For Generations to Come: Volume Two of the Chardin Chronicles
316
For Generations to Come: Volume Two of the Chardin Chronicles
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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781475984934 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | iUniverse, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 11/26/2013 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 316 |
| File size: | 560 KB |
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FOR GENERATIONS TO COME
By Richard Feldstein
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012 Richard FeldsteinAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-8494-1
CHAPTER 1
GENTRIFICATION
Ten-year-old boys like to play at war. It is a game of their imagination. They make sounds of guns firing with their fingers pointed at each other or use sticks as swords poised for battle. They shoot from around bushes and trees. They dive for cover behind garbage cans in the streets. In make believe, they pretend airplanes are overhead ready to drop their bombs. They act out when they and their comrades are attacking the enemy. They become victorious captors or wounded warriors.
Boys can enjoy the game because it is not real. At the end of the day, their mothers call them indoors. They all stand up, brush themselves off, and run in for dinner. They play at war because they do not appreciate what combat really means: that people actually suffer and die.
Reginald Trent Jones, III, was nearly eleven-years-old when the War in Torkos began. He had no idea where that far off land was located. It meant nothing to him. He had no understanding of why soldiers were fighting there. In fact, this may not have had any importance to him even if he did realize that a real war raged on. Reginald could not care. He was too busy worrying about his own struggle to survive.
Not the kind of daily conflict where a child is unsure if he will have a place to sleep or enough food to eat. No. This was the struggle where you lived in fear, daily fear. Fear of life itself. Fear that you could face harm at any moment. Fear that if you said the wrong words or looked the wrong way, you were tempting the enemy. A beast who might turn on you and attack you viciously.
For Reginald Trent Jones, III, the fear and the beast were not from the outside. No, they were right there living and breathing inside Reginald's very own home.
Reginald's father was an angry, brutal man. He rarely laughed. His face was set in a hard scowl. Large and muscular, with the tattoo of a fire-breathing dragon on his left forearm, Reginald II, known as Reggie, tolerated little from anyone. Many feared him as threatening and aggressive. He never thought of himself as that. He thought of himself as a manly man who did what he needed to do. He bathed regularly, kept his hair cut short and his face clean-shaven.
Reggie worked hard as a prison guard everyday. He brought home his paycheck - well, most of it anyway. The rest he would take to the bar to watch sports events and ogle young girls. He believed he drank about as much beer and liquor as the next guy. But, Reggie used alcohol to help justify terrorizing his children and beating his wife. To his way of thinking, that was what real men did.
Reggie's father, Senior, had regularly beaten him as a boy. Senior physically "corrected" Reggie's mother whenever he felt it "necessary." Reggie viewed it as his badge of honor that he learned to take his beatings "like a man." He never recognized being a bully in training. As he grew, Reggie lifted weights and drank health powders that promised large muscles. He would get into fights with other boys until he became too large and too violent to be challenged.
Reggie outwardly respected his father. Mostly, he feared him. They never talked to each other. Inwardly Reggie never loved or even liked Senior. Since Reggie believed that that was how fathers and sons related, he accepted it as normal. Eventually, Reggie grew too big for his father to risk hitting him. A cold, harsh emotional distance grew between them.
Having no other model, Reggie decided he would follow his father's example. He felt obligated if not entitled to carry on the family traditions. Even more, Reggie needed and wanted to show the old man that he could outdo him. That he did.
When Senior grew old and developed dementia, Reggie had no trouble putting him away in a nursing home until he died. Reggie never visited him and never took his children to see their grandfather. At the funeral, there was little weeping for Senior from Reggie or allowed by him from his children.
Now, every day when Reggie came home from work, he demanded his house to be spotless, his food on the table, and his children nowhere to be seen or heard. After dinner, he would leave the house. He went to the nearby bar where he would spend his money drinking and his time teasing the barmaids. He liked to pat their backsides or look down their blouses. When it came to be closing time, Reggie would stumble home. He fell asleep wherever he landed. If awake enough, he would beat his wife or demand sex. Reginald lay awake to his mother's screams or moans.
