William, Forth and Back
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About this ebook
William, Forth and Back is a new twist on the ageless quest for the
fountain of youth. Mr. Anderson at age 60 loses his home to a military
error
and is changed physically so that not even his own children recognize him.
The parallel stories of William, a boy from the hills with amazing musical
talent and Mr. Anderson's quest to be recognized by his children come
together in a surprising way in the final chapters.
The story was written for readers of all ages. There is intentionally no
offensive language or innuendo.
Jerald L Hanson
Born August 31, 1942 in Aurora, Illinois, Jerry Hanson grew up on a dairy farm in rural Yorkville, Illinois. As a teenager he worked as a printers devil for the Kendall County Record and as a teller at the Farmers State Bank. After leaving for college and four years in the U. S. Air Force, he returned to Yorkville and a job at the bank. At age fifty two he retired from the banking business with a list of things he wanted to experience. He has since studied Anthropology at Northern Illinois University, attended the J. B. Hunt truck driving school, been trained as a Harley Davidson Mechanic and written two novels. For information about other books by Jerald Hanson please visit: The Innocent Hero, William, Forth and Back and Pure Gold
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William, Forth and Back - Jerald L Hanson
WILLIAM
FORTH AND BACK
JERALD L. HANSON
This novel is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, dialogue, and plot are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
©
Copyright 2002 Jerald L. Hanson. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.
National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data
Hanson, Jerald L., 1942
William, forth and back / Jerald L. Hanson.
ISBN 1-55369-743-X I.
Title.
PS3610.E73W44 2002 813’.6 C2002-903254-7
Image302.JPGThis book was published on-demand in cooperation with Trafford Publishing.
On-demand publishing is a unique process and service of making a book available for retail sale to the public taking advantage of on-demand manufacturing and Internet marketing. On-demand publishing includes promotions, retail sales, manufacturing, order fulfilment, accounting and collecting royalties on behalf of the author.
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10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2
Contents
Chapter One Down From the Hills
Chapter Two The Tragedy
Chapter Three The Filming
Chapter Four The Big Mistake
Chapter Five The Navy
Chapter Six The Illness
Chapter Seven The Journey
Chapter Eight The Reunion
Chapter 9 Fire all the Doctors!
Chapter Ten Nashville
Chapter Eleven Transition
Chapter Twelve Back Home to Mountain View
Chapter Thirteen Family
For my family
now and future generations
Thank you to my daughter, Jennifer,
for suggesting that I write a book.
Chapter One
Down From the Hills
Springtime in Arkansas is as comfortable as any place on earth. With the harshness of winter but a memory, the pace of life slows and the aroma of moist earth and wildflower blossoms overwhelms the senses. In Mountain View, the historic village sees more visitors as the tourist season gets into full swing.
Bus loads of students arrive almost daily. Perhaps it is because the teachers are trying to leave the students with a good feeling about school by getting them outdoors for a fun learning experience.
Twelve year old, Patty Hatfield willnot soon forget her visit to the village.
The first time anyone in Mountain View remembers seeing the boy, known only as William, was on May 30th, 2002. Perched on the old farm wagon that sat on the stage in the village was a barefoot boy. He was wearing only a pair of brown bib overalls that he had nearly outgrown. They were held up by the right shoulder strap. The left strap had no buckle and had been torn or cut off. He had dark brown hair, looked to be about 10 and had no teeth. His fascinating music had first attracted their attention.
The musicians who play regularly at the village had taken a break and left their instruments, a fiddle, bass, banjo, mandolin and a couple of acoustic guitars, on their stands on the stage. When no one was looking, William had chosen a guitar, climbed to the wagon seat and begun to play. Soon passersby began to stop to listen to the unusual music. Even while watching him, it seemed that there had to be two or more people playing. The whispering began almost immediately. He’s down from the hills.
Mary and Frank had been chatting with Milton, the wood carver, as he patiently created another face in the handle of a sassafras walking stick. It looked so simple, so easy to do, as it often does when a talented and practiced artisan works his magic. Milton was late for his lunch break and it was time for Mary and Frank to meet Sally and Jody and the other guitar player, Buck, back at the stage.
