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1whimsicalgal · 3 months

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Pam Lives: Part III Beyond The Texas Chainsaw Massacre The Hardesty's - 1951 - 1962 A School of Delight - The Early Years Sally and Franklin, first cousins, had spent their early childhood years playing at their grandparents once beautiful home. For the last 15 years, especially after Grandpa Hardesty's death in 1963, and Grandmother Hardesty's then failing health, when she became too old to live alone in the house, the 27 windows and 7 doors were soon boarded up. Grandma Hardesty was moved to Luling, to a nursing home near Franklin's family. Saturday, the 18th of August, was to be a very special day for both Sally and Franklin, a day of remembering their beloved grandparents, and the summers they had so enjoyed there as children, running free, swimming, and fishing for tadpoles in the nearby creek. Their cherished memories of watching the stars while sitting on the lawn, or nestled in their grandparents' laps, eating corn, squash, and fresh tomatoes from the garden, had filled their thoughts and sustained them through the years. The Hardesty sons had managed to keep the house in livable condition until Grandpa Hardesty had his last stroke, and soon passed.

The two grandchildren were left brokenhearted. Grandma Hardesty became lost without her best friend, lost in grief, and was soon forgetting things. One day the month after Grandpa had passed, Sally came up from Houston to visit her with her mother. Instead of standing at the door to welcome them, Grandma Hardesty never moved from her rocking chair, and her eyes looked out the window, as though her mind was somewhere else. When Sally took her hand, Mrs. Hardesty asked who she was. Sally looked into her grandmother’s eyes as she stroked her grandmother’s long white silky braid, she'd combed so many times. Gently she said, “I’m Sally, grandma, don’t you know me?” Big crocodile tears began to stream down Sally’s face and cheeks as her grandmother's eyes blankly stared back. Sally was deeply sensitive and perceptive, most unusual for a child, and always such a determined little soul, full of love and kindness. She pulled herself up on her grandmother’s lap and held her granny close, realizing something was terribly wrong, but hoping if she held her grandma tight, and long enough, surely, surely she would remember her. Unfortunately, Grandma Hardesty didn’t remember her, but allowed Sally to stay on her lap, and rock with her for some time.

Back then it was called, "Dementia," not, "Alzheimer's." Adored by their grandparents, Franklin and Sally were overcome with sadness when they began to realize they would probably never go back to play and run freely in their grandparent’s fields, as they had always taken for granted before, or pick vegetables with them in their garden, ride in Grandpa’s brand new Studebaker into town for groceries. The two people in the world they worshipped and loved so much, were disappearing from their lives. There would be no more Christmas or Easter dinners where the two families would gather. The loss was profound and marked a significant change for them, and for their families.

In their first ten years of life, the two children came every summer from their homes, Sally from Houston, and Franklin from Luling. They would stay from mid-June to mid-August and stay with the old couple in their 100-year-old home tucked away in the country, outside Round Rock, Texas. In the Hardesty’s last three summers in their house, they had also welcomed Sally's friend, Pam, to come with them. Pam would become Franklin's friend as well, and usually stay the first three weeks, and then return for their last week. The three friends enjoyed running through the fields, playing on the old tractor, or behind the barn, and continually investigating the mysterious old outhouse that stood in ruin out behind the house. Each wondered why anyone would need such a thing when running toilets worked so well! Grandma Hardesty laughed at the children's naïveté and patiently explained that indoor plumbing hadn't been installed in the house until 1937, just about the same time they got electricity. The children sat enthralled by her stories. Tears had filled Grandma's eyes when she described the first time she pushed the switch, and the light came on. It was like a miracle! She said it had changed their lives “utterly and completely.” They were no longer in the dark, or lighting kerosene lamps to see, and Grandpa soon bought her a refrigerator to replace the old ice box.

