Love Knows No Color Pt. 23

I haven't posted a new story in a while. We have been preoccupied with other things lately. As I write this and submit this story, we are in the midst of getting ready for our big day. That's right, in a couple of hours I will wed my queen, 18 years, 1 month and 10 days after our first date. Our life hasn't always been easy, but it has been worth it. The thoughts and feelings Jason expresses toward Shavonda are my own toward my queen. In essence, this story has been about an idealized version of the woman who I cannot imagine life without.

This chapter will end the tranquil part of their marriage. From here the story will take a darker turn as events will force them to make some hard decisions.

*

I awoke in the morning to an empty bed. Shavonda and the baby had gone downstairs, so I followed the smell of breakfast. I found them in the kitchen with Mom and Grandma. Shavonda was busy at the stove making eggs with Mom. Rather than comb out her hair this morning, she'd wrapped it in a headscarf, making me hungry for pancakes. Grandma was busy holding and cooing at Miracle. Yep, Grandma was smitten with our triracial child, just like I knew she would be. Miracle had learned a new word, "Nana." It was appropriate as that was how Shavonda's family referred to grandmothers in general. Miracle was laughing as she said the word over and over.

"Where's Brittany and Ethan?" I asked.

"They're still asleep," Mom replied. "Please, don't wake them. They had a busy day yesterday. Sally came by and took them swimming down at the creek."

I smiled. The woman who didn't want kids was playing parent to mine. How ironic was that? I was glad that they had something fun to do while we were away. We were going to have to do something fun for them during our stay here, but what? Then it occurred to me......

"Von," I said, "We need to take a day off here and do something fun with the kids. Are you claustrophobic?"

"No," Shavonda eyed me suspiciously. "What did you have in mind?"

"There is a cave not too far away, Organ Cave. We can also show the kids where I went to school, it's not too far out of the way. And on the way home, we can have lunch at Doug Horton's diner." I felt proud of myself. I knew the kids would remember the cave years later. It was something adventurous but safe. The normal things you'd do with kids, go to an amusement park or something similar, was not an option here. We were too far back in the mountains for that.

"It sounds wonderful," Mom said. "When do you plan on going?"

"I was thinking Friday," I replied. "Tonight, we are going camping with the kids, so we won't be here until tomorrow morning. I'd like to get an early start so tomorrow's out. Saturday will be our last full day here so I'd kinda like to stay here and relax."

"A cave?" Shavonda looked at me wide eyed. "I've never been in one. Is it safe?"

"As safe as it can be. They have guided tours so we'll be with people who know what they're doing. They won't let us get lost or go into any dangerous areas."

"well.....Ok. Have you been there before?"

"Once, on a school field trip. It was a tight fit in some spots, but it was spectacular once you got into the big room. Lots of interesting stalactites. The biggest formation resembled a pipe organ, thus the name for the cave. They had the place wired for lights, so you were never in the dark. The whole area is underlain with limestone, which dissolves in water. So, there are miles of cave in addition to the small part they give tours of." I was trying my best to sell a dubious Shavonda on the idea. I could tell she had reservations about going in a cave, but I was sure she and the kids would love it.

Shavonda had finished cooking, and she sat down to eat. Eggs and pancakes were something of a tradition when we were here, eaten in the kitchen in a big family breakfast. I always enjoyed these times. With both of us working, and my extra early start times, we rarely had a nice family breakfast at home. Outside of the weekends, it just wasn't possible. I am sure Shavonda whipped up something for the kids during the week, but mostly they just ate cereal. I, on the other hand, usually grabbed a couple of donuts at a truck stop when I refueled.

I watched as my wife teased me as she ate, taking each bite as sensually as she could. She knew what this did to me, and she playfully teased me. Mom noticed our little interaction. "You two are just plain nasty," she laughed.

"No, Mom," I said. "I'm nasty. She's just insatiable." Shavonda looked at us with innocent eyes, as if to say, 'who, me?' She smiled sweetly, then went back to her teasing. "Just be glad you don't have fruit out."

