Installment #20 Kevin and Greg

Installment #20

Kevin and Greg

Kevin merged into the I 25 North  and quickly set the cruise control on 75 mph.  They would catch I 80 West in Cheyenne.  It might be a bit out of the way mileage wise, but it would cut almost 2 hours off the trip.  “OK, Greg.  What is eating you?  You been all tied up since yesterday.  You might just as well spit it out!”

“Ok, Kevin.  Are you buying that crock about your mom building a fortress of her house just cause she is getting old?  She is not that old and I am pretty sure she can take care of herself.  Something is going on there that she isn’t telling you, and I don’t like it.”  He waited for a response and when none came he forged on, “ Why didn’t we walk up the mountain?  There are trails up there.  I seen them, but she was like a little frightened rabbit when I suggested that.  Did you notice?”   He stopped and this time waited for an answer.

“Well, yeah.  We used to hike up there a lot.  Maybe there are more houses up there now and it is private property.  Or it is rattlesnake season when they shed their skin and they are blind and can’t get out of our way.  That’s how people get bit by those Timber Rattlers.”  He stopped and looked at Greg.  He needed more.  He sounded like a little kid.  “Alright!  Alright!  I don’t know what is going on and I am sure there is more than she is telling us, but what can I do?  They outlawed the tying up and grilling of Mothers a very long time ago.  I am sure she will be alright and she will do what needs to be done and if something or someone is threatening her, she will handle it.  She is a big girl.”

Greg sighed.  “Well, I really like your mom and I hope you are right.  I wish she had some closer neighbors.  Do you know any of them?  Can they check on her?”

“Gee, Greg, people move to the mountains to be alone.  I know the handyman she uses a little.  We always called him ‘that silly old Fred’.  He has been up the mountain for years.  I think he still has the same old pickup that he had when I was living at home, but maybe not.  We always thought he was married and his wife left him and his son moved away, but seems like that was just a rumor.  Never been married.  Never had a kid.  Guess the only rumor that held any water was that his dad had killed his mother and hid her body in the root cellar.  I think he is scared of root cellars.  Oh, yeah and women.  Seems he was an only child.  But I don’t know if he even has a phone.  Sure he doesn’t do the Internet!”

They fell into a restless silence as they thought about Meg and the miles whipped past.  They stopped in Cheyenne for a rest stop before getting on I 80.  They  bought  a cappuccino and a bag of  Fritoes.  When they returned to the car, Greg took the wheel.

They enjoyed the scenery and sipped the hot cappuccinos.  Meg was never very far from their minds, but they could not think of a way to protect her when they had no idea what to protect her from.

Installment #19 Sunday morning

Sunday morning

Meg quickly made a large blender full of her smoothie recipe.  Blue Berries, yogurt,
Coconut milk, a fresh peach and wheat germ.  She poured it into 3 glasses, put them on a tray beside the scones and carried them to the patio.  The boys were intent on watching the sun creeping up over the horizon.

“See, Greg.  It is not at all like California.  Even the colors are different.  And see how quick it pops up?  Not like California at all.”

“No, but that is because of the humidity, the colors I mean.  Colorado is dry.  So the colors are more muted and more reds and oranges.  California has humidity so they appear brighter and there are more greens and blues.  Ask anyone.  Google it.  And it pops up because the mountains are there.  California is flat. So it goes down real slow.”  They turned and looked at Meg as if seeking a final opinion.

“Yep” was all she said as she picked up her glass, a scone and settled down in the cushioned chair facing the sunrise.  “This is one of the things that keeps me here on this place,  right here at the foot of the Rockie Mountains.  Heaven on earth.  Just ask the chickens.”  As if on cue the Rhode Island Red Rooster announced to the world that it was now morning, albeit a bit late.  They all laughed.
As Kevin set his empty glass back on the tray and dusted the crumbs off his shirt, he turned to Meg with a very serious look on his face.  “Now, mom, you should know how it is with Kevin and I.  We have decided to move in together.  We have actually found a house we like that is convenient to both of our jobs.  When we get back we are going to list his house and I have money from my last home sale, so we are in good shape.”  As an afterthought he added, “ The pub does really well.  Especially in this economy.”

Meg digested this little announcement and then smiled.  “Well, this is great!  I mean really.  If one of you were a female, I could throw an engagement party!”  She laughed, but the boys did not.  “Ok, that is not what I meant to say.  What I meant is this,  I am very happy for both of you.  I know better than most how hard real love is to come by and I think you two make a great couple.  It is a shame that society can not accept, but I think someday they will.  Until then, we will just celebrate here at home and I probably will not announce it in church today.  Hey!  Let’s just skip church this morning and go into town and celebrate with a lovely lunch!”  Church would keep, but Kevin and Greg would not.  They would leave early in the morning and she was selfish.

