The Final Shortcut (7 page)

“This ain’t over freak!” The words slapped Junior like a whip across the back. He glared at Wesley as his father, Reverend Groomes, took him away.

“OW!” Junior snapped his head around as the nurse grabbed his wounded hand. “You’ve torn a stitch loose.” She immediately took him away to redress his hand and his anger was abated.

Early the following Monday morning, Wesley had heard all the ribbing from his friends he could stand. No more was he going to be bested by a first grader. During the first recess he sought out Junior and threw down the gauntlet.

“Hey ugly!” he shouted from a dozen yards away, “Hey freak boy!” Pulling down on his cheek he tottered around in a tight circle, “Look at me I’m a freak boy.” From across the schoolyard Junior heard the taunting and stood stone still, eyes fixed. Blood pumped heat into his face. He could hear Wesley laughing. The other kids began laughing. Laughing at him! He started walking slowly toward his nemesis.

“Uh oh, the freak boy’s gonna get me.” Wesley exaggerated his movements reveling in the attention.

Junior finished the last few yards at a dead run, Wesley was grinning and waiting, and at the last second stepped out of the way. But Junior was raised in the woods and he quickly changed directions. Easily vaulting the larger boy, their momentum propelled them both to the ground. When Wesley tried to catch his breath, he couldn’t. Junior had both hands firmly around his neck. He was crouched on his chest, bouncing on his lungs. Wesley could hear his windpipe cracking and he tasted blood in his throat. Trying to fight back was futile; Junior was unrelenting, squatting over him like a gargoyle, a bit of drool leaking from his distorted mouth. Wesley was nearly unconscious before Coach Tourek could pull him off. Barely breathing blood was running from the corner of his mouth. Another teacher had to help the gym coach hold Junior back. His strength was unimaginable for such a small boy. He was still thrashing about when Mrs. Lumpkin turned on the water hose and cooled off the situation. After a good soaking Junior had calmed down, Coach Tourek took him across the schoolyard to keep him quiet. Sheriff Clyde was on his way, along with the ambulance and everyone within two miles.

Junior sat calmly and watched the crowd moving about, watched them load Wesley into the ambulance wondering what all the excitement was. A nice teacher from another class had given him a towel to dry off with, but he couldn’t recall how he got wet. The coach had been talking to him, his words, muted and indistinct. Everything around him began to meld into a blur, all sound faded away. Junior was in a world of is own. He didn’t notice his injured hand bleeding, didn’t care about his new black eye. He just put his head in his hands and stared into space.

It was months before any Baumann or Hicks could go into town without hearing the whispers on the other side of the counter, the looks from across the street. There was nowhere to hide in a small town where everybody knows everyone’s news. And this was big news. All the facts and just as many fallacies were being told and retold. Wesley had two cracked ribs and a fractured trachea. Junior blacked out the whole day, remembering only that he went to school that morning. Some folks liked to think he was a bad child, some said he was evil. Most folks knew most of it was talk and reserved judgment, hoping to hear the real story one day. Only a handful of folks knew what really happened after that day. Reverend Groomes was demanding legal action. The school board was frantic worrying about their reputation. Legal advisors and city officials discussed what should be done for poor little Junior. The decision was handed down that he would have to seek professional counseling and that they should think about enrolling him in a private school. The Reverend agreed not to press charges if Marty would pay the medical bills and put Junior in counseling.

He was enrolled in the Emily Harris Learning Center, almost forty miles from home. A private school for children with special needs, filled mostly with disabled and mentally retarded children. Not exactly what Junior needed but it was the only thing comparable that would meet their needs. He spent the next two years there with great progress and no further incidents. His ability to absorb information was uncanny. Already reading three years ahead of his grade level and rifling through the other subjects as well. Principal Stott had suggested they find another school that better suited Junior’s needs and gave him a couple referrals. He explained that they were geared more to medical care and special education. They weren’t equipped to help children with his potential. Marty knew that Junior had become aware that all the children there were different. And he realized why he was there. Because he was ugly, a freak.

