"One child grows up to be.
Somebody that just loves to learn.
Another child grows up to be somebody you'd just love to burn-
It's a family affair.
It's a family affair.
It's a family affair.
Welcome to another Nightmare.
A family is a unit. According to all available data on the subject this is where all the nuturing takes place. All the warmth and support. The family unit is what gives you autonomy if you go through all of your developmental stages correctly.
By correctly we mean that family members were there at the correct times guiding and giving positive encouragement, thus making an autonomous human being.
Well that's the way the text books tell it.
What happens when those stages of development are missing?
What kind of person developes then?
Most of us long or yearn to leave home. Some at an earlier age than others. Leaving the family we make the empty nest syndrome a necessary and positive phase that families must go through.
Then begins the long process of middle and late adult hood.
It can't start unless we leave home.
Meet the Bucannons, They somehow avoided all the normal stages growth and stayed together for a FAMILY BUSINESS.
The Bucannons have always been together as long as I can remember. The old man rocked back and forth on his porch, the setting sun glinted sharply in his eye's as if to get even with him one more time before nightfall.
The old man put his dark glasses on, they were wrapped with a kind of leather around the sides so that no light could get into his vision on either side.
His clothing was made of woven cotton. His trousers were baggy, he was clean but comfortable as he rocked back and forth every now and then reaching down and rolling a brightly colored cat's eye marble.
"I like to play this game with myself. I used to play it with my grandchildren. I'm related to the Bucannon's I know their entire story. They have been together for longer than is entirely healthy if you ask me.
One thing though, they've always been sucessful at everything so nobody's ever questioned them.
I remember when they first started they all moved into this farm house. Nobody wanted that old thing. They were'nt popular like they are today. People pay a pretty penny for a farm house I reckon. Everything they every did just seemed to go their way. "
A large brown cat like creature moved slowly against the side of the porch. It flashed leaping over the railing of the porch pausing only to look back just once.
In the fading light of the approaching evening the creature seemed to be half cat half monkey. If as if for just a fleeting secound the two merged and became one. Then in an instant both creatures became one and were gone!
The old man looked at the empty space where the creature had been and then looked at his pocket watch.
Jumpin Jacks it's almost time for me to listen to my favorite radio program. You gonna just sit there and stare at me or are you comming in to listen with me?
With that the old man turned the rocking chair towards the wall and stood up.
He opened the front door which was a screen door. The screen made for a veil of dim images and shapes.
Don't just stand there, put my chair back where it goes and come on inside. The old man walked towards the door and closed it behind him.
You could hear him hitting and kicking pans and moving things around.
Don't go to any great trouble, this is my first journalistic story and I don't know if this is the kind of job that I'm cut out for anyway.
Now what kind of nonsense is that, I'm a treasure trove of stories and tales. I could tell you things that you'd be afraid to print. What kind of story is this that your supposed to be writing anyway?
It's just a newstory for school. It's going to be graded. I decided to take journalism instead of english I thought it would be more interesting."
Well you aint never going to get nowhere in life with that attitude of yours.
Why is that?
I told you to fix my chair. Now bring it in the house before it gets really dark. At my age I can't afford to be tripping over furniture in the dark like that.
Kevin was a bright young man. His goals were a little unclear as he entered his first semester of college. He could be anything he wanted to be. Like what? There were times when he thought that it had been a mistake to come here. The old man seemed pleasant enough but what kind of story could he provide?
No matter the chair seemed to be a good start. Kevin really felt like he was helping the old man as he grabbed the chair with both hands. Immediately he noticed the wieght of the chair. It's massive back was not as apparent as it had been with the old man sitting in it rocking back and forth.
Now that the old man was in the house he seemed even taller and wider than he did. Just for an instant he seemed to grow larger and wider. It must be the lighting thought Kevin. Kevin struggled with the massive chair and brought it through the first screen door.
A hand reached out from nowhere and grabbed the chair sending it sliding across the floor. It stopped nearly even with a large radio.