Sometimes, Reggie decided to come home and beat Reginald. On occasion, he wandered into the wrong bedroom and end up with Reginald's older sister, Sharlotte. Reginald never understood why his father beat him. No reason was ever given. Nothing was ever explained. Instead, the next day's absurd theatre of the forgotten would follow the terror and chaos of the night. By morning, as instructed by his mother, everyone acted as though nothing had happened. They were to behave as though they had heard nothing, seen nothing, remembered nothing. So life went on.
Reginald could not forget, though. He would not let himself forget. He remembered it all. It haunted his young mind. He would stay awake and listen for his father's approach. He trembled inside at the sound of his father's heavy guard boots on the pavement outside pounding up the front stairs. Their door would be thrown open as Reggie burst into the house. Reginald never knew what to expect next, only that it was rarely good.
Eventually, Reginald grew to hate his father's very existence. When one day he felt bold enough, he complained openly to his mother. She told him he must be silent. She told him that his father was a good man who worked hard and provided for his family. She told him that she loved his father no matter what he did. "Underneath, he's a good man who loves his wife and his children."
She told Reginald that he should be grateful to have such a strong man for a father. She told him that she loved Reggie for he was the best man she had ever had. Most of all though, she told Reginald that whatever went on in their house was never to be told to anyone else - ever.
When Reginald and his two sisters were younger and smaller, Reggie would discipline his children now and then with quick beatings. As they grew older, the beatings became more and more violent, especially toward Reginald. Reggie began treating their mother more shamefully and with less respect as the years passed. Nevertheless, she never complained. She always defended him.
When Reggie would hit his wife, Sharlotte tried to protect her mother. She was no match for her father's strength or self-righteousness. At night, he would punish his daughter by forcing himself upon her to "teach her a lesson if she thought she was going to be the woman of the house." This was a lesson she was sworn by him to keep secret.
He told Sharlotte that if she ever told anybody anything he would just deny it. "Who would believe ya?" He would tell her. "It would just end up hurtin' yer mother." He also threatened that if she did tell anyone, he would then have to start "teaching" her younger sister, Sherry, "the lessons."
Reginald's mother pampered Sherry. Everyone treated Sherry as the special baby of the family. So, Sharlotte chose to keep her silence and protect her mother and her sister. She never told anyone what went on between them. Instead, Sharlotte quietly suffered her father's indignities upon her.
By the time he turned twelve Reginald was growing quickly. His baby sister, Sherry, had started calling him Ginny. The name stuck. He became known among his friends as Gin Trent-Jones, then simply as Gin Trent. For the next two years, Gin ran the streets with the other boys, getting into his fair share of fights. It seemed that there were many boys on the streets whose fathers were off at war.
Reggie never went to the War in Torkos. Exempted as a prison guard, he also claimed he had a bad back that kept him from passing the physical exam. The other boys teased Gin about his father, as boys will do. In response, as a boy will do to protect the reputation of himself and his family, Gin began making up a story that Reggie was about to join up. His father would become a soldier as soon as some paperwork was completed. That seemed to work well enough with the boys on the streets. Not so well with Reggie.
One night, Reggie came home from work in a rage. He burst into Gin's room. His face was red while the veins in his neck were engorged and pounding. Reggie knocked over a floor lamp as he stormed over to where Gin had been sitting at the desk in his room, studying for school. With his prison guard work boot, he kicked the side of Gin's chair. Gin and the chair went flying across the room. He hit the wall before sliding down to the floor.
"Who the fuck do you think ya are, boy? Huh? I'm gonna kill ya right here and now. I'm gonna beat yer ass so bad ..."
Reggie stumbled across the fallen chair as his outstretched arms reached for Gin's throat. Rightly fearing for his life, Gin jumped up as quickly as he could. He ran across his bed and out the door of his room. His father, incensed even more by the apparent defiance of his son to stay and allow himself to be beaten "like a man," came after him. When he reached the kitchen, Gin found his mother standing at the sink. She turned to him, seeing a look of fear and a cry for help in her son's face that she had never seen before. When Reggie came into the kitchen, she motioned for Gin to stand behind her. For the first time in his life, Gin's mother put herself between her husband and her son.