"What?" Shavonda said with a smile. "I'm not supposed to enjoy breakfast with my husband?" I always enjoyed when her playful side came out. Shavonda was comfortable here, and it showed in her easy mannerisms. She'd become such an integral part of the family that if she ever decided not to come visit them with me, I'd better have a good explanation. They'd rip my ass to shreds if Shavonda didn't come because we were fighting. Mom and Dad loved her that much. After the kids awoke and ate breakfast, we loaded them in the Jeep and went to town for groceries. While I was sure Mom had most of the items we needed for our campout on hand, I knew she didn't have ice for the coolers. So we bought ice, and the rest of the supplies we needed. While we were there we met Officer Brodie. He showed the kids the police car, and even took them for a short ride around the parking lot.

Back at the farmhouse we relaxed while the kids told Mom and Grandma all about their ride in the police car. It was obvious they were thrilled. Shavonda, meanwhile, redid her hair, taking the braids out and restraightening it with her flat iron. She then brushed it out until she had it the way she wanted. I played with the baby as I watched her. Seeing her do simple things like her hair fascinated me. I just liked to watch her move as she took care of even the most mundane tasks.

In late afternoon, as the trains started to hit the mountain, we packed the Liberty and hit the road. Arriving at KR, our first task was to set up the tent and gather firewood. There were plenty of old railroad tie butts laying around, but the chemicals used as preservatives in the wood made for a smoky fire so we didn't use them. Instead, we scoured the surrounding forest for small branches, and logs that we could carry or drag back to the campsite. Shavonda and I took turns watching Miracle, while the other one gathered firewood with the kids.

After we had enough wood, we lit the fire. Since the kids wanted mountain pies, that's what we had for dinner. I carefully showed them how to butter the bread on one side, then place it butter side down in the sandwich iron. We then added pizza sauce, cheese and pepperoni before adding another slice of buttered bread. With the ingredients ready, we clamped them shut in the iron, and put it into the fire to cook. The first one, being the test pie, came out a little burnt. That was to be expected: we could only guess how hot the fire was until we cooked something. After that, the rest of them came out good, and we ate our fill of them.

The trains were coming thick and fast, the west bounds popping out of the tunnel with little warning, grinding past us at full throttle while the east bounds could be heard for miles clawing their way to the summit where we were. We were still cooking pies when the van showed up. It was a railroad jitney, used to shuttle train crews around. We talked to the crew on board, and even made them each a pie.

It turns out they were a dogcatcher crew. The dogs were trains whose crews ran out of time under the federal 12 hour rule. By law, once they hit 12 hours on duty they were no longer allowed to move the train and were considered a dead crew. So, the railroad called a dogcatcher crew to come out and relieve them of duty. The train dispatcher, being in radio contact with both crews, would set a meeting point where the dogcatcher would take over the train, and the dead crew would ride the van to a motel near Wolf Creek yard foot their rest.

Tonight, one of the intermodal trains, 13, had been delayed and was running out of time. KR was chosen for the crew change, thus the van showing up where we were. The dogcatcher crew was friendly, and they hung out with us for the half hour or so it took for their train to arrive. We watched as the train blasted out of the tunnel, then slowed to a halt right in front of us. The old crew got off the locomotive, and chatted for a couple minutes with our new friends, before stowing their grips in the van and taking off. Our friends meanwhile had climbed aboard the locomotives. Soon they were ready to go, and throttled up enough to get the train, most of which was still on the upgrade, moving. Once they had most of it over the top, they throttled back and went into dynamic braking for the long descent to Norcross. The train was relatively lightweight, and didn't need helper locomotives on the rear. It was a good thing, because the rear of the train had been in the tunnel, and the helper crew would have been stuck there, breathing smoke and fumes, while the crew change took place.

This had all occurred during a bit of a lull in the traffic, and we were able to listen to them whining away in the distance as darkness fell around us.

The kids were fine until it got dark. Then Ethan asked, "Are there bears in the woods?"

"Yes," I answered, watching his eyes grow wide. "They live all around here."

"Will they eat us?" Ethan whimpered, suddenly afraid.

"No," I replied. "You'll be safe in the tent with us. They don't want to eat you, but they will look for food. So, we have to put it in the car, not the tent. They can't get it there."

"I don't want to sleep in the tent," Brittany, who'd been silent up to this point, chimed in. "I want to sleep in the car where the bears won't get us."

Try as we might, we couldn't convince the kids it was safe to sleep in the tent with us. So we put the coolers in the front seats, Brittany in the back seat, and Ethan curled up in the back of the Jeep. Their worries eased, they were soon fast asleep.

