Homecoming - 1

A story in 8 episodes

Each Sunday I plan to post an episode of a fictional work. Think of them as the Sunday funnies, though like the funnies some of them might be a little scary. No worries. There is always a happy ending, even when all you ever believed about your family and home town turns out to be a lie.

Episode 1 - Home Again

June, 2022, Laurel Hill, PA

When Beth finally pulled her Jeep and U-haul into the driveway of her dad’s house she was exhausted. She rested her head on the steering wheel a minute until she saw the side porch light come on. Her dad came out so she got out of the car on wobbly legs and lean against the door. He hugged her along time. Then he took the suitcase she was trying to drag out of the back seat.

He stared at the cargo area which was full of boxes, then at the trailer and shook his head. hid dark hair was grayer than before. Her dad held the door for her and noticed the cast on her wrist.

“My girl, sit down. What happened to your hand and forehead. Did you run into something? I couldn’t believe it when you said you were coming. I haven’t seen you since Christmas.” He dropped the suitcase by the door, took her jacket and led her to the kitchen table where he had homemade bread and butter laid out with a selection of jam jars. Then he flicked on the coffee maker.

She took a sip of her bottled water. “An accident at school. I’ve decided not to teach there in the fall. The superintendent is not very supportive.” Beth rested her forearm on the table scanning the kitchen counter for a bottle of aspirin. When she saw it, she got up and helped herself to three.

“Maybe you can teach around here.” Her dad got out creamer, mugs and plates, then poured her the first cup of coffee before the rest of the pot was done. Just what she needed, more coffee.

Beth shrugged. “I’ve been saving. I might just do something else, or, I don’t know, maybe tutor. One on one a student should not be able to kill me.” She popped the aspirins in her mouth and chased them with a slug of coffee. It was late for coffee but she knew she was so tired it would not keep her awake.

Her father just stared at her. “No need to decide tonight. I’m heating stew for you. We’ll unload your car and trailer in the morning.”

Beth blinked and shook herself awake. “Dad, is everything going okay here? Dottie has been at you, hasn’t she? My sister calls me every week and I just now remembered how weird she sounds.”

“Your sister wants to be called Dorothy now. She says Dottie makes her sound unbalanced.”

“Well, she is, isn’t she? My sister is an alarmist and has been calling for months asking me to come back home. Since I was coming back anyway to visit you, I just decided to give up job and apartment to save a trip.”

Her dad hesitated again, then poured the stew into a bowl for her and handed her a slice of homemade bread. She could tell he was worried and she thought she should figure out a way to ally those fears, but she was too tired to think of one. Here she was imposing on him, when she should be helping.

“You’ve become impulsive after all these years. I’m glad to have you back. You don’t have to do anything for awhile. Eat, then to bed. That was a long drive for someone who’s injured.”

She buttered the bread one-handed, and recognized the scent of her aunt Flo’s bread, sweet and yeasty. Some things never changed. Then Beth smiled at the memory and ate the moist bread with the stew. She had stopped on the way for coffee but not food. That was unwise. Possibly everything she had done in the last five days had been unwise, but at least it was over and she had survived it.

An hour later she sank into her old twin bed and realized how comforting the sagging springs were. She stared at the flowered wallpaper and tried to calm her galloping mind. She was safe now.

The scenario of the attack which had kept replaying in her mind even as she drove, seemed to drift away from her as though it had happened to someone else. Perhaps she had been someone else these last eight years, an incompetent pretending to be a teacher. She turned her mind away from that identity and retreated to her dad’s comfort food and the security of his presence.

With her old quilt over her she felt herself drifting toward sleep the way she used to years ago. Her current anger, despair and depression sloughed of like a dried snake skin and she pretended she was a kid again.

The smell of bacon frying woke her. Then she remembered she had not taken any aspirins since last night. Maybe there would be eggs and toast too. She washed her face, dressed and took the aspirin bottle downstairs with her. Maybe she would not need them.

“I thought that would get you,” her dad said. “Maybe not so good for our cholesterol, but once on a while I need meat.”

“You always were the breakfast maker.” Beth went to get a cup of coffee.

“Most important meal of the day.”

“I hope you’re not on a statin. Latest thinking is they don’t do any good. They settle in your liver and can destroy it.”

