The Factory Page 4

  “Because I don’t want people going through my property, that’s why. I have lots of secret stuff here that I don’t want nobody to know about.”

  Gary said,

  “Boy, you really sounded like an old man. I really thought you were.”

  She accepted the compliment and with a beam of pride said,

  “I know, right. I practice it a lot.”

  After a curious look at Gary, she added,

  “I’ve never seen you around here before. The old lady in the house over there lives by herself. Why did you lie to me?”

  Gary explained who he was and why he was forced to come to Twin Rivers and live with his grandmother. On hearing that his mother died, the icy shield she was trying to project started to melt. In an effort to shed her pretended persona, she offered an olive branch.

  “My name is Sam.”

  He did not respond in kind, instead snickered and said,

  “That’s a boy’s name.”

  As if insulted, she snapped,

  “So what. It’s also short for a girl’s name.”

  Truly not knowing, he asked,

  “What’s it short for?”

  Never mind what it’s short for.”

  Gary’s inquisitiveness sparked and he bravely asked,

  “What secret stuff do you have here?”

  With her light leading the way it was a struggle to follow her through a tight path of ferns and low branches. Eventually they stood at the base of an extremely large tree. It was the thickest tree trunk he had ever seen. On the other side of the tree were boards nailed into the bark acting as a ladder. He looked up but the treehouse was hidden by thick and clustered branches.

  For a boy raised in the city, it was a precarious climb up the makeshift ladder but eventually he made it into the treehouse. Once through the trap door in the floor, Gary swept his light through the room. She cautioned,

  “Don’t shine the beam through the window, people from far away will see it.”

  She pulled the shade down and with a match lit an old kerosene lamp. She seemed proud to announce,

  “This is my secret hideout.”

  Although rustic and some boards were in danger of dislodging from the decrepit wall, it was safe enough. An old sofa against one wall faced a wooden table with two mismatched chairs. If this was her secret hideout, he wondered why she needed two chairs. Although he did not understand what he was looking at, on the table was a deck of tarot cards and a crystal ball that he thought was just a giant glass marble. The ceiling was flat and he saw the large crossbeams supporting the roof. On the floor was a lumpy mattress and beside it was a baseball bat. He asked,

  “Do you play baseball?”

  “No”, she said, “it’s just for protection.”

  Pointing to the mattress she explained,

  “I often sleep here too.”

  Gary sat in the mouldy sofa and asked,

  “Why do you need a secret place? Is there something wrong with where you live?”

  Instead of responding to an uncomfortable question that she did not want to answer, she sat at the table facing him and asked,

  “How did your mother die?”

  The sudden question pained him. With sadness he bravely said,

  “She was walking home from work to make my supper when a car ran up the sidewalk and hit her really hard.”

  Sam muttered,

  “That’s a terrible way to die.”

  Then,

  “Why are you living with your grandmother? Why not your dad?”

  While pretending to look around the ramshackle room he sadly admitted,

  “My mom said that I don’t have a dad.”

  “Everybody has a dad. Is he dead too?”

  Shaking his head, he admitted,

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him.”

  In a desperate attempt to change the painful interrogation he snapped a quick question,

  “Do you live with your mom and dad?”

  A sudden forlorn look engulfed her and Gary understood that if she was going to answer, it would be sad. He was right. She pointed to a picture hanging on the fall wall and said,

  “That’s my mom and dad when we were all happy.”

  “Aren’t you happy now?”

  “No. Since the copper mine shut down he is home all the time and just drinks. My mom yells at him a lot.”

  They talked some more and without realizing it, they were bonding and becoming friends. With a promise not to reveal the secret tree house, Gary climbed down and made his way through the woods and back home. He stole back into the house the same way he snuck out, through the basement window.

  Once back up in the kitchen he snuck down the hall, past his grandmother’s closed bedroom door and to his own room. Once there, he went to the window and for a few minutes stared into the field hoping to see evidence of what just happened was in fact true. To confirm, he aimed his flashlight at the tallest tree and flashed three quick bursts in that direction. Almost instantly, three dim beams returned.

  Chapter 8

  And so it went for the next week. Instead of going for a bike ride, Gary defied the warning signs and ventured onto the forbidden property. Because he was not allowed up there without Sam, he had to make sure she was there. There was a secret string somewhere on the truck of the tree attached to a small bell in the treehouse to act as a warning signal that somebody uninvited was sneaking up.

  One day, Sam was sitting at the table in the tree house gazing hard into her crystal ball. Gary was on the sofa. He had taken a broken clock from his grandmother’s basement and brought it to the tree house. His conundrum was a basic one. It came apart easily but now would not fit back together. Despite the impossibility, he spent many hours struggling with the mystery. Giving up was not an option. Instead it was simply a puzzle to be solved. Sam, frustrated that she could not see anything in the crystal ball turned to him and asked,

  “Do you know what a crow’s nest is?”

