortly after. I dropped my things and started to head inside. While I was walking in, my pop stood there. He looked around the farm, the house, and his land. He was proud of all of it. He was there with his wife. His son was working with him. He knew that his family would be okay with him overseeing them.

    There was a deep safe behind a painting in my parents’ bedroom. The painting was of a river and the surrounding landscape. There were green trees, a wheat field, and a valley that led to a river. An orange sunset overlooked the scene. It was a beautiful painting, but it was really only there to cover the safe. As far as I knew, he had more money than I could count in there. I did know about the sizable handguns, ready to use. I was never allowed to look inside. Even though I was old enough to shoot a gun, he would never let me look in that damn safe. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. It bothered me. I got the idea he didn’t fully trust me. I heard him messing around with the painting, followed by a slight creak when he opened the safe. He played around with it constantly, which intrigued me even more. Even my mom knew better than to get in between him and his safe.

    I was in the kitchen and dinner was about ready. My mom was putting together expected numbers for the week. She was doing this as she made dinner. She made the food, set the table, and cleaned it up every night. Most nights she would be able to come up with a new meal or something that we didn’t eat much. Dinner never disappointed. She took care of everything inside the house without any help. There was always more to do, from what I saw. My pop came in from the other room and sat down. My mom cleared off her papers and then put the food on the table. As soon as she sat down, we started eating. I was eating slowly. The day really wore me out, and I wanted to enjoy my food. My pop was pounding away on his meal like there wasn’t enough. The reality was that my mom always made too much. He poured himself a hefty drink of whiskey.

    I glanced at the drink and then up to my pop. Tell me something about your past life.

    He took a strong gulp. What do you want to know?

    I leaned in close to him. Anything you want to tell me.

    There were good times with your mother. The War came. Being away from her was a difficult time. I doubt she wants to hear about the War, though. He could only talk about it when he was drinking. He took a deep look at her.

    My mom looked back to him. She had a soft smile. You can tell him whatever you want, Sam. I can handle it.

    Were you ever a hero? I asked my pop.

    My pop thought about it for a second. There are no heroes in war. The only thing you really need to know about what I did is that I helped men on my side survive. I got out alive. Your mother waited for me. We have our life out here now.

    My mom was glancing at me. He’s right, Paul.

    You shouldn’t be stuck in the past. We need to look to the future.

    I returned to my pop. What else is there besides our cotton?

    There’s something else. Something we haven’t told you yet. We’re working towards it. Slowly.

    My mom nodded along. Tell him all about it.

    Indeed. He needs to know.

    I was looking back and forth between them. What is it?

    My pop sat up. It all starts with the way work is done around here. Crops, ranching, and transportation.

    I don’t see what else could be done.

    Tell me what we do as it is now.

    Well, you know, we pick the cotton, we gather it up. We go into town at the end of the week. The wagons come by and we sell it.

    He had his head tilted down so his eyes were looking up at me. Don’t you see the problem?

    I guess the system for pick-ups could be better. But we’ve been doing it the way it has always been done.

    And that’s why things need to change.

    We make a fine living. What kind of innovation are you talking about?

    This isn’t just for us. It’s for this whole community.

    I’m all ears.

    He opened his sitting position like he was addressing a room full of people. You’re right about the pick-ups. The whole issue is the wagons coming by and collecting our crops.

    What more could be done?

    I have ideas for making the process much more efficient… It’s locomotives. They are the present and future of transportation. They will be central to the way we do things around here.

    I shook my head. I don’t see where we come in.

    When my father died, he left behind a substantial fortune for my brother and me. Between that money, the money your mother has been able to save, the money from our field, we’re going to build a railway. From here to Dallas.

    My eyes popped open. What? Our own railroad?

    That’s right. You can’t tell anyone about this. Never reveal our plan until the time comes. You know, what? I’ll be the one revealing the plan, so don’t talk about it. Just don’t do it. I was never going to betray the family plan.

    And Mom, you’re in on this?

    All the way. Have been from the start, she immediately said.

    Behind every project, my mom was there. Every decision made in the house, some of them out in the field, and the finances went through my mom. The important things. She was the one pulling the strings. She gave my pop the okay to go ahead with his ideas. With every man, powerful or not, there was a woman who was running his life. My pop liked to make a big deal out that he was running his house and his field and his family. He wouldn’t admit how much help he was getting from the rest of us. I was fond of my pop for many reasons, but I never understood his macho bullshit.

