Johnson Farm

log

Prologue

John closed the book and looked out through the windshield. One of the green freeway signs was just coming into view. Interchange coming up in three miles… Dad, why can’t we stop at Craters of the Moon?

John’s father, Lieutenant Commander Donovan Johnson United States Navy, looked straight ahead and kept both hands on the wheel. He wore the look he used when dealing with ‘official businesses’ at work, or with his family. Because we need to get to the farm. Theo will be waiting.

We haven’t seen Uncle Theo since my second birthday. How much of a priority can he be? Besides, Craters of the Moon is on the way. We’re going to be driving right down the middle of them, John muttered.

So you will get to see them.

No Dad… John flipped the switch for the door lock. I want to get out and see them. If we stay on schedule we’ll get to Uncle Theo’s around two. There’s plenty of time. It’s not like Dad wants to get there either…

John looked over his shoulder at the garment bag that held Dad’s dress uniform and John’s suit, his new black suit. It’s not fair, John said, We were supposed to be going deep sea fishing.

That’s life John. We have to go. We’re expected.

‘We’re expected…’ How many times have I heard that before? Every time Dad has some party, ‘We’re expected’… Every time Dad’s lady of the moment arranges a date, ‘We’re expected.’ Every time it’s what someone else wants, ‘We’re expected’… But when it’s something I want… Or need… Or care about…

It’s a funeral John. His father didn’t look at him, there was a van to pass. It’s important for the family.

John rolled his eyes. Uncle Theo, Aunt Mary, Uncle Harley, and some guy that was dead now, that was ‘the family’. Mom didn’t count, not to Dad. Her side of the family hadn’t counted since the divorce. Dad rarely talked about the people he did count as family, especially Uncle Harley.

It doesn’t matter. Can’t do anything about it anyway. Two more years and I could drive myself back to Craters of the Moon. Dad would probably claim I stole the car… If it was summer he could have been at Moms, and Dad could have gone without him. Does the custody agreement cover that?

John turned back to his book and let the miles fly by. The story of the Lost River has to be better than this…

At least the trip got John out of school for a few days, even though he had to do a book report. Roadside Geology of Idaho would be easy enough to report on. He’d been collecting rocks for years. And I’m actually getting to see some of the stuff I’m reading about…

When he finished the chapter he flipped through the book looking at the pictures. He stopped on a shot of reddish sandstone. There’s a lot of ancient seabed around here, and fossil fish…

We should be fishing right now… Deep sea fishing was supposed to make up for the Padres game when Dad ended up with CDO watch. And the game was supposed to be to make up for… It doesn’t matter…

John went back to flipping through the book. He stopped on a picture of some rhyolite. Couldn’t we have come up through Nevada? John asked.

I’d rather stay on the fifteen, Dad said, Some of the stretches through Nevada are pretty desolate. Besides there’s probably still snow.

That was true enough. There’d been unmelted patches as they went through the Milad Pass. But, there were a lot of places to stop for rocks on the Nevada road. Not that we would have stopped… Dad didn’t see the value of ‘digging up rocks’.

Sometimes Dad talked about the ‘rock machine’ he and his brother had when they were kids. That was about all he said about Uncle Harley, that they had a rock machine. He hadn’t even said that much since the divorce.

Mom could have gotten Dad to stop. Before the divorce…

Mom did a lot of things before the divorce, she was a stay at home mom then. Now she was dating some guy from work and going to events with some ‘office professionals’ organization. But, beyond the delusion that the 1950’s were still cool she didn’t really do much anymore. Who would believe that staying with Dad was better?

Look, basalt, Dad said.

John looked up. They’d reached Craters of the Moon. He laughed when he saw the sign. No Hunting. Yeah, take a shot out there. That’s a self-correcting problem.

Dad almost laughed. What?

John rolled his eyes again. Look at all the rocks Dad. If you took a shot out here it would probably ricochet back and hit you in the head.

Dad shook his head and went back to watching the road. I don’t think…

John scanned the scenery. There was a little scrub, but more lichen on boulders than real plants. Besides, John said, what is there to hunt around here?

Dad pointed. John followed the line from his finger to the doe that was disappearing between two boulders.

There really are things to shoot out there… Hey Dad, John asked, Think we could get some shooting in once we get to the farm? A deer’s too big, but there’s got to be rabbits and stuff.

Dad flinched just slightly. John almost missed it.

Can we? John asked.

We’ll see, Dad said. He muttered something under his breath. All John could catch was Harley and Last time. Probably shouldn’t push…

John watched the terrain, looking for more deer. He spotted a couple rabbits between the rocks. He’d brought his air guns, the rifle and the pistol. If he could elude Dad and the uncles for a while he could get in some shooting whether they liked it or not.