"Come on in and close the door behind you, the radio show's almost on."
Kevin closed the door and walked into the living room. The room was old, the old man and the room made a matching pair.
The paint on the walls was not peeling, however, it did look like it was quite ancient. There was no dust just clutter. Oh, lampshades jutted from tables and in some cases the tables were full of little porcelin figurines.
There was a small throw rug that was mutted and hand painted.
Alot of wood. The floors were wooden as well. There were picture frames some of silver. They were on a small table.
The floor was covered with buckets and white bowls, that were stained with rust on the inside.
Roof leaks from time to time the old man called over his shoulder. Tonights a good one I can feel it. I never miss my radio programs. You can take all the television shows in the world and I do get cable so I'm not exactly crazy, but there's nothing like radio. I can remember my first radio, I mean the first radio ever that I ever had. I made it out of wire and cut the wood myself.
That seemed like as good a place for Kevin to start his interview or whatever this was. Finding a story was not the easiest thing in the world and he still felt as though somehow he was not cut out for this kind of thing.
Can I ask you some questions about the radio?
The old man kept his back to Kevin as he continued to play with the radio knobs.
How many languages can you speak son?
Kevin looked at the back of the old man through the opening in the rocking chair. A streak of light caught his attention. Like a ghost it was catlike. He'd seen it earlier on the porch. Light brown with blonde highlights around it's tale. Before he could get a really good look at it he sensed the Old man looking at him. It felt just like two beams of light from a broken magnifying glass.
Kevin jumped and turned his attention away from the streak of light that he saw in the oval window just above a large table filled with silver framed photographs.
On the floor was an empty bag of chips. Bucannon's was written in script.
Don't mind the place I need to clean up I just can't help it this radio show really makes my evenings!
The old man turned towards Kevin.
Did'nt you say that you had to do a story? Well, you should talk to me. I've got somany stories.
Kevin walked over towards the old man and his foot almost touched the chip bag.
Wait! The old man turned around and grabbed the chip bag off the floor.
I've got to be cleaner. My family might put me away if I don't learn to keep things in order. It's just that this radio program is my only vice.
In the dimming evening light wooden masks could be seen on the walls of the old man's living room. They houng there with empty eye's and open mouths. All them carved. Some had what seemed to be straw that had been dyed. Beaded heads and brightly colored neck wear hung from each mask.
I've been all over the world, bragged the old man. India. Europe. Every where I went I collected things.
Everything in here tells some kind of story kevin. Ah but that's another time.
What you want is a real story to get that grade don't you?
I should tell you about the Bucannon's. I'm kin to them.
Kevin looked at the room and opted to sit on the floor instead of an overstuffed couch. The couch looked as though it might even be the old man's bed so Kevin did'nt want to pry. He felt at ease with the old man.
Kevin took his tape recorder and with his thumb turned it on. He had a handful of miniture tapes in his pocket.
The Bucannon's were fairly well known chip manufacturer's. They had all kinds of pretzels, potatoe chip, and crunchy peanut brittle for sale in the supermarkets. They also carried a brand of soda locally called Bucannon's.
Every once in a while down route 66 you'd see a large truck with the banner Bucannon's on the side of it. Nobody really ever interviewed them at least as far as Kevin knew.
Great a boring story about a family that makes junk food.
That's the kind of thing I want to do with my week-ends.
Can I tape you; asked Kevin.
You ain't got a tape recorder do you- let me see it?
Kevin reached inside his pocket and produced a small sony taperecorder.
It's not that big, exclaimed the old man.
Think I'm backing out?
Where's the rest of your gear. Don't you have a laptop. Every good journalist I know got at least one of those computer things.
Don't tell me Kevin that your going to write all this out by hand.
Well? Kevin felt a grin fill his face. His boyhood came back in an instance. It was like being with one of his grandparents.
I could; continued Kevin, go outside to the car and get my laptop. I did'nt think that you'd want to go that far. I thought that I'd..
