Burn Baby Burn Pt. 01

The story made the nightly news on prime time for several months and garnered the wrath of community leaders, politicians, and legal commentary's far and wide. Documentaries aired featuring the life and times of young Florence born of Romani immigrants and raised with her older sister Molly. Wed at the age of 20 to a man 15 years her senior, she led a quiet life until her first and only pregnancy 11 years later.

Chapter Two

"I feel ya Tree." Otis said sympathetically. He belched as he pulled another cigarette from the breast pocket of his worn and greasy coveralls. "And I'm happy as hell to go wit ya and the boy this weekend. Where we goin anyway? Out by the lake? Shur could use a couple hours fishin on the shore yessiree." He paused long enough to light his cigarette, take a long drag and exhale with a rush.

Chad sat beside his old friend and drank slowly from his can of beer as he pondered his life. They sat out back of the garage that Otis had started up nearly 20 years ago. Chad, being a certified diesel mechanic was always happy to lend a hand when his expertise was needed.

It was Thursday evening and they had wrapped up Billy's birthday party several hours ago. Eager to get out of the house and away from his bitter and dysfunctional family, he headed straight over to Oty's and spent the last hour bearing his heart and soul to the other man. Despite their difference in age (and race) they were as close as brothers; with Otis being the older by 2 years. Whereas Chad appeared younger than his 37 years, standing tall and strong with the body of a wrestler and steelworker, Otis looked decades older and walked about with a stooped frame and barrel chest from years of tobacco use. His dark skin wrinkled and sagged from his thin body especially beneath his eyes and chin.

After a wracking cough Oty hocked and spat a phlegm wad before pulling on his smoke once more. "It really ain't no neva mind ta me see, but the missus an I has been watchin and wonderin about some of the goings on ova yonda at yer place lately." He spat again and continued like he was discussing the weather. "Yessir a trip to that lake sounds mighty fine to me. An we bringin that young'un a yours too?"

Chad let his comments sink in as he nodded his head solemnly.

"Ya hear about that damn Lah-to-ree Tree? They says that three differen folk won that pile o cash! And so far only twos made claim to it." He shook his head in wonder as he grabbed a beer, handed it to Chad, then grabbed another for himself. "How much ya think they all got when alls settled with taxation and such?"

Chad grunted and popped his beer. "Dunno. How much was the pot?" He took a long drink.

"680 sum Mil-ee-un dollah."

Choking as he swallowed sent beer foam shooting out Chads nose which caused Otis to cackle.

"Holy shit!" Chad gasped as he recovered from his burning sinuses. Tears streamed from his eyes, and he laughed at his own antics. "Goddam Oty! That's...225 million each. Minus what...Say 25%? That's still about 170 fuckin million." He shook his head in wonder.

"Whowee!" Otis cried rocking back in his chair.

"What'd you and the misus notice about my place Oty?"

With a tired sigh the skinny black man lowered his chair back to the ground and fished out another cigarette. "Well, it jus seems like as soon as you head on off to the fields to earn your keep, that there Frank fella shows right up at yer door and makes hisself at home."

A cold chill settled over Chad's huge shoulders as he digested his friends' words. "Ya don't say?" He muttered under his breath. Otis heard him and nodded.

"Yessir. An if'n it ain't him showin up at yer door—it's yer missus headin out fer days at a time with all the kiddos in tow. She'll leave word wit me or Bea ta come over an feed Gunner and let him out a few times a day." He stubbed out the cigarette and finished his beer. "Ain't mine ta say boy, but sure smells rotten if ya know what I mean."

"Smells like what Oty?" Part of his mind denied the innuendo as just coincidence. But he knew.

"Well with ya gone all that time and Franky boy havin all tha money from his poor dead wife—God rest her soul." Otis' eyes opened wider suddenly, the white part showing a yellowish tint. He looked uncomfortable as he sat beside his friend. "Like I said it ain't mine ta say." He swallowed nervously. "But it sure has the feel of yer woman hangin with a new sugar daddy."

It was getting dark but the moisture on his cheeks reflected the failing light as Chad slowly lowered his chin to his chest and let the dreadful feelings wash over him. With a grunt he rose from the chair and turned away from his friend.

"I best be getting back home."

***

Running off and joining the Navy had caused no small amount of grief for Chad from his and Molly's families. His dad pretty much disowned him for 'abandoning the farm' and—even though she supported him as always, his mom became sad and lonely. Molly and he had discussed their future and she excited about the steady income, housing (once they married) and free health care. But she cried piteously as she saw him off on the bus to Great Lakes where he would go to boot camp.