The train, however, kept on coming. Between the time we arrived shortly before 6pm, and the time things finally died down around midnight, I counted 23 trains. It was a busy evening, and now I understood why it seemed back at the farmhouse all we heard at night were trains. After the last westbound, Shavonda and I lay out on a blanket listening to it fade away in the distance as we gazed up at the star filled sky.

"Next time we do this," Shavonda said dreamily, "we have to bring a telescope." She snuggled against me, contented. "And we will do this again. I am enjoying this. It's so peaceful up here."

Off in the distance, we became aware of the sound of yet another eastbound train climbing the mountain. We lay there, under the stars, kissing in the dim light of the dying fire as the rumble slowly got louder. Finally, the headlight lit up the trees around the distant curve, the glow growing brighter until finally the headlight poked around the curve and the train slowly ground its way to us. An endless procession of coal cars slowly clanked past in the dark before the helper locomotives rumbled past, already in dynamic for the descent to Waiteville. Swallowed up by the tunnel, the train faded away into the night, and quiet reigned on the mountain once more. We turned in for the night, joining an already sleeping Miracle in the tent. Much as we wanted to make love, we fell asleep in each other's arms before things could really get started.

Later, we were awakened by a heavy westbound train. I sat up, looking out of the tent, watching the headlight glowing in the tunnel as it slowly growled nearer. Emerging from the tunnel in a cacophony of sound, it illuminated our tent and the Jeep parked beside it. Shavonda rested her head on my shoulder as her arms snaked around from behind me. We watched the silhouette of Ethan's head pop up in the back of the Liberty. The train had awakened him too. Six hard working diesels blasted past, followed by a seemingly endless procession of empty coal cars that clattered and squeaked past in the dark.

The train had disturbed Miracle, who was fussing in the carrier where we'd laid her. I picked her up and rocked her gently, trying to soothe her, but she was having none of it. Her diaper seemed fresh, so I knew she didn't need changed. I handed her off to Shavonda, who held the baby to her breast. That was it. She was hungry. The tent was filled with the sucking sounds of Miracle breastfeeding. "Oww," Shavonda exclaimed painfully. "Lil Mama just bit me."

"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" I asked. It was worth a try.

"Matter of fact I do," Shavonda purred sexily. She switched the baby to her other arm, and pushed her injured breast in my face. I kissed the sore nipple, not being able to resist sucking on it as it flooded my mouth with her sweet milk. Miracle let out a howl that would wake the dead. "I think she's jealous," Shavonda laughed. "But you were only supposed to kiss it, not suck on it. Better enjoy it while you can, because if she starts biting me every time I'll start her on formula."

I understood her dilemma. She had wanted to breast feed Miracle up until her first birthday, then wean her off the titty milk. But if the baby was going to destroy her nipples, Shavonda was going to wean her earlier.

I awoke in the morning light, with the birds singing all around us, my head on Shavonda's belly. Rising, I fell in love with her all over again, for about the thousandth time since we'd met. She lay on her back, clad only in panties. Miracle lay sleeping on her right breast, her left one was exposed, waiting for my attention. Her hair lay wildly on the pillow. I wanted nothing so much as to bury my morning wood deep inside her, to hear her wake moaning my name. Instead, I quietly dressed and went to the car to make breakfast.

Quietly opening the doors to the Jeep, I rolled the windows down so the kids could sleep in. With the sun up, it would get hot in the car quickly. Removing the cooler and the portable grill from the front seats where we'd stashed them last night, I quietly lit the charcoal and went to check on the kids. Ethan was stirring in the back, so I opened the rear hatch. "I saw you watching that train last night," I said softly.

He looked at me, apprehension in his eyes. "Am I in trouble?" he asked, voice quivering.

"No," I said. " It was loud, and we're here to see trains anyway. But I am glad you got to see it." I helped him out of the car. "Wanna help me make breakfast?" I asked. He nodded.

While we waited for the charcoal to heat up, we mixed up a bowl of pancake batter and oiled the skillet. When everything was ready, I let Ethan spoon the batter into the skillet, then taught him how to watch the bubbles in the batter to tell when to turn the pancake. He did very well, considering his age, and we soon had a stack waiting on a plate for everybody to wake up. Done with the pancakes, I showed him how to scramble eggs and cook them. Ethan was a quick learner. Once we were done, I sent him off to wake his sister, while I woke Shavonda.

