Story Up On Hartford Ridge

O

Old Gray Mare

TB Fanatic
Thanks again Mother Hen. Looking forward to your next instalment.

Hard times weed out fair weather friends and family quick. Just because the rest have problems doesn't automatically make those problems yours. It amuses me how mature wisdom seems to mirror the ability to say "No." politely.
 
Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Chapter 136​


“Don’t turn out like Old Man Baffa.” Sawyer’s words have been haunting me for a while now. Old Man Baffa. Crazy Old Man Baffa. My uncle, or at least my father’s uncle. Jacob Baffa, the reason why I have my current life. A man it had been a long time since I’d given much thought to … until that night. “Don’t turn out like Old Man Baffa.”

I’d wondered a bit why he’d been like he was but let other people tell me and then convince me. He was just crazy. It had to do with his time in the military. It had to do with the fact he was just mean and drove people off. And honestly when I started looking once again, needing to understand why Jacob Baffa had turned into what he was, I found all those things to be true. He was crazy or as good as, at least some of it due to his time in the military and the places he had to go and the things he had to do while there. And at some point in his life he did start running people off … but not so much because he was mean but because he no longer trusted people and didn’t want to be hurt anymore.

I discovered after finally taking the time to go through all those family papers that he’d left for me to unearth that it wasn’t Shallaylee Duncan’s grandmother that had arranged and planted all those weird, out of place, hedges and trees on the farm, it was Uncle Jacob’s first wife … only real, legal wife. And apparently they’d been so happy together that it would have given you diabetes it was so sweet. Then he got sent overseas to fight a war that never got the title and when he came back things had changed. He came back and realized the little girl that everyone assumed was his daughter … wasn’t. His best friend and his wife had two-timed him. The wife had left not long after and I haven’t got the exact timeline down because all the people in the story are dead, but basically when she left she revealed her character to be a lot weaker than even Uncle Jacob had revealed to him by the affair. She’d taken up drinking and a few other things while he was off fighting battles that would haunt him the rest of his life for the freedom of other people, yet because of that losing more and more of his own. The “best friend” and “wife” and that little girl got into a race with a train while under the influence and … lost. All three of them buried in California someplace by his in-laws that spread terrible lies rather than reveal what really happened.

Uncle Jacob had some affairs of his own after that, but not with married women and they weren’t back to back but had years between them as it took him a while between each to get up the nerve, or need, to make the effort and try one more time. One of them was Shallaylee’s grandmother’s mother but she too had betrayed him by sleeping around and he never was sure if Shallaylee’s grandmother was his daughter or not and they all refused to take blood tests to check because I guess maybe Shallaylee’s grandmother’s mother wasn’t really sure either for a long time … at least until Shallaylee’s mom was born looking so much like Aunt Pet’s kids … or so I was told … and there was a bunch of drama that wound up with Shallaylee’s grandmother deciding for all of them some things that might have been better off not being written in stone … or maybe it was. I’m not going to second guess the situation. There were other things and other hurts and Uncle Jacob became Crazy Old Man Baffa for good at some point, I think after Aunt Pet died and there was no one else in the family that tried to do anything for him or with him. Maybe it was that the last person willing to try and he was once and for all alone even though there were people – like me – that could have made him less alone if he hadn’t been afraid of being hurt.

I didn’t learn all of that from those papers. I have a cousin who’s kid was doing some genealogy project for her side of the family. She wrote a letter to Uncle Jacob that I took out of the mail not quite knowing what to do with. I was just going to write “return to sender” but the return address just drove me crazy enough to change my mind. Leandra Hoffstetter and underneath in parenthesis – daughter of Pet Baffa Deering.

Inside it explained how her son was creating a genealogy book for the family but she wanted her mother’s side included … the Baffa side. Long and the short of it all she was really asking for was a picture of the homestead as Aunt Pet’s Bible had the family genealogy inside of it but little else. And my parents’ and my name was even in the one she sent along for Uncle Jacob to correct or add notes to if he was so inclined.

