Story Up On Hartford Ridge

Sammy55

Sammy55

Veteran Member
Thank you so MUCH, Kathy, for the new chapter!! But...you are going to have to work fast to rescue me. I've got one foot on the cliff and the other is dangling over it. HELP!! LOL!!

I'll wait as patiently as I can for the next chapter, but it's a mite uncomfortable (and dangerous!) being in this position. (hint, hint)
 
Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
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Chapter 140​


I don’t know if it was intentional or just what, but about the time the meeting started Linda came over and asked if I’d help finish setting up the buffet line for the family potluck. I wanted to say no as I’d finally gotten comfortable, but I guess it doesn’t matter to be honest given how things turned out. Had I been relaxed I might not have seen what was happening.

I got up with my cane in hand and brace on as well. At least I didn’t clank. That tube of graphite and that can of WD40 we got in the charity stuff has definitely come in handy. And Sawyer traded some with Toby for good leather to replace the old straps and keep it oiled so I don’t sound like an ol’ saddle either. I walked around to the other side of the barn to where a long trestle table had been set up. I made sure that Sawyer knew what was going on and he let me know in our private signals that he understood.

Once I go over there all I could think was what a hack job. No one had bothered to even cover the wood used as the “tabletop” part. The soup line at the group home had never looked this bad, even on a slim to none kinda day. Found out it was because none of the women had wanted the extra washing to do and because no one apparently had the extra sheets and whatnot to lend and possibly have ruined.

“Kay-Lee …”

Being polite was all I could do and be at that point. “Hmm?”

She sighed. “We used to have such fun at the bake sales and stuff at school.”

“School seems a long time ago.”

“That’s what I told Mom. She also says I need to … er … get over myself.”

That caught me off guard. “Excuse me?”

Linda sighed, scrunched up her face like she was expecting to be slapped, and said, “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. Tommy is too. He says he is square with Sawyer and now I want to be square with you. Jeannie does too but she’s … um …”

“She’s pregnant again.”

“Yeah,” she said apologetically. “And she and Ben … they fight. I mean they make up and stuff, but they still fight. When he’s home. He’s gone a lot and … anyway, she … she just …”

“Don’t worry about it Linda.”

“You … you won’t accept my apology?”

“I already accepted it. Let’s just … let it go. I don’t know about you but I’m too tired for any more drama.”

She didn’t know what to make of what I said so I asked, “How do you want to set this up?”

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you in charge? You always were in charge of the big tables when we were in school.”

She just shrugged. “Like you said, that seems a long time ago. I’ll go ask Melissa.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you need to ask Melissa?”

“’Cause I’ll just make a mess of it and she’ll have to undo the mess so I don’t get in trouble.”

“Is Melissa in charge?”

“Uh …”

“Is she the one that told you to set up the tables?”

“No. Tommy’s mother did.”

“Then Melissa doesn’t have any say on it. Tommy's mother obviously thinks she put you in charge of this.”

“Er …” Linda wasn’t processing too well. I noticed the signs as soon as I put two and two together. Sawyer had mentioned having similar thoughts about Tommy, but that Tommy was getting over it. Hmm.

I suspected something that wasn’t very nice. And if it was true, maybe I had something I had to answer for. I may technically not have been in the wrong, then again I wasn’t in the right. Had I not felt so sorry for myself I would have seen what was going on and stopped it. It doesn’t matter about certain things; there’s right and then there’s wrong.

I’ve known Linda nearly my entire life. I know her weaknesses as well as I know my own. I know her strengths as well, and one of them isn’t being able to always be strong enough to not get manipulated or used. See Melissa was one of the wives that always tried to keep Linda and I in our places. She’s about ten years older than we are. She and Barb used to be friends but I can tell you straight up Barb has absolutely no use for her now despite Melissa trying to get back to the way they used to be. Her husband Boone wasn’t bad, but he was kinda weak and stupid but there’s a lot of that going around. There’s also family gossip that Melissa wears the pants in their marriage and that they’ve started fighting. A lot. I’ve tried to stay out of that stuff. I wish Aunt Dump wouldn’t share it, or Barbara either for that matter, but I suppose it is a habit hard to break. There always was a lot of gossiping going on during Canning Days though in hindsight I didn’t always see it for what it was.

“Linda, don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to stop listening to people tell you what you are doing wrong. Especially those that don’t spend more time telling you what you do right.”