Greg spoke first.  “Meg, you will always have a home with us.  You are not loosing a son, you are gaining one.”

Tears welled up in Meg’s eyes as she silently thanked her God for bringing this kind soul into her son’s life.

Installment #18 Meg, Kevin, Greg

Meg, Kevin, Greg

The walk had been a long one.  The only jogged a little of the 4 miles.  The conversation was easy and Meg and Greg warmed to each other.  The Green Chile was simmering in the crock pot and when they returned to the house the spicy aroma greeted them.  They were immediately ravenous.  Meg heated the refried beans and the tortillas.  She spooned the beans into the tortilla, sprinkled it with grated cheddar cheese, spooned on sour cream and rolled it up.  She ladled a generous amount of the Green Chile over it, put a little chopped lettuce on the plate and handed it to Greg.  She quickly made a plate for Kevin and herself.  They sat at the table and looked at the steaming plates.

“OK, Greg, dig in!”  Kevin laughed.  He had told Greg what Green Chile was and now he was seeing it first hand.  Brown the small bits of pork, add garlic, tomatoes,  the Pueblo Chiles chopped and then water.   Simmer and the longer it simmered the hotter it would get.  Greg had heard about the Pueblo Chiles, but this was his first encounter with the food that was such a part of Kevin’s heritage in Colorado.  He dipped his spoon in gingerly and raised it to his mouth.  He felt the top of his head bead up with the heat of something he had never encountered before.  Tears stung his eyes.  He gasped for breathe.

“What in the hell is that!”  Meg and Kevin stared in amazement.  Never had they seen the likes of this out of quiet retiring Greg.  Kevin stammered.

“Oh, I am sorry.  I told you it would be hot.  That is the peppers.  Mom?”

“Greg, dear, this is not hot.  This is mild.  I did not want your first taste of Colorado
Mexican food to be a bad one.  Here.  Do it this way.”  She took her spoon and cut off a small piece of burrito and covered it with Green Chile.  She put it in her mouth, chewed and smiled.  “ You just don’t eat the Green Chile alone. Let me get you a glass of milk.  That will help.”  She left the table and returned with a large glass of milk which she placed in front of him.  He immediately took a drink of it.

Then he smiled at Kevin and Meg.  “ I am not going to let a damn pepper beat me.  If you can eat it, I can eat it. “  He then cut off a small piece as Meg had done and shook off most of the Chile.  In his mouth and he chewed slowly.  “Hey, that ain’t bad at all.  But I gotta say, you two are a couple sadists!”  But very soon he was holding his plate and heading for the stove and a second burrito!  Kevin smiled and silently thanked the God above for leading him into Your Little Pub  that rainy day not so very long ago.  If ever a match was blessed from above it had to be this one.  Meg smiled at her son and nodded.  Mother’s just had a way of knowing this stuff.

When dessert was brought to the table Kevin whooped jumped up.  “Oh, Greg!  You are in for a treat.  This is the Italian part of Colorado.  Tiramusu.  Mom!  Tell him how to make it.  Oh, God are you in for a treat.”
                                                                    
Meg stared at her son.  “Ok, the first thing you need is Lady Fingers and they are dry.  Then you mix coffee with Kahlua.  Meanwhile you whip heavy whipping cream with sugar and egg yolks.  Then you fold in Marscapone cheese which is a lot like cream cheese only it is from Italy and very expensive.  Then you dip the Lady Fingers in the coffee and Kahlua and put them in the bottom of the pan.  One layer of that.  Then cover this with the whipped cream mixture.  Then another layer of Lady Fingers and more whipped cream.  Then sprinkle on some cocoa.  Stick it in the fridge and then impress everyone for dessert.” 

“Oh, yeah,” laughed Kevin, “but you should have seen it the first time she made it.  She thought the Lady Fingers were really dry so she held them under until they quit bubbling.  She had to mix coffee and Kahlua three times and she used almost a quart of Kahlua!  I was 16 and so damn drunk I couldn’t even get up the stairs.  Everybody was!  We ate the whole thing that night.  Way to go Mom!”