Sally, Pam, and Franklin had talked endlessly about these mystifying subjects, their young minds trying hard to comprehend it all. They were stunned to learn that there had actually been no electricity until around the same time as the toilets and running water, as the house was outside the city of Round Rock, where it had come years earlier. "No 'lectricity? That's just cwazy!" little Franklin had remarked, mouth agape. Pam and Sally agreed completely, and sat up late by candlelight, whispering long into the night, their minds full of wonder. They only had more questions the next day, and the day after that, and so on. It was a rich and exciting journey they took in the country outside Round Rock, a school of unexpected delight, and marvelous secrets that fueled their endless days of pretend, each playing different roles, imagining stories that they played out day after day. When Grandpa told them about boiling water to bathe in an old tub before there had been plumbing, Franklin asked, "What’s plumbin’ Grandpa?" Indeed they shared powerful memories and deep emotions of their times spent with the old couple who had taught them so much, and who they felt so inextricably bonded to.

The home then fell into complete disrepair and neglect, barely surviving the 1965 flood, as well as a small group of local teens who used it as their meeting place for parties, and late-night lover’s trysts, accompanied by a little dabbling in LSD and pot. Later, another group of teen vandals had discovered it, and both groups alternately hung out there. Often they had used boards to build fires in the backyard on cool nights. They could park their cars in back and not be seen by any of the neighbors who lived nearby. Then, one night the sheriff heard a rumor and came out with two deputies to investigate. All thirteen teens got busted for “one roach.” That’s all it took back in 1967 to get put away for 10 years, and that is exactly what happened to 19-year-old Bobby Bush. That was all they found anyway. By a stroke of luck, Bobby and his pals had left their stash hidden far out beyond the back fence, a hundred yards away, bringing only a few joints to the house, which they had already smoked by the time the sheriff arrived. The cops never found the rest of the five pounds of pot and the 37 tabs of Purple Haze. If they had, Bobby would have gotten life for sure. The cops never realized that all thirteen were tripping heavily on acid when they had arrived at 3 AM. As it turned out, Bobby was the only one they charged, but it put such a fear of God into the whole area, so much that the kids decided to never return to the house after that night, except for the one night Leon and Riley snuck back to get the stash. From the road one mile to the South, crossing over the field at night, the two young men managed to retrieve their booty. Bobby went to the pen at Huntsville. He only served three years because his Uncle George had just been elected to the Texas House Of Representatives and pulled some strings for his nephew, but it was a gigantic embarrassment to the family of blue-bloods, and Bobby was relegated to the role of black sheep forever thereafter. After that, the property was all but ignored until Sally, Franklin, Pam Jerry, and Kirk visited. And now, the Hardesty property was to be sold off. It just felt wrong. For the past five years, their two fathers had been embroiled in a nasty heated debate, causing somewhat of a rift, all over what was to be done with it. Taxes had steadily been going up every year. It was a piece of nostalgia that was in their blood, and yet, an unwanted financial burden on both families. Lives would change forever after 1963 with Grandpa’s stroke, and then, with young Franklin's accident in ‘63. That was a misery that would compel the two brothers to find their souls again, and by that come to recognize what really mattered in life. It worked like bittersweet tonic and brought the families back together because that’s what you did when things got bad, back then, you stuck together. You stuck by them through thick and thin. End Pam Lives! Part III 🚀💋🎥🪝🪚⛓ 🐓 Cover Designs by Desmond Ambrose Root Pam Escaping - Drawing by @Tadeo Mendoza ** (Inside stories)

