The Saga of Bass and Sarah Vol. 01

I felt sick listening to him. My stomach was tied in knots, I asked, "You said you weren't the first."

"Bass I don't know how else to say it, your wife fucks around."

I asked, "You got any names?"

He looked at the sea chest, "Vernon for one..."

I was struck dumb, "Abernathy? Vernon Abernathy?"

Rath added, "Yeah and I'm pretty sure your supervisor. What's his name? Lawton Childs."

I was going to have to quit my job. I felt like such a fool, "How did you find this out?"

He kept looking around the room. Before he could answer me I asked, "You're not lying are you?"

He got right in my face, "No I'm not lying. Beatrice told me. She said she overheard it from that woman your wife works with."

"You mean Nellie Billingsworth?"

"Yeah she was talking to someone at the last get together at the Fire Hall. Nellie was talking to somebody about how your wife used one of the private rooms at the Visitor Center to 'get off' with a couple of regulars. That's when this woman mentioned Vernon and the guy Childs."

I was crushed. My wife was a fucking whore, "Anybody else," I asked?

Rath gave me a straight, and I thought an honest appraisal, "That's all I know. Look Bass its Sarah; I think she's sick. I mean in the head sick. I don't want to make this worse for you, but us doing it was like nothing. I mean it was more about the talking. Sure we fucked, but we could've been having a coffee and eating donuts. It was that 'matter of fact'. You want to know what we talked about?"

I didn't, but still, "No what did you and my wife talk about while you two were fucking?"

"Well while we fucked nothing, but before and after I made up shit about Beatrice, but I don't think she heard me. Then when she talked all she wanted to talk about was you. Christ it didn't make any sense. That was when I figured she was fucked up. I mean there she was betraying you in the worst way while she was bragging about how great a dad and husband you were. Bass the woman needs help."

I was fed up, "So you're telling me I should help Sarah get counseling because she's been fucking everybody within a twenty mile radius for the past eight years of our marriage."

He shook his head, "I didn't say that. I said she's fucked up. I didn't say it's been eight years either. I don't know how long it's been, but not eight years. There was a guy who stopped in at my work. He said some things. I don't remember what."

I was numb; a guy at his work? My head was starting to hurt again, "Well thanks Rath," but I thought, 'Yeah thanks for nothing.'

He asked, "What are you going to do about the house?"

Shit, the bastard's a mercenary son-of-a-bitch, "I'll let you know."

He took the gun, the watch, and the chest and left, and he left me with more trouble than before. Now I had fellow employees and my boss fucking my wife. I could get them. We had morals regulations. Of course, I'd have to prove everything, and the more I worked at that the worse it would be for me and my kids. I had to do some digging. I sat there in my dad's chair and wondered why I didn't feel something. Shouldn't I be crying or something? Shouldn't I be all pissed off and figuring out how to kill my wife and my 'so called' colleagues? I just didn't feel anything. For two cents I thought I might as well just get in my car and drive away. That didn't last; I had children. I could never leave them. I was their dad. No matter what; I was their dad.

I opened my cell phone and called the Visitor Center. It was a Friday. Nellie should be there. She was; she picked up on the first ring, "Hello Nellie?"

I could almost feel her hesitancy over the phone, "Hi Bass. Gee I'm sorry about your mom and dad. If there's anything I can do..."

"There is. Can I come see you?"

"Well sure, when did you want to come?"

I answered, "How about right now?"

"Uh...well...I'm...you know..."

"It's important Nellie."

"Well OK."

After a short bout with a tie up caused by road work I got to the Visitor Center. I went in and Nellie was at the counter. She didn't seem to be busy. I walked over, "You know why I'm here."

"Sarah called earlier. You shouldn't worry, we'll cover for her."

"That's not why I'm here."

Nellie looked confused, "Then why are you here?"

"I caught Sarah in bed with my brother yesterday. The Visitor's Center, and your name came up. Can you help me?"

Nellie looked worried, maybe scared a little, "Look I need this job. My husband's out of work, and we have four kids."

I told her, "I'm not after you. I'm not after anybody. I only want the truth. What's Sarah been doing while I've been at work?"

"Look," she said, "I'm on lunch break in a few minutes. We could go outside and talk there."

"OK, I'll wait," I answered.

About fifteen minutes later we were both outside, I asked again, "Tell me about my wife."

