Tale of Johnny Ray

Trying to wrap up Shark Killer within the next day or so and plan on putting all my effort back into Johnny Ray. Promise.

 

What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger
Nietzsche


Daddy,
By the time you read this, I will be miles away, never to return. I have lived under your roof for eighteen years, which was eighteen years too long.
I didn't stay as long as I did to finish school. I did it for Tammy. I have noticed the way you look at her ever since she turned twelve.
Why do you think I started becoming more agreeable the last few years? It wasn't because I suddenly started enjoying it.
I was trying to keep your mind off of her, because there was no one else to help. Momma #### sure wasn't going to say anything.
Yeah, she knows, in case you ever wondered. I tried to tell her after that first time. She just turned away and wouldn't listen.
To this day, she won't meet my eye the day after. Guilt and shame. Guilt for not stopping it and shame for not being desireable to her husband.
And fear. Fear of you. Just like everybody else that comes in contact with you.
But not me. Not anymore. Tammy is fifteen now and you are getting older. She can probably hold you off. I told her to kick and bite and scream and do whatever it took to keep your filthy hands off of her.
That's right, I told her. Told her everything about a year ago. And now I'm telling you something. If you make one move toward her.
If you touch one hair on her head, you will regret the day you were born. I'm not scared to talk about it. Not anymore. I am beyond that.
I will tell the church deacons. I will tell the preacher. I will send a letter to the #### newspaper. I warn you not to try me.
Tammy will know how to reach me and I will know. Just leave well enough alone. Just stop it all Dad.
Linda
_________________________________________________
This was the letter Alexander Pennyworth, father of Linda and Tammy discovered underneath his windshield wiper blade early on the morning after Linda's high school graduation.
If he was hard, bitter man before, he became even worse.
But he never touched his youngest daughter.

 

Ant and I were having our lunch in the chow hall when a very mellow looking Ernie strode up to our table.
"Enjoy your last gourmet meal for a while gentlemen. There's a duece and a half with your name on it parked by the supply hut. Be rolling in about an hour.
It will take you to your new base camp where you will hook up with your platoon, providing they're not out on patrol, in which case you get to hang out til they return.
Oh, almost forgot, here are some detailed survival instructions" he said with a wink as he dropped a fat manila envelope on the table.
"Why do you play jungle Santa Claus Ernie? More to the point, how can you afford to? Not that we ain't appreciative, mind you. Just wondering" I asked him.
"That's a fair question. One that I would have to ask myself, were I in your position. To put it bluntly, my parents are loaded and I'm a spoiled rich kid.
What my mom sends me is way more than my monthly check from Uncle Sam.
Which probably leads to the next obvious question, 'What the hell am I doing here?'
Well it's not by choice, I can promise you that. I had it made. College deferment. Second year medical school. Heck, I was going to be a friggin doctor.
But I had this nasty habit of raiding the med closet. Especially the painkillers. Not too surprising, huh?
Anyway, the second time I got caught, it was a felony narcotics charge and daddy's money couldn't rescue me.
He was able to get me a high powered attorney though. And this is the deal I got. Fort Dix or Rikers Island.
I figured the Army might not be that bad. After all, everybody doesn't go to Viet-Nam"
That made me think of Eugene Beck, from West Virginia, and how disappointed he was in not being able to join us here.
"Well maybe everybody doesn't go to Viet-Nam, but they made sure I did. After getting here, a strange thing happened.
I started feeling sympathy for the guys that never had an option. The option that I took for granted and screwed up.
I get on my knees every night and thank God in heaven that I'm not out in the boonies where you guys are going.
Just my way of showing my gratitude. And staying stoned is my way of coping. I figure if this place ever gets it, maybe it won't hurt as bad.
I won't ever see you guys again. I'm a two digit midget. Sixty-three days and a wake up and I'm outa here dudes.
You guys might think I'm a wuss, or whatever, but I'm just doing my time the only way I know how. Just surviving"
"No, I don't think that about you" I told him. "I think you got a great attitude man. Just doing what you gotta do. Just like we're doing what we have to do.
It's not like any of us have a choice in this"
"Same here" Ant said."Not your fault we drew the short straw. It's been a pleasure to know you dude. I promise to look you up back in Brooklyn. You can count on that"
"Well, I reckon it's time to saddle up and take that ride" I said, trying to sound upbeat, but not fooling anybody.

 

Linda placed the plain white envelope under her father's windshield wiper blade at three AM and began walking to the bus depot.
It would take her one hour and ten minutes to arrive. She knew this because of the countless times she had walked to the teen center over the years, which was located directly across the street.
As a matter of fact, she knew the time it took to walk anywhere in town since her father never allowed her to drive, despite her saving up to buy her own car.
He said it just wasn't proper, despite the fact that so many women drove nowadays. She knew the real reason. It was all about control.
Control that he couldn't bear to relinquish. He had to know it was slipping away.
She couldn't dissuade the guilt for leaving Tammy behind, despite her sister's encouragement for her to leave. She could only pray this would work out.
And she had no doubt that she wouldn't hesitate to carry out the threats she issued in the letter. She could only hope her father took them as seriously as they were intended.