After talking to Sawyer about it, he wasn’t against me contacting the woman and letting her know that Uncle Jacob had passed away. “But Babe, don’t be disappointed if nothing comes of it. Your Aunt Pet had ten years on your father and it’s been almost two decades since she passed. She doesn’t even mention your Uncle Robert so who knows about that but … just … be careful. Please?” It took me a while to understand he was more worried about me getting my feelings hurt than he was worried about me letting family secrets out … Hartford family secrets. That made me feel better. He trusted me.

Well, long and the short of it is Leandra is as nice as people tell me my Aunt Pet was. Her husband is a pastor. And the son doing the genealogy is named Lee … after his uncle Lee Deering who was named after my father Lee Baffa who was named after another Lee in the family line that I knew nothing about who was also named after yet another Lee. It was him that wrote back, and it must have been the same day my letter would have arrived there it came so quick. He sent me an email and asked if it was better or easier for me to do it that way. In truth it was, and cheaper too. We’ve finally got cell signal back up here on the Ridge … had to to make those programs the CI has work efficiently … and Sawyer has insisted we have phone service for emergencies and what not. We keep our phones charged with a wind up charger but Sawyer is working on a way to get a solar generator but that is money we won’t have until we make sure the taxes on this place are paid at the end of the year. We might give it to each other for a Christmas present if it can be arranged.

Well I wouldn’t say I’ve become besties with that side of my family but there’s a connection there. And Leandra also put me in touch with people related to my mother, including my grandparents which was a shock for all concerned. My mother was the baby of her family the same way my father was the baby of his so my grandparents are pretty old … older than Gramps and Uncle Ned … but they sure don’t sound frail. I found out they were told by a social worker that I hadn’t survived one of my surgeries and they were at first suspicious of my identity. I didn’t go out of my way to prove my identity to them but …

I am Kay-Lee Baffa. My cousin Leandra Deering Hoffstetter gave me your address after we “met” under unexpected circumstances. She says that you are my mother’s family. I was just writing to let you know that I am not dead. She told me you all were terribly broke up over my parents dying and that her mother, Pet, and you had tried to spring me from the foster care system. I am just writing to thank you. It was not until leaving the foster care system that I found out anyone had. I am now married and raising my nephew and niece because their parents were taken too early, the way may parents were. It had made me sensitive to what you all must have gone through, and then to find out you were told that I was dead just makes me feel badly on your behalf. Please don’t feel bad for being suspicious of my identity. I understand. I’m not sure what I would think in your shoes. It wasn’t my intention to bother you with any of this, just to say thank you. Sincerely, Kay-Lee Baffa Hartford

Three weeks later I got a letter addressed from a lawyer, asking me for information on my identity. They left a phone number.

“Hello? I was told to call this number by a Mr. Arthur Enns.”

“Your name?”

“Um … Kay-Lee Baffa Hartford.”

“Excuse me, did you say Kay-Lee Baffa Hartford?”

“Yes sir.”

“This is Arthur Enns. I’d like to know how you got my parents’ information.”

“Er … are you referring to Mr. and Mrs. Peter Enns?”

“I am.”

I went through the entire explanation again and then said, “Sir, I didn’t mean to upset them. I just wanted to tell them thank you for trying and to say I wasn’t dead.”

“And what did you expect to get from that?”

“Um … I’m not sure exactly what you mean but from my side of things I didn’t really expect to get anything. Leandra … the lady that gave me your information … said it would be the right thing to do and after thinking it over I agreed with her. If it has caused any problems, my apologies. Can you please let Mr. and Mrs. Enns know that I now understand that my intentions might have been good, but I also understand that the road to hell is paved with good intentions and I never meant to bother them. Now if you’ll excuse me …”

“Wait!”

“Excuse me?”

“Can you prove who you are? Tell me about your mother.”

