Jack and Beanstalk

EARL E. SOMERS

Copyright © 2014 by Earl E. Somers.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 04/16/2014

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CONTENTS

PREFACE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

DISCLAIMER

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

EPILOGUE ONE

EPILOGUE TWO

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PREFACE

My books are listed variously online at Xlibris.com, Amazon.com (go to Kindle and enter my name as the author), BBOTW (Buy books on the web), and Barnes and Noble. All of my latest books have been converted to e-books.

Both hardcovers and paperbacks make ideal and inexpensive gifts for any occasion. Books may be read and enjoyed over and over while flowers and candies are soon discarded and depleted.

Do your book-reading family and friends a favor.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Members of my family, my friends and acquaintances, encourage me to keep writing as I’ve done since writing and publishing my very first novel at age seventy-six. Writing has become my hobby which I thoroughly enjoy.

As always,

I’m grateful to my good friend,

Steven Big Guy Strickland,

who proofreads my manuscripts and

is helpful in resolving text errors

and computer glitches.

Finally,

whatever accomplishments

we enjoy in our lifetimes are

only possible by

the Grace of God.

DISCLAIMER

As I review what I’ve written in this novel, I note nothing for which I need to apologize with two exceptions: chronology and my accounting of the California National Guard. At times, I may have erred in the ages of various characters in comparison to that of others. The story is simply a fantasy, errors and all. My account of the California National Guard may leave much to be debated among knowledgeable readers. Those of you who were introduced to the fantastic English fables in grade school will enjoy the early chapters of this novel which paraphrase Jack and the Beanstalk. I wonder what our children are being taught nowadays when they’re not preoccupied with their cellular phones.

CHAPTER ONE

A dmittedly, he would have had to agree that he had a snootful—at least one beyond his usual self-imposed limit. If his head was on straight, he would have called a taxi just as his buddy, Melvin Cassidy, suggested. Mel had even offered to drive him home, although they lived in opposite directions. Jack assured him, albeit slurring in speech, that he was perfectly capable of driving himself.

He hadn’t gone very far from the Elk’s Lodge, in an early morning drizzle where he had attended the monthly Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) dinner meeting when he had to veer away sharply to avoid ramming into the rear of a parked Ford truck on the side of the poorly lit street. He was swearing under his breath as he passed by the vehicle and glimpsed someone standing in the rain in front of the vehicle, waving frantically. Ha! Fat chance! No way, José! He was not about risking a stop along a poorly lit street at 2:30 a.m. to offer assistance. Anyway, someone else would soon happen by and render assistance, or else, surely, a black and white would be around shortly.

He slapped himself on the side of the head as he executed a U-turn and returned, hoping that someone else had since stopped by. No such luck. Another U-turn enabled him to bring his Ford Escape to a stop behind the stranded truck, a Ford F-150. A very tall person in a rain gear approached him as he lowered his window. He was momentarily taken aback when he was addressed by a woman’s voice. Thanks for stopping, Mister. Not much traffic this time of the morning. Got a tire flat as a pancake, and of course, no tools in the back. Anyway, never have changed a tire in my life. Jack inquired, Triple A member? As a matter of fact, I am. But wouldn’t you know, I left my cell phone back in my apartment. To be perfectly frank, I’m all goofed up right now. I’m just now coming from… Jack noticed the rain was more intense. Okay, look, get in the car before you get soaked to the gills. We’ll call Triple A and let them fix your flat tire. Thanks again, Mister. Really do appreciate this.

Getting your car all wet with my raincoat dripping all over the place. Sorry about that. Let me borrow your phone, and I’ll call Triple A. Okay. But first, do you have any flares in your truck? Flares? Hmm… actually, I don’t know. I’ll go look. Please do. We might be here for a while, and we don’t want to get rear-ended. Visibility isn’t all that great along this stretch. Give me your Triple A card, and I’ll call them while you’re looking for the flares.

