Date: Sat, 23 Nov 2013 19:30:56 -0800 (PST)
From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com>
Subject: Porterville 23

This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to person's
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.

  The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it
has been posted, without the consent of the author.


All of us enjoy the stories here, so please, support Nifty. Like any other
Business, it takes resources to keep it running.

I appreciate you, and I know Nifty appreciates your support!

This Chapter is dedicated to my editor. Without his help, this chapter
would never have happened.

Mark Stevens



CHAPTER 23



	"Hello, Mother," Devon greeted.
	"Where are you, Devon?" she asked.
	"I had a late meeting," he said through tight lips.
	"We need to have a meeting ourselves. I want you to come to the
house this evening. We can talk over dinner," she told him.
	"I'm afraid it will have to wait until tomorrow," Devon
answered. "I have another meeting this evening. How about tomorrow
sometime?" he asked.
	"It needs to be tonight," she decided.
	"Sorry, Mother, but I just can't make it."
	"I know about your business at the bank today," she said pushing
his words to the side.
	"That doesn't surprise me one bit," he said. "In fact I've been
expecting a call from you,"
 he added.
	"What do you have up your sleeve, Devon McKenzie? Why in the world
would you suddenly decide to change your accounts?"
	"Forgive me, Mother, but I don't think I'm the one with `something
up my sleeve'. Your choice of words," he reminded.
	"Devon, what is happening to you? You are not acting like my son."
	Devon allowed a harsh laugh to escape him and he said, "Again,
Mother, your words.  Not mine."
	"Devon, please be here by eight o'clock. We have much to discuss."
	Devon could hear the uncertainty in her voice, and for some reason
he took great pleasure in knowing that. He told her he would see her first
thing in the morning in his office.
	"Just remember I put you in that office, and I can certainly take
it away from you."
	"You know, Mother, I would expect nothing less from you. Be in my
office at nine o'clock sharp. I'll be waiting for you."
	"So tell me about this so called meeting you have this evening?"
Britt asked as Devon ended his telephone conversation with his mother.
	Devon gave him a smile and said, "I think you know damned well
there is no meeting this evening. I'm just getting in practice of standing
up to my mother."
	"Something tells me this is not going to end well at all," Britt
said. He felt a shiver run down his body.
	Inside his car, Britt asked, "So what do we do for dinner? I'm sure
Mom has already eaten."
	Devon looked at his watch and said, "Would you mind giving Alice a
call? I'd really like to drop by and check on her. We could take her out
for dinner if she hasn't already eaten."
	"Is that what you want to do?"
	Devon nodded, and Britt reached for his cell. He punched a number
in and waited for Alice to answer.
	"Hey, Alice," he greeted. "Have you had dinner?"
	She hadn't, and he invited her to have dinner with the two of them.
	Alice said, "Britt, I've discovered something that's puzzling
me. Would you mind coming back after we eat so I can show it to you?"
	He asked what her discovery had been.
	"I'm not certain. I'll bring it along and show you."
	Britt told her they were on the way. "See you in a few moments," he
said ending his call.
	"What was that all about?" Devon asked. "What has Alice
discovered?"
	Britt shook his head. "I'm not certain," he said. "She has
something she wants us to see."
	Britt drove the short distance to Alice Cooper's home. When he
pulled into her drive, she hurried down the steps and ran to meet him.
	"Hello, Alice," Devon greeted. He jumped from the car and crawled
into the back seat, making room for her beside Britt.
	Britt gave her a smile. "We're glad you could join us, Alice," he
said.
	He saw that she was holding a notebook of some kind. He couldn't
tell much about it, other than the fact it looked old, its cover faded and
worn.
	"Is that your discovery?" he asked eyeing the book on her lap.
	She nodded. "I found this at the back of Mother's closet. I've been
putting off going through her things because I thought I couldn't do
it. Today when I got home from work, something just hit me, and I was
convinced I could do what I had to do."
	"What is it?" Devon asked from the back of the car.
	Alice turned enough in her seat to allow her to see both men. "It's
something like a journal that my mother kept. It's not a diary; more like a
record of her inner thoughts. I want the two of you to read it. That is, if
you have no other plans for this evening," she added.
	"The evening belongs to you," Britt assured her. He looked in his
rear view mirror and gave Devon a grin. "So you were telling the truth," he
said. "About your meeting, I mean," he added.
	"You have a meeting?" Alice asked. "Please don't let me
interfere. I can show you this another time."
	Without thinking, Devon placed a hand on Alice's shoulder. "Trust
me Alice, Britt and I want to be here. There is no meeting; just an excuse
I gave my mother. She wanted to have a meeting with me over dinner and I
told her I was busy."
	Alice eyed the hand on her shoulder, and Devon quickly pulled away
from her. "Sorry," he said.
	"Have you come across anything new?" Alice directed her question at
Britt.
	"It's possible that I might know something by tomorrow, but for
now, I'd rather not say." Britt glanced down at the notebook she was
holding. "Does your mother have anything interesting to say?"
	"As I said, it appears Mother kept a journal of her thoughts
throughout her life time. I've read some of her entries, and I've been
amazed by them. One in particular," she added. "It concerns my brother."
	Britt looked in his rear view mirror and his eyes locked with
Devon's. Neither one spoke.  There didn't seem to be anything for them to
say.
	"I don't remember him at all," Alice said. "It's odd, I realize
that, but it's the truth."
	"You were just a baby yourself," Britt reminded her.
	"I know. I just never realized how hard it was on my mother losing
him until I read what she had to say in her journal."
	"Perhaps we shouldn't read it," Devon spoke up. "After all, it's a
very private thing."
	"It is private, but I want the two of you to read it," Alice
replied.
	"Then after our meal, we'll go home with you and see what your
mother has to say," Britt assured her.
	Devon chose the restaurant, and Britt pulled into the parking
lot. The three of them walked inside and were shown to a table. As they
waited for their food, Britt tried to keep the conversation rolling, but
somehow none of them seemed interested in the small talk he tossed around.
	Finally he couldn't confine his curiosity any longer. Britt asked
to see her mother's journal. As Alice slid it across the table, he asked,
"Are you okay with this? I don't want you doing anything that makes you
uncomfortable."
	"No, I think it's something you need to know," she assured
him. "See the marker sticking out from the book? Read that page first."
	Britt picked up the notebook and opened to the marked page. Alice
had highlighted a section in yellow.
	"Read it out loud," she told him.
	Britt read:

June 8th, 1973 I came home from the hospital.

My life is over and my heart is broken. Everything has left me feeling hurt
and confused. I have been told my family and I were involved in an
automobile accident and that my beautiful son Tommy has left me for his
home in heaven. Tom and the doctor explained that our son had lost his life
at the scene of the accident. As they talked to me, their voices became so
soft I could no longer hear what they were saying. I refused to listen to
the two of them telling me my sweet boy was gone. I closed my eyes and fell
into darkness. When I woke up I discovered Tommy in my arms. My precious
boy was alive! I realized it had only been a terrible dream that I
had. Tommy was alive and smiling at me. The sparkle in his eyes assured me
that nothing at all was wrong with him. I leaned down and kissed the top of
his head gently. His smile turned into a wide grin, and I saw he had a new
tooth.

I didn't feel well, and for some reason I couldn't seem to keep my eyes
open. It became a struggle, and a nurse reached for him. She told me I
needed my rest, and she assured me that Tommy did as well. I tried to hang
onto my son, but the nurse was stronger, and she pulled him from my
arms. Darkness settled over me, and I became lost in its heavy coat.  I
don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up, I asked to see my son. Tom
had gone, and I was alone in my hospital room. The nurse called the doctor
and he came to my room. In a soft voice, he told me that my son had died in
the same accident that had put me in the hospital. When I tried to tell him
that Tommy was alive, and that I had held him after the accident, he
assured me that I must have been dreaming. His words upset me so much that
he had the nurse give me a shot. He told me it would help me to relax.

