A Noble Cause: An Honorable Man Will Uphold a Noble Cause

By Norma Jean Lutz

Question: What's a skateboarder's worst nightmare?

Answer: Having no concrete on which to skate!

Which is exactly what happens to 15-year-old Jaden Cavell.

 

First, Jaden's dad loses his job at the Detroit auto plant. Then they lose their house. Then they spend a night in a homeless shelter.

And when things can't get any worse, they wind up in a small house in Shappaway, Oklahoma, where Jaden's father accepts a job in a fertilizer plant—with the help of his obnoxious brother-in-law, Burley Jack. (Father of Jaden's obnoxious cousin, Claude Lee.)

 

Jaden tangles with his bully cousin and his cousin's two sidekicks, whom Jaden quickly dubs the Three Stooges.

It's 1976, the hottest, driest summer in 50 years. Jaden hates the place, hates the people, and hates his life. 

Then he meets a Choctaw Indian named Martin Greyfox, and his life will never be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Norma Jean Lutz
• Release date: Mar 6, 2024
• ISBN: 9781947397026

Book preview

Chapter 1

Jaden stared for a moment at the black, snaky spring that held the screen door tightly shut. With great precision, he pushed the door as wide as he could and stepped out. Then he let ‘er fly—satisfied with the powerful slam! Beautiful.

He was almost down the back-porch steps before he heard his mother yell, Jaden! Don’t slam that screen door. How many times do I have to tell you? Jaden?

Jaden smirked, gave a satisfied grunt, and kept on walking. She was right on cue. Like he was worried? What was she going to do? Ground him?

He walked across the yard which was made up of scanty patches of grass in a sea of reddish-brown dirt, to the barbed wire fence that separated their place from a vast stretch of pastureland. Careful to avoid the pointy barbs, he climbed up on the fence and rested against the splintery fence post. Shading his eyes, he stared out at all the nothingness. Never had he seen so much nothingness.

So, what would his mom ground him from since there was absolutely nothing to do here?

Oh yeah. Maybe she’d ground him from his skateboard. That had been her favorite one when they lived in Detroit. Sorry Mom, but that little form of punishment flat out doesn’t work here. The skateboard had been shoved to the back of the closet in the tiny room that was designated as his bedroom.

And anyway, what would he skateboard on? The nearest asphalt was about eight miles away. And the only concrete within a wide radius of his present location was the floor of the brick well house. Whatever the heck a well house was. Jaden had no idea. He’d heard Uncle Burley Jack say something to Dad that it had to do with the water system. It looked more like an outhouse. Or at least it looked like what Jaden imagined an outhouse might look like. He’d never seen one or used one.

Out past the nothingness, off in the distance, wooded hills rose up out of the flat prairie. Weird. Just weird. Flat nothingness with a few clusters of trees, a pond—oh and cows, can’t forget cows—and then the towering hills. Locals called them mountains, but Jaden and his family had vacationed in Colorado once. Now those were mountains.

The revving of Claude Lee’s three-wheeler, accompanied by the barking of his coonhound, Ragnor, snapped Jaden out of his thoughts. Of all the things he didn’t need right at that moment was his mouthy, know-it-all cousin hanging around. The dust cloud rising from the gravel road showed he was still a few minutes away.

How could he make himself scarce? Jaden glanced around. The well house? Naw. Too closed in. He’d get claustrophobic. Plus, Dad said there were wasp nests in there.

The old barn. That’d have to do. He jumped down from the fence and sprinted to where the weather-beaten structure stood, pulled open the creaking side door and stepped in.

In the week since they’d arrived at the Shappaway Sheraton, as Dad had dubbed this property, Jaden swore to himself that he’d never go inside the creepy place, but desperate situations called for desperate measures. The sound of the three-wheeler grew ever louder.

Beams of sunlight squeezed in through the gaping boards, throwing narrow spotlights on the dancing dust motes. Jaden shivered. It was creepy all right.

That’s not a barn, his mom had corrected them the night they arrived. It’s an old machine shed. Like it mattered. But Beverly Walsh-Cavell should know. After all, she grew up on the Walsh place—in this God-forsaken country—just down the road a few miles. The gravel road, that is.

