Harter Union: Part Seven, Chapter 1

After six months in New York, I awoke in my spacious Manhattan apartment to the smell of Hazelnut Mocha Roast emanating from the kitchen. I slowly got up and followed the smell with my eyes still closed. I came up behind a five-foot eight redhead with long hair, glasses and wearing a light blue robe. I wrapped my arms around her, grabbing my ‘I &hearts NY’ mug in my left hand and hugging her with my right. “You know, I never used to drink coffee until you moved in,” I kissed her on the neck then took a sip of the coffee. “Perfect, as usual,” I sat down at the small table in the kitchen which we affectionately called the breakfast nook.

“Did you get a good night sleep?” she asked.

“As always. You already take a shower?”

“Yeah, I used that shampoo you like. The freesia.”

“That’s what I imagine heaven smells like,” I took another sip. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“Well, the team and I are putting the finishing touches on the promos for the new Anthony Conrad mystery and then I need to drive it out to Quogue, Long Island for Mr. Conrad to approve it.”

“I’m sorry. I have to proofread the new Clark Hemenway novel. Rumor has it that this’ll be his best one.” She sat down across from me with her cup of coffee. “Oh, I also need to meet with my publisher to go over my book’s deadline.”

“You need to extend it?”

“No, I actually finished it last night,” I smiled at her.

She squealed, stood up and hugged me around the neck. “You’ve been working on that book since before I met you. I’m so proud of you!” she hugged me tighter. “When’s your appointment?”

“Three.”

“I need to be in Quogue by two so hopefully I’ll be back by eight and we can order some Chinese and you can let me read it.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I polished off my cup of coffee and stood up. I leaned down and kissed her. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”




The redhead in my kitchen was Annie Tescott, my fiancée for three months. We met through mutual friends, fell in love fast and got engaged. We moved in together immediately and have been inseparable ever since.

We both worked at Manhattan-Rooks, Annie worked in advertising and she was nothing like any girl I ever dated and I was torn between asking her out or not. She was originally from Sault Saint Marie, Michigan and had a hint of a Canadian accent that was extremely cute. My best friend, Dustin Randall was friends with Annie and her best friend Amber Selkirk and they devised a plan to get us to meet: a huge dinner date at Sardie’s, which soon became our favorite restaurant.

Working at Baker helped me be more outgoing even though most of my conversations ended up in the gutter. I never told anyone about Maggie, Heather, or Melissa because I didn’t want sympathy for them. I never replied to any of the two letters Heather wrote me because I wanted to move on with my new life.

I loved my new friends and thought they were all unique. Shani Greeley was a very intelligent and very beautiful young black woman who worked for a multi-national corporation as a Deputy CFO and she was also a columnist for New York magazine. Dustin, my best friend, worked in the same department as me and had a four-year-old son, Michael, with an ex-girlfriend who lived in Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey. He hardly got to see his son because his ex, Beth McFarland, would always come up with some excuse why Michael couldn’t visit but Dustin was too nice and timid to sic a lawyer on her. Amber was an editorial consultant for Manhattan-Rooks, had four books of poetry published and a book of short stories. She’s also a contributor to the New Yorker and helped me meet my publisher and get my book published. Kate Haskell was my favorite of everyone. She was a third-grade schoolteacher who used to work at Manhattan-Rooks. She was my boss for the first month until she became a teacher. She never called me by my name, only by ‘Kansas.’




I was pacing in front of our big bay window as Annie sat on the couch, sipping a beer, eating Oreos and reading my book. “Aren’t you done yet?” I asked with nervous impatience.

“Of course not, dear. You asked me to read a 300 page book in one evening. It’s going to take awhile.”

“Gaar! I can’t stand the suspense!” I said, aggravated.

“Then sit down, Jeff honey. Why don’t you walk to Lio’s and get us some Chinese? When you come back, I’ll be further in the book, we can have dinner and then I can continue reading.”

“Nnn…I guess. I’ll be back in a little bit,” I left the apartment and Annie alone with my book. I came out onto Mercer Street near West Houston. As I got onto Houston Street my cell phone rang--Beethoven’s ‘Fur Elise’. I looked at the screen, it was Dustin. “Hello?”