I have been told that the accident that took my son's life happened June
5th. I feel sure that I had been in the hospital at least a day before I
held Tommy. At least it felt like I had. They keep telling me that for the
first full day I kept drifting in and out. Something just doesn't seem
right about all of this. They keep telling me that I never saw Tommy after
the accident. I am afraid I am losing my mind.

	Britt came to the end of the entry and raised his eyes to face the
other two. He allowed his eyes to settle on Alice, and he remained silent.
	Alice was the first one to speak. She said, "Over the years I've
often wondered about the state of Mother's mental condition. Of course, I
was too young to know the kind of person she was before my brother was
killed; what she was like; her personality. Still, after I read this, I
have to think that perhaps this was the beginning of some sort of
breakdown. As I mentioned earlier, I never knew until I read that entry how
my mother had been affected. My God, I would have lost my mind, had it been
me," she added.
	Britt closed Margaret's journal and said, "Alice, I would testify
under oath that your mother was just as sane as the three of us; perhaps
even more so," he added. "The day of my visit, sure she had gotten a little
mixed up, and perhaps that was caused partly by your brother's death years
before. Still, the day I visited with her, your mother seemed very clear to
me. I do think she wanted to tell me something, but for whatever reason,
she felt she was bound to keep silent."
	"But for what reason?" Alice asked.
	Britt slid the notebook across the table to Alice. "I'm very
anxious to read more of this," he said, "but I think we should wait until
we have more privacy."
	He smiled at Devon. "You're awfully quiet. Something have you
bogged down?"
	"Just digesting everything you've read," the man answered.
	Britt reached across and placed his hand on Devon's. "It's going to
be okay, Babe," he said.
	Alice looked at them both and remained silent.
	A sense of urgency had seemed to overtake them, and once their food
arrived, they ate it quickly and left for Alice's home. The short trip was
made in silence, each one preoccupied with his thoughts.
	Britt pulled into the Cooper drive and shut the car engine off. His
eyes settled on Alice, and he asked, "Are you certain you want to share
your mother's thoughts, Alice?"
	Alice sat quietly in the car seat, not giving him an answer at
first. Then taking a deep breath, she said, "I have mixed feelings about
digging into Mother's life, but I feel I deserve to know what really
happened to her and Daddy, and this is the only way to find out. As for
sharing the information with the two of you, well, I think I'm afraid to
face it alone."
	The two men followed Alice inside her home. She invited them to
take a seat on the sofa and handed Britt her mother's journal. She told him
to start reading.
	Britt took a seat on the couch and took a deep breath. "Okay, here
goes."
	He had left a marker on the page he had read earlier, and now he
opened the book to the page.
	"It looks like your mother didn't write anything new for a few
days." He read:


June 12th, 1973

It's been almost a week since I lost Tommy. I feel like I'm living in a
vacuum. I can't think clearly. I know Sarah and Mary Nell mean well, but I
do wish they would just leave.  I am thankful they both insisted on having
a grave side service for Tommy. Tom refused to discuss it, and I can't
imagine why. His attitude has hurt me so much. He told my sisters they
should leave matters alone. He said there could be no open casket, so he
felt there was no need for a service of any kind. I just don't understand
his thinking.  Thanks to Sarah and Mary Nell, there's a small grave in our
back yard. Tommy's grave. I just don't understand why Tom feels the way he
does.


June 15th, 1973

Tom announced today he was quitting his job. For the first time he admitted
how hard it had been on him, knowing he was the one responsible for Tommy's
death. I asked him how we were going to survive if he quit his job. He told
me he had an insurance policy that would take care of us. He assured me he
would draw the same amount for the rest of his life and that it would pay
him the same each month that he had earned from working. If something
should happen to him first, then Alice and I would draw double the amount
for the rest of my life. As if any amount of money could ever make up for
losing my precious boy.

	Britt looked up from the book he was holding and saw tears flowing
down Alice's cheeks. He felt himself tear up, and he hastily gave both eyes
a swipe. How could he continue reading something this personal? He
wondered.
	It was Alice herself that made the decision for him. "Please
continue," she said quietly. "I want to hear what she had to say, and I'm
not sure I could do it myself."
	Britt gave a nod and looked back down at the page before him.


