Read an Excerpt
KINGMAN - 1971
Part II: The Boogeyman
By Gary Reeves
Trafford Publishing
Copyright © 2011 Gary Reeves
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4269-5577-8
Chapter One
THE BOOGEYMAN
Sam watched from Brent's room while Anna and Jamaica walked toward the stables then turned his head to watch Doc remove a stitch from Brent's side. Elaine busily prepared a large syringe of antibiotics, before injecting it into the I.V. Sweat immediately began pouring from Brent's body.
"Little sting." Doc warned Brent, as he cleaned the area of the large wound in the young mans side.
"It makes me want to pee." Brent complained, "When can I take a shower?"
"I hope it's soon." Doc replied, "You can probably take a bath in a few days."
"Shower Doc." Brent argued, "I want a shower."
"Hold still." Doc ordered, "You wiggle worse now than you did when you were 6. You'll be too weak to stand in a shower."
"Okay." Brent acknowledged and tried to lie still, "This stuff you guys are giving me makes me sweat. I feel like crap."
"Talk to Phil, or complain to Brenda." Doc retorted, "But if you want to get married on Sunday, I advise you do what we tell you and let us be the doctors."
"What are you doing here, Dad?" Brent yawned, "Am I that sick?"
"You're pretty sick." Sam replied trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
"I hate this crap." Brent complained, "It makes me so damned tired. I just woke up a few minutes ago."
"You're home, Brent. You don't have to fight the medicine." Sam told him softly, "Just go with it and get some rest."
"Is Jake okay?" Brent worried, "How can I protect Jake?"
"The medicine's made him just a little irritable Sam." Elaine told him while preparing another syringe.
"Jake's worried about you." Sam told him, "Mom took her for a walk. I give you my word I'll make sure she's protected and taken good care of. Kuba's with her and your mother right now."
"What the hell am I doing to her Dad?" Brent asked, "I feel like I'm saddling her with an invalid. Maybe I should call the wedding off."
"Maybe you should," Sam agreed, "If that's what you really want to do."
"I don't want to do that." Brent sighed, "I love her."
"I know." Sam replied.
"I just worry I'm not good enough for her." Brent confessed, "What if this kind of thing keeps happening? What if I get crazy and tell her stupid things? What if I hurt her? I wouldn't ever do a thing like that on purpose, but ..."
"I know what you mean." Sam assured him and wiped the sweat from his face and neck while saying, "Sometimes we say things we don't mean. It's all part of it. They don't just see us when we're at our best. If we're lucky enough to have someone like your mother or Jake, they remind us we're not the big shots we think we are. They married us for who we are, not what the world thinks. I guess they see something in us no one else does, including ourselves. I'm awfully glad your Mom's around to remind me I'm not Big Sam Kingman. I'm just Sam to her; the guy she loves and cares for, especially when this kind of thing happens. Jake's that kind too. They're rare gems. I think the hardest thing I ever had to accept was that your mother's a lot stronger than I am. I don't say it a lot; but it's true."
"Excuse me, Sam." Brenda said politely and looked Brent over carefully before telling him, "We're going to put you to sleep for a little while sweet prince."
"You're awfully pretty, Aunt Brenda." Brent sighed, as she pushed the contents of a syringe into his arm, "Do you want to marry me?"
"The answer's the same as it was when you were 4." Brenda replied with a warm smile while taking his pulse, "I'm already taken. Besides, she's a lot younger and prettier than I am."
"Yeah!" Brent exclaimed, trying to keep his eyes open, "She means everything to me you know?"
"Yes I do." Brenda answered while checking the area where the needle penetrated his arm.
He soon turned his head to the side and closed his eyes while saying, "Don't let the boogeyman get me, Daddy."
"I won't." Sam said and patted his hand.
"He's a little loaded, Sam." Brenda told him, "He should sleep for several hours. He's pretty sick."
"Shouldn't we have him in the hospital?" Sam worried.
"Yes, we should." Brenda replied, "But I don't want anyone to know what we're treating him with. Right now he needs her a lot more than a hospital. So I guess that leaves it up to us. You were right, he was involved in some really classified work after his first year. Phil should have the details when he gets back. He just called."
"Is Jake in danger?" Sam asked with concern.
"I don't think so." Brenda replied, "He was pretty crafty about the way he talked about things. They had their own little language, written and oral, for communicating personal things? It took me a pretty good while to figure it all out. They'd been communicating that way for a long time before he left. I believe it's part of the stuff she hasn't figured out that he wrote. You can thank the kicks to the side of her head for that."
"Love finds a way." Sam shrugged.
"Love finds a way." Brenda agreed with a smile and admonished, before leaving the room, "Keep the boogeyman away from him, Sam; he's a good boy."