"Reginald Jones," she demanded, "you stop this right now." She reached over and picked up a large butcher's knife.
"What? Ye're fixin' to stab me and save him from the beatin' he deserves," his voice raged. "Is that it? Ya think ye're brave enough for that, do ya woman?"
"Reginald Jones, I will not have you beat this boy in the state you're in." Her hand quivered. "If I have to stab you to stop you, well, I'll feel badly about that. I'll help stop the bleeding afterward. Make no mistake that I will cut you."
"Do ya know what this snot nose, lying, backstabbing, ungrateful, son of yers is telling people? Huh, do ya?" He challenged her. "He's been telling 'em I'm going off to join the army. Now, they think I'm a coward 'cause I'm not a goin'."
"He's a boy, Reggie, he's just a fourteen-year-old boy. He doesn't know what he's saying. He surely doesn't know what he's meaning."
"Oh, he don't? Ya don't think so, huh? Well, he knows all right. I was fourteen once myself. I know he knows. Don't ya, boy?" He shook his fist at Gin. "Ya thought you could make yer old man look like an asshole so ya could tell yer little friends out there whatever ya wanted and make ya look like a big shot, didn't ya?" He spit out as he shouted. "Ya thought ya could make me look like a worthless shit-coward or make me join the army so I'd be sent off to that stupid, damn war over there in Torkos where I'd get my ass shot off, huh? So's ya could take over the house, didn't ya?"
Gin stayed put behind his mother. He was not about to move. He kept his head down. His eyes averted from meeting his father's glare.
"Do ya think I'm a coward, boy? Well, do ya?" Reggie yelled across the room. He took one step forward while heeding his wife's threat. "Go ahead, tell me to my face that I'm a coward so's I'll go right through that knife yer momma has waiting there for me. I'll still stay alive long enough to kill ya with my bare hands."
"No, sir. I'm sorry. I, I didn't mean anything." Gin managed to blurt this out, hoping it might calm down his father. Instead, it made him even more enraged.
"That's the best ya can do? 'I'm sorry,'" he mimicked. "What a weak, piss-ass answer. Ya should have taken yer beating like a man, boy. Maybe, ye're no son of mine anyway."
Gin's mom switched the knife from her right hand to her left hand. She used her right hand to slap her husband hard across the face. She returned the knife to her right hand as she declared, "Don't you ever accuse me of having a child by another man, Reginald Jones. Now, you take yourself and your anger out of my kitchen. You go wash up for dinner until you can come back with a civil tone."
Reggie rubbed his face, spit on the floor, then turned and walked out of the room.
"Now you, Gin, you go clean up your room and tell your sisters it's time for dinner," she instructed as she pushed him out of the kitchen.
Gin's mother turned back to the sink as she continued to prepare dinner. Tears ran down her face. Her legs felt wobbly. She shook her head and pushed back her hair. "Everything's all right," she whispered to herself. "Everything's all right."
Gin carefully walked back toward his room. He knew he had to pass the bathroom where his father was washing his hands. Suddenly, his father was blocking the hallway. Reggie pulled a knife out of his boot. Quietly, he put it up to his son's throat as he pushed Gin with his large forearm up against the wall.
"I never really thought ya was my son, boy. My own flesh and blood. I've always suspected yer mother screwed around on me. Ya was her little bastard. Now, whether ye're mine or not, ye're not mine anymore, understood?"
Gin could smell his father's sweaty body odor and fetid, drunken breath. "I should kill ya, boy," he whispered in Gin's ear. "Ya deserve that for talkin' about me behind my back. I see the way ya look at yer sister. Ya want her for yerself, don't ya? Maybe the two of ya already been doing it, huh? Ye're a dangerous little bastard. I know it. I can feel it in my bones." He pushed harder. "Ya want to find a way to put me away, to get rid of me. If I do kill ya now, your mother will never forgive me." He paused. "I might end up with those animals I keep caged up at the prison. So, I'm letting ya off with a warning this time." He pulled back. "Ya remember, I've got my eyes on ya."