July 1st, 1973

Tom told me today that we received the first check from the insurance
company. He seemed relieved, yet at the same time, angry when he saw it had
been deposited in the bank. I asked him if we could have a small marker
placed on Tommy's grave. He has agreed to do it.

Tom has been so secretive about this insurance policy that's going to pay
us for the rest of our lives. He says he is being truthful with me, but
everything about it seems wrong. I asked him about it again today, and he
became so upset. He really frightened me, and I told him I would never
mention it again.

July 6th, 1973

Tom told me this morning that the insurance money we got for the car was
in, and he wanted to go pick a new one out. I could care less about a new
car, and I told him to go without me. He lost his temper and demanded I
go. Tommy's death has brought about a drastic change in him. I will go with
him to pick a car out.

July 10th, 1973

We've had the new car four days, and Tom told me this morning it was time
for me to learn to drive it. Since we brought it home, he has tried several
times to get me behind the wheel, and I've refused. Now he says I WILL
learn to drive it. So I have made up my mind that I will do as he asks. If
only it would make him happy, but I know it won't. Tom is so full of
bitterness since Tommy left. We both have changed so much, Our world can
never be the same again.

July 11th, 1973

This morning I am more confused than ever. Yesterday when Tom was so
determined I drive the new car, I suddenly had an idea. I let him show me
the basics of the new machine, and then I told him I wanted to take a drive
by myself. Tom was surprised, but he seemed relieved I wanted to do
something on my own.

I drove around the neighborhood with Tom by my side until he felt sure I
could handle the vehicle. I dropped him off at home and told him I was
going for a short drive, and I would return before lunch time. I had
decided if Tom couldn't or wasn't giving me any answers that I would go to
the bank myself. After all, if the money was going to come in through them,
I felt sure they would know something about the situation.

When I arrived at the bank, I asked to speak with Garland Mitchell. We have
done our business through him for years, and I felt I could trust
Garland. I told the man about our situation and asked if he could explain
it to me. He left me in his office while he went to search our
records. When he came back, he had a look on his face that I couldn't
read. He asked me what Tom had told me, and when I explained, he said that
I knew as much as he did. When I asked him the name of the insurance
company he told me to go home and check with Tom. I left the bank without
finding any answers to my questions. When I got home, Tom seemed in a worse
mood than ever, and I made up my mind to let things drop. At least for now.

	Britt looked up from the journal. He stood to his feet. He told
them the next entry was dated March 30th, 1974.
	"I think I need a break before continuing on," he said.
	Alice offered them something to drink and went to the kitchen,
leaving the two alone of them alone in her living room.
	Britt gave Devon a smile. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.
	Devon gave a short nod and said, "If this continues the way I think
it might, I don't see how the hell you're going to keep from telling her
everything you suspect."
	"You could be right," Britt agreed. "It also could be a very long
night for all of us," he added.
	Alice returned with a tray of drinks and gave them a smile. "I'm
sorry," she said, "but Coca-Cola is the strongest I have to offer."
	They each took a glass, and Britt said, "Coke is probably the
strongest thing we should drink tonight." He watched as Alice took her seat
once more, and his heart went out to her; to both Devon and her.
	The three tried to make conversation for a time, but it was no
use. The note book with the faded pages kept tapping at their brains,
begging to be read.  Finally Britt sat his glass on the table beside the
couch and picked it up once more. He read:


March 30, 1974

Today is the twin's 3rd birthday. I know it must be wrong of me, but I
simply could not stand celebrating Alice's the same day as Tommy's. She's
young, and she'll never know I had a party for her the day before her
birthday. Perhaps next year I will feel differently about it. Tom thought I
was being ridiculous. He thought I was wrong to have her party a day
early. It's getting harder and harder to understand my husband.

