Becoming the Storm
15 The Kit
I BEGGED OFF all family interaction Friday, claiming indigestion. After getting through a few polite parental inquiries and having my mother feel my forehead and scowl, I was given two aspirin, a bowl of turkey soup, and Dani. With so many people at the ranch, I wasn’t really missed by most people.
My casa knew, of course. Even Dani had to go spend time with her parents and sisters, so there was a steady stream of one or two at a time sitting with me while I lay in bed. It was Cassie and Hannah who finally got the whole story out of me. Not just the hurt that Geoff, Kevin, and Robyn were enduring, but my feeling of helplessness—that I couldn’t do anything.
Hannah knew what I was going through and felt guilty about it. She knew that when she’d been a wreck, I wanted to fix it and make it better. She knew she’d put me through hell with her own depression and self-destructive tendencies. I reassured her. I would do it all again, just because I loved her. She and Cassie bracketed me in the bed and we held our naked bodies together and cried.
Cassie had been Robyn’s friend even before she joined our group. Back then, Robyn thought our agreement was a virginity pledge—well, it had to be if Cassie was involved, right? It had been Cassie who had explained what the rules really meant. Still, because of the way we treated each other, Robyn’s virginity was hers to keep as long as she wanted. She and Geoff had immediately become close friends and, to all appearances, a couple. It protected her virginity and Geoff’s secret. When Geoff was outed at senior prom, Robyn continued to hang out with Geoff and Kevin. When they took off on a cross-country road trip with the destination being to get Kevin to Washington State University in Pullman, Robyn went with them. They’d returned to Indiana only during the summers to help on the ranch.
How had she managed to fall so far so fast from the time they left in August to return to Pullman? We needed to bring them home again. Show them all how much we love them and care for them.
Dad had Rika and Toby saddled and waiting for me Saturday morning. He mounted the Arabian and I swung up on my little quarter horse. Several parents had taken the opportunity over the weekend to mount up with their sons or daughters and tour the new trails Del had been marking through our forest. We were three weeks from the end of the semester and already had our classes for spring semester set. Del had convinced me to take a class just for fun. It was called Urban Forestry. I had a feeling I’d be spending a fair bit of time in the woods next semester.
The horses picked their way along the trails as Dad and I talked about Life, the Universe, and Everything. We’d read the book when I was in high school and both enjoyed the trilogy. Now, though, Dad was asking what the real story was.
“I understand you don’t want to talk about some things with everyone around, son, but you made a strong statement about family Thursday. I want you to know that the family you were born into is just as much concerned for you as the family you’ve created.”
“Thanks, Dad. You’re right that I didn’t want everybody looking at me yesterday and saying, ‘What’s wrong?’ It was easier to have indigestion. Things like this still get me in the gut.”
“Did you lose someone, son?”
“Almost. Robyn tried to kill herself. I found out yesterday morning when I called Geoff. Dad, it’s not fair! Her mother kept calling her to tell her how bad she was. Her mother is a complete whack job and has done her best to make Robyn into one, too. Geoff was one of my best friends and when he told me, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help.”
Dad swung off Rika and beckoned me down from Toby. He put an arm around my shoulders as I cried and we walked on for a while together, leading the horses. The day was crisp and the leaves crunched under our feet. Dad took a deep breath.
“What’s in your kit, son?”
“What do you mean? My saddle bags? Canteen and a poncho. There might be an energy bar. Are you hungry?” I asked. Dad laughed.
“After the food this weekend, I don’t dare be hungry for a long time. No. It was something my best friend Darnell used to say to me. Once we were walking along a railroad track—we must have been twelve or thirteen years old—and we heard a train coming. It was a pretty narrow passage that we shouldn’t have been fussing around on. We knew we’d have to either jump into the ditch on one side or the blackberries on the other. He looked at me and said, ‘What’s in your kit?’ I said I could swim so we both jumped off into the ugliest, awfulest ditch water you can imagine. The train went by—a long one, so we had to wait down in that water what seemed like forever. Then we crawled back up on the tracks and dragged ourselves back home. Darnell said, ‘Maybe we should put Band-Aids in our kit and jump in the berries next time!’” I laughed at Dad’s little story. I guessed he was trying to lighten the mood.