“Uh … I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about my mother, I don’t know much more about my father except the stories Leandra has told me. I do know my mother doesn’t come from around here originally, but had been visiting relatives and going to school here when she and my father met, but that’s about it. They didn’t tell me anything while I was in foster care and I only found out a little bit about my father’s family after I married and my husband’s older sister remembered my Aunt Pet.”

“Nothing?”

“No Sir. Not really. I’ve got one picture of her, but it was one published in the newspaper with the eco-terrorists when on trial and that I didn’t find until I got nosey and went looking when I was in high school.”

“Nothing?”

“Well, there’s my birthmark. My mother had one although hers was blonde on brown according to that newspaper picture. Mine used to be light brown but now it is white. The doctors told me it is called a fawn. I don’t suppose that means much thought as my mother’s hair was brown and mine has always been black.”

“Who do you look like?”

“I don’t know to be honest. I look in the mirror only when I have to and when I do I only see me.”

“Would it be possible to send me a picture of yourself?”

“I … er … suppose so. Or do you have the ability to do videos?”

Well the long and the short of it I must look enough like my birth-mother, despite the differences that it startled him and from there a door was opened and I guess we are all still trying to figure out what that means. My mother’s death was a traumatizing event for her family. It started some fractures and my “death” cemented in wedges. Having me not be dead … well, it is causing some confusion I guess. There are a couple of them that are angry and want to know why I didn’t try and contact them before. There are some still suspicious that I am who I say I am. My grandparents aren’t exactly ambivalent, but they aren’t sure what they should do about my existence either. I’m tried to explain that no one needs to do anything but I guess that’s kinda hard for them to accept too. I now spend Sunday’s answering and sending correspondence … some letters (to my grandparents) and most emails (whoever sends me a digital letter).

Here it is November, and everyone seems to believe I am who I am. My grandparents and I just explain what we do during our days. They seem to find it endlessly fascinating that I’m living closer to the way they grew up than any of their children did. My bio-mom’s brother name Aruthur became a lawyer. Her sister became nurse and was married four times before getting sick and dying. Her kids are the ones that are the most angry about me not looking sooner because their mother always talked about her sister and being so heartbroken and they think that is why she messed up in life so much. Well, I’m not taking the blame for that but I do give them as much understanding as I can. Uncle Arthur is a busy man and doesn’t know quite what to make of me. His family doesn’t live anything like his parents, or how he did as a boy. They are grieving all over again so it is a careful step by step process.

# # # # #

“Babe? Got another letter.”

I limped out of the pantry and … “Sawyer?!”

“Er … yeah. But you don’t need to get upset. Everything is worked out.”

“Worked out?! You look worked over!! Oh my gawd, sit down and let me get a damp cloth.” I did and started cleaning his face. “What happened,” I asked trying to be calm.
 
M

moldy

Veteran Member
I get it. People reveal who they really are, and sometimes I am greatly disappointed. I'm sure others are with me. It's natural to take a step back and to evaluate if the disappointment is worth the effort.

Doing that enough times though, could easily make you decide no contact is worth the effort and it's better to be a hermit.
 
Sammy55

Sammy55

Veteran Member
Just catching up and thoroughly enjoying the new chapters!! I'm excited for Kay-Lee! She's got family of her own now! I'm sure they are/were skeptical of her at first, but she handled herself great, and maybe there's some hope for good relationships to build. I hope she gets to meet them sometime soon.
 
Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Chapter 137​


Some people make things happen.
Some people watch things happen.
Some people wonder what on earth just happened.

Sawyer is one of those people that makes things happen. That has been a wonderful for me and for the Hartford family … and beyond. Lately it feels like I fall into the last two categories no matter how I might think I was in that first category for a while. After I got so sick and frail it is like I am frozen, or maybe that there is a wall around me that is ice.

“Sawyer. What. Happened.”

He sighed. “Babe …”

“Did your family have anything to do with this?”

He was silent then quietly said, “Not directly.”

“What does ‘not directly’ mean? Did they set you up?!”

