The House

by Babylon Candle

This is the concluding book in the trilogy started by Nicholas Sparks in The Notebook, continued in The Wedding and ends here in the House.

4. Chapter 4

3

Time is quick

when you are in the arms

of a loved one.

No matter what anyone said, David was an accident, an oops. First Jane, two years later Jeff came and then, two more years, David arrived. Three babies too close together for Allie to get back to full health. Allie loved Davie with all her heart despite his club foot and port wine stain on his forehead and left cheek.

The club foot and port-wine stain made David different from the start. The club foot could be treated while there was nothing that could be done about the birthmark. Treatment for the club foot started within weeks of birth using the Ponseti method. Fortunately David never remembered this early setback. Once corrected Davis was off with the best of them.

David arrived early in the year 1954 which was a challenging time for the Calhoun family. Allie's paintings were doing well; locally that is, but she had not broken into the big time. Noah and Allie were hoping their second exhibition in NY, NY would do the trick.

Ever since Noah and Allie met in the summer of 1932 things have never ran smoothly. Somehow life is like that. For Noah and Allie it started that summer then they had to part. The letters Noah sent to Allie were hijacked so Allie moved on with life. Then came Lon. Lon Hammond was more than a bump in the road; he forced Allie to consider her future.

After the marriage between Noah and Allie, after the reception and after things had quieted down, it was early one morning that Allie sat on the porch watching the sun coming up. She was trying to absorb the rapidly changing colors and shadows that each morning brings. Allie started to sketch in charcoal as it was a quick and cheap medium to practice in. Allie liked charcoal as there was no color to get in the way. Consequently she could concentrate on the subject and work on her lines and shading. The ever changing mornings meant her charcoals were brief almost to the point of being impressionistic or even pointillist. But most of all, Allie found the limitations of charcoal stimulated her creativity to try different things, to extract from her fingers that certain something that makes a regular picture a work of art.

When she was ready, Allie moved to color pencils. While sitting on the veranda she would use her pencils to quickly sketch what she saw by trying to blend in the changing colors with the trees and river in the distant with the lawn and flowers close by. Because of the rapid changing of the morning, Allie found herself capturing one moment at the expense of other moments. That was not what she wanted. She was chasing that elusive 'something more'. What that 'more' was, is difficult to say. So Allie kept on trying and improving and reaching inside herself. Leaving Lon and marrying Noah had brought to the surface many pent up feelings that she could now describe in her art work. Feelings from that summer so long ago now reawakened in which she reveled.

Even thought the sketches Allie produced could never be called sellable, Noah would look at each one with reverence and awe. He knew there was something great coming along.

Noah was fascinated by what Allie sketched. He would go through the sketches one-by-one, slowly and methodically. He marveled at each one so he asked questions. At first Allie was irritated by the probing questions. Then, slowly she began to appreciate Noah's simplistic queries that really weren't simple at all. His questions forced Allie to think about what she was doing and why. Why this shape, why draw it that way, why include this or that and why this view? Then one day Noah asked Allie why there were no people in her sketches or drawings. It was that simple question that jolted Allie into realizing she had been avoiding placing people in any of her sketches. She had avoided the issue of people as she knew that was one of her weaknesses. It is one thing to sketch a living person who is sitting right in front of you. It is a different thing to create a fictitious person and then paint that person into a real life situation. The reference points are totally different.

Noah found an old second hand oak drawing cabinet. This is where Noah kept all of Allie's sketches and drawings even though she thought them not worth keeping. In the years to come, many was the time that Allie found Noah standing in front of the cabinet, slowly going through the files of her old drawings. She would smile to herself and move away to let Noah enjoy walking down memory lane once again.

Allie was very nervous when she took her first completed painting down to the art gallery on Main Street. Allie had become a regular visitor to the gallery as it was a place to retreat to and chat with fellow artists. There was an informal meeting on Tuesday at 11 o'clock. Usually it was coffee and cookies or cake: whatever someone brought. At first Allie was disappointed by the quality of the works being passed about for help and comment, then she realized these gatherings were a place to make friends, and friends are what everyone needs. Slowly Allie was accepted into the group and was soon recognized as a sound contributor to the group. For one Christmas Allie did charcoal sketches of all the regulars. Those sketches became prized possessions as Allie's fame spread. Not one was ever sold but remained as treasured family possessions.

Allie's first painting was placed in a prominent place in the gallery with a proud price tag on it. Allie wanted to go lower while Noah wanted to go higher. Since they could not agree, Margery, the gallery owner, stepped in and went closer to Noah's price than Allie's. The painting lasted one month before an out of town visitor bought it within two minutes of seeing it. Even with Margery's cut, the extra income was very welcome to the struggling family.

As Davie grew he naturally gravitated to his older siblings. It was a slow process because Jane and Jeff already had two years of being together. In two more years the three of them were thick as thieves with Davie consistently bringing up the rear: except at nap time. Then Jane and Jeff were off for the rest of the afternoon.

By the time Davie entered kindergarten it was hard to tell that he had been anything else but normal. That is until you saw his birthmark. It did not take the family long to become oblivious to the birthmark. They only realized he had one when someone else mentioned it. The nice thing about kindergarten kids is the fact they don't care what you look like, only that you share and don't pull girl's hair… too much.

In the fall of 1960, Davie entered 1st grade, Jeff entered 3rd grade and Jane had moved into middle school. Jane was happy to be in middle school and away from the pesky boys. At first Jane found middle school intimidating then soon fell into a normal middle school routine. Soon Jane felt middle school was so grown-up and her two spotty brothers a drag on her social life. Being the oldest Jane made sure the boys knew who was top dog in many small ways that her parents saw but didn't understand. The boys always knew the pecking order and accepted it as a fact of life.

In the fall of 1963 Kate entered 1st grade while Davie was going into 4th grade. Davie didn't know what to do with his fussy sister as they stood outside waiting for the school bus. He wished Jeff was still about. He wasn't. Jeff was in middle school, loving theatre and band. He was starting to develop a thing for Jazz.

Davie was always a slow speaker. He thought before he said something and when he said it, he verbalized it in a slow and methodical voice. It was his vocal tone that was different from the other children. Allie thought it was more nasal while Noah thought it id came from the local kids Davie played with. Things changed in 5th grade when Davie started to stutter. Allie thought it was something to do with him loosing Jeff and picking up Kate. Noah had no idea you could pick stuttering up like it was a cold or something.

Allie went to the elementary school to chat with Dave's teacher, Mrs. Tenent. She knew this was going to be difficult because Mrs. Tenent was of the old school and firmly believed family issues should be solved by the family and not by school or governmental institutions. Allie used to subscribe to that narrow point of view, but had changed hr attitude: New Bern had a way of doing things like that.

Allie's attitude changed as she got to know Noah's friend Gus. Organized chaos was what Gus called his life. "At my time of life it should be feet up on the porch with Linda beside me. But no, no one will leave and make a go of it. Too soft we is. We just say stay and enjoy. We don't have the nerve to tell them to get lost!" After a thought Gus carried right on, "We should have been harder, tougher and meaner than what we was. I guess we got it all wrong." Right or wrong, Allie's arrival at the house did not stop Gus coming over to escape his home life.

One night Allie said to Noah, "The Bible said there will always be poor people among us and it is our responsibility to help them." Noah stopped eating and carefully put down the fork in his hand.

"And?"

"No 'and', just making a statement."

"Which I agree with."

"So why then does Gus carry on working to keep his lazy children at home?" Noah felt this serious question had been brewing inside Allie for a while. Her 'Gus questions' usually start to bubble over after a visit from Gus. Her questions would bubble about, then die away, then bubble about again. Then, finally, come to again and have to be looked at carefully.

"Gus likes to work as it keeps him mentally active." Was Noah's simple reply. The reply was a copy of the one Gus gave him ages ago when his car would not start and he came over and asked Noah to drive him into work at the local music store.

"What about his children? I mean, they are all older than us and do nothing all day."

After careful consideration Noah said, "Ah yes, it may seem like nothing to you, but to others they are fully engaged."

"But I've watched them do absolutely nothing all day. They sleep late, get up even later and lounge about the rest of the time."

"True, all true, but also a little bit wrong."

"Okay smart boy, what am I not seeing?"

"You grew up in the city and are used to city stuff. You know bus and train time tables, movies to watch, what is in fashion and so on. You know all that because that is what you see all day and every day. Out here we see things differently because there are different things to see. Since you like to go to bed early and read you miss all the outside stuff that carries on late at night."

"Like what?" Allie asked in s semi accusing manner.

"Like coon hunting, gator hunting, a little bit of smuggling, maybe a bit of moonshine to refine. All perfectly natural pastimes that have been outlawed over the past century or so. All outlawed to raise cash for the state coffers and ruin a natural way of life that has been going on for a long time." This was news to Allie. Her eyes were beginning to see. Noah continued with, "Hog hunting is okay, as they are a menace to all good farmers and they will pay you to get rid of them for a small fee and then you have free meat for home made sausages."

Noah's words hung about for a little bit before Allie asked in a curious voice, "Did you do anything like this?" She wanted to see how many skeletons there were in Noah's closet.

"During the depression we all made do with what we could find. If the meal came from the woods, it was free for the taking. Pa was a good woodman. He learnt his skills from his father and so on down the line. I suppose I fell in with a long line of Calhoun's who love the outdoors."

"So what about Gus?"

"Yes, Gus is a different kettle of fish. His kin folk started off on the wrong foot. They were some of the last slaves on some of the last slave ships out of Africa before the British killed the trade. They came to the area by way of Cuba, Florida and a local trader who brought his grandparents to New Bern to work on tobacco plantations in the area. This house," Noah said pointing to his home, "Was the master's house back then. Gus' grandparents learned how to tend tobacco during the day and made moonshine during the night. Gus was told that moonshine helped kill the pains of the day. After emancipation no one left. The blacks stayed as they were given a portion of the estate. Over the years their portions have dwindled away until Gus and a few others have decided to stay and diversify."

"So what do they do at night?

"I've never asked and Gus never tells. A good relationship I think. I'm always invited to all the birthday and wedding parties, Gus comes over here to escape and when he brings his harmonica we play music, drink and enjoy life."

Pointing her fork at her newly minted husband, Allie said, "Don't you dare get into anything like that… without asking me first. We'll have no secrets from each other. Our marriage is too important for that."

Allie met Mrs. Tenent at ten o'clock on a Monday morning. Mrs. Tenent handed Allie a list of medical professionals that deal with speech impediments and strongly suggested to Allie that she try there first for an answer to Davie's speech problem. So long as he keeps up with the class, whether he stutters or not was of no concern to her. Allie asked around and was told quite correctly that the nearest 'real' speech therapist was in Raleigh, NC. So one Monday Allie bundled Davie into the car and headed north to see her mother and ask her advice about Davie and his stutter. Of all the grandchildren Anne had a soft spot for Davie. He was like the runt of the litter being born with a bad foot and a port-wine birthmark. After visiting the so-called specialist, the doctor recommended bringing Davie to see him on a weekly base to see what could be done. That was not what Allie had in mind and preferred Noah's suggestion to wait and see.

When Davie moved into middle school his stuttering went away. Only he did not tell anyone. Surprisingly his stuttering seemed got worse when he was in school: more so in chemistry class. It became a known fact that no teacher would call on Davie: which was fine by him. When at home his stutter diminished markedly which raised the hopes of his mother.

In the fall of 1964 Jane entered high school and spent as much time there as possible. Sports, clubs, homework, plays, band, etc., It was a never ever litany of extracurricular activities that kept Jane out of the house and away from her younger sister, Kate… and Jane thought that was just fine.

With Jane in high school, the two boys in middle school and Kate in elementary school. WWIII occurred virtually every morning because Jane took over the upstairs bathroom for her daily preening which meant everyone else had to wait: not a good thing. That is when Noah enlarged the down stairs bathroom and put is a backdoor sink to make sure there was enough room for two active boys in the morning. Once completed, the chaos moved to the kitchen and Allie making breakfast before the school bus arrived at their door. The rumpus was calmed a bit by two parents pulling together and figuring out it was better to prepare for the morning the night before.