“Glad to hear it. My doctor prescribed them and the blood pressure medication just to feel as though he was doing something since I am too damned healthy for my age. The prescriptions are all over in that drawer. Now I have to find a way to dispose of them.”

Beth laughed. “Why would you need BP meds? You’re the most laid back person I know.”

“I forgot last time I had an appointment and had a mug of coffee with breakfast. Jumped my pressure 20 points.”

“They must know coffee will do that, yet they prescribe based on one reading.”

“It’s easier just to pick up the prescriptions and store them than arguing. If you argue it just raises your blood pressure they mark you down as non-compliant.”

Beth smiled. “The revenge of the ignored doctor. I know.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened to your hand?”

“Let’s eat first.”

Twenty minutes later he reminded her of her promise.

Beth drained her mug and stared at her hand in it’s cast as if it was not hers. “I was assaulted by a student.”

“And you what, punched him?” Her dad made a punching motion with his right hand.

She chuckled. “No, we’re not allowed to hit them. I threw my hand up to protect myself.”

“Was he arrested?”

“I’m not sure. Since the principal looked to be doing nothing, I filed a complaint with the police and the superintendent. I did not stay around to find out. If they bring him to trial I’d have to testify. No point staying in a town where the schools are held hostage by bullies.”

“I know the schools are not what they used to be, but maybe that’s not true everywhere.”

“I don’t know. The administration blames teachers for not keeping control of our classrooms as though we can wave a magic wand and do that.”

“Some of those boys are probably double your weight.”

“And some are mean and feel entitled.”

“Don’t teach anymore. Their loss. You can keep house for me.”

“They can’t take my pension away and I’ve been putting extra money into a retirement account. I just have to make a living at something for the next 35 years.”

“No you don’t. Just enjoy yourself here. Listen, I know Dottie called you to come back and manage me in my dotage.”

Beth laughed. “I have no intention of managing you and there is nothing wrong with your mind.”

“Fake it for my sake. I will be so glad you are home for company for me. It does get a bit lonely even though your mother was the pits as far as company goes.”

Beth shook her head. “Why did you marry her?”

“A moment of insanity.”

“Okay. I’ll stay here but I am getting a job. I’d be bored if I didn’t.”

“Whatever makes you happy. It is so special to have you back. Now Dottie can’t make me sell the house.”

“What? Why would she do that? All you have to pay are taxes and utilities. If you moved into a rental place you would be facing uncertainty. Besides, you love this house, the big yard, the quiet neighbors.”

“I know but Dottie is like your mom, always so sure she is right. If you don’t need anything I’m going to run into town to stock up on groceries.”

“I can go with you.” Beth tried to move her legs and they resisted.

“Actually if you can drive, I’d like you to run out to Ben Wagner’s farm and buy two more dozen of Ellie’s brown eggs. Unless your hand hurts too much. I already unhooked the trailer.”

“Would love to visit the farm. I haven’t seen them in years. Terrible to only visit with people at funerals.”

“Can you imagine? Your mom never drank but she died of liver failure.”

Beth should not have mentioned funerals. “She probably took all the meds she was prescribed.”

“Yeah, she was a bit of a, what’s the word?”

“Hypochondriac?”

“That’s it.”

When she pulled into the Wagner farmyard, Beth heard the milking machine running in the barn and went there first. Ben didn’t hear her. He was talking to his brown Swiss cows in that low slightly gravelly voice that was so sexy. She leaned on the door frame and listened until he had hooked up the last cow to the two cow milker. His brown hair was long and hung over his forehead.

“Hi, Ben, I came for eggs.”

“Beth!” He turned toward the milking machine then glanced back at Beth, his blue eyes alight with embarrassment

. “Are you going to tell mom I have long conversation with the girls.”

“So did I when I worked here. Cows expect it. So do most domestic animals. They may even understand a lot. Where are the kids?”

Ben shook his head and smiled. “The kids are with their mother.”

“I guess I expected to see them still running around in their little overalls. How old are they now.”

“Seven and eight.”

“Wow, they grow fast.” She crossed the small room and looked at the cows on the milking machine. They smelled nice after being cleaned. She remembered fondly sharing that job when Ben had been hard pressed with haymaking.

“Especially when you don’t see them.”

“It has been eight years. Wish I had never left.”

“What happened to your hand. You look like you’ve been in a war.”