  No, he didn’t but nodded anyway. She saw the lie but let it go. She then got up and said,

  “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  The flat roof of the treehouse was slightly slanted downward allowing rainwater to run off. Inside, at the far corner there was barely enough headroom to stand up. As she walked into that low corner, Gary saw a board nailed to the wall and wondered about its function. Sam reached high and pushed a trap door out of the way. Grabbing the edge of the roof, she then used the board on the wall as a step to help her climb up and onto the roof. As she had done this many times it was an easy accomplishment but it was not the case for Gary. After a third try he finally managed the physical coordination needed to stand next to her on the roof.

  Once on top of the treehouse and hanging onto thick tree branches, she took the first step and said,

  “Wait here until I’m across the roof. It might not support both of us.”

  Not liking what he assumed was a great risk, one she casually accepted, he made the mistake of looking down. Although hidden by thick branches and foliage, through a few gaps he saw enough ground far below to manufacture fear. When safely reaching the other end, she turned and cheerfully beckoned him forward. It was very difficult to fake bravery but determination to not show fear eventually got him across the precarious roof beam.

  Climbing higher they reached the top of the tree where if going higher the branches were too thin and sparse to support them. Somewhere in the higher branches was an owl clearly asking ‘who’ was in his tree? When not answering, the owl seemed to not give a ‘hoot’ and stayed on his branch to keep an eye on the two intruders. When Gary was precariously balanced on a limb beside her, she pointed to the horizon and proudly announced,

  “Just look at the view.”

  Looking over the tops of other trees, he saw his house in the distance.”

  Sam continued,

  “Past your house you can see all of Twin Rivers from here.”

  As he looked out into the
landscape they were so high that the entire town was visible. He saw the Great Swanson River flowing out of the forest and the Copper River coming from the mountains.

  About half way up the mountain he saw the remnants of the Factory, the old copper mine. Looking at it, he said,

  “My grandma said that the copper ran out and it was shut down.”

  Tersely, Sam rebutted,

  “That’s not true. My dad worked in the mine and said that there was lots of copper still there. He said that the Federal Government for no good reason suddenly swooped in and told everybody to go home. He tried to tell everybody that it was still a productive mine but was told to be quiet or else.”

  “How come?”

  “He thinks that some secret department of the government is doing strange stuff up there. Lots of times at night I can see lights inside the factory building. It’s real spooky inside there too.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve been in there. I know a secret way to get past the fence and guards.”

  Not thinking something like that would ever be important, he looked down and wondered how he was going to get back to the safety of the tree house without falling to his death.

  Chapter 9

  The next day and in the middle of the afternoon, Gary prepared to lie to his grandmother about going on another adventurous bike ride when there was a knock at the front door. Curious, he stepped in the hall and peeked around the corner to see who it was. When Ruth opened the door, Gary saw a handsome man standing there politely smiling at her. He was maybe six feet tall, had long brown hair and looked strong. He was wearing jeans, a white shirt and something Gary had never seen before, cowboy boots.

  Grandmother’s back was to Gary so he could not see the expression on her face although he certainly heard her harsh demand,

  “You have no business here. Get away from my house.”

  He was equally demanding,

  “You get out of the way old woman. I’m here to see my boy.”

  Although he made a move to push past her, she refused to move and rebutted,

  “You gave up that right when he was born.”

  Taking advantage of his size and strength, with a sweeping arm she was rudely pushed aside. He snarled,

  “Shut up you old hag.”

  At the words, ‘I’ve come to see my boy’ Gary stood frozen to the spot, stunned. Father? All his life he was told that he had no father. He was so taken aback it did not register on him that Grandma Ruth was rudely pushed aside and almost fell over. Not knowing if he should run to him or stay, Gary watched the man quickly approach and flash a handsome smile. While reaching for a handshake the man said,

  “You must be Gary.”

  Stunned speechless, Gary nodded and as taught by his mother, politely accepted the handshake. The man then said,

  “My name is Rick and I’m your dad.”

  Ruth had recovered enough from her rude jolt to approach Rick, grab his arm and in the same brave voice insisted,

  “You are not wanted here. Get out of my house.”

  With a mere flick of his arm she was pushed away and hit the kitchen door hard. Rick snapped,

  “Get away from me or you’ll get what your daughter got.”

  He then looked down at Gary, smiled and said,

  “Why don’t we go to your room where we can get acquainted like a father and son should?”

  Leading the way down the hall, Gary inquisitively asked,

  “What did my mother get that you were going to give Grandma?”

  It was a cryptic reply, certainly one he did not understand. Casually, as if there was no malice attached, Rick replied

  “A lesson in obeying her husband.”

  Sitting on his bed, Gary watched his dad snoop around the room as if looking for something. Gary asked,

  “Are you really my dad?”