“Who was Darnell? Did I ever meet him?” I asked.
“No. He was Jim Swift’s little brother. Doug’s uncle. My best friend.”
“Doug and Doreen have never mentioned having an uncle.”
“I doubt Jim’s ever told them other than to see it in a family tree or something. He’s never talked about it with anyone as far as I know. It was Viet Nam. I know that we think back on it and lots of kids were killed there. The draft scared the shit out of us. But there were all kinds of deferments, including being the only son on a working farm. That was me. Darnell knew that he wouldn’t make it in college like his brother had—Jim’s several years older. That was pretty much a guarantee that he’d get drafted. So he enlisted. He didn’t come home.”
“Gosh, Dad. I’m sorry.”
“It’s been twenty-five years, son. He went in as a medic to save lives and got killed. It still hurts my stomach. The thing is, Darnell always talked about what was in his kit. I think he got it from Boy Scouts or Indian Guides. At one time or another he was a member of both. He had a kit for everything. He even had a survival kit in case we were hit by a nuclear bomb.” I laughed. “Remember, when I was in school, they were teaching us to ‘duck and cover’ if we saw a bright flash. Drills all through grade school as frequent as fire drills. ‘Okay, kids. Duck and cover.’ And we’d all hide under our desks because that would protect us from dangerous fallout.”
“Holy shit, Dad. They believed that?”
“And it wasn’t even the Stone Age,” Dad laughed. “But Darnell believed in emergency kits. He had one for camping. He had one in case of a flood. He had one in case his house caught on fire. But more importantly, we made up imaginary survival kits. A kit to survive Mrs. Boaz’s senior composition class. A kit to survive a bad date. A kit for being caught drinking. Yes, we did that, too. We’d be out and hear a funny joke and Darnell would say ‘Put that in your kit, Hayden. If you ever get a date with Marilyn, you’ll need something to say.’ When he found out Marilyn and I had been on a date and kissed, he got really serious with me. ‘Put that kiss in your kit, Hayden. There might be a time when you really need it.’ The last thing he said to me before he was shipped off to Viet Nam… He gave me a big hug and said, ‘Put that in your kit, Hayden.’ And then he was gone.”
Dad’s eyes were leaking and I knew he still remembered his best friend. I wrapped my arm around my father’s waist as he had his around my shoulders.
“The thing is, Brian, even today I sometimes get that hug out of my kit. You’ve got a lot of responsibility. You’ve got friends. You’ve had a ton more experience than I had at your age, but we both know you haven’t even come close to experiencing everything. Build yourself a kit. Talk to people who are smarter than me—like Dr. McCall. John Clinton. Even Bart Wood. That guy’s got some serious smarts hidden behind that hillbilly façade. Put together what you need to cope with what’s coming. You can’t meet every crisis physically like you did with Jessica’s tormentors, the bullies who beat you, Denise’s murderer, Hannah’s boyfriend, the group that tried to break in out here a couple years ago. I know you use your brains and your smarts, but put more things in your kit. You can even represent some of them with real things. A Band-Aid. A teabag. A bar of chocolate. A special piece of music. The number 42. Whatever it takes.” Dad turned to me and stopped. He gave me a big hug and just held me. I could feel his love for me. “Put that in your kit, too.”
I didn’t want to just give Geoff a bunch of money. I knew he’d reject that. We all have our pride. But I went to see Louise when everyone returned home on Sunday evening. We talked and she took a couple percent from my share of revenues from summer production and split it among Geoff, Kevin, and Robyn. Their November check would help to get them financially stable and it would just come in as a seasonal increase in their royalties.
