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Our drama continoooos....
   In our last episode,Dave and Mona have retrieved Theresa's baby from the clinic where she abandoned it and fled for parts unknown. They took the baby home and pondered what to do with the little tyke. They would not entertain the thought of giving the baby up for adoption as the idea of someone outside the family raising their grandchild was unthinkable. Blood was blood, family was family and, no matter how you felt about it, you took care of your own. They called all their other children together. All of them (except Uncle Ray who was only about 14 at the time and still living at home) had married and had kids of their own. Dave had decreed that one of them would take Theresa's forsaken infant.  A word about my grandfather. In the town of Elkpoop, and in the county of Deerbutt in general, my grandfather was a man of a good deal of influence. He owned a shitload of land in the area and it was said that one couldn't build an outhouse without him knowing about it. He was a mean, ill tempered, bigoted, controlling asshole. And everyone, except Grandma, always knuckled under. Rumor had it that people who went against him would jolly well wish they hadn't. I believe it, too. What a little prick he was. But I digress. Exactly how they arrived at the decision on who was to take me as their very own no one ever said. Maybe they cut cards, or drew straws, or picked names from a hat or did "rock, paper, scissors". In the end, the dubious honor went to Theresa's younger sister Loretta and her husband Fred Whoozits who already had children of their own.  Loretta and Fred took their new bundle of joy and moved to Devil's Asshole West by God...a town about 50 miles west of Crackerburg. A town in which no one knew them or the family. They had strict orders to keep the circumstances of the baby's birth secret and that she must be in every way, to the outside world anyway, as their own child. So, Fred and Loretta took me to be baptised at Our Lady of Perpetual Whining and palmed me off as  their own. They explained the lack of a birth certificate by saying it was lost in a fire or some such. They told a bold faced lie to a priest....in church. Aparrently they feared the wrath of my grandfather more than they feared the wrath of God. In my memory, I cannot recall them ever, save for weddings, funerals, baptisms, confirmations etc., attending mass. Guess they didn't want to dice with any lightning bolts.
Meanwhile:
    Nathaniel is moving ahead in his police career. His wife, after giving birth to three children is beginning to behave strangely. She leaves the children alone for hours at a time and begins to dissappear for days at a time. Finally, her behavior becomes so bizzare that Nathaniel has no choice but to committ her. She gets better but decides she wants to move on. They divorce when the youngest child, Jake, is three or four and the children never see their mother again.  A couple of years later, Nathaniel meets a woman named Valerie Swanson and they marry. He is promotted to detective and he and Valerie have two sons, Doug and Greg, and a daughter Amy. His life is pretty much normal and average. He has no idear that yet another one of his progeny is growing up Irish hillbilly back east.
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Next Episode:Â Some Tragic News.
reguards
yer is it any wonder pal
bugg