	Britt looked up and let his eyes focus on Alice's face. Although he
didn't speak, she realized he was asking her permission to continue on.
	"I grew up never having a clue my mother had these kind of
feelings," she remarked.
	"How could you?" Devon asked. "After all, you were just a child,"
he reminded.
	"She seems so unhappy, and all the time I was growing up I was
oblivious to the fact. Oh, I knew she loved Tommy, and I knew she had to
miss him, but to me, she never acted anything like the person in this
journal."
	"Perhaps that's the reason she kept her journal," Britt said. "She
could share her feelings with it, good and bad, happy and sad, and not
burden anyone with her problems."
	"I guess that's the way she was, and I didn't know any different,"
Alice agreed.
	"Sounds like the kind of Mother I wish I had when I was growing
up," Devon remarked.
	Britt looked from Alice to Devon and remained quiet.  His heart
went out to them both, yet he didn't have any words to say. They seemed all
bottled up inside him. He reached for his drink and quickly took a
swallow. His throat had become very dry and the cold liquid felt good as it
made its way down him.
	He turned a page over and said, "The next entry is June 5th,
1974. Are you ready for this?"
	Alice and Devon both told him to read it.


My nightmare has been with me one full year. Today marks the first
anniversary. My family and I were changed forever on this date, never to be
the same again. It's hard for me to remember the accident. I can remember
practically everything that happened at the town picnic, but once we were
in the car heading home, everything goes blank for me.  The main thing that
haunts me about the picnic was I knew Tom had been drinking a lot, and when
we left the park I asked if I needed to drive home. He assured me he was
alright, and I took him at his word. Tom has always been one to enjoy his
drink at town events, and I thought nothing of it. If only I had insisted
he let me drive, neither of us would be going through the hell we are now.


	There were several more entries, and Britt read each of them, but
they told of nothing earth shattering. Mostly, they were about the bitter
feelings Margaret Cooper was keeping hidden deep inside herself, telling no
one except her beloved journal. The entries were becoming further apart,
leaving the impression that Alice's mother was no longer needing to confide
as much in her journal. Then:


March 15th, 1978

I am worried about Tom. The occasional drinking he's enjoyed most of our
married life has turned into a daily ritual, starting from noon, and
sometimes earlier and continuing until he goes to bed. I can't remember
even one day in the last two years that Tom has gone without drinking
alcohol.  It's consuming both of us, and honestly, I don't know how much
more I can take. He loves Alice so much, and because of that, leaving him
is out of the question.

	Alice interrupted Britt's reading, saying, "My God. I can't believe
I was so ignorant of what was happening right before my eyes."
	"I'm sure your mother did her best to shield you," Britt told her.
	"Alice, you have to know how much your mother loved you." Devon
spoke the words softly.
	Heavy emotion filled the room, and Britt thought it best he return
to Margaret's journal. He turned to the next page and began reading.

March 20th, 1978

Tom left the house early this morning. I was surprised, as he rarely goes
anywhere before noon. What really surprised me was that I think he was free
of drink. I asked him where he was going, and he told me to wait, that he
might have a surprise for me. When I questioned him, he just gave me one of
his grins; the kind I use to see when we were younger, much happier. His
eyes were different as well. There was a sparkle in them like I haven't
seen in years.


March 20th, 1978, Evening time

Tom was gone most of the day, and I can't get a word out of him. He won't
answer my questions, and he's back to being angry. When I tried to get some
answers from him, I became frightened by his tone. He went to bed and left
me alone with all of my unanswered questions.

March 22nd, 1978

Tom left the house early this morning like he did a couple of days ago. And
like then, he was gone most of the day. When he returned, he headed for the
bedroom. I gave him a few moments and then opened the door and entered the
room the two of us have shared for so many years. My husband was in bed,
covers pulled over his head. It was only five o'clock in the afternoon. I
quietly closed the door and left him alone.

March 25th, 1978

	Britt read the date, and a brief second later he looked up. "This
next part may come as a shock to you both," he said.
	He read on:

I am puzzled today by a visitor I had. Tom had been gone most of the day,
and was still absent when I had a visitor at the door. I was very surprised
to discover Elaine McKenzie on my door step. This woman had never been to
my home in all of the years I have known the McKenzie and Porter families.