While Marty was filling out paperwork to take Junior out of the learning center, an old smoking buddy came through the office door. “Now if you will contact us later, we will send the authorization along to the new school. Have you found a place yet?” She looked up and recognized her high school friend. “I thought that name sounded familiar.” Marty smiled, his mind whirring with an idea and he seized the opportunity.

“Hi Lin, long time.”

“Hi Marty, how’s everything?”

Marty grinned, “everything’s just fine. We have decided on a new school, that one at the County seat.”

“The MacCally School?” Lin interjected, as he hoped she would.

“That’s the one; I’m heading straight over there today. Say why don’t I take the paperwork with me and save you a lot of running around.” Marty pasted on his best schoolboy face and tried to look sincere.

“Well, I’m not supposed to but…you won’t lose them will you?” They both laughed.

“Oh no if I did that Junior wouldn’t be able to finish school.” They chuckled again and she slid the papers across the counter. After exchanging goodbyes they were out the door. Junior sat quietly for several long minutes before talking.

“What’s this new school going to be like?” never looking up, a disparaging tone to his voice.

“It’s gonna be like home, cause I’m not taking you to any school. We are gonna teach you at home.” Marty had checked and rechecked to see if he could manage home schooling. With the help of a couple friendly officials he was sure he could do it. His son wouldn’t grow up thinking he was ugly or inferior to anyone. The grin on Juniors’ face told him how he felt about it. They both began to smile and Marty put his foot in the gas. They kicked up some gravel as the truck skidded slightly around the mountain roads. And a flutter of legal sized papers went flying down the mountainside.

Chapter 5

Spring 1979, the County fair was in town and Bontonville was bustling with people. This was Marty and Junior’s third year as vendors selling leather goods and animal pelts. They had learned the craft together over the last five years and Junior was turning out some very beautiful creations. His favorite material was deer hide, from which he made custom buckskin jackets and purses. And they were very popular. Marty loved to see his son’s excitement when he finished a new jacket. Loved the confidence in his art when he asked for a whopping $280 each, and got it. At only fifteen years old he was well on his way to success. He swelled with pride knowing that his boy could take good care of himself even though they didn’t need the money. Marty had completely given up the reefer business when Junior was nine, having set aside enough money to provide them all with a secure future. He recently added two hundred and sixty more acres to the farm that extended their property line to the new interstate. An old gas station half a mile from the exit was refurbished and renamed “Ellen‘s.” It served as a storefront for their crafts and for Ellen’s amusement. She had always planned to open a restaurant. It was more a vocation than an occupation, mostly something for her to occupy herself with. Getting a booth at the Fair had turned into a great boon for Junior’s demeanor. He had become very reclusive, studying at home and hunting more often than Marty. But now his new enterprise gave him cause to spend time in town, shopping for supplies and meeting other kids his own age. The experience did wonders for his self-esteem and he was gaining mastery at working a crowd. He flashed a huge smile as he pocketed ninety dollars from the sale of two purses, two belts and a wallet.

Mostly his jackets were by made to order only, but he had a special one wrapped in a big beautiful package with ribbons and a bow. A special gift for a special person. He watched the crowd moving past and finally caught a glimpse of her.

“Celeste!” He called after her, but she didn’t stop. “CELESTE!” She saw him waving and came over to the booth.

“Hi, Junior. How’s business?”

Junior puffed out his chest and proudly spoke, “Very good thank you. I was hoping I would see you today. I made you a little gift.”

“Oh really, what for, it’s not my birthday.” She grinned, and squealed in anticipation.

“A welcome home gift.”

“Well, me and Momma only moved back a month ago.”

“I know, better late than never. It takes time to create a masterpiece.” He moved his hand toward the purses and Celeste’s grin got bigger. Everything he made was beautiful and she couldn’t wait to see which was hers. Then he stepped back and grabbed the box from under the counter and handed it over to her. Her mouth dropped to the street with surprise. She looked from the box to Junior and back to the box, unable to move.

“Well open it.”

She quickly tore away the wrapping and yanked open the box. “WOW!” She pulled out a soft, brown buckskin jacket with a thick rabbit fur collar and full lining. Her name was embroidered on the back in three-inch letters. Small hand-carved deer antler buttons ran down the front, and there was a matching purse.