“I don’t do much right these days. I make so many mistakes, worse than I ever did ... or maybe people were just covering it up. And ... I’m … I’m lonely. Tommy’s mom and my mom … it’s just different. They don't say anything about my mistakes but they are hiding Tommy and I so we don't get euthanized. There's no one to talk to, of course I'd just sound stupid and be stupid. Jeannie used to come by but she is sick all the time now, worse than Beth was. And when she isn’t sick Benny is being a pistol and she’s tired. And it’s not like there is gas so we can get together anyway. I miss the Canning parties.”

About that time Melissa proved that she was sticking her nose where it didn't belong and decided to make noise that interrupted the meeting agenda.

“Yeah, why didn’t we have the canning parties Kay-Lee?”

Sawyer got red hot angry and I could see that some of the Aunts and wives looked shocked. I decided to deal with it head on.

“Melissa they weren’t parties. Some people treated them that way … make a mess, have other people clean it up, use other people’s supplies and not replace it, have a lot of expectations they didn’t have any business having … but they were workdays. You should have gotten back only what you contributed. But as I remember it Melissa, there were a lot of days you weren’t there yet you still expected to get.”

“Excuse me?”

“No.”

She hadn't expected my short and not-so-sweet answer. “What?”

“I said no. I will not excuse you. I’m also not going to excuse you for what you are doing to Linda and Tommy … and likely Boone and some others in the family.” I never even gave her a chance to deny it or draw me in so she could deflect. “And I most definitely will not be manipulated or guilted into whatever plan you have rolling around in your head. So, instead of complaining about there not being any canning workdays at our place, how about you explain why you didn’t organize to have them at your place? Or why no one else volunteered to host them at their places.”

“You had the wood and the fruit.”

“And then we didn’t thanks to the old CI and his illegal shenanigans.”

“What about this year?” she asked like she’d caught me.

“What about this year?” I asked right back, forcing her opinions out in the light.

“You …” Boone tried to stop her and instead she snapped. “Oh please, everyone thinks the same thing. She’s being selfish. And it isn't hers anyway. The family needs it and she’s not sharing.”

Then I asked, “Where were you when we were starving?”

She turned to look at me.

Casually, like I wasn't about to start roasting as hot as Sawyer I told her and everyone else listing, “I get it. I’m not a Hartford by anyone’s measure except my husband’s – Sawyer Hartford. The one digging your butt out of debt. But if that is true, what right do you have to demand anything? You didn’t come check on Barbara. You didn’t come to check on the kids. And once you all did start coming around, what did you do? You stole our entire woodpile.”

“We stole nothing. We have a right to …”

“No. You don’t. Your rights end at your property line. Do you even have a property line Melissa? Have you worked for a piece of property? Or are you assuming you are going to get another handout?”

“How dare you talk to me like that you half-wit. You think you can stop us from …”

Into the quiet came a firm voice. “We’re through. I’m taking you to town and dropping you at your sister's at first light jsut like you claim you want. I wasn’t going to bring it up in company, but this is as good a time as any to admit I found them papers, just like you meant me to. The ones you had your lawyer sister to draw up. I had ‘em checked in town at the CI’s legal office. They’re legit. They’re signed by the right people. What you don’t understand and what I made sure your sister does, is that I have no assets in my name so have nothing to get. We've been living on family charity our entire marriage. It is part of the Trust. What little I did have in my name was sold to pay the debts you run up. And what your sister also knows is that since my name is listed on both of the kids’ birth certificates, I am the father of record. JayCee may not be mine, but maybe he is. Harris definitely ain't mine by blood but I’m the one that has raised him.” Several gasps right there. “The boys are going to be staying with me until you can come up with a lawyer that says otherwise, and that includes coming up with the money to pay one. And your sister has already gone on record that as a criminal defense attorney, she isn't qualfied for family or civil court and won't be representing you in the matter. I know for a fact that Darvin is listed as AWOL and is being hunted as one of those that was mixed up with that stuff in town with the old CI. And don’t bother denying the rest of it, the boy looks more like him every day. JayCee looks the spitting image of Chaz and I’ve already spoken with his parents and they are siding with me so that both boys – cousins and brothers both – have a different life than what they’d wind up with in town. The boys are mine to raise and mine to love more than their momma does. All their likely grandparents won't is a chance to know 'em as they grow up.”

Well I opened a can of worms for sure but then again it sounds like Boone had found his backbone and had already had plans of his own.

