Tales of A Grandmother

by mcj

NOT MOVIE-VERSE It's Grandma's birthday and tonight she's leaving no story untold. STORY COMPLETE

12. CHAPTER 7 FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONT...

Author's Note - Now we turn to John Glenn Tracy. An enigma. Dreamy and starlike. The Tracy son least featured in the show! This is my interpretation of how he feels about himself, his relationship with his Father, the loss of his mother and life with his feisty Grandmother. I hope you enjoy it!!!! Thanks a million Lady Viva for your input and encouragement . You're a true gem my friend. mcj

CHAPTER SEVEN - FIVE GRANDSON'S IN DAMAGE CONTROL

PART THREE - DEFENCE FROM THE STARMAN

"For God's sake Gordon take the shot and get the hell over here so I can stand with my back to Grandma."

That's what I'm thinking at the moment and getting pretty damn close to saying to that red-haired, troublemaking brother of mine if he procrastinates one more minute over whether to sink the red ball in the hip pocket or the yellow ball in the side pocket.

He's grinning at me as he slowly contemplates his next move. He's deliberately delaying things so I'm forced to look at Grandma face to face trying to feign my innocence. He knows I'm nervous about Grandma's reaction to finding out about the party and he's making the absolute most of my discomfort. God I detest him sometimes for his warped sense of humour. Family clown!

For goodness sake, this is getting ridiculous and so blasted typical of Gordon. Sometimes I wish Mom and Dad had left him permanently at the maternity hospital after he was born instead of only temporarily. I guess I shouldn't say that because he was fighting for his life but his sense of what's funny these days drives me absolutely crazy.

Well he's not fighting for his life now. At the moment the only thing my kid brother is fighting for is to survive in a pool game he can't possibly win no matter what ball he sinks. That, and keeping in a safe position away from Grandma.

"Gordon move it!" I hear myself snap. "Take the damned shot. You can't win any way."

He is smiling at me absolutely loving the fact that he's making me squirm. However despite the brilliance of his smile and our current battle of wills, my eyes look to where his eyes look.

Both of us look at Josephine Tracy; our Grandma.

"I know I'm next Gordon OK?" I mutter under my breath. "When there's trouble coming from oldest to youngest I know my place in this family very well. I'm in the middle and Grandma has now worked her way down the line to reach me."

"Got a problem at the moment hey Johnny boy?" he's asking me in his roguish voice.

He obviously didn't hear me talking to myself. If he did he would know I know I am about to be balled out by Grandma for not telling her about the surprise party.

"Yeah I do have a problem." I reply in an annoyed voice. "And you're it."

"You're too sarcastic John." I tell myself after hearing the words leave my mouth.

It's a trait I've developed from being a middle child.

"Nah." he grins. "You've got much bigger problems than me by the look of things. Get a load of Grandma's face will ya!"

I shudder and choose not to look as he continues. "Yep she's blasted Dad, torn strips off Scott, said her piece to Virgil and ....uh oh ...."

"Uh oh? What's she doing now Gordon?" I panic in silence.

One nervous glance in Grandma's direction and that spirited face of hers gives me the look I learnt to recognise so well as a child.

"John Glenn Tracy; you're next."

Oh no.

Grandma, I sort of told you about the party last night when we were out looking at the stars together but I was under Dad's strict instructions not to say anything to you. Dad doesn't confide in me much, not like he confides in Scott, so when he finally does tell me something, I feel obliged to do the right thing by him. Is that a plausible excuse? I hope so. That's the only one I can think of at the moment.

Besides Grandma, I like parties and you have to admit they're few and far between for me these days. I don't get to socialise much owing to those long, lonely weeks I spend alone up in Thunderbird Five. I've kind of been looking forward to being with you, Dad and the guys and having a few laughs while we celebrate you making it to seventy-five.

"Yeah that at least sounds reasonable" I think to myself. "I'll use that angle if the first excuse fails.

It just so happens, like usual, that this party happened to fall during Alan's rotation in Thunderbird Five not mine, and Dad was adamant he had to be here.

"Grandma's favourite little grandson can't possibly miss anything can he now!"

There I go again. "You're too sarcastic Johnny." I tell myself again.



Who'd be a middle son? Middle sons aren't anyone's favourite and in this family, don't count for anything. Don't get me going on that subject at the moment. It's a sore point with me.

Even though I'm supposed to be enjoying some well deserved rest and recreation after a month alone in space, I was still expected to "do my duty" this afternoon and go back up to Thunderbird Five and bring the brat home for the party. It's enough I had to undertake what I felt was a totally unnecessary flight but then Dad decided to come along for the ride as well… and took the controls! He made me sit next to him the whole way pointing out how he used to pilot rocket ships back in the stone ages and while he was in the process he started telling me what to do and how to do it. Yeah Dad! Like I know nothing about rocket ships and flying and need you to tell me! I'm an Astronaut remember?

Dad was bad enough but then Alan tried to do the same thing to me when I finally got the controls back for the trip home. "Go faster John. Slow down John. Not that way John." That kid thinks he knows everything. I know I have to put up with it from Dad but there was no way I was taking it from him. I soon put him in his place.

He stormed off then and started complaining to Dad about being bored in the satellite. The two of them argued about that the whole way home. I was ready for a straight-jacket by the time I landed again. And the worst thing is I've got to turn around again tomorrow night and put myself out to take him all the way back up there again. He needn't think I'll be tolerating his arguing or whinging then.

Frankly I still don't know why he couldn't just miss the party in the first place. I have to miss most family things because of International Rescue. I know for a fact if Grandma's party would have fallen during my rotation, Dad would have said in his deep and inflexible voice, "Too bad you have to miss things John."

Father would never have considered sending Alan up to get me. Even if he did Alan wouldn't have got here anyway. He would have found some lame excuse as to why he couldn't go. He has an excuse for everything and he always gets away with it.



I guess missing out is my lot in life these days and it truly wouldn't irk me quite so much if Alan was treated the same way. It figures the little weasel got out of another two days of duty again, this time under the pretence of being home for Grandma. He won't add those two days to his stay up there either. He'll be contacting Dad and demanding to leave the satellite right on the first of the month. He can't possibly be away from his "good friend" Tin-Tin Kyrano one second longer than necessary can he now?

"You're way too sarcastic Johnny." I say to myself for the third time.

Somehow he always gets to work fewer days up there than I do. Well if Dad's allowed him home to be with Grandma he'd better drag his damned ass in here soon and take the time to be with her or else I'm going looking for him. He won't be hard to find either. His "friend's" bedroom is right next to mine.

I hate favouritism. Like I said before, don't get me going on the subject.

Well yeah get me going then. Favouritism in this family is going on all around me.

Big brother Scott is Dad's favourite. Ask any of my other brothers. I love Scott a lot but Dad's super-inflated pride in him and his achievements is sickening. I've got every bit of Scott's military background in me; maybe not as many years of it or as many commendations, but NASA trained me nearly the same way. Dad conveniently forgets that.

Virgil is looked after by Grandma even though she's subtle about it. Look at the two of them over there having a deep and meaningful about ballads and art or some other stupid crock I don't care for. Virgil was always the one who got the extra cookie from Grandma when we were little. Grandma used to say he needed it more than the rest of us. Looking at Virg at the moment he could do with a few less cookies if you know what I mean. He's put on a bit of weight recently. Too many pieces of Grandma's Apple Pie no doubt. Oh yeah there's no doubt Grandma looks after him!

Gordon, pain that he is has got Dad twisted around his little finger. Dad's got a secret fondness for him and I've been witnessing that since I was two years old when he hurriedly came into the world, took over Dad's heart and moved in on my special space with Mom. Dad treats Gordon in a different way to the rest of us. It's like he's special or something. I suppose it goes back to Dad nearly losing him twice. Let me tell you if he doesn't hurry up and make his shot soon, Dad's at big risk of losing him a third time!

Alan; well as I said before he's Grandma's little darling and can do no wrong in her eyes. Now if anything's sickening that is. I'm sure what he's doing with Tin-Tin Kyrano at the moment has to be classed as wrong in someone's eyes; definitely Dad's anyway and I'm sure Kyrano wouldn't be approving of it either. But trust me, more than likely Grandma would find a justification for what was going on. In case you haven't guessed it yet, I'm not particularly fond of my youngest brother. I haven't been from the day he was born.

Me? I'm nobody's favourite. I'm the Tracy son in the middle. I'm not a leader like Scott who takes after Dad, I'm not artistic like Virgil, thank God I might say, I'm not a joke-about like Gordon who is going to get it soon if he doesn't take the blasted shot...just go for the red ball and be done with it you idiot...and I'm definitely not a wild, impetuous brat like Alan.

Sometimes I don't know who I am or where I fit into this family of brilliance and talent. Being in the middle is the pits. Half the time no-one even notices me but one thing's for sure; Grandma is noticing me now. It's amazing how the middle son is overlooked until there's trouble to be had. It's funny how everyone's equal then.

"Gordon!" I explode with frustration. "Hurry up will ya'!"

"OK, OK. Calm down Conan!" he says knowing by my tone I've had enough of his goofing around.

Finally! Thank you Gordon. As usual you made the wrong decision and tried to sink the yellow ball. Not only that you missed the pocket again too.

"You're hopeless kid!" I exclaim as the ball goes nowhere. "Better stick to the swimming pool. That's the only type of pool you're ever going to win at."

Gordon's not amused at my comment but do I care? Not in the slightest! At least I can move to the other side of the table now and keep my back to Grandma. That move wasn't necessarily a good one for me either. I'm overlooking the water and can't help but gaze through the open doors to the balcony and up into the night sky. My head moves as if it cannot be controlled. My eyes scan the heavens. Its eight thirty in the evening and in the middle of June so she should be...right... over... there.

Yes, there she is, bright and vibrant as always, silently watching over the party.

As I smile to myself I remember sadly how I used to be a favourite son once.

I was her favourite or at least I felt like I was.

But she's gone now and has been for a long time. My smile fades.

"Hi Mom," I acknowledge silently as I continue to look at the evening star. "How are you doin' tonight?"

The star appears brighter after I think that. I suddenly feel happier but my smile does not return. The star sparkles again. She's trying to cheer me up.

"I know you can sense what I'm thinking Mom. You know how much I want you to come back to me."

My one-sided silent conversation with my mother continues as I talk to her about the party.

"I guess you know Grandma's seventy-five today and we're having a party for her. You can see straight into the lounge from where you rose in the sky tonight can't you? I guess that's why you rose in the wrong spot tonight. You know you should be ten degrees further to the west according to my calculations. Its OK Mom, I know you've never done that before and won't be making a habit of it. I guess you needed to see Dad huh? Dad's over there talking to Scott if you're looking for him."

I continue to gaze silently towards the evening star and those words of Grandma's offered in comfort to me when I was three and half years old echo in my mind.

"Mom is the brightest star in the sky, and while she's there, she will never, ever die."

I think I must have swallowed that savoury thing of Kyrano's without chewing it properly. It's given me a lump in my throat like the one I used to have every single day of my life for years after she died. I haven't felt that terrible lump for a while now. Funny what brings it back. Who'd have thought a happy occasion like Grandma's birthday would.

"You don't have to try to sparkle for me Mom." I assure her silently. "I'm not upset anymore; really I'm not. It has to be the savouries."

I shake my head and accept I'm only kidding myself. After twenty-one years I still miss mother dreadfully.

Now it's Gordon's turn to complain about me.

"Come on will ya Johnny." he's exclaiming. "Quit looking up at the sky for Pete's sake. Don't you see enough of the stars already? Make the shot"

The lump's gone now, courtesy of my pain of a brother interrupting my thoughts. OK then. You're asking for it Gordo. Wordlessly I line up the red ball and easily sink it in the hip pocket. There's only the yellow to go now.

"Say goodnight Josephine." I say as I sink the last ball. "Big brother Johnny is too good for you kid!"

"You're the one who should be saying goodnight Johnny boy." he grins at me. "Here comes Josephine herself and she's lookin' right at you!

I swallow and redden.

Well I guess it's time, as Virgil so eloquently puts it, "to face the music". The verbal caning I'm about to receive will last a while if my previous reality checks from her are anything to go by. I'd better brace myself for it. Quick Kyrano bring that martini over here now.