Now Jaden heard the three-wheeler shut down and heard Claude Lee yelling. Hey Aunt Beverly! You in there?

So where else would she be, you moron? We only have one vehicle and Dad drives it to work.

Jaden stepped through the soft dirt over to where he could peer through a gap in the boards and watch the goings on. Dust tickled his nose forcing him to rub it with the palm of his hand.

He could see his mom walking down the driveway to where Claude Lee—all one-hundred-eighty pounds of him—sat astride the bright yellow three-wheeler. Of course, Claude Lee says it not a three-wheeler at all. It’s an ATC, he says. ATC meaning all-terrain cycle. Jaden became privy to that incredibly important piece of information the day after they arrived.

Whoa! Big deal. Sorry Mr. Claude Lee, that no one knows what to call your oversized, motorized tricycle! What a crime. So, have us all arrested.

And that was followed with all the accompanying mindless information from the obnoxious cousin: Yeah, this here’s a Honda 90 K3. A ’76—this year’s model. Daddy drove me over to Fort Smith and we bought it right off the lot. Daddy’s making a lot of extra bonus money at the plant, you know.

Sure thing cuz. Thanks for reminding me that your old man is making bonus money. Just what I wanted to know.

Hey Aunt Beverly, Claude Lee was saying. Where’s Jaden? I wanna know if he wants to go riding with Luther and me.

His mom’s voice came floating to Jaden on the still air. Not now, Claude Lee. It’s almost suppertime. Russ will be home from work in just a little while.

Five-year-old Ginny chose that moment to fly out the front door and run to her mama’s side. Beverly reached out and pulled her close.

Uncle Russ’ll be a smidge late tonight, Aunt Beverly, Claude Lee said in his always-knows-everything Okie twang. Daddy and them’s loading a lot of barrels this evening. Uncle Russ’ll probably be pulled in to help load.

As Claude Lee talked, Jaden could see his cousin glancing around the place as though he expected to see Jaden jump out from behind a bush. If there had been a bush, that is.

Ragnor sat on his haunches, patiently waiting with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. The hound sported a white body with black speckles, a black splotch on his side, a brown face and dark brown ears. Jaden couldn’t imagine there being an uglier dog anywhere. Would Ragnor come and sniff him out? It wasn’t as if he was a treed coon. Hopefully, he was safe. 

His mother pulled the dish towel from off her shoulder and twisted it in her hands. Anyway, Russ says those things are too dangerous. She waved the towel toward Claude Lee and his beloved ATC. He really doesn’t want Jaden riding it.

Aw it’s okay, Aunt Beverly. I’m a really safe driver.

Yeah sure. Jaden had already gotten a glimpse of his cousin’s safe ATC driving. Scary. Very scary.

All the same, I’d rather abide by his father’s wishes. But thanks for coming by. His mom reached down to take Ginny’s hand and turned to go.

You’re coming over to the house to play dominos this evening ain’t you? Claude Lee called after her.

Probably not, came the answer.

Mama’s gonna be real disappointed.

Jaden knew that under her breath his mother was saying, She’ll get over it. But she turned back around and said, Tell them thanks anyway.

Peering between the slats of the shed, Jaden felt his head go light for a moment as he watched this surreal scene. His mind refused to accept this picture— that that was his mother, his beautiful, fun-loving, witty mother standing there in that gravel drive, in front of an old house that hadn’t been lived in for at least five years. She didn’t belong here. Little Ginny with her bouncy mop of brown curls—who still cried every night and begged to go home—didn’t belong here. Russell Cavell, the hero of Chrysler’s Jefferson Avenue Assembly Plant didn’t belong here. And more than any of the others, up-and-coming skateboard champion, Jaden Cavell, definitely did not belong here.

The air was again filled with the ear-splitting revving of the three-wheeler and Ragnor’s barking. Jaden sank to the dirt floor and sat there, thinking he was going to be sick. He stayed still for a few minutes till the woozy sensation passed, then brushed dust off his jeans and went back in the house.

Where were you hiding? his mother said from the kitchen.

I wasn’t hiding, Jaden shot back. Just wanted to look inside that old machine shed.

Okay. Whatever you say.

Supper was smelling good. Jaden was amazed this his mother could cook almost as good in this excuse-for-a-kitchen as she had in her up-to-date, ultra-modern kitchen in their house back in Detroit.