When Kate came along the boys were distant and Jane was far too old to be bothered by a younger sister until her mother put her foot down and explained how families pull together… not matter what. Jane listened and schemed and thought about it. The boys were too young to help but help they had to or Allie would loose the war later on. Having girls on either side of the two boys was challenging for Allie as she found relating to the boys difficult while Noah did not.

Davie grew up following his older brother into everything except sports. Jeff was very much like his father playing football, baseball and basketball: just like any other normal boy growing up without a TV.

Since the family did not have a TV, Davie loved story time at the library and turned into an avid reader. There was nothing Davie enjoyed more than curling up with a stack of Superman comic books. Davie loved checking out the only second hand book shop in town for comic books. Soon everyone knew Davie loved comics and made sure to pass on any comic book they came across they thought Davie would like. Dave's comic pile grew while everyone else had a clean house. Throughout middle school Davie would catalogue, organize and collate every comic book he had, then slide each one into a clear plastic sleeve for protection. It was a labor of love. Once done, Davie made sure the comics were never out of order. Allie marveled at her son and how diligent he was when dealing with his comics and how messy the rest of his room was. It was like two completely different boys using the same room. When Noah and Allie went for walks, Noah said he thought 'body snatchers' had gotten to his son. Allie was always worried Davie would hear that comment and always reminded Noah to keep sayings like that to him self.

Noah finally relented and took Davie to his first comic book convention in Greenville, NC. Before they left Davie carefully selected some comic books he wanted to sell. Noah was dubious that his son knew anything about wheeling and dealing with adults and setting the right prices, yet he relented. As Allie said, it would be good father-son bonding time. It was a long drive and when they got there Noah was amazed at how many people were at the convention. Davie took hold of his father's hand and off they went into the crowds.

Noah was surprised that his son knew anyone at the convention, but he did. Noah was baffled by his son's knowledge on comic books. Davie knew the buzzwords, the prices and who to deal with. Noah followed his son making deal after deal and when he sold his last comic book, Davie had the tidy sum of $24.95 in his pocket.

Aside from the money, Noah was so pleased no one commented on Davies's birthmark. Noah noticed a few second takes, but everyone that Davie dealt with was kind, courteous and professional. On Monday, after school, Allie took Davie down to the bank and opened up an account for their budding entrepreneur.

In Davies's last year of middle school Allie received a phone call from the public library. "Mrs. Calhoun, this is Samantha from the library. Can I speak to you?"

"Of course you can," Allie replied while looking about to make sure no one could overhear the conversation.

"It's your son Davie, he's been here," followed by a long pause, "and he has reserved a book."

"A book as in a real book?"

"Yes, a real book." Everyone knew Davie read only comics so to read a real book was something really different.

Startled by the news, all Allie could think to say was, "That's great."

"In one sense it is, in another it is not," was Samantha's two sided reply. "He has reserved Lord of the Rings. It should be due in next week."

After some hesitancy Allie slowly asked "Is that good or bad?"

"Oh, it's very good for your son. I mean to say all he ever reads is comics. So very good."

That reply did not cover the other side of the sward. Rather than wonder Allie asked what she thought was the most important question, "Is it pornographic?"

"Oh good heavens, no! It's a high fantasy epic with men, elves, Ents and Orics. All after s silly ring."

Feeling relieved, Allie asked the next logical question, "Then, what's the problem with Davie checking the book out?"

"It a violent book: about wars and the like… and it is over a thousand pages long."

"Oh, that is long." Was Allie's reply with a heavy emphasis on the word 'is'.

"Yes, I know. One thing to read comics with lots of pictures, totally different to read over a thousand pages with no pictures. And there is Gollum, a nasty twisted person bent on doing no good except keep the ring for himself."

"I see you have read the book," said a relived Allie.

"Oh yes, several times. I'm a Tolkien fan. But I'd thought you should know as it is not the sort of book I would expect someone as young as Davie to read."

"I suppose I'd better read it. I don't suppose I could borrow your copy so I can be ahead of Davie?"

"Oh I don't see why not. Are you a fan of Tolkien? There are so few of us about. We need to stick together, you know."

Allie had a notion of what Samantha was driving at, but her mind was on another track. She wanted to get ahead of her son on this leap into the unknown. 'Where on earth did he get the notion even to ask for the book' was the question that bothered Allie while she replied, "I know what you mean, just like us painters."

"Yes exactly," was the eager reply.

The Lord of the Rings was heavy going for Allie. She felt it was like slogging through the mire. Every page was a chore to lift and turn. She was utterly confused by the Gollum - Sméagol thing. It was during this morass that Allie almost gave up. She changed her mind and plodded on since she knew Davie was only ten pages behind her. To keep the story straight Allie would retell it, as best she could, to Noah while they were out at the docks. They spent a lot of time at the docks these days since there was only one child reading a book over a thousand pages long. Even with reading and retelling, Allie still found it confusing as the action kept jumping from one group to another. Finally she relented and started to keep notes in a notebook as she read. Her help notes then helped Noah keep things straight. Even with Allie's help Noah was totally lost. The real issue was Gollum. To Noah Gollum was a forked tongued idiot who spoke nothing but gobbledygook.

To celebrate the end of the book Noah took Allie out to eat where they reviewed the book with each other. Somehow, looking back, the story sort of made sense and Allie felt a pride of having achieved something many readers will never do: read Lord of the Rings.

It was a week after the meal that she stumbled across Cleff's Notes covering The Lord of the Rings & The Hobbit while at the library. Allie sat down and read the thin book from cover to cover. Once done, things she had read in the book that did not make sense finally fell into place. Despite feeling elated about the book she was also upset that no one had ever told her about Cleff's Notes before!

It was early in Davies's first year at high school when Allie received another phone call from the public library. "Mrs. Calhoun, this is Samantha from the library. Can I speak to you?"

"Of course you can," Allie said exuding confidence. After The Lord of the Rings, she was ready for anything… well almost anything.

"It's your son Davie, he has been here. And he has reserved a book."

"Another real book?"

"Yes, that's right."

Bracing herself, Allie had to ask, "Okay, how big is it?"

"About a thousand pages and is called Atlas Shrugged. This one is all about business and the future."

"Business! Are you sure?"

"Oh yes, I'm sure."

Feeling fatalistic Allie asked the rhetorical question, "Do you have a copy I could borrow?"

"Oh yes. I think you will love this book. So different from The Lord of the Rings. Especially Dagny Taggart. She's my sort of girl."

Allie was glad that Davie was reading books, real books. Her only question was, why these big fat books? Why not something slim and interesting?

Feeling the weight of being a mother on her shoulders, she knew she had to read the book to know what her last son was up to. Rather than read the book on it's own she would buy a copy of the Cleff's Notes to make the going easier… just in case.

Atlas Shrugged was different from anything Allie had read before. The book was interesting to read but the Laissez faire attitude did not sit well with her. She knew too much about how the Americans had supported the German industry during the war to believe in the simplistic 'business knows best' attitude. If truth be known, the attitude is more along the lines of, 'profit first, last and always. Everything else doesn't matter'. To satisfy her own memories, Allie took home Upton Sinclair's book, The Jungle to really understand how businesses really operate.

By Thanksgiving, Davie had joined the chess team and bought his first chess set the same day on the way home from school. Then he visited the second hand bookshop and found a copy of Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess. That night Davie sat up late with Bobby's book in one hand and the board on the other side. Allie and Noah steered clear, only popping in and out to ask Davie is he was okay. He was.

When Davie moved into high school life changed for the worse: his stutter came back with a vengeance. Being a stutterer with a disfigured face meant you were different and being different meant you were an oddball and that didn't go over too well in rural New Bern. Simply put, Davie was picked on in many subtle ways. He saw it, felt it, watched it, and suffered it while his older brother, Jeff, didn't see a thing. Jeff lived in a high flying group that was on the other end of the social spectrum. By the end of his freshman year Davie had gravitated to the looser end of school. The end where the dregs of society hung out. Slowly Davie became friends with Morag Fennig the daughter of hard working Scottish parents who thought the American Dream was for them: it wasn't. By spring Davie and Morag became known as 'stut and cut.' Morag was rather tall, thin, flat-chested and very plain looking. Her thick Glaswegian/Partick accent meant very few people could understand what she said no matter how many times she said the same thing. Sometimes repetition is the springboard into the pit of disaster.

Davie made the first move. He knew the body language of all the losers at school. The slumped shoulders, the dragging feet, the nicotine stained fingers, the glazed look, no make-up, black rings under the eyes, and the classic dumb look given to all teachers that said, "Don't ask and I won't act the idiot." Davie watched Morag try to blend in. No matter how hard she tried, it didn't work.: no one could understand what she was saying Once battered down, defeated and shut out of society Morag wilted. The change was noticeable even to Davie: a boy. And then she began wearing long sleeved shirts all the time.

It was a cold day and there Morag sat outside eating her lunch. Shoulders hunched over, looking down and touching her wrists as she ate. Davie knew the signs and headed out. Morag did not look up as Davie approached her table.

Davie boldly said, "Mind if I sit down?"

Morag said something which Davie didn't understand. Rather than stand there like the fool he was, he sat down assuming that was okay. Once his rear hit the seat, Morag said, with slow deliberation, "I said no."

Davie got it this time and said, "Oh!" He got it wrong and now had to face a rejection from another downtrodden. Floundering badly and not wanting to retreat back to the warmth of the school, he sat there not sure what to do.

After a couple of minutes Morag said, "Fine, I'll go." She started to wrap up her lunch and put it into her carry-all.

Davie summoned up courage from deep down and said, "Don't go… please?"

Morag heard the stutter and then looked up at Davie. For the first time she noticed his face was a lot worse than her plain looks. She knew of Davie. Everybody knew of Davie as he was the but-end of so many jokes. The worse joke Morag had heard was the one that entailed using bleach to clean Davie's face. As cruel as that was, it was better than the one that ran along the lines of using cigarettes to burn out the stain in his face. A lot of the time the nursery rime, "Sticks and stones" has is all wrong: names do hurt people.

"Okay," said Morag thoughtfully, and slowly took out her lunch and started eating it again, this time keeping one eye on Davie: she had never seen a port wine stain before. Davie pulled out his lunch and started to eat. Between the two of them not a word was said. From that inauspicious low point they began to have lunch together while saying very little. Davie had a hard time understanding Morag while Morag struggled with Davies country bumpkin accent.

In their sophomore year Davie and Morag started to have classes and sit together. That is when the duo officially became known as 'the dumdums, stut and cut.' Over time the linguistic barriers softened and they became familiar to each other's accents. Morag had the habit of speaking faster and faster, and when she did her accent became stronger and stronger which totally lost Davie. On the other hand Davie was slow of speech, stuttered and his hick drawl infuriated Morag. Simply put, she was too fast and he was too slow. Despite their differences they got on with life by ignoring the constant barbs and cruel words people hurled at them.

No matter how hard you try, after a while even a duck will drown. Rather than allow things to get so them, Davie and Morag built their own support system and tried to include others. Sometimes it worked while others thought Davie and Morag were just another pair of do-gooders trying to be nice to the real losers of the school.

It was just before Davie turned sixteen that Morag told him she was heading back to Scotland, Aberdeen this time. Her father was not finding the work he thought he would. So he was cutting his losses and heading back home. Unbeknownst to Davie, a friendship, a bond, had grown up right before his eyes. He failed to recognize it for what it was, and now it was going to end.

The end happened rather quicker than Davie had expected. He wanted to bring Morag home, at least the once to meet his parents. That was not to be. Morag's father was so low on funds that checks started to bounce around town so the family left three weeks before their planned date. Davie felt the sudden loss and, when it was all over, realized he had never the once kissed Morag.

The fist Saturday after Davie turned 18 was the first time he went out to a club. The whole outing was shrouded in secrecy. He would not say where he was going except that it was with s school friend and they were going to listen to music: and not to ask any more questions since he was now 18. That night at 5:15 P.M. Davie was picked up by Jonathan, a fellow chess player that looked harmless enough behind big black frame with Cocoa Cola lensed glasses. They were off to Sneads Ferry, North Carolina to listen to a group called BJ.