Kyrano somehow senses my silent request for intestinal fortitude and walks over with the tray to offer me a drink.

Now with a drink in hand and before Grandma starts on me, I'd like to relay how it felt to be the middle son growing up in the Tracy household. I'll tell you how a middle son felt losing his beloved mother, developed a passion for the stars, grew into a man and finally ended up working for International Rescue and the Father who at one stage didn't want to acknowledge his existence.

That middle son is me. John Glenn Tracy; the third Tracy son; the grandson Grandma fondly refers to as her "Star Man".

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A STAR IN THE MAKING

Much to my extreme embarrassment Grandma informed me recently she was in the house the night my Father and mother…well…made me. I'm still getting my head around that one and keep trying not to think about it.

Grandma said she wished she was as sure of the lottery numbers as she was sure there was going to be a Tracy baby conceived the night Dad returned from the moon. How would she have known that? It's not as if it's something Mom would have told her and frankly I'm quite surprised Dad would have let his guard down to give Grandma the impression he and Mom intended to do something like that around her in the first place.

However her recollection of my conception was like one of her reality checks. You didn't want to hear it but you were going to hear it anyway so you may as well just accept the fact you have no choice in the matter and listen with resignation.

Grandma, I can listen to the part where you said Mom looked like she had made some sort of important decision two weeks before Dad came home from the moon. I certainly have no problems listening to the part where you said Dad kissed her for nearly five minutes in front of the President when he got back. My mother was simply the most beautiful woman who ever lived on this earth so I can understand him doing that. I can listen to you telling me how the two of them sat very close to each other all night talking to you about nothing and looking like they wanted to be alone. They always sat close together and they were always looking at each other and wanting to be alone. It was just the way it was with them. I can even listen to you say Dad asked Mom to go to bed with him right in front of you. He was probably tired Grandma. It's a long way to the moon and back you know.

However that's when I draw the line on listening to your tale of my conception Grandma.

The very thought of my Father and Mother doing "that" fairly makes my stomach turn. I simply can't imagine Dad ever having sex at all and it's a worse picture when I know you were next door in the spare room listening while he was having it.

Grandma, it's no wonder I feel like you've known me longer than my whole life.

You literally did know me when I was simply "a twinkle in my Father's eye."

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A STAR IS BORN

From what I've been told by Grandma, I should have been born a girl. Mom had birthed two boys before me and Dad had promised to give her a girl the third time around. I've often wondered how a man fulfilled a promise like that. I bet Dad wished he knew too because I was definitely born with the wrong type of equipment to be considered a girl and Grandma said Mom wasn't too pleased about it either.

Apparently I was to be her last baby and she was extremely confident she was carrying a daughter.

Grandma said she warned Mom not to get carried away and forget the Tracy history of producing little boys. She suggested Mom keep Virgil's blue baby clothes on the "off-chance" she might be mistaken. Wrong thing to say to my Mom! Mom was a pretty stubborn lady if you didn't already hear that from my brothers. I was a girl because she said I was and that was that. The blue items were disposed of in her seventh month and the pink items were purchased. Dad started shaking in his shoes when he was asked to paint the nursery pink and white. He suggested yellow would be a better colour. Mom said pink and white.

Well Mom you were wrong about everything. I wasn't the girl you wanted and I don't know what else went wrong for you and Dad but I wasn't your last baby either.

Grandma said Mom was really disappointed which isn't something I really wanted to hear when it's me she was talking about. She said Dad was actually starting to worry Mom didn't want to take me home from the hospital with her at one stage. How could she even think that? I'm the best looking out of all my brothers. I'm not a replica of Dad; yeah Scott I mean you; neither am I a clone of Mom; that's you Virgil. I'm a mixture of them both and it seems Mom found that more than a little hard to deal with at the time. I suppose when your husband has dark hair and you have reddish brown hair and your child comes out with blonde hair and looking like he belongs to no-one it can all be a little disconcerting.

However my Dad wove his special magic when it came to dealing with Mom's disappointment that day. Grandma said Dad simply had a way with Mom and it was just as well he did too otherwise I'd still probably be at the maternity hospital. Grandma said he kissed her and pointed out what a beautiful baby I was, which was the truth of course and gave her his brilliant Tracy smile which won her heart every time. Within the hour Mom had forgiven Dad for giving her a third boy and she was calling me her little "Starman."

However I remained in grave danger of being brought home from the hospital in a pink diaper and matching shirt because Mom had refused to listen to Grandma two month's earlier. Fortunately for me my Father loved me enough to go straight from the hospital to the department store with Grandma and his credit card.

At three days old I came home to Paramount Road Boston to meet my two big brothers Scott aged five and Virgil aged two. My mother placed me in my cot in the hurriedly "repainted" blue and white nursery and went to stand beside my Father. They both hugged each other as they looked at me noting with satisfaction how cute I looked in my blue diaper and matching blue shirt. The shirt had a big white star in the centre. It must have been an omen of the future.

Thanks Dad. I'll always be grateful to you and Grandma. You saved my masculinity with your quick thinking!

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THE BABY FROM OUTER SPACE

I was supposedly a dreadful baby. Do you blame a kid for being difficult? My Grandma was next door eavesdropping when I left my father's body; my mother wanted a girl not a boy and would have sent me back if she could; I didn't look like anyone called Tracy and to top it all off I was the little brother of a jealous five year old who didn't like the fact that he had to deal with yet another baby in the house and made his displeasure clearly known.

What would you do if you were me? Plant a fake smile on your face and tap dance around the room?

Sorry that's the sarcasm coming back again. I can't help it. It helps me deal with things around here.

Grandma uses many words to describe how I was in my first months of life and none of them are complementary. Words such as difficult, colicky and clingy spring to my mind. You name it; I was it according to Grandma. Personally I think my temperament was designed to be an eye opener for Mom and Dad after raising the two babies I sarcastically refer to as Mr. Perfect and Mr. Placid. Maybe I was a warning to the both of them not to have any more babies. They should have paid attention shouldn't they? Look what they ended up with after me! Mr. Clown and Mr. Whinger.

I'm surprised to learn Grandma couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. She usually knows everything. Well she certainly didn't know the reason for my continuous crying and total insecurity whenever I was left alone. She couldn't work out how my two older brothers could both be born extroverts and I wasn't. What in the heck had happened to me? By and by she came up with her "theory". Nothing had happened to me. It had happened to Dad!

According to Grandma, when Dad left Earth's atmosphere on his way to the moon, his physical composition took a turn for the worst. A lack of gravity had resulted in a "lack of something" or at least that's what Grandma said.

Grandma seemed to think when Dad fathered me he was missing something important. Well that was obvious. Ask Mom where her baby daughter was! Anyway she truly believed Dad was the reason for my unsettled state. There could be no other explanation for why I cried wretchedly whenever my mother put me down to sleep or whenever someone else fed me other than my mother or when I lost sight of my mother as she tended to my brothers.

Grandma's pretty astute but not this time if you want my opinion. Surely it was as plain as the nose on her face why I was crying. There was a common denominator in all my fussing. I simply had a deep emotional attachment to my mother from the beginning. She was the centre of my world. What's wrong with that in a kid?

Dad still laughs about what he fondly calls "Grandma's theory." He told me once Grandma was determined to prove herself and demanded to know how the babies of the other Astronauts who went to the moon with him turned out.

"Your Grandma was one crazy lady back then John." he laughed. "She stood in the kitchen in Boston, large as life, telling me to my face there was something wrong with me. She even had your mother half-believing her at one stage."

Well Dad, come to think of it, maybe Grandma was right. Look at how your last two sons turned out. You have to admit something went seriously wrong somewhere with Gordon. He's never been normal and as for Alan; you don't Father a brat who carries on like he does if there isn't something wrong with you.

Still, even though I was difficult I was extremely amiable and content when I was around my mother. Dad was away a lot when I was very small and hence my close bond with her was really quite normal. Well I think it was. You've got to attach yourself to someone!

I don't remember anything of my very early childhood but Grandma knows everything courtesy of her monthly visits to Boston.

I enjoy listening to her speak about how much Mom loved me even now. Grandma said if there was ever a complete love of mother and child we were it. I smiled; she smiled. I cried; she came. I slept; she held me lovingly in her arms. I have some beautiful pictures painted in my head of how close I was to mom and unlike Virgil who can put those memories down on canvas; mine only remain indelibly etched in my mind. But those pictures are every bit as real to me as Virgil's. Maybe even more real.

Grandma contends the year I turned one was the happiest year of Mom and Dad's life. She said they had three beautiful sons, had made their first million dollars and were on top of the world.

Then things started to go wrong for them.

Mom fell pregnant again much to her dismay and Grandma immediately got back on the case with her "theory" about Dad. While "Doctor Josie" was wrestling with science, Mom was wrestling with me. I was not quite two at the time and from the sound of things must have made life pretty hard for her as her pregnancy progressed. I don't remember any of it but I guess life would be pretty hard if you had a husband who was never at home and you were struggling to raise a bossy seven year old, a strange four year old who stared at people everywhere he went, a two year old who cried all the time and a pregnancy.

To make matters worse for Mom I became a big brother earlier than expected to a tiny red-haired premature baby. Life was becoming messy as my doting mother became a dreadfully exhausted one, who, on top of dealing with everything else I've just told you, had to travel to the hospital on the other side of Boston every day for two months to express her milk for Gordon. Grandma tells me I was particularly bad then, fussing whenever she left the house, fussing whenever she returned. And as for Dad, she said...well Dad was getting mighty sick of it.

My own memories stretch back to when Dad couldn't take things with me any longer. That was after things hit rock bottom when Gordon was four months old and Mom found herself pregnant for a fifth time. Mom completely lost her way when that happened Grandma said and didn't want to elaborate any more.

Grandma wouldn't discuss the bits of information I picked up from Scott and Virgil's conversations over the years about Mom and Dad's argument, Mom threatening to leave Dad, Dad putting his business on hold so she didn't take us away from him and Mom's complete loss of spirit through an extremely difficult fifth pregnancy. She said I didn't need to know those things.

Both Scott and Virgil have told me about my very first caning from Dad at age three. It was just before Alan was born and Dad couldn't take seeing Mom with a baby on her lap, one in her belly and me crying and wanting to be held too. He refused to accept my total dependence on her any longer. He asked me to come to him and he would attend to what I wanted. I wouldn't come. I only wanted my mother to attend to my needs. Apparently Mom started to cry from exhaustion and Dad saw red. He hated seeing Mom upset and he knew how upset she was about the new baby and how bad things were turning out for them because of it

"Boy you got it that day." Scott recounted to me as the two of us returned from a late-night rescue together. "Dad totally cracked when you wouldn't come to him. You sure as heck weren't game to carry on ever again by the time he'd finished with you."

Virgil's account was even more graphic. I could actually recall it happening after listening to him.

Grandma simply said she didn't believe in caning little boys but in my case it was warranted. Thanks for nothing Grandma!

Then came the event that totally ruined my life.

On March 13 the same year, my mother started to have back pain when she was giving Virgil a piano lesson. Grandma said it was time. My Father left me with Grandma telling me he was taking my mother to hospital to have the new baby. The baby Mom had been crying about for months.

My mother never came back from the hospital.

A tiny, blonde haired baby came back instead; a baby who screamed and fussed and completely took over the house within two minutes of arriving.

My precious mother had died after giving birth to that baby.

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A STAR IN THE SKY

All I remember about Mom actually dying was being pushed into some dark room by Grandma and feeling afraid. Scott told me Mom spoke to me before she died and told me to be good for Dad. She said I had look out for her in the night sky where she would always be watching over me. Scott doesn't like talking about Mom but he did tell me the details of Mom's last conversation with me. I don't remember it at all. All I can vaguely remember is being taken outside in the corridor by Grandma along with the rest of my brothers and then Dad coming out a short time later sobbing she had died. I vividly remember Dad crying constantly for a whole week afterwards. He just sat there, unable to do anything, trying to comprehend he had been left alone to raise five children, two of them babies.

Mom's funeral is unclear in my mind but Grandma said I sat next to her in the church and kept asking loudly where my Mommy was. In the end she told me Mom was asleep in the white box on the altar and I had to be quiet so I didn't wake her up. Grandma smiled sadly when she recounted to me I had later berated Scott for reading too loudly on the altar. She said I told Scott he would wake Mom up too if he didn't keep his voice down.

