Author's Note – Nice to be back writing this little story. Thanks to those people who have indicated they want it to continue. Yours …mcj
FENCES AND FAMILIES
STORY TWO
CHAPTER ONE – THE DESIRE TO BREAK FREE
Picture a Fence – "A barrier to hold within"
Picture a Family – "A group of related individuals"
Wichita seemed chaotic to him, and even though he craved to experience the city way of life more than anything else in the world, he was going to be mighty glad today when he was heading out of town.
Cars crawled down the busy main streets, stopping, starting and vying for parking spaces. The odd taxi weaved in and out of the cars, only adding to the bedlam. The bus had reached a complete standstill and its passengers had started to disembark in disgust. The impatient blasting of car horns protesting at their meandering only made the frustration worse.
Tempers were flaring higher than the temperature.
In the centre of the mayhem, the old pick-up truck idled patiently in the traffic.
"Looks like the whole population's come out today," he commented, reaching forward to turn down the radio, "I don't think I've ever seen this many people in the one place at the same time Momma."
"Wichita's certainly been different place since the boom dear," she replied, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. She sighed and wound down the window, shifting uncomfortably in the seat when her action failed to produce even the slightest hint of a breeze.
He nodded at her with understanding. "Sure is hot in here hey?" he sympathised.
"You got that right," she concurred as the beads of perspiration began to gather again on her forehead. "Times like these I wish I'd tried harder to convince your Father he needed air-conditioning."
The minutes laboured on and it was becoming clear the middle-aged Driver in the car behind them was fast losing patience with everyone. He revved the engine of his vehicle loudly and inched closer and closer to the fender of the truck. When the truck didn't move forward, he banged the steering wheel angrily with both hands, sounded his horn and swore.
"Move your rusty ass," he yelled, leaning out the window and cursing at the top of his lungs. "You shouldn't be drivin' a vehicle in the first place if you don't know how to handle yourself."
She frowned and turned around in her seat to give the Driver a frosty glare.
"Rude individual," she heard herself reply. "Someone oughtta get in that car with you right now and teach you how to mind your manners."
The revving stopped as the truck moved slowly forward.
"I can never figure out why everyone in these parts has to always be so God-damned anxious," she grumbled, turning back around and shaking her head in disgust. "Anyone would think the world was ending in Wichita and soon too the way some people fuss and carry on."
After a few minutes she craned her neck and tried to see what was going on up the street.
"Damned annoying though." she muttered. "I got a lot of things I need to do today."
Through her usually ordered mind tumbled the tasks she wanted to accomplish before the sun set down over Kansas ... the laundry ... the mending ... and if she didn't find time to give that stinking old dog of Grant's a bath she swore the flies would carry him away.
Her unique sense of humour surfaced and she found herself smiling from ear to ear at the thought of Grant's best friend, "Marty the Mongrel" being carried across the wheat fields by a swarm of buzzing flies.
The smile was short lived.
None of it was going to get done today if this traffic didn't move on soon and Grant, who was relentless in squeezing in as much as he possibly could in the space of a single day, wasn't going to be too happy with her if it didn't. He was unhappy enough Marvin Landers had invited her to come to Wichita in the first place without seeing all the usual chores slide because he had finally agreed she could go.
How could she forget those conversations.
Grant had made such a fuss when "Doc Landers" as he was now affectionately known, asked her to come along to the opening of his brand new medical center in Wichita. To be known as "Josie's Solution", he made no secret of the fact he'd named it after her. He said it was in recognition of her forcefulness all those years ago in getting him to see the light and continue his education. Grant said he was only doing it to worm his way back into her affections. Doctor Landers had said without her he'd still be working as a general hand in the market. Grant said that was a load of high tailed hogwash. He didn't trust Marvin Landers any more than he did back when the two of them were dating andhe wasn't changing his mind.
