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Chapter 1 of 6 in the story.

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When Arch Kerr returned to Fort Stockton from the service in early 1945 he was a different man than when he left.  Perhaps it was like Heraclitus had said, “No man steps into the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he is not the same man.”

Certainly having witnessed man’s greatest inhumanities being inflicted on himself and his fellow prisoners by the Japanese who’d they had to surrender to had an effect he couldn’t even describe.  Nor did he ever attempt to.  But he wanted to return to normal as quickly as he could, thinking that normal was still a possibility.  In reality, it was long gone but he didn’t know that yet.

Normal was his girlfriend, Willa Wharton, and his old job out at The Facility and seeing the people around town he’d grown up with every day.  He’d seen their faces when he closed his eyes in “the box” where he’d been placed for trying to escape.  Now when he saw them at the Piggly Wiggly in real life again, it took him places he didn’t want to go.

Of course Willa was glad to have him back, even though she didn’t understand what had made him so different since he came home.  They married within weeks of his return.  She got pregnant shortly thereafter and gave birth to the only child they’d ever have, a boy.  They named him Kelly, after a friend of his father who didn’t make it back.  Willa had gotten pregnant twice after that but lost both babies in the first trimester.  She secretly was glad each time, but of course would never tell anyone that shameful fact.

Arch’s nightmares were only subdued by alcohol.  But the alcohol invited in other demons not related to his service that were just as tormenting.  Of course he loved the boy and never would have done anything to harm him.  He loved Willa, as well.  But her nagging about “getting help” would sometimes make him snap and he’d say things he didn’t mean or do things he couldn’t take back.  Doing so would only make him want to drink more to forget what he’d done.  It was a cycle young Kelly witnessed time and time again, or heard through the thin walls of the rented home the three of them shared.

On Kelly’s 18th birthday Arch stepped quietly into the boy’s room and stared down at his son.  He wished he could have been a better father.  He set a short handwritten note on the nightstand next to the bed.  On top of the note he placed a set of chrome keys.  He then stepped out of the room and out of the boy’s life.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have been a better father.  There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more.  I don’t expect you to ever understand.  I don’t understand myself.  I love you and your mother so much.  I’m giving you the car out in the driveway for your birthday.  It’s the very best I could afford.  The gift I’m giving your mother is to step away.  That’s the best I can do for her, as well.”

And with that, he was gone.

Of course Kelly didn’t know how to respond when he woke up and read the note.  The idea of his very own car was a fantasy most young men looked forward to.  But the vague admissions and references in the note tempered any excitement Kelly might have felt.

When he shared the note with his mother she wasn’t completely surprised, but was numb enough to not try to speculate on if or when her husband might return.  She loved Arch, but could not endure much more of the roller coaster that life had become being married to him.  “It might be a good thing for your father to be gone for a while,” she told her son.  Then she wished Kelly a happy birthday.

While she prepared his favorite breakfast in the kitchen, she watched her son through the kitchen window that looked out on the driveway.  Arch hadn’t told her he was getting the car for the boy.  The yellow over red and black leather upholstery convertible was a fitting ride for her now 18-year-old son.  A handsome lad, just as his father had been at that age, he looked good behind the wheel.  Dashing, even.

Kelly drove the convertible to classes at Jim Bowie High School, “Home of the Fightin’ Knives,” for the last four months of his senior year.  Ten years old, the ’53 Ford held up well and was a hit with his friends at school.  It became a fixture at the Dairy Twin on Friday nights, or out at the Prairie View Drive-In on Saturdays.  He and his best friend, Tab Clifton, would double date with Tab’s cousin and her best friend from Our Lady of Immeasurable Concern.  After the movie they’d drive out to Lake Leon and talk about what they’d each do after graduation.

If the stars were out and Tab’s cousin was cooperative, they’d neck a little bit before driving back to town.  Nothing of much consequence, although one time she let him slide his hand up underneath her shirt.  Thinking the effects of a well kept old Ford convertible might finally be taking hold, he quickly discovered the limitations of the Sunliner when his attempts to slide his fingers under her bra were shut down quicker than Russian Missile Bases on Cuba the previous fall.

“I’ll bet if I hadn’t been in the backseat with her best friend she’dve let you have a little of that,” Tab said later.  “She is my cousin, after all.”

By the time he walked across the stage for graduation Kelly had come to accept that his father wasn’t coming back home.  Willa and he didn’t talk about it.  There was no point.  Although he felt guilty admitting it, life seemed easier without him there.  Kelly loved his dad, but hated the way Arch talked to his mother when he’d been drinking.  The damage caused by the bitter words weren’t made up for by the apologies that followed.  Still, Kelly and Willa each wondered where he might have gone, or if he’d ever be back.

They didn’t talk about what would happen after graduation either.  There was never any discussion of college.  The money wasn’t there for that, nor had Kelly ever shown any inclination towards such a thing.  He figured he’d get a full-time job, but was none too eager to cross that bridge before he had to.  So he was surprised the day after graduation when his bags were packed and placed in a neat row next to the side door just outside the kitchen.

Kelly almost tripped on them when he walked into the kitchen.  “Are we going somewhere?”

“You are.”  Willa didn’t even look up from the stove as she spoke.  Kelly didn’t realize that was so he couldn’t see her cry.  “You’re going to your cousin’s house for the summer.  Then we’ll see.”

“Toby?” Kelly asked, not sure which cousin his mother was referring to.  “The cousin in Grand Prairie?”

“That’s the one.  Aunt Nellie and Uncle Todd suggested it.  I was hesitant at first, but the longer I thought about it, the better I liked the idea.”  She finally turned around and looked at her son.  “Toby has a job at that new amusement park they built in Arlington.  He can get you on there.  Nellie and Todd have an extra room since Tyler moved out and went off to college.”  She had to stop talking for a minute while she regained her composure.

“So do I have a say in this?” Kelly asked.

“Of course you do,” she responded. But then she stoped and thought about it.  “No, not really.  You need to see someplace other than Fort Stockton.  Get away.  Clear your head.  Figure out what you what you want to do with your life.  This is the perfect chance with little or no downside.”

Neither spoke for a while while she moved the scrambled eggs around in the skillet.

“We’re both having to get used to life without your father.  I need to get used to life without you, as well.  Toby said that working at Six Flags is the perfect summer job.  You’ll meet new people and gain valuable experience you couldn’t get if you stayed here.”

Kelly didn’t have an argument.  It felt like it wouldn’t have mattered if he did, anyway.  The thought of spending the summer someplace other than Fort Stockton actually held some appeal.  He wished he’d have been part of the discussion, but in the end was glad he hadn’t had to deal with it.

The only person Kelly called before he left Fort Stockton was his best friend, Tab Clifton.  “Tell your cousin she missed her opportunity,” he joked as he explained he’d be gone for the summer.

“I’m sure there’s a long line of volunteers to feel her up once you’re no longer available,” Tab joked.  He couldn’t believe his buddy was going to be gone for the summer.  Kelly couldn’t really believe it either.

But the next morning the top was down on the Sunliner, his bags were in the trunk, and the only stop he made on the way out of town was at the ESSO station to top off the tank.  He put a map of Texas he bought AT THE ESSO in the small square glove compartment.  Underneath the map was a small package of condoms he’d purchased in the men’s room.  He hoped he’d have a need for one of them, and not the other as he started the journey that would define the summer of 1963.

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