The Final Shortcut (5 page)

Ellen broke down, “It’s all my fault, I brought the mushrooms, Marty doesn’t care for that sort of thing, and it’s all my fault. But I swear to you I don’t know where the LSD came…unless it was…they wouldn’t have…not without saying something.” Her face was a mask of terror at the thought. “Oh my God, they made the tea didn’t they? Their own recipe, right? That’s what they said, wasn’t it?” Marty’s sadness turned to fury as he thought about Mark and Sarah’s surprise.

“You think someone slipped the LSD into your glass without you knowing it?” The Doctor talked to them now more compassionately, realizing that they would never have done this on purpose

“That’s exactly what happened; I can remember them acting funny when they came back from brewing it.” Marty paced the floor angrily, his face twisted into a vengeful grimace. The Doctor quickly calmed the situation with some mild sedatives for them both and spent the next fifteen minutes talking about the days, months and years ahead. They needed to concentrate on taking care of Junior now, and not on repaying any injustice. Nothing would put their beloved son back the way he was. Only love and attention would help their family to heal, and they both had to pull together to help their son have a normal life. There was no way to anticipate the extent of his condition without waiting. No way of knowing how his mind would work after his terrifying ordeal. No way to tell what life would be like once they got home. Marty knew one thing for sure. His relationship with Ellen would never be the same as he felt a lot of resentment toward her for bringing the mushrooms. His perfect son, the very likeness of himself, the greatest joy in his life was now forever altered.

Ellen stared at Junior almost in a trance. Her eyes red and moist, her head pounding like a jackhammer. She felt responsible for everything, grief stricken at the thought of her son growing up to hate her for this. But under all the agony she felt something else, a horrible sensation of dread. Something vile and disgusting that she couldn’t explain. Somehow she knew that this was just the beginning of a long terrible road ahead, a road filled with evil and death. Call it mother’s intuition, or just the after effects of their drug filled night. But she definitely felt something totally new to her. For a brief moment Junior opened his eyes and looked directly into hers. His expression didn’t change, didn’t move any other features, he just stared into her eyes. Cold chills ran down her spine and she was suddenly frightened. She felt like she needed to run away: to run for her life. As she peered into his cold dark eyes she could feel the life draining from her. What had she done? What in God’s name had she done? Junior closed his eyes and Ellen collapsed on the floor, sweating profusely, pale and weak. Marty and the doctor helped her up and took her somewhere to lie down. When he looked back at his son once more before pulling the curtain, it seemed to him that Junior was smiling.

Chapter 3

A warm summer breeze rustled the leaves around Marty’s head. A tuft of light fluffy clouds drifted through the morning sky. He felt certain serenity as he lay on the ground staring off into space. It had been ten months since the horrible accident befell his happy home, ten months that dragged on like ten years. This was the first day he had truly felt at ease. Junior had seen every doctor within three counties that could offer any advice. Other experts from across the country had been consulted, and they all had but one conclusion. Outside the physical problem, he would probably be perfectly fine. He would just have to wait and see. Wait and pray.

His favorite hunting spot had become his only peace in the turbulent hell. Junior couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror. He spent many fitful hours crying. Ellen bore a tremendous guilt complex and had been on medication since Woodstock. Neither of them had shared a happy moment since. Her doctors urged them both to put it all behind them. Get Junior started in school, go back to what they had before. Time would heal all the wounds that now lay festering. He had decided to turn his life around and go straight, put his money in securities and investments. The little town of Bontonville owed a good deal of its lively hood to the Baumann family and four other family farms. Many people worked at the farms or received compensation for protection and other services. Since it was a little town, less than two thousand in population, most everyone had a family member directly tied to the business. And as it is in small hamlets, everybody knows everybody’s business. Elbert Stokes was the manager of Bontonville Bank and Trust Company and held a seat on the city council. The fact that he was Clyde’s uncle didn’t hurt either, when Marty was looking to arrange an investment portfolio. They had talked about setting up a dummy corporation to funnel profits from the farm into a variety of accounts and annuities over the next five or six years. Marty wanted to buy or lease some of the old coal mine property so he could retire without any encroachment from the outside world. He pondered his plans as he lay in the heat of the rising sun. The game in the forest seemed oblivious to his presence, seemingly knowing that he hadn’t brought his rifle. He wished that he could lie there forever, never having to face the future. But Junior needed his love and guidance in order to survive. And as far as Ellen was concerned, he had come to the decision that he would have to take care of everything, with her or in spite of her. His only care now, to give Junior a fighting chance at a normal life. He hadn’t discussed his financial plans with her and didn’t plan to. He would provide for both of them but he didn’t see where she was going to be any help. Maybe after some time she would get back to normal, but he wasn’t going to wait to find out. He was only twenty-two years old but he felt as though he was sixty. Each day felt like it would never end. Each moment passed so slowly that he thought he might cry out in anguish. So many tears, so much pain, so much fear of what tomorrow might bring.

