by Jan Sumner
Chapter 5
That night he and his dad had dinner and some light chitchat about their activities that day. For some reason Jonathan was reluctant to bring up his trip with C. G. out to the old farm. There was something inside telling him to leave it alone. On the other hand he was dying to find out what happened out there. In the end he let it go…for the time being.
He couldn’t sleep that night. He tossed and turned and just couldn’t get the farm and the lingering suspense out of his mind. He decided to go over to Fran’s the next day and look around. If he could find out, without bringing it up to his dad, so much the better. With that in mind he finally dozed off. The next thing he heard was the front screen door closing as his dad headed off to work. He felt groggy and tired as he sat up in bed, then the thoughts started pouring in and he began to feel rejuvenated. He showered, and drove over to Fran’s. Only Tilley was there now, finishing up Frans’s affairs. As he came through the front door he could see her sitting at the dining room table.
“Good morning, Tilley, how are you?”
“Oh, good morning, Jonathan. Well, I’ve been better. This is fairly painful, having to sort through this stuff and then take care of it. Luckily Fran was well organized and pretty much had things in order, still…”
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“That’s sweet dear, but I think I’ve got it. You know, there will probably be something here for you.”
Jonathan was thinking about other things and was caught off guard. “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you Tilley.”
“Jonathan, come sit down.” He pulled up a chair next to her and sat down, then reached over and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry Tilley, I’m just a little distracted. Now what was it you said?”
“Yes I can see something is bothering you. What is it dear?”
“C.G. and I took a drive out to the Taylor farm yesterday…and, well, never mind it just shook me up a little bit.”
She turned away, looking out the dining room window, “What did he tell you?”
“Nothing really. He started to tell me something, then just stopped. He seemed disturbed by whatever happened out there and finally told me to ask my dad. But you know Tilley, I’m not comfortable doing that right now. I know this has something to do with my mother, and, well, talking about her seems very painful for him. I’m just not sure I want to put him through it.” He paused for a long minute; Tilley said nothing. “On the other hand, I desperately want to know. What do you think I should do?”
Again, she just sat staring out the window. Every time he brought this piece of personal history up, a veil of sorrow seemed to fall on whoever he was talking to. He sat quietly waiting for a response. Knowingly, she turned and looked him in the eye, then reaching out and taking his hand in hers said, “Jonathan, there are some things better left alone…this is one of them.”
He’d never seen her so resolute. Besides her words, the look in her eyes told him to leave it be. He would, with her.
“Tilley, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. Now, can we get back to whether I can help you?”
She seemed to soften and that warm smile she was known for, returned. “Of course, dear, and no, I don’t need any help.”
“You’re absolutely, positively, unequivocally sure?”
She laughed and said, “Yes, completely sure.”
He asked if it would be all right if he looked around, upstairs, in the cellar, wherever. She told him to go right ahead and enjoy himself. Before he got up she said, “As I told you before, there will probably be something in Fran’s will for you. As soon as I know I’ll get in touch; now go explore.”
He started upstairs in Fran’s bedroom. She had pictures of Sam on the walls and dresser, and a few of the two of them together out at the lake and the day they were married. There were pictures of Kim when she was young, and one beautiful photo of her when she was pregnant. He took it and sat down on the bed, holding it in his hands, mourning. He and Matt had never been allowed in Fran’s room, so he’d never seen these before. He finished up looking around in her room and went back downstairs, still holding the picture of his mom. He showed it to Tilley and asked, “Do you think I could keep this?”
She smiled at him and said, “Absolutely, positively, unequivocally – yes!”
He set it down on the table, nodded a warm thank you and made his way to the cellar.
It was very much like the cellar in his house, old, dark, dank and poorly lit, but he didn’t care, this was an excursion; a journey into his past. He moved things, peeked into boxes and just generally snooped around for about an hour. There was nothing of great interest, but nonetheless it was fascinating. He didn’t find anything he felt was historical, at least in the ancestral sense, so back up stairs he went. There was Tilley, still working away on Fran’s papers.
“Aunt Tilley, I think I’m going to take off, but thanks for letting me look around. It was wonderful.” She handed him the picture of his mom and said, “Here, don’t forget this. You know Jonathan, Fran loved you very much and was very proud of you. She’d be pleased you’ve taken this interest in your heritage.”
As he looked at her he just kept thinking about how no one wanted to talk about the farm, and what happened there. “Thanks, Tilley. I loved her too. Remember, if you need any help…” She laughed and waved him out the door. He drove home and immediately went out to the back yard and propped himself up against Bertha. There were many times when he was growing up he had deep and insightful conversations with his big, old, barked friend.