It's strange I don't remember much of the funeral yet I clearly remember the burial. I was in Dad's arms and from his six foot plus height the open grave was the deepest thing I had ever seen. I still see the white casket being lowered as plain as if it were yesterday and Dad nearly squeezing the life out of me while it was happening. Why do I remember that? It was probably because I couldn't breathe. My Father was and still is a very strong man.

At three and a half years old my knowledge of the death process was very limited. Grandma used to look up in the sky and say Mom was in heaven but I kept remembering they put the casket down in the ground. Heaven was down not up if that's where Mom had gone or at least that's what I told Grandma. Grandma said the body went down but the spirit went up. This only served to confuse me further. Where had Mom actually gone; down or up?

The baby came home from the hospital after the funeral and I waited with great expectation for when Mom would come back from heaven to look after him. In my mind Mom had to come back because we had a new baby and four other kids to care for. Caring for us was Mom's job. Dad's job as I saw it was to talk on the telephone and draw big plans. The days went by and Dad continued to tend to the baby even though he also tried to talk on the telephone and draw up plans. I kept asking him when my Mom was coming back. Dad kept saying she wasn't. I said she was because of the baby. He said she wasn't; Mom was dead.

Finally it got too much for Dad and he sat me down to try to explain to me what death meant. I wish he wouldn't have. His explanation scarred me for life even though he did it with love and every intention to simply make me understand.

He likened Mom dying to the death of Scott's pet hamster. Scott had allowed me to help care for Monty from when I was barely able to walk. Virgil was annoyed Scott had let me help and not him, however when Monty died unexpectedly Virgil was secretly pleased and said at least he couldn't be blamed for the "rat dying." Monty's death had been a tragedy for both Scott and me and we buried him with great aplomb underneath the apple tree in the back yard. All this took place several months before Mom died. Now Dad was telling me Mom was like Monty who I knew would never come back. Monty was under the apple tree in his white cardboard box and Dad said my mom was no different. She was in her white box at the cemetery and would stay there forever.

I began to cry. I knew what Dad said clearly meant I wouldn't see my Mom anymore. Dad held me close to his chest and I still remember feeling it heave against my face. It felt like Dad's heart was going to burst and my heart felt like that too.

Things were going to get worse. I was extremely distressed after Dad's explanation of things and Dad was so upset about having to do it, the only way he could deal with things was to put me into bed and drown his sorrows in the drink. When Dad brought me in Virgil was already in bed with his face to the wall, the way he had slept every night since Mom died. I looked up at Dad's distressed features as he kissed me good night and tucked me in.

"Goodnight John, "he said miserably. "Please promise Daddy you won't ask about Mommy coming back any more."

I nodded at him silently.

"Sleep tight son." he said and turned off the night-light.

"Good night Daddy." Virgil said tearfully without turning his face.

Dad didn't answer him.

Once the light went out Virgil started to cry into his pillow sobbing he didn't know why Dad didn't love him any more. I got into bed with him and the two of us lay together with our arms around each other. After a while Virgil stopped crying and we lay side by side in the darkness listening to the rain on the roof. Virgil was clearly distraught and so was I but for two entirely different reasons.

I wanted Mom. He wanted Mom too but he wanted Dad more.

Thoughts of Mom in her white box plagued me. I figured it would be dark and lonely in there. I asked Virgil what he thought happened to Monty after Scott and I buried him. I wished I hadn't asked him that question. As I told you before Virgil was jealous of the fact Scott and I had shared a common interest in caring for Monty and now, hurting terribly about Dad, he didn't care if he hurt me. Without thinking he said wretchedly,

"Monty turned into bones. Then a dog dug him up and ate him."

It was like my world ended as those words were uttered.

I lay there horrified unable to sleep. If my mother was like Monty she was going to turn into bones too. All sorts of visions reared up and over the next two weeks reared up in the worst way possible.

Nightmares; dreadful, hysterical nightmares, from which I woke screaming uncontrollably. My screams woke the whole household including both babies, Dad and Grandma.

Nothing could calm me down; not even Grandma gathering me into her arms and holding me tight. I would sob in her arms as she rocked me crying for my mother and begging her not to turn into bones.

Even now I have a recurring nightmare of a walking skeleton holding a baby and calling my name. I've woken many a night in Thunderbird Five bathed in a cold sweat as a result of it. I've had the same dream for twenty-one years and only when I think about Mom's death.

One night Grandma said to Dad this couldn't be allowed continue. Dad agreed with her but said he had enough to do looking after the babies without sitting up with me every night too. Grandma was left to find a solution and her solution ended up being not only the calming influence in my life but the start of my future direction.

The stars.

I will always treasure the first night I sat with my Grandma under the stars. She called me out on the porch after dinner and asked me to sit down next to her on the chair. I sat obediently and folded my hands in my lap. I fixed my eyes on her and waited for her to speak.

"Sweetie. I want you to tell Grandma where Mommy is." she began carefully.

I told her she was in heaven.

"Yes she's on her way to heaven." Grandma agreed. "Where do you think heaven is John?"

I shrugged and replied I didn't know but I wished I did. At least I would know whether Mom was up there or down here.

Grandma put her arm around me and looked up into the night sky. I followed her gaze.

"Heaven is up past those stars." she pointed out.

"Heaven is a long way from here." I replied feeling sad.

Grandma went on to tell me that she had a little secret about Mom and she was the only one who knew about it. Mom hadn't quite made it to heaven yet. She was with Grandpa. All the people who died weren't allowed into heaven until they were ready to leave their family and until they were ready they had to become stars. Grandpa was a star she said and so was Mom. Grandpa would never make it to heaven and neither would Mom.

"Your mommy loved you and Daddy and your brothers too much to leave you behind and go to heaven." she said. "She will stay close by where you can see her for the rest of your life."

My heart lifted with those words and I smiled happily at Grandma. She picked me up and

my eyes eagerly scanned the sky. I asked her which star was Grandpa. She said I had to guess but he was up there all right sparkling away right next to Mom.

"Which one is mommy then?" I asked.

Grandma pointed at the evening star.

"Mommy is the biggest and most beautiful star." she said. "She completely outshines your Grandpa doesn't she?"

"She completely outshined him on the earth too." she added under her breath.

"Hello Mommy." I breathed happily and waved at the star.

"Now I want you to promise Grandma every night before you go to sleep you will look out the window and say good night to her. She will watch over you all night if you do and then there'll be no reason for you to be afraid sweetie. "

I nodded and asked what I should say. Grandma thought for a while.

"Say these words after me little one," she said tenderly.

"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky…"

"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky…" I repeated.

"and while she's there…"

"and while she's there… I repeated.

"she will never, ever die."

"she will never, ever die." I repeated.

"Now look up at Mommy and say goodnight by yourself."

"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky, and while she's there, she will never, ever die." I said slowly. "Good night mommy." I whispered.

Grandma hugged me and I wrapped my arms around her neck and rested my head on her shoulder. I loved her very much and even though she wasn't my mother it was nearly the same.

I slept well that night and my heart was at peace thanks to my Grandma.

I don't think she realises just how important those words were to me and how important they remain to this day.

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STAR STRUCK

There are two things I would say my Father and I have in common. The first is our great love of astronomy and the second is our complete failure to properly deal with Mom dying.

Luckily for both of us we had Grandma to see us through the bad days and there were more bad days than good in the beginning. Even now there are bad days and we look to Grandma for support and comfort. Alan's birthday is one of them. Mom's birthday is another. The two of us simply can't help ourselves.

When things got bad in the early days Grandma would hunt Dad and I out onto the porch together to look at "Mom." Personally I think Dad disapproved of me talking to the evening star but willing to do anything to stop me crying after Mom he sat patiently each night with me on his lap allowing me to say my words to the star. I would fix my big blue eyes on the heavens and gaze at the sky.

"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky, and while she's there, she will never, ever die."

I would turn to Dad and say. "That's right what I'm saying Daddy hey?"

Dad would nod tearfully and smile sadly. "Mommy will always be the brightest star in my sky Johnny." he used to say. "And she will never die in my heart either."

He would then distract me and point out a different star or constellation in an attempt to reduce the significance I was placing on the evening star. Good try Dad but it was never going to work. The evening star was my mom and it was everything. Instead of me being weaned off my ritual of talking to Mom, my new found astronomical knowledge, courtesy of Dad, served to lengthen the amount of time we spent out on the porch. Some nights we were out there for hours.

The nights when it rained sent Dad scurrying up to the attic to find his Astronomy books. If I couldn't see the evening star each night I became very unhappy. Dad would give me the books to "read" instead. Unfortunately I couldn't read and because the babies always seemed to know when it was raining and refused to settle, Dad didn't have time to read them to me himself.

I asked Grandma to read to me instead.

She made up some fabulous stories about the photographs in those books. She pretended the words told stories like Mom's star overlooking the earth at me and my brothers and the man in the moon stealing her from up in the sky to be with him forever.

"I think the man in the moon is like my Daddy." I told Grandma as she "read" the story. "Daddy says he wants to forget about life and go and be with Mommy forever Grandma…" I paused. "I want to be with Mommy forever too."

Grandma had tried not to look upset. Little did I realise how worried she was that Dad was on the brink of suicide.

"You and your Daddy can't be going off together to be with Mommy like that. "she tried to say light heartedly. "Who's going to look after Grandma and your brothers?"

I had shrugged. Like Dad, I only wanted to be with my Mom.



Yes, Dad and I certainly struggled to cope in that first year of our dreadful grief. But I think I coped better than Dad did…

It was Thanksgiving, the year our mother died.

Before Mom died our family looked forward to the Thanksgiving holiday. Dad always made an effort to be home and Mom spent days cleaning the house and cooking special treats for the celebration. I experienced three of those celebrations but only vaguely remember the last one because it wasn't a happy one for Mom and Dad.

I do remember Dad heading the table dressed in his best suit and Mom wearing a nice dress with her pretty curly hair framing her face. She was five months pregnant with Alan but was so thin and small Grandma said she couldn't even tell. As you can guess Grandma had come to visit from Kansas for Thanksgiving and she wore her best dress too. She proudly showed us the special ring Grandpa gave her the first Thanksgiving they were together and told us how Grandpa had said she was the thing he was most thankful for in the whole world. My brothers and I all had to wear good clothing and scrupulously wash before dinner. I particularly remember that bit because I hated it. Even my baby brother Gordon had been dressed up for the occasion.

After the food Mom and Grandma had prepared, one by one Dad asked each person to stand up in front of the family and say what it was we were thankful for. This part went on for ages and Grandma raved on for nearly half an hour. Dad even raised his eyebrows at Scott at how "thankful" Grandma was being. Scott lowered his eyes and tried not to laugh and Mom caught them both. She frowned at Scott and then at Dad.

Dad stood up then and said the main thing he was thankful for was that we still had heads above water considering things were on hold in the business and there was yet another baby coming.

My memories of what followed after he said that are terrible.

Mom lowered her head and started to cry about the coming baby because she felt responsible for the accident that had caused the pregnancy.

Grandma glared at Dad for mentioning the baby when he knew Mom was unhappy about it.

Dad looked at Grandma and said he didn't mean to sound like he didn't want the baby. He had only meant the pregnancy had been a shock.

Grandma put her arm around Mom and assured her things would be all right once the baby came.

Dad walked around the table to apologise, crouched beside Mom's chair and wiped her tears away with his handkerchief.



Dad reassured Mom what Grandma said was true. Things would be all right once the baby came. He begged her to stop crying and stop worrying about their money troubles. He pointed out she needed to eat something otherwise the baby wouldn't grow properly.

Mom said she didn't care and cried harder.

Dad told her he loved her. He said he was sorry for the comment over and over again.

I didn't have to speak that year which was good with all the drama going on but Dad warned me I had to speak the year I turned four and I had better start thinking of things to be thankful for.

As it turned out things weren't all right once the baby came.

Mom died and everything in our home, including Thanksgiving changed.

Grandma reminded Dad one night over dinner that Thanksgiving was fast approaching and asked if he minded if she purchased a turkey and other trimmings for the celebration. Dad had simply looked at her. I still see his face.