And that’s when there was a scream from the Big House and a bunch of men standing at the barn doors say, “Nobody move!” While another one said, “La 'ahad yataharaku!” A third yelled, “¡Nadie se mueva!” And a fourth yelled something that sounded like, “Méi rén dòng!”

You can guess what some of the Hartford men responded, and it wasn’t something you would hear Brother Don saying on Sunday morning from the pulpit.
 
Kathy in FL

Kathy in FL

Administrator
_______________

Chapter 141​


I wish I could describe the chaos that followed. Oh my Lord. Seriously. Just oh my Lord. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure I even remember it all in a straight sorta timeline. Things seemed to be jumping all over the place and still are in my memory. I mean I remember my bits and pieces but the overall sad, crazy tale I don’t think has yet to be put together with any kind of completeness. Well, maybe by the CI’s office but even that would leave out a lot of personal stuff and feelings. When those of us left standing had to give our deposition we were told they didn’t want to know how we felt, they only wanted facts. Well the fact is our emotions are what helped many of us to survive the battle. And battle is what it really deserves to be called though I don’t think that is what they are labeling it.

No one knew who all those people were to start with. It was like that time they arranged for my social studies class to go to the State Fair Grounds for the big International Day to celebrate Amnesty Day’s latest anniversary. There were more differences between the groups there than there were similarities. A lot of them didn’t even have any desire to be in the same room much less work together. And I suspect some of them weren’t given a choice to be there … they were treated more like zoo exhibits than willing participants. Especially the “former” gangbangers being trotted out as reformed, future citizens didn’t look happy to be on display … or really inclined to be reformed. Most of them were hauled off pretty quick when it was discovered they were there on their own type of recruiting agenda.

After noticing how many of us weren’t on the bus, and who they were, I started listening in on teachers’ conversations. I know that was rude but I’d learned if I wanted to know something about anything it would be easier to do it so the people in charge didn’t realize what they were giving away. Foster care taught me well in that respect. And I often got lumped in with the other SLD kids and the teachers would forget I wasn’t learning challenged, I was health challenged. Turned out most of our “international students” were not given permission to go by their parents or guardians because they were suspicious that something else was going on. They had good reason to be suspicious.

A lot fewer migrants accepted the Amnesty Package than was expected. Had to do with being tracked, paying both current and back taxes, signing up for the draft like all other people do when they turn eighteen, and having to give up citizenship in their home country. Not to get off track but honestly most of the illegals didn’t and don’t really want amnesty. They want the free stuff they can get here … like free public education and low income subsidies. They want the jobs they can get here. They don’t want the responsibilities of citizenship like paying taxes, social security, or being constrained by some of the laws like having a valid drivers license and auto insurance.

So anyway, and pardon me for getting off topic. It has just been a crazy time and as Sawyer says, we still have our own tails twisted over everything that has gone down.

The war seemed so far away for most of us. Sure, we’ve been impacted by, but who hasn’t? In all honesty, even those impacts didn’t give us the understanding of what we are up against. Sawyer and Huely had the most experience in that respect but they never really considered that it would come home, so to speak.

What none of us knew is that those detention facilities not too far off the Ridge, didn’t just hold “enemy combatants,” “domestic terrorists,” and other assorted yahoos out to make everyone else’s lives around here difficult before they were shipped off some place else. [cough*Bud*cough] Apparently the military had moved in, without properly notifying local government officials (according to one very furious CI who shall remain nameless just on the off chance he turns them dat blasted laser beams he has this direction), real live POWs. The facility was a former privately run high security prison and if anyone thought anything at all, it was assumed that the military was using it to house personnel and equipment. Wrong, and that’s what assuming will get you. They knew at the State level but that information was not to filter through by order of the military and the Commander in Chief and his Chiefs of Staff, none of whom wanted the hassle and disruption of having to deal with all the objections people were going to rightfully have. I suspect there is going to be a lot of challenges to the Governors in states that pulled this crapola, pardon my language. The people at any State level, and those in the Federal, might want to keep a rear view mirror handy as well to watch their backs.

So back to that night …

I was just standing there in shock trying to figure out what was going on and who those men were when there was another scream from the house. And then there was a shotgun blast that knocked the axe off the stump only a few feet from me where someone had been chopping stove wood to feed the the old barrel wood stove that was knocking the chill out of the air inside the barn. All I could think of was the kids and Barb and Cindy, in that order, and I wasn’t the only one. There were a lot of people in my way. But, apparently no one expects some gimpy woman to have good aim and know what she is doing when she doesn’t agree with being manhandled.