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1whimsicalgal · 3 months

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Pam Lives! - Part II

Saturday Evening, August 18, 1973 Evil Doings Inside The Sawyer House

❧ ❧ ❧ It was around half past ten in the evening of Saturday, August 18, 1973, Pam had been awakened by the piercing screams of her friend, Sally. At first, she thought she was in the midst of a nightmare, then slowly she blinked her eyes and horrible thoughts began to remind her of where she was… and what had happened earlier. As she tried to sit up she hit her head on something and then it all started coming back to her. Her heart sank. She would have no idea of how much time had passed since she had heard Jerry’s voice calling her name. The sudden shaft of light pouring into her would-be tomb, momentarily lifted her up, as though she had been thunderstruck, willing her to escape. Then, suddenly a large hand had come toward her face and pushed her back down into the cold darkness. She fell back into unconsciousness, the shock insulating her from the excruciating pain she would only later come to know very intimately. In her one stroke of good fortune that day, Pam’s body had been transferred off the meat hook and had been placed by Leatherface, in what might have been a deep freeze-freezer, that is, IF it had been working properly. This machine was far from efficient. Working properly, the temperature would have been nearer 0-28 degrees, intermittently cutting on and off to maintain a freezing level, but this was no modern day Betsy. This was a relic manufactured by GE in ’47. Having never been serviced and damned low on freon, and as you might have already surmised by now, it had been over-used for some 26 years, and run nearly to death. Just barely cool was all she could muster, and she held at around 40 degrees. If it had been working, Pam would surely have been dead in the hour since Jerry had opened the freezer lid, or before.

Pa and Grandpa bought it third hand back in ’59, when old man Carver, the butcher from over in Elgin, “Went and got hit by a train.” His pick-up died on the tracks, and he got slammed smack dab in the side by the Santa Fe Freight Express. The Eagle Eye driving the train saw him way too late to stop, and as the whistle screamed bloody murder, Eugene Carver frantically tried to get the engine to turn over, but he was too old to make any fast moves, and as the sun set, the line of two engines, 28 freight cars, and a caboose, set his fate in stone. It pushed him and the pick-up nearly a half mile, before finally coming to a stop. Carver’s favorite hunting hound, Petey, who was traveling in the back, had jumped out just in time. After the impact, Petey chased the train and his master all the way, until it moaned and spewed to a screeching halt, sparks flying everywhere. Petey was running back and forth wildly, around what was left of the truck, barking, and yelping. They found Carver, with Petey licking blood off his face and whimpering, trying to bring his old buddy back to life. True story.

When Pa and Grandpa drove over to Elgin to pick up the old freezer and bring it back to the Sawyer house, Petey was barking pretty much non stop from the very moment the Sawyer truck turned into the Carver’s long dirt driveway. He followed Mrs. Carver out to meet the miserable, stinking Sawyer duo and trusted neither of them one iota. When Grandpa Sawyer went to hand the two sweaty 20 dollar bills, and 2 crinkled 5’s to Mozelle Carver, Petey almost bit his hand off. She had to lock Petey up while they loaded the deep freeze into the back of the pick-up. Dogs smell evil, they don’t have to guess. Both Petey and Mozelle were glad to see the mongrels leave. She didn’t like that crooked, smirk smile, “Red” Pa Sawyer kept giving her. It gave her “the willies,” she later told reporters.  

  Inside the freezer, Pam listened almost without breathing, petrified by the wild howling, hoots interjected by shouts, that were only tipped by a raucous cacophony of insane laughter. Sally’s screams were maddening, followed by her heart-rending pleas, crescendoing in the background, echoing through the walls, and then ricocheting through Pam’s brain. Her powerlessness to do anything to help her friend momentarily paralyzed her, causing overwhelming guilt and agony. Her body shook almost to a convulsive state, pain pulsing from the left side of her back, shooting down through her leg and back up again, kept in check only by her gut scorching desire to live. This is what later drove her further and further, inch by inch. Pam would never know how she was able to lift her weakened body out of the feckless excuse of a broken freezer, but she did. She pushed the lid upward, and carefully began to pull herself over the side. The pain was mind-numbing. There was one more piece of luck Pam had on that day that aided in saving her life.

Pam’s adrenaline had been at an enormously high level when Leatherface opened that steel door. She had put up such an incredible fight, almost escaping twice, surprising the dimwitted mammoth so much that in his haste, he had completely forgotten about her afterward. In fact, so much had Pam’s struggle bumfuzzled Leatherface, he had been sitting in the back of the house sweating, and almost passed out because of the searing heat in that tiny room. He was so overcome with exertion, that he had to sit down and catch his breath. He never even heard Jerry come in, and it was only by sheer accident he discovered Jerry snooping in the slaughter room! How close Jerry and Pam had both been to escaping! Truth be known, Leatherface was about as smart as a bag of rocks. He’d degenerated mentally to the level of an imbecile in the last 15 years, so much so that now, he could hardly remember how to turn on the lights, let alone keep track of three snooping kids. It was not in the cards. Pa and Grandpa had pummeled him in the head, sometimes ten or more times a day in his teens. Eventually, Leatherface had lost his ability to speak at all and was relegated to grunts and squeals. It was a tragedy of massive dimensions.