It had been so hard not to laugh and accuse Grant Tracy of being jealous. Twenty years on, he still couldn't handle the fact that she and Marvin Landers had been "just two good friends".
With that she exhaled loudly and folded her arms.
She didn't know how Marvin Landers or anyone else lived or practiced here in Wichita. The heat was worse than anything she'd ever experienced. Dear God, how much longer were they going to wait in this slow moving line?
Her eyebrows drew together in a contemplative frown as she turn to watch her eighteen year son sitting calmly at the wheel of his Father's truck. Nothing seemed to bother Jeff. He was such a patient young man.
"You ever sat back and wondered what the hell the person up the front of one these things is actually doing with himself Jeff?"
Jeff Tracy felt the corners of his mouth twitch as he tried his utmost to keep a straight face. By the irritation in his Mother's tone he knew it wouldn't be much longer before she cracked. She had already pursed her lips together and narrowed her eyes; not to mention the arms he'd watched her fold previously. None of it was a good sign in his experience.
"Can't say as I actually have Mom," came his careful but amused response."Guess they must be doing something."
She wiped the perspiration from her face again as her intolerance of the situation escalated.
"Probably some mindless fool dreaming about money or where to spend his fancy vacation." she grumbled. "I swear folks around here have no understanding of what we working people have to do."
She paused and added forcefully.
"Or the limited time we have to do it in."
Jeff glanced in the direction of the passenger's seat. It wasn't only her arms that were folded now. Her fingers were tapping too.
"Be fair now Mom." he warned is his pleasantly deep voice. "For all you know, the person up the front might have had the misfortune to have his car break down or something."
The revving of the engines started up again.
The tapping of the fingers escalated as she heard it.
"Mmmmm … misfortune … I'll give whoever it is misfortune all right."
He suddenly found himself holding his breath. His mother's mumble of disapproval always preceded an explosion and if it did, he knew more than anyone who was about to be in the firing line.
"Oh boy Mister" he breathed in dismay, looking through the mirror at the intolerant man behind him. "If you know what's good for you, please don't keep on at me with that horn."
"What are you doing son?" she demanded, noticing the silent movement of his lips. "You look like you're over there praying for a miracle to occur."
He reddened and shook his head. He certainly hoped she hadn't heard him.
"No ma'am" he said, feeling a little foolish. "Come to think of it though, maybe praying isn't such a bad idea."
Her eyes narrowed again as he gave her a cheeky, broad smile.
"You stop all your sarcasm and joking around right this minute young man. You know your Daddy told us in no uncertain terms that we're to go to this thing for Doc Landers, stay for the least amount of time possible and then have the timber for that fence back to the farm no later than mid-afternoon."
Then she made her point.
"And you also know what he's gonna have to say to both of us if it isn't."
Jeff nodded as he remembered the blunt and what terse instructions he'd received from his Father earlier that morning when he was handed the keys to the truck. He wasn't to waste time wandering around Wichita, unlike the last time he'd been asked to go there on an errand. He was to drive the three hours, go straight to the lumber yard, load up the material, and return his Mother home to him safely before she got herself into trouble.
But he hadn't factored in the possibility of the truck being involved in a traffic jam.
"Relax Momma." he shrugged, seemingly unworried about the delay. "Dad'll understand if we're a little late."
Josephine's expressive eyes widened.
"Oh is that what you think is it?" she queried, picturing a disapproving Grant pacing about in front of the farmhouse, hammer in hand, and impatiently looking at his watch. "Let me tell you right now Jefferson Tracy, your Daddy wants to start on that fence today and you oughtta know by now that when Daddy says he's doing something today ... he means he's doing it today."
It was now Jeff's turn to widen his eyes.
"Oh Momma ... no wonder you can never figure why everyone has to be so God-damned anxious," he joked, mimicking her earlier words. "You're too busy worrying about what Daddy's gonna say if you get home too late from your date with Doc Landers."
His jovial insolence quickly earned him a sharp and hearty slap on the arm.