"Morning, boo," I said, planting a kiss on her lips. "You look beautiful this morning."

"You gotta be kidding," she said. "My hair is a mess."

"But it's a beautiful mess. Don't you realize that to me you're beautiful all the time? By the way, breakfast is ready. Your son did most of the work, so tell him how good he did."

"Ethan cooked?" Shavonda was incredulous. "Why Ethan, Why not Brittany?"

"Ethan was awake, Brittany was not. I let everybody sleep until we were done."

We all sat in our folding chairs, eating pancakes and eggs and drinking Shavonda's special Koolaid as the sun rose higher in the sky. It was one of those crystal-clear mornings when the colors were brilliant. Shavonda and I sat there, enjoying breakfast in a beautiful spot in the forest with our family. She'd taken to camping well, and the kids were having a blast. I let them run, warning them not to go on the tracks. The signal had turned green over red. We had a train lined up eastbound.

Soon we could hear it off in the distance, grinding its way slowly towards us. One of the nice things about sitting right at the railroad's summit was that any train coming at us would be working hard. The tunnel and mountain over it prevented us from getting much warning of west bounds, but the east bounds could be heard for miles. We hadn't had a train in either direction for hours, the last westbound had been the one which awakened us in the middle of the night, and the last eastbound had been the one around 1am, that we'd listened to climbing the mountains while gazing at the stars.

Shavonda would often talk about this particular trip, and gazing at the stars, as being one of the most romantic things she'd ever done. I didn't quite see where she got that from, but it was an experience I had fond memories as well. She explained that being there with me in the middle of the night made her feel close to me. She'd unlocked another part of my childhood up on that mountain. In our childhood, Kenny and I had often camped here when we felt like making the effort to climb the mountain on our bikes. We'd also had a camping spot near Ray Tunnel, that was much closer to home and easier to get to. But this was the special spot.

We broke camp as the eastbound coal train ground past us, slowly picking up speed as more and more of the train crested the summit and descended into the dark tunnel. We had the tent down before the helper locomotives whined past, already in full dynamic trying to hold the heavy train back. It was about seven winding miles before the tracks levelled out below Waiteville, and speed had to be kept under control due to curvature until at least Ray, lest the train wind up all over the mountainside. After the train passed, I disposed of the hot coals in the water filled drainage ditch on the far side of the tracks. Ethan followed me, laughing as the hot coals hissed as they hit the water.

With the car packed up, we made our way back down the mountain road to the farm. Mom greeted us as we arrived. "You got invited to dinner over at Grandpap Duncan's place. He called last night after you'd left." Shavonda looked at me with a huge smile, eyes sparkling with joy. She'd won him over.

Mom also mentioned that she'd washed our clothes for us while we were gone. She gave Shavonda a funny look. Shavonda hurriedly headed up to our room, with me behind her wondering what was going on. In the room, she looked in our duffel bag, saying "Shit!" I asked her what was wrong. "Your Mom found BJ!"

Bj? Who or what was BJ? "My vibrator. Battery Jason. A girl's got needs and sometimes you're asleep." Shavonda explained. I told her I wasn't offended. As a matter of fact, if I'd have known that she had a vibrator, I'd have incorporated it into our play. After all, we'd had so much fun with the finger vibrator before.

"No, Jason," Shavonda said, reading my mind. "Maybe tonight. But not right now. Besides, you wouldn't want to play with this now. We need to shower first. I'm all sweaty."

We took a shower together. The water felt refreshing, and we enjoyed sliding against each other, the soap providing a natural lubricant on our slick bodies. I didn't take it all the way, though. We'd save that for later. After we were done and dressed in clean clothing we went downstairs. I wore my usual black jeans and t shirt, while Shavonda wore a pair of shorts and a pink sleeveless top that glowed against her dark skin and also showed just a hint of cleavage.

We made the kids take showers as well, then Shavonda played checkers with Brittany while I played my bass guitar. Ethan, as he'd done a lot lately, sat and watched me play. I think we had a budding musician here. I'd noticed he also seemed fascinated lately by the music we listened to as well.