She tried to act gracious, yet at the same time, I felt she was a bit
embarrassed to be knocking on my door. What could I do, but invite the
woman inside my home? She asked about me, how I was doing, even inquiring
about Alice. I told her that my daughter was happy and about to celebrate
her 7th birthday. Then the woman said something I will never forget, nor
will I forgive her for. She mentioned Tommy and apologized for not dropping
by sooner to offer her condolences. Was the woman serious? My baby's been
gone 5 years, and she has the nerve to drop by and offer her sympathy? She
has a very cruel nature, and I could easily hate the woman.

	Britt paused and gave Devon a quick look. His lover's face had
turned white, and he looked as if he might pass out. He scooted across the
couch and gave the man a hug.
	Devon pulled away and looked across the room at Alice. He wanted to
go to her so much, but he didn't know how to go about it. He didn't think
she was ready to hear what they might have to tell her, and he was afraid
when the time came it would only hurt her that much more. He told Britt to
read some more.
	Britt read:

The woman told me she knew how I felt, how bad it was to lose a
child. Anger came from everywhere in my body, erupting like a poison. I
stood to my feet and ordered her to leave my home. As far as I knew, Elaine
Porter McKenzie had never lost a child. There was no way in hell she could
know what I was feeling. I asked her to leave. The woman walked to the
door. Before she left she told me she hoped I knew just how much my husband
really loved me. That did it! I ordered the woman from my house and told
her I never wanted to see her face again. Tom came home later, and I told
him about my visitor. I told him everything she had said to me. As I
described her visit I noticed that my husband became very emotional. He did
his best to hide it from me, but I knew just the same. He became very quiet
afterward, and he soon disappeared into the bedroom. When I checked on him
a bit later, he had fallen asleep on the bed. I left him to rest.

March 26th, 1978

When I came into the kitchen this morning to make breakfast, I discovered
Tom sitting at the kitchen table. He had already made coffee, and he asked
me to join him. I offered to make him breakfast, but he told me to have a
seat. He had something to tell me. As I sat beside my husband, I listened
to the words he was saying. He told me he had done a terrible deed and
begged me to forgive him. I asked him what it was he had done, but he just
shook his head. He told me he was going to leave the house, and when he
returned, he hoped he had righted the wrong. I asked him if the wrong he
was referring to had anything to do with the McKenzie family. He wouldn't
give me an answer. He just smiled and told me he loved me.

After he left I became confused. The words Tom said left me puzzled and
full of questions. If I don't get some answers soon, I feel I will go
mad. One thought keeps tugging at me. Can any of this have anything to do
with the accident we were involved in with John and Elaine McKenzie? The
accident that took my baby boy's young life?

March 27th, 1978

Tom was in a strange mood when he returned home yesterday. He didn't seem
to be angry, but he was very preoccupied with his thoughts. Over the supper
table he told me he hadn't worked things out just yet, but that he would in
time, and for me to be patient with him.

March 28th, 1978

The day began as usual for us. I was up first and had breakfast ready when
Tom joined me in the kitchen. While we were eating the telephone rang. I
took the call. It was for Tom. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but I
didn't recognize who it was; just that it was a woman. Tom took the call,
and I could tell he was making arrangements to meet someone. When he
returned to the table he had a big grin on his face. I will never forget
his words and how happy he sounded. He told me everything was going to be
okay real soon. He was to meet with someone that afternoon. I asked who his
meeting was with, but he wouldn't say.  For the first time in years, my
husband went around the house whistling. It was something he did every day
of our married life until we lost Tommy. From that time until today Tom had
been angry with the world and everyone in it. It made me so happy to see
him happy. I feel as if I'm getting my husband back.

	Britt saw the next entry and stopped. It was one simple sentence
but it carried a lot of weight. He read:

March 28th

I lost Tom today. I don't think I can go on without him.

	Devon suddenly jumped to his feet. "This madness has got to be
stopped!" Saying those words, he opened the door and disappeared, the
darkness swallowing him up.