“She’s doing it again!” he exclaimed.

“Again? Where’s she moving to this time?”

“California.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Every month or so, Dustin’s ex would call him and threaten to move to another state and every time the state would get further away. “Okay, Dustin, this has got to stop. I’m gonna text you the number of this lawyer, Charles Sperber; he’s licensed in New York and New Jersey. He’s expensive but he’s one of the best family law attorneys around. He can at least get a court order to keep her in Jersey because women should not be this evil.”

“Okay, thanks Jeff. And congratulations on your book.”

“Thanks, Dustin,” he hung up and I text messaged the number to him and slipped the phone back into my pocket. I arrived at Lio’s and walked in.

“Aah, Jefferson Franklin! How are you and the wife?” asked the short Chinese man known only as Mr. Lio.

“She’s not my wife yet, Mr. Lio.”

“You need to reel her in, Jefferson Franklin. There's nothing like a good woman to stand behind a good man. Know what I mean?” Mr. Lio’s wide smile and wink made me smile as I pulled out my wallet. “What can I get you, Jefferson Franklin?”

“The usual, Mr. Lio,” I smiled.




When I arrived back home, Annie had dimmed the lights and set up candles on the dining room table and other places around the apartment. Soft classical music played on the stereo and the smell of freesia wafted through the room. Annie came from the bedroom, stood in the doorway and looked at me. “Welcome home,” she said dressed in a strapless blue gown with her hair up.

“You haven’t been reading have you?” I asked.

“I finished hours ago,” she said slowly walking toward me.

I sat the food down on the dinner table and took Annie in my arms. “You did? And you just let me dangle and worry? That’s not very nice,” I kissed her. “So what did you think about it?”

“Funny, scary, heartfelt and wonderful. I loved it. You have a bright future as an author. Congratulations,” Annie leaned up and we kissed in the glow of the candlelight.

Next:
Jeff's friends plan out his birthday and Jeff prepares for his book's publication.

Not Worth It

Huh-Huh-Huh Heh-Heh

I found out the other day that MTV's Beavis and Butt-head will be making a return to the small screen.  I am looking forward to it because I used to watch Beavis and Butt-head in its original run from 1993 to 1997.  Marvel Comics (!) produced a Beavis and Butt-head comic book series which lasted for 28 issues between 1994 and 1996.  I have all but about two issues because after about issue 15, they started getting harder to find which is probably why there are only 28 issues.

The series focused on the dimwitted duo making trouble in and around Highland, instead of showcasing music videos, B&B made fun of comic books--Spider-Man, Wolverine, even low-tier heroes such as Nova, Deadpool and Quasar (who is in this issue).  It was good-natured juvenile fun but not necessarily a comic you would want someone to see you reading.

Beavis and Butt-head #8 (Oct. 1994)
Written by Chris Marcil & Sam Johnson
Art & Letters by Rick Parker
Colors by Robert Camacho
Beavis and Butt-head created by Mike Judge
Characters copyright (C)1994 MTV Networks.  Comic book copyright (C)1994 Marvel Comics.  All rights reserved.

Stull #3

Frank York sat at his desk in the Rock Creek Township Historical Society working on a spreadsheet about area churches when his phone rang. It rang a couple more times before he answered it.

"Hello? Rock Creek Historical Society."

"I hear you also run a detective agency," the voice was male. Panicked and hurried.

"Yes..." Frank responded reluctantly.

"That child--girl--that was found butchered in Rock Creek Cemetery? I know who it is. I know who did it but I can't say. They will kill me. All I can say is look into the old Rock Creek Catholic Church. They are all murderers and they need to be stopped!" the voice stopped and a soft click was heard.

Frank hung up the phone then picked it up again and dialed. "Matt? Are you up for a trip to Rock Creek? I would call Katie but something about this made my spine crawl. Okay, I'll be over in five minutes."




"Rock Creek"
Two weeks ago, a child's body was found in Rock Creek Cemetery, one mile north of Rock Creek proper. The face had been bludgeoned, genitalia mutilated and body burned beyond recognition.