Go and get the damn thing Kevin, and hurry.
I can't feed you but I can tell you a great story Kevin.
Hurry.
Kevin pulled himself off of the floor amidst the clutter of pans and buckets. The radio continued to be a source of interest to the old man as he turned his back towards Kevin and sat down again in the rocking chair.
Hurry Kevin.
Hurry and I'll tell you a tale.
Kevin walked over to the door. His legs felt weak and the muscles in his thighs flexed and then went limp again. His gait was stiff and he reached for the door and walked out onto the darkened porch.
The night air filled his lungs right away. The soft sound of crickets mutted and the soft deep throated sound of summer frogs among the weeded grass in the back of the house created a potrait of sorts. In the evening light Kevin could see his Sky Chief, it long body and soft rag top, his chariot. Nobody could pick a used car like Kevin.
This car had class, and plenty of room to throw a semesters worth of personal gear into. Just in case Journalism wasn't what he was meant to be he could always switch majors in mid semester.
Kevin walked over to the darkned form of the Sky Chief and pulled the laptop from underneath the front seat.
He turned the cover over gently to make sure that the soft case was secure and then he brought the battery pack and the AC adapter.
Kevin felt odd about having to use the old man's electricity. Maybe if he burned out his batteries for two hours he could work it in. Maybe the story would go for alot less than two hours and he could jump in his Sky Cheif and sale off into the night.
Somehow he doubted it.
The old man seemed full of energy.
Kevin,you didn't get lost did you? It's not that big a deal
I've got some notebook paper if you need it.
I 've been wanting to write a book a bout myself Kevin. Maybe after this story you'd consider helping me write my life story. I've traveled all over the world.
It could keep me out of the crazy house. The old man chuckled and pinrolled a azure cat's eye marble in his left hand.
Oh, you've got one. Why don't you stay out here on the porch Kevin I'm old and I need to be inside. I can turn up the radio and we can both listen to it while I tell you stories.
I'll leave the screen door closed and I'll open the main door that way a nice breeze will cut right through this place.
Kevin are you familar with Voodo? It's ancient. They practice it in some countries. I don't know whether they do it to discourage tourism or whether they are just that far from GOD, but believe me they do it and it works.
That's what these mask's are all about Kevin.
Kevin stopped on the top step of the porch. The old man had taken off one of the masks from the wall and was holding it in front of his own face.
If you don't mind Kevin I'd like to tell the story like this. The old man backed slightly away from the screen door.
The screen gave a gauze like haze of metal to the old man. His head seemed to have the horns of a goat.
Crazy crazy crazy house is where they want to put me Kevin.
I can't let that happen!
I know too much about the Bucannon's for them to ever put me in the crazy house.
Those Bucannon's were really a tight bunch of people to be a family. To me they were down right clannish. Closeness is one thing but these Bucannon's carried it to an unatural degree. I mean it Kevin you can't tell one from the other.
You don't know if the sister and the mother are the brother and the uncle. It ain't natural, and you don't have to write that part down, everybody knows that.
Kevin they started a business but somethings terriably wrong with it! They should be jailed or run out of town for it.
Grandpa that you?
A voice called out from the back of the house.
I don't live alone Kevin they live right in back of me. I can't always talk about them.
Grandpa you talkin to somebody?
Listen Kevin come back tomorow promise me you'll do that.
Well, it is late. Is there anyway that I can use your outlets in case my labtop batteries run dry?
Go on now Kevin, tomorrow is another day.
The old man seemed different now, his facial expressions covered by the mask that was hanging on the wall. Kevin could see through the screen door and into the carved openings of the mask.
As he made his way back towards his Sky Chief he turned around and tossed the small tape recorder into the bushes just as the last glow from the fireflies blinked off leaving the house in total darkness.
How are you talking to?
People stop by and ask for directions from time to time. That's all it is.
Well, you know it's late and you shouldn't be up on the porch you might attract attention.
Your privacy is the only thing...