Sneads Ferry was just off highway 17 heading south to Murrayville and Wilmington. It was easy to see why it was called Sneads Ferry as there is a ferry there. To the side of the landing is a shack that went for a convenience store and next to that a lean-to that doubled as a honky-tonk. called Justin's complete with neon signs of dancing girls in the windows. In front of both buildings was a large colache parking lot.

Davie looked fourteen and very nervous. Jonathan did not look any better despite being 18 and shaving… a bit. Jonathan parked close to the back of the parking lot. This was a mistake as that was the place the drunks go to throw up.

There were two huge bouncers at the door giving everyone the same grimace and checking every ID card. The bouncers were rough looking with a few days growth on their face, dirty t-shirt, dirtier looking jeans and look-a-like bandanas that advertised the place. Both bouncers smelled as bad as they looked: and they looked like bad news. Davie was pulling on Jonathan's white shirt wanting to go home. Jonathan had no plans to retreat just because the bouncers were dirty, unkempt and smelt of last weeks throw-up. Bold as brass Jonathan walked up to the door with Davie hiding right behind him wishing the end of the world was right now and that Gandalf the White would swoop in and rescue him from this insoluble predicament. Without a word Jonathan handed the first bouncer the tickets and his driver's license. Jonathan had chosen this bouncer since he seemed to show some sign of intelligence. The bouncer looked at the plastic license and then looked down at Jonathan. He did it several times. Then he turned the license over a few times to make sure there was a back to it and with a grunt handed it back to Jonathan. Standing aside a shaky Davie stepped forward and did the same.

"Don't serve underage," the bouncer grunted.

Not wanting to argue with his math Davie stuttered through half a dozen D's before he could finish what he wanted to say, which was, "Don't drink,"

Getting real close to Davie's face the bounder replied, "I'm gonna keep a close look at you," The bouncer had a deep and menacing voice that worried Davie.

Davie wanted to say "Thank you, sir," but never made it past the letter 'T'. Davie held his hand out waiting for his new drivers permit to be returned. It was with a dirty thumb print right over the picture. The bouncer nodded to the door and the boys quickly walked in. There was an additional $10 cover charge and the obligation to buy at last two drinks. The only drinks they were allowed to buy was Root Beer. They quickly found seats at the back and sat down to nurse their sodas for a long while. They were early for the 11 P.M. show.

"You ever been here before?" Davie said in a fierce stuttering whisper. This was way past what he was expecting for a birthday treat.

"Hell no! Mother would kill me."

"Then what are we doing here?"

"I brought you here to have some fun."

"My parents are going to kill me when I get home." Actually Davie was thinking he might not get home tonight as it was such a long drive.

"No they won't. Just say it was all my fault and I'll do the same. See, you look after me and I'll do the same. What are friends for?" It didn't matter how Jonathan diced it, Davie was not having a good time. His baby face stood out and his whisper was getting too loud. Jonathan poked Davie and told him to pipe down.

A short while later Davie asked, "How did you know of this place?"

"Big Eddie told me about it. He's been here with his older brothers to check out this group. He said they are good, real good. So I thought why not. Maybe we can get in with Big Eddie."

"The only way you can get in with Big Eddie is to be in his gang. You and I don't ride motorbikes or drink six-packs. Just look at him and his big belly. How long has he been working on that? Since first grade?" Big Eddie was big, had tattoos and sported a typical crew-cut hairstyle. His motorbike of choice was a Harley. Being a senior he could get away with it as the school was biding time until Eddie and his gang left school. The principal, somehow, had forgotten about Big Eddie's younger brother, Fat Freddie.

The group on the stage were bad, really bad. Even Davie could tell they were bad. To start off with the drummer could not keep time; he was al over the place. One guitar player was facing the back and not the audience. Two other guitar players were out of sync and the singer couldn't carry a tune. How they managed to get on the stage was beyond comprehension. At least the two boys had something to talk about to kill time.

By 10:30 P.M. the room was getting warm, Davie was getting sleepy and the animals were getting rowdy. By 10:45 P.M. they were getting low on their second root beer. As the clock ticked closer to 11 P.M. the atmosphere changed noticeably. There was a sense of eagerness and excitement. Finally the announcer said that Jen and Bails were ready. The reaction was immediate with an eruption of whistles, cheers and yells from the drunken mob. From a side door came two girls. One taller, blond, well built and carried herself with a sense of confidence. That was Jen. Bails was slim, brunet, younger and looked a bit nervious. There was no back-up group.

Jen grabbed the microphone and said, "Who loves ya baby?" Her voice was smooth as silk with lusty overtones.

The crowd yelled back, "We do!" In unison the crowd started stomping on the wooden floor. Suddenly, and in unison everyone stopped.

Bails stepped up to the second microphone and said, "What-da-ya want?"

The crowd replied, "We want you and we want music!" And the stomping started again. Then to the same time of the stomping the girls started singing loud and strong, the song was Nancy Sinatra's These Boots Are Made For Walking. An unusual opening song but everyone loved. The stomping went on through five fast paced songs in a row. Jonathan and Davie sat there eyes fixated on B and J. It was love at first sight. The two young men had never seen anyone as beautiful as B and J. At the end of the fifth song, the girls took a break to drink and cool down for a few moments. Jen was extremely well built and had on tight jeans and a rhinestone encrusted cowboy shirt that had the top four popper un-popped. Bails was not so well endowed. Her jeans were well used and her shirt was black with embroidery and tassels. Standing in front of the small stage were two more bouncers. These men looked like they knew what they were there for and gave everyone the evil eye so that everyone knew the girls were off limits. But that did not stop the cat-calls, wolf whistles, and drunken lewd remarks being thrown at the girls. Dutch courage is as strong as water, then evaporates in the morning leaving a nasty residue.

Davie felt a little bit uncomfortable staring at B and J. He couldn't help it. They were so pretty. So he kept on looking. They were pretty to look at, pretty to listen to, and prettily dressed: especially Jen. Jen was really pretty. Then Davie let out a long sigh. A sigh he had never knew he had. One from deep inside. A special sigh for two pretty girls he would never meet.

Jonathan was also looking hard at B and J. His blood pressure was elevated, his breathing was fast and shallow and his grip on his root beer bottle was so strong that he almost shattered it. Beads of perspiration were running down his brow and dripping on to his glasses causing him to take them off and quickly clean them so he did not miss a minute of B & J.

B&J sang their way through half a dozen songs before slowing up and chatting to the audience and sipping water to cool down. While cooling down the bar owner walked up to B & J and started talking to them while he glanced over his shoulder into the crowd. The girls glanced up and gave a nod as they listened.

The next song started and it was a slow ballad song by Carly Simon, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. The girls moved with the music and their costumes shone in the light. Jonathan and Davie were smitten and it showed. They were too young to hide their feelings.

About this time Jonnie, Venus, Travis, Les and the Big Man arrived. This was the back-up group. They had taken a wrong turn somewhere and got totally lost. Les and the Big Man worked their equipment into place as the others got ready. The line-up was Jonnie on lead guitar, Venus on base guitar and Travis on drums.

Now the music became fuller, warmer and tight, very tight. This was a group that had played together and had honed their skills over the years. Jonnie set off Venus and visa versa. Two musicians having fun and showing it.

When the first session ended the group took a much needed break. By now the honky-tonk was well and truly packed. Money was flowing for cool beers as Travis eased up to the owner and told him to turn on the A/C or they walk. Realizing it was not a threat but a promise, the A/C came on.

Not really noticing as Venus came over to the young men and said casually to Davie, "You stutter?" Davie was caught completely off guard. He had never met anyone as famous as Venus. His lips wanted to say 'Yes' yet it never came.

Venus smiled, "Don't worry. Come along and maybe this'll help." Davie looked at Jonathan and Jonathan looked at Davie. Venus added, "Its okay, he'll be safe: I'll be with him." Jonathan didn't look pleased at being left alone in the honky-tonk with only root bear dregs to work with.

Venus eased his way through the crowd as various people called out his name followed by back-slaps and requests for various songs. Venus waved, nodded and shook hands whenever he could as they slowly made progress to a closed door. The door opened into a small area full of bear crates, caskets and other stuff the honky-tonk sold. Sitting on the cool metal kegs was the group. Everyone stopped talking and looked at young Davie. Davie only saw J & B. They looked even better up close. "What's your name son?" asked the Big Man.

Davie rattled of a long line of D's and then turned bright red. He had never been so embarrassed in his entire life. This was bad, real bad.

Davie wanted to turn and run. He was just about to when Jen said, "Sit over here." She scooted to one side of a keg making enough room for the skinny Davie. Davie's jaw fell to the ground with a clank while his eyes go real big.

Davie tried to say, "Me?" which failed most miserably.

Jen patted the keg and Davie came over and sat next to her. Jen's blue eyes bedazzled Davie… and she smelt good to. Once he settled she said, "So, you stutter. It's no big deal. I do to."

"Y-Y-Y-Y-You d-d-d-d-do?" Davie got out with some effort.

"Not on stage or on show… like now. Get me alone," she emphasized with a provocative wink, and finished with, "and off I go."

"B-b-b-but h-h-h-how?"

"I'm an entertainer like Mel Tillis or Marilyn Monroe. Did you know she stuttered?"

"N-n-n-no w-w-w-way!"

"Her signature breathy way of talking is part of her routine to speak without stuttering." Then Jen eased down from the keg and looked Davie in the face. "Look at me." That was all Davie could do. "Close your eyes and think of the letter 'W' Then blow it out like this." Jen blew out the letter easily and in a matter-or-fact way.

Davie tried and messed up.

"Try again. Think of the letter…"

Davie tried and it wasn't quite as bad. He tried a few more times and felt it getting a bit better.

"Show time," Venus said, "gotta pay the bills." With that the group shook itself into order and started to head out the door for the next set. Jen gave Davie a kiss on the cheek and said, "Keep working at it. If I can do it, so can you." She reached up, ruffled Davie's hair and was out the door to a rapturous and raucous reception. Once the band had started, Davie slipped back into the crowd and to his seat by Jonathan. Davie didn't remember one more thing from the show. He was bedazzled and beguiled by the letter, 'W'. And the smile on his face would not leave until Monday morning.

On the drive home Jonathan wrung out of the happy Davie every ounce of what happened. Then Davie kicked back and started practicing his 'W'.

Since only Davie and Jonathan knew where they went Saturday night, of course, by Monday morning every high school senior boy also knew. Big Eddie and his gang were waiting for Davie as he slid into school. Davie was thrown up against his locker with Big Eddie right in his face. Davie thought the end was nigh.

"Okay punk where were you last Saturday night?" spat Big Eddie as he gripped Davie about the collar.

With eyes wider than dinner plates Davie stuttered so badly no one could understand him saying, "Out with Jonathan."

No happy Big Eddie asked the real question, "Where did you get your tickets?" Tickets to see BJ were hard to find and were expensive.

"Don't know," Davie squeaked out, "Jonathan had them." Again his stuttering was so bad no one in Big Eddie's gang could make out a single word.

Carefully putting his hand around Davie's neck. Big Eddie muttered, "I'm going to keep a close eye on you. Understand me!"

Davie nodded as best he could then added, "Yes."

The gang swooped off before any teacher heard what was going on. Big Eddie's gang was like that: fear and numbers were their cover.

Big Eddie found poor Jonathan and escorted him into the bathrooms. "Get out!" Big Eddie boomed at some freshmen kids. They ran for it. Turning to the hapless Jonathan Big Eddy ground out, "Okay punk where did you get the tickets?" Jonathan did not have a clue what Big Eddie was talking about. Monday was a long way from last Saturday. So Big Eddie slapped Jonathan hard across his face causing his glasses to go flying over the concrete floor. One of the gang carefully picked up the glasses and delicately dropped them into a convenient toilet. "Saturday, where did you get the tickets from?"

Suddenly a light went on and Jonathan understood what Beg Eddie was after. "My father, he had them."

