Chapter 1: The Beginning

How do you do this? Today was my eighteenth birthday, the age of majority. I was a kid, a minor, yesterday and no one would listen to me. They still don't listen to me today, but I was getting it across that I wasn't happy.

Mom and Dad were buried last week, after a hurried autopsy that declared their deaths accidental. I don't think so. The autopsy said they had both been drinking and were under the influence of not only booze, but some kind of drug that would make them a little crazy.

That was impossible because Dad had always been a teetotaler, although Mom liked a nip of wine and some Kentucky hooch when her family brought some down. That's probably how I had two younger brothers and three younger sisters. I know, I know, six kids are probably too many, but we were country people and a lot of the families around had ten, eleven, twelve, and one family had fifteen kids. The mother of that bunch was still 'Hot' in most of the neighborhood locals' minds. With a wife like that, I would have been breeding her every chance I had too. This was a very good Catholic neighborhood. My family wasn't Catholic, but we fit right in.

I was head of the family now since I was eighteen, and tried to figure out how to make ends meet. There was some money in the bank, but not that much.

I explained to all my siblings that we probably needed some more knowledgeable adult opinions. They all looked to me for direction. I couldn't tell them everything I felt, but I could tell them that we would all be taken care of. One of Dad's brothers showed up for the funeral and came out to the farm to talk to me. We talked for a while, until he finally said, "You have five brothers and sisters who could be homeless if you can't keep the farm up. My wife, Kate, and I would be willing to take them in if you sign the farm over to me."

I wanted to jump at the offer, but I also knew the farm had a value. I told my uncle, "Let me keep that in mind while I try to figure out where we are. The savings and loan told me that we were six months ahead in payments on the last farmer's crop loan, so we have a few months to figure out where we stand. I think we have enough to get through this winter and into spring planting. I don't have the figures from the grain elevator for our share of what we harvested this year yet. We had probably the best wheat crop that we've had in years and this year's corn is going to be way above average."

Uncle Seth said, "You'll never make it past spring planting with the cash your dad had on hand. You'll be selling the equipment at auction and the farm for a tax sale within a year. I'll make sure the kids are taken care of and you can find a job to make your life better."

Something still didn't sit right with me, so I went to town and walked into John Smith's office, the local lawyer's, the next day. It took me a couple hours to tell him the whole story."

The man looked at me and asked, "Can you handle taking care of the farm and the kids? It's pretty generous of your uncle to volunteer to take care of the kids."

"Yes Sir, it is, but he would be getting the farm and everything there and I would be homeless and broke. Where do I live? Do I find a highway overpass to live under? I would still have a home if I take responsibility for my brothers and sisters, and we might or should be able to make it. We all know what a farm is and we would work the land to give us the maximum income."

Mr. Smith told me, "I like your grit, but are you really willing to put up with what this will take? You'll have to be making loan payments soon, and you have to keep up with utilities and fuel for the winter."

I told the attorney, "I have the money to make the mortgage payments, fill up the big LP tank, and I think we have enough food stored to get through the winter. Dad taught me about what it costs for the farm, and showed me how much the utilities cost and how he budgeted for them. We will need clothes, and I'll figure out how to do that, but I think we're good for a while. I still want to find out why my dad had liquor in his system. He didn't drink, ever. Mom would have some of her home stuff, but never had anything out of the house. You need to help me find the answer to that."

John Smith lowered his voice and told me, "You have to sit back sometimes, and wait for the snakes to come from beneath their rocks. You could end up like your folks if you get in the way of someone who wants what you have and then wh ere would your brothers and sisters be?"

I sat there thinking about this, and he said, "I have a friend in the State Department of Law Enforcement, and I'll ask him to investigate your folks' death. This won't help you with your bills and spring planting, but it's possible that you will get some satisfaction if someone messed with your folks."

I went to the cemetery from the attorney's office, and stood in front of my folks' tombstone. I asked Dad, "How could this happen, Dad? We talked about this and we were on the way to making a good profit this year and next if we did exactly as we planned. You had everything in its place, and even planned for emergencies. I'll do all that, Dad, but I don't know how to take care of the kids. They're growing and need clothes for school. Do you think I have enough to do that kind of shopping?"

I stood there in front of my father's and mother's grave, and wished I could talk to the dead. I walked back to the pickup and climbed in. I was driving back toward town when I began to pass the Salvation Army store. I had an idea and turned in there. I looked through their clothes and noted they had decent clothes the kids could wear through the winter. There were heavy coats and even some shoes. I wonder.

I gathered the three girls back at home, and asked them, "You know that our budget is meager and we have to figure out how to make what we have last. The Savings and Loan isn't going to give kids money for spring seed, fertilizer, and fuel, but we might have enough to make it work. I stopped at the Salvation Army store to see what kind of clothes they had and thought we might be able to keep clothes on our backs if we were to buy from them. Would you be willing to look?"