As they left the wood shop, Milton asked what the crowd at the theater was all about. They were puzzled by the guitar music coming from the back of the stage, at first trying to recognize the song and then wondering who had taken their place while they were on break. As good as Buck was, there surely was at least one more guitarist playing, maybe two. Jody was a teenage boy who had won numerous clog dancing awards and Sally was an ageless woman who danced endlessly while the trio played their music. Neither played the guitar.
William had been playing for about a half hour and the crowd was growing rapidly. First it was curiosity that drew them, then they were hypnotized by the music, music they had not experienced before. A few dollars, some loose change, a gold nugget and a set of banjo style finger picks had been the sum content of William’s pockets when he first appeared in Mountain View. But now with the picks and a borrowed guitar, he was making music. His music was almost entirely original, the only exceptions this day were songs requested by the students who had crowded into the three rows of permanent seating. He played the guitar much the way a five string banjo is played.
Frank watched for a while before he noticed that his guitar was not on its stand. He was so enthralled by the music that was coming from what was apparently his own guitar, that he did not become angry and managed to stop Jody, who was about to jump on stage and take the guitar from William.
All of this did not go unnoticed by William who had been quite worried about the consequences of what he had done. He relaxed a little now, but thought thathe should soon end the show.
He had noticed a pretty young lady in the front row who seemed to be smiling at him. William had a plan. His last song was a request for Amazing Grace
and as soon as he finished playing it, he dismounted the wagon and carefully replaced the guitar on the stand, stepped off the stage and took Patty Hatfield by the hand. He ushered her through the crowd and around to the ice cream stand. With the pocket change he bought her an ice cream cone. William had never met anyone who smiled and giggled and talked so much as Patty.
The chaperone was muttering something about the mountain people stealing their daughters as she dragged Patty unceremoniously to the bus. William was relieved.
He was still staring in the direction that the woman had taken Patty when he realized that the gentle voice asking his name was that of the owner of the guitar. William didn’t say anything. He was thinking and did not want to say the wrong thing. Frank was persistent but cautious, afraid that he might frighten this talented young person who seemed so out of place. Others in the crowd were expressing their opinions in whispers loud enough for William to hear. He’s down from the hills,
They marry young ya know,
and He’s not gettin near my daughter.
William finally puckered his lips a time or two and said Weeum.
Frank seemed relieved, that’s what your momma calls you?
William?
Weeum!
and for months, no one in Mountain View heard him utter another word.
Frank asked William to come back to the theater and show him how he played his music. The crowd had disappeared now and only a few curious folks were at the stage. William stared at the sheet music Buck put in front of him as if it were an empty grocery bag.
How does he learn?
Frank said, half to himself. William, trying to understand just what was expected of him, played Wildwood Flower. Someone had requested it earlier and he wanted to please these nice folks who didn’t seem at all angry that he had used their guitar. Buck thought for a while and then played a bluegrass song.
When he was finished he turned to William and said, Can you play that?
William sat up straight, as was his way, and looking into the distance, played the song, note for note, as if he had just recorded it. Frank was the one who noticed that William’s fingering and fret positions were not consistently the same as Buck’s. William was recreating the sound. He wasn’t watching, only listening. After repeating this phenomenon with two more songs, William was getting noticeably nervous, so Frank took him over to the village kitchen and bought him a hamburger and fries. After the meal, William headed in the direction of the restrooms and disappeared.
The next morning, May 31st, arrived with a chill in the air, but by 10:00 a.m. it was another perfect spring day in Mountain View. The foliage was already thick and it seemed that everything that could possibly blossom was trying to out do every other blooming thing. To William it was akin to being downwind of a perfume factory. It was impossible to be unhappy. For some time he had been struggling with the future. He had no idea what to do with the rest of his life ... until yesterday. Yesterday he found that people like to listen to his music. He learned that people like to be entertained, that they even like a little good natured drama with their entertainment. He would be an entertainer. The best entertainer that he could be. If they wanted a mountain boy, that’s what he would give them.
The trio was playing again in the village, but to a bigger crowd. It was Friday, the last day of May and an indication of what was to come. More schools are out for the summer and for some of the lucky ones, family vacations have already begun. Frank was surprised to see William, looking bashful and trying to blend in with the crowd. He would disappear for a while and then reappear, visiting the shops and biding his time until the trio would take their break. Martha, the gentle lady sitting behind a quilting frame, observed the barefoot boy who seemed so interested in the displays. He looked at her and then at a magazine cover on one of the tables.