Turning to his gang Big Eddie smiled and said, "See! See how easy it is. His father had them. Now that's real nice." Everyone laughed including a mortified Jonathan. Big Eddie put the fear of death into poor glassless Jonathan: along with just about every other senior. Anything younger would be dealt with by Fat Freddie. "And where did your father get them?"

"Work."

"Will he be getting any more?"

"I guess so. Coca-Cola has them."

With a simple victory smile Big Eddie said, "The rest are mine… got it punk!" Big Eddie liked saying the word 'punk' as he literally spat it out, and spit he did this time all over a defeated and thoroughly deflated Jonathan.

Later that day, over lunch, Jonathan told Davie what had happened. The losers had lost again. Both knew their one outing was now their last outing as every ticket his father gave to him would now be handed over to Big Eddie and then Fat Freddie as Jonathan had a younger brother the same age as Fat Freddie.

The telephone rang, it was the school principal wanting to talk to Noah. The principal talked and Noah listened and as he listened his eyes hardened and his lips formed a tight line across his face. He was not happy to have this phone call. Once the one sided conversation was over he dialed three numbers talking quickly in a type of coded language.

Big Eddie and Fat Freddie lived with their mother. Their father was a war vet who had walked out the minute Freddie was born. Their single mother worked in a super market during the day and a diner at night and had little time to be with her fast growing boys. She wanted the best for them but was too busy providing for them to spend time with them. Their house was a rundown 3-2-2 in a nice area of town. The boys didn't bother keeping the place up and their mother had no time for trivial matters. Somehow the family muddled along… just.

Evenings for Big Eddie and Fat Freddie were hanging out with the gang picking on unsuspecting kids in the neighborhood. The gang played baseball in the spring, summer, fall and winter: rain or shine. They were good at it because they practiced so much. Everyone knew they played a lot and never thought twice about the gang walking to and from the various baseball diamonds in the area swinging their baseball bats. Everyone that is except the neighborhood kids. They knew what the bats were really for. And, when a mitt is placed carefully over your face, you can not scream. All you can do is cry and hope the pain doesn't last too long. Fear, numbers and baseball bats win every time.

The boys were watching television and munching on chips. They didn't see it coming. From the back door, through the kitchen four men dressed in black rushed in, pounced on the boys and nailed them to the floor. The boys tried to put up a fight but the men were rock solid and knew how to handle fat boys. Skill and surprise is always good to have on your side. Once pinned down each men had a task to do. Tape about the mouth was first quickly followed by tape about the feet and arms that were pinned at the back. Once done, black hoods were placed over their heads. It took less than two minutes and the two boys were trussed up like chickens for the slaughter.

The dining room table was dragged over and one of the men stood on the table screwing hooks into the ceiling. Rope with a stranded metal core was quickly connected to the hooks. Once done the table was removed and Big Eddie was dragged to his feet. Two hard slaps to his face shook him. He had always been the bullying side, never on the receiving end. He was scared. The rope was eased about his neck and then made snug. The length was just right for him to stand. That was until someone wacked the back of his legs with a handy baseball bat and he went down fast and started to choke. Quickly scrambling Big Eddie got back on his feet and took the pressure off his neck. Big Eddie was getting more and more scared by the second. The men then made short work of Fat Freddie. With the two boys standing there unable to move, the work of softening them up started in silence after the television volume was turned up a little. Slaps to the face. Baseball taps on the soft spots. Gentle punches to the right places. The key to the work was not to leave a mark and these men knew what they were doing after much practice on Nazi's during the war. In war information is king and getting information is paramount in saving ally lives. The softening up process continued without stopping with a team on each boy.

The faces of Big Eddie and Fat Freddie were getting nicely puffed up and the tape about their mouths was getting tighter. The treatment continued non-stop for a good fifteen minutes and then the telephone rang. Someone picked it up, listened and then clapped twice. As quietly as they came, the four men left through the back door.

Five minutes later the boy's mother parked her car in the driveway, opened the front door, and yelled out, "I'm home," and entered the living room. She dropped the groceries and screamed long and loud. She instantly recognized her boys by their shape. She rushed over to her boys pulling and tugging. Nothing gave way. Finding a pair of scissors she cut the hoods of and screamed some more once she saw their puffed up faces with eyes totally closed. Her initial desire was to free her boys, but couldn't. Then she dialed 9-1-1 and told the sheriff what she was staring at.

Sheriff Callahan loved nothing more than racing to the crime locus with sirens blasting long and loud. As the duly elected sheriff he felt it was his duty to inform the general public that he was on duty and on the job pursuing the guilty and ready to have them prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. He also loved cliché's as they sounded good in news bites.

When Sheriff Callahan arrived nothing had changed: the boys still looked like chickens trussed up for the kill. If anything the boy's mother was making matters worse with her constant tugging and pulling and cutting.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" was Sheriff Callahan's opening remarks when he entered the house.

"What do you think I'm doing? You blind or something?"

"Hell no and stop that. This is a crime scene!"

"You gonna leave my boys like that?

"Are they dead?"

"No."

"Can they breath?"

"Yes."

"Then get the hell out of the way!" The boy's mother didn't move but continued to try and get the boys down. Seeing he was outnumbered Sheriff Callahan called for back-up. He wanted someone to sit on this woman.

Deputy Sheriff Hannah Barbarossa was one of the few black female police officers for miles around. White people called her black while the black people called her white. She said she was black despite being a octoroon. It took Deputy Sheriff Hannah Barbarossa five minutes to get to the house and came in strong. What was needed was order and she gave it. In a clear voice Deputy Sheriff Barbarossa said, "Lady, you better get out of the way or else we will help you get out of the way."

"Go to hell, this is my house and these are my boys!" There was a vicious tone in the mother's voice. She had been successful in cutting the tape from them but her boys were still standing there with ropes about their necks and nothing was cutting through the ropes.

"Lady, this is your second warning, step back and let us do our job."

The mother waved the kitchen knife about as screamed, "You two go to hell. These are my boys and I'll get them down." Then she went back trying to understand why the knife was not cutting through the rope.

At that Deputy Sheriff Barbarossa took a couple of steps back and eased out her revolver. She wanted a safe distance between her and the pain-in-the-rear mother. Then in a loud and clear voice she said, "This is your last warning, drop the knife and step back!"

With nothing happening Deputy Sheriff Barbarossa aimed above the mother and pulled the trigger. The deafening sound did what it was supposed to do. The mother dropped the knife; Sheriff Callahan cuffed her and pushed her into a close by easy chair. "Thank you for your cooperation," was his snide remark as he moved over to take a close look at the boys.

The rope was tight about their necks with a compression connection closing the loop. The boys were not talking; rather they were concentrating on breathing while they stood there. Up close Sheriff Callahan could smell urine. One of the boy's had wet himself.

Sheriff Callahan left the crime scene to Deputy Sheriff Barbarossa to take care of. He wanted to cruse about and see what was going on. The house that backed up onto the crime scene had three cars parked outside. Sheriff Callahan knew this would be a good place to start his inquiries. He ran the doorbell and waited.

The door opened and standing there was Jay, Pete, Ray and at the back was Noah. Since it was Jay's house he said, "Hi Phil, what you doing out so late?"

"A problem behind your house."

"A problem? You don't say. What kind of problem? Or did someone take care of a problem?"

"What-da-ya mean, taking care of a problem?"

"Those boys needing taking down a peg or two. Nothing but trouble."

"Would you do that?"

"Me? Never! Something like that is against the law. And you know we are law abiding citizens of the county." The sarcasm was thick enough even for Sheriff Callahan to feel it. And if he missed the sarcasm he could see the other men stifling their laughter by drinking from their beer bottles.

"You mind if I come in for a minute?"

"No, not at all. Come on in and take the weight off your feet. Want a beer? How's your father doing?" Jay's rapid fire threw Sheriff Callahan while the last question stopped Sheriff Callahan in his track. His father was a sore point and everyone knew it. Throwing caution to the wind Sheriff Callahan walked in. The four men were ready, he was not.

If there was one thing about Sheriff Callahan everyone knew, it was Sheriff Callahan never took his hat off. The only place he had to remove it was when testifying under oath in the county courtroom. Then everyone could see his bold head. Yep, Sheriff Callahan was self conscious. Casually Jay asked, "Want me to put your hat up?"

"Nope, I'm good," was Sheriff Callahan's stock answer. Everyone knew his answer as everyone asks to put his hat up.

"Beer?"

"Nope, on duty."

"Okay, on duty so ask away."

Sheriff Callahan shook himself into his professional mode and asked, "Did you hear anything odd this evening?"

Jay looked at the others. Everyone shook their head in unison. "No," was his reply.

Thinking about it he added, "Did you see anything odd outside?"

Jay looked at the others. Everyone shook their head in unison. "No," was his reply.

"What about over there?" Sheriff Callahan asked as he pointed to the house over the fence.

Jay looked at the others. Everyone shook their head in unison. "No," was his reply.

Thinking this was a wasted visit, but changed a line of questioning by asking, "What have you guys been doing?"

"Drinking a little beer, talking about old times, war stories, playing cards… you know, the usual man stuff."

Moving quickly along, Sheriff Callahan asked, "Did you see anyone jumping fences or the like?"

Jay looked at the others. Everyone shook their head in unison. "No," was his reply. Then he added, "We weren't sitting on the back porch or gorping out the back windows to see people jumping about. If we did we would have called you so you could do your job."

Thinking about it Sheriff Callahan suddenly realized four and four really is equal. The thought slowly came to him that he might be staring at the very people he was looking. Keeping cool he asked, "Mind if I look about outside?"

Jay replied enthusiastically, "If it helps finding the guilty, go for it."

Sheriff Callahan quickly replied, "Thank you." And headed to the back door and outside to the back yard. He went directly to the back fence. Starting at one end he walked slowly and carefully to the other. When he turned around he saw the four men following him: not what he was expecting.

"Hay, wait a minute… you're not supposed to be out here."

"Why not? My house… and you didn't say anything."

"I'm looking and you guys are messing it up"

"Messing up what? What are you looking for? We thought we could help you find it." Was Jay's very friendly reply.

"Get back! This is a crime area!" yelled Sheriff Callahan.

"Did you hear that? Cool. A crime area in my own back yard." Jay beamed with pride. The other three cheered heartily and raised their bottles to add some spirit to the search for clues. Not listening to closely to Sheriff Callahan the men all walked to the fence and peered about and over the fence.

"Stand back I said."

"Oops, sorry. Step back and let the good Sheriff do his job."

Noah added, "I'm going inside. Too cold out here."

"Good idea," muttered the good Sheriff as he kept on looking.

The four men trouped in and proceeded to turn off all the outside lights and the ones inside. They gathered about the wood burning in the fire place.

The eruption from the back yard soon entered the house, "What the hell do you think you are doing? Who is the stupid idiot that turned off the lights right in the middle of my investigation."

"I did," spoke Jay in a calm voice. "You never said anything about lights. I always thought you guys carried a flashlight with you. Like a scout, always prepared."

It was Pete's dark brown voice that changed everything when he said, "Before you came we were talking about The Right Reverend Geraldine Thompson-Right. Ever heard of him?" Flustered, Sheriff Callahan shook his head. "Happened during the Battle." The mention of 'the Battle' meant only one thing, the Battle of the Bulge. That is all these men ever talked about. He continued, "It was early in December and we had over a dozen or so British Tommie's. Can't remember why they were over, just that they were. When all hell broke loose they were in the thick of it with us Yanks." He paused for a moment to stare into the fire. "He was a conscious objector. Hated the gun so he fought with a pocket sized edition of the Bible. He always quoted scriptures to us. Said his one book was sharper than any two edged sward. We reminded him that Hitler had moved on from swards and was using modern fire sticks."

The mention of a 'conscious objector' cut Sheriff Callahan to the core. Everyone in the area knew the story of his father, Private Cullen Callahan. He was a young boy of nineteen working in the family business along side his father. He had been going steady with Annie ever since they entered high school together. Thicker than peas and carrots. When he got his call up papers he began to realize there was a good chance of not coming home. He used the old ploy to put pressure on Annie. The old ploy went something like, 'If you love me you would…' And, 'I have never loved anyone else but you. We should before I go: just in case I don't come back.' Annie yielded to the pressure only once. The day young Cullen Callahan was supposed to leave for boot camp in Louisiana he was already half way to Canada. The letter Cullen he left his father said he was a conscious objector and did not believe in war.