“Faced with not graduating, one unhappy spoiled brat grabbed me by the neck, pushed me across the room and rammed my head into the glass shield on the window vent. Fortunately I put my hand in the way.” Beth was amazed she gave Ben the graphic version of the attack rather than what she told her father.

Ben looked at the stitches at her hairline. “Is he in jail?”

“Not sure, but he is 18.”

“So that’s why you came home.”

“Cowardly of me, but he attacked me when I was alone in my home room. His word against mine. The principal would twist his spine into a pretzel before he admits he has a problem. The superintendent would do anything to pretend all is well in the school district.” She sounded so bitter even to herself.

“So they got rid of you. I’m glad you came back, but I wish you had not had to drive across the state with one hand.”

“A snap compared to trying to spoon feed learning to un-receptive minds. Eighteen months or a year of home schooling de-socialized many of them. If the truth be known a lot of them were playing games the whole time on the computers they were given, while I was struggling to post lessons online.”

“Are you really okay? I mean physical attacks are bad enough, but trauma is something you should not ignore. You’re looking at me funny.”

She smiled. “You sound like a therapist.”

“Step into my office, please.”

He ushered her to a bale of straw against on wall of the milking parlor, making her laugh. This was where they had sat when waiting for the Brown Swiss to give up their golden milk.

“I never thought of that. I just got out of there as fast as I could. I drove myself to the hospital.”

“They didn’t even call you an ambulance?”

“The principal is in denial about school violence. Besides, if I had left my car there, I might not have had a car to drive home in, Zack being the sort of guy who might take revenge on an innocent vehicle.

“Sounds damned dangerous.”

“The hospital kept me overnight. When I got home I started to pack. Then rented a trailer for all the stuff I had in storage. So glad now that I never bought a house there. I decided not to spend another year there even before they fired me.”

“God, schools are like a war zones.” He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the cement floor.

“Pretty much. The Monday after the attack they called me in. Classes were officially over, so they had all the separation papers ready as I suspected they would. They can’t touch my pension. I have records of what was contributed and it is out of their hands.”

Ben nodded. “You just cannot use it yet.”

“Right. I’ll find another career. Listen to this, they also sneaked a paper in the stack I was signing saying the student in question had completed his requirements. I dashed Incomplete in the signature block. If they give him a diploma it isn’t on my head.”

“You should not have faced all this alone.”

“Now that I think about it, I was not quite competent after the concussion. I was lucky. My landlord let me out of the last two months of the lease because he had a tenant that wanted the apartment. Nice guy. He helped me load my car.”

“That would have been difficult one-handed.”

“I cleaned up bank accounts and forwarded mail, then rented a trailer. Bad moment when my key would not fit the storage locker. But there was an attendant there who checked my ID and cut the lock. He says that happens all the time. He even loaded my stuff into the trailer for me so I tipped him heavily. A cast gets you a lot of sympathy. “

Ben blew out a tired breath. “Sympathy is not all that helpful.”

“Some of those boxes had not been opened since I dumped them in there, but I just wanted a clean sweep. The farther away I got the better I felt. I did not occur to me that there might be a side effect to the physical damage.” She stared into space, wondering if she had made any mistakes in her panic to get away.

“You decided to quit teaching to avoid another attack. I don’t mean to worry you, but one person turned your life on edge.”

“No, I’m glad you said something. I think I am just now coming out of shock mode. Maybe I should take some time on deciding on the rest of my life. But I was alone out there, and my reservations about teaching were cumulative. Maybe the evil student just tilted me into making a decision I had been avoiding.”

“You have time. We can talk it over again.”

She smiled suddenly. “Did my dad call you, tell you I might be slipping over the edge?”

Ben bit his lip. “He called to say you’d stop by for eggs. We may have talked. Are you annoyed at us?”

“I think it’s sweet of both of you to worry about me.”

“It’s just that you always seemed to be in control, to know what to do and now you don’t. We’d like to give you time to heal and decide things.”

“So right. Healing inside and out can be important. Thank you for caring and for welcoming me back.”

“I wish you’d never left. Why did you leave home?”

She stared at him. How could he have forgotten? “Well, you called and said it was over between us. I thought it would be awkward to run into you here in town.”

“Wait, I never called it off,” Ben said. Did you imagine that?”

Beth wondered if she was going insane. But the memory was clear. Her mother said Ben had called and it was over. Her mother. . .