For a bit all I remember is swinging my skillet which I had brought with me over to help Linda in case it was needed as another container or to heat something up in on the wood stove. I don’t really think I took in the fact that there were bullets flying after a certain point until my skillet made a “BONG” noise and I felt a vibration all the way up to my shoulder blade. Then something pushed on the back of my bad leg. I went down, though I didn’t hit the ground, and felt myself pulled backwards.

“Cutter,” I growled, yanking out of his grasp. “I’m gonna clobber you!”

“Mebbe deserve it but please don’t. Sawyer will have my head.”

“You’re gonna be lucky to have a head,” I snapped as he grabbed me again. “Turn me loose.”

“Nu-uh. Where are you trying to go? We’ve got the women out.”

“Then make a way for me, I gotta get to the kids.”

“Tommy and Huely are already on it.”

“Where’s Sawyer?”

“Last I saw he was beating the hell out of a guy that thought it was a good idea to point a rifle at Gramps and Uncle Ned. And before you ask, yeah the other guy was losing. Now c’mon. Let’s git while the getting is good.”

I later found out that Barbara hadn’t bothered with a skillet. She’d shot six, most of them what she taught me was “center mass,” and then run a couple more through with the big butcher knives that hung on the magnetic strip in the kitchen. Tommy and Huely weren’t superfluous, but they didn’t have nearly as many to take on as had been expected. And it wasn’t just Barbara. Cindy got a couple with the shotgun before some of the boys forced her to get with the babies and took over taking care of business.

Barbara later told me it was like fighting with feral monkeys. Eleven and twelve year old boys might not be man-sized but they are country boys and wiry and strong. When a pack of them take you down and then start kicking the stuffing out of you with their work boots in all the parts you used to think of as manly, you are going to feel it. Burt Jr. was especially vicious. He organized the younger boys to look after all the babies and youngest kids and then he took the remainder and went to war. He didn’t bother with the wrist rocket he still carries around, he picked up a rifle and started shooting anything that wasn’t a Hartford. We are having to deal with it slowly. There’s a meanness in his eyes when strangers come around. An extreme distrust. His teacher has said he won’t let anything come around the little girls. I’ve witnessed it myself last Sunday when some visitors came to the church to talk about what went down and if any family was still in want for repairs or medical needs. And he isn’t the only one of the boys either, and not just in the Hartford family. We weren’t the only ones hit that night. Trollville, what Sawyer and I euphemistically call the people that took in Dr. Carothers, was also hit by an even larger group than The Farm. Toby’s grandfather’s place was hit and I am sorry to say that Toby’s father is dead and his grandfather in critical condition though expected to live. There were smaller attacks here and there. The church was damaged just out of meanness. A few made it all the way to town and the few seem to have caused more death and destruction there than the big groups did here on The Ridge. You might wonder about the Triage order for people on The Ridge but under the circumstances any injury or illness resulting from the failure of the federal detention facility is being covered in full.

Back to Burt. He’s been nearly impossible about Jolene being out of his sight and nearly refused to go back to school the first couple of days they had got it started back up. We’re hoping time heals some of it. We know some of it harkens back to the night his father died and we know we are going to have to be careful with how we handle it. Unfortunately we are secretly wondering if maybe that’s not the way he and the kids his age are going to have to go to survive in the world as it is shaping up to be. There’s going to be an “us” and a “them” and to cross that void is going to require more than a how-dee-do and a handshake.

I know I’m trying to write all of this down for posterity or whatever you want to call it, mostly it is trying to get things straight in my own head so I can deal with it and move on. Unfortunately, my thoughts are nearly as chaotic and jumping around as there were that night.

=====

“Where are you going?!” Cutter muttered in male exasperation.

“I already told you …”

“Yeah well like I said the men are on it, now come on. Last thing either one of us needs is to get caught in a crossfire.”

About that time some Asian guy found the spot that Cutter had pulled me to get out of all the flying bullets. He spotted us and fired nearly point blank.
 
Texican

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
About that time some Asian guy found the spot that Cutter had pulled me to get out of all the flying bullets. He spotted us and fired nearly point blank.

Was the Asian guy aiming at Kaylee and Cutter or at someone behind them???

Will have to wait for the next chapter, however many hours, days or hopefully not weeks go by.

Thanks Kathy for the chapter.

Texican.....
 
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