    Trains... What led to this?

    When you first sit down, and the train starts to rumble off... my mom leaned in. There’s nothing like it. When your father and I took our first ride on a train, we knew we had to have a piece in that world. This is a dream that started on our first train ride, and it hasn’t lost any juice since.

    This is why I love you, Mary, my pop said with a grin. He then turned to me. Your mother gets it.

    I looked at my mom. She certainly does... She sat there, her cheeks all red.

    My pop looked around the table and pulled out one of his cigars. Is everyone finished? Can I light this up?

    I sat back. I’m done.

    Smoke your heart out, dear.

    My pop glanced over. So, Paul… Do you want to go along with this?

    I hesitated for a moment. I just—I thought you needed connections to get these kinds of deals done. Especially for a project this big.

    My brother has money to invest when the time comes. He knows the plan; he just isn’t as interested in the building of it. Only the financial side of it. He wants to have everything worked out first. There’s also another guy I know. He knows people, and he’ll help. Those men will help us get a foot in the door.

    I see. Who’s the other man?

    Wilkins. I’d be shocked if you remembered him. He doesn’t come around much.

    No, I don’t really. I’ll have to get reconnected with him.

    I’ll make that happen.

    So, when will we have it all together?

    He took a long pull off his cigar. Just a load or two more of crops will do it. We’re so close.

    I want in.

    My pop nodded. I always wanted to run one of those damn trains. He had the tiniest smirk on his face when the talk of trains came about. It gave him life.

    What’s going to be different about our train and our route?

    There’s a passage. Mary, where’s the map? He started pointing around the room at nothing, or maybe the map that wasn’t in his palms yet. He talked with his hands when you got him going.

    I’ll go get it. She walked off to the other room briefly.

    We have a spot, but we need to act fast.

    My mom returned with the map. She handed it to my pop. They had a map ready for any possible situation. Big maps, small maps, and precise maps. There were many around.

    Oh, good. Thanks, love.

    My mom cleared the dishes in front of my pop. My pop spread the map out in front of him. It was a large map of Texas. It covered almost half the table. We put down glasses on the corners so it wouldn’t curl back up.

    Take a look, my pop continued, signaling me over. Come here.

    I leaned in close and took a good look at the map. My pop began marking it to show me.

    There’s already a route that runs horizontally across the state, okay? Since we can’t connect to the current track, we’re gonna have to build a bridge over the existing track, no problem. And there are these random, substantial mountains here. In these mountains, there is a viable passage that a railroad could run through. Part of the financing is going to be blowing a hole where there is a break in the mountains. It’s a way to get the track through without going around or over. It’ll save a serious amount of money and building. Ours is going to run over the other tracks and it’ll go through the mountains, connecting it to our town. Dallas to Mooncollar is a few hundred miles, so it’ll be a portion of this state. It’s not possible without this passage. We are considering how far south Mooncollar is from Odessa. Ours is going to end slightly North of Dallas. The two tracks will run close together, but that’s okay. Do you understand?

    My pop showing this to me cleared some things up. It was going to work, but not by much. I was surprised no one had acted on the opportunity already. They would subtly bring up how much of the state was being covered with tracks. It all had a purpose. The way my pop explained it, the plan couldn’t miss.

    I leaned in closer to him. I think I got it. You’ll have to show me exactly where this is.

    And that time will come. Do you have any questions?

    A couple. Why did you keep this from me?

    We didn’t want this to slip out of the family. The fact that he didn’t trust me enough to tell me earlier bothered me. It’s not like I had a big mouth.

    I nodded without saying anything.

    My pop went on. Directly, we wanted to make sure that you were mature enough. That you wouldn’t go and tell someone. You wouldn’t have been ready to hear it until now. He could’ve given me any reason and I still wouldn’t have agreed with it.

    I could’ve kept it quiet.

    It doesn’t matter. We’re telling you now. Can’t do anything differently.

    I understand. When do I get to ride on one? All the talk about it made me hungry to go for a ride.

    We’re going to get tickets soon. We can show you what it’s like. I’ll get it together in the next week or so now that I know you’re in.

    All right. I look forward to it. I really do.

