“If the two of them get married or I find the two of them together, I’ll kill the both of them.” It was the week before Thanksgiving, 1979, when a shaky-voiced Juanita called to pass along her father’s plans for us. At least that is what she overheard him telling her brother.

   “He’s just saying that, right?”

   “Maybe, but we need to take this seriously—he has a gun in a safe at home,” she said, a tremble of fear in her voice.

   “But he wouldn’t really do that, would he?” No way, I thought.

   “You don’t know my father. He has a very angry nature. There are things he’s done that…well, things I can’t tell you about. But believe me, he is perfectly capable of it.”

   “So what are we going to do?” I asked, my disbelief finally fading.

   “I don’t know. I just want you to be careful. He might be following me.”

   “Well, maybe you shouldn’t come here to my place for a while.”

   “We could still see each other at activities,” she added, hopefully.

   “Unless he followed you. What kind of car does he drive?”“A ’78 Caprice wagon. It’s black.”“OK. Let’s lay low for a few days, just to be safe. We need to think about this.”

   "We need to chant about it!"

   "Uh, yeah, I guess so."  

Copyright © 2007 by John Maberry