“No. Or at least, it wasn’t intentional. You would have thought the knotheads would have learned from what happened to Jamison.”

It took me a moment to put two and two together. I nearly hissed like a cat I was so fired up. “Are you telling me those idiots were bragging?! And got called out for it or something?”

“Er … something like that. They were bragging and … I tried to stop them from getting killed.”

I had to stop wiping his face so I could flop down in a kitchen chair before I threw myself on the floor and threw a tantrum. Sawyer turned to find me with my hands in fists in my lap and he said my eyes were scrunched tightly closed and my face was a mask of fury. Those were his words … a mask of fury. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t a mask, that it was my real face and how I was really feeling.

“Sawyer, just tell me you are okay,” I finally all but begged, breathing slow and measured through my nose.

“I’m okay. A little scuffed up but the CI’s militia men broke up the battle pretty fast once it had gone far enough they weren’t given any choice but to take an interest in it.”

“The battle?! And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means the rules are the community has first dibs on most stuff and only after it becomes something like breaking up public property or something along that order are they allowed to get involved.”

Still ruminating on his injuries I said, “That cut on your arm … it’s from a knife isn’t it.”

“Er, no. From a machete.”

“From a machete?!!” I wanted to know what kind of “battle” was he talking about.

“Easy Babe, it was a slice, not a hack job.”

“Those IDIOTS!!! Which ones?! Which ones?!!!”

“Babe! Take it easy. Jolene is going to hear you and Burt will be home from school any minute. I don’t want him to hear you having a fit.”

That outrage just about took my breath away.

He backtracked fast when he saw how I’d taken his words. “Er … okay, that might not have come out exactly right. I just mean … aw hell, I don’t want to make him think we are fighting.”

“WE, are not fighting Sawyer Hartford. However, I might just find a hole and dump some of your idiot cousins in it for the remainder of eternity. And I don’t care if they get ‘scuffed up’ on the way in and down. The only reason I am not doing it right this second is because I mostly like their parents, I think, and because I want the full doggone story before I go strip some skin off them.”

He muttered, “You’ve been taking lessons from Barb. When I took Huely back to their place she was threatening to stake a few of them out and covering them up in chigger infested grass and forget where she left ‘em.”

“That’s another thing we could do,” I told him, liking the way Barb was thinking.

“Babe, none of the cousins beat on me.”

“But they set you up.”

“Not intentionally.”

“Are you honestly defending them?!!”

He took a deep breath and took my hands in his. “Babe, I’m here. I haven’t left you. You are not alone.”

“Well neither are you and this time instead of you being the one to take all the licks for that, I am going to knock the holy living snot out of …”

“Whoa.”

“Whoa what?!” I snapped, irritated that I wasn’t being taken seriously. It only made me want to hit something … preferably someone … even more.

“You’re … er … righteously pizzed.”

“Yes. I. Am.”

“Obviously I have not explained the situation well. Wanna come sit with me by the stove?”

“If it means you trying to sweet talk me out of wishing death and destruction on your idiot cousins and then doing something about actually having it come to pass you can just think again Sawyer McGee Hartford.”

“Er … you used my entire name.”

“You are not honestly trying to make me laugh this off are you?!”

“Well, maybe not laugh it off but … I’d give it a good solid attempt to bring you down outta the trees.”

I warned him, “You are not helping. In fact, I’m thinking of taking the wagon to see Barb and maybe the two of us can …”

“No. Nope. Uh uh. There’s been enough blood and trauma. And I still need work out of the ones you and she would catch and likely frighten to death at this point. Just come sit with me so I can get this told before Burt gets home.”