Rock Creek was a small town of about 32 people located along the curve of County Road 250. It was peaceful village now but that wasn't always so. In the early 20th Century several people were attacked by wild animals although a lot of residents thought the actual perpetrator was far more sinister.

With the outbreak of the Spanish Flu in 1918, the murders ceased and Rock Creek returned to a quiet existence. Frank and Matt drove into Rock Creek and first drove through the few streets the town had. They saw nothing out of the ordinary but parked along Main Street where ruins of Rock Creek's downtown were located.

KEEP OUT and NO TRESPASSING signs were nailed to each door and a good majority of the windows were boarded up. Those that weren't broken or boarded up were filthy with age.

"Hard to believe this town once vied for county seat with Tontzville," Frank said. "Also hard to believe it was three times the size Stull is today."

"What happened?" Matt asked.

"Some say bad city management but others say the Stull Curse affects more than just Stull," Frank posited.

"So it's more of a Stanton County curse?" Matt asked.

Frank didn't answer. He looked down Main Street at the old Catholic church at the corner of the next block. He motioned at Matt and the two of them walked down the sidewalk to the church.

The church was the second oldest church still standing in Stanton County. It was built in 1866 to replace a stone church that had grown too small. The stone church is long gone.

This church was well taken care of until the early 1980s when the dioceses out of Cincinnati decided to cut ties with the building. The current owner, Frank had looked up, was Edward Sylvester.

The paint on the church was peeling but the building still looked in decent shape and Frank wondered if anyone actually used it. Frank took a couple of pictures and walked up to the front door. He tried the handle only to find it locked. "I wonder if the owner would let us in..." Frank wondered out loud but mainly to himself. "Come on, the owner lives in town. Let's pay him a visit."




Edward Sylvester's house was a smaller house compared to the other houses in Rock Creek. It was a yellow one-story with a good sized yard with a huge oak tree towering over the house. Frank and Matt walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. A girl of about sixteen or seventeen answered.

"Yes?" she seemed suspicious.

"My name is Frank York and I'm with the Rock Creek Township Historical Society. Is Edward Sylvester in?"

"Why?" the girl abruptly asked.

"I have a few questions about the Rock Creek Catholic Church he owns."

"How did you know he owned it?" she squinted her eyes as she asked Frank.

"It's public record. I got the information from the Stanton County website. Your address I got from a phone book," Frank said.

"Well, he's not here right now. And I don't know when he'll be back," the girl nearly shouted and she began closing the door.

Frank quickly pulled out a business card and handed it to the girl. "Could you please give him my card and have him call me when he can--day or night."

The girl took the card but hesitated with her response. "Okay," she finally said and the door hurriedly closed.

Frank and Matt began walking back to the car. "She was friendly," Matt said.

"You noticed that, too," Frank said, chuckling. "She did seem a bit brash and she obviously wanted to get rid of us. Isn't today a school day?"

"I don't know. Probably. It is Thursday," Matt replied.

"Then what was she doing home?" Frank pointed his thumb behind him.




"Do you think they know?" Chauncey asked Sarah after she explained Frank and Matt's visit.

"I don't think so," Sarah said. "They seemed more interested in my father and the church. I took care of my father after I found out he had made the call. I think we can just wait until this all blows over."

Chauncey grumbled. "I hope so. It may be time to move on."

"What? Why? If anyone finds out about us, we can just kill them," Sarah said.

"It's not that simple," Chauncey began. "Your sister was a mistake but we couldn't stop Dante from doing that. He had chosen her for a sacrifice and to stop it would've meant death. And now with your father, the bodies keep piling up. The Blairs haven't...killed anyone in 80 years but Dante comes back and everybody goes crazy with their...instincts. I mean, before Dante returned I would've never thought about turning a human into...one of us," he looked at Sarah and uneasily smiled.

"Do you regret turning me?" she asked.

"Of course not," he shook his head.

They nuzzled for a second and then kissed. "So what do we do about our visitors?"

"Nothing we really can do until we know why they are here," Chauncey said.




Frank and Matt parked in the gravel lot of the old Catholic church and both of them stared at the church. "There's got to be a way in," Frank said.