  He turned to face him and replied,

  “You bet I am kid. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  There was no way a young mind could absorb what had just happened. All his life he was resigned to what his mother had told him. A thousand times he explained to his teachers back at Lexington City that he had no father. And now this! Gary sat stunned and didn’t know what to say or do.

  Where there should have been blissful moments of hugs and tears, there was an awkward coldness about Rick. It was as if he didn’t know what to say or do either. After a difficult staring contest, he turned to the desk, looked at Gary’s treasure of wires, transistors, cathodes and capacitors. While showing his inexperience of fatherhood, Rick jostled some of the fragile construction with a casual hand and sneered,

  “What’s all this junk?”

  Afraid to get up and protect his delicate and cherished contraption, Gary remained seated and weakly explained what it was and how he liked to simply connect electronics just to see what happened.

  As if surprised, Rick turned back to Gary and said,

  “Hell kid, I do odd jobs for the Factory up on Copper Mountain and can get you tons of that stuff from there.”

  Although Gary really wanted ‘tons of that stuff’ he was forced to say,

  “Grandma said that I have enough junk in the room. She said there is no more room on the desk and doesn’t want any more in here.”

  Seeing his chance to win Gary over, Rick sneered and said,

  “Jezz kid, if you want something bad enough, you godda think of ways to get around authority. The old hag has a bad heart and weak legs. She can’t do stairs.”

  This was not new to Gary so he simply nodded and Rick continued to undermine Ruth’s authority.

  “The attic. Use the attic for crap like that. She can’t get up the stairs. The room up there is all yours for the taking.”

  Gary knew that what his new found dad had suggested was bad. However, he was torn between wanting ‘tons of that stuff’ and therefore saw no harm in disobeying his grandmother. If she couldn’t get up there to see what he was doing anyway, what was the harm? Seeing that Gary was coming around to his suggestion, Rick continued,

  “Look kid, I godda go but meet me at ten o’clock tomorrow morning right out front and I’ll get you all of this stuff you want.”

  Forgetting how he had mistreated his grandmother, suddenly Gary was captivated by a stranger claiming to be his father. Gary nodded and produced a happy smile.

  Just then, Ruth stormed into the bedroom and pointed a shotgun in Rick’s face. There was bravery and determination behind her demand.

  “Get away from that boy and out of my house.”

  Gary was stunned to silence. Rick laughed, quickly swiped the barrel out of his face and said,

  “Don’t die of a heart attack yet old lady. I was going to leave anyway.”

  Turning to Gary, he said,

  “Don’t forget about our meeting.”

  As Rick left the room and walked down the hall, Ruth had the barrel pointed at his back. At the front door she sneered,

  “If you ever come back here again I’ll kill you. I should have killed you years ago.”

  She stayed on the porch and watched as he walked to his pickup truck and drove away.

  Putting the shotgun away, she returned to see Gary still frozen to the bed. He watched as she came in and sat beside him. She put one arm around him and hugged him tight. He was surprised by the sudden show of affection. The demand she had shown when confronting Rick stayed in her tone.

  “You stay away from that man. You hear me? Stay away from him.”

  His question was weak and soft.

  “Is he really my dad?”

  Still holding tight to her grandson, she admitted,

  “Yes but a good father never does things like that to his wife.”

  “What did he do?”

  Instead of replying to a question that was painful and she did not want dredged up, she stood and while leaving the room said,

  “He is no good and never will be. Don’t ever have anything to do with him.”
>
  Gary sat in a world of confusion. The sudden joy of knowing that he really had a father swirled against the hatred his grandmother had for him. It was not a good way for a young boy to learn that he really had a father.

  Chapter 10

  That night, knowing he was only allowed on the main floor of the house, not in the basement or the attic, Gary waited for Ruth to fall asleep before getting brave. With flashlight in hand he snuck to the bottom of the narrow steps at the end of the hall and careful not to make a sound, tip-toed up the stairs to the attic.

  At the top, a short and narrow hallway led to the attic door. A careful hand turned the knob and the door slowly creaked open. Musty air and a stink of old things pushed into his face. It was too dark to see anything from the doorway and a sweep of the flashlight could not locate a light switch. He wondered if daytime would not have been a better time for disobedience.

  Staying at the door, he swept the flashlight through the attic. Despite the steep angle of the rafters supporting the roof it was a huge place. He saw stacks of old and by now yellow newspapers leaning against the wall at his side. With his flashlight affording a frugal beam, he read a strange hand written passage at the base of the molded papers. ‘As you shall stay in my heart, your papers shall stay in the attic forever.’ He thought it might be a strange message from his grandmother to her long dead husband, a man he had never met. As far as he could reason, judging by the dust and moldy smell, nobody had been near the creepy memorial since his death many years ago.