"That's enough of your disrespect young man." she chided him. "Contrary to how he's been carrying on, Daddy's not the least bit worried about me seeing Doctor Landers again. He's more likely to start rantin' and ravin' about the timber for the fence being late than about anything to do with him."
With that, his smile soon changed to resignation. All jokes aside, his Father had been doing a lot of ranting lately, and most of it, he was sorry to say, had been directly aimed at him.
"Dad sure is touchy about everything at the moment." he commented glumly. "Not just about you and Mr. Landers."
Josephine frowned too. Jefferson was certainly right about that. Grant had been nothing short of insufferable for the past six weeks. He was acting so unlike himself lately, it was past the point of being painful. He seemed to find fault with everything, particularly everything Jefferson said and did. He admonished him over the slightest and most menial things. To make matters worse, he'd recently taken to storming off mid-sentence; sitting on the porch for hours afterwards, unwilling to converse with anybody.
"Amen to that statement." she agreed, picturing his latest explosion over Supper. "I'm starting to think your Daddy might be in serious need of a personality transplant or somethin'."
Jeff tried to put his Mother's observations out of his mind by concentrating on the traffic. He knew his Father didn't really mean to snap but irrespective, life on the Tracy farm lately had been just one unhappy incident after another.
Last week, his Father had given up on the rains coming and decided to plough in the back fields for yet another year. They'd never make a paying crop of the small amount still left. It was better to see it go.
Watching twelve months of back-breaking work disappear behind the wheels of a tractor was hard enough to bear, but after a day of intense heat and misery, his Father had rounded on him in aggravation and accused him of not doing a thorough job.
He'd tried to make up for things the next day by carefully baling what was left of the failed crop. His Father's reaction to that hadn't been any better than the ploughing. The bales weren't uniform enough ... he didn't stack them high enough ... the whole thing had taken him too long.
"What the hell's the matter with you at the moment Jefferson?" his Father had retorted. "You're supposed to be learning how to farm the land from me so you can make a decent living for yourself. How in the blazes can I teach you anything if you don't the hell want to learn?"
"Dad it's not that …" he had begun and then stopped himself abruptly before he said too much. For nearly a whole year he had shown nothing but the utmost respect for his Father's wishes by trying to embrace his love of what had been the lifeblood of the Tracy family for generations.
Farming.
And hating it.
He hated ploughing fields under the burning sun until his face was raw with sunburn and his shirt was drenched in sweat. He hated the thought of having to live at the mercy of the seasons every single day of the year. Above all he hated not being in College where he could be achieving the academic qualifications he needed to do something so much better with his life.
But he couldn't tell his Father that. At the moment, courtesy of his jealousy of Marvin Landers, his Father was even less tolerant of anyone who had any sort of College qualification.
"I'm sorry Sir." was all he could bring himself to say.
Sitting at the wheel of the truck, he heaved a huge sigh at the thought of his unhappy situation.
"Dad's really worried about things going wrong for us again this year Mom," he said, preparing to defend his Father. "The season didn't shape up any better than the last one I'm afraid."
Josephine's agreement was accompanied by a firm and thoughtful nodding of her head.
"Well that's true and your Father's got every reason to be worried about the seasons I suppose." she agreed. "But takin' it out on everyone and anyone who even looks sideways at him isn't gonna make it rain Jeff."
She looked up at the burning blue haze above them and shook her head.
"Or stop Doc Landers from calling."
Josephine couldn't help but grow sad when he failed to reply. He was such a polite, down-to-earth young man who never complained or had a bad thing to say about anyone, let alone his Father. She wished he didn't have to bear the brunt of Grant's jealousy and frustration. It wasn't his fault the rains weren't falling or Marvin Landers had done well for himself in the world.
"Daddy's not angry at you honey." she said gently, leaning over to squeeze his hand with hers. "He's just angry at his maker right now and having trouble trying to find the words to express himself."