"Why didn't you just ask that girl if she could get access to the church?" Matt asked.

"I don't think she would've told me. I think she was lying to us," Frank said.

"Why do you think that?"

"The way she was acting. She wanted to get rid of us. I specifically asked about the church so she could've given me any information she knew but instead chose to slam the door in our face."

"Did you bring your lock-picking thing? We could use that," Matt suggested.

"Yeah but I want that to be a last resort. Breaking and entering doesn't seem like something we should be doing at this point in the investigation. Besides..." Frank was interrupted by a knocking on his window. He lowered the window a little to speak. "Yes?"

"May I ask what you two are doing?" the man looked as if he was in his early thirties but spoke very condescendingly at Frank.

"We're looking at the church," Frank said. "Is that wrong?"

"Not really except the church is private property. Do you have permission to be here?"

"We're in a parking lot not in the church. Besides, I'm from the Rock Creek Township Historical Society and I'm doing research on the church. I tried to contact Mr. Sylvester but he wasn't home," Frank explained. "What business is it of yours?"

"Just a concerned citizen. I'm Dante Blair and I just moved back to Rock Creek. It's good to see our local youth taking pride in our past," Dante said. "I've actually talked to Mr. Sylvester about buying the church from him but for some reason he wants to keep it."

"It is a nice building. It could be used as a community center of something," Matt spoke from the passenger seat.

"That's what I told him but what are you gonna do?" Dante shrugged.

"Well, we're gonna get going back to Stull. You'll probably see us around doing our research. Feel free to stop by the Society in Stull if you're ever in town," Frank invited. "Welcome back to Rock Creek, Dante."

Frank started up the car and rolled up the window. Frank pulled away and back onto the street.

Someone else joined Dante in the parking lot. "What did he want?" the person asked.

"He's from the historical society, doing research," Dante said. "If you see him around again, snap his neck."




Back at the historical society, Frank was sifting through old newspapers. "What are you doing?" Matt asked.

"That Dante guy creeped me out but his named seemed familiar so I did some searching for the last name 'Blair' and came up with this," Frank flipped a newspaper page toward Matt and pointed at a picture. "The Blair family was very prominent in Rock Creek until the 1920s. Look at the person named Dante Blair in the picture. He looks exactly the same as the Dante we saw today."

"He does. So he probably a great-great grandson or something."

"Or it's the same person."

"That would be impossible."

"I would think that too," Frank winked. "If we didn't live in Stull."

Next:
Matt's last surviving uncle turns 40 and the team tries to protect him while also delving into Matt's family's past.

*Shakes Fist* Batiuk!!!!

Has anybody been paying attention to Crankshaft the last week or so?  No?  Don't feel bad.  I didn't really pay attention either except when I saw this...


Does that look familiar?

How about this?

90-year-old Crankshaft looks exactly like Beanball Mulligan or whatever his name is.  If it wasn't for the red coat and hat and a different nose I would've said that wasn't a 90-year-old Crankshaft at all.  I was hoping for a decent story about Crankshaft not wanting to grow old alone and hated but come today, we get this:


Batiuk!!!!!

Harter Union: Part Six, Chapters 6 & 7

Aaron, Nathan, Heather, Wendy, and Kepler came into the Union and stood in the doorway of my office. I had been trying to get some work done before my last day and I hadn’t been home since Melissa rejected my proposal and that was two days ago.

“You have to go home sometime,” Nathan said.

“Only to pack up my stuff. I have to get this work done anyway because you can’t trust Sam with anything because he…”

“Is the best replacement for you. Go home, Jefferson,” said Heather.

“I can’t Heather. If I see her face, I’ll want to kiss it and beg it to take me back,” I said putting away my papers and writing utensils. “You guys obviously didn’t come down here just to try to get me to go home so what’s up?”

“We’re gonna miss you, Bosco,” Kepler blurted out. Everyone looked at him. I stood up and walked over to the group. I hugged Heather and clapped Kepler on the back.

I fished the set of keys out of my pocket and unlocked Darrell’s office. “What are you doing, Jeff?” asked Wendy.