When he had slung Pam on the meat hook a few hours earlier, in the pandemonium, his excitement, and frenzy, he merely wanted to get her out of his way so that he could get to his prime task, taking care of the young man already dead, laying on the table. Consequently, he had been stupidly careless. The hook had not penetrated her spine, nor, just as miraculously, had it even touched her lung. This is why she had been able to reach up and try to grab hold of the shaft of the meat hook… however briefly. Pam had lost consciousness almost immediately over the shock of being forced to watch as he began to dismember Kirk’s body. From that moment on, her mind had fortunately erased almost all of the most gruesome details, that otherwise might have caused such devastating damage to her mentally, that she might never have recovered. These few simple factors worked to help in saving Pam’s life.

Lying on the floor, what she was most cognizant of, was the fact that her entire left side was almost numb, and she had great difficulty moving anything without searing pain. As night came, there was no light in the dismal slaughter cave room, but for a fortunate wedge of light, a blurred glow, with an evil aura of yellow and red hues spilling through the open doorway that led to an ominous hallway. Pam knew by the sounds, there was no mistaking, it led to the den of Sally’s torture. The Sawyer ghouls were in the peak of their malevolent deviltry. Slowly and silently, Pam crept on her right side, which was still functioning, dragging her wounded, almost lifeless body toward the open doorway and the screen door. Like a wounded prey hoping to escape the salivating jaws of the famished jackal, Pam pulled her way across the longest twelve feet of a drenched floor of slimy liquid she would ever know. Miraculously, all the while, her mind remained in a suspended state of protection, perhaps led by some angels, denying what its core knew it to be, only too well. It was the blood of her beloved.

As she reached the last foot, her right arm and fingers outstretched, she touched the bottom of the Sawyer’s side back screen door. Fearing the telling hinge’s squeak might spoil her exodus, with her innate senses peaked, Pam drew her fingers across a large puddle of the sticky liquid nearest her, scooping up a small amount, and rubbing it over the bottom hinge. She stopped and listened, but knew there was no need to hesitate further, she had to go now. The Sawyers were in an orgasmic state by now, drunk on their delight, enjoying more and more what lay ahead for their ultimate sacrifice, the deeds they would all play together as one, to feast upon this tasty blonde goddess of sweet flesh. Pam listened every moment with deft precision for the slightest footstep, or movement, praying not to be discovered. Ever so slowly, she pushed open the screen door, as she pulled her body further, on to the outside, and across the tiny porch stoop. With the pain surging through her back, she managed to gently roll herself down, using only her right side, her right arm, and hip, to steady her. One by one, on to each of the four short steps, cringing with each movement, until finally, she found herself sitting in the damp grass. It was all so surreal, but she suddenly realized she was indeed OUT! Out!

The late evening dew hung heavy in the night air. The moon was a waning, gibbous moon, meaning it was only a day past the full moon, and that is when Pam lifted herself up, this time ignoring the pain, gulping her first real breath of grateful fresh air. Vaguely, she recalled trying to escape a morbid room of death and bones, and a caged, squawking chicken, running and being caught, but this time, she would not be stopped! Her blood-soaked shorts and swimsuit clung to her, as she began to limp like a little-wounded deer, dragging her left leg and holding her left arm, sometimes stumbling, but desperately continuing on, walking away as fast as she could. Away from the sound of that wretched generator, that elusive siren sound that had lured she and Kirk toward it, much like tiki lanterns on a shore, luring unsuspecting, weary traveler’s ships, offering Kirk and Pam false hopes of finding gasoline. In the end, it brought only terror and death.