Chapter Two
JENNIFER
Sam walked over to the filing cabinet and opened the top drawer. He was surprised to find it full of 9 by 12 pads filled with sketches, all neatly arranged by month and year dating back to the time Brent was only 7 years old. He had always thought Jennifer a source of irritation to Brent, but quickly learned she was more a source of fascination. The style in the early pictures was clearly similar to both Sam and Anna's, but by the time he was 13 he had developed a style of his own that somehow made the images come to life. It had a depth evoking feeling and expressing emotion. Once he developed his own style, he redid several of the first drawings and began exploring his memories.
Jamaica seemed to be incidental in earlier drawings of Jennifer, Anna, Carol and Alicia. Sam spotted a pad with 'Sadness' written on the cover in bold block letters, took it out and opened it. The very first picture showed Carol and Ken's agony over the loss of their daughters, so well, it took his breath away. A little note was scribbled in the corner he had a hard time reading through the tears in his eyes. The next several pages were devoted to the tiny children. The final drawing showed Ken and Carol holding each other while two little angels looked down on them from a cloud. He had drawn the picture in June 1963. It finally occurred to him what the note had said, 'I just want to see them happy again.'
Sam had always thought Brent was too young to understand the depth of the pain of those times, but quickly learned it had a profound effect on him. Another picture showed Anna taking care of Sam when he came down with pneumonia a few months after he had gotten home from Korea. Brent managed to show her exhaustion and Sam's pain. A frightened little boy sat on the foot of the bed obviously wondering if his Dad were going to die and whether or not he had caused him to get sick. Remembering the pain of the ordeal, Sam rubbed his side where the most pain had been. There were other drawings in the pad; scenes of sorrow and confusion, often evoking a myriad of feelings and emotions. The title had been correct, 'Sadness.'
"The sketches you're looking for are in the bottom drawer." Jennifer suddenly said from behind him as she popped her gum, "Most of these are only so-so. They're good but not as good as the ones in the bottom drawer. The best ones are in the closet. I missed him while he was gone, so I came in here and organized everything, like a nosey little sister. I learned a lot."
"What kind of things did you learn?" Sam asked softly.
"Oh! Like how he always looked out for me even if it made me mad." Jennifer told him with a gleam in her eyes, "How he kept me from making some pretty serious mistakes. Of course, I didn't realize how much I meant to him until I looked at the pictures. There are even several of me nursing when I was a baby. There's even one of me falling off a horse the first time Aunt Carol let me put a saddle on by myself. Aunt Carol had to stop him from shooting that Appaloosa. He was so mad that I got hurt."
"Didn't he teach you to dance?" Sam asked smiling.
"And escorted me to my first one." Jennifer giggled with delight, "He beat up Terry Clarkson for getting fresh with me. Then he taught me marshal arts because he knew he wouldn't be around to defend my honor all the time. Did you know most boys are still overly respectful of me; except for Tony Dickerson. The guy is just stupid."
"Stupid, huh?" Sam asked smiling.
"Really dumb; don't even get me started on him." Jennifer replied and opened the bottom filing cabinet drawer, "Jamaica and I have been friends every since she moved here, but I have to tell you that when I saw these sketches, I was jealous. Is there something strange in that?"
"No." Sam replied, "It must have been like thinking you were going to lose your brother. You're both very beautiful young women. I'm surprised the two of you get along so well."
"I'm glad we're not after the same guy," Jennifer admitted, "That could be a problem."
"So am I?" Sam sighed, "I think you're great as sisters."
"Yes, we are." Jennifer commented with a bright smile and brought out a handful of 9 by 12 pads, "I always felt like we should have been all along; but that would make their relationship more than a little strange."
"Why didn't anyone tell me he was such a wonderful artist?" Sam asked while looking at a picture of himself on his palomino, Alabaster.
"That's an early one." Jennifer told him, "April 1963. You and Alabaster are getting ready to go after Herefords on the north range. Mom and I have both told you what a great artist he is. He's also a poet and likes to write western stories. He's a lot of real neat things. But, he's not an architect; it bores him to tears. He'll do it because he thinks that's what you want. He really does love you."
Sam looked at her and sighed in despair.
"In fact, he loves us all very much. Like most guys, he just doesn't say it a lot." Jennifer said quietly, "He loves us. He loves the ranch. He's such a deep person. I wish I knew a stronger word with more meaning to describe how he feels about Jake. I hope I can find someone who loves me the way he loves her; whom I can love the way she loves him. I see it so clearly. I expect it with you and Momma; Aunt Carol and Uncle Ken. I even watched it grow with Jamie and Alicia. But here it is my generation, where everybody says that kind of thing isn't possible anymore and my big brother goes and finds it on the farm next door. Did you know that Jamaica thought they were through, but still turned down dates with any guy that asked; finding fault with every single one of them."
"How do you know so much about their relationship?" Sam asked seriously.