    My pop looked at me with his eyebrows near his hairline. Don’t let this distract you from your duties. We still need all you can do around here.

    Of course. I won’t slack. I was his son, after all.

    Do you want to come with me when I purchase the tickets?

    Absolutely.

    Great, son.

    2

    THE NEXT DAY, THE afternoon sun was boiling on my pop and me while we picked the cotton. Sweat dripped down my face and body as I breathed heavily in the heat. The day was going by quickly, at least. We were busy and hadn’t had much of a break besides sipping some water every now and then. Physically I was there, picking away at the cotton. My mind, though, was on the discussion the night prior, about the locomotive project. We only had to work in the field for a little bit longer until we were where we needed to go. There was suddenly an idea on the horizon that was worth working towards. There was still a lingering feeling of bother within me, the fact that they waited so long to tell me all about it. I suspected that it was all my pop’s idea.

    Our neighbor and friend of our family, William Lassing, came strolling on over. They had the closest field to my family’s. We saw them often. Emma, William’s wife, was the closest thing my mom had to family in the area, besides my pop and me. William would show his face whenever he needed help. My pop would have difficulty saying no because he would get an earful about it from my mom if he declined. My pop and William weren’t close. I’m sure my pop would say the same thing. William, though, I was convinced he thought my pop and him were like relatives. But coming to their assistance didn’t kill me like it did my pop.

    Hey, Sam! William projected it and crossed the field, waving about. He wanted to make his presence known, as if we weren’t going to see or hear him. I looked over at my pop and he rolled his eyes, because it could have only been one thing at this point in the day.

    My pop stood and wiped some sweat off as William walked over to him. I was within hearing distance. William. What is it? He already had his arms crossed. William had no idea how to take a hint or read other people’s body language. He didn’t know how to. I don’t think my pop was ever happy about getting one of William’s requests. William kept coming over and asking for help with this, that, or the other. My pop always told me that William, or any other man, should be able to handle his field without asking for help. The principle drove my pop mad.

    My two younger boys are having trouble with the heat. It ain’t usually this bad on ’em. William always had some bullshit line that we had to buy into. My pop only looked at him. William went on. Would you care to come help for a couple hours?

    My pop turned to me, as if he didn’t know it was possible. How we doing?

    We’re ahead. Way ahead.

    My pop’s face completely dropped. He then turned back to William. I suppose so. Give us a few to wrap up what we’re doing here.

    That’s perfectly fine. I’ll be over there. Thanks, Paul.

    And William walked back to his field, high stepping his way back. My pop watched him go and rubbed the bottom of his chin. He went back to his spot, letting out a heavy sigh, resuming what he was doing.

    What is it, Pop?

    Just because our wives are close doesn’t mean that we have to help them all the time. He glanced back at William walking away, now further in the distance and closer to his field.

    It’s what we do around here.

    The ineptitude drives me crazy.

    I understand.

    No, you don’t. We could get behind tomorrow now.

    We should be all right, truly.

    Uh-huh. We’ll see about that. We work so hard to get ahead, only to fall behind.

    If you didn’t want to do it, then why did you ask me in the first place?

    Don’t snap back at me, he hissed to me. I won’t put up with that.

    Yes, sir, was all I had to say. I knew I couldn’t pursue it any further.

    We went back to picking for a few moments longer. We picked in silence, and from my end I could feel much tension.

    Ugh… Are you finished with what you’ve been working on? My pop finally asked me.

    Yes, sir, I’m at a good stopping point. Calling him sir made him feel good, so I tried to say when I could.

    Fine. Let’s head on over there so we can get this shit over with.

    Sure, Pop.

    I dropped what I was doing, and we went over to the Lassing field. I chose to say nothing so my pop wouldn’t get more upset.

    When we got there, William kept telling us how grateful he was that we came over again to work in his field. I thought that they were kind and true words. But with my pop, the carrying on about it only hurt. The Lassing children were nowhere to be seen. My pop didn’t ask where they were and why they weren’t even around, so neither did I.

    William told us what needed to be done, and we were doing it. I could tell my pop didn’t like to be bossed around, especially when there was incompetence. William had us doing completely separate tasks. I was the only one picking. William had my pop move some tools and baskets around the shed to get it organized. William was running back and forth between the shed, the field, and his house, not really doing much of anything. We were slow to progress because I was the only one

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