# # # # #

Fine. Maybe the cousins did not set him up or participate in the beat down. And maybe some of those knuckleheads even got beat on worse which is why Sawyer got involved. Saying he saved them from getting killed might not be as far from the truth as it sounded when he first said it. And Sawyer saying some of them are likely to get beat on by their big brothers for being idiots doesn’t hurt my feelings at all either. But they were at least partially responsible for starting it because they were egging on some of the “immigrants” hanging around the old Bait and Tackle looking for work … hiring them is more illegal than them being in the country these days. People still do it but not in the county where the ag work is they used to depend on. And if the CI catches you, you better pray the paperwork you have on them looks good enough to pass inspection or you’ll be a lot worse off due to fines and penalties than had you simply hired someone with a valid green card and paid the employment taxes. The immigrants resent that. They resent it a lot and in other places they’ve gotten used to being able to intimidate people who take “their” jobs to pay them just to get gone.

I have some compassion for them, went to school with some of them and even was friends with them, not to mention I spoke and still speak Spanish. But, there is a line they crossed and they have to deal with the consequences. I’m not lording anything over them, but I work just as hard as they do to keep my family from starving and I don’t break the law to do it. I will admit they are caught between a rock and a hard place because “cash” isn’t of any value these days, not even gold and silver, only the digital currency and “credits” that can be used at food distribution centers, etc. Which adding insult on top of injury to the way of life they’d become used to, they must show proof they’ve paid both federal and state taxes. If they bring something into trade at a pawn shop type of place like has popped up in town, they must prove ownership of the item with an original sales receipt. If they have a valid green card and can actually find someone to hire them, they have to pay their income taxes in advance rather than in arrears at the end of the year. They can’t own a car, house, or get a driver’s license since they can’t do things like get insurance or get a business license without being here legally and paying a lot of money in fees and having a huge bond on file. Bottom line is it has made that population a little on the sensitive side, especially those that were born in this country to illegal parents, as simply being born here no longer guarantees you a social security number, green card, or any of that.

What the goobers (meaning the younger cousins) did was start talking big. It was in reaction to the attempted intimidation by the “immigrants” but that still wasn’t the smartest way to handle it. But what can you expect from testosterone poisoned high school males that had their pride tweaked, especially after some names got let out of the bag. Apparently those working with the CI, which the illegals hate with a passion to the point they’ve tried to assassinate him a couple of times, only creating more trouble for their population, are already known and the Hartford name in particular is well known. Gramps and the uncles only hired through companies that brought in supposedly legal ag workers … well they used to prior to the year of all the marriages. After that they didn’t hire any outside workers at all, they simply put all the boys to work. Then the old CI pretty much brought in his own harvesters and inspectors.

The immigrants are getting desperate. They used to avoid the troubles in their home countries by coming here to work or getting refugee status and getting all sorts of charitable and government help. Doesn’t work that way these days as there are now stuff at the federal level saying taxpayer funded assistance of people here illegally is no longer lawful. Even illegals in the prison system are put to work to earn their keep. And charities is slim to none for them with immigration places closed and if you are caught you are simply drop shipped back where you came from under heavy guard or you are air flighted to penal barges and supplies are drop shipped every third week including fresh water. No guards necessary as the Coast Guard and Navy take turns blowing up any boats that come near. Things are hard enough in some countries that people try to get into those barges from outside and the inmates have had to fight off a few rounds of boat people that came to take the food and water they need to survive on. If you are sent to one of those barges, you are basically forgotten about as individuals and the court system has basically said, “we’ll get back around to you after the war is over so until then you’re just going to have to sit tight.”

An hour later after Burt had come home – having already heard the gossip about the riot – and Jolene was up from her nap, Sawyer got my attention. “Babe?”

I looked at him still trying not to be mad that yet again Sawyer had to take some lumps that he might have volunteered for, but he didn’t deserve.

“I need you to come to the family meeting tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know you don’t want to go. I know it is going to be a hassle to bring the kids. But I need you to come. It is a potluck and everyone in the family is bringing something.”

“Why?” I asked. I saw the Hartfords at church nearly every Sunday and got my fill of some of them, but if Sawyer needed something in particular, I was willing to listen.
 
O

Old Gray Mare

TB Fanatic
Griz3752 said:
A woman scorned is a force not to be ignored, unless you're suicidal. A woman whose family has been threatened .... well, that's where "Momma Bear" originated . . . . .
Click to expand...
A sensi told me the most dangerous human on the face of the earth was a mother protecting her children.

