Oh Brother, Why?

© 2010 Michael Thoreau. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 12/10/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4520-9758-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-9759-6 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-9757-2 (dj)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010918467

Printed in the United States of America

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

To my wife, Julie, who watched me work my way through this book. Her patience and dedication is truly remarkable. All my love goes to her.

Thanks to my old work partner, Big Jim. My friends Chris, Chulch, John, Rocky and CJ for being there when I needed some one to listen. Such good friends.

Contents

The Story Teller

The Disciples

F-15E Strike Eagle Star Fighter

Fuel Service Tanker

Michael Thoreau

My Brother

My Step Mother

The Fight

Leaving Home

The Beginning

North Carolina

The Flight

Queen’s Country

Clarion Hotel

Working Week

Day One

Work Week

Day Two

Work Week

Day Three

Work Week

Day Four

Work Week

Day Five

Saturday

Sunday

Election Eve

Election Day

The Story Teller

The clash of the Titans, Shaka Zulu, Conan: The Barbarian, King Mackenami, The beast master and others were told to every kid in the region. From age five to fifty. Every one has heard those stories and more. After a death, and before a funeral, the story tellers told horror stories, like the undead, Mummies, Dracular and witch hunts. Of course, they were not called by these names, for example, The Beast Master was told to us as the little boy who could understand and talk to animals. King Mackenami was as is, an Idi Amin like. A man who became so feared, he made himself king.

Every evening, after chores and supper, children from around the area would go to Mr. Jerome’s barn for storytelling. Ms Lena, his wife was our teller. The old couple lived about a quarter mile from our home and on our farm. The school yard kids would say that the old couple were witches themselves and would sell children to the devil and that our souls would roam around the neighborhood in search of human bodies to neutralize themselves. Well, the grown ups would tell us that as a scare tactic. Always ‘they say’. No kids in our neighborhood was ever missed. Parents would tell their kids not to go there but I didn’t have a choice. My brother or I would always be the messengers. We were always told that the old man was some kind of family. I dared not to say that at school to anyone. Ms Lena told us stories which were told to her by her grandmother who was told by her great grand father. Nothing was written since the early years had no written language. It was passed on from generation to generation.

The one I liked most was The boy who spoke to animals. I could relate since I was a loner mostly. I Didn’t have any friends. I would sit under the trees at our back yard and talk to the animals around. My dog Tops mostly and the chickens, pigs and goats. Tops would look at me sometimes as if to say ‘don’t you have anything better to do. You sound so stupid.’ He would go chase a goat and come running back to me. I took care of him yet he calls me stupid!. Ha!

I have to tell you about King Mackenami. My brother, Joseph, fell in love with the story or the king himself. He was so intrigued by it, he would ask to tell it over and over again. Ms Lena love to tell stories, so when requests came, she would be happy to oblige. One story would last for days. So we had to remember where she left off, because, like a quiz, she would call out a name and the person had to tell her where she ended the day before or you go home and miss the ending.

In the north west region in Africa, where the ocean is near, yet so far, a boy of about twelve named Mackenami, was training to become a man. On his way home from swimming, he heard a rustling in the woods to his right. He slowly crept to take a look. What he saw he could not believe his eyes. There were a half a dozen white men dragging four young men like him, they were bleeding from cuts and bruises as they had been beaten. They had no trousers on and a rope was wrapped around their necks. They were then tied to the trees. The apparent leader took out his long knife and castrated the boys one by one. Their screams were horrifying. He then told them that they would grow up to be men but useless, and that they would not rape ever again. They had their meals and left the boys tied to the trees. They were tortured for the rape of his daughter by someone in a far away country. He said that he did not hate them but he would punish all the young men he found on his way home. They were going to the ocean and had many villages to pass. Young Mack was so frightened that he wet himself. He did not know what he could or should do. He was a boy learning to be a man. If only his father was there to do something. Then the thought of him becoming a man. That weighed heavily. That only a man would have the courage to do something. He took his old knife from the home made sheath at his side and cut the boys down. Then he went away in the woods to vomit. He came back to send the boys home and told them not the tell anyone what had happened. He started thinking that he, trying to be a man cannot let such things to happen. Something must be done, but he was only a boy and six men out on the path to destruction. He wanted to scream but he knew that he would face the same fate as the four young men. He wondered, how many young have been through this horrifying ordeal. He had to do something to stop this madness, but how? He asked himself. It came to him as he thought of his father and uncle. What would they do? Young Mack was scared but he followed the path that the men had taken. It was something he had to undertake it, if cost him his life. He kept his distance off to the side while the men were joking about the things which they had acquired on this trip. What they were going to do when they get to the next village. While he studied their behavior, he broke a straight limb from a tree. With his old knife, trimmed it to a double arms length. He then sharpened the tip and balanced it. He had made a spear.