"This family has nothing to be thankful for at the moment." he'd replied indifferently. "Forget Thanksgiving Mom. I've got better uses for my money right now. Things are stretched to the limit as it is around here."

Grandma had gone to say something and then didn't. Our meal continued in silence. The next morning after Dad had taken and Scott and Virgil to school Grandma told me to put on my shoes and fetch my coat. She dressed Gordon who was not quite two and then Alan who was eight months old. She put us in the car and took us to the shopping centre.

It wouldn't have been easy for Grandma then. She struggled to juggle Gordon in the push chair, Alan on one hip and me beside her getting tireder by the minute.

"Please be good for Grandma little one." she said to me as I started to complain at having to walk so far without a hand to hold. "That's a good boy."

Grandma withdrew her own money from her bank account and went to the market to buy all the things we needed to celebrate Thanksgiving the way we always did. She stayed up the night before to prepare everything even though she was really tired from caring for the babies. She found Mom's best china plates in the back of the cupboard, searched for the good glassware and fussed about to set a beautiful table.

On the day of the celebration she made an effort to put on a pretty dress and find that special ring of Grandpa's. She dressed up Alan and Gordon. She told Scott, Virgil and me to wash and go and find our best clothes and put them on. I'd grown out of mine since last year and didn't have any others but Scott searched about in Virgil's cupboard and found me something decent but rather oversized to wear.

"You look real nice Johnny." he said to me lovingly as he did my tie. "Mommy would say so too if she was here to see you."

I noticed him checking Virgil's tie and then watched him struggle to do his own. He looked at himself in the mirror to make sure it was straight. He wiped his eyes when he'd finished. Mom had always done his tie on Thanksgiving and this was the first year he'd had to do it for himself.

When Dinner time came around, Grandma called Dad away from his study where he was working on a pretty important contract. She asked him to come to the table. Dad was dressed in an old shirt and a pair of well worn jeans that had certainly seen better days. He wasn't expecting to be celebrating Thanksgiving. He stopped at the door to the dining room and surveyed the beautiful table. He then looked at Grandma and each of us carefully and in silence.

"What's all this then Mom?" he asked in a blunt and agitated tone.

"Its Thanksgiving day son." she said to him. "Won't you join us?"

Dad exploded at Grandma reminding her he'd said there was nothing for any of us to be thankful for this year. His children had lost their mother, he was struggling to make ends meet, he'd had to sell the farm to pay for Mom's funeral and here she was wasting what little spare money he did have on a stupid meal that counted for absolutely nothing.

I wanted to pull on Dad's sleeve and tell him Grandma paid for everything but I was too frightened to speak to Dad sometimes let alone interrupt when he was angry over something. He stormed out of the house and left us alone with Grandma.

Grandma only ever cried once in my sight and that was the day she did it. When Dad left she paled and stood in silence for a while before turning to us and trying to hide a voice shaking with disappointment and emotion.

"Well. Daddy looks like he's not going to be able to join us this year. That's a shame isn't it? Never mind little ones let's rearrange things shall we? Scott, you can sit in Daddy's place since you're the oldest. Virgil you sit over there... and Johnny... would you like to sit in Mommy's place?"

I looked over at the chair that had been conspicuously empty since March. I shook my head and sat in my own chair at the end of the table. I couldn't sit in Mommy's place. Nobody did.

"Very well." she said with difficulty and I saw her beginning to break down. "Grandma will sit there instead. Is that all right with everyone?"

None of us said anything.

Grandma painstakingly served all the trappings of the meal she had lovingly prepared for us. All of us fiddled with the food on our plate, lacking an appetite thinking about Dad. Grandma didn't eat anything either. Alan did nothing but play with his food and every now and then grinned at Grandma as he caked even more gravy over himself. By the end his tiny blonde curls and his clothes were covered in it.

Grandma took a sip of a brandy she'd poured for herself and stood up to address us.

"Children, the Tracy family has a lot to be thankful for on this special day. We must remember unlike many people in this country we have food on our table and clothes on our back. We live in this comfortable home and we have the gift of each other. We are close and loving family. Now I'd like each of you to stand up and tell everyone around this fine table why you are truly thankful for the things you have in your life. This year I will be last since your Daddy is not here to take his rightful place and speak for the family."

Everyone looked at Scott. He was the oldest and had always gone first after Grandma and Mom.

Scott swallowed and rose to his feet. He looked around the table and fixed his eyes on Grandma.

"Ummm..." he began in an unusually small voice."I am thankful that I'm in the fourth grade and learning to running write this year. Ummm...I'm thankful that I got another little brother this year. Ummm... I'm thankful that Daddy is getting better since Mommy died and ummm... ummm....I'm real thankful for you coming here from Kansas to live with us Grandma."

Grandma eyes were teary but she smiled at him and asked Virgil to stand up. Virgil obeyed. He was six years old now but his eyes never left the floor. His voice was tinier than Scott's.

"Ummm..I am also thankful for my new brother. He's real cute and has a nice smile." he said glancing at Alan who grinned back. " Ummm...I am real thankful that Daddy's letting me play Mommy's piano now. I haven't been allowed to play much since Mommy died. Ummm... I am also thankful Grandma 'membered Thanksgiving for us even though Daddy didn't want to come."

He looked over at Grandma with tears in his eyes. "That's all I can think of Grandma." he said. "Can I please sit down now?"

Now it was my turn; my first Thanksgiving to say out loud what I was thankful for. I stood up and looked at my brothers shyly. Gordon gave me a cheeky smile from his high chair across the table. He too was covered in food.

"I am thankful for my Mommy being up in the sky at night where I can still see her." I said clearly and sincerely. "That's all Grandma."

"What about your new little brother?" Grandma asked.

I looked at Alan who was busy sucking his fingers after puddling around in his dinner.

"No Grandma." I said honestly. "I am not thankful for him. I don't have my Mommy since I got Alan."

Grandma looked at me in silence. Obviously I had said something wrong. I sat down and hung my head. Well I wasn't thankful for Alan and Dad had told us to always tell the truth.

Now it was Grandma's turn. She stood up and looked around at us. She looked so pretty in her nice dress and Grandpa's expensive ring sparkled on her finger.

"I suppose it's up to me then isn't it?" she said in an unsettled voice. "Well, here goes. I am thankful for most things I have received this year. I have been given a new little Grandson to love, at least I think that's what he is under that pile of gravy. I have been given a new life here in Boston with my five beautiful grandsons. I have been given a chance to help my brave and wonderful son work hard to rebuild his life ... and… his business... and..."

Then it happened. Right there and then in front of us Grandma burst into tears. Scott, Virgil and I didn't know what to do but I followed Scott's lead and rose from my chair and hugged her. None of us had seen Grandma cry before and we all felt so bad she had gone to all this trouble and Dad had not been the least bit thankful for it.

"So much has gone wrong with your Daddy little ones." she whispered and began to swallow hard to calm herself down. "I simply cannot believe his terrible grief has caused him to walk away from his babies on Thanksgiving. That poor young man has totally lost his way with his heart. I cannot be thankful for that."

By the time Dad came home Grandma had calmed herself down and had started to become angry. Scott and Virgil were helping her clear the table and put everything away when he walked through the front door and slammed it shut. I was sitting in front of the television as he came inside. He told me to go to my room. As I walked obediently down the hall I heard him tell Scott and Virgil they had to go to their rooms too. He wanted a quiet word with Grandma.

Grandma gave him more than he bargained for then that's for sure. His quiet word with Grandma turned out to Grandma's not so quiet word with him. Grandma is really dangerous to deal with when someone genuinely upsets her and that someone at the moment was Dad. She told Dad in no uncertain terms that he should stop dwelling on what he didn't have anymore and start being thankful for the things he still did have in his life like his five precious little boys who loved him dearly. The third of those little boys had made his very first thanksgiving speech today and he had walked away from him. What sort of Father was he becoming?

"A bad one Jeff Tracy" she said. "That's what."

Grandma did not accept his tearful explanation that he had gone to be with Mom at the cemetery to try to cope with how he felt seeing us around the beautiful table without her. Grandma said that was a load of hogwash and simply an excuse to wallow in self-pity. All she saw was a man who walked out on his family when his family had always been the most important thing in the world to him.

Dad simply hung his head and apologised.

"My family is the most important thing in the world to me Mom." he said. "I'm so sorry."

Well Dad not coping at Thanksgiving was nothing compared to how he didn't cope with things the day Alan walked to him. After Alan took his first steps into Dad's outstretched arms, Dad held him tight and started to cry. I thought he was crying because now Alan would be even more of a nuisance than what he was already. But that wasn't the reason.

Grandma told him once Alan walked it was time. He shook his head and said he couldn't do it. Not yet. She reminded him they had agreed to do it months ago and now he had to do it. No argument.

Time for what I wondered as Virgil and I watched Grandma bring in twenty empty cardboard boxes she had been storing in the attic for quite some time.

"Here boys." she huffed, handing each of us a box. "Cart these up to Daddy's room for Grandma will you."

Both of us had obliged, Virgil having great fun trying to climb the stairs with the box over his head and me being ever so careful not to fall backwards and land with the box on top of me. The boxes were heavy.

"These boxes would make neat cars for us to play in." Virgil said. "I wonder if we can have one. Can you ask Daddy for me Johnny?" he pleaded. "You know he'll say no if I ask him." he ended glumly.

I didn't understand why Dad always said no to everything Virgil wanted. He was never like that before Mom died. I agreed to ask for the box. The thought of messing around in one of those boxes with Virgil sounded like fun.

When we got to Dad's room we both paused at the door. We weren't allowed in Dad's room without permission. It was a rule and all of us always obeyed Dad.

"Daddy?" I called peering around the door into the room. "Are you in there?"

Dad came to the doorway. His eyes were red and swollen.

"What son?" he asked in a voice full of grief.

"Daddy. Grandma asked us to bring these boxes here for you." I said not taking my eyes off him. He had made a big effort not to cry in front of us since Thanksgiving and had tried really hard to make Christmas special even though Mom was gone. Christmas had been three months ago.

I was worried what had made him start crying again. Then I remembered what Virgil wanted me to ask.

"Daddy" I said in a tiny voice. "May we play with one please?"

"No you may not." he snapped, his eyes welling up as he looked at Virgil. "They're not to play in. They're for your mother's things. Now the two of you go and play outside and leave me do what I have to do in here."

With that Dad picked up the boxes and went back to what he was doing.

Virgil was frightened of Dad's tone and obeyed immediately but I had heard what he said about my mother's things and walked inside Dad's bedroom behind him to see what he was doing. My heart fell at what I saw. On Dad's bed lay all that was left of my mother's life, her clothes, books, shoes, music and perfume. Next to the perfume lay a pile of pink baby clothing, the clothing purchased before my birth and kept through two later pregnancies in the vain hope that Dad might have given her a daughter.

I felt my lips start to tremble as I realised what Dad was doing. He was disposing of my Mom's personal belongings...all of them. He began folding things lovingly and placing them in the boxes but as his emotions welled and the pain became unbearable, the items were treated more roughly and in the end he was sobbing tragically and simply throwing things in one on top of the other.

I started to cry loudly when I saw him throw Mom's books into the box as if they never counted. Young as I was I still remembered how much she loved to read. Dad swung around on me demanding to know what I was still doing there when he'd given me a direct order to go outside with Virgil and play. He sounded like he was in the military again and I was being insubordinate. I cried louder at his tone and of course Grandma was up the stairs in ten seconds flat demanding to know what the matter was this time.

She found me begging. "No Daddy" and Dad swallowing hard to control himself and demand between his own sobs that I leave the room and stop my nonsense. This was something that needed to be done and why couldn't I leave him alone in his misery to get it over with.

"Johnny."she said gently. "Leave Daddy be. This is hard for him sweetie."

Hard for him? Dad should have tried being four years old and watching his mother's things get thrown around like trash.

She held out her hand. "Come along with Grandma child."

As I took her hand she looked at Dad and asked quietly if he had enough boxes. Dad lowered his head and simply nodded.

"Good." she said. "Get on with things Jeff and I'll make the arrangements to have them collected in the morning."

Later that day, I sat on the couch and watched him carry the identical boxes down the stairs one at a time and set them on the porch. After the twentieth one was placed outside, Grandma stood beside the door waiting for Dad to come inside the house. When he did I noticed for the first time that at thirty six years old my Father looked ten years older than his age.