Sadly, two months later Annie realized she was pregnant and Cullen was living with Canadian Indians out seal hunting and trapping. His first letter back home didn't arrive home until mid 1946, a long time after his mother died, all war activities had ceased and his son was born.

Since everyone knew Annie and Cullen were steady it was not a huge leap of faith to realize what happened. Poor Annie had it rough until a smashed up Corporal Stag Patronus came home to New Bern and was glad someone would give him the time of day. Corporal Stag, as he became known as, had a badly scared face, his body was not much better, his left hand did not work too well and his left knee was repaired as best it could in a field hospital in Flanders before being transferred back to England where he spend months trying to save his leg to no avail.

The pity episode continued for a long time until Group Captain Douglas Bader came visiting. The son-of-a-gun Bader started as he meant to continue. He ripped into the group of sorry faced men assembled to listen to him. Immediately Corporal Stag's blood started to rise and soon men were talking back to the brat of an Englishman. The temperature rose on both sides with Bader stated in blunt terms that they were a bunch of slackers and not willing to face the future. To get on and live or quit and die. The comments thrown back were none to complementary. It was when the temperature was about to erupt into physical violence that Bader took his silver handled walking stick and gave his left leg a hearty whack. The sound of wood on wood echoed loudly. Then he swapped the stick to the other hand and gave his right leg an equally hearty whack. The sound of wood on wood was equally valid. Then he hitched up his trousers and began to walk about. Silence was instantaneous. Bader walked so well while swinging his cane… Showing had the desired impact. From that point on the discussion was very sober as he told the assembled men what happened and how he fought back to full flying status with two wooden legs. Then he got serious as he started telling about being shot down and having to leave a leg behind or else go down with the plane. The stories continued for the next two hours as he stood there showing what is possible when you loose one leg below the knee and the other above the knee.

The picture of Bader standing there countered the recurring self pity. Corporal Stag fought through the down days because he wanted to go back home and make a go of it despite the outward appearance.

Corporal Stag was a good step-father to Sheriff Callahan. Their favorite activity was out hunting, camping and fishing. Activities away from prying eyes that stared at his face. Items Sheriff Callahan never saw. When Corporal Stag died there was one stranger at the grave site, standing apart from every one else. Some said it was Private Callahan down from Canada. Others thought it was a reporter from Raleigh. No one ever found out who it was so the stories continued about Private Callahan when ever the Sheriff walked by the older folk of New Bern, NC who had nothing better to do than reminisce of days gone by.

Pete picked up the story after a pause, "The scum bag Germans were coming through the woods like a pile of ants. We were not ready but it was kill or be killed with the Germans holding all the cards. The Tommie's fought right along side us. The fight was long and hard. They knew what the score was. And then there was The Right Reverend Geraldine Thompson-Right. He was all over the place. Running messages; getting bandages; trying to find us food; and performed the last rights when needed. Somehow the Germans could never get a bead on him, like some magical cloak kept him invisible. The Tommie's called him 'Din.' It was always, 'Din do this,' or Din get that.' And Din obliged by moving as fast as he could even pulling back wounded men into relative safety. And when things looked black Din would pull out his trusty Bible and read us a passage or two before we went shooting again. The end came one night. It was cold… hell it was cold every night. Never thawed out 'till spring came. We were spaced something like fifty feet apart. There were not enough men to get any closer together. The Germans had the advantage of the high ground over us. The firing had been going on for ages and our supplies were getting low. Things were not looking good. I think we all wished Din would come by and read a bit: but he couldn't. We fought long and hard into the night. Somewhere around midnight one of the Tommie's was hit bad. He started to scream out for Din. He kept saying over and over, "Din, Water Din, Get me water Din." The Germans honed in on the noise. I guess it was bothering them. They were trying to finish him off. Sort of like target practice on the range. The minute Din got close he tried to go and rescue the man. 'Big Bertha' Fred held him down as best he could but at under 100 lbs he was no match. Din took off inching his way out there. We were giving him as much cover fire as we could. Some even ran out of bullets except for the last one. Keeping the last bullet was something we all did. Kept it in the chamber just in case we fancied taking that way out." Pete grimly laughed at his own joke then carried on, "Hell we were half dead anyway. It always looked appealing in that cold." The others solemnly nodded. "Din got to the Tommy, took off his helmet and started administering the last rights. We couldn't see but we knew what he was doing. That's how Din did things. It was like two simultaneous shots that took him out. We heard the shots and then a slow slump of a body going down. I guess he never knew it. Best like that." The pause was long enough for the poignancy to settle in. "In Valhalla is a special place for our band of brothers that fought long and hard across the grimy face of Europe. But I'm saying there is a special place for the likes of Din. It won't be us asking Din to do this or that. It will be us doing things for Din in repayment for his unselfish sacrifice."

Jay put his hand on Pet's shoulder and intoned, "Amen, brother… amen"

The story hit Sheriff Callahan hard. He always thought conscious objectors ran to Canada and never thought any were actually in the war. Thoughts of the boys and the investigation had totally evaporated into the night as Sheriff Callahan walked back to his car. He eased into his seat, put his hand on the steering wheel and thought of his lost father. He thought maybe it was time to track him down and ask him why the hell he ran away. Oh, he had a good idea. Only he wanted to hear it from his father's mouth. He wanted to hear the truth for once rather than all the stupid stories that were still floating about town.

His meditation was finally interrupted by the radio crackling into life and Deputy Sheriff Barbarossa asking him if had found a hacksaw or something else to cut through the wire. With a sigh he headed back to the locus of the crime.

Big Eddie and Fat Freddie were not at school the next Monday. With their mother in jail, because she couldn't make bond, the family became more disjointed. Rather than face foster care the boys took off to their Uncle Bob's place out in Idaho. Uncle Bob was a straight laced potato farmer selling his special potatoes to McDonald's. He was none too happy having two fat brats turning up on his farm with a note from his no good baby sister who was a spoilt brat from the beginning. He knew having a girl as the caboose of the family was going to be trouble for his soft parents: he and his four brothers were right in their assessment of the situation. To Uncle Bob, girls are nothing but trouble. Then again, Uncle Bob was married with three girls, two boys and another one on the way.

It was several weeks later that Sheriff Callahan realized that none of the four men ever mentioned hearing Deputy Sheriff Barbarossa's gun shot from the house. The lack of inquisitiveness was telling. It is one thing to know what happened, it's another thing to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt.

The only girl Noah or Allie ever saw Davie with was Oakley Starr. She was tall with black hair, black eyeliner and black lipstick. Her usual outfit was a black t-shirt, black jeans and black boots under a long black trench coat. It was a rebellion against the fufu cloths her mother inflicted upon her when she was small. Allie first saw the two of them over the road from the art gallery down on Main Street. She had to do a double take then run into a store to hide and watch them walk down the road in animated discussion. It took Allie three weeks of heavy digging and prying before she found out Oakley's name. The Starr family was new to the area living on the north side of the river. The father was a long distance truck driver working for Wal-Mart, his wife stayed at home trying to loose weight while Oakley and Oakland, her brother, sort of attended New Bern high school. To say they regularly attended would be a stretch. To see them at school three days on a row was unusual. Since they were new, the principal was not too concerned about them. Rather than waste valuable resources chasing the kids about town, he felt it was okay to let them slide through since they would soon be gone: or so he through.

Even though Oakley and Oakland hated school, they loved chess and were the original speed demon chess players. All they would do was move a piece then bang the clock… move a piece then bang the clock… move a piece then bang the clock and so on until one won and then the process started again. Between each thump on the clock was the second game to see who was the fastest to move a piece before banging the clock. To these two a chess game was pure speed because if you didn't move fast enough the other one would move a piece for you. If Bobby Fisher was considered weird, Oakley and Oakland were way past Bobby on the weirdness scale.

Davie and Oakley were never considered a pair. What brought them together were the heated arguments over chess. Was it a speed game or a slow deliberate game allowing for the careful perusal through the many various, probable and possible, plans of attack that would achieve the objective. Their positions were well defined and never changing, so the arguments might be heated but never produced any movement in the other person. The two of them had very different styles which they played out while practicing chess at school. Obviously Oakley had the experience to play on the school chess team while Davie looked on muttering under his breath. During these tournaments Oakley became known as the person to watch as her looks and speed usually intimidated her opponents into making an error because she did not give them the luxury of time. Despite her talents Oakley never considered herself a good chess player, even though the coach said she was. She knew her style of play was flash and that she usually ended her spectacular winning streaks to some bozo with thick glasses who hero worshipped Bobby Fisher. When such defeats did occur, Oakley would get up and flip the chess board and pieces onto the floor then stomp off. A bitter defeat with defiant showmanship is always better than another boring win.

Oakley was never thought of as a looser despite her appearance. She carried herself with confidence and the confrontational attitude from the chess board into her everyday life. Her in-your-face approach made some of her teachers recognize that Oakley had that something that could make her outstanding in whatever she did. Of all her teachers it was her old and battered math teacher, Mr. Abernathy Carmichael, who tried to encourage her to become a lawyer. After he broached the topic for the third time, Oakley stopped coming to his class. He was one of only two teachers who gave Oakley a well earned 'F' for the semester.

Every February, for as long as anyone could remember, was the Craven County fair. The Craven County FFA Association had been running the show ever since the near disaster of 1921 when cattle prices took a nose dive and caused a major financial run on the local banks who were the fair's original sponsors. The CCFFA were more conservative and became the biggest scholarship source of the county. If anyone wanted to join the CCFFA, they could. However, all new steering group members start at the bottom by doing the grunt work and then, over time, worked their way through the group until they are running the area they are associated with. The most sought after position was the Barbeque Chairmanship. There was a lot of tasting, backslapping, drinking and judgmental calls in that position. Somehow, the Barbeque grand champion title was liberally passed amongst the various contestants.

The main reason for the fair was the scholarships contestants could win. Scholarships were earned all the way from mutton bustin through the various show animals to the serious work in the rodeo arena.

Every year, ever since he was too young to remember, Davie would go every evening to the fair. It was in his DNA. The fair was a chance to see people away from school. For some reason his school 'friends' were not as rude and crude at the fair as they are at school.

Davie loved wandering about the fair rides at various times. After school let out it was the time of excitement for the young children as they ventured out of the protection of the home and into the fair while under the watchful eye of concerned parents. Small kids on small rides with parents snapping away with their cameras creating important memories. Davie noted most parents kept their kids out of the large animal barns and concentrated on the rabbets, doves, goats and sheep. And, of course, the petting zoo always had a long line of youngsters at the gate.

As the evening wore on, the average age crept up. The crowds changed to teenagers and finally to people who wanted to see the action in the rodeo arena and then listen to the country and western concerts. Davie would hang about virtually until the lights went out. Before he could drive, it meant cycling home down hectic country lanes. Once he earned his drivers license, he used the old 1962 Ford F-150 pickup.

Since this was his senior year Davie was in a reflective mood as he wandered about. This probably would be his last time at the fair because he hoped to be gone from home soon after graduation. If he could avoid the draft he was thinking of going to San Francisco, New York or even London, if he could get a passport.

Lynn was showing her horse Jude, so Davie stopped by to see if she was there. She was not. So Davie gave Jude a rub on the nose and started talking to the horse. Davie found horses were generally good listeners. As Davie talked he looked over Jude and was impressed at the work Lynn had put in to getting Jude ready for the show. Lynn took pride in her work and Jude was no exception. He spotted Lynn and John way off down the barn strolling hand in hand heading his way. Davie guessed they had been touring the competition and sizing them up. It was a common practice in showing animals. The question was to stay or go. If he stayed he'd have to face public enemy number one: John. Or go and miss Lynn. The last time Davie and John messed with each other both were expelled from school for a week. Since John's roots run deep he accepted his punishment and the shellacking from his father who was a brute of a man as well as being upright and honest. People said John's father believed strongly in the "laying on of hands" when it came to his children. The first two left home at the ripe age of 16 and 14 and never been heard of since. John, on the other hand knew the game and only had the one whipping from messing with Davie.