His gut began to tighten up; maybe he was hungry, maybe not. He began to get a strange feeling that he couldn’t explain a sudden intense anxiety. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. He jumped quickly to his feet, scaring a fox that was standing near him. And ran the three hundred yards to his house in record time. Running so hard, he thought his heart would burst; he neared the porch just as Junior bolted out of the door. His face a mask of terror, blood all over his hands.

“Daddy, daddy!” Tears streaming down his face, his voice pitched at a horrid screech. “Momma’s dead! Momma’s dead!” Marty tore into the house pulling the screen door off one hinge as he yanked it open. Frantically looking through the house, he found her lying in the bed. Her chest was a mass of blood, the pistol still in her hand. She was still breathing, the wound still bleeding. He immediately applied pressure to the gunshot wound. He quickly phoned for help while trying to stop the bleeding. Junior huddled in the corner balled up in a tight knot, rocking back and forth, crying copiously.

“Good Lord, what now?” his temples began to throb and he felt certain he would pass out. There was no choice but to wait for an ambulance this time. In seemed like an eternity before he heard the sirens wailing. A long mesmerizing minute before help came bursting into the room. The medic placed a bandage over the wound and Marty stepped back to let them work. He looked over at Junior who was quiet now, still curled up in a ball. A sullen expression covered his face. Marty couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his young mind. A mind that had also aged beyond its years, scarred even more now than before.

Sheriff Stokes pulled up at the moment Ellen was being loaded into the ambulance. He barged in the house.

“Marty? Where are you?” Not waiting for an answer as he looked around. What he found brought tears to his eyes. Marty was sitting in the floor in front of Junior; the boys face a stony grimace. None of them said anything for a few long minutes. Then Marty broke the silence.

“She shot herself in the chest Clyde, left of her heart.” His voice faltered as he continued, “I was in the woods for about half an hour, maybe less.” He broke down crying but Junior’s expression never changed.

Clyde moved closer, “Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital. Is junior OK?” Marty looked up at his old friend, “He found her! He was in the house when she …” Turning back to look at his young son. The youth still stared unblinking at the bed, rocking slightly back and forth. Marty reached out and pulled him closer, picked him up and headed outside. His expression hadn’t changed until then; he hugged his father tightly around the neck and began crying again.

“I saw her shoot the gun Daddy.” the words were barely audible but he heard them. “I saw it.” Clyde was crying freely when he helped them into his patrol car, his own heart about to break. A family he had helped put together was disintegrating. And the most helpless victim would probably be the one to bear the worse scars. They made the trip in complete silence; the only noise was the persistent siren crying mournfully.

She spent the next few days sedated in intensive care. A punctured lung, two shattered ribs and some arterial damage was the worst of her physical problems. However her mental state was the subject of much discussion. The decision was made to have her committed to a sanatorium for observation. A small private hospital a few miles away would serve the purpose well. Junior had been having nightmares and occasional fits of anger that worried Marty immensely. The hospital psychologist assured him that his reactions were normal for someone of his young age. He didn’t have the maturity to know how to deal with the emotional stress and anguish of seeing such violence. Fortunately he wasn’t quite old enough to start school so he would have some time to get over his trauma.