Greg smiled as he held out his dessert plate for seconds.  “Guess you must be part Italian too!”
The boys tidied the kitchen as Meg checked her email   Nothing from redranger.   She felt a little disappointed, but knew that he was giving her space to spend time with Kevin.  He was very considerate that way.  She had three sales, so she printed the labels for those, affixed them to the boxes, shut down the computer  and turned out the light.  As she closed the door to the office and stepped into the hall, she found Kevin and Greg sharing a kiss.  She stopped and then realized that this did not bother her.  She had been afraid that it would, but now that the moment was here it seemed ludicrous that she had even thought about it.  She smiled to herself.

“Hey you two!  It is bedtime.”  The boys jumped apart at her words and laughed nervously.  She kissed each one lightly on the cheek and then turned into her own room.  There would just be tomorrow and then they would leave.  “Church tomorrow.  You boys going with me?”

“Well, if you think it is alright.”

“Of course it is!”  But as she closed her door she wondered.  “At least I hope it is .“ were her last thoughts before she reached for her night gown.

Installment #17

Him

He fingered his scar as he watched from his roost.  The little fag boy was there with his little fag friend.  Meg was happy to see them.  She hugged them both.  Both of them!  Not just her son.  He could have forgiven that, but both of them.  Like that was her daughter in law.  Couldn’t she see how wrong that was?  They were both men, for God’s sake!  He could see that Kevin was going to have to meet with something bigger than life.  Maybe on the way back home.  San Francisco was a lot of miles and a lot could happen.  Or maybe when he got home there would be a very big earthquake.  Yes!  God had his way of dealing with these people.

Oh, and now there was that jerk from up North to deal with.  Life had sure been simple before he managed to sync his computer with hers and become part of her network.  He could not believe his eyes when he saw the redranger invite himself to Denver and then ask her to join him.  He was aghast when she accepted.  Was she a common trollop?  She was actually going to meet that man in Denver.  That Eldon.  Where?  Who knew.  Probably his motel room.  Well, that would happen over somebody’s dead body.  And it was not going to be his.

He reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out the salve that he kept there for just that use.  This had some sort of Novocain or something in it that numbed it just enough to make the pain bearable.  As he rubbed it he thought back to that summer night on the river.  They were knee deep in mud in the heart of Viet Cong territory.  It was a stealth operation as they crept closer to the big paddle boat.  He could hear them laughing and they seemed to be passing something around.  No doubt it was some sort of liquor because they were normally more vigilant than they were tonight.  The first soldier reached the barge, pulled the pin on the grenade and heaved it over the side.  The concussion was instantaneous and more than they expected.  As the Viet Cong were thrown in the air, so was he.  He learned later that he had landed face down on an iron piling.  His eye was gone.  His face a mess of an open wound from his left eyebrow to his right jawbone.  The doctors talked of reconstruction, and did the best they could, but they were not experienced at this sort of thing.  By the time he was stateside it was apparent that it was just something he would live with.  Viet Nam was not a popular war.

He had mustered out in Wichita, Kansas of all places.  By this time he was used to the stares, but not ready for what lay ahead.  Mom, Dad and Jeffery had met him at the station and returned him to Tulsa, Oklahoma where they were living at the time.  Dad was a banking consultant so he moved around a lot.  Oklahoma had some great catfish and Dad did like to fish so what better way to live than doing what he liked?

 Dad and Jeffery had looked at his face and studied it.  Then it was accepted and they went to the next subject.  Not Mom.  She had recoiled.  She had stared.  She had lost her voice.  She did not touch him.  His own mother did not want to touch him.  He massaged his scar and thought of her.  He hated her.  He had left Oklahoma and when he shook the Oklahoma red dirt off his boots, he shook his mother off also.  He kept in touch with Dad and Jeffery, but just barely.  When mom died he did not go home for the funeral.  And he was not very surprised when Dad found some woman and retired in Vermont.  Little town called Brattleboro.  Jeffery had drifted away and he had let him.  He needed no one.  He wanted Meg, but he did not need her.  He had thought once that he needed his mother, but that was a wasted thought.  That was when he was a needy little boy, but that little boy was gone long ago.