Grandma looked at Dad in silence. Dad looked at her. His bottom lip began to tremble. Grandma slowly held out her arms to him. I watched as Dad threw himself into them and began to sob tragically.

"Lucy's gone momma." he wept. "Now I know she's really gone."

"Sweetie your little girl's been gone for over a year now. You know you needed to do this to move on." she soothed. "You and your little boys have to move forward in your lives now not live in the past."

I've never seen anyone as heartbroken as my Father that day. Even three Scotches with Grandma didn't help. He sat desolately at the Dinner table eating nothing, saying nothing, acknowledging no-one.

Grandma sent us all off to bed early.

"Daddy needs to be alone." she told Virgil and me firmly as she turned out the light in our room. "Now I'm wanting you little ones to go to sleep for me and not carry on. I don't want him upset anymore today."

I lay there for a while feeling sad for Dad but feeling sadder for myself. I didn't want Mom's things to be taken away. Dad had not allowed us in his room since Mom died because her things were still in the cupboards. They had her distinctive lavender scent on them and he didn't want us crying after her by smelling it. But little did he know Virgil and I often crept into his room while he was working to touch her clothing and smell the lavender. I ached for Mom's loving touch and somehow when I was near her clothing I felt it. Now that her things were boxed up downstairs I wouldn't be able to feel that any longer. And I wanted to.

I got out of bed and went downstairs. Grandma was in the kitchen washing dishes and Dad was nowhere to be seen. I went out on the porch and opened two of the cartons. I took out five of Mom's books, her blue pullover and her lavender perfume. It was a lot for a four year old to carry but somehow I made it back upstairs.

I placed the books in the bottom drawer of my dresser. I opened the perfume and as the scent rose my hands started to shake as I saw her face and felt her arms around me. I dropped it and it leaked all over the pullover. When you are only four years old and know you've just dropped a bottle of expensive perfume onto the carpeting, it's hard not to give yourself away. While I was trying to put the lid on the perfume in the dark, Virgil woke up. He got out of bed and turned on the night-light.

"What are doing Johnny?" he asked.

"Nothing." I began defensively.

Virgil looked at the pullover and smelt the perfume.

"They're mommy's things." he said his own eyes welling with tears. "You better put them back. Daddy won't let you keep them Johnny."

"Yes he will." I said determinedly getting into bed with the pullover.

"Well I want something too." he said. "It's not fair if you can have something of mommy's and I can't."

I didn't notice or care that Virgil went down the hall to complain to Grandma. All I cared about was being close to my mother. As I caressed the soft blue wool of the pullover on top of the bed covers I breathed in her scent and for the first time in twelve months felt safe and warm and loved.

Then into the room came Grandma with Virgil behind her. Grandma told me firmly I couldn't keep the pullover. It had to go back in the box and so did the perfume. She made no mention of the books but Virgil pointed out where they were. Grandma tried to get me to give up the pullover.

"Mommy's gone John." she said gently. "And her things have to go now too sweetie."

Well I didn't look like my mother but I had every inch of the Evans stubbornness in me. I point blank refused. Grandma threatened to get Dad knowing how much I feared his disapproval. Even that didn't deter me. There was no way I was giving up that pullover for anyone.

Next thing I knew my Father was in the room courtesy of Virgil, emotionally spent and definitely in no mood for dealing with me. He smelt the lavender and exploded.

"I've had enough of your nonsense today John." he spat tearing the pullover from my arms and dragging me to my feet. "When are you going to get it into your head that your mother's dead!"

I started to scream as he gripped my shoulder and hauled me towards the bathroom. As he irately turned on the shower, Grandma reached out to grab his arm firmly. She growled in a low and angry voice.

"Jeff please stop all this right now ." she warned. "Let the child go."

I continued to scream hysterically as Dad's eyes met Grandma's.

"You can't be wanting to do this to your little boy," she said a little more gently looking at the shower and easing Dad's hand from my shoulder. "Jeff, he's only a baby."

I remember Dad's grip loosening as he stared and Grandma taking my hand in hers. I threw myself against her, completely terrified of my Father, shaking uncontrollably and still sobbing my heart out.

I remember Dad swallowing hard and turning off the shower as he looked at me cowering against Grandma. His eyes clouded over with an incredible sadness that even a four year old recognised. He'd nearly made a terrible mistake.

"Momma I'm on the edge at the moment and I truly can't take anymore of this drama today." he admitted to Grandma as the tears ran down his face. "You're right. He is only a baby. I'm sorry I lost my temper with him. Please... momma... please just clean the kid up for me will you and quieten him down. I'll put Lucy's things back in the box and wipe up the perfume he spilt on the carpeting."

With that he turned and left the bathroom crying silently.

Grandma knelt in front of me and clasped me to her as I continued to sob and sob and sob. I didn't open my eyes to look at anything. All I saw was my Father about to throw me clothes and all into the shower to get rid of the smell which reminded him of my mother. I simply cried and cried and cried as if I would never stop.

"Shhh baby…. Shhhh now…don't cry." she comforted. "It's all right. Daddy wasn't going to hurt you. . Shhh little one…Come on now…Settle down…shh…."

I took Grandma almost an hour to stop me crying I had been so frightened of Dad and so upset at losing the last physical evidence of my mother's existence. In that hour Grandma put me in the bath and gently washed me to remove the lavender smell. She dressed me in a new set of pyjamas and took me back to bed. She rocked me in her arms speaking to me tenderly.

"Sweetie Daddy loves you very much and didn't mean to frighten you just now. He needs you to be a big boy and try to really understand Mommy isn't coming back. It was Grandma who asked Daddy to get rid of Mommy's things darling. You see Johnny I need his heart to get better so he can be happy again. "

As I began to calm down she said very quietly.

"Now Grandma is going downstairs to find you something special of mommy's to keep Johnny. But it has to be our secret all right?"

I snivelled and nodded.

Grandma came back with one of Mom's handkerchiefs. It was pretty and had her name on it.

"Keep this in your pillowcase Johnny. "she said gently Daddy and your brothers won't ever know if we don't tell all right?"

I nodded and looked lovingly at my Grandma.

If no-one else understood, she did.

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STARRY EYED

After a very sad and traumatic childhood, more of which I don't care to divulge, I entered my teens. The evening of my thirteenth birthday was spent in Dad's room receiving a clinical lecture on the facts of life complete with a warning I was a Tracy son and I was expected to treat women with respect and protect myself if I ever got involved with one. At thirteen all this came as quite an eye-opener especially as I only spent my days listening attentively in school and my spare time reading about the stars, researching them and looking at them through my telescope. Girls had never even entered my head and here was Dad giving me graphic details about having sex with them.

Astronomy was now my passion and I shared this passion with Dad. When Dad was home that is. He was a true workaholic now. Twenty hour days were nothing to him and his efforts had been well and truly rewarded. We were an extremely wealthy family. However I have to admit I'd rather have had a little less money and seen a lot more of Dad.

Lucky for me I still had Grandma. Grandma was constantly on my back about eating more and trying to build myself up.

"Lord knows your mother was right in saying you are nothing like your brothers." she'd exclaim as I picked at my dinner when everyone else had finished theirs. "It's no wonder you're a slight as you are. You eat like a sparrow John."

I have to admit I was very slender in build even though I had the Tracy height. I still looked nothing like my two older brothers who had both grown into handsome young men and now had girls falling off them everywhere. I looked nothing like Gordon with his red hair and honey brown eyes. He's lucky I didn't act like him either the clown. The only brother I bore some resemblance to was my youngest brother who was nearly nine years old. Alan and I shared the same blonde hair and blue eyes. But that's all we shared.

I detested him with a passion.

No matter how much Grandma told me otherwise in my mind Alan had killed my mother. I had even gone so far as to say so when he was three years younger and received a huge reality check from Grandma for my efforts. Grandma said Alan did nothing of the sort. Yeah well I know that now but back then you can't blame a kid for thinking it. Your Mom goes to hospital to have a baby; you get dragged up to the hospital in the middle of the night to see her crying in a bed with wires hanging out of her, the baby comes home and they put your Mom in a white box and bury her right in front of your eyes. Someone had to be responsible and as far as I was concerned it was Alan.

OK Grandma for what it's worth I know Alan didn't kill Mom. It was medical negligence. But I still don't like the kid despite it. If I had a least favourite brother he's it. He's an obnoxious and obstinate brat.

So can anyone explain to me why I always stuck up for him around Dad and took the blame for everything he did wrong? Even I don't know the answer to that one! It's the eighth wonder of the world.

I was a true middle child in my teens. I didn't stand out except if someone began to talk about astronomy. Then I took centre stage. There wasn't much I didn't know about that subject. I loved the stars and everything to do them. Needless to say Dad encouraged me in my interest and even started to talk to me about a career in NASA. I listened with interest.

I followed in Scott and Virgil's footsteps in Junior High and then moved into High school. High School is where I learnt my first lesson in love. Physical love anyway. It was an experience I will never forget and not for the reasons you're thinking of either.

My first time with a girl was a first time for me in more ways than one. Not only was it the first time I ever experienced the pleasure of the act, it was the first time I ever smoked and the first and last time I ever got suspended from school. Luckily Dad didn't tell Grandma why I was suspended. At least I don't think he did. No I'm sure he didn't. If Grandma knew what happened with Jasmine Andrews I would have more than just known about it. She would have killed me.

Being a Tracy son and following in Scott and Virgil's footsteps was hard.

Scott had been the big man on campus, remembered for his academic and athletic abilities. Virgil had a presence about him too. He wasn't as well renowned as Scott but he had still been tall, handsome and mysterious as well as cutting the impressive figure of sportsman and academic achiever.

But I was the middle child. I wasn't the big man on campus. I wasn't anyone special. I did well in school but could only be termed as academically gifted not brilliant. I definitely wasn't overly athletic but I enjoyed fencing and other non-contact sports. I was tall like Scott and Virgil, but had the distinct advantage of being blonde haired and blue eyed…and the son of a billionaire.

And those three things attracted Jasmine.

"Hey Tracy," she said to me one recess period as I sat alone reading an astronomy book. "What are you reading?"

I haven't told you about Jasmine Andrews yet and boy there is a heck of a lot to tell too. I think I'd better say a couple of things before I go too far into what happened to me when I had my first experience as a man.

My only defence to my Father at the time is my only defence to you and it would also be my only defence to Grandma if she found out. I was innocently led along by Jasmine Andrews and whilst I know I went willingly I truly did not realise what I was getting myself into with her until it was too late.

You see Jasmine Andrews was a lady of the world. She was experienced in every sense of the word.

She was in my science and Math classes. She was extremely pretty and "very" well developed for a sixteen year old. In addition to her physical attractiveness she was outgoing, outspoken and quite frankly "out there" if you want to talk about where life is taking you.

She usually hung around the footballers and had developed quite a reputation amongst them for her "outgoing" nature if you know what I mean.

It came as quite a surprise when she wanted to talk to someone like me. I was her complete opposite, quiet, unassuming and inexperienced.

I was always polite and attentive to any girls I encountered in the course of my day to day existence. My brothers and I were expected to be polite to everyone but at Dad's insistence we had to be particularly polite to women.

At that point in my life I didn't have a girl-friend by my own choice. I hadn't actively pursued one in High School simply because I didn't have the time between astronomy, reading and studying. Neither did I need the distraction. I wanted to make something of myself and Dad had warned me I needed to excel in High School if I wanted to be accepted into Harvard.

The two of us struck up a very pleasant conversation that afternoon. She asked about what life was like being the son of a billionaire. I said money didn't count for anything in our family and life was no different for me than for anyone else. I told her our Grandma still expected us to do our chores around the house. I said we had to take out the trash, wash and dry the dishes and mow the lawn for Dad.

She said she couldn't believe we didn't have servants to do all those things for us.

"Dad has a Retainer." I said. "But Mr. Kyrano just oversees things. He looks after Dad's diary and sees to the marketing. We still have to do our share of things in the house."

"Oh." she shrugged sounding disappointed. "I thought rich kids didn't do chores."

Obviously Jasmine didn't know my Grandma. I'd had a Math test two days before and couldn't do my allocated chore because I was studying. I'd asked Gordon to do it for me but he'd forgotten. Grandma literally dragged me out of bed close to midnight to dry the dishes.