In the weeks that followed Marty felt his heart would burst from the strain on his emotions. Ellen was incoherent and paranoid. One day she would beg to go home and the next she would accuse Marty of having an affair and blame him for her suicide attempt. During the third week of her stay she broke a mirror and threatened to slash her wrists if they didn’t let her out. After the fifth week the doctors reported to Marty that she was on her way to recovery but not to expect much for some time yet.

Meanwhile Junior and Marty started an unofficial pre-school program with the help of some friends in the school system. A former classmate of Marty’s, Marsha, was a teacher and she agreed to come by two afternoons a week and teach Junior the basics. They considered it wise not to put Junior in the school system until he had gotten over the shock of his Mothers’ incident. Marty hoped that by the next fall he would be ready to start first grade with the other kids. Marsha noted how very bright junior was, absorbing everything she gave him to study. Arithmetic was a breeze for him. And he was already beginning to read, only after two months. Marsha told Marty that he may have a gifted child and he should have him properly evaluated. He was very pleased and planned to do just that. After contacting the principal and getting more information, he was off to the State University for some preliminary tests. From the results they were able to tell that he certainly was able to learn very quickly and may indeed be gifted. However in order to substantiate that. They would have to have more tests over a period of time in order to track his ability. Marty was elated, his pride and joy just grew a hundred fold. He felt a great weight lifted from him. Every since the concert he had feared that Junior may have brain damage; his relief was immeasurable. Appointments had been made to return in a few weeks for more tests. On the way home they stopped and told Ellen of her son’s progress and potential. Her mood changed almost over night. Within days the Doctors were talking about a full recovery and much sooner than they had suspected. For the first time in nearly a year Marty felt like they might just be happy again.

Ellen was released after two more months, a new woman. Junior had a professional tutor helping him get ready for school with amazing results. His progress was astounding everyone involved with him. They hadn’t called him a genius, but his appetite for learning was filling them with thoughts of scholarships and great accomplishments. Marty and Ellen were overjoyed and their relationship was blossoming again. They concentrated their efforts now on getting Junior ready for school, public school at first and if warranted they would put him in private school.

The Holiday season was just around the corner and the November winds blew through the hills. A hint of frost in the air had turned the colors to their brilliant hues all around them. Decorations adorned their mountain home, fresh baked cookies permeated the air and Ellen was singing as she flitted about the kitchen. Junior would have his sixth birthday next month and he showed no outward effects of their recent tragedy. The harvest had been successful, a very profitable season. So much so that he bought two hundred more acres around his farm bringing the total to almost four hundred acres paid for. As he stood looking out his front window he breathed a heavy sigh and thanked the Lord for putting his family back together. It wouldn’t be long till he would go out in the woods and get that perfect cedar tree for Christmas. This year he would spoil his wife and his son. More than he should, but they deserved it. He had already bought Junior a small twenty-two caliber rifle and Ellen a plush fur jacket. There were several other gifts he was looking for, but one thing was for sure. They wouldn’t be going to any more concerts.

The Christmas and birthday celebrations went by with great speed. And the spring planting season would be upon them all too quickly. Junior and Marty were practically inseparable; they planted, hunted, read, played and even napped together. Ellen was still on a maintenance medication but she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since her release. She was just a little bit jealous about all the time her men spent together. But she was also relieved because it afforded her plenty quiet time for herself. They were truly happy again and she smiled to herself as she walked out on the back porch for a quick joint. They still smoked, but not as much as before. And they let it be known that no other drugs would be allowed in their home. She sat on the railing listening to the sounds of the coming season in the trees. The barn door was open and the tractor was gone so she knew they were busy plowing or playing. Marty had told Junior he could have the big John Deere when he grew up. They had even put his name on it, in big yellow letters. She looked down and noted that the red dye stain was still in the floorboards. She smiled as she reflected on the happy events of that day. And made a mental note to tell Marty to leave it as it was, forever. It would serve as a reminder of the simple, loving relationship they once had. She still harbored a nagging, guilty feeling inside about what she had done to Junior. Hoping that his appearance wouldn’t cause him any distress. They had protected him from any scorn by keeping him at home. But she knew that starting school would be very hard. She knew how cruel other kids could be. Praying silently, as she did every day now, she hoped his clever mind would help him to deal with the pain of growing up without any more traumas.