He leaned forward as the door opened and Meg, Kevin and Greg came out followed by the dogs.  He knew by the knap sack that they were going for a walk or run or maybe a little of both.  He had watched Meg and Kevin in California so he knew the routine.  Course Greg would be a health nut like Kevin.  That was alright.  Just so they stayed in California and left Meg alone out here.  He could spare a few days.  What was a few more days when he had already waited over 3 years?  He had never been very good with the ladies.  Never learned the fine art of  wooing and winning one of the fair sex.  Fair sex?  He snorted.  Bitches every one.  His mother first and the way she had always fawned over Jeffery.  No “atta boys” for him.  Do this and do that, but no “thank you, son.”  Not from her or the old man.  He remembered suddenly, like a misty memory from way back in the deepest recesses of his mind coming home from school and running into the kitchen.  His mother was there and so was the neighbor man.  Forgot his name.  He remembered his mother being red in her face and the neighbor man fumbling with his overalls.  Funny smell.  He had learned things since that day and he knew what his mother was.

He thought of the girls in high school.  He was a jock and the girls hung around the field.  After the game on Friday night there was always a party and always one of the girls wanting to spread her legs and think it was love.  Love!  He spat.  No way.  If he ever fell in love it would not be with one of those sluts.  It would be with a woman the direct opposite of his mother.  A woman who held herself above the fray and tumult of every day living.  A woman who emitted a light, like the one he saw when he looked at the Virgin Mary.  That one.  And when they consummated on the wedding night she would hold very still.  That would be her duty.  And of course, she would conceive that night and they would not have to do that again until they wanted another baby.  He would cherish her.  They would talk about things like his work.  The house would be spotless.  The child would be perfect and never cry.

He realized that the threesome and the dogs had rounded the bend in the road and were now out of sight.  He let himself drift for a moment thinking of Meg Jakson and dreaming of what their life would be like.  He envisioned her standing in the door of the cabin in a very pale blue dress.  There was lace at the throat.  The hem fell well below her knees.  She wore sturdy shoes.  And an apron of gingham.  Oh, and a plate of cookies.  She knew he liked cookies.  How did she always manage to have a plate of fresh cookies when she never knew when he was coming home?  She was wonderful.  Everything he had hoped she would be. She stared at him like he was her complete world.  Her eyes were wet like she was about to cry because she was so full of love for him that it was overwhelming.  And he kissed her lightly on the forehead.  His world was perfect.  And the best part was that she was past the child bearing years so they did not need to do the dirty, despicable act to procreate.  They did not need a child to make their world complete; they had each other.

With this vision in his mind he climbed down from his perch, checked the limbs at the base of the tree, took the 7 steps to the opening, stepped inside and hurried back to his cabin.  He secured the door behind himself.  He opened a can of Campbell’s Bean and Bacon soup and put it on to heat.  He made a cold Ham sandwich.  He ate at the table with a small glass of red wine.  He was nothing if not civilized at all times.  Then he opened the refrigerator and took out his bottle of Scotch.  It was the one vice he allowed himself and only here and only when he was ready for bed.  He dropped 4 ice cubes in a tumbler and splashed the Scotch over them.  He swirled the glass as he put on his pajama’s.
 
Then he sat in his recliner and leaned back at a 45 degree angle with his feet elevated so he could just see the felted gray slippers.  He sipped the drink as he let images flit through his mind.  Meg in her flannel night gown.  Meg lying quietly on her side of the bed.  Meg with her hungry eyes looking at him.  Of course he had on his cotton pin striped pajama’s.  He took her hand because this was how they usually slept.  He realized how soft her hand was.  For some reason unknown even to him, he kissed her fingertips.  Her eyes flew open in surprise.  He had never made a gesture like this in the three months they had been together.  He sat bolt upright in the recliner and his feet hit the floor.  My God!  What was he thinking?  Was he wanting to have sex with her?  Sex!  Sex with a woman?  Sex with Meg?

He ran to the bathroom and retched.  His stomach spasmed until there was nothing left to  lose.  He must not think like this.  But if not that, then what did he want?  Did he want to spend the next 30 or 40 years of his life lying in bed with a woman and never touching her?  That was not realistic.  Could he do it without seeing his mother and farmer Brown grunting in the kitchen.  He must think.   Yes, he must think and have a plan, but not tonight.  It frightened him too much.  He climbed into bed and curled into a fetal position and cried himself to sleep.

Installment #16

Meg

Meg signed in to her email account and was rewarded with a note from redranger.  “Meg, I have news.  I will be in Denver next week and I would love to meet you.  Can you free up some time for me?”

Well, that was not at all what she expected.  They had decided early in the correspondence that they would be friends and neither one wanted entanglements. Was Eldon changing the rules?  She was tempted to act like she had not received the email, but then thought better of it.  Eldon was moody and knew how much time she spent on the computer.  She decided that honesty was the best course in this case.  So she hit the reply button.