Basic training was intended to break down a man (or woman) and build them back up into a better, smarter, more disciplined sailor—ready to go out and defend their country against tyranny and evil. Compared to the long hours and physical demands of the farm Chad considered Basic a cake walk. It amazed him some guys actually failed to make the grade and were washed out early. He learned quickly how to follow orders and adjust to the military mind set. In 9 weeks, he literally 'sailed' through boot camp. With nothing to spend money on he was able to save enough for Molly, her sister, and his mom to make the trip and participate in his graduation. Seconds after being dismissed to his very first liberty he found himself catching a squealing black-haired beauty who caught the gaze of every man (attached or otherwise) on the compound.

After Boot Camp he reported directly to Basic Engineering Common Core school where he spent 14 weeks learning his new trade as a diesel engine mechanic. Halfway through the course he was allowed 12 days liberty during the Christmas holiday. He stopped by his hometown just long enough to collect his fiancé and headed to Vegas for their wedding. Upon graduation and earning his rating (ECC) he was ordered to San Diego where they moved into base housing, and he joined the crew of his first ship.

8 months later their first child Bethany Jordan Hartley was born at Balboa Naval Hospital. She shared her mother's raven hair and crystal blue eyes and filled the hearts of her parents with joy. 3 months later, with work-ups complete, Chad departed on his first at-sea deployment. Originally scheduled for 6 months, their tour extended twice, and he didn't return to his home port until 9 months later. Many things happened during that fateful deployment. The Hartley Christmas was absent a father. As heart wrenching as it was, it paled compared to his missing the birth of William Radcliff Hartley. The timing must've been perfect for them. While breast feeding their daughter, it seemed unlikely that Molly would ovulate again for a while. They were wrong and Billy was born in July, also at Balboa Naval Hospital; and he too sported his mother's ebony locks and crystal blue eyes. On the plus side Chad was meritoriously promoted to E5 for outstanding performance during his first 'WestPac'. The money was good and upon his return he enjoyed 30 full days of Leave. Returning home to Iowa was bittersweet. Bitter for Chad but sweet for his wife and two children who were well received by both their parents and all their friends. Frankly, he felt suffocated by all the attention and couldn't wait to get back to the fleet and on with his career.

***

It was early Friday morning when Chad woke up on the couch, Gunner sprawled across his legs. He had slept in the clothes he wore home, not even bothering to go up to the Master bedroom and change. Instead, he just kicked off his boots and lay back on the sofa. God knows he had slept in worse places; berthing aboard ship came to his mind with a grunt. Nobody was awake yet, so he let Gunner out back to take care of business while he filled his dish with kibbles and started a pot of coffee. Quietly going upstairs, he gingerly retrieved some clean cloths then retreated to the main level where he showered in the guest room.

He decided to keep to himself today and consider his situation. Just as the rest of the family began stirring, he headed out to his truck, letting Gunner claim shot gun, as he started it up and headed out to the Truckstop for breakfast. 10 minutes into his trip he heard his cellphone buzzing in the glove box. He ignored it and turned up the radio. Rolling down the windows drowned out further interruptions but drew a few stares from other motorists, who happened to glance up and find themselves staring into the drooling face of a huge German rottweiler.

"Officials with the Lottery Commission still have no idea who the third party is. Standing to win over 225 million Dollars, no one is certain why they haven't chosen to come forth yet."

Wouldn't that be something? He mused. "Gunner, we need to start buying some lottery tickets." Gunner was more interested in the silver convertible beside them with the blonde lady at the wheel.

"Fine I'll just grab a few at the Truckstop after breakfast." It was a popular place and he stopped by every time he left town for work. He frowned suddenly as he remembered his last stop there 3 weeks ago, on his way to the oil fields. He topped off both of his tanks as usual and went back for his change...

'Sunofabitch' He felt his pulse suddenly race. Instead of his $14 in change he opted to get 7 MegaMilion QuikPicks!

He reached up to his visor and slipped the printed ticked from above it. He blinked as the 7 rows of numbers stared back at him. 'There's no way.' He chuckled to himself and placed the ticket back in its spot. It was almost with a sense of urgency that he finally pulled into the Truckstop and parked. He left Gunner inside with the windows cracked but made point of locking the truck for probably the first time since he owned it. He forced himself to have breakfast first. 'Let's not lose track here mate.'

He spent his time eating slowly and enjoying his coffee while he went over his concerns, considering what he feared and what he knew to be fact. And where did that leave him? Was his wife of 18 years cheating on him? If so, how can he prove it? If he could prove it—did it really matter anyways?

Bethany and Billy were both headed for college in a few months. Even though he was 11 months younger than his sister, they both graduated at the same time and were headed Iowa State with Athletic scholarships. That left Bobby who would still be with them for 6 more years. Which begged the same question that kept recurring over the last 12 years.

What was with Bobby? While his two older siblings resembled their mother in looks and skin tone, while boasting their father's physical characteristics (both were extremely fit and athletically inclined); Robert Jordan Hartley was the exact opposite in every respect. He was born with hair so light it was considered white until it became slightly blonde as he grew. His body was slender, and his growth chart was stunted compared to his brother and sister. Often it was joking suggested that his father might've been the mailman. For the first time Chad thought about it and was surprised (or amused) to recall that (Uncle) Frank Discarsio was also slight of build and snowy locked.