The door closed and the conversation that the old man was having was lost to the solid slam of the front door.
An errie feeling claimed Kevin as he let the huge automobile gently roll away from the house. A chill. Somehow it felt as if he was being watched. It was probably nothing.
The Sky Cheif rolled crunching the gravel road beneath it's huge diameter.
Kevin started the car up after a few feet when he was sure that he'd rolled enough distance away from the house. In reality he didn't care whether or not he got the old man in trouble with his family or not. He was begining to feel like a journalist he thought. A little trouble might make the article more interesting.
Still the old man was kind of a nice person, a nut, but a nice nut.
Kevin thought about the taperecorder, how ethical is that. You can't tape without people's permission. It almost felt like fun to him. Kevin put the Sky Cheif in park and turned off the engine. He could easily walk back and if he was very quiet he could find his tape recorder in the grass silently listening to nothing but crickets! He knew he'd feel better the moment he did this.
Kevin walked carefully back to the house which was convered with a huge white canopy. The tarp was shut tight as a drum and there was no access visable from either veiwpoint.
"Looking for something"
Kevin jumped back a few feet away from where he was sure he threw his taperecorder.
I left my taperecorder here by accident.
A taperecorder. You mean this.
It was so dark. The white tent floated in the darkness. White and stark. Nothing surrounded the disembodied voice except the shroud of darkness.
What are doing with a taperecorder around here?
I was just about to do a school article with the old man that lives here when....
The lights in his head flashed first Kevin saw the tent. It glowed like the moon on a summer night. Then he felt the dull thud against his nose. His eye's watered up and his head became light.
Sleep Kevin. While you sleep I'll give you a story. Where's your car?
Kevin mumbled something he thought was unintelligable about the car being a little ways down the road.
Good, we'll go and get it. Bring it here Kevin. You had engine trouble, nothing serious. Kevin have you ever heard of Voodoo, witch craft, the arts, devil worship? The voice continued to ask question after question. You can live or you can die Kevin it's all the same when your on somebodies property!
She's crazy, kevin. Sure as sure she's a madwoman. She's a Bucannon.
The old man took a long deep breath.
Get away from that boy! Go on. Kevin she's a mad as a hatter. All the Bucannon's are like that,. Crazy from imbreeding!
Keeps you out the nut house though don't it. Don't it! What we gonna do now grandpa what? Humm? We gonna play nut house games? Why didn't we keep in an institution? Free meals room and board?
You wanted to stay cause you liked it here. I thought after what you did to Mary...
Shut up girl and leave Kevin and I alone!
Takes one to know one Kevin. What you doing talking to an old man this late at night in the first place? What kind of person are you? Why do you need a tape recorder?
Kevin could'nt feel the blood leaving his nose.
His sinus felt clogged and his vision blurred.
Nosin around in other people's business is what your doing. Kevin barely felt it. The dark cloak of sleep surrounded him.
Where you are now is the heart of the Bucannon industry. If you look there on the wall you'll see grandpa. He's an important part of this family.
Damn Tootin I am and I know everything that your doing everything!
Everything like what grandpa?
You should'nt be messin around with food. And you shouldn't have done anything to Kevin. It's wrong I tell you!
Kevin felt as if he were on a guided tour, there were food products all around him. Brightly colored packages containing processed cakes and cookies. Meat products that were sealed in heavy plastic.
We started this company after we found a food bank containing radiated food products. Everything you can imagine including soaps and shampoo's already packaged. Ready for shipping. We invested in label making. The brands are long gone. Radiated food lasts for a 100 years or more!
Tell him.
Oh, I see. You really want him to know everything about the family.
Go on tell him.
Kevin looked up at the blur of processed food stuffs.
Tours over Mr Kevin. I wouldn't want you to be late for class or anything, next time don't try and tape people without their permission. I believe this is yours.
Kevin looked as a hand slowly produced a tiny tape-recorder.
Take this and go.
You'd better do as she say's Kevin.