Beverly called this one a one-person kitchen, so Jaden stopped at the doorway, leaning against it, not wanting to get in her way. She was probably going to be upset that she had everything almost ready and just now learned that Russ was going to be late.

What wonderful things did you discover in the machine shed? She turned to look at him.

He shrugged. Lot of dirt and dust.

So. How long are you going to hide from your cousin?

"So. How long are you going to duck out of playing dominos with the family?"

His mother turned to him and smiled, and for a split-second Jaden caught a glimpse of the mother he remembered from before. Before their lives began to crumble like a stale cookie. That fun-loving Beverly who never took any guff off of anyone. Touché, she said softly.

Jaden knew it was too good a moment to pass up. It might not come again for who knew how long. He took a breath. Hey, about school, he said, then stopped. Bad wording already. Dumb. Dumb. But he plunged on. Only five weeks left before they’re out for the summer. There’s no sense in going for such a short time. I can make it all up next year. I’m probably ahead of everybody anyway. You know what you’ve always told me. About how backward these schools are out here in the boonies.

We’re enrolling you Monday. You’re going to school.

Jaden felt his face getting hot. He so wanted to discuss this logically, but he could tell that what he wanted didn’t matter. I don’t want to ride that stupid bus and I don’t want to go to that hick school.

With her back to him, his mother held a spatula up in the air wielding it like a weapon. No discussion. The case is closed. Now go wash the machine-shed dirt off your hands and let’s eat.

Jaden wanted to ram his fist through the wall. If it bloodied his fist it would feel so good! Instead he said, I hate this place! and stomped down the short hallway to the miniature bathroom.

Yeah, well, just remember, she called after him, I hated it long before you came along!

Chapter 2

The first week the Cavell family arrived in Shappaway, Oklahoma, Beverly insisted they all go to church, much against the protests of both Jaden and his father. The experience proved to be painful. Jaden knew immediately they would not be going back. The questions from all the town folk put his mother through a meat grinder, almost as bad as the one they’d just come through in Detroit.

Hi there, Beverly. Y’all come down from Yankee country for a little visit? How long y’all staying?

I declare. That really you, Beverly? You’re lookin’ a little peak-ed. Everything all right?

I hear y’all are staying at the Tolleson place. Never knew that place was still in livable condition. Ain’t nobody lived in it for years.

This that man you run off with, Beverly June? Goodness to mercy look at them kids of yours. Purty. (Patting Ginny on the head and making her scowl.) So, what brung y’all back to Shappaway?

And on and on. Jaden wanted to scream at them to shut up and leave them alone. But Memaw Walsh just pooh-poohed all the fuss. Now Beverly June, you know all them folks care about you. That’s just their way of showing it.

They’d all gathered at Memaw’s house for dinner after church that first Sunday—the whole Walsh clan. They sat around Memaw’s old wooden dining room table, the one in which you could put in and take out about four leaves to make it bigger or smaller. Jaden thought it looked sadly out of place in Memaw’s new double-wide trailer. Only no one was supposed to call it a trailer. It was a mobile home. Right. And Claude Lee’s three-wheeler wasn’t a three-wheeler.

Talk swirled around the table about the qualities of the fine, upstanding folk of Shappaway with Uncle Burley and Aunt Devonna putting in their two cents’ worth. Jaden glanced at his father who sat in stony silence. Comments passed around the table at the same clip as the platter of fried chicken, bowls of mashed ‘taters, pan gravy, fried okra, green beans, and yeast rolls.

In the corner of Memaw’s living room on a special table sat the Cobra CB radio. It crackled and snapped with its endless stream of static and a once-in-a-while fragment of conversation from random truckers barreling down the highway a few miles north. Jaden knew his mother despised the noisy thing. Total nonsense, she called it.

But Memaw would always say, In case of emergency, Beverly June, that radio might very well save our lives someday. To which Jaden’s mother would roll her eyes and press her lips together tight.

The few times they’d driven down for a visit (obligatory visits, Dad called them), Russ was never silent. He threw out well-aimed barbs and snide remarks, and on the long drive from Oklahoma back to Detroit, he and Beverly would be laughing the whole way at the expense of Beverly’s strange kinfolk. But it wasn’t funny now. Now there was no quick escape.