“Darrell has a Polaroid camera in here so I’m gonna take a picture,” I answered and opened Darrell’s top desk drawer. I pulled out a camera and we all went back out into my office. I fiddled with the timer and we all got huddled together and the picture took. “I want to thank you guys for making me belong. You are my family and I will never forget you.”

“We love you, Jefferson,” Heather hugged me again and then everyone else moved in for a group hug. In the middle of our hug, the phone rang.

“That’s probably the schmaltz police,” I said walking over to my desk. “Hello?”

“Hey, I heard you’re leaving Baldwin. Going to that Big, bad Apple,” said the voice on the other end.

“Yep, that’s right. Who is this?” I asked.

“This is Emily and I want to call you on that favor you owe me.”

I looked at the group and apologized. “I’m sorry, guys, I got to take this. I’ll see you all tomorrow though.” Everyone said their good-byes, left and I went back to talking with Emily. “That favor was for keeping quiet about Heather and me and since everybody now knows about that…”

“Favors are non-negotiable so you still owe me.”

“Okay, fine. What is it?” I laughed.

“Sleep with me.”

“What? Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Stop making excuses, Jeff. This is a one-time offer so take it or leave it. What’s your decision?”

Emily and I were silent on both our ends as I tried to decide what to do.




Chapter Seven
Sam, Aaron, Wendy, Heather, Katie, Alyson, Nathan, Kepler, Wanda and I were all sitting around a booth in the Café on my last day here. My flight left at 3:45 and it was now eleven in the morning. “I have to get going guys since I have to go through all that security crap.”

“Jeff, can I talk to you in private?” Wendy asked, sliding out of the booth and pulling my arm.

“Yeah, sure,” I slid out of the booth and Wendy and I went outside and stood on the steps. “What’s up?”

“Remember when you took me to the Old Castle Dance?” she asked.

“Of course. It was one of the best nights of my life. Why?” I smiled.

“To me that was the best night of my life and I want to thank you again for that incredible evening and what makes it even more special is that no one else knows about it,” Wendy teared up and started to open the door to the Café.

I stopped Wendy from leaving but just looked at her. I reached over and brushed some hair behind her ear. She opened the door and we went inside. “Look, I’m glad you all love me and want to stay but I need to, nay, want to leave. So as much as it pains me to do so, I must take my leave. Are you ready, Heather?” I asked.

“We understand, Jefferson. Come on, we’ll go,” Heather got up and took my hand.

“Oh, wait. Melissa wanted me to give you this to read on the plane or something,” Sam handed me a piece of paper that was folded over.

“Thank you. Look, you guys have been wonderful. I love you all,” Wendy and Kepler stood up to hug me and I shook the guys’ hands. I put my arm around Heather and led her away from the group. “Take me to KCI, Jeeves.”




Heather and I left Baldwin in my Jimmy with Heather driving. The radio was playing softly but I couldn’t make out the song. “So what does Melissa have to say?”

“I didn’t even open the note,” I unfolded the paper and read over it.

“Read it out loud, you jerk!”

“’Dear Jeff, I am sorry that I wasn’t completely honest with you. You deserve someone who can offer you what I can’t. I cannot have children and I learned that shortly after you proposed to me the first time but I didn’t tell you. I do love you but you need someone who can offer you a chance at a happy family and I cannot offer you that. I do apologize and I wish you all the luck and happiness in New York. Love, Pussycat.’”

“Melissa is barren?” Heather was stunned.

“I can’t believe she put us through all that grief and heartache because of that,” I said folding up the paper and slipping it into my pocket. “That wasn’t important to me and we would’ve had the rest of our lives to show the world how much we loved each other.”

“It was important to her and I’m glad she finally told you what was wrong,” Heather said.

“I was seriously hoping it was a brain affliction.”

“I know.”




Heather and I stood in front of the security gate and held each other. “This is it,” Heather said with her voice quavering.

“We promised no crying,” I said looking down at Heather.

“I have to admit that I want you to stay and be my boyfriend and…” she sighed and we looked into each other’s eyes. She leaned up, closed her eyes and tilted her lips toward mine. I took hold of her chin and turned her away from me. “What’s that for?”