The ground beneath her feet felt moist and soothing between her toes, and each step drew her further and further to freedom. In the moonlight, Pam recognized the path the two young lovers had so casually run along together earlier in the afternoon sun. They had merely been looking for a place to swim, to cool off from the intense heat, innocent young lovers wanting to share an hour alone. Instead, look what they found. Innately, she knew the direction she had to go, as she passed the shed filled with ghost cars, then the sunflowers she had touched that very afternoon. She’d covered about 100 yards when she finally stopped to catch her breath, still deep in fear, she quickly looked back again, as she’d already done a hundred times, fearing one of them would come up behind her, and snatch her back. In the moonlight, Pam saw the windmill standing tall, and reaching up into the clear dark sky covered in stars. Even from a distance, she could hear the faint whispering sounds of the blades as they turned. They would always haunt her.  

  Thursday, August 16, just two nights before, she and Sally had decided to leave around 4 PM, beat the Houston traffic, and so they headed out. Traveling light, with just a couple of backpacks and a cooler of water and cokes, they loaded her faithful VW bus, hit the 610 Loop, and eventually hooked up to Highway 290, for their weekend in Austin. Both were so excited. Saturday, Sally and Jerry would drive southeast of Austin, the 50 miles to Luling, to pick up her cousin, Franklin, for a little side trip the five of them would take up to the north of Austin, only about 20 miles, to Round Rock. They were going to see the Hardesty family’s old abandoned homestead before the property was sold off. Sally’s dad, William “Bill” Hardesty, and Franklin’s dad, Cecil, had been arguing about it for the last five years. If William got his way, it would be sold within the next year.

In ’73, Round Rock was a sleepy little country community that had grown to a population of 2,800. In the 1950s the Interstate-35 corridor had changed the sleepy town into a thriving community, bringing businesses, and the population grew to 1,700. Formerly home to Native American tribes of Tonkawas, Kiowas, Tawakoni, Comanches, and several others, in 1851, white settlers chose to settle near the large anvil-shaped “round rock” that sits in the middle of the river and marked the low water crossing on Brushy Creek. After the Civil War, Confederate soldiers came to settle there. Jessie Chisholm began moving cattle from South Texas through Brushy Creek up to Abilene, Kansas, forming what would later come to be known as the “Old Chisholm Trail.” In 1878 the Texas Rangers followed outlaw-train robber, Sam Bass, and his gang after they had robbed the Ft Worth to Cleburne Train, cornering them in downtown Round Rock, in the famous “Sam Bass Shootout,” and killing Bass. In the mid-1990s, Dell Computer chose Round Rock as the home of their headquarters, and today the population has ballooned to over 100,000. The Hardesty property is located on the outskirts of Round Rock, a half mile west of I-35, and settled after the Civil War by Sally’s great, great, grandfather, Confederate Colonel George Hardesty, who hailed from Tennessee. The Sawyer clan had moved to Round Rock, coming from Plains, Wisconsin, where they had lived previously, near their relatives the Gein family, a name you may recognize for the gruesome murders committed by their cousin, Ed “Eddie” Gein, back in 1956.

Sally and Franklin were bummed. They had both spent all her childhood summers and a lot of holidays at the Hardesty place, until just before their 11th birthdays, when priorities quite naturally would soon change, as they were both growing older. Going to the country didn’t hold quite the allure that make-up, shopping at the mall, parties, football games, and going to Galveston beach, held for kids. Also, just at that time, Grandpa had his stroke and died, and Grandma began to fade, too. For Franklin, things changed in a very sad and different way. Franklin had been in a freak accident with a horse that had left him crippled, paralyzing him from the waist down, when a horse had stepped on his spine. He had been only 12, and his life was forever changed, leaving him bitter and helpless. Sally and Franklin, cousins, and both “only children,” had always been close, and she carried a great amount of guilt, a guilt that Franklin would never release her from.  Sally and Pam had been lifelong friends in Houston. Their moms had grown up living next door to each other and remained close friends for years. In their sophomore year, when they began to drive, became mobile, and began to spread their wings. Many a summer day, Pam or Sally borrowed one of their family’s cars and headed south from Houston on I-45, to drive the short 55 miles to the Galveston seawall. Mrs. Hardesty would pack them a lunch and off they flew for an afternoon of baking in the warm summer sun. When they graduated high school, they both decided to go to the University of Houston. Pam moved in with their good friend, Missie Peters, and took a part-time job, while Sally lived at home, but she spent all her weekends at Pam and Missie’s apartment off Montrose Avenue, nearby.