Jeff accepted the reassurance gratefully.
"I know Mom. But something tells me he won't have any trouble expressing himself when I start trying to talk to him again about College."
Silence fell between them. Tonight, after returning from home from Wichita and starting work on the new fence, they had both agreed he should try to broach the subject of his Engineering degree again. Grant Tracy was always at his most amiable when he felt he was achieving something and replacing the front fence in front of the farmhouse had been high on his priority list for months.
"Oh Daddy'll express himself on College subject all right." she agreed with a familiar rolling of her eyes."That I can guarantee."
She saw the worry in his face and instantly regretted her pathetic attempt to joke.
"He'll let you go this time Jeff. " she assured him. "Daddy's a good man and he'd give you the opportunity to take on the whole damn world if he could."
"Sure hope so momma." Jeff shrugged, still only half believing her. "I've got to let Kansas State know if I'm taking the College place no later than one week's time from tomorrow."
Her back stiffened and jaw clenched as yet another blast from the car behind them almost deafened them both.
"Well the way it's going at the moment we'll still be sitting here one week from tomorrow Jefferson. And ..." she added grabbing the handle on the door of the truck and wrenching open the door. "when it comes to this ass of a man who somehow professes to be a Gentleman, I'm gonna have absolutely no trouble finding the words to expressmyself right now."
Josephine Tracy didn't get the opportunity to say her piece to the ignorant man in the car.
The screeching of brakes, the sickening crunch of metal and the sound of an eighteen year old's panic was all that echoed in her ears as their only form of transportation ploughed headlong into the rear of the car in front of them.
And she was plunged into unwelcome darkness.
It hadn't been his fault, the Police Officer kept trying to tell him. The Driver in the car behind them had admitted to reckless driving and no other charges would be laid.
"But then again son ..." the short balding man with the officious voice continued. "It stands to reason of course, you shouldn't have been driving so close to the rear of the other car."
Jeff swallowed the lump in his throat as the Officer handed back his license. He'd never had to be interviewed by the law before and he hadn't enjoyed the experience. Not only that, it was obvious he wouldn't be going anywhere in his Father's truck in too much of a hurry either. The truck would need repairs to the radiator before it would be capable of making the journey back to Chase County. Repairs took time and repairs cost money. There was no way he'd be bringing home the timber for the new fence now.
He swallowed again.
His Father was already furious enough about the accident without being told that too.
After being informed his precious Josephine had been taken by ambulance to the hospital, Grant Tracy was on his way to Wichita. Jeff Tracy swallowed a third time. He could only begin to imagine what was going to be said to him when he got there.
He watched in trepidation as the second of the two tow trucks arrived on the scene and began to hook up the truck.
"You in a position to pay cash for this son?" the driver's assistant demanded, striding forward with authority and brandishing a wad of paper. "We don't take no cheques in this business."
Jeff reached into his wallet and thumbed the money his Father had given him for the fence. It was hard not to feel sick at the thought of having to use it.
"Yes Sir." he choked, "I got the cash."
"OK then." the assistant nodded. "You got yourself a deal. Sign here please."
Once the paperwork was finished and the truck disappeared from view, he looked about his surroundings and tried not to feel awkward. He didn't know which way to go to find the hospital where his Mother had been taken. It took an approach to several pedestrians before he found one who was prepared to give him directions.
"You're not from around these parts are you?" the pleasant, casually dressed man observed.
Jeff Tracy looked puzzled, wondering exactly what he meant.
"Sunburnt you see." the man elaborated with a friendly indication of his head. "Looks to me like you're a farmer."
Jeff reddened. No-one had ever been referred to him as a Farmer before. As far as he was concerned it was his Father who was the Farmer, not him. The observations of a complete stranger had starkly pointed out his reality. Whether he liked the inference or not, a Farmer was what he was.
"Yes Sir I suppose I am." he admitted with a shrug.
