Somewhere outside of Tulsa, 2017…

"You know what you're asking, Boy?"

"Sure, Gramps, I just need you to help me out with this journalism project. You tell me your story, and I buy you a couple burgers and clean up around this place for you."

"It takes a school project for you to come around and pay attention to me? 'Sides, the house is clean enough."

"Aw, come on Grandpa. There's stacks of newspapers in the basement from the '80s! Pretty sure there's some food in the back of that fridge that's older than I am too."

"Hey, Wiseass, if you play your cards right, I'll leave those papers to you when I kick it and you can sell 'em off to a museum or a collector or something one day. Could make you a bundle."

"You gonna tell me your story or not?"

"When is this project of yours due?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"Christ, Danny. You are one of mine, aren't you?"

"That's what they tell me, Sir."

"Since when the hell do you 'Sir' me? Sit your smart ass down and you'll get your story. How old are you now, anyway?"

"Seventeen."

"That's right. You were almost one of them Y2K babies. Your momma was convinced you were going to usher in the Apocalypse. You made her miserable while she was carrying you. Well, I guess you're old enough to hear this. Get comfortable, 'cause it ain't a short story. I've had seventy years to build it. If I'm taking the time to tell it, you're getting the whole damn thing. You ready?"

"Hold on a minute. You got a pencil and paper?"

"You come here for an interview and you don't have a pencil? What about that computer of yours? I thought you and that thing were attached at the fingertips like some damn cyborg or something."

"It's dead. Forgot to charge it and left the charger at school. You don't have a charger, do you?"

"Do I look like I have one of those? How'd you even remember your pants this morning? Try the last drawer in the kitchen, there might be a pencil in there. Might be some paper or a notebook or something in the back bedroom. Be quick about it, 'cause you don't want to miss the prologue."

It was late at night on June 5, 1947. Your great-grandma had been laboring for over twenty hours to bring me into this here world. I made my grand appearance screaming like a wildcat. Figure I'll probably leave the same way eventually. Now, that Doc took one look at my ugly mug and loud mouth and started laughing. Been keeping people in stitches ever since...


Chapter 1 - Learn Your History, Boy

First thing you gotta know about your family, Danny, is its history. Might seem boring, but it helps you make sense of the rest of it. With that in mind, we're going back a bit before I was even born. Now, your great-grandaddy Ted named me after his daddy. I never met the man, but Momma said he was a right mean sonofabitch. You know, if you're turning this into school, you'll probably need to do some creative editing. Don't think they'll appreciate the amount of cussin' that's going to appear in the telling of this story. And I don't want your Momma in my door and up my backside because you landed yourself in detention again. Well anyway, back to your Great-Grandpa Mauer… You know that's my real name, right? Mathews is just an adopted name from my stepdaddy, but we'll get to that later. Mauer… ain't that a pretentious name? It even sounds rich. I guess it fits though. My daddy came from money, sure enough, but he took one look at Momma waiting tables at the country club the summer she turned sixteen, and well, that was that.

Momma came from a poor mining family back east. They were hit hard by a couple wars and The Depression. I guess that's what gave her all her grit. It's a shame you never met your great- grandma; she was one hell of a woman. Anyway, Ted Mauer saw her waiting tables and whisked her off her feet in a summer of torrid romance. He was 21, rich, dashing, and she thought he'd carry her off into the sunset and into his world of country clubs, champagne, and fancy dresses. At that point, I think he really would have too, and Momma would have taken to it like a duck to water. Your great-grandma may have been dirt poor, but she was a real classy lady. Too bad she never got the chance to show it.

Now's the part where you meet that sonofabitch great-great-grandfather of yours, Keith Mauer. He was a rich factory owner from Kentucky. Produced a lot of army goods I think, so all them world wars were good to the Mauers. Well, Ted brought Momma home and introduced her to dear old Grandpappy. She'd dressed up in her Sunday best and even spared a bit of her hard earned money for a hair salon visit. Wanted to make a good impression. Keith took one look at her and told Ted to send the 'coal-dusted, food-slinging hussy' on her way. Only he didn't say hussy; he used another word that I don't even like sayin'. Momma never could forget that. When she told me the story, she made sure and told me his exact words. She said if I ever called a woman that or treated her even a fraction as poorly, she'd flay my poor self to an inch from death, let me heal, and do it all over again. Bastard even offered to pay the cab fare for her. Can you imagine? Now you see why I don't like goin' by Keith.

Well, Ted still had a spine at that time, so he told his daddy to go straight to Hell and walked out with Momma. His parents tried to bribe him to come back a few times, but he wasn't such a bad guy yet, and Momma had him smitten. Once they realized he wasn't coming back, they cut him off completely, and he never saw another cent from them. He stuck it out, and a few weeks later they were at the church altar in front of the preacher sayin' 'I do'. Then I came along 7 months later. They swore up and down that I was a honeymoon baby and I just came early, but I'll leave you to put together those pieces.

Now Momma and Ted were poorer than the poorest church mice. You see, growing up rich and all, Ted didn't have a lot of skills. He and Momma went around working odd jobs scrounging up what they could. About a year in, they moved out here chasing a job Ted thought he had. Momma kept waiting tables and taking in laundry on the side. To hear her tell it, I spent most of my infancy in a laundry basket while she worked. I guess there's worse places to keep a kid. I'm alive, ain't I?

They were worked to the bone, but they were happy. To hear them talk, they were living the white picket fence American Dream then. But Ted never could make enough money to keep Momma as comfortable as he'd have liked to, and I think he felt guilty. Well, a few year later, South Korea called up Harry Truman and asked for some help to defend against all of the North Korean commies. In 1952, Ted realized he'd make better money in the Army than the odd jobs he was able to pick up here, so he signed up to ship out. Didn't even talk with Momma about it first, he just did it. I would've been about five then.

I didn't really know what was goin' on at the time. I do remember a lot of yelling going on at night when they thought I was asleep. Might have even heard a few dishes being broken. Looking back, I'd guess Momma was pretty pissed at him for not even running an idea like that by her. Come next morning though, she was always back with a smile on her face acting pleasant as pie. I think that's all it was though, an act for my sake. A few weeks later, we were all at the bus station sending Ted off to Basic. He knelt down to me, hugged me, and told me about all the adventures he was going to have. Being the adventurous tyke I was, I asked if I could go with him. I thought it'd be a lot like Cowboys and Indians, and some real good fun. I was only five; I had no idea what war was or that Korea was any different from Tripp Street two blocks over from our house. He laughed and told me I'd be bored. Told me that a real man belonged at home taking care of his woman, and that was my job now. Momma gave a snort at that. At the time, I thought she'd choked on her chewing gum. Now I realize that she was laughing indignantly at the truth of what Ted had just said. Told you she was pissed at him. She did send him off with a real steamy kiss though. In case you didn't know this, Boy, the people you love the most can make you angrier and crazier than anyone else could ever dream of. It was definitely that way with Momma and Ted.