Nellie started, "Well I know she loves you very much, she loved your mom and dad, and she's very proud of her children. Oh Bass don't make me say things."

"Nellie I need to know."

"Bass Sarah's a good woman. Deep inside she's really good. Maybe a little immature sometimes, but she's not a bad person. I know she loves you very much. You and the kids are her whole life. You're all she talks about."

"Tell me about the men," I waited.

"Oh...well...you see...Bass it wasn't like her...not the real..."

"Nellie please.'

"OK, well you see. Every now and then someone might show up, someone who, I don't know, someone Sarah might...fancy. No I don't mean fancy, not in the way...Bass it wasn't serious. It was never serious. She'd just...just...she'd get flirtatious...silly. They'd come on to her. She'd ask to take a break. They'd go back in one of the offices. Maybe ten minutes later, never longer than ten maybe fifteen minutes, and she'd be back out. I don't know what they did. Honest, I never snooped. I never asked. She'd be all excited, acting foolish, not normal, then she'd come back out and be her old normal self again."

"This happened many times?"

"A few, not a lot."

"Anybody in particular?"

"No not really. There was one..."

"Who?"

"A guy from Louisville I think. He'd come by every couple weeks. He'd ask if Sarah was working. If she was due in he'd wait around. If she was off he'd leave."

"What did they do?"

"Oh the same; back in an empty office, ten minutes maybe, then he'd leave."

"You know his name?"

"Sean or Shawn something; that's all I know. Sarah knows."

"Anything else?"

"No Bass! Don't tell her I told you, and Bass?"

"Yeah Nellie."

"She loves you. I can't explain why...all this..., but I know she just adores you. She worships you."

"Tell me Nellie. Did you ever try and stop her. Did you ever warn her I might find out? Did you ever remind her she had a husband and a family?"

Nellie just looked at me, "...no..."

"Thanks Nellie," I left.

~~v~~

I stopped off at a nearby Denny's. Talk about reliable; now that's the place. I sat in a booth and stirred my second cup of coffee. I'd had two fried eggs over medium. I checked my watch, 2:30. What, maybe thirty hours? Every time I turned around things got worse. I thought, 'What else could go wrong?' My kids! No! My kids were mine. They had to be. I knew I had to make sure. I would get some hair follicles. I'd send off. I'd make sure. God, Jesus, I was getting paranoid. I finished my coffee, left a tip, got in my car and started back home.

~~v~~

Late that afternoon I took my girls and my wife out for a late lunch early dinner whatever. We'd had a brief discussion and a little vote, the Red Lobster won. It wasn't my favorite place. I would have preferred the Olive Garden, but this wasn't my decision. While we were there Sarah and I had an enlightening little experience. Right in the middle of dinner Emma volunteered a comment, something most parents with more than two kids have certainly at one time or another heard.

Little Emma looked at me and Sarah and said, "We were at school this week and my friend Jolene said she was sorry for me because I was the middle child and she knew I was always going to not be paid attention to, then Emma turned to me and asked, "Daddy am I the middle child?"

I answered, "Yes sweetie you are."

Then she asked, "Am I always going to be left out because I'm the middle. Do you love me as much as you love Emily and Elizabeth?"

I was surprised. What a question. I noticed Emily and even Elizabeth were watching; they were listening to every word. I reached around the table, pulled her on my lap and said, "Emma you're my middle child, my middle girl. You know what that means? It means you're right in the middle, right here, "I thumped my chest where my heart was, "You're right in the middle of my heart. You're right at the center, right where you belong."

She put her arms around me, kissed me, and said, "I love you daddy."

I felt so good. Then she said, "Can we go to Chucky Cheese next time?"

I laughed. Sarah laughed too, and I said, "Next time it's Chucky Cheese!" I thought how scary this was; my wife was an unfaithful whore, but I, no we, had these three perfect little people. Talk about being in the middle.

We got home, and persuaded the girls to use the living room as a camp site. We got out a couple blankets and made up a pretend tent. While they watched 'Frozen' for the umpteenth time I got Sarah to sit down at the kitchen table. She didn't want to; she really wanted to hide in the living room with the girls.

I got her in a chair and said, "Tell me about Vernon Abernathy." I watched her go into action. I swear two days ago I'd have believed anything she said. Now I just didn't know.

She was holding a cup of tea, 'Tension Tamer,' when she started, "Well...he's your paramedic partner, a friend of ours, and...someone who you're..."