The man smiled and said he'd thought as much. If his sunburn didn't give him away, his big strong shoulders certainly did... that and the fact he didn't appear comfortable standing alone on a sidewalk in Wichita.
"I'm very sorry to hear about the injuries to your Mother son." he replied when Jeff went on to explain. "Ever since the boom in Wichita last year, it's been more than obvious to everyone the population's outgrown the facilities."
"People aren't exactly patient when getting from A to B around here either." he observed watching another near miss in the traffic close by.
"No Sir." Jeff agreed, thoughts of the accident tumbling in a kind of slow motion from one end of his head to the other. "Guess I'm pretty lucky Momma escaped with only a broken arm and more than her fair share of bruising."
The mention of his Mother gave him an urgent reminder that he needed to get to the hospital. He knew he'd better be there when his disgruntled Father arrived. The man in front of him smiled again, sensing his concern, and offered to give him a ride.
Jeff Tracy gratefully accepted the kindness of the friendly, middle-aged stranger. There was something about his quiet confidence he liked and it was hard not to be captivated when the twenty minute journey turned out to be an inspiring diversion from his mundane world of Kansas wheat fields and droughts.
He was Captain Raymond Jones of the United States Air Force. Well at least that was who he used to be until three years ago when he retired from the military and made his way to Wichita. Wichita was where the money was, even for a well worn old Air Force pilot with no other qualifications. These days he made his living in the charter business and was happy to call Wichita home.
Jeff's eyes grew round.
"You were a Captain in the Air Force Sir?" he breathed in admiration. "That must been just wonderful."
Sensing the young man was genuinely interested in what he had to say Raymond Jones smiled and went on to elaborate. Yes he had been a Captain in the Air Force and had flown more than his fair share of fighter jets. He had also been selected to fly in the squadron of Red Flag, the elite group of the best pilots the Air Force had to offer.
"Wow Sir …" Jeff gazed at him in awe. "You really must have been good."
Ray happily enjoyed the opportunity to relive his special memories. He didn't know about being good but he had thoroughly enjoyed his time in the Air Force that was for sure… twenty four years of it had to be a testimony to that.
But above all he'd loved every single minute he'd spent flying in the squadron of Red Flag.
"Nothing on this earth is more exhilarating than flying in the centre of a top notch squadron son." he told the fascinated Jeff Tracy. "It awakens every sense a man has."
He winked.
"Not too many things can do that let me assure you."
Jeff failed to pick up on the pointed inference and continued to listen to him enthralled. Ray Jones made flying sound so wonderful. Before long the prism where he quietly hid his enthusiasm for flight from his Father slowly began to open up and by the time they reached the hospital he had found the courage to not only admit to his own dream of wanting to fly but also to flying the fastest jets in the world.
"I look up at the planes which fly over our farm Mr. Jones and every time I see one all I want to do is be up there too. Seeing what the Pilot sees … feeling the sensations of surge and speed... holding your life in your very own hands... "
Jeff shrugged.
"Guess all that sounds pretty foolish to you Mr Jones, I mean, coming from someone who's never even taken a plane ride."
Ray Jones shook his head. No it wasn't foolish. In fact, flying aircraft was exactly how he was imagining it to be. But he still preferred the rush of the fighter jets. Fighter jets really taught a man how to fly. There was nothing like the dog-fights he had experienced up there in mid-air … taking the risks ... flying with one aim only ... and that was to take the other guy out. The rush from something like that could ever be described. You had to live the experience.
A young Jefferson Tracy nodded as the car pulled into the kerb and Raymond Jones said his final goodbyes. He didn't know what but Raymond Jones had suddenly stirred something that had long burned within him.
He saw himself in the skies.
In an Air Force fighter jet.
He was going to fly.
Author's clarification - Those who don't know who Marvin Landers is need to refer to the pages of Story One where, much to Grant Tracy's dismay, he carried a torch for the beautiful Josephene Brown.