And just like that his question towards Molly's infidelity answered itself. But was that proof enough for anyone but him? Could he even be certain? Not without a paternity test. DNA doesn't lie. If it were true—then when was he conceived. He was born during Chad's second enlistment. Chad spent much of those 4 years deployed during the Gulf war. Molly had opted to move back home with their two toddlers so she could lean on their grandparents to help out. That put her in close proximity to Frank, but he was still married, and Florence was still very much alive. What the fuck?

So, then what? He sipped his coffee and reconsidered it all. Even if Bobby wasn't his, he was still the most loving member of his family. Did it really matter to Chad if he was not his biological father? Hell no! Not one bit. How did Frank fit in to this? They still called him 'Uncle' but Chad was certain that both the cheaters were fully aware of his parentage.

He finished his breakfast and signaled for a refill. 'So where are you at Chad old boy?' Is your family in the shitter? Yes indeed. Can you put it back together? Scratch that—Do you WANT to put it back together? Now that is the question isn't it. What to do first...

Prove her infidelity? Again, why? She is being such a heartless bitch lately...damn when was the last time we even had sex—much less made love? When was the last time I even felt like I belonged in that house? Is her cheating even important? Was it enough to warrant divorce? How do I get divorced? If Bobby is Frank's kid and she is cheating with Frank, do I get custody of him? Will I even get to see him?

He shook his head trying to clear his mind of all the things weighing on him. The more he thought of her the angrier he became. Fucking cheating bitch! How could she do this to him? What did he do to be treated so badly by her? And why did his two 'real' kids hate him so much?

Slowly he calmed his mind to the point that he was ready to consider his options. How would they divide everything? Does she get the house? Would he have to pay alimony? Or child support, even if his kid wasn't 'his'? What about his retirement?

They had a joint checking account that he put most of his check into. He set aside all his bonuses and overtime into a second account in his name only because he intended to save up for the future. No way in hell he was giving her that. He'd spend it first.

With a sigh he finished the last of his coffee and sat holding the empty cup, staring off into space. Several thoughts came to mind.

I need a DNA test for Bobby.

I need to speak to a divorce Attorney. Who was that guy in high school? Braden? Brad? Barker?

I need to shore up the finances to protect myself.

If divorce was the answer Chad was damned sure going down fighting for every last penny, if only to keep it out of the greedy cheating bitches' hands.

'Oh Fuck!' He sat up straight and once again remembered the Lottery.

'Oh, double Fuck!' This would be the worst fucking time to go and win the fucking Lottery! No fucking way!

He rose on stony legs and paid his check, leaving a generous tip as always. His mind and heart racing, he walked from the restaurant into the Truckstop quick mart lobby and approached the lady behind the counter. He recognized her from his frequent stops.

"Hey Sandy." He greeted her.

She looked up and smiled brightly. "Chad! How are ya Hun?"

He glanced nervously at the Lottery counter. "Um. Good, I guess. Could be better, truth be told." He swallowed nervously. "Hey. Has anyone ever claimed that third part of the jackpot last month?"

He was surprised when she jumped up off her seat and leaned over the counter excitedly. "No! But you wanna hear something they aren't saying in the news?" She actually quivered she was so excited.

"Uh, what is that?"

She looked fit to burst. "That unclaimed ticket was sold...right here!" She stabbed the counter with her finger.

"That right?" He said quietly. Inside he was nearly as pent up as she was. "Huh. That is something." He placed his thumb under his chin as if deep in thought. "Hey, is there any way you can print up what those winning numbers were?"

She blinked at him then narrowed her eyes for a second before nodding her head. "Oh sure. Just a sec." And with that she reached over to the Lottery register and punched a few keys. He heard the quiet buzzing of the printer and she handed him a printout on the same white and red paper that the tickets came on. "Here ya go hun. Good luck!"

He thanked her and made his way back to his truck where Gunner decided to try out the driver's seat for a spell. He opened the cab door letting the dog jump out and make his rounds, before climbing in and staring blankly at the wheel. With a snort he glanced at the winning numbers in his hand. 'There's just no way.' He snorted again and grabbed to Lottery ticket stashed beneath the visor. Holding them next to each other he began comparing the two.

BAM! WOOF! He jumped in his seat with a curse and looked out the driver's window to see his stupid dog staring at him with his mouth open in a stupid grin. "Damn it Gunner!" He yelled. "Get down! Shit! You scared the crap out of me." He opened the door and got out long enough for the mutt to jump in. Reclaiming his seat, he picked up both papers and once again held them side by side to compare the numbers.

'Oh triple FUCK!'