Reggie's lip snarled. One eyebrow raised up as he released Gin and walked away. Gin never said a word. He merely went on to tell his sisters to come to dinner. Later, when he thought of the encounter, Gin could never remember if he had been acting bravely or felt too scared to talk. What he did remember was he made a decision. A decision he would someday find a way to carry out.
* * *
Before creating a plan, Gin made one last effort to ally himself with his mother. After seeing her protect him, Gin became emboldened several months later to talk to her one afternoon.
"Mom, Dad scares me. He drinks too much. He loses his temper too easy."
She smiled and gave Gin a playful hug as she laughed. "Oh, Ginny, he's just your dad. You know he loves you. He loves me and the girls, too. I love him." She patted his head. "He really is a good man. He just works so hard at the prison. He doesn't mean it when he gets upset. It's just the alcohol talking. You must forgive him as I do, as the Good Book says we must."
"Mom, how can I? How can good men do bad things?"
"Well, they just don't always realize that they're doing something bad, that's all. They don't mean to."
"Can they say bad things?" Gin asked innocently.
"Certainly, they can."
"Dad said he wasn't my father. That you had me with another man."
"Well, that is hurtful, Gin. Your father was probably just upset when he said that. I can forgive him. I'm sure, he didn't mean it."
"What about at night when he comes home. He ... well, you know, he ..."
"Now, Gin, we are not going to talk about those things." She stopped him. "Everyone would just be upset for no reason. There's really nothing to talk about. You go off and do your homework or go outside and play with the other boys or do something and get busy. Dinner will be ready soon enough. Your father will be home. You know how he gets upset if his dinner isn't ready."
Gin walked back to his room dejectedly with his head down and his shoulders slumped. As he passed Sharlotte's room, he noticed her door slightly ajar. He could hear soft crying from inside like someone had their face muffled into a pillow. He knocked twice.
"Go away," was the first reply.
"Hey, Shar, it's me, Gin." He whispered while he stood at the doorway and carefully looked around. "I'm alone. Let me in."
After a brief pause, his sister whispered back. "Come in but shut the door."
Gin and Sharlotte were only fifteen months apart in age. They had grown up as brother and sister and best friends too. Gin had always been Sharlotte's closest confidante. She was too afraid to talk to any of her girlfriends. She felt too embarrassed to let anyone else know what went on in her life. Sharlotte could not trust that what she said to others would never get back to her parents. She and Gin had learned to rely on support from each other to survive their parent's secretive, abusive household. Over the years, Sharlotte had revealed many of her deepest thoughts and feelings to her older brother. Those would be nothing compared with what she would tell him today.
Gin sat down on the bed next to her. "Why are you crying?" he asked.
"Reg, you're my brother. I love you." She stopped. "I don't think I can tell you this."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from FOR GENERATIONS TO COME by Richard Feldstein. Copyright © 2012 Richard Feldstein. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Prologue:, 3,
Chapter 1 Gentrification, 7,
Chapter 2 A Most Interesting Assignment, 25,
Chapter 3 Video Replay, 37,
Chapter 4 Dunby's Last Promise, 41,
Chapter 5 A Race To The Finish, 47,
Chapter 6 Back To The Beginning, 57,
Chapter 7 An Unexpected Ally, 71,
Chapter 8 The Campsite, 79,
Chapter 9 Reunion, 89,
Chapter 10 The Treasurer, 99,
Chapter 11 Just Another Accident, 119,
Chapter 12 Morthuza And The Gent, 129,
Chapter 13 Lilly At The Lab, 139,
Chapter 14 An Unlikely Visitor, 149,
Chapter 15 From Manoosh To Meri, 159,
Chapter 16 Meri's Nephews, 173,
Chapter 17 Assignments, 187,
Chapter 18 A Priestly Visit, 199,
Chapter 19 Unholy Alliances, 211,
Chapter 20 Reunited, 233,
Chapter 21 For Generations To Come, 243,
Chapter 22 Visions For The Future, 263,
Chapter 23 The City Of The Elders, 269,
Chapter 24 The Battle At The Lab, 293,
Chapter 25 Final Revelations, 299,
Epilogue:, 307,