“ Are you changing the rules?  I thought this was going to be Internet Only.”

“I thought so too, but this opportunity has come up there in Denver and it seems rude to not meet you since I will be that close and I will have time on my hands.  Nothing serious, just a cup of coffee on the fly.  We are friends aren’t we?  We have fun together on the net, we could surely have a few laughs in a coffee house.”

Meg chuckled.  Of course he was right.  What was she afraid of anyway?  It wasn’t like it was a lifetime commitment.  It was a lousy cup of coffee.  “You are right.  But when?  My son is coming for a few days and I don’t want to run off and leave him.”

“I will be there next Thursday, the 15th and not leave until the following Wednesday.  When will Kevin be there?  I don’t want to step on his toes.”

“Kevin will be here tomorrow and will leave Monday, so that is good.”  She flushed at the thought of meeting a real live man.  Eldon had intrigued her from the first email and now she wondered just what would be bringing him to Denver.  But that would wait.  “Are you flying into Denver?”
“Sure am.  Got a rental car thing so I have transportation.  This is going to be great, Meg.  Oh, gotta run.  We will talk next week.”  And he was gone.  He certainly was a man of few words.

Meg headed to the kitchen to make a batch of cookies before Kevin and Greg arrived in the morning.  The pork was in the meat drawer so the Green Chile could be made in short order.  She had gotten Kevin’s email and knew that Greg ran a pub and was a chef so she wanted it to be good.  It would be, but not the gourmet stuff that Greg did.  She took a deep breathe and vowed that this would be a very pleasant weekend.  Two days was not long, but it was all the boys could spare.  It was an 18 hour drive so they would be tired.  But they would split the driving so maybe not.

As she emptied the last cookie sheet she realized that she was very tired .  As she climbed the stairs she thought about all the bars on the windows and doors.  Well, Kevin would know now.  Well, not everything.  She would tell him she was just getting old and wanting to feel secure.  Surely he could understand that.  She was living out here all alone.  She suddenly remembered the tree and the perfect view that it afforded to her home.  Was that just something bizarre or what?  Why would anyone watch her?

But her last thought as she lay in her bed before sleep over took her was not of the tree, or the path, or any of that stuff.  It was of redranger and a man named Eldon that she would meet in less than a week.  Sweet dreams tonight as angel wings swept over her bringing blissful sleep.

 

Installment #15

Kevin and Greg

“Greg!  You are as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof.  She is my mother, for crying out loud, not the Queen of England!”  Kevin laughed as he caught Greg around the waist and planted a big one near his eye.  Then they both laughed.  This was going to be fun.  They were driving to Colorado this weekend and work was far away.  This was a weekend to just cut loose and enjoy life.

“Well, that is easy enough for you because she is your mother.  What if she doesn’t like me?  Have you thought of that?”  Greg threw a sweater at the suitcase.

“No.  Why wouldn’t she like you?  Besides I am going to be the one living with you, not her.”  He stood behind Greg at the mirror and met his eyes.  He smiled.  “Damn!  Don’t we make a great couple?”  Then as an after thought, “ You take the wheel the first hundred and then we will switch.  Where are we stopping for breakfast?  I am already hungry.”

Greg reached for the keys and picked up the suitcase with the other hand.  “You did call her, didn’t you?  She does know we are coming?”

“Of course and she is making a big pot of Green Chile for you, white boy!  Mom is a  great cook!”

 Kevin pulled the door shut and heard the lock catch.  They hurried down the sidewalk to the drive and the car, ready for a big adventure like the overgrown kids they were.

Installment #14

Him

He parked the Jeep Cherokee close to the cabin door.  He thought briefly what a beautiful afternoon it was and then grabbed his Laptop and  the sack and hurried inside.  Setting his load on the table he hurried into the kitchen.  He opened the small door beside the door that led to the root cellar  and peered inside.  It was dark and very quiet.  He took the flash light off the shelf and pushed the button to turn it on.  Light flooded the tunnel and he moved quickly forward.  He had been in town for almost the whole week and a lot can change in a few days.  He must see.  The fruit loop who dug this for him had done a great job and he reached the forest very quickly.  He pushed sideways on the lid that covered the opening and it slid away easily.  He stepped up the two steps into the clearing.  Leaving the opening he hurried forward to his tree.  Three steps up and one over and he was in his place.