The rocks were beginning to blur together. You can only look at so much basalt, even when you’re a rock hound. There was no help for it. John laid back and tried to go to sleep.

His mind wandered. Some blond girl was waving at him.

The next thing he knew Dad was shaking him.

John pushed Dad’s hand off his shoulder. What?

Dad pointed, then turned at a sign that read ‘private road’.

They were in rolling hills, more dirt than rock. But still some boulders though… There were fields, some short and green, others just rows of dirt. There was some kind of irrigating rig in the field just to the left. Ahead of them was a cluster of buildings. A couple of barns stood off in the distance. The houses were closer.

The smallish house on the left was faded avocado green. Between the peeling paint and the aged wood of the porch it could have blended into the surroundings, or been written off as abandoned. But, the roof was too new, red and black asphalt shingles.

The house to the right was bigger, newer, and painted the same red as the barn behind it. Someone had even used the same white for the trim. The chairs on the porch were done in a floral pattern that Mom would have loved. Real 1950’s escapees…

John’s eye was drawn to the thing between the houses. So, what is…?

It looked like a cross between a chicken coop and a little girl’s playhouse. But, whoever she was, the girl had been gone a long time. The coop’s faded avocado paint had pealed, revealing a faded blue underneath. Where the blue paint had peeled away there was old, worn wood. Above the walls the roof was brown and vibrant green, old wooden shingles playing home to lively moss.

Dad, what’s that?

Dad ignored him. He stopped the car in front of the red house and pointed to the door that was just opening. They’re waiting.

Chapter 1 Theodosius

John unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. By the time his feet hit the ground he could see an older man in a red and green plaid shirt eyeing them from the doorway. John turned and pulled his backpack out after him.

John. Dad was watching him through the SUV. Don’t pull any of that gaming… Dad stopped himself. Don’t pull out any gaming stuff in front of Theo or Mary Ellen.

I won’t Dad. You told me three times. John hadn’t even put it in his backpack.

They linked up in front of the SUV. Dad walked slowly, and got slower as they neared the steps.

The older man stepped out onto the porch. He looked them up and down before speaking. Donovan. He took a breath. Johnathan.

John you remember your uncle Theo, Dad said.

Uncle Theo’s hands were working hands, callused and tanned on the back. The belt at his waist was brown cow leather with a brass buckle, worn but serviceable. His boots were worn, but clean and recently brushed. He scowled, then motioned toward the door. Come in.

The door opened to a hallway. Inside, other doorways staggered off, one to the right and then one to the left. Then, the hall ended in a room. A voice called from the doorway to the right. Donovan, Johnathan, come in.

John had already started turning when Dad took him by the shoulder and spun him to the right. Hope your shoes are clean, Dad muttered.

The room was carpeted in deep off white shag. A brown microfiber couch and love seat lined the inside wall. Three pictures of buildings, two white and one gray, hung above them.

The outside wall was dominated by a huge picture window covered with a gauzy shade that let in light but blocked any outsider’s view. Forest green curtains bounded the window contrasting just slightly with the walls that were two shades lighter.

At the far end were two rocker recliners covered in the same brown micro fiber as the couch and love seat. Between the chairs an end table held a wicker ‘picnic’ basket and a blue ceramic bowl with yarn running out a hole in the side.

A woman with a white bun hairdo sat in the chair nearest the window. She was knitting something the same color as the curtains. She matched Uncle Theo, except her shirt was red and white.

Johnathan, I’m your aunt Mary Ellen, the woman said, My, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. Her eyes shot past him. Theodosius, would you check on the timer dear? I’ve got some brownies baking.

Behind them Uncle Theo grunted and stomped off down the Hall.

Aunt Mary smiled softly, but it didn’t last long. It’s good of you to come, she said, Uncle Theodosius would have wanted it. I’m glad you made it for the funeral.

John turned and looked down the hall after Uncle Theo. Dad turned him back sharply.

Aunt Mary smiled. "No, not that Theodosius dear, though some days… His uncle Theodosius, your father’s uncle."

John nodded. Two Theodosius’s in one family? Did they not have enough names in the olden days?

Well, sit, Aunt Mary said, We’ll go back and have some brownies and milk later.

Dad seated himself on the couch, keeping the loveseat between him and the chairs. John sat on the other end of the couch keeping his backpack, and his father, between him and the chairs. John pulled out the Roadside Geology of Idaho, but put it down. He pulled out another book and opened it to the section on Spencer Opals. He was vaguely aware of Aunt Mary saying something about having to leave right after the funeral.

Hmmpf. The sound shook John out of his reading. Uncle Theo was looking down with a mix of longing and annoyance. When he realized John was looking up at him he refocused on Aunt Mary. There’s five minutes on the timer Mary Ellen.