Everything was soon under control, and the two were using the time getting acquainted while awaiting the arrival of an AAA vehicle. After explaining his own reason for being up and about during the wee hours, he listened to the woman’s story. Ever attended a volleyball tournament, Jack? Not really, Cheri. Though I’ve seen matches occasionally on the boob tube. Well… that’s what I’ve started doing on a collegiate level at San Jose while earning my BA degree. Normally, as a postgraduate student, I’d not be eligible to compete any longer on a collegiate level. But soon after I matriculated at State, our entire athletic programs were discontinued for lack of funding. Many of our athletes, men and women, transferred to other colleges. My friend, Mindy Patterson, and I remained at State for our postgraduate work. Two years ago, a generous alumnus bestowed State with ten million. We were in business again. Our eligibility status was verified by the NCAA, and we were off and running. Tonight, our team was celebrating—well, actually last night—for qualifying for the collegiate semifinals being held next week in southern California. Interesting. Will the matches be televised? As far as I know, Jack. But it’d be at the same time as your precious football games. Who’d wanna watch volleyball when they can watch football? An interesting observation, Cheri. You see, I’ve never actually met and spent time batting the breeze with any football jocks, such as I’m doing at this moment with a volleyball player. Besides, it’s a matter of personal taste to some extent, I suppose. Would I prefer looking at a uniformed hunk over a scantily clad, very attractive young lady? My reply to that is a resounding ‘No way, José!’ Even if that scantily-clad, attractive young lady happens to be six feet, five inches tall? Far as I’m personally concerned, Cheri, size is immaterial because everyone these days is taller—both men and women. The days when men usually were expected to hover over women have passed by. Most of the women I encounter these days are taller than I, and I happen to be five nine and a half. So… then you’re not overwhelmed by taller women as so many men are, huh? Not at all, Cheri. I’m quite content being a bachelor, so it matters not how women regard me one way or the other. I’m not seeking a permanent relationship.

Suddenly, a vehicle with a rotating red-and-blue light pulled alongside and stopped. The police had arrived. In short order, Jack explained, without noticeably slurring his speech, the circumstances to the officer’s satisfaction. In reply to Jack’s query, the officer informed him that there was an all-night coffee shop just ahead on Grand Avenue. Immediately after the departure of the patrol car, the AAA vehicle finally showed up. Without any further conversation on their parts, both Jack and Cheri departed the area in their respective vehicles.

CHAPTER TWO

T hey were somewhat surprised meeting at the coffee shop parking lot on Grand Avenue, also surprised to find it crowded at 3:45 a.m. Fortuitously, they entered just as a couple was departing, making their seats in a booth available. Jack commented, Glad you agreed to join me here for a little refreshment before heading home. Too late for a good night’s sleep. Would have had to get up again in another two hours in any case. Don’t have any early classes today, but I usually join a few of the other girls for a five-mile run before showering and breakfast. Something I should still be doing myself, starting to carry extra baggage around my middle. I was an exercise nut after I completed basic training at Fort Benning a few years ago, before I was deployed to Afghanistan. After completing two and a half years over there, I returned here with my unit—content to go with the flow until they deploy me again. Oh, so you’re in the service then? National Guard. Gotta attend monthly weekend meetings. In addition to what I earn as a real-estate salesman, I get a VA compensation check for combat-related pay. Also, National Guard pay. It doesn’t add up to much but permits me to keep my head above water. Selling houses must be lucrative, no? Sure it is when one manages to sell a house now and then. But I’m working on a project where I plow it all back as much as I can afford. What kind of project would that be, Jack, if I may ask? Surely, I purchased a bank repossession a year ago when real estate hit rock bottom. Got a two-story, four-bedroom, three and a half bath, split-level house in Atherton for a song, practically. But enough about me, Cheri. What’s with you? You’re a graduate student at San Jose State, huh? That’s right, Jack. Working on my MBA. Should earn my degree at the end of this semester. What then? With the upturn in the economy these days, I should be able to write my own ticket. At the present time, I’m up to my ears in debt with student and assorted other loans. I’ll breathe a lot easier when I pay them off. Don’t you get any assistance from your family? Not anymore since I earned my high school diploma. I’m practically persona non grata with my father. Wow. What a bummer! Got off on his wrong side, huh? You can say that again, Jack. Cheri was aware that their conversation was being listened to quite intently by the other couple sharing the booth. I’d like to give you more details at another time and place, Jack, that is, if you’re so inclined. Anyway, I’d like to hear more about that project you’re working on. What’s your agenda tomorrow after school? She and Jack exchanged business cards. Cheri suggested, I’ll call you at my earliest convenience tomorrow… er… make that today. Most likely after 4:00 p.m. Maybe we could meet somewhere later for an early evening meal.