"Daddy; you never saw them anywhere except here and at the hospital." Jennifer replied, "I have; so has Aunt Carol and Alicia. I think there's a lot about their relationship that might interest, and worry, you. I know Momma was sure surprised when Jake showed her these pictures. You're all convinced this whole thing started during his senior year, but it started way before that. They were going to elope in the fall of 67 after he graduated and she turned 16."
"She'd have been too young." Sam sighed.
"Not in Arkansas, Missouri or Oklahoma." Jennifer countered with a smirk, "The only thing that stopped them was the Army, Vietnam, and some of his very best friends getting killed. Brent has a very deep sense of loyalty, duty and honor. His life insurance was made out to Jamaica. I have a copy of it in my dresser. He made me promise not to tell anyone unless he didn't come back. I really, really think you should read the letter he wrote just in case the unthinkable happened. I don't know what it says, but I have a feeling it would enlighten you about a lot of things."
"There's so much here." Sam sighed.
"You two are a lot alike." Jennifer said softly, "But Brent's more sensitive, when he's not trying to impress anyone. I'm a girl, so you expect me to have bad days and melt downs once in awhile. When it happens you blame it on my time of the month. So I get away with a lot he doesn't and never has. He's a great guy. I know you know it, but I also think you forget he's your son instead of a hired hand sometimes."
Sam was taken back by what she said and needed time to think.
Jennifer knew she'd said too much and kissed his cheek before checking on Brent. Her intent was not to hurt her father. She said it because she was concerned about her brother and the strained relationship between the two most important men in her life.
"Jen." Brent was barely able to say as she sat down next to him to wipe his face and neck with a cool, damp rag.
"Yeah!" Jennifer whispered.
He grasped her hand like he did when she was little, but had no strength in his grip.
"Don't worry?" Brent sighed, "I'll be okay."
"Alright." Jennifer sniffed and wiped her eyes. After a few minutes his fingers relaxed and he let go of her as he slipped back into a place of rest.
"He still does that." Carol commented as she quietly came in the room carrying Lacey.
"He still holds onto me." Jennifer wept and hugged Carol, "He's done it ever since I can remember."
"He must be a good big brother." Lacey whispered sadly.
"The best." Jennifer cried, "He couldn't talk in Japan, but he held my hand like he did when we were little kids. Mom told him to always look out for me and hold my hand when we went places because I was so curious. He's never forgotten."
"Would you like to help us with Lacey in the pool?" Carol asked softly, "Brenda's going to show me how to do Lacey's exercises."
"Sure." Jennifer sighed and smiled saying, "But only if I get to soak in the hot tub with her afterwards and can get a pair of those cool sunglasses to wear. Can you arrange that, Lacey?"
"Sure." Lacey replied, "I can get anything from Aunt Brenda." Jennifer wiped the tears from her eyes before getting up to leave.
"Jennie!" Brent exclaimed reaching out for her.
"It's okay, Brent." Carol told him softly, "I've got her. She's going to go try on swim suits with me."
"Watch her really close, Aunt Carol." Brent told her, "She can get away pretty fast."
"I'll watch her. I promise." Carol replied softly.
Brent smiled a little and admonished, as if she were still a small child, "You mind Aunt Carol and don't you dare go in the pool alone. You know what happened the last time."
"I promise." Jennifer wept.
"He is very sick, Mommy." Lacey whispered and asked, "Will he be okay?"
"He'll be alright in a few days." Carol assured her and explained,
"Right now he needs lots of rest."
"Oh." Lacey whispered as the three of them left the room.
Chapter Three
SKETCH ARTIST
Sam looked down at the pile of sketch pads and began thumbing through pictures. To his surprise and delight there was a sketch of 2 year old Jennifer curled against her 5 year old big brother on the day bed taking a nap. Anna had taken several similar pictures of them, but none expressed the depth and warmth of the drawing. The very next one was of Jamaica lying beside the swimming pool with Jennifer and Alicia one fall day. It was drawn in October 1965. Jamaica would have turned 14 by then. He had her skin tone and dimples right. It was clear he was definitely attracted to her from the poem scribbled on the bottom left corner of the page. Another drawing was of Anna, Carol, Alicia, Jamaica and Jennifer riding together on the west range toward the Mustang run. The horses and riders were in fluid motion as if a split-second in time had been stopped for the page. He'd even gotten the wild animals scampering out of their way and mustangs in the distance.
"Sam, what are you still doing up?" Anna asked quietly, "You should have been in bed an hour ago."
"I'm doing what I used to do." Sam replied, "Keeping the boogeyman away. I thought I'd look at some of his drawings while I was at it. Jake thought I should."
"Sketch art, honey. Its sketch art and he's a sketch artist." Anna corrected him and asked, "Did you see this one yet? It's the very first one he did of the 66 Corvette."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from KINGMAN - 1971 by Gary Reeves Copyright © 2011 by Gary Reeves. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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