Lynn spotted Davie beside Jude and Davie saw Lynn's face go white. In that split second Lynn turned John about and headed out a side row making a bee line for the corn dog stand. Davie stood there watching the pair progress all the way to the back of the line. It was then that John started to make out with his girlfriend by kissing, necking and generally enjoying being with Lynn. While the free event was going on Lynn was looking over John's shoulder eye to eye with Davie.

Davie broke the impasse by bowing ever so slightly and tipping his hat to Lynn then heading out the barn over to the BBQ stand to have some good ribs.

Lynn broke her entanglement by saying, in a gruff voice, she had to go to the girls room. She did then circled round to the back of the BBQ stand where she knew Davie would be stuck in to a plate of ribs with a small BBQ sandwich, with fixings on the side, on a plate for her. He always did that ever since they were kids. It infuriated Lynn that Davie knew her weakness for a good BBQ sandwich with onions and sauce on the side. No matter what time of the year it was, or where they bumped in to each other, Davie would always remind her that he'd bought her a small BBQ sandwich at every county fair as far back as he could remember. She took the plate and sat opposite Davie. Once his mouth was empty Davie said, "You're welcome," followed by silence. So he continued, "You've done a good job with Jude. You should go all the way," more silence. While Lynn ate she never once took her eyes off Davie. She knew every inch of his face and continued to study it hard. She was looking for a chink in his indefatigable armor. She had just read the latest issue of Readers Digest and saw the work 'indefatigable' in the Word Power section. She liked how it sounded when said with a sneer. With her small sandwich just about gone, Davie knew he was still in the dog house. The same place he had been for years. He was sorry, really sorry that he hurt Lynn. They were young and stupid. He regretted it all now but just hoped that, one day she could forgive him. Lynn got up, wiped her face and hands on a paper napkin. She then reached in her top right pocket, took out the quarter and flipped it to Davie. He caught it in flight. He knew what year it would be. It always was the same year. He never looked at it as he put it into his top right pocket and snapped it closed while Lynn walked away. Davie lost his apatite and a glum look covered his face.

Davie fell in with Oakley and the two of them headed off to the bumper cars. That way he could take out his anger on the competition without doing any damage.

No one could ever call Oakley a country and western person: her outfits didn't fit. Despite her looks she could carry a tune and usually sung along with the local C&W folks trying to make a name for themselves. Davie liked listening to her as she sung quietly along and thought she was good enough to have a go. Oakley did not and there the story ended.

In May 1972 Davie graduated from high school. He graduated in the last eighth percentile. Only his parents attended the graduation ceremony. With a stiff upper lip Noah would say, "At least he graduated and walked." Since he did graduate Noah threw a party for his son. He invited teachers and friends while Davie invited several of his friends including Lynn and the Starr kids. Lynn did not respond to the invitation while the Starr kids did and came. The Starr kids never knowingly turned down a free meal as they did not eat regularly since there was no room in the kitchen as their mother stored all her old Home and Garden, Women, and Time magazines there. The boxes literally blocked access to the stove, cupboards and the dishwasher. Even though the fridge was barely visible, it was accessible if you don't mind climbing over a box or two or was it three. The backdoor was blocked which was great if wanted to keep people in, but really bad if you wanted to get out in a hurry.

Davie managed to get Oakley to include some color by adding a single deep red rose to her hair. It was that one extra piece of color that made Allie take a close look at Oakley and how she applied her makeup. Allie was seeing something she had never painted before. Allie was not leering, more of a close observation. Oakley didn't see all the extra attention as she was so used to being looked at with strange expressions. Once the party was over and the place tidied up enough, Allie slipped out to her studio, pulled out a sketch pad and pencils and started to work on Oakley. Playing with light and shadows on Oakley's black appearance with her one splash of red was hard to capture. Several sketches later Allie was still not happy with the results. Allie needed more time with Oakley to capture what she was looking for. With frustration Allie put her stuff away and headed to bed. While she scrubbed her teeth, Allie moved her hand about her head, casting a shadow on her face, to see if she could produce the result she was looking for. It didn't work.

During the summer of 1972 Davie worked with his father in his woodwork shop. Then on weekends Davie traveled about the southern states attending key comic conventions where he bought and sold comics. He, like everyone else, were trying to buy low and sell high while trying to move up the comic quality ladder. During the quiet times he started reading the Dune series of books. Working with his father was work while selling comics was fun. The strained father-son relationship mellowed as they spent more time with each other.

In the evenings, when the chores were done and the dishes were put away, Noah always found time to play his guitar. These days he was playing simple ELO music as Davie had started following them as they morphed from The Move into the more classical ELO.

It was Davie who first noticed his father had changed how he held his woodworking tools. It was all wrong. The onset of arthritis had caused Noah to adjust his hold on things. The change was simple to Noah but of major concern to his son. Fortunately Davie had developed some tact and diplomacy and approached his mother about it once he had thought it through… just like a chess game. Fortunately Allie knew what her son was talking about as she had noticed it when Noah was in the studio and Allie asked him to pass something to her. Age is a sly and stealthy foe. From that time on Allie kept a closer eye on her husband.

Allie thought her son was trying to push her attention onto her husband to avoid closer scrutinization. There was something going on with Davie, he was sprucing himself up these days. Very much in the anti Oakley mode. While Allie was wondering what was going on with Davie while Noah knew exactly going on with Davie.

Noah and Abe Glover went back a long way. The Glovers had been in the area as long as history could remember. They lived about ten miles down the way from Noah's house. Ten miles as the crow would fly; say about double that by road. Lynn Grover was Abe's first child and first daughter only to be followed by four boys. Since the Glovers and the Calhoun's lived so far out of town they became friends by default. They fell into helping each other out with their kids. Missed kids were picked up. Lost homework was shared. Forgotten assignments were copied. Reports were talked about on the phone for hours. And the boys enjoyed fishing together.

In first grade Davie and Lynn were given seats next to each other. From that point on they became firm friends. The friendship became sure over the next four years in elementary school as Lynn helped Davie with their weekly word list and reading assignments. The difference between boys and girls in elementary school is self evident. Even thought they went to different middle schools it was Lynn who knew Davie had lost his stutter, kept it just to annoy people, and used it as a shield to hide behind. Lynn didn't fuss at Davie and Davie never stuttered when talking to her.

It was Lynn that bought Davie the Who's 45, My Generation. He loved listening and singing along to the fake stuttering. Noah compounded the issue by learning the song and singing it as a duet with Davie.

In high school Lynn and Davie were never considered close and, in fact, rarely saw each other. They did not have the same classes, schedule or friends. Lynn became more and more interested in barrel racing and her horses while Davie moved down the social ladder, into chess and dark colors. Lynn carried a full load and earned good grades while Davie's goal was to graduate with the least amount of work possible. He knew were the graduation line was and aimed for one inch over the line.

Allie and Noah spent many hours talking about their Davie. They wondered why he was so different from all the others.

Their chats were getting longer and longer as the children got older and older. There was more to talk about as each child was in a different point on their path through life. With Davie their talk was more deliberate as high school graduation was a key transition point. Noah and Allie were wondering how Davie would cope with it considering his poor high school performance.

They also talked long because they were getting on in age. In 1972 Noah was 68 while Allie was 66. They were no longer spring chickens, more like an old rooster and hen.

It was July 1, 1972. School was out, summer was hot and there was plenty of work to be done. Davie was in the hardware store getting some more supplies for this father. Some of the fencing heeded replacing and then painting. Davie was pushing the trolley across the parking lot toward his old pickup. He parked close to the back to get the afternoon shade from an old oak tree. The shade helped since the pickup didn't have any air conditioning: just roll down the windows and go. The tail board was down and sitting there was Lynn and her lunch bag. Davie didn't know how to read the situation. It had been ages since they spit up in a fierce and acrimonious argument that almost degenerated into a brawl if it weren't for their friends that pulled them apart. A stupid mistake that Davie made and had been living with the regret ever since. As much as he tried to justify his actions his conscience kept bothering him. He knew what he had to do, the right time never seemed to happen, and so the regret kept sitting there waiting to be resolved. Davie slowed up and scanned the parking lot for John's elevated new pickup. No one had a pickup with that size of lifters. Then again no one had a father who owned the only Ford dealership in town. Davie could not see the pickup so he picked up the pace a bit. He still had strong feelings for Lynn despite being an idiot.

To be on the safe side Davie stopped about ten feet from the leg swinging Lynn and gave an opening, "Hay." She did not look up, just kept on swinging her legs back and forth. Davie thought, 'Still in the dog house.' While looking at her Davies's conscience went into high gear. He never felt so guilty as he did right now. Knowing the only way to get rid of the weight he was feeling was to say he was sorry, he started with, "Lynn, look, I'm sorry." He paused as he studied his boots. Then he let it all out. "I'm worse than sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for what I said. I was way out of line. You have stuck by me since for ever. You are the only one that knows everything there is to know. Then I hurt you. I didn't mean to… it was wrong, all wrong and I'm sorry I did it and want to make it right but don't really know how. We can't go back… I can't take it back… I can't undo what is done. All I want you to know is I'm super big time sorry and I want you to know I want to be friends again. I miss you, I really do miss you." Then there was a deathly silence.

Lynn stopped swinging her legs, jumped down from the tailboard and walked over to Davie. Davie was worse then nervous. Lynn stopped right in front of Davie and then started hitting him on his chest. Blow after blow came thick and fast. All the while Lynn was crying and repeating, "Why did you do it?" over and over again. There was not answer that Davie could offer. Everything he could think of sounded trite and hollow. He knew she was right. Slowly Lynn's blows got slower and lighter. Finally they stopped and then Davie enveloped her in his arms. Of all the people in the world, Lynn has been the one who has been true and honest through thick and thin. She was there in kindergarten when he could not find their classroom and been guiding him ever since. Friends like that are worth their weight in gold.

Davie was half way through saying, "I'm sorry," once more when Lynn put a finger on his lips and said, "I hear you. Let's move on."

"What about John?"

"What about John?" Lynn asked back.

"Are you.?"

"That was yesterday's news. I was getting tired of getting in and out of his stupid truck." There was hardness in her voice that said something else. Since boys talk Davie had heard Lynn had said 'no' once too often for John's ego.

So Davie asked, "Want to go for a drive?"

"I'd like that."

"Usual spot?"

"I'd like that to."

Between their two homes was a group of ancient live oak trees covered with kudzu. They had been using it as a meeting spot for as long as they could remember. Sort of a home away from home. Davie parked in the usual spot and they climbed their favorite tree to their favorite spot that had been created just for them by the forking of the tree limbs. From this spot they could see all the land about and not be seen from below. Of course the pickup parked below gave the game away. They lay back against the sturdy tree and started to talk. As was usual, Davie lost his stutter and the words flowed. Lynn had that effect on him. One of piece and completeness. It was during their separation that Davie realized a lot about Lynn. Mainly he realized how fortunate he was to have known her for so long and how close they were. He realized how their separation had hurt and how lonely he was without her about. He also realized that life without Lynn would be very very miserable.

When there was a lull in their conversation Davie searched in his jean coin pocket for the ring he had been carrying around for ages. Getting Lynn's ring size had been a snap. The previous year Joslyn's came by the high school to visit all Juniors who wanted to order Senior rings. Back then Davie and Lynn were still good friends and had gone together to order their rings. Even back then Davie wanted to know Lynn's ring size.

Feeling this was as good a time as it gets, Davie took Lynn's left hand in his and said, "If I have learnt one thing it's this. There is no one else I'd rather be with. We have known each other a long time and I'm glad about that. I don't want to mess it up again, so I'd like to propose that we do something about it. I've said I love you, but now I want to show it to," carefully Davie slid the ring on. Of course it fit. "With this ring I want to tell you and the whole world that I want us to be together for ever."

The ring jolted Lynn into the sitting position. "You're serious aren't you?"

"Yes." Was the sincere reply.