Thank you, Aunt Mary said. Through the whole conversation she hadn’t missed a stitch. Theodosius, Donovan says he’s going to be up for promotion soon, full commander.

Uncle Theo ‘hmmpfed’ again and ambled over to his chair.

Any word from Eliza? Aunt Mary asked.

Dad shook his head. I see her when I drop John off and pick him up. We don’t talk much.

Uncle Theo started rocking, slowly. If you’d have married a local girl you wouldn’t have this problem, you or John John.

John flinched. Few people had called him John John since kindergarten. Nobody’s called me that since the divorce.

But, Uncle Theo said, You had to go to Boise State instead of BYU.

Dad shrugged. How are the Cougars doing this year anyway? Dad asked.

Not bad, Theo said, The new quarterback seems to be working out. Seems like you’d support the home team, but then again. He let his voice trail off.

Home team would be the Broncos, or maybe the Bengals, Dad said, Depends on where you are in the state. BYU isn’t even in the state Theo.

Uncle Theo glared. You know what I mean.

Well. Aunt Mary set aside her knitting. I should check those brownies. And then I should get started on the funeral lunch items. Best to get as much as I can done early. Johnathan can you help me in the kitchen? John shoved his books back into his pack and followed her down the hall.

The room at the end was the same width as the room they left, but maybe three times the length. John’s eyes worked their way left to right. 

The one end was a kitchen with tiled walls and floor. The wall tiles were ceramic. The floor tiles and counter tops were real stone, black and pink granite. It made the island that jutted out from the far wall seem even more massive.

Aunt Mary pulled on hot pads and opened the top oven of the double oven stack.

The center section was dominated by a table with six chairs, all dark stained wood. Behind the table a sliding glass door offered a view of the barn beyond. The rest of the wall was paneled in dark pine.

The far end’s walls were entirely dark pine. Along the outside wall were three rows of pictures over older, worn couches that might have matched the front room once. The matching recliners were present as well, facing the entertainment center on the inside wall. At the very end another doorway offered an escape route.

There were footsteps behind him.

Kitchen’s new, Uncle Theo said, We redid it last year. It was time.

Still the same paneling though, Dad said.

I like the paneling Donovan. It suits the family.

John focused on the pictures over the couches. On top were three portraits, the center one a bit bigger than the others. John didn’t recognize the men in them. Next came portraits of an older woman, two older men, Uncle Theo, Aunt Mary, Dad’s other brother and Dad, all in a row. Below them were three pictures of younger women and a teen boy. Probably Uncle Theo’s kids.

The paneling was dated when you built the house Theo.

I built the house, Donovan. I paid for it. I got what I wanted.

A hand landed on John’s shoulder and held it. So how are the kids? Dad asked.

We’re grandparents again, Aunt Mary said, Elissa just had her second. Annise has one too. Jordan, well, she’s the one I’ll be going to see in Detroit.

The girls are doing well, Uncle Theo said, All three married in the temple. Married return missionaries too. Of course that’s not worth what it used to be.

Glad they’re doing well, Dad said, I think we’re going through a phase right now. John could feel his Dad’s eyes on him. I’m sure you know what that’s like Theo.

Uncle Theo ‘Hmmpfed’ again. What are we having for dinner Mary Ellen?

Aunt Mary set her knife down a little harder than she’d intended. Well Theodosius, we do have a bit to do for the funeral. So, I thought I would go simple, tuna casserole, beets and a green salad.

You could get help with the funeral food you know, Uncle Theo said.

I am Theodosius. But, I am the Relief Society President. I need to set a good example. Her back was ramrod straight.

Theo looked at his wife with a mix of pride and exasperation. Just as long as we get dinner. I wonder when Harley’s going to get here.

Dad raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"It figures. He would be the last one to show up," Uncle Theo said.

At least he is showing up, Dad said, If he shows up. Dad wore one of his best ‘don’t bother me’ expressions.

John found a good spot on one of the couches and dug out Road Side Geology. At least this way it looks like I’m doing homework.

So, Johnathan… Oh no…Aunt Mary… But, no amount of wishing could stop her. So, Johnathan, what have you been doing in school?

Chapter 2 Uncle Harley

Aunt Mary’d asked John the question, but Dad started talking, talking about grades and classes. Uncle Theo mumbled something about having work in the barn and went out the sliding glass door. John sighed and got busy reading. Sometime after that Dad and Aunt Mary stopped talking.

John finished the book in record time, the silence helped. It smelled like dinner was almost ready. Aunt Mary was working on the salad. Dad was looking out the sliding glass doors. He seemed content to stand around waiting. At this rate we’ll be