I also got Sam to arrange tickets for the three of them to join us as soon as Kevin was finished with his last final. I wanted them here where I could help build their kits. I started introducing the concept to my casa. We even started putting together a stress-reliever kit that anyone could use. It was in a box by the fireplace. Everybody could put something into the box and any of us could use anything in the box. But it had to be a genuine stress-reliever. We all recognized that food, alcohol, grass, and such just masked the symptoms.
The contents of the box grew. There were Nerf balls, CDs, and a book of meditations. Once I looked in the box and saw a vibrator and a box of condoms. We all got into it.
The Lady Hoosiers and the Hoosier Men were all about winning. Whitney’s team scored twice for every shot the Wright State women put up in their official season opener, winning 88-44. We were all present at the Full-O-Pep tourney to see them carve up Austin Peay 77-61. The men had been idle for two weeks after and played our nemesis Kansas Saturday afternoon. There was some speculation that Sugar going into labor in the third period might have contributed to their narrow loss. Lamar was waiting at the locker room to take his brother to the hospital where they had a long wait. In the meantime, the Lady Hoosiers continued to heat it up in the final game against Ohio State that night.
Leon Malcolm Trane was born at six-fifteen Sunday morning after sixteen hours of labor.
Lionel didn’t want to leave Sugar or his son, but was finally persuaded to go help the team beat Notre Dame on Tuesday. The Ladies responded with a victory over Ball State at Muncie. Regina was hustling all over the ranch with her new grandbaby. Sugar tagged along, not much worse for wear and beaming like she’d just won the lottery. Well, hell. She had.
Doreen snuggled up against me that night and whispered in my ear.
“I don’t want to wait until Matthew is too old before we start on his sister,” she said. I came to instant attention and we started practicing.
We had lots of birthday celebrations in December. Some were low-key and some were splashy. We had a good celebration of Josh’s twenty-first on Thursday. I think every woman in the casa took special care to see that he was thoroughly kissed and fully aroused before Cassie sank down on his cock. And then many of the girls seemed to want him to get a very close look at their pussies while Cassie and Mary fucked him. From the sounds of it, he got a good taste as well.
On Saturday, we celebrated my son’s first birthday. The Hoosier basketball teams both made it exciting as the men took down Western Michigan and the women dealt a severe blow to Indiana State. I held Matthew in my arms as we watched the game and spent the night with Casa del Agua, loving and celebrating our little miracle. I looked at Doug and Doreen and thought how amazing it was that my father and their uncle had been best friends. Dad told me that Jim and Jill had married about the same time Mom and Dad had, even though Jim was several years older. They’d all married just after they got the word about Darnell. Dad said Jim was never quite the same and even though he went through the motions of being a good husband, father, and provider, he became more and more remote. They’d been here for Thanksgiving and then flown back to Florida without staying for their grandson’s birthday.
That was the end of peace and calm for the next week. Sunday morning, we were all studying in earnest for our finals. I got an early start on reviewing my Nuclear Chemistry notes even though the exam for that class wasn’t until Tuesday. Monday morning, I had Biological Chemistry followed by the Media Management exam. I’d have the Probability and Statistics exam on Wednesday and Quantity Food Procurement on Thursday—my last exam.
By noon, Hannah was buzzing in and out, jumping up and down, and generally acting frantic. She never was much for studying this way. I tried to go through the notes with her and she kept jumping up to move to a different seat or get a glass of water.
“Hannah,” I whispered. She was getting near a panic attack. “What’s in your kit?” She looked first at the box by the fireplace and then back at me. She wrinkled up her forehead.
“Horses?”
I took her hand and the two of us dressed and went out to ride. It was cloudy and cold. Toby and Tyler were obedient when we whistled for them, but I didn’t think they were too enthused. Even Jingo didn’t do more than raise his head to look at us before he went back to munching his hay, huddled with the other horses. We saddled up and rode away.
After two hours, both of us were relaxed and joking. We spent another half hour just brushing horses under the shelter, one after another. We especially spent time brushing Jingo and Silk. They loved it and we were both calm when we went back in to study some more. Elaine collected Hannah mid-afternoon to talk about the show and I turned to study Biological Chemistry for the rest of the evening.
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