I stopped her, "What is he to you?"

She took a sip of tea. She used her napkin to wipe some nonexistent fluid from the table, "He's my friend too."

"How close a friend Sarah?"

She was rattled; I could see it. She put her tea down, she dropped her head in her hands and then dropped her head and hands to the table, "Bass...I..."

"What about Lawton Childs. Is he a friend of yours too?"

She looked back up. She was white as a sheet. She had that look of someone about to go over a cliff, "It's not what you think...it wasn't..."

"I asked, "When? How many times?"

"With Vernon or Lawton?"

I said, "Let's go with Lawton."

"It didn't mean anything. It was just..."

"Sex, I know, I said, "now when and how many times?"

"Just once, just one time Bass. You remember last winter...it was after Valentine's Day...and...we were going out and you needed something to wear. You were on a run. I came over in the afternoon with your clothes. Mr. Childs was in your office, and..."

"You fucked him."

Dropping her head on her hands, her hands flat, palms down on the table, she nodded her head.

"Any other times?"

Head still down she shook her head sideways. I could barely hear her, "No just that one time."

"What about my best friend Vernon?"

She sat back up. She squirmed and fidgeted. She looked to the left out the window, then right toward the hallway. She wouldn't look at me, she mumbled, she was almost inaudible, "It was only twice."

"When, where?" I asked.

"Both times, here; he came to our house with some things, reports you needed," she sighed, "you were...at work, and he was in a hurry so he stopped them off."

I asked, "How did it happen?"

Real fast, nervously, she replied, "When, with Vernon?"

I replied, "Yes with Vernon."

Deep breath, she took a deep breath, "Oh he came over. It was around 11:00. I made some coffee and we talked about...you know...your work. He said you were really stressed and needed some time off. The next thing I knew he was kissing me. He told me...things...then we...I really had..."

"Where Sarah?"

She started to cry, breathing heavy, gasping for air, she whispered, "Here on the table."

"Both times?"

Dully she nodded her head, "Uh huh. The second time we never even talked. We just...then we agreed we should stop."

I sat back. I thought, 'Oh fuck', then I said, "So you fucked my boss once in my office, and you fucked my best friend twice here in our kitchen on this table."

She looked genuinely confused, biting her lower lip with her teeth she sniveled, "Bass it wasn't like that. It wasn't what...oh."

I felt dead, like a dead man, "Like what? Did they stick their dicks in you? Did you spread your legs and let them put their dicks in your cunt?"

Shaking her head back and forth in what looked to me like self-denial she expostulated, "Yes but it wasn't anything...it...I can't...it just."

She and I weren't on the same planet. I said, "It wasn't anything." I drummed my fingers on the table several times, "Oh but it was something. Do you know what it was?"

She groaned, "I'm sorry."

I said, "Sarah it was something, just a little something; it was murder. You murdered our marriage. You murdered me. You murdered our life together. That's all, nothing really."

She was weeping and twisting her hands together, it looked like her wrists, fingers, and palms were getting tangled up, "I'm sorry honey. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just kind of did. I had no...you wouldn't understand...," she hiccoughed and wiped the tears from her right eye with the back of her right hand.

Then both of us looked around and saw three little girls, eyes wide, mouths open, looking at us. Usually it's Emily, but she was holding Elizabeth. This time it was Emma, "Why are you crying mommy? Are you crying because of grandmommy and granddaddy?"

I got up and walked to my girls. I took Emma and lifted her up, "That and some other things," I led them back in the living room. Then I went back to the kitchen. I looked at Sarah, "I saw Nellie today too. Want to tell me about Shawn? She said there were other men too. Care to tell me how many?" I could tell she wasn't listening.

Sarah pleadingly looked up at me, "Can we go to bed now?"

I felt like a condemned man, lifeless, listless, lost, "You go to bed. I'm sleeping down here tonight."

She wasn't crying, but tears were flooding down her cheeks, "What will you do?"

"We have a viewing tomorrow evening and one Sunday afternoon. The funeral's Monday. I suppose I'll be doing that. I'll be at my parent's most of the rest of the time going over some paperwork."

She asked, "I mean about us?"

I ignored her stupid question, "Nellie said Shawn lives in Louisville. You know his last name?

She nodded her head.

"I'll be seeing Beatrice too."

She pulled herself up and said, "Have you said anything about us."

I replied, "No I haven't?"