It was obvious, the only person who he could talk to about this aspect of his past was his dad, and he wasn’t sure if that could happen. He looked up, through what looked like a thousand branches, into a pale blue sky. How could he possibly approach this, what if his dad withdrew? They’d come so far since he’d been home. He certainly didn’t want to jeopardize this new relationship over family history. But somehow, some way, he had to know. Whatever happened at that place at that time obviously didn’t have a lasting effect on his mother; she was fine until he was born. And the Taylors, he never remembered hearing anything about them, or how they had died. He’d always assumed they had just gotten old and passed away. Maybe not. Maybe that’s what this was all about. Something bad had happened to them out there and his mom had seen it, or discovered it.
Well, great, he thought, that brings me right back to where I started – my dad. He’d be home soon, maybe this was as good a time as any.
Right on schedule he came strolling through the door. He’d stopped at the market and bought a couple of big juicy steaks to barbecue. For the first time since Jonathan could remember, he had a real look of contentment about him.
“Well son, how was your day?”
Wow, this was going to be tough. Here they were finally communicating and having fun and now what he had to ask was possibly going to betray that.
“Good dad, how about yours?”
His dad was already prepping the steaks and going into his cooking mode.
“Fine son, same old stuff. What did you do today?” He asked shouting from the kitchen.
“I went over to Fran’s and talked to Tilley.”
“Really, what about?”
“Oh, just stuff, you know, asked if I could help her with anything. Asked her if I could just look around, things like that.”
“Yeah, did you find anything worth keeping, like an old iron or some socks?” Jonathan could hear him chuckling at his own cleverness.
He thought, well I might as well crack the door open and see what happens.
“Yeah, I found a great picture of mom.”
The cooking noises in the kitchen stopped. He waited, not knowing what might happen next. Suddenly his dad appeared in the kitchen doorway, “What picture?”
“She’s pregnant…and beautiful.”
His dad stared a
t him for a minute, then came and sat down on the couch, realizing how much this probably meant to Jonathan.
“Could I see it?”
Jonathan was thrilled, maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought.
“You bet,” and he ran upstairs as fast as he could to get it. He hurried back and sat down next to his dad, handing him the photograph. He held it firmly in his hands, but his face was soft and sad. Almost tearfully he said, “She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”
Jonathan put his arm around his father’s shoulder, “She was gorgeous, dad.”
They both just sat and gazed at the picture for a while. Jonathan wondering about the past; his dad, longing for it. Finally, he turned to Jonathan and said, “Well, what do you say we have some dinner?” He placed the frame gently on the table, got up and returned to the kitchen. Jonathan sat there wondering what would happen next. Was this good? He wasn’t sure, but he was going to have to find out.
All through dinner he kept mulling over how to approach his questions. He felt like he’d opened the door, with the picture of his mom, but from there to the farm was a quantum leap. He decided the best thing was to tell his dad that he and C.G. had taken a ride out to the old Taylor place, then he'd see what happened.
After dinner, while his dad was making them some coffee, Jonathan ran up and got more pictures. He thought showing him the photos might be a good way to ease into a discussion. They sat across from each other in the living room with the pictures on the coffee table, along with his mom’s beautiful portrait. Jonathan did some arbitrary sorting and casually said, “Yesterday C.G. and I took a ride out to the old Taylor farm.”
He didn’t want to look up, for fear his dad might be staring daggers through him. First the picture of his mom, now the Taylor farm. He just kept sorting, not looking up.
“Really?” his dad said in a questioning voice.
“Well, he and I had lunch together and I was asking him about our family and he sort of mentioned it. Next thing I knew we were on our way out there.”
“He sort of mentioned it?” He asked sternly.
“Actually I asked him about mom’s grandparents, and I guess that’s how it came up. Anyway, we went out there and looked around a little bit, but it’s all run down and there’s not much to see.”
“What else did he tell you about it?”
Jonathan could see his dad was getting very serious, and if he was going to pursue this he’d better do it honestly and with respect.
“Dad, he started to tell me about something that happened out there, but stopped short and told me to ask you. Believe me, I don't want to upset you, but I hope you can understand, this is my family too, and although I’ve not shown the interest or concern I should have, I truly want to know now. This isn’t some whim or casual interest. This means a lot to me. But if you’d rather not tell me, I’ll understand. I won’t quit looking, but I certainly won’t bother you with it. I know now how deeply you loved mom and me and Matt. I guess I took that for granted, and that was my mistake, but now I’m trying to put my negligence behind me and do things right. My time here with you, I’ll cherish always and I don’t want to jeopardize it, but I have to find out dad, and I’d rather hear it from you.”