He had followed a short distance when one of the men stopped to take a piss. Mack crept lightly to the man and threw the spear at the man’s back. The man twisted, saw Mack and fell. Not a word or scream. He died. Mack did not wait to check on the man he pulled his spear from him and ran ahead of the others. While running, he kept telling himself. I can do it. I am a man. A warrior! He stopped in time to see two men stopped to go back to check on the friend. Mack hurried back too. One man bent to turn the man on the ground. Mack threw the spear and it pierced right through. The other man started running back. Mack pulled his spear and gave chase. He got close enough to heave. The spear got its mark. The man fell, crawled a little, stopped and died. He pulled his spear and ran. The others, sensing that something was wrong, started running. Mack did the same to two more before he got tired and had to take a rest. The leader pressed on. Mack had been running all his life, chasing animals, playing, or running errands, so he could maintain with the best when it comes to running. Mack played games with the last man. He followed his every step. Mack ate berries and fruits whenever he could stop to eat. He slept whenever the man stopped to rest. The games lasted a while. Mack would place dry twigs near the man, so when he rolls or wake up the twigs would break. The man became very frightened, but kept running. Mack wanted to see where the man was going. Mack figured that he had ran for three days when they came to a river so wide that Mack could not believe his eyes. He had never seen something like that. It seemed that there was edge to this river and there was a noise and waves rolling on a road like of white sand. He thought that he had heard of a story about a sea so far away. Could it be that he had followed the man to the sea. By then the man was exhausted. He was no match for Mack. He took off his shirt or what was left, his long knife and went into the water. The water was salty. Mack went straight for him and wrestled him under: He held him there a while till the man pushed up and gasped for air. Mack dropped him a few more times to get him really weak, till he was so weak, he was almost lifeless. Mack dragged him on the shore, filled his mouth with sand and held his mouth till he went limp. Mack took him to the water and left him. He had tasted his first salt water bath. He also felt a sense of pride. He had avenged the young men. Mack spent the next three days by the ocean before he made his way home as a man. He was brought to tell of his ordeal to the elders. He told it with such prowess that there was a feeling of envy from even some of the leaders. After that he was treated with so much respect that he was often brought to the village meetings.

He soon got tired of the everyday life that he left to see the world. He would always be the victor in many fights even when he was outnumbered. He had such a large following that he would have others do his bidding. He was a leader. He decided to start his own village. Built his house by the sea where only fishermen were allowed to build around him. He established a farming community who was responsible to feed the village. Woodsmen for lumber, to build. Hunters, crafters, teachers and schools an so on. Mack formed an army and proclaimed himself ‘The lion’. To his people, the lion is called king which in his language is called Kenga. Thus, Kenga Mackenami. A King was born. The king formed a circle of trusted men who protected him at all times. He had handpicked twelve men to be his generals for his army. They did whatever he wanted done privately. They were responsible for the run of his nation. Kenga was so well known and popular that he often had visitors from all other nations who brought gifts and asked for favors.

Mack also took three wives and had over a dozen children. He lived a long rich life. Before he died, he made his children equal partners and made them form a council to the nation.

His wishes were that there would never be another king. They would live with the legacy of Kenga Mackenami.

The Disciples

Brother, where did you get your group. I asked.

As you know, my disciples. he said proudly.

"ANDREW and I go a long way. We went to school