My Indigo Son – Preview

My Indigo Son
A Child Who is Different
A Child Who is Blue
©Copyright by Diane Story 2014 All Rights Reserved
Written For the Children by Diane Story

If I swallow anything evil, Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket, Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
~Peter Dennis Townshend

 
Prologue
Even as a small child, I looked for signs; signs that reveal “on earth as it is in heaven.” But even I have to admit, not every event on earth is connected to the heavens, not everything is a message.
Sometimes a fork is just a fork.
I tried to tell myself that while we were building our new home on the most beautiful of God’s green earth – Linage Stables. The joy of building on such a lovely place was overshadowed by the news of “another boy found dead.” Before it ended, almost thirty young boys were killed and some of them dropped into Painted Rocks River, the same river that was becoming my new backyard.
This disturbing crime made me wonder if I really wanted my two young sons living near the river. Though I looked forward to living with the horses and wildflowers, a fear began to swell in my soul. My husband grew up on that land and assured me it was the safest place on earth.
Then another thing happened.
Just weeks before we moved in a dead man was found on our property, a man who had been missing for a couple of days. Apparently he was going home after a swim in the river. While going down our little gravel road just past our home construction site, his motorcycle skidded on the gravel where the pavement meets. He and the motorcycle fell into a low spot not visible from the road. I first learned of this tragedy when I saw my husband being interviewed on television; our meadow and new home in the background.
Without fail, on rainy nights our phone would ring.
“Did he suffer?” asked the weak voice on the other end.
“No ma’am,” my husband lied. My husband is honest to a fault, but even he could not bring himself to disagree with what the authorities told her. But he knew all too well, the deceased man’s hands were wrapped with long grass – pulled up by the roots. Yes, the man suffered and died alone in the meadow.
How could such beauty and tragedy coexist side by side? It was an irreconcilable thought that haunted me.
Moving day approached. As we busied ourselves picking up scraps of wood in our new yard, we spotted a hot air balloon in trouble trying to make an emergency landing in the meadow.
I was mesmerized by the vivid color of the balloon as it descended from heaven to earth as though my family and I were getting a special delivery message. We watched holding our breath. No one spoke. Suddenly the wind changed and blew the balloon out of the meadow’s range and straight toward our new home. I was helpless and could do nothing but stand there and watch.
I silently prayed the balloon would not hit our home and that that poor man would not get hurt. While the balloon wobbled about eight feet above us, the sole occupant leaned over the basket and hollered, “Sir, permission to land?”
“What if I say no?” My husband yelled up to the man.
“I’m coming anyway!”
That day I watched a small speck of brilliant color in the sky turn into a giant monster that just missed our home. It landed in our yard near the front door.
The day we moved into our home was a happy day, though periodically I pushed away unwanted thoughts of the past few months; unwanted thoughts of grief and helplessness. I had to wonder, what does it all mean?
Yes, I know, sometimes a fork is just a fork.

Introduction
Please allow me to introduce the Linage family: Bold, Piety, Peace and Rebel. Each character in My Indigo Son is based on the fact that each person earned his or her name. The surname, Linage, is from the term: family “lineage” and in this instance, it is pronounced with a French accent. This family could be any family in America.
The Bold Linage family was fortunate enough to rear two sons on a horse farm dotted with Halifax green barns on gently rolling meadows adorned with wildflowers. Their farm was adjacent to other farms, all Linage owned. Each farm connected by creeks, creeks rolling briskly to the River of Painted Rocks, near the quaint Southern town of Plum Nellie.
Bold and Piety’s land was graced by a Colonial Williamsburg home along with horses, Sunny Boy and Jelly Bean; dogs, Loyal, Tick and Tock. It was a perfect place for boys to grow.
Many happy days were had in Plum Nellie, a place that was “plum” out of the city and “nellie” in the country. Linage Stables was on the edge of Plum Nellie. The Stables became a meeting place where folks brought covered dishes to cook outs; a place where folks were met with a glass of sweet tea and were sent home with a “Y’all come back.”
At Linage Stables, the most coveted day of the year was Thanksgiving when a one hundred yard football field was cut into the pasture for the annual game. After the game, a feast of turkey and cornbread dressing was shared by family and friends. It was a time when the leaves fell and new found energy burst forth with the first chill in the air; a chill that reminded us all that the annual pig roast was just around the corner.
Lazy afternoons consisted of saddling a horse and riding across the meadow to the creek, up the hillside into the earthy smelling woods, hearing Tick and Tock running rabbits in the near distance.
Sounds perfect doesn’t it?
In some ways it was perfect, but that is not what this story is about. But rather it is the story of a child who seemingly had everything his heart could desire, yet rebelled.
So, how and why did this child earn the name, Rebel?
What was it that made his actions cry out, “I don’t want to live”? What could have happened that made him walk away from his beautiful horse and loyal dog? What made him run from home and self medicate to forget his young life?
That is what this story is about; a story of how a family was brought to their knees looking for a way out; an escape from the luxury of living on a beautiful farm surrounded by family and all that is good.
The idea for the Linage family names came to me while researching family genealogy. I happened to stumble across the name of one of my great grandmothers of old: Reliance Dennis, born 1708 in Middlesex, New Jersey.
And I wondered: did Reliance live up to her name?
Thus the idea was born to archetype the characters in this story.
The story takes place in the state of Georgia. Names of people, towns, businesses, medical organizations, and even the names of the animals are fictitious.
I did not write this story to celebrate boldness, piety, or rebellion, but rather to open the eyes of anyone who finds themselves on such a road; a road of chaos and confusion, grief and broken hearts. It was an unexpected road I traveled that led me to My Indigo Son.
I am not a doctor nor psychologist. I did not write this story from a clinical view, but rather from a mother’s heart. I will apologize in advance for the vulgar language.
And now let me tell you about my indigo son; a child who’s different, a child who’s blue.

“My Indigo Son” is now available on Amazon.com and www.tuckerdaysremembered.com

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