So Kay-Lee gets the opportunity to face them...? And Sawyer wants her there? Hope he's bringing bandages along with the casserole. Mother Hen you know we can only hold on to the edge of these cliffs so long?
:popcorn1:
 
Last edited:
Texican

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
A sensi told me the most dangerous human on the face of the earth was a mother protecting her children.

Yep, when it comes to children, a mother has no pity and will use everything handy to end the threat to her children.

Texican...
 
F

Freebirde

Senior Member
Before I figured out that I wasn't good at teaching, I tried to teach self-defense. I taught that most women could only hit half as hard as a similar size male, but she will hit you three times in the time a male would hit you once, and she will HURT you. Plus, Kay Lee has that stick now. If she really wants to put fear in them, she could take a skillet of cornbread or something.
 
Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________
Sorry everyone, my schedule is just crazy right now. This is a short transition chapter, but hopefully it is enough for now. It picks up immediately where the other chapter left off.

---------------------------

Chapter 138​


“Why? ‘Cause I need some support.”

“You don’t think I’m supporting you?” I asked, my feelings getting all kinds of pinched.

“No! I mean yes! Dat burnit, I’m not saying this right and getting my tongue tied around my eye teeth. What I mean is that I need some support, not that you haven’t given me any. I need you there specifically at the family meetings.”

“At the meetings.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I need someone to watch my back but also to watch my front and to throw a frying pan at anyone, including me, if our cheese starts sliding off our crackers.”

That did not give me warm and fuzzy feelings.

“You realize it is going to cause a fight … not argument … but fight, if I catch any of them being idiots. I’m done being walked all over by those that try and take that route.”

“You’re that sure of that.”

“Sawyer. I love you. I love that you – despite everything – love your family and are doing the best job that they get out of the way and let you do. You give me confidence in people that I’d lost once and then lost the second time around as well. You are fearless, and that’s what I want Burt and Jolene to grow up and be. But I’m …” I stopped and sighed. “I’m just not sure how much I love your family, at least not the way I used to. I’m sorry. I’ve forgiven them because Brother Don showed me in the Bible where it says it is a requirement, not a suggestion. That if we want to be forgiven for the things we do wrong, we need to learn by being like God. But the rest of it? There’s days I know I try better than others. And …”

“Whoa Babe. Stop. You are starting to sound like a bear is sitting on your chest.” He surprised me by putting his arm around me, like I was the one that needed to be comforted. “I am not asking you to go back to the way things used to be, especially not with some of them, maybe any of them. I don’t want you to think that because I’ve taken on the job of being Trustee that I expect you to be one too. But I am asking you to be a Trustee to me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not understanding Sawyer.”

“Look, I need someone that absolutely has my back. I know you do. One hundred percent. If you want to keep your interactions with the family limited, I get it. But Babe, I do need something from you. I need you to be a second set of eyes. Huely and Uncle Mark? They do but, sometimes I catch them telling me what I want to hear instead of maybe being a little harsher. They want things … or maybe need things … to work out between me and the others. And I get that but it’s not ever going back to the way things used to be. I’m not that man anymore. I’m still a Hartford. I willingly took on the idea of being the go-to fix-it man, but life and the world has changed and me and the family right along with it but not necessarily in the same way. I … I need someone that can stand in that gap, supporting me, giving me grace when I screw it up and who will help me find solutions, not just point the problems out.”

“You aren’t asking for much,” I told him, rolling my eyes but batting my lashes at the same time.

He got the message and slowly grinned. “You won’t regret it.”

“Oh no! Find a piece of wood and knock on it right now Sawyer before you jinx us.”

He laughed and I tried to for his sake. But I also made a mental note to bring the “cannon” I used to carry when I went foraging at night. And my least favorite iron skillet in case it got damaged or cracked. You never know, you just never know.
 
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