"You really want to do this?"

"Yes."

A smile spread across Lynn's face that lit up the whole world. She looked at the ring and nodded slowly to herself. Then she got all serious and said, "Just you wait. You have to do it properly. You have to do it right here beside this tree. Come on, lets get down."

"What?" said a bemused Davie.

"You propose properly on one knee, down on the ground."

They climbed down and there, beside the old live oak, Davie formally asked Lynn to marry him. She gazed at the ring and said, "Yes." For once Davie knew he had done the right thing. He knew that together they had a fighting chance of a good life. A life infinitely better together than with someone else who didn't know old history.

Once back in the safety of the tree, Lynn said softly, "You know I'm going to the University of North Carolina at Greensboro."

"I've heard."

"What are you planning to do?" was Lynn's unsure question.

"I'm coming too."

"How?"

"Don't know. But I'm not loosing you again. I'll be there, somehow, someway. Even if I have to work, I'll be there with you."

With a sigh, Lynn said, "Let's not tell our parents just yet. We need to get school worked out and you enrolled. An engagement might mess them up."

Trusting in Lynn's judgment, Davie agreed and they made plans to meet tomorrow at the library to look at degree courses that would fit Davie.

A couple of days later, while eating dinner, Davie broached to topic of university. Rather than the frontal attack he used a strategic diversion tactic. "Pop, how come you never went to university?"

"No money and not the opportunity." Noah had often told his family about how he grew up without their advantages.

"If you had the chance, would you have gone?"

"Hard to say son. It would be only speculation now. My time has long since gone." Noah knew where the conversation was going as Nick down at the post office had received a package from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro addressed to David Calhoun C/O the post office. Nick called Noah asking if he was coming in to town and if he was to stop by the post office. Noah said to hang on to it and give it to his son when he comes in to get the mail.

"Didn't you get the GI Bill?"

"I got it but never used it. Life was not like that back then. I had a house and then came your mother back into my life."

"Could you still use it?"

"Don't know son. I guess I could ask." As his son glanced down Noah gave his wife a wink. She gave him a look of encouragement. "I'd have to ask if it is really worth it. Going back to school that is. With your mother doing so well, I didn't want to upset the apple cart. I doubt it if I could ever earn as much as she does with one painting. I think we are managing as we are."

"Oh," said Davie. He sounded down. "So you've thought about it?"

"Oh yes, we have talked a lot about it." The notion that his parents actually talked about things was a new concept to Davie. From his limited view point he had never really considered his parents as the talking type. His world had long diverged away from his parents sometime about age twelve or thirteen. Definitely by age fourteen he had moved outside his parents' sphere, or so he thought.

Feeling it was time to change the topic, Davie asked his mother a similar set of questions. He knew this would be easier as his mother had gone to university. "Mom, why did you go to university?"

"My parents told me to go."

"Did you want to?"

"No. I was having too much fun. It was the roaring twenties. Everything was changing and I enjoyed the time."

"But you did go, didn't you?"

"Silly, of course I did: eventually. Then it was of little use once the war started and I was working in the hospital."

"Your degree was in what?"

"Fine art. Not very practicable if you want to make a living, but good enough to get you into the right circles in Paris. That is where I was thinking of going once I graduated. Father was against it as money was tight and it was not 'done thing' for a single lady to take off to Paris on her own without a chaperone."

Davie chuckled, as he said, "You were thinking of going to Paris on your own?"

"Of course," Allie with some indignation. "It might not be done, but I wanted to do it and felt I could. Sadly it never happened and that was that. Dad wanted to go to the Olympics. That never happened either."

"I never knew that." Said Noah in a curious way.

"Oh, I thought you knew?"

"Oh I think I would have remembered. The war sticks to me and I have the books to prove it." Noah had a good collection of war books and was a regular at the main library as that was where the better books were located.

"It was one of those things. Father wanted to go and support the American team Sort of like going to the Chicago for the 1933 world's fair."

"You went there?"

"Oh yes. We went and had a fun time. Well, mother and I went first and father came later. When he arrived we had a fun time showing him all the things we knew he would be interested in. Once Berlin was picked for the Olympics father wanted to go. No matter how we looked at it, we could not afford the cost of the boat to Bremerhaven and then the cost of Berlin. Father was most disappointed." The expression Allie was giving Noah said it was not the time to go into the topic any more. Noah got the message.

Davie had never known his mother had traveled all the way to Chicago: any by sleeper train. That must have been some adventure. As he dwelt on Chicago he forgot about university.

"Well, if that is all, I have things to do." With that Noah started to get up.

Realizing he was loosing the chance, Davie said, "Wait, I have an announcement to make." Both parents stopped and looked at Davie. "I would like to go to the University of North Carolina at Greensboro."

"I would like to get back to my wood," replied Noah.

"Father, you are not listening. I mean I'd like to go to university."

"What you father is saying," helped Allie, "is 'to like' is not the same as 'to do'."

"Huh," was Davies empty reply.

So Allie helped a bit more. "To say you would like to do something is like saying you are hungry. So what if you are hungry? If you don't do something about it then you starve. So saying you would like to go to university really does not mean that much. If you said, 'I want to go to university' that would be much better. So what is it?"

"Okay, I want to go to the University of North Carolina at Greensboro this fall," beamed Davie.

"To study what?" Was Noah's reply. "Something worth while, I hope."

"Finance."

"Finance… Are you serious?" There was no hiding the surprise in Noah's voice. His son's current interest in finance extended to ask his parents for more and more cash for less and less work.

Somewhat put off by his father's reply Davie went on the defensive, "What's wrong with finance? You can get a good job in a bank." When Davie ended with 'bank' Noah gave a little shudder. Him and banks were not exactly on good terms. Then again, he knew what his son was saying. Boring jobs are stable jobs and they create good solid middle class people: of which Noah could not see Davie turning into.

Thinking carefully and not wanting to upset his son, Noah asked, "I guess you have thought about it?"

"Yep. Long and hard."

"Four years of hard grind…"

"I know."

"You remember the rule of thumb?"

"One hour of class work is equal to three hours of personal study. I remember." Somehow the adage stuck even though Davie never practiced it throughout his high school career. Then, with a smile, he added, "Don't worry Pop, I can do it. I really can." Noah wasn't sure who Davie was trying to convince, but it did sound impressive.

"Can you stick at it for four years? That's a long time."

Feeling a bit hurt, Davie replied, "Pop, I can do it. You gotta believe me," Then Davie chipped in, "And remember past performance is no indication of future successes."

"Son, past performances have not exactly been stellar." Noah liked using the word 'stellar' as Allie liked using it. It reminded him of her stellar success as a painter.

"I know, I know. But that is high school and we are talking about college."

"What's the difference?"

"College is serious stuff."

"And high school isn't?"

"No, high school isn't where the action is. That's college."

"So, how do you get ready for college?"

"You don't. You go, knuckle down and do it." Such a simplistic phrase from Davie didn't wash too well with Noah. If there was one thing Noah learnt in the army it was 'be prepared'. If not you get smashed, and smashed hard at Bastogne, France. Noah figured it was the same when it came to education, and was confirmed by Allie. Success for college starts in the freshman year of high school. Something Davie never understood or bothered with on his quest to scrape through high school.

"You really think you can do it?" Was Noah's simple question. He asked it already knowing the answer.

"No problem Pop, I can do it." Davies glib reply and big smile almost convinced Noah that Davie could actually pull it off. Then reality set in and Dave's past performance shone brighter than the smile on his face.

"Okay, son, let me talk to your mother."

"You do that Pop. Don't take too long as I need to sign up for school soon."

That evening, after the dinner plates had been washed and put away, Noah and Allie took a slow drive to their favorite ice cream parlor. They needed to do some serious talking about Davie and his sudden change of heart toward college.

Once settled in a quiet booth Allie started with, "It's all to do with the Grover girl."

"Lynn?"

"Is there any other? Of course it's Lynn."

"They don't go out with each other?"

"They did a long time ago…"

"Waite a minute," cut in Noah, "They were kids back then. You mean to say there is something there after, what, ten or is it fifteen years?"

"Oh Noah, you are so blind. Haven't you ever noticed Davie when ever the Grover's are mentioned?"

"No."

"You need to open your eyes now and again. She is still the apple of his eye. I really don't think things have changed one bit for him."

"But they don't date or anything!" Then Noah looked closely at his wife and asked, "Don't they?"

"Of course not silly. They haven't dated in years."

"Then why do you say it's all about the Grover girl?"

"Because, she is going to university and Davie is following her."

"I thought she was with John?"

"She is but he is not going to university."

"How do you know that?"

"Oh, just that I do. It's part of being a mother."

"But she is still going out with John…"

"That changed a couple of weeks ago."

"How do you keep up with all this? New Bern is worse than Payton Place."

"They are our kids. It's part of the job of being a mother. Someone has to keep an eye on them."

"I know… but how? How do you do it?"

"Let's just say New Bern is a small place and everyone knows just about everything about everyone."

"Okay, but this is strange stuff. Do you think they will get back together?"

Allie thought for a moment and said, "I'm not sure they have ever been apart. It's almost as if those two were made for each other from the minute first grade started. It sort of struck me how tender she was back then. She has never lost that touch."

"You remember the oddest stuff."

"Odd to you, not to me. Actually you are the same. Stuff you remember about trees, fishing holes, animal tracks still in use and stories you remember about your father and grandfather are all beyond me. That is why it takes a husband and wife to raise a child."

"Humm, never thought it that way. The sum of the family is based upon the differences between a husband and a wife."

With a smile on her face Allis commended, "For a woodsman you catch on pretty quickly." Then she added in a calm reflecting voice, "I suppose we better support that wayward boy of ours if he is going to marry Lynn."

Noah did not take it calmly. In a fierce whisper he spluttered, "How do you know they are going to get married? Is she pregnant?"

"Be calm Noah and keep your voice down or all the neighbors will know what we are talking about." He calmed down a bit and Allie continued in a matter-of-fact voice, "Of course they will get married. They are made for each other. Like peas and carrots. Just there are a few issues they have to work through."

"Issues? Issues like what?"

"Like Davie needs to start going back out with her."

"What! They're not even dating?

"Not as far as I can tell"

"Then why are we talking about school and marriage… I don't follow you. It's like you are reading your crystal ball again."

"Oh Noah, don't worry, be happy, it will work out in the end. You wait and see. In the meanwhile we need to get Davie registered at university."

After struggling for a bit Noah asked, "Do you think he can do it?"

With confidence in her voice Allie said, "With Lynn at his side he can. She will help him all the way. And I think it is time we headed back to the house to see what damage the kids have been doing in our absence."

Noah knew the conversation was over and his ice cream had vanished. Yep, it was time to go home and figure out the enigma named Davie.

It was the afternoon before Davie was to head off to college that he visited his father in the wood shop. He was working on a leg. The lathe motor was off so he could give the leg a careful inspection.

"Hay Pop, what are you doing?"

"Working on this leg." He we running his hands up and down the leg in the lathe. Davie knew his father was working with oak. Oak has a distinctive smell, a smell Davie liked. Noah was replacing a leg on a stool that had broken a while ago and finally fond the time to fix it. Then he added, "I guess you'll be off tomorrow?" It was a rhetorical question.

"Yep. Me and Lynn will drive over together. Save money that way."

"Good thinking." Noah replied as he studied the wood carefully. He wanted to let his son sweat a bit. "How's Lynn doing? Haven't seen her in ages."

"Oh, she's fine." Was Davies's ambivalent reply. He was struggling for an opening.

"What time you off?"

"Early. We want to get there in one day."

"Good thinking." Noah found a rough patch and started up the lathe again. The motor sped up and Davie was lost in the noise.

Davie tapped his father on the shoulder and ran his finger under his throat: a classic kill the engine sign. When the engine stopped Davie plucked up the courage to carry on. "Dad, do you have a minute."

"Sure son, what do you want?"

"Dad, it's about me and Lynn."

Noah had been expecting this conversation by the way Davie had been acting lately. "Okay, what about you two?"