"You know you have responsibilities young man." she'd flashed. "There's no excuse for your laziness. Are you hearing me? Things just don't get done by themselves around here you know."

Jasmine then started asking me about my Dad. She wanted to know if he had a girl-friend. I shrank within myself and became defensive.

"No. My Dad's never had a girl-friend." I replied. "He only ever had Mom."

She had said flippantly.

"Yeah but billionaires always have women falling all over them. I've seen your Dad. He has to have a girl-friend. How old is he?"

I replied my Father was forty-eight last birthday. She said he had to have a girl-friend hiding somewhere with his looks. Men that age needed women. She asked me if he worked late in the evening. I said yes. She asked if he didn't come home at all sometimes. I said yes, Dad often rang from the Office and said he was working right through the night. She told me it was only an excuse because he had other places he'd rather be other than at home. He had a woman all right.

"After all" she said. "Your Dad can't bring a woman home with him with your Grandma in the house."

I was quite taken back by her worldly assumptions but I was sure I knew Dad better than she did. Grandma used to hint to Dad he should start dating again but Dad shook his head and said dating didn't interest him any more. He'd only ever love my Mom.

"No Jasmine." I ended up replying. "I can assure you my Dad doesn't have a girl-friend."

Then the clincher.

"What about you John? Do you have a girl-friend?"

I said no, I had been too busy for girls since getting to High School. I explained to her about wanting to get into Harvard and my aspirations for myself once I graduated. I said there would be plenty of time for women after I went to College. It was funny. When I said those words I reminded myself of my Father. That was definitely something he would say.

"It's a shame your good looks are being wasted." she said, twirling her long blonde hair around her middle finger and looking at me in a way no girl I had ever talked to had looked. I had studied books on body language the previous summer and the language her body was giving me spelt the message out loud and clear. Jasmine was interested in getting to know me better.

If I wasn't so stupid I would have realised she didn't give a hoot about me. She was only keen to be involved with a Tracy son for a set purpose and only my Dad and I know what that purpose was. If Grandma ever found out why Jasmine Andrews wanted to make my "personal acquaintance" I'd never hear the end of it.

Anyway one thing led to another to use the phrase which is so popular around here when things go wrong. Over the next three days she dressed in a way she knew would attract my attention. It's hard not to notice someone whose skirt is up to here and blouse is cut down to there. She teased me with innuendo during recess and always made sure I was looking before she conspicuously bent over during Math class in her super short skirt to "pick up her pencil".

Her efforts started to achieve their desired intention. Despite my aspirations of future greatness, I was first and fore mostly male and all this was awakening all sorts of feelings and desires I never knew I had. My mind went back to what Dad had told me at thirteen, if I ever got involved with a girl I had to protect myself.

I really knew nothing about what a man was supposed to do. I'd read books of every type over the years but certainly never a book on that subject. I guessed things would just come naturally if it ever got that far. Well let me tell you Jasmine made damn sure of that.

Her seduction of me was finally complete on the fourth day. As we sat side by side in the Cafeteria at lunch-time her left hand wandered underneath the table. I coloured beetroot red when I realised what she was up to and how I was reacting to it. What made things worse was my brother Gordon sitting at the next table with two of his freshmen buddies.

"Jasmine, not here." I said embarrassed. "It's not appropriate."

"Where then?" she breathed. "The gym?"

I don't know what the hell was in my head when I said this but I suggested we both cut the next class and agreed to use the gym. I knew there were no classes set down for the gym in the afternoon so we would be pretty safe there. I'd never cut a class in my entire life but I simply had to at that moment. Well what else is a guy supposed to do? I couldn't take this build up of steam inside me any more.

I'd never cut a class in my life but I did that day. I really found myself up to my neck in it then. Jasmine led me into the storeroom where the gym mats were stored. She'd obviously planned the whole thing because from underneath the last one she pulled out two joints. She lit hers and handed one to me.

"No thanks. I don't smoke." I said and meant it. I was prepared to give up my innocence but not smoke dope at school.

"You don't cut class and make out either." she said exhaling the smoke. "Try it John. It'll help you relax."

Again I don't know what I was thinking or not thinking but I did what she said as if I had no control over the matter. I coughed and spluttered a bit but after a while it definitely had the desired effect. Before I knew it my clothes were strewn across the floor and I, John Glenn Tracy, at seventeen years of age was about to become a man.

Now my Father is a very powerful person who gets his point across every time he makes it. You know better than to ignore his point too. I might have been half dazed from the joint but Dad's lecture to me at age thirteen still reared up clearly in my mind.

I had to protect myself.

Luckily for me I had anticipated this was the direction things were heading with Jasmine and I had the required protection in my jacket pocket. Jasmine shook her head.

"No I don't want you to wear that." she said.

"I have to." I said feeling quite taken back. I thought she'd appreciate the fact I was being responsible.

Not Jasmine. She said it would spoil things for her and she'd rather I didn't use it. She said I'd be safe enough. I'll leave it up to you to guess at this particular point who I took notice of ... my sensible Father or a naked Jasmine Andrews.

However protection was one thing. Being caught was another. Not thirty seconds after I had released all the steam that had been building courtesy of Jasmine Andrews, the door to the small room opened. Standing there dumbfounded was both the Principal and the Janitor. They had come down to the gym expecting to assess the condition of the floor mats. They hadn't expected to find model student John Tracy cutting class, butt naked as the day he was born and reeking of dope.

Both of us were ordered to the Principal's Office and our parents were called. As the Principal made the call to my Father I sank lower and lower in the chair facing him. Dad was going to kill me.

The Principal asked me to wait outside while he dealt with Jasmine. My Father said he would be there in fifteen minutes. Then he would deal with me.

You have no idea how sick I felt waiting for Dad's car to pull up in the drive and what it was like to be an errant Tracy son after the Principal finished speaking to him. I was asked by both Dad and the Principal where I'd gotten the joints. What could I say? Jasmine had told the Principal they were mine and Dad was too angry to consider believing me when I said they weren't. I was then asked why I cut Math. What a stupid question. It was obvious why wasn't it? I was asked if I knew this type of behaviour was unacceptable. I lowered my head and said yes. Then I was suspended for a whole week on threat of expulsion if it ever happened again.

Dad was furious and said over and over to me he couldn't believe he'd had to be called up to a Principal's Office to discuss the behaviour of one of his sons. He grilled me over and over about the joints and made it quite clear it was the first and last time I'd ever be trying anything like that. He had a lot to say about Jasmine too and even more about jeopardising my place at Harvard by being suspended from school.

The week I spent at home doing errands for Dad was brutal as each errand was accompanied by a lecture on morals and it was made all the worse with Grandma asking me all the time why I had been suspended.

"I got a little physical in the gym Grandma." was all I told her hoping she'd think I'd inadvertently decked someone during a basketball game.

She gave me that look of hers which worried me because it was the look which usually meant, "I know the real story."

"Well I hope you've learnt to keep your hands to yourself in future." she said cocking an eye at me before heading off to the kitchen shaking her head.

However if you think my first experience ended with only a suspension from school you are mighty wrong. The worst was yet to come.

Seven weeks later I came home from school to be confronted at the door by Dad. He was livid. I've seen my Father angry over the years believe me but never as angry as he was at me that day. He demanded I go straight into his Office but I hadn't taken two steps inside the front door before he rounded on me in absolute fury, grabbed me by the arm, dragged me down the hall, and virtually threw me into the chair in front of his work desk. As I struggled to sit upright in the chair he slammed the door to the Office so hard it nearly fell of its hinges.

"You've got some fast explaining to do to me boy." he thundered with a face of stone. "Mighty fast."

I looked up at Dad totally dumbfounded. What did I have to explain? I hadn't been brave enough to even blink the wrong way since I'd been allowed back at school after my suspension. I got up in the morning, went to school, listened attentively, came home, did my homework, did my chores and went to bed. I hadn't even watched television or considered looking through my telescope.

Dad shoved a paper in my face. It looked official.

"Read it!" he demanded and then paced the room as I did so. I began to pale as I read each line. By the time I reached the end I felt totally sick. The letter was from an attorney acting for Jasmine Andrews' Father. The letter stated Jasmine was pregnant and I was responsible. The letter was seeking compensation from Dad and lots of it.

My blue eyes flew to my Father's in absolute horror.

"Well?" he seethed. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

"Dad… It wasn't me." I said hardly able to get the words out I was so traumatised. "Honest."

Dad went off like a rocket. He said of course it had to be me. I was caught in the act by the Principal in case I'd forgotten. He angrily demanded to know why I hadn't protected myself and said this was exactly why I needed to do it.

"Love is supposed to make children not stupidity, "he yelled in my shrinking ears. "You're only seventeen years old John. You're far too young to be a Father. What the hell were you thinking at the time? Nothing obviously by what I'm reading from this Attorney."

I tried to get a word in edgewise which is extremely difficult when Jeff Tracy gets going on anything. He absolutely railed at me. I didn't know what I was more afraid of, him or the prospect of becoming a Father when I had wanted to go to Harvard.

"That's it with College now you realise that don't you?" he roared. "You'll have to come and work for me straight out of High School. I'm not having any of this compensation twaddle. You'll have to stand by the girl and marry her. I can't believe you could be so blasted stupid John. I've had to call in my attorney now too. He's on his way over here to discuss what can be done do to get you out of this damn mess."

Finally he took a break to breathe.

"Dad," I pleaded. "I did protect myself. I'm telling you the truth."

"You can't have used the thing properly then." he barked at me. "If you did this wouldn't have happened."

"Dad I did." I insisted. "Jasmine told me not to but I said I had to. I did Sir."

"Well it should never have happened in the first place. I send you to school to learn with your brain not experiment with your body. I hope you're damned well pleased with yourself. You just wait until your Grandmother hears about this. It's going to be living hell around here."

I read the letter again. The document was my death warrant. I couldn't believe Jasmine had ended up pregnant.

"Dad." I said hoping for one last time he would listen to me. "It wasn't me. I swear it couldn't be."

"Did you have sex with the girl or not?" he snapped.

"Yes Sir I did." I admitted shamefully.

"Well it is you. Face up to your responsibilities. Like I said to you at thirteen, sex and stupidity don't mix, particularly in the Tracy family. Stupidity costs money John."

The next few days were the worst days of my life. Not only was Dad furious to the point of homicide, I had to deal with the fact that even though I wouldn't finish High School for six more months my life path was now laid out for me. I would be going to work for Dad instead of going to College, getting married to a girl I didn't even like and being a Father to a baby.

Grandma didn't help things by adding to the stress and asking why Dad's attorney was over at the house every five minutes and hauling me into his study for yet another interview.

"Nothing's come of that gym incident I hope." she said in a worried tone. "I told you should have kept your hands to yourself young man."

"Yes ma'am I know." I gulped, still clinging to the vain hope she didn't know what had happened.

My Dad's ruthlessness as a businessman certainly stood him in good stead when dealing with this situation. Acting on advice from his Attorney he demanded Jasmine underwent three independent tests to assess the duration and paternity of her pregnancy. Dad agreed to pay for all Jasmine's expenses. The attorney then instructed I undergo the necessary paternity tests.

I panicked. I thought I'd have to provide "samples" and cringed at the thought of it. Dad said to quit my complaining. It was my fault I gotten into this mess and I'd better damned well co-operate with his Attorney to try to get myself out of it. Fortunately I only had to endure blood and saliva tests from some independent and very condescending Doctor. I didn't dare complain about how painful the blood tests were but let me say wherever that Doctor went to medical school he didn't pay attention on how to take blood samples.

Dad insisted on sending the samples to at least five different laboratories across the States. He wanted to be absolutely sure. I've never seen him act so hard-nosed about anything.

"I didn't Father Jasmine's baby." I told myself over and over again as I sat at the Dinner table eating nothing for three consecutive nights. "I did everything Dad told me to do."

Anyway under pressure of impending medical results Jasmine broke down during the third test. She confessed she was thirteen weeks pregnant, not seven and I wasn't the Father of the baby. She wasn't sure but she thought it was Randy Olsen, the Captain of the Football team. Asked why she had accused me she said between sobs she had suspected she was pregnant and decided the easiest way out was to involve herself with a Tracy son. The Tracy name meant money and she knew it. Number three Tracy son was na?ve and she knew that too. She said pointing the finger at me would have given her a secure financial future for herself and the baby.