“Junior, this is gorgeous, you really shouldn’t have done all this.” She pushed her arms through the sleeves and pulled the collar around her neck. “Oooo….Junior this is so soft.”

“My secret technique makes buck skin soft as kid leather.” He felt tall as a mountain seeing the look on her face and prepared himself her next surprise. “Do you really like it?”

“Oh yes, everyone’s gonna be so jealous!” She purred now strutting about showing off her prize.

“I was wondering...” He started to talk but his voice wavered. “I was wondering if you would go with me to the street dance later?”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m going with Wesley. You remember Wes…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered the events from so long ago. “I’m sorry Junior. I really am.” His face turned white and his head drooped very low.

“Here, you should probably keep this.” She started to take off the jacket but he stopped her.

“No, you keep it. I made it for you and I want you to have it. Unless your boyfriend will object.” He looked up and awaited her response.

“He doesn’t own me; if he’s got a problem with it then he’ll just have to get over it.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for this. I’ll always cherish it.” She turned and walked away and he felt like he would die. How could she be dating that jerk? Junior turned to face his dad who had been watching quietly.

“You OK?” He asked very pensively hoping this wouldn’t stir up some old emotions. “Yeh, but I should have asked her before I made the jacket.”

Marty laughed and grabbed his son around the shoulder, “Let’s close up and go home.”

“Yeh, OK…she would have been just as happy with a purse.” Marty laughed again feeling good about the way Junior was handling the refusal.

“I’ll go get the truck. You lock up. We‘ll clean out the goods tomorrow.” Marty said as he walked away toward the parking lot.

“OK.” Junior pulled down the front covers and closed the side door putting the padlock in place. Then he turned and punched the lid of a metal trash can so hard it dented and bounced off, clanging loudly to the ground.

They worked their way through traffic slowly. The last day of the Fair was always the busiest. “You going to the dance tonight?” Junior was quiet. His eyes told Marty that he was miles away.

“Huh, Oh no, I don’t think so. I really didn’t want to dance; I just thought it would be a good way to talk to Celeste.” Marty didn’t press it knowing she would probably be there with Wesley. Better to let sleeping dogs lie.

“You want to come to ‘The Corral’ with me instead. There’s a dart tournament this weekend. We could enter as a team.” Junior smiled knowing what his dad was getting at.

“No, you’re the dart champion, and don’t worry about me, I’m OK. Besides I’m almost finished with that mail order electronics course. I’ve got to study for the final test; it’s supposed to be here next week.” Marty smiled and turned at the old oak tree that marked the road to home.

Junior had finished all the requirements for his high school diploma last fall at the age of fourteen. And now just four months past his birthday, he was already digging into more complicated subjects. His grades were good enough that he could have gotten a scholarship to almost any university. But since they hadn’t gone through the school system properly, his chances were slim. Friends in town had helped with his schooling for several years until the school board found out about it. They had wanted to start some trouble but decided to let it go. Considering how embarrassing it would be to explain to the County why it took them more than six years to discover Marty’s deception. And why so many in the system were helping them. The Baumann’s had many friends in town, and most of them thought Junior deserved special treatment. And since Marty had provided for his family so well no one seemed concerned about Junior choosing a career. As long as they were happy living in the hills, everyone else was happy too.

When they got home Marty found a note on the kitchen table that said Ellen was over at her cousin Trudy’s, which Marty knew meant that she was probably stoned and drunk again. She had drifted back into her old habits after Marty had given up the cash crop, finding solace with her second cousin, who was still in the business. Her addiction had stemmed from medication she received after Junior’s troubles at school. And after the doctor took her off the prescriptions, she had found other sources for a variety of pills and chemicals. At this point Marty had given up trying to stop her, she just became abusive and mean. She was constantly accusing him of sleeping around with every girl in town, constantly threatening to leave him. He still loved her but he couldn’t bear to see her destroy herself. Both of them spent more and more time away from home in order to avoid confrontation. Junior hardly spoke to her except in passing, and never told her he loved her anymore.