"Dad, I want to marry Lynn." There Davie had finally said it to someone else besides Lynn. Now it had become official and now he awaited his father's blessing. Of course Noah knew which Lynn Davie was talking about, it was all Allie had been speaking of for ages.

Mindful of his own youthful love for Allie Noah walked up to his son and put a hand on his shoulder. And asked, "Are you sure? Are you really sure?"

"Yes father, I'm sure." Was the reply the son gave his father.

With a smile, "Then I'm happy for you." Then came the most important question, "When do you plan on getting married?"

"We're working on that."

"Don't wait too long. She's a good girl and would want to seal the deal with a ring."

"We want to start college off on the right footing and not loose each other."

Footing was not what Noah was thinking. He knew what young people got up to. Things don't change. A young boy in love with a young girl and living away from home… even if they are in separate dorm rooms. Creativity is still the mother of invention. Rather than go down the birds and bees road Noah tried a frontal move. He crossed his arms, cocked one eye at his son and asked, "Why wait?

"We would like to."

"Not really a stellar answer."

Davie was squirming. The question was something he was asking himself. His internal arguments never produced a satisfactory solution. They were young… yes. They were starting college… yes. They had no money or insurance… yes. All good reasons against getting married. And all the wrong questions to ask. When looking at himself in the mirror, he asked himself the same question over and over again. "Do you love her?" Boiled down to the one simple question the answer was easy to formulate. It was, "Yes." Since the answer was 'yes' then why wait?

That evening, while Davie and Lynn sat in their tree Davie asked Lynn the same questions his father had asked, "Why wait? Like your parents got married when they were nineteen, mine got married quickly once they were back together. If its right why wait?" The one sided conversation was interrupted by some noisy birds landing in the tree and then zooming off once they found love birds already there. Davie continued, "We could get a married housing; they have them at the school."

"I've been thinking like that. I've been thinking if we wait we could loose each other. And I don't want that. If we get married, what if I get pregnant? How would we do then?" Marriage was one thing, having children was another thing. Davie had never thought that far into the future. Lynn continued, "My parents had the first one under a year and so did yours. That pretty much seals the deal."

"We could wait…"

"Oh Davie, I don't think waiting is an option. You know its right. I know its right. Let's face the future together and get married before we leave home."

Davie vaguely remembered a conversation with his father, one they sort of had every year since Davis turned sixteen. Each year Noah would visit with his son and give him the same preparatory talk about growing up. The thrust of the talk was simple, "Between ages sixteen and twenty-two you will do the most radical changing and growing up than any other period in your life. The changes and choices made during this period will make and define you for the rest of your life. Key choices made will be education, career, friends and marriage. Of the four, marriage is the key one as that sets up the next generation." Until now, Davie had not given any thought to the next generation… obviously Lynn was doing that right now.

A leap of faith, taken alone, is a scary proposition. A leap of faith hand-in-hand with someone you love is still scary, but only half as scary. Davie could see the look of earnestness in Lynn's face and knew it was a leap of faith he could do so long as he had Lynn by his side. "Just promises me we don't hide stuff from each other. We face and talk things through?" Lynn nodded. "Okay, where do you want to get married? Your place or mine?" The question of getting married in a church never came up. It was always going to be a family affair. Sine they could not think of a better way to choose, the choice fell to the best out of three games of rock - paper - scissors. Lynn won. That win entered family lore as the first, and by no means the last time, Lynn knew what her husband was thinking.

The Glover's had a modest house so the initial plan was to have the wedding outside under a large tent. The original plan was to have a small family affair which expanded exponentially as no one had the heart to say no to this or that relative or any high school friends: except John. With the wedding so late in the school holidays it rapidly turned in to a final farewell party for the high school graduating class of 1972. Once the size if the project began to be understood Abe called Noah for a serious discussion about the wedding.

"This is big," muttered Abe into his beer as they sat in the corner of Abe's brother-in-law's tavern down by the river. "How the hell -excuse my French- did this get that big? Damn school full of kids. And you know they will all drink too much then the cops will show up and start arresting everyone and that means having to bail everyone out and we will be front page news for weeks."

The bleak picture Abe painted was not how Noah saw it, and said so, "Okay, Abe, yep there will be lots of people but we get the police in first to make sure everyone has a good time and goes home safe before they drink too much."

"Can't do that Noah… Too much stuff out back." Abe had his illegal still close to the house and within easy view of where the tent would be.

"Move it Abe. It's not that big."

"Need a rig to pick it up…"

"So get going. You have time to move it and clean up the area."

"I've expanded a couple of months ago."

"Oh Abe, you didn't? Did you?"

"Couldn't say no. Old man Digger retired and sold me all his stuff"

"Not his big still?" Noah asked already guessing the answer.

"Had to. A real good price."

Now Noah knew the size of the project and looked deep into his half full glass. "We could switch locations but only of the kids agree. If not, you know what you have to do, don't you?"

"What's wrong with a church? Why can't they be like normal people and get married in the church?"

"I didn't."

"You're weird like those two."

"We have a good wedding out at my place. You remember? You came and we had to let you sleep it off outside on the porch…"

"Oh yeah, I remember it now. Good wedding that was."

"It went better after you fell asleep."

With a sheepish grin on his face Abe realized this was all part of the payback he owed Noah. "Okay, I'll get it done. I think I know where I can find a rig or two to help with the move."

"And find a nice quiet place way out in the woods."

The Wedding started at seven in the evening followed by the reception which lasted all night and ended with breakfast at seven in the morning. It was generally acknowledged as one of the best weddings anyone had been to since the old folks left early and the kids took over for a fine time dancing through the night to two good bands. Abe made sure his daughter went off in style. Actually Davie and Lynn fell into bed at nine in the morning and slept most of the day and night away. They were so exhausted from all the festivities, dancing, speeches and paraphernalia associated with the marriage, all they wanted was to rest.

In August 1972 the University of North Carolina at Greensboro became home for Davie and Lynn. They were there for the next six years. The first year of school was hard for both in very different ways. For Davie he realized how his shortsightedness in high school was coming home to roost. Because he never really learned the basics in high school, he was behind from day one. In the evening of day one Davie panicked and it took every skill Lynn had to calm her husband down. He realized how unprepared he was for university level classes, study and homework. Throughout the fall semester Lynn was pulling double duty. She had her own studies and then had to sit with her handicapped husband and go through all his class work. Davie was not stupid, he just needed to be pointed in the right direction and encouraged to get going. By the end of the fall semester he was slowly getting the hang of things. Over Christmas break Lynn told Davie she was, as predicted, pregnant and due in June. Davie graduated in four years while they needed an additional two years for Lynn to graduate. When they left school they had two boys and were ready to make some real money.

During his last semester Davie interviewed heavily as the school was known for producing fine financial graduates. Lynn had him scrubbed, combed and dressed in a conservative suit and tie. The interviewer was usually scanning the his resume when he walked in to the interview room. When the interviewer looked up the look degenerated rapidly to one of consternation. A port wine stain is not exactly conducive for a good first impression. Davie did not receive any second interviews. After graduation Davie was fortunate to be employed by the university. He worked in their financial group for the next two years while Lynn completed her nursing degree.

Davie was fortunate to have an immediate supervisor that told it like it is. It was during their first meeting that Bill asked, "How many people have you scared away with that face?"

Davie's defenses went up and it showed. His gruff answer said it all, "I don't know what you mean?"

"Listen son, you have the face of an angel what has blood poured all over it. We deal with people and how do you think they are going to react when they see your face?"

"They will see past that…"

"Not initially," cut in Bill. "They see you face first and their opinion of you starts there. Don't get all soft on me son. We have a job to do and we have to figure out where best to put you so we can get it done in a professional manner."

"I want to be out front."

"And do what?"

"Work with people."

"You know what we do?"

Davie hesitated and said, "Not really."

"Then how the hell are you going to help anyone?" Bill had seen this all too often as the university usually hired one or two graduating kids as they were cheap and had a strong reason to hang about. Bill hated deflating these green-horn kids so early in their career. Better to knock reality into them at the first meeting than let them get a big head full of fluff and stuff. Bill pressed the intercom and yelled at a kid named Jamie to get his rear into his office. When Jamie entered Bill pointed and him and said to Davie, "This here is Jamie. He is dam good at what he does and what he does ain't much. You are going to be his shadow for the next three months. You will ask him every silly question you can possibly think of. Jamie will report to me every stupid question you ask. If you drop below fifty questions a day you will be fired. Understand?"

Davie was not used to being talked to like that… ever. The real world can be a cruel taskmaster. With a look of surprise on his ashen face he forced out, "Yes sir, I got it."

"Dam good… now get out, both of you. You Davie better start asking all those stupid questions on the stupid stuff you had been stupidly taught here." With that Bill stuck a foul smelling pipe in his mouth and proceeded to light it.

Out in the corridor Jamie asked, "You knew here?"

"First day."

"Figured. You do realize it's downhill from here?"

"You're kidding," Davie said more than a touch of surprise in his voice.

"Nope. People like Bill put in forty hours a week while you and I will be doing sixty hours."

"What?"

"Didn't they teach you anything? A degree says you can think. It didn't say you knew anything. Now you have to pay the piper and start learning real world stuff. Like exactly what we do. And that takes time to learn. This place isn't paying you to learn on their time, that is why you put in your own time."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Welcome to the real word of being a financial whiz kid. If you ain't willing to put in the time we can find plenty other kids that are. It's dog eat dog about here and you are at the bottom of the food chain." Then Jamie asked, "What happened to your face?"

"Born with it."

"Shit, no wonder Bill ain't happy with you. He want you out and that's why."

"What?"

"Look about the place, what do you see? White males between 5'-6" to 6'-2", clean shaven, suites and blue ties, all looking roughly the same. All in the image of boss Bill. And then there is you. You are not in that image and Bill would be looking at tossing you out at the three month interview. So the question is, what are you going to do to prevent that from happening? How hare are you going to listen, learn and toe the line?"

"Shit!"

"Welcome to the world of shysters." They carried on walking down the corridor down the stairs and into the basement and on to the back of the basement. "Welcome to the rat hole." Jamie said as he opened the door into a small room with two desks. "This is where I sit and that is your spot. Or it will be once you clean it up." Davie looked around with dismay. The place really was a rat hole in every sense of the word. "Its home for you and me until we can get something better." With that Jamie reached and picked up a manila envelope and tossed it at Davie. "In there are all the known stupid questions asked over the past several years. From now on that is your copy. Left to you by the last idiot who took your job. He was fired after six months because he stopped asking stupid questions. He thought Bill was joking about asking fifty stupid questions a day. If you remember, I have to report on your questions, so if you don't ask, my report gets very thin. I'm here to help not babysit you. Understand?" Glumly Davie nodded. This was not what he expected when he took the job.

Later that evening Bill picked up the telephone and called his old friend Lon Hammond. They went back a long way and still did a round of golf once or twice a year when Lon was in town. Lon had helped Bill out of a spot of bother several years ago and gently reminded Bill of the favor and asked if he would interview young Davie Calhoun as a personal favor. Just the interview, nothing else and all would be even.

Davie's face grated on Bill. All types of disfigurations did. He liked running a tight ship of people who would, one day, move on to become captains of businesses and industry. The perfect image of his captains was the one he saw every morning in the mirror. Davie did not fit that image. Since it was Lon that generously asked for assistance in this very small matter, Bill knew there was more to it than met the eye. And that is why Bill, against his standards of perfection, forced a smile on his face and hired Davie. "Hi Lon, how are you doing this evening?"

Lon's mellow voice came back with, "Thank you for asking, I'm doing fine. And you?"

"All is okay this end. I just called to inform you that I did hire young Davie Calhoun. An excellent candidate for the position. So glad you pointed him my way. I think he will fit in quite nicely"

Lon chuckled and said, "You are full of it Bill. This is Lon, your old friend. I appreciate you looking at young Davie. And I knew looking at his face will be hard on you. However, I promise you you will not regret picking him up. I think he will go on to important places because you gave him a chance and helped him get started."

Bill watched as the writing appeared on the wall. It was remarkably clear to read who will be behind young Davie Calhoun and his very successful career.