Jaden looked over at Ginny who sat wide-eyed picking at her food. She may have been oblivious to all the friction in the air, but she knew things weren’t right. She’d eaten so little since they arrived that Jaden was beginning to worry about her. She was already tiny. She had no pounds to spare.  

Inevitably, Memaw placed Jaden next to Claude Lee at the table, no doubt thinking her two young grandsons would want to be close enough to be able to talk. Mistakenly thinking, of course. Also mistakenly thinking they might have one smidgeon of a fraction of an iota of something in common. Which they absolutely did not.

In fact, Claude Lee enjoyed elbowing Jaden sharply in the ribs when no one was looking. Or maybe a pinch on the side of Jaden’s leg if he could conveniently fit one in. Or crunching down on Jaden’s foot with his size thirteens. Or whatever else might entertain the big lunkhead.

Meanwhile, Jaden’s mother was still hopelessly trying to defend her position about the interrogation she’d received at church that morning. I’m not saying they’re trying to be unkind, she protested. But I shouldn’t have to be put on the spot like that. Especially in front of the whole town.

Now sis, Uncle Burly said, it t’weren’t the whole town. Just a handful of them church folk.

Jaden waited for the fireworks. Waited for Beverly Cavell’s withering stare and snappy comeback to put her brother in his place. It didn’t happen. Instead his mother just sort of sighed. I don’t owe anyone any explanation.

Well now, a-course you don’t, Beverly June. It was Aunt Devonna’s turn. Why, anybody on God’s green earth can be down on their luck now and again, and that’s the Gospel truth for sure. It’s not nobody’s business. You’re absolutely right about that. You can’t help that all that stuff in Detroit didn’t turn out like y’all thought it would.

All that stuff? All what stuff? Jaden wanted to scream at her. His father had worked at Chrysler's Jefferson Avenue plant for almost fifteen years. He’d not only risen to foreman and floor lead, but served in an influential union position contending nose-to-nose with management to bring about needed changes on the assembly lines. Which is why he was among the first to be laid off, or so his mother kept saying. And this ditzy redneck dame calls it stuff?

His dad was about ready to blow but he was holding it. Jaden saw the jaw muscles tighten just slightly, and the knuckles grow white as he gripped his fork a little tighter. Go get ‘em Dad. Rip ‘em up, Jaden cheered silently. But he knew at this point his dad could make no waves. He was at the mercy of his in-laws and it was eating him alive.

Chapter 3

His mother borrowed Aunt Devonna’s black Ford pickup to drive him into town on Friday to enroll. The pickup had a stick shift and smelled like someone’s closed-up cellar. Stale.  

Since they were stranded, Aunt Devonna had to come and get them and then take them to Memaw’s. The plan was for Ginny to stay with Memaw, for which Jaden was extremely thankful. What he didn’t need was another distraction.

After Ginny had sprinted to the front porch to hug her Memaw, Devonna spent almost ten minutes teaching her sister-in-law exactly how to tune in the CB radio to get the best transmission.

They’s a couple of speed traps set up on the way into town, she explained carefully. You always want to know where them Smokies is sitting, Beverly June. No sense in getting a ticket if you can help it. Keep this on so’s you can listen to them truckers and find out. ‘Cuz I know y’all cain’t afford no speeding ticket.

Thank you, Devonna. Jaden’s mother’s voice was quiet and steady as though she were talking to Ginny. The tone was lost on Aunt Devonna. We really need to get going. Beverly stepped closer to where the pickup door was open and touched Devonna’s shoulder to gently move her out of the way.

Oh sure. Yeah. Well, y’all take care now. And remember that clutch is getting a might stiff.

Beverly nodded, hopped up into the truck, slammed the door and headed down the long driveway, switching off the CB radio as she went.

Smokies? Jaden asked, feeling around for the seatbelt and realizing there was none.

Highway patrol.

And the connection is?

Highway patrolmen’s hats look like the one worn by Smokey Bear. Hence the CB moniker.

Jaden rolled his eyes.

It was all his mother could do with her short frame to jam that old clutch to the floor and run through the gears. She had told him at one point that when