She put her head back in her hands; elbows resting back on the table, she just muttered, "Oh I wish...Oh if I could take it all back...make it never happen...my life," she looked up again, "Oh Bass...you won't leave me. Promise you won't leave me..."

She didn't get it; she'd already left me, "Go to bed Sarah. You put the girls to bed tonight. I think I'll run back over to mom and dad's place for a while."

She got up and started toward me, "Promise me. Promise you won't leave me."

"Take care of the girls. Tell them I'll be back later to look in. I will be back later tonight." I got my car keys, waved into the living room, "Be back in a jiff! Listen to mommy," I left for my parents again.

I was so tired. All I wanted to do was go someplace and go to sleep. I wanted this nightmare to end. I wanted to be able to just wake up and have none of it be there. Of course, that wasn't to be. Worse was yet to come.

This is the end of part four.

~~~v~~~

The Saga of Bass and Sarah, Part Five:

I drove back to my parents. When I got there I sifted around through their closets and found a ton of papers. Most of them were old income tax forms, old letters, my dad's old Honorable Discharge, mom's credentials, boxes of discarded junk and pictures. I stacked everything as neatly as I could.

I also got out the cardboard box and looked through the pile of papers that had been in dad's old sea chest. Most of the stuff was junk, sentimental junk, but junk none the less. I thought I might hold on to some of it and make a scrapbook for my kids to see when they got older. I did find two mailing folders that looked kind of interesting; one was labelled Margaret and the other was marked Rathbone.

Jesus was I tired, but I didn't want to go home, not yet, and I knew I'd need to go through all this crap eventually. I thought, 'Now's as good a time as any.' I was curious anyway. I picked up the mail envelope marked Margaret. I opened it.

What I found in that envelope proved to be the start of something as crushing as anything that had happened so far. First, some time ago, it looked when I was maybe two years old my mom had been in a clinic and had a procedure done; the procedure was what they call in the vernacular a 'dusting and cleaning.' Actually the record I was holding indicated my mom had been diagnosed with endometriosis, and her solution had been a partial hysterectomy. Not really a D&C and I supposed that in itself meant nothing, but the pages underneath revealed something more telling. My mom had also had another procedure done shortly before her visit to the clinic; she'd been tested for pregnancy, and as an 'old time' exclamation point, the rabbit had indeed died. My mom's procedure had been an abortion!

Now my mom and dad were religious people, and I knew they had strong feelings about abortion. They'd been vehemently opposed to such a thing. Why had they had one performed? There was certainly no indication of any threat to my mom's health. This was strictly a voluntary decision, and a decision they'd both had to have participated in. It had to have been mutual; otherwise why would my dad have the records?

Of course I could be wrong; maybe there was a threat to my mom's health, and maybe my dad didn't know until after the procedure had been performed. But my mom and dad had always been so open with each other. All my life every important decision they'd ever made had been accomplished jointly. Surely something as big as the termination of an unborn life would have required some discussion. My dad must have known. Of course he knew, he'd kept the records! Gee, they were dead; whatever had happened, the pregnancy, the abortion, what they discussed, that whole story, no one would ever know.

I turned to the second envelope; the one mark Rathbone. I opened it. This envelope was far larger, and much heavier.

Rath had served in the Army National Guard. During the years after the 2003 invasion of Iraq he'd been called up. I'd been called up too, later, but my mom knew people and had wangled me out of actively serving. Rath however, had gone.

I'd always been told Rath had gone and served with distinction, that he'd earned a Bronze Star. As I perused the paperwork in this folder I saw none of that was true. Rath had indeed been called, but he apparently couldn't handle the strain; he'd been given a general discharge, a medical release. Rath's military history, a history told to me by a proud dad, had been a complete fraud. The time he'd supposedly spent in Iraq had actually been time he'd served as a patient at Martin's Army Hospital at Fort Benning, Georgia. This was harrowing news, but worse followed.

Beneath Rath's army papers I found two sets of DNA papers; one was mine, the other Rath's. Mine was simple and forthright. I was my father's son. Rath's was different. Rath's DNA results indicated my dad wasn't his dad.

I was tired and overwrought so it didn't hit me right away. Then it did. Rath was only my half-brother. We had different fathers. That meant only one thing; my mom had been unfaithful. She'd had sex, maybe even a full blown affair with another man. Whatever it was the next few papers revealed so much more.