He reached high in the branches and caught hold of the telescope that he stored there.  He put it to his eye, turned a knob and gazed at the small farm below.  Meg was just coming out of the walk in refrigerator. She had gathered the eggs for the day.   Oh, the joy of good luck.  He watched her lithe frame as she walked to the house.  She had to be the most beautiful woman in the world.  And she was his.  All his.  He loved to watch her when she did not know he was there.  Something erotic about the act and he vaguely wondered if it would be the same when she was in his arms.  A country song came to mind “Who Are You When I’m Not Lookin?”  “My oh, my you’re so good lookin’.  Held together like a pair of book ends.  Something something.”  Some idiot singer.  He tittered to himself.  Soon.

When she went into the house he surveyed the work that had been done there while he was gone.  Looked very secure.  Looks were deceiving.  There was not a lock or a bar that would keep him from her world.  He would simply have her invite him in.  Yes, that was best.  Just how to make it happen may prove a challenge at first, but not an insurmountable one that was for sure.  “Where there is a will there is a way.” he thought to himself as he felt the key that dangled from a string around his neck.  If worst came to worst, he would just unlock the door and walk inside.
He replaced the telescope in the niche in the back of the tree trunk and hurried down the self made ladder to the ground.  He noticed the ground was getting a little trampled at the base of the tree.  He found a few loose branches and tossed them there.  Looked a lot better.   He hurried to his tunnel, stepped inside and twisted the cover in place.  Soon he stepped out into his kitchen.  Home.  Yes, Home Sweet Home.

Installment #13

Fred

Fred frowned as he hung up the phone.  Damn pesky woman.  What was she so afraid of anyway?  If any body was small enough to get in that doggie door, they were sure as hell too little to hurt any body and the dogs could eat them in two bites.  He held the Hershey can in his left hand as he placed the phone back on the wall with his right.  He was not ready to let this one go.  For some reason this one was special.

Usually the money went into a hole in the yard as soon as he had the time to dig the hole, but he wanted to keep this one for a while.  People would think he was nuts if they knew.  Well, what was nuts about keeping money in cans at home?  Made a lot more sense than handing it over to one of the twits at the bank who would put it in a drawer and give it out to other people.  It was his and they should not have his money.  They had explained to him that every month he would get a total of how much he had, much like the account his dad had set up for him.  Only that was once a year.  He had to go in and set across the big mahogany desk from some white haired old fart who droned on about the investments and the check he got every month and how wonderful his father had been to do this.  Like he was a simpleton!

How much was in that account his dad still controlled from the grave?  He did not remember.  More than when it started.  He snorted.  Some day the state of Colorado was going to get a shit pot full of money, courtesy of Fred Himes, Jr. via Fred Himes, Sr.  He really should leave a note about the cans in the yard, but why?  They were his.  Earned by the sweat of his brow.  If he wanted to bury them he could.  He could burn that money if he so chose, but no, he had made a memorial to his god, who ever that was.  Apparently, it was the almighty dollar.  No, because money had never brought him any happiness either.  It was the memory of where the money came from.  Like the $16,450 that was the money for the  big barn he had built for that gimp legged guy over the draw east of him.

Then there was $19,000 from that scar faced guy just North of Meg’s farm.  Now that was crazy. Dug a tunnel from his root cellar straight west  to the edge of the forest.  Well, dug a trench, covered it with planks and then dirt.  Nobody knew it was there.  Well, he knew.  And the scar faced guy knew.  Seemed like a damn waste of money to him.  No equipment!  No one must know.  Ok, fella, what ever you say.  Wonder where he got that big scar?  It was a gruesome looking thing for sure.  Ran from above his left eye, well where his left eye used to be, across his cheek and mouth to his right jawbone.  What ever it was sure had to have hurt.  Didn’t bother Fred, though.  He looked past stuff like that yet he couldn’t help but wonder.  Guy was a definite loner.  Or seemed to be.  But he did go into Denver several times a week.  Sometimes he stayed there.  Fred knew cause they shared the road in and out.  Funny that he did not seem to have a name.  No mail box either.

Fred sat deep in thought at the kitchen table as he stroked the Hershey can.  His eyes stared into the darkness of the forest.  But he did not see the trees or the tiny forest creatures.  He saw his mother.  His mother in her pretty red dress and her white patent leather shoes.  He saw the slash of bright red lipstick on her mouth and heard her laugh.  He heard the radio playing a lively tune.  “Come here, Freddie, come dance with Momma!  Make Momma happy!”  And he rose and followed her to the middle of the wooden kitchen floor.  As much as he tried not to, he would always love his Momma.  A tear slid slowly down his cheek and was lost in his beard.