“I want to remember you lying next to me in bed after making love with your Mona Lisa smile, not as some failed attempt at keeping me here.”

“Flight 103 from Kansas City to JFK-New York now boarding,” a woman announced over the PA system.

I gave Heather one final hug and headed down the long corridor. She leaned against the wall and watched me leave. She had tears rolling down her face as she waved in my direction. “And off you go…” she said, her voice cracking.

I never looked back.

Next:
Part Seven begins. We meet Jeff's new girlfriend and are introduced to his new friends. Jeff also finishes his first book.

#221: The Lawrence Massacre and the Kents

At the dawn of August 21, 1863, William Quantrill and between 300 and 400 riders descended on Lawrence, Kansas from Mount Oread. Over the course of four hours, they killed between 185 and 200 men and boys, burned one out of four buildings including all but two businesses and looted the banks before heading south out of town. Quantrill's raiders ended up burning the town of Brooklyn (it was never rebuilt) and their last attack was on Abraham Rothrock, a Dunkard Minister. Rothrock was shot and died from his wounds seven years later in 1870. The raiders were then intercepted by Union soldiers riding on the Leavenworth-Ft. Scott Trail near Prairie City but were able to escape. It's opined that if those Union soldiers hadn't attacked Quantrill and his men then the raiders would've went east toward Prairie City and Palmyra-Baldwin City, possibly destroying them thus completely altering the history of Douglas County.A print of the Lawrence Massacre that was published in Harper's Weekly in September 1863.These signs, erected by the students of Vinland Elementary, line East 1400 Road leaving Lawrence and mark the route Quantrill took to escape. The route jogs to the east at the Douglas-Franklin County line.Abraham and Mary Rothrock gravestone in Brumbaugh Cemetery at the curve of East 1452 Road.The only indication Brooklyn, Kansas ever existed. This sign was erected by the Baldwin City Santa Fe Trail Historical Society in the 1980s. Other similar markers were placed at Black Jack, Signal Oak, Trail Park, Willow Springs, Globe and Baden.

Smallville was first established as Superman's hometown in 1949 but it wasn't until the 1978 movie Superman that it was placed in Kansas and since then, Smallville has routinely been placed somewhere in Kansas. What's interesting is that even though Smallville was located in Kansas, details of its history were never established. Especially parts dealing with the Bleeding Kansas era between 1854 and 1861--most of this can be attributed to writer and artist interpretations of Smallville being out in western Kansas where places weren't settled until 1870s or 1880s. In the novel "It's Superman!", which is set in 1938, Smallville is located along U.S. Highway 75 in Osage County making it part of the Topeka Metropolitan Area. In the TV series, Smallville, the town is located in fictional Lowell County, three hours from Metropolis which is shown as being located where Kansas City is. The location of Metropolis at least explains why Lawrence or the University of Kansas has never been mentioned.

Lawrence was founded in 1854 by the New England Emigration Aid Company which was established by Eli Thayer to send people from Massachusetts to Kansas so Kansas could become a free-state. The Emigration Aid Company also helped establish towns such as Manhattan, Topeka and Osawatomie. Lawrence was promptly burned in 1856 by the Douglas County Sheriff, Samuel Jones, who supported the Confederates and again in 1863 by Quantrill. The raid by Quantrill was by far the worst because most boys and men were slaughtered--although Quantrill's team was searching for Senator James Lane-who escaped by hiding in a ravine. Lawrence was rebuilt and has a population estimated at around 90,000, the University of Kansas was established in 1865 and Lawrence has tended to keep the liberal ways its ancestors had even as Kansas has remained staunchly conservative.

The Kents was published between August 1997 and July 1998 to relatively little fanfare but it chronicles Jonathan Kent's ancestors settling in Kansas. The first ones, Silas and his sons Nathaniel and Jebediah, settle in Lawrence and as the Civil War begins, the brothers are torn apart like many brothers were.

The Kents #1 (Aug. 1997)
Written by John Ostrander
Penciled by Timothy Truman
Inked by Michael Bair
Colors by Carla FeenyLettered by Bill Oakley
Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster
All characters and stories are owned and trademark DC Comics. (C)1997 All Rights Reserved.