The bus was scheduled to depart at 0530. She didn't purchase her ticket in advance for fear of word of this reaching home.
Even news that trivial tends to travel rapidly in a small town where at least half the population knows the other half.
She made an anonymous phone call to the depot yesterday and was assured there were always seats available on the northbound bus.
And if there wasn't an available seat, she had time to return home and retrieve the note before her father left for the mill at 0645.

The young man(perhaps twenty-five) looked vaguely familiar. Fortunately, pehaps fatiqued from working the overnight shift, he didn't attempt any small talk.
You pays yer money and you gets yer ticket thank-you maam
Linda was proud of herself for deciding to purchase fare to Chattanooga, knowing there would be a stopoff in Atlanta, which was her actual destination. She figured this would throw off anyone, namely her father, who would attempt to follow her tracks.
She worked hard to conceal her nervousness, which only made it worse, when the bus didn't arrive at promptly 0530.
She couldn't shake the notion that her plan would go awry. She envisioned her father, accompanied by the police, arriving at any second to apprehend her.
Her rational mind was trying to interject, telling her if her father knew she was doing this, she never would have made it past the end of the driveway.
Besides, she was an adult, and there was nothing illegal about taking a bus trip. Nonetheless, she couldn't shake these jitters.
Relief washed over Linda when the bus arrived, albeit fourteen minutes late.

She found a vacant window seat on the left side of the bus, just as she had hoped would be available.
Once again proud of her planning, she would not have to contend with the rising sun from the east, which would surely bake the passengers on the other side on this sure to be hot day in June.
Within moments, a well dressed gentleman of perhaps fifty took the seat next to hers. He offered her a pleasant 'good morning' and immediately began to peruse his copy of the Atlanta Journal.
At first she was mystified at how this could be, then remembered seeing the vending machine in the bus depot.
Perhaps he would allow her to look at it later and she could go through the classified section and look for someplace she could cheaply rent.
Not having a clue of what anything would cost her up there, she could only hope she had enough to tide her over until she could generate some income.
If I had planned better, I could have bought my own copy a while back and done some research she thought.
But she also knew she would have been deathly scared of her parents finding it the house and demanding an explanation.
Oh how bad she really wanted to continue her education, but that would just have to wait. It was all about survival now.
Fortunately this was express bus, stopping only in Tifton, Cordele, Macon and Griffin enroute to Atlanta, but a long ride at any rate.
As the bus droned on, despite her anxiety, Linda finally dosed off, having been too nervous to sleep at all the night before.
She awoke with a start, understandably disoriented. Even before her vsion came into focus the aroma of fresh coffee was unmistakeable.
She stifled a yawn as she grinned sheepishly at her companion.
"Sorry about that" she said "Hope I didn't snore or anything"
"No need to apologize for anything young lady. These bus rides will put anybody to sleep. Pardon my rudeness earlier.
My name is Randolph Carter. Pleasure to meet you maam.
And I took the liberty of getting you a cup of coffee back in Griffin. Hated to wake you. Got us some doughnuts too.
They make 'em fresh at that little place"
"Why thank you very much. You should have woke me up and I could have given you some money. I can't believe we passed Griffin already"
"Yes maam, we have covered some ground, and don't worry about the breakfast, my treat. Where are you heading, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Uh, Atlanta. Oh, Chattanooga. Going to Chattanooga I mean" she stammered. "Oh, and my name is Linda. Pleased to meet you"
"So which is it? Atlanta or Chattanooga?" Randolph asked congenially.
Oh gosh, I'm such a terrible liar. Might as well tell this man the truth. He seems nice enough, Linda thought.
"Actually Atlanta. It's a long story. Sorry, I didn't mean to be confusing"
"Now that's twice you have apologized for something that you didn't need to. Not my business anyway.
You should have just said ' Sir, that's none of your business' " he told her deadpan.
Linda looked horrified until he cracked a smile and she realized he was just having fun with her.
Then she laughed out loud and the tension she was feeling seemed to melt away.
"First time away from home?" he asked.
"How did you guess?" she answered and laughed some more.
"Going off to college maybe?" he guessed.
"Oh, I wish. I really do, but going to have to work awhile at first"
Randolph sensed her vagueness and chose not to push it. Wouldn't accomplish anything and really wasn't his business.
But he did like her and felt a need to help somehow.
"What is it you're good at? What do you think you want to specialize in?" he queried.
Linda was impressed by this question. It seemed every adult she ever talked to in Valdosta seemed more concerned about what kind of husband she was looking for.
Need to find you a good man honey. Blah, blah, blah.
"I'm really good at math. I'd like to work in a bank or something. I know it's not proper to brag, but my algebra teacher told me I was the
first girl to ever finish the year with the highest grade average since she started teaching eighteen years ago"
"It's not bragging if you can back it up, Linda. Nothing wrong with being smart. More important to know you're smart.
Lot's of lazy people in this world that have plenty of smarts and never put it to use. A shame really"
The conversation continued as they neared Atlanta, with Randolph becoming more and more impressed with Linda and her beginning to gain his trust.
As they fode into downtown Atlanta, just a few blocks from the bus depot, Randolph produced a business card from his breifcase.
It read "Randolph W. Carter", and underneath, "Attorney at Law", along with a phone number and an address on Peachtree Street.
He wote something on the back and handed her the card. He wrote Julian Carter along with a phone number.
"When you get settled in, call this number. Just tell him you're friends with his brother Randy. I'll vouch for you.
I'm not promising anything, but he might be able to offer you something.
Just be yourself, just like you were with me. Julian is a good judge of folks. If you're as good with numbers as I think you are, he will be impressed.
Maybe have some part time work to help you get through school. Like I said, not promising anything. But do yourself a favor and call him.
And you have my office number too. I wish you the best Linda. I think you will do good"
And with that, they were off the bus and Linda wondered, not for the first time, where she was going to spend her first night away from home.