Jack had difficulty falling asleep, aware that dawn was already at hand. He had nothing pressing on his agenda until later after lunch. Then he remembered he was to meet an Otis elevator maintenance man at 2:30 p.m. on site at his rehab project in Atherton. Still, as he concentrated on this and that, his thoughts kept returning to Cheri. They had only met a few hours ago and had already exchanged more personal information than was his habit. He attributed his loose tongue to having had too many beers. Unless he was fooling himself, she seemed to be at least mildly interested in him. The question kept eating at him: Why? Did she feel obligated to him because he had come along just when she needed assistance? Is it possible that she actually was attracted to him? Well, they were going to meet later in the afternoon. Perhaps his curiosity would be assuaged. In any event, was he really interested in getting involved?

Finally falling asleep, he awakened at precisely noon and had to scramble to keep his appointment with the Otis elevator guy.

After the elevator was performing to his satisfaction, Jack met with the swimming pool maintenance rep who assured him that his crew would appear early the following week and attend to whatever was necessary to have the pool in tip-top shape, ready for use.

5:30 p.m. Jack glanced at his watch, wondering why Cheri hadn’t called yet. He was about to call her when his phone rang. Was just about ready to call you, Cheri. Got hung up in an extra-long practice session after class. Just got out of the shower. Not too late, am I? Not at all. I’m over here in Atherton. Been working on my project. Maybe we could meet at the Red Lobster in Menlo Park nearby. Are you familiar with the area? Very much so. I was born and raised in Atherton, attended high school there. My family lives on a secluded, gated ten-acre estate. Wow! That’ll give us a lot to discuss during our dinner. And I’m curious about the project you’re working on in Atherton, of all places. Wasn’t even aware that there existed any bank repos in Atherton.

CHAPTER THREE

D uring the course of conversation while dining, Jack stated his curiosity. So your old man is a billionaire, owns his own import business. Yet he’s allowed you to pile up a load of student loans while attending college—no help from him at all? I usually refrain from talking about it, Jack. But… Well, then don’t. It’s just that it doesn’t make any sense to me. Understandably. For some reason or other, I want to tell you I fell out with my father. My mother supported me, but actually her opinions were never seriously taken into account when I sort of veered away from the plans my father had made for me. It began when I graduated from Atherton High. My dad had it all arranged for me to attend Stanford. The coach at San Jose State talked me into applying there as a freshman, which appealed to me because my best buddy at Atherton, Mindy Patterson, had committed there on a volleyball scholarship. You see, I was already tall at age eighteen and had been the star of our Atherton team. Don’t laugh now, but I had also acquired the nickname Beanstalk. Then you have no regrets? None other than that, all sports had been suddenly defunded and discontinued at State during my freshman year. I was still living at home at the time in spite of my father’s ill feelings. But then, it happened. What? One of daddy’s senior staff members had a son attending Stanford who was often a guest at our house for one affair or another. As could be expected, I suppose, Bradley invited me out on a date on a Friday evening, which was the night before a scheduled six o’clock intensive practice session the next morning. You see, although our sports programs were defunded, we continued working out and practicing, hoping for the best. I made my excuses which upset Bradley, his parents, and my father. Only my mother sided with me. When an alternate date was proposed, I flat out, stated that I would let one and all know when I felt like dating. Hmm… you didn’t take a shine to Bradley, huh? "Wasn’t that, Jack. He was attractive enough and stood an inch or two over six feet. For one thing, I was bored with his bragging about his popularity with all the girls he knew at Stanford