It all fell into place for me then. No wonder the swift and complete seduction; no wonder she didn't want me to protect myself. I couldn't believe a girl could be so manipulative and I certainly learnt a very valuable lesson about what a woman can do to a man if he isn't careful. However she had come unstuck. She hadn't taken into account the tenacity of my Father.

Despite my relief at being proven innocent, Dad continued to fume. This whole situation had cost him a lot of money and a heck of a lot of stress. He stated in no uncertain terms I had better keep my trousers zipped up in the future if I knew what was good for me.

He didn't have to tell me twice. I suffered enough anxiety during that period to last me a lifetime.

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STARMAN

After a very traumatic Senior Year in High School Dad was both relieved and pleased when I was accepted into Harvard and commenced my studies in Laser and Communications.

I loved every moment of College and decided to accelerate my degree by taking additional subjects in the vacation periods. I really wanted a career in NASA. I wanted to experience the stars first hand as my Father had done before me. I hit the books and studied hard.

All the additional study meant I very rarely saw my family and I had to admit I missed everyone very much. I might have been the middle child and felt I counted for nothing but deep down inside I knew I was part of a warm and wonderful family who'd been though a lot over the years.

Grandma worried about me as usual and called me most days of the week to see if I was eating right. We talked about my studies and my astronomy passion. I told Grandma I was writing a book on the subject and she got herself all excited at what she called my "quiet unassuming talent."

Grandma still kept her eye on me even though I was a long way from home. Her telephone calls always started or ended with what became her very famous line, "I hope you're still keeping your hands to yourself John."

I'd always laugh nervously and say, "Grandma I don't have time to visit any gyms these days, I'm too busy."

She'd finish the warning with, "You should know you don't have to be in a gym to get yourself into trouble young man."

I wished sometimes she'd just come clean and tell me she knew about Jasmine and the paternity tests but I sure as hell wasn't going to ask her. I didn't even tell Scott about it and I had always told him everything.

I really missed my older brothers. Scott was now in Nevada and Virgil was in Denver.

Virgil called every now and then and we talked and joked together. I told him about my course. He told me about his. I said I spent my spare time writing and told him of my intention to publish an astronomy book. He said he spent his playing the piano at a local bar. He confided in me he had met a beautiful young girl named Katelyn. I said I didn't have time for women.

Scott and I talked often. Despite the fact he was following in Dad's footsteps by choosing a career in the Air Force after College, he followed Dad a little too closely in everything else too. He was my second Father and he couldn't help himself worryng.

"You doing OK Johnny?" he'd ask with genuine concern. "Do you need help with anything?"

I'd reply I was fine but it was reassuring to know he was there for me if I needed him.

As for my younger brothers; I really missed Gordon's constant smile and his stupid idiotic pranks but I'd be lying if I said I missed Alan. Mr. Big Shot was a freshman in High School now and from what Gordon was telling me he was making his presence well and truly felt with his brattish behaviour and continual aggravation of the Teaching Staff. Gordon said Alan had already been suspended once and the Principal had likened him to me. I was angry about that for days. What an insult. I'm a lot of things and I know I made a mistake with Jasmine but I will say this slowly, clearly and distinctly so there is never any doubt in your mind; "I am nothing... do you hear me... absolutely nothing whatsoever like my brother Alan."

As my second year in College progressed I must admit I forgot about what happened with Jasmine long enough to take an active interest in women again. However I did so with great trepidation and extreme care. I dated many girls in College, some in particular I really liked and four or five actually got to the stage where I was prepared to risk physical love again. When I did I made damn sure I was totally protected almost to the point of being ridiculous.

The words "Oh you're the billionaire's son." became a natural contraceptive as I refused to trust anyone who said it. At the height of a passionate encounter if a girl whispered to me I didn't need to protect myself and what I was wearing spoilt things, I became agitated and ended up spoiling things for both of us. My fear of paternity really ruined a heck of lot of pleasurable experiences I could have had during my College years let me tell you.

Those few who got past my barriers of self-preservation by not referring to me as Jeff Tracy's son and not complaining about my passion for protection then reached the toughest barrier of all.

My heart.

Only two girls ever got close to my heart and I couldn't bring myself to further my relationship with either of them. I couldn't say the words "I love you" no matter how deeply I felt. The last person I had trusted with my fragile emotion of love was Mom and she had left me as a devastated three year old to cope without her.

I started to wonder if I had some sort of emotional deficiency despite the fact I kept telling myself there was nothing wrong with me. After all I could hold a woman close, kiss her passionately, make love to her and do all the things a man did for a woman. I just couldn't form the final emotional attachment which allowed me to get close to one.

"Grandma's theory" came back into my mind and I wondered after twenty-one years if maybe she had been right after all. Something might have happened to Dad's genetic make-up on the moon and as result there was something badly wrong with me. I had been a difficult baby, a painful toddler, an emotional child, a traumatised teenager and now, a man who couldn't bring himself to do what was necessary to ensure he found himself a life-mate.

Needless to say no-one stays around for long with someone who can't relate to them properly. Both of my special relationships ended within a year of them beginning and this left me very confused and very, very unhappy.

I thought about attending counselling but in the end decided against it. Counsellors cost a lot of money and I was extremely mindful of wasting Dad's money after what I had put him through with Jasmine. The cost of me attending Harvard was astronomical enough without Dad paying someone to tell me what was already obvious. The loss of the woman who was the centre of my world all those years ago and the way I had been forced to deal with losing her had well and truly screwed up my emotions. I somehow knew if Mom wouldn't have died I would have been a different person. There would have been no Jasmine incident as Dad probably wouldn't have worked himself to half to death trying to forget Mom and hence never accrued the amount of wealth he did. Who knows how life would have panned out for our family if we still had our Mother. I often wonder about that.

All I know is I was feeling mighty low when I returned to New York for Christmas in the year I turned twenty. I decided to talk to my own no-nonsense Counsellor and she wouldn't cost Dad a cent.

Grandma.

Christmas was a disaster that year. I'd come home feeling lower than a cut snake and moped around the house barely talking to anyone. Virgil came home devastated about some stupid theatrical performance he'd offended Dad with and hardly said a word either. Dad wasn't even talking to Virgil until Christmas Eve when Grandma forced the two of them to make peace for the sake of everyone else.

Virgil added to the stress by refusing to play the piano on Christmas Day, saying he'd given it up because it offended Dad. As for his majesty, the whinging baby brother, it was well and truly on as far as he and Dad were concerned. Dad had informed him he would be going to College in Colorado the following year and Alan was digging his heels in and saying there was no way in hell he was going to College let alone in Colorado. They argued all Christmas day before Dad decided he'd had enough of the little upstart and put him in his place. Alan was headed for Colorado and that was that.

The only sane ones in the house were Scott on vacation from the Air Force and Gordon who was on a brief leave of absence from WASP. Even Gordon came home feeling uneasy about what Dad would have to say to him. We all knew Dad didn't approve of his career choice especially as he had turned his back on College in the same way Alan was attempting to do. But Dad had his hands full with the brat's performance about having to go to College so he didn't have time to dwell on what Gordon was doing much to his relief.



As for me, I sought out the quiet solace of my Grandma. If ever I needed her love and reassurance it was now. I found it a few days after Christmas when I inadvertently stumbled upon her sitting alone in front of the downstairs fireplace in the early hours of the morning. I had come downstairs to fetch a glass of water, unable to sleep. The lounge room was deathly quiet and there was no light in the room other than the fire burning down low. I walked over to stoke it up on my way back through from the kitchen when her voice sounded behind me.

"Can't you sleep sweetie?" she asked quietly watching me nearly jump out of my skin in fright.

"Grandma!" I exclaimed. "You scared me half to death! What are you doing up?"

She looked at me and sipped her cognac.

"The same reason as you no doubt. Can't sleep with all the happenings around here." she said in a small tired voice. She patted the comfortable space beside her on the couch. "Come sit with me for a bit Johnny. I'd appreciate the company."

I nodded and sat down beside her, placing my glass on the antique table in front of us. We both stared into the fire.

"You're unhappy about something aren't you John?" she asked quietly without looking at me.

I was surprised she asked me that. Was I really that transparent? Was my unhappiness so noticeable? Dad and Scott hadn't picked up there was anything wrong. But I guessed this was Grandma and I'd long since given up trying to figure out how Grandma sensed things. It was also pointless trying to lie to her and besides I really needed to confide in someone.

"Yes Grandma," I admitted quietly. "I've got a few things on my mind."

She waited expectantly for me to continue and when I didn't she put down her glass and took off her glasses.

"Darling, you know you can tell Grandma anything don't you?"

I nodded silently.

"Anything." she reiterated firmly.

When I still didn't say anything she patted my hand.

"Lord knows you're like your Father." she began. "You don't look like him but you sure as hell are a young Jeff Tracy in the making."

I looked at her with eyes that didn't believe a word she said. Me like Dad? Not very likely! I had this picture in my head of what Dad would have been like at my age and the picture was that of a confident, capable young man who related well to everyone.

"Your Daddy never said much to anyone as a youngster." she said sensing my disbelief. "He kept pretty much to himself after finishing High School. Yep…worked the farm with his Father barely saying two words from sunup to sundown seven days a week. Shy around girls too. Your grandfather used to think there was something wrong with him. But you know Johnny despite everything I never had any doubt about him. I always said one day he would be a leader. Took him until he got into the Air Force and found his feet but I was right. He was born to lead and look at him now."

I smiled wanly and lowered my eyes but as I did Grandma continued.

"Then NASA found him and there wasn't any turning back for that boy. Not many young men can be a Major at twenty five years of age, walk on the moon at thirty, and be a millionaire at thirty one. You're heading that way too son and I know your Father is very mindful of your talent and he's making sure he's pushing all the right buttons to make sure you get the chance to do it."

"Grandma, "I began. "It's not my career…it's…"

"And as for his love for your momma." she interrupted. "Completely turned his Tracy heart inside out and back to front that girl. Never seen a man fall for a woman quite so bad as he did. Changed him overnight. Couldn't even look at a girl once. All of a sudden he's got five strapping young sons around him. Funny how fate changes things John."

She picked up her glass.

"Now tell me child. What's on your mind?" she asked. "You've been mighty quiet since arriving back here from College."

"Grandma " I began." Do you think … well... do you think there's something not quite right with me?" I asked with trepidation.

I could see her mind ticking over and imagined she was thinking about her "theory" again.

"No I think you're all there." she said after a long while. "Why John, do you know something I don't about yourself?"

I sighed loudly and it all tumbled out of me, every last painful detail of it; my difficulties in relating, the break-down of my close relationships, my inability to love a woman with all of my heart."

Throughout my tirade she listened quietly and when I had finished she said matter of factly.

"John, like your Daddy you will find things will change when you eventually meet the woman who will be your wife. This may sound silly to you sweetie but when your mother put the love in your Daddy's heart, the passion for her began to burn in his eyes. She brought out the real man in him John. He was able to love her openly and I know this sounds dreadful coming from your Grandma but physical love between a man and a woman when they are in love is a truly wonderful thing. Your wife will do that for you too. Give yourself time to find her sweetie. Trust me, there's nothing wrong with you son. You are only twenty years old. Your Daddy didn't find your momma until he was twenty-four and heck more experienced in life than you. "

I nodded. I guessed she was right.

"But you mind yourself in the meantime." she frowned in mock disapproval. "When that little girl finds you make sure you're going to be worth finding."

I looked at her and smiled; my first truly happy smile in a long time. I kissed her forehead and she embraced me tenderly in front of the fire.

"I'll be worth finding Grandma. Thank you for the advice." I whispered.

"You're welcome John." she replied.

As I stood up to return to my room she called after me in the darkness.

"John."

I turned back.

"Yes ma'am."

"When you do find that special little girl, remember what happened to your momma won't you? Take nothing for granted son."

I nodded silently but didn't need that piece of advice. I had never forgotten what had happened to mother.