Josey, Monique, and June all came to hug me, and Josey said, "I think we would be willing to wear someone else's hand-me-downs if we can stay together. The boys won't care as long as they have clothes. Mom taught us girls how to take care of you guys, and even told us that something could happen to her and Dad, so we needed to pay attention and learn."

I went to bed every night with tears in my eyes, thinking of how the kids felt about losing our parents.

It was a week later when I was up late for no particular reason. The kids were in bed regretting that summer was almost over and school would be starting. We still had corn to pick, but we were already promised decent money for shelled corn. We would grind the cobs and stalks and spread them over the fields as compost for next year. I had gone outside to get some fresh air as there wasn't any stirring in the house.

I thought I heard something like tires on gravel, and the guineas then began making noise. It was almost one o'clock in the morning, so this was really strange. I had goose bumps down my back and ran inside, grabbed the Savage lever action, made sure it was full of rounds, and went back outside. I saw the shape of a crew cab pickup slowly coming up the lane. I went from the porch to the side of the pump house and watched what the truck was doing. It turned around and headed back toward where it had come from and stopped. A guy got out of the front passenger side and looked all around. It looked like he had something in his hand but I couldn't tell what it was. Then two men got out of the rear doors of the crew cab holding rifles. Now I was concerned.

I heard one of the men say fairly loud, "We need to take care of Kenny before we do anything else. He's our only threat."

Son-of-a-bitch, who were these guys? I didn't recognize them, but then I wasn't that active within what was going on in town.

One of the other men asked, "Where is his room? Do we kill any of the kids who wake up while we're taking care of Kenny?"

"They need to go if they see you."

That made my mind up, so I aimed at a guy who was moving toward the house and, 'Bang', he fell. All the others were moving back toward the truck, so I aimed at the front tire that was nearest to me and fired. 'Bang, the tire deflated and the guys were still trying to climb into the truck. I fired at the guy who climbed into the driver's seat, 'Bang' the guy slumped forward. The guy who was behind the driver opened the rear door, and then got out, opened the front door and pulled the driver from the driver's seat. 'Bang', he slumped forward too when he climbed in. With three down there was still at least one remaining and I didn't remember where he went.

My next younger brother, Chet, said from behind me, "I have your back. How many more are there?"

I told him, "I think only one." Knowing what his next question would be, I told him, "I don't know them, but they wanted to get into the house to kill me and would have killed any of you kids who woke up. That's why I shot the first one when he was going for the house."

Chet said, "I called the Sheriff's office and the State Police. They are both sending units."

"Let's stay right here where we can see all around us. I doubt someone will try to get to the truck again. We need to make sure we aren't illuminated or silhouetted."

We were crouched against the side of the pump house when we heard movement on the other side of the building. My heart rate went up higher than it should have, but we both crouched there with my rifle and Chet's shotgun pointing toward the edge of the building.

We waited but whoever was there didn't want to make himself known. We watched the horizon and could see the police car's flashing lights and wondered what the guy would do. He walked out into the middle of the gravel parking area and threw his rifle down. He kneeled with his hands behind his head. I cautioned my brother, "Don't trust the guy. He could have another gun somewhere and be waiting for us to show ourselves. The cops will be here in a minute."

A police car came roaring up the lane road and slid to a stop with his headlights on the man on his knees. A shot rang out as soon as the Sheriff's Deputy got out of the car, and the Deputy pitched backward. I noted where the shot came from, realizing there had been five not four, and then saw the guy who had been kneeling reach for his rifle. I aimed and fired, 'Bang', he fell over. Chet said, "The shot came from the barn's hayloft. You can see a shadow move back and forth around the window on the right if you watch."

Another police car was coming up the lane, so I had to do something to occupy the guy in the window. I fired three shots at the shadow in the window and then waited for some return fire. There was a flash from the window, so I aimed a few inches inside to give room for the two by four that framed the window. 'Bang', we both heard the moan that told us that the man had been hit. I told Chet, "Stay here and let me check on the Deputy."

I ran for the Deputy, waiting for the shot that could have come to cut me down. I reached the Deputy and couldn't find any blood, but I found a strong pulse and then the round buried in his vest. The man was just unconscious, not dead.

I waved at the Trooper when the State Police car stopped in the driveway behind the Sheriff's Deputy's car. He understood, got out of his car, and moved toward me. I told him the Deputy was just knocked out but might need attention. He went back to his car and called for a paramedic and backup.

He asked me what had happened when he came back. I told him the entire story of how I had been up late when I realized someone was sneaking up the lane. He understood why I had begun taking the opposition out when I told him what I heard what they wanted to do.

I called my brother to come to me, and he walked out in his undershorts and T-shirt, barefoot but carrying a twelve gauge that would do a number on anyone who got close.

I told him to go make sure the other kids were okay so they would go back to bed. The Deputy was coming out of it and asked the Trooper if he had arrested me yet. The Trooper looked at me and asked the Deputy why he should arrest me. The Deputy said, "Because the Sheriff wants him off this property and anything to get the job done is good."

The Trooper told him to lie still and went to his car. I couldn't hear the conversation, but it didn't sound good from where I was at.