 

Jacob Reed was daddy's first cousin, son of the aunt and uncle that raised him. Jake was what folks back then called a "bad seed".
Some people said he was that way on account of his parents being so ill they could never discipline him properly.
Don't know if I buy that argument. Daddy didn't turn out that way. When Daddy quit school to work to support his aunt and uncle, Jake was out and about just basically being a hooligan.
Goes back to that old nature or nurture argument I suppose.
Well Jake managed to get himself into a heap of trouble one saturday morning.
If he hadn't of been out most of the night drinking corn liquor, he might have thought his plan through a little better.
He decided he was going to rob the Piggly Wiggly store in downtown Tifton, figuring the largest grocery store in town would have the most cash on hand.
What he didn't factor in was on Friday afternoon the store manager deposits the days cash in the bank, and since the store had only been open forty minutes, there wasn't likely to be much money in the till.
Well, at nine-forty in the morning there were three cashiers, a stock boy, the store manager and six customers in the store.
That's eleven people and nine of them knew Jake on sight.
He didn't do much better on his getaway vehicle selection. Grants Feed & Seed was three blocks away.
That's where Jake climbed into old Willie Hick's pickup truck, loaded down with hundred pound bags of fertilizer, and drove to the Piggly Wiggly.
Heck, everybody in the Feed & Seed store was watching him through the big glass store window.
Nobody called the police. They were just curious as to why Jake would do such a thing, so Willie and his son began walking toward the Piggly Wiggly.
When Jake demanded that they empty the cash registers, nobody took him seriously at first. Frustrated, Jake pulled out a sorry looking .32 caliber revolver he found in his daddy's closet.
The police chief said later that the only bullet in the gun was in the middle of the cylinder and he would have had to pull the trigger three times to get to the bullet.
He also said that from the looks of the rust on that old pistol, the only one injured may have been Jake when it blew his hand off.
Josh Grady, the store manager was getting a bad vibe off of Jake. so he finally decided to go along with the robbery.
"Yall go ahead and give him the the money. I think ole Jake's been drinking. Don't need to rile him up none" Josh told the cashiers.
The total take was $11.40. Jake didn't even count it as he ran out the door.
When he got outside he saw Willie Hicks talking to the sheriff who had walked across the street from the diner where he was having coffee.
Jake had a moment of clarity where he finally saw the flaws in his plan, or his lack of planning, to be more accurate.
He decided to improvise at this point. He thought he would turn and just casually walk up the sidewalk unnoticed. That worked for about two seconds.
"Hey, ain't that Jake!" Willie said to the Sheriff.
"Dang sure is! Hey, Jake. What in tarnation are you doin boy?" the Sheriff yelled. And Jake took off running.
Wasn't much of a pursuit, and Jake was behind bars within about ten minutes.
The judge came down hard on Jake for several reasons, one of which was the fact that his niece was one of the cashiers.
Another being this was a long way from being his first offense, the most recent being the manufacture of moonshine, for which Jake served thirty days in the county jail.
It helped somewhat that Willie didn't press charges for the theft of his pickup truck and the amount of money from the robbery was so low.
What most angered the judge was the use of a firearm, although it was highly unlikely that Jake would have used it.
He sentenced Jake to a reduced charge of attempted roobery, since Mr Grady said he was happy to get his $11.40 back.
He gave Jake ten years at the Federal Penitentiary in Atlanta. Most folks figured he would do half of that but they were wrong.
Seems ole Jake had a hard time with the concept of time off for good behavior. He served a total of nine years and ten months.

 

I remember that well. He said they drank so much planning the crime that they lost track of time.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, this is a work in progress. I have more about Linda that I'm ready to put down and I have finally have some Viet-nam episodes ready that I have been wrestling with.
The sequence you see here will certainly be re-arranged somewhat. I may need some professional help with that at that point.
I have discovered several chronological errors that I have to live with for now.
That is the drawback of working in this format. Later I plan on pointing them out. Of course they will all be corrected in the final editting process.