His dad appeared stunned, maybe a little overwhelmed. He’d filed this all away deep in his memory, now, here was his inquisitive son perplexed, asking questions he’d hoped he’d never have to answer. Jonathan sat back in the chair uneasy and hoping he hadn’t crossed the line.
“I’m not quite sure what to say.”
“Dad, if you don’t want to discuss it, I told you, I’ll understand. You and I have never talked like this. We’re probably long overdue. But as I said, if…”
“No, you’re right. We are long overdue. I’ve kept your mom like she was stored in my own private little memorial. I can see now that was wrong, but my intention was never to hurt anyone, especially you. It’s just that she died so young, and you and Matt never knew her. I guess I just felt like she was all mine.”
“She was and I’d never want to take your memories away from you. You’re right, I never knew her, but I’d like to know, at least a little bit.”
His dad seemed to relax and slump back on the couch. There was a slight look of relief on his face, as though he knew he’d been harboring this too long.
“Well, what would you like to know? I’m not sure I can answer all your questions, but I’ll do my best.”
“Well, let’s see, you told me how you guys met, and that you asked her to marry you when you both graduated from high school, but then what happened?”
He figured if he slowly approached the farm thing if might be easier.
“We stayed engaged about a year and when we were twenty, we got married. Nothing big, you know family and a few friends. Your mom was stunning. I guess I still couldn’t believe she wanted to marry me. Anyway, we rented a little house just off of third and I went to work at the drug store and she started as a trainee at the clinic. I’ll tell you, Jonathan, we were as happy as any couple could have been. There were days I went to work and swore my feet never touched the ground.”
“Then…” He stopped short again. Jonathan could see this wasn’t going to be painless. He suddenly felt guilty, how could he ask this of his dad. Just so he could find out about his history, he was going to drag his dad through the mud. Make him deal with things, “better left alone” to quote a close relative.
“Dad, it’s okay, you don’t have to go on. Let's just drop it.”
“No, I need to do this, you need to hear it. Secrets just fester with time, and this one has been buried long enough.” He got up and went to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. It took a little longer than normal, but when he came back he sat down and took Kim’s picture in his hand. Still looking at the photo he said, “Did you ever hear of Jack Zane?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Oh, believe me, if you had heard of him, you’d never have forgotten.”
“Why? Who was he?”
His dad told him the terrifying story of, serial killer, Jack Zane. “They weren’t sure how many people he killed, but it all ended, out there at Howard’s and Doris’ farm.”
“What?” Are you kidding?” Jonathan was flabbergasted. He sat up and looked at his dad in disbelief.
“I wish I was. He’d been on the run for days. It was in all the newspapers. The press had started calling him InZane Jack. He was crazy; like a wild animal. He’d held up a service station in Topeka, killed the attendant, and was then spotted heading south. Unfortunately, he tried to hide out at the Taylor farm. Somebody tipped off the police and they surrounded the house.”
He quickly looked away; Jonathan could see his eyes welling up.
“You know what, dad, let’s call it a night. I had no idea…”
“No, I’m fine. I want to finish this.”
He put the picture down and wiped the tears from his face. “He killed them, shot them both in the head, the son of a bitch. Then, like cowards always do, he shot himself.”
Well, that explained his great-grandparents, but what about his mom. C.G. had said she was there.
“Dad, C.G. told me mom was there, is that true?”
Now he really began to tear up, “Yes, she was there. She’d gone out to take them dinner. She and Fran use to take them dinner almost every Sunday. Fran was sick, so that day your mom went alone. She saw him…shoot them. Somehow she escaped in the commotion. The police found her out near the barn hiding between hay bales. He’d beaten her - my wife. She told me later that Grandpa Howard had saved her life. When Zane started hitting her, he jumped in and tried to save her. What he did probably cost him his life, but it allowed Kim to get away. He shot Howard and Doris, but before he could go out looking for your mom the police showed up. Thank God, or he’d have shot her dead!”
His dad slumped back on the couch, exhaust
ed. He’d sat on this nightmare since Kim's death, and now, although brutally painful, it was out. Jonathan was horrified. He had figured what had happened couldn't be good, but this…this was almost more than he could believe.
They both sat staring at each other, worn out. Almost by instinct, they silently went up to bed.
Woebegone days had returned to Independence, at least for Jonathan and his dad.