I returned to Harvard and my studies and graduated with first class honours after only three years in College. Dad's chest swelled with pride at my graduation and I think it is the first and only time in my life I ever recall Dad saying he was proud of me. Dad saying that meant more to me than anything else in the world. I felt like John Glenn Tracy counted in the Tracy family instead of simply being the middle child, quietly following the brilliance of Scott and Virgil and reluctantly leading the rabble known as Gordon and Alan.

The Chancellor at Harvard took the time to speak with me personally after my graduation ceremony. He congratulated me in front of Dad on the books published under my name in my final year, my brilliant work in astronomy and my commitment to excellence in the faculty. He told me if I ever wished to return to Harvard as a Lecturer I would be very welcome. My graduation day, a few months after my twenty first birthday ,was the happiest day of my life.

With such a glowing academic record and Dad's word in the right ears in NASA, I soon commenced my career as an Astronaut. I was following in Dad's ultimate footsteps. I excelled in my training and before long I experienced my first flight into space. I worked in NASA for almost three years and whilst I was there heard some mighty interesting perceptions about where my Father would have ended up if he hadn't resigned when he did to go into business. Many said he would have ended up heading the whole United States Space Programme he had been so talented. What a shame he'd left NASA as a young man they all said. They touted me as having the same potential as my Father which shocked but nevertheless pleased me greatly. I decided I would prove to my Father I could be every bit as good, if not better than he was.

Then I got the call.....

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INTERNATIONAL RESCUE

Words cannot describe how a man feels when he has finally found himself a direction and purpose in his life after years of uncertainty and someone he loves comes along and wants him to change things.

The day Dad called me and told me of his plans for International Rescue I must admit you could have hit me on the head with a hammer and got a better reaction. This whole thing had cost Dad billions of dollars to set up and as with everything Dad did, it was planned down to the last detail. He'd missed one important detail however; the willingness of his sons to man it for him. Not all his sons I might say.

Just me.

I listened in silence as he told me Scott would be leaving his high ranking position in the Air Force to take on the role of Chief Pilot. He added my two youngest brothers had agreed to come on board as well. Yeah right Dad as if they'd have a say in it anyway. He had yet to talk to Virgil. He was asking me to resign from NASA and be one of his Astronauts. The other? None other than my least favourite brother Alan. Dad said Alan had shown excellent potential and with maturity and experience would eventually be every bit as good as I was. I felt like Dad had slapped my face with that news. What an insult. Basic training, no brains, impetuous as hell and a brat into the bargain. No way was I being involved in that deal. I was happy in NASA. I counted here as Major John Tracy. Who would I be if I resigned? Nobody except Mr. John Glenn Tracy, middle son of billionaire businessman Jefferson Tracy. A nobody. The other Astronaut.

I told Dad I wasn't interested and if nothing else I ever did floored him, that did. His silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Then he railed at me. I listened without a word.

At twenty four years of age, I had finally shaken off my dreadful childhood and had become a man in my own right. Dad told me I owed him. I knew I did. He pointed out if he hadn't saved my ass with Jasmine Andrews I'd never have made it to Harvard let alone NASA. I knew that too. He asked me where my sense of family was. I replied I needed a sense of myself. I said no again.

He hung up on me.

I waited for another call but another call didn't come. Not from Dad anyway. It didn't even come from Grandma. It came from my brother Virgil.

Words can't describe the extent and intimacy of the conversation I had with my older brother that day.

Virgil confided in me Dad had asked him to join International Rescue last. Virgil said he knew someone had to be last but he felt it was because he looked so much like Mom and Dad still couldn't deal with it. He said it was obvious who was the least favourite son. I laughed bitterly and said if he was the least favourite, he'd just been superseded. I had taken his place with my refusal to co-operate..

I confided in Virgil that I liked my life in NASA and told him I wanted to work towards a high ranking position. I said I knew I could get there with hard work. He said I had always worked hard and most likely would get there as with everything else I did. He confided in me how unhappy he was as a pilot and said how desperately he wanted to pursue the arts. He said he only became a pilot to please Dad and in doing so had lost Katelyn. The price he had paid for Dad's approval was high and like me, he still didn't have it despite his sacrifices.

"At least you had Katelyn for a time." I said bitterly. "I've never managed to find anyone. And I never will if I work for Dad."

Virgil said to me despite everything, Dad's vision was worthwhile in his thinking and he had accepted his invitation to join up. It gave him the chance to pursue the Arts again in his spare time. He asked me as his brother to reconsider.

"Johnny," he began. "I still remember the night you climbed into bed with me and we listened to the rain on the roof together. I was crying so badly. Do you remember that?"

I replied yes I did. It was the night Dad explained to me very clearly our mother was never coming back. It was the night he himself had horrified me with thoughts that Mom would end up as nothing but bones.

"It was also the night you held me when our Father wouldn't." he said. "I'll never forget that."

"I should have been holding you." he added after a painful silence.

"Johnny. I need you by my side if I'm to do this for Dad." he pleaded.

I bit my lip and said I would think about it.

"It's all for Mom." he added quietly. "Dad never said it in as many words but I know he's doing it for her."

When I didn't reply he continued. "John. I know you loved momma as much as I did. If you won't do it for me at least do it for her."

That was the clincher. Yes I had loved my mother as much as Virgil. No-one had loved my Mother more than I had, not even my Father. I loved her completely, utterly and totally. She was the centre of my world.

I ended up agreeing to join. Dad thought my change of heart was due to his cool approach to my refusal. I've never told him I only joined International Rescue for Mom's sake and Virgil's.

I resigned from NASA telling my Superiors I was leaving to work for my Father.

Those in high rank compared me to my Father. Hard-working and talented, but prepared to turn his back on NASA and a potentially distinguished career to follow his dreams.

Funny they compared me to Dad.Grandma said I was like Dad that night in front of the fire.

The only difference between Dad and me is that I left NASA to follow his dream...not my own.

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Well the pool game is over and Grandma's got me right where she wants me. I'm backed into a corner on the balcony with nowhere to go. I swallow my martini whole and pray for another.

"John Glenn Tracy." she begins sounding decidedly miffed. "What have you got to say for yourself about all this then?"

I bite both lips and try to keep a straight face. I think I'll go straight to excuse number two.

"Grandma you know I enjoy a good party." I begin defensively. "I don't get many up in Thunderbird Five. You can't blame me for keeping a secret that's in my own best interests."

"Don't you give me any of your hogwash." she warns in her no-nonsense southern tone. "And don't look at me with those blonde good looks of yours either thinking you'll charm your way out of my bad books."

I put down my glass and wrap my arms around her. I look lovingly into her eyes.

"How can I be in your bad books Grandma." I say squeezing her tightly and planting a kiss on the top of her head. "You don't see me enough for that."

"I see you often enough to know I still have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself." she scolds. "Let go of me John Tracy, you're crushing the living daylights out of me."

I release her and kiss her cheek.

"I'm sorry Grandma. I forgot you're seventy-five now."

She looks at me and frowns.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean young man?"

I grin mischievously at her. I know she's always hated my sarcasm.

"It means Josephine Tracy," I say brazenly, "that you're getting on in life and it's about time you stopped looking after me and I started looking after you."

She rolls her eyes.

"You look after me?" she exclaims. "That'd be a turn up for the books. You'll still be needing me to give you advice and bail you out of trouble when I'm up in that sky with your Grandfather young man. Especially if that's the best excuse you can come up with for not spilling the beans about this party."

She's trying to stay light hearted but she knows she's started me thinking again after talking about Grandpa in the sky. Her gaze follows mine as it lifts skywards. She watches my eyes sweep the heavens.

"You needn't look to your mother or Grandpa for help." she berates me quietly. "They're up there and you're down here unless you are still trying to work that side of things out after twenty one years."

I don't say anything as I lean forward to allow my hands to rest on the railings of the balcony. My yes gaze longingly and lovingly at the evening star. Grandma stands besides me and rests her hand on mine as iftrying to give me some sort of support.

It doesn't take much to get me thinking about Mother.

I still miss her and on the balcony next to Grandma it's hard not to dwell on what life would might been like if she hadn't left us to cope alone all those years ago.

I think Scott would have still joined the Air Force. He's Dad to the core and Mom knew that. Scott more than likely would have outshined Dad if she had stayed around to see him grow. He loved showing off to her.

Gordon would have turned out better too. Mom wouldn't have tolerated his jokes and nonsense in the first place. But then again she did have mischievous streak herself. Maybe it would have been worse around here if Gordon would have found an ally in Mom. She might have actually helped him in his practical jokes.

Alan definitely wouldn't be the pain in the ass that he is. She would have taken him by the ear and put him in his place well and truly from the beginning. God I wish that would have been how life turned out.

Virgil? Well I can say right now Virgil would never have gone to College in Denver if Mom would have had anything to do with it. As for him turning his back on his talents and becoming a pilot; she wouldn't have tolerated that either. She'd have argued with Dad right down to the wire about leaving Virgil's talents untapped. Virgil could have been anything if Mom hadn't have died; an Artist, a concert pianist, an Actor.

He is the most gifted of us all and he's wasted as a Pilot.

Me?

I've given it a lot of thought.

In many ways I think the death of my mother was probably the makings of me. I had to learn to cope without her and in doing so I learned to love the stars. It's made me the man I am.

The Starman.

International Rescue's Astronaut.

The only real Astronaut. Cop that in your eye Alan!

I am that man purely because Lucille Tracy left me alone as a frightened little three year old to cope in this world without her. Grandma told me there was a reason for everything in this life, even Mom's death. I guess the reason was there wasn't room for two stars to shine in the Tracy family. One of us had to be content to watch the other from the heavens and I know my mother is the one who had to stand back and watch me make my way through life's journey long before she got to finish her own.

"Momma,' I whisper, forgetting that Grandma is standing next to me. "I miss you."

I feel Grandma's hand tighten on mine and I realise she has heard me.

I redden.

Our eyes meet but she smiles in understanding. I have Mom's handkerchief tucked away where no-one can see it and even though I miss her, she knows I still have that.

No further words are said.

"Do want to know something Grandma." I say as my eyes look back towards the sky.

"What's dear?" she asks.

"Grandpa finally made it to heaven tonight." I reply.

She looks at me inquisitively.

"How's that John?" she enquires.

I wrap my arm around her as we look up in the darkness together.

"I noticed during the pool game that Grandpa's star had finally burned out. I didn't know whether to tell you. I guess that means Grandpa felt comfortable leaving us after all these years."

She does not look at me but Josephine Tracy's own eyes look longingly at the sky. I see a glimmer of a tear as we hold each other. Her face has a look of love and longing I have never seen before. I guess she's thinking about her love for Grandpa, the man who gave her a ring on Thanksgiving saying she was the thing he was most thankful for.

Sorry Grandpa. I never got to know you but I can honestly say I'm more thankful for Grandma than you ever were.

"I guess your Grandpa must be trying to tell me something then young John." she whispers after a while.

My own eyes well with tears. I know what she is going to say.

"He's telling me it will soon be my time to come home and he's making room for me."

I hold her tighter. I cannot imagine life without my Grandma and I don't want to even think about it.

"You won't ever die Grandma. You're way too wicked to go to heaven." I grin and twist her nose teasingly. "They wouldn't let a woman like you in the gate."

Oh dear! Shouldn't a man have said that?

She's just stood up to her full height of 5 foot two inches and given me a hearty slap to my rear end.

"Ow!" I exclaim letting her go immediately and frowning. "What's that for Grandma?"

"I've told you enough times in your life to keep things to yourself young man. If you think I'm ever going to watch over you from the sky after making a comment like that one, you're mighty mistaken. " she begins

Uh oh. Here's comes the reality check, right on cue. I grin at her in amusement as she berates me.

"… And another thing John Glenn Tracy if you think I don't know what you and Jasmine Andrews got up to in that gym and why you were suspended from High school, you're mistaken about that too. I know exactly what went on between the two of you and all the sneaking around you and your Father did about those paternity tests and I'm one mighty disgruntled Grandmother about the whole thing. You hear me? "

My grin fades.

After all this time she's let the cat out of the bag. She's known about what happened all along. I don't know what to say to defend myself so I say the only other thing a Grandson can say at a time like this.

"Grandma...I really really love you."

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Author's Note. - Hope you enjoyed this rendition of John.

NEXT CHAPTER - FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONTROL - PART FOUR - GOING DOWN FOR THE THIRD TIME - GORDON - THE AQUANAUT.

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