Coming back to me, the Trooper told me the County Sheriff had issued a warrant for attacking possible trespassers. The problem was the warrant was issued at nine PM this evening. The attack began after midnight. The Trooper told me, "Let me talk to the State's Attorney about this and I'll make sure no one comes to exercise that warrant. I'll bet a judge would like to hear about this."

Another State Trooper car came up the lane and parked next to the first Trooper. The two had a long conversation. Another County Sheriff's car came along with the paramedics in an ambulance. The next to arrive was the County Coroner's van. The Sheriff's Deputies wanted the rifle I had used, and even told me to shut up when I asked for a receipt. He kept saying that it was used in the commission of a crime and would be confiscated. The Trooper who had come first told the Deputy he had to give me a receipt and that as far as he was concerned what had happened was self-defense. The Deputy became belligerent and was going to hit the Trooper when the other Trooper told him, "Do that and I'll arrest you for interfering with an Officer investigating a possible homicide."

That cooled the guy down for a few minutes.

This was nuts. Why the big deal about getting us off the land? Mom and Dad hadn't been in the ground but a little over a week, and people were fighting over the property. This had been my grandfather's place before Dad took over farming it. Our grandparents were still alive, but were in a nursing home in town. Dad had told me years ago that the place was legally still theirs, but the property had been willed to him a long time ago. He told me that there was a safe deposit box with enough for the inheritance taxes. I knew the key for the safe deposit box was taped to the underside of the middle drawer on the farm desk. No one needed it until Grandpa passed and the will probated.

Grandmother was pretty senile and couldn't remember any of us kids. She could remember her childhood and her wedding day in detail, but not what she had for breakfast. All we kids visited them a couple times a week, but the only one who really appreciated it was Grandpa. He was the angriest over the autopsy that said Dad was drunk when he died. He knew Dad didn't drink. No one listened to an old man with a senile wife.

I lay down on the kitchen table with the windows open so that I could hear the guineas if someone came up the lane. Josey, the oldest girl who wasn't quite a year younger than me, woke me up and said, "I have coffee for you. None of us got much sleep last night. We all heard the Sheriff has a warrant for you. Do you think they will come for you?"

"Don't know, Honey, I hope not. You'll be eighteen in a few months, so you might have to be the boss around here. You've learned about the books the same as me, and know we can make it on our own. We know how to farm and we'll do it."

Jeff came in from outside and said, "The Trooper is still here, but he's sound asleep in his car. At least he's here."

I had to wait until about eight thirty to call John Smith to find out what to do.

Josey asked me, "Where is the good-sized insurance policy that Mom and Dad bought to pay off any mortgages they may have on the farm and take care of us kids in the event something happened to them? I think it's a single policy that covers both of them and us kids all at the same time. I'm going to look for it. I wonder if they are in the safe deposit box."

That would help, but it wouldn't bring our parents back. Josey had a project now. The youngest boy, Jeff came down and leaned his Remington .22 semi-automatic rifle and a Mossberg .410 bolt action up against the wall by the door. He smiled at me and said, "I can back you and Chet up now. I know not to get in the way, but I can protect my sisters."

I guess this was circling the wagons.

Josey left the room and came back with another Remington .22 semi-auto rifle. I had forgotten that I had given her my second rifle when I had been given the .22 Magnum semi-auto for my birthday. She had gone through a couple of bricks of .22 rounds learning to shoot and was pretty good now. I guess we were a force.

The Sheriff himself came about noon and wanted me to come to his offices. I told him that I had to wait until John Smith, my attorney was available. The State Trooper wanted to know why the Sheriff wanted me to come to his office, and the heavy set man said it was none of the Trooper's business. The Trooper said, "I have orders from the State's Attorney to not let anyone interfere with these kids, and that includes Kenny. The State Department of Law Enforcement has men who will be here and in your offices," the Trooper looked at his watch, "Right about now, actually."

The Sheriff turned red, jumped in his car, and spun around on our gravel parking area spraying us and the Trooper's car with rocks. The Trooper smiled at me and said, "That's another nail. I wasn't here last night and replaced the man who was here, but he told me all about a warrant that had been issued before the attack on your land. You kids are lucky to still be okay."

I told the Trooper, "Thanks for watching out for us. Something's going on with this land that makes someone want it bad enough to kill for it. This is our home, and we're going to protect and farm it. All we kids are going to stick together and make this work."

We needed to go to the Salvation Army store in town and the bigger city to see if we could find clothes. I wanted to make sure everyone had clean clothes for school that started on Monday. It was then that I began worrying about the kids being away at school and not being protected. I could handle myself here at the house, but even that was a maybe.

We were sitting at our picnic table outside having lunch with the State Trooper when a car came up the lane. The car had a sign on it that said, Murray Explorations. Two men got out and came to the picnic table. They introduced themselves and brought out a bunch of papers from a briefcase. The man in charge, George Canning, asked me if I was aware that our farm sat on a very large mineral deposit. I had to say no, but asked, "What kind of mineral deposit?"