Jerry and Kirk were also lifelong friends. Their dad’s had both served in the 157th Infantry in WW II together, one of the first divisions to go into Dachau. Their intense war experiences would bond them for the rest of their lives. What they saw in Dachau they would never share with their friends or loved ones, but they would often stay up late into the night talking together quietly about their days in the Army when the families would visit one another in Texas or New Jersey. There was no need in talking about such things with women and children. Their scars were deep, but men didn’t talk about things back then, they kept them inside. The two families saw one another often over the years, always exchanging Christmas cards. Both sons, Kirk, the younger of the three Mallory brothers, and Jerry, being the third child, surrounded by his three sisters, and the only son for the Martino’s, had clicked from their earliest days as toddlers. They spent several summers visiting one another’s homes. The Mallory’s, Irish Catholics, settling in Houston, where Francis "Smitty" Mallory, had taken a job with Shell Oil, right after the war, then climbing up the ranks over the years. The Martino’s, of Italian heritage, and also Catholics, were both from New Jersey and met through family friends when Mr. Martino had come home on leave in ‘42. They married two months after his discharge at the end of the war. Frank Mallory would serve as his army buddy, Sal’s best man.

Sally and Jerry met at a Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young concert at the Fillmore East, in June of ’70, when they recorded their “Four Way Street” album. Sally flew to NY with Missie. They were both huge fans, and so was Jerry, who was from New Jersey, across the bridge, and attending NYU. They didn’t know each other but met by happy accident. Sally got separated from Missie and their friends from NY after the concert. Jerry and his pals had been sitting right behind Sally and her friends and had been flirting during the concert, Jerry teasing them about their Texas accents. He ended up taking Sally back to her hotel, and the rest is history. He was hooked, and so was Sally. They were both tortured all the rest of ’70 and ’71, wanting to be closer, but they were determined to hold the relationship together. Jerry flew to see her in Houston, or flew Sally to NY, as often as possible. Jerry switched from NYU and moved to Austin that next summer. He picked Austin because his friend, Kirk was there, and it was only 3 hours from Sally in Houston. His parents nearly split a gut when he left NJ for Texas but felt a little better since Kirk was there, and once they met Sally, they pretty much got it right off the bat. She was such a little knockout, a real Texas charmer, and after all, they wanted their only son to be happy. Even though they also had three daughters, back then, girls didn’t really seem to count, certainly not to take over the family business. Maybe that was because they really didn’t count, not like sons did. They just didn’t… not yet anyway. That was to come later. Anyway, Jerry’s folks always figured he’d want to move back to NJ and run his dad’s jewelry business, so they loosened their grip and gave in to his desire for a little freedom. He was young.

Martino’s Jewelers was very, very big in NJ, but Jerry wanted to do other things, things he never mentioned to his mom and dad. He was a natural born performer and a real comedian. He got into performing in Austin, occasional gigs in Houston, and just took the minimum business classes to stay enrolled, to please his folks. Also, so they’d keep the money coming in. Don’t worry, they had plenty of dough, and he was a great kid with a big heart, not some user spoiled brat. Everybody loved Jerry, and if you didn’t know who Martino’s Jewelers was, you’d never suspect Jerry had come from a little gold mine. However, he did have some nice jewelry, and he was a natural in business, like his dad, Sal, who’d built the business from the ground up. Eventually, Sally had some nice jewelry, too. On Christmas of ’72, they flew back to Jersey for the holidays, and he gave Sally a beautiful diamond drop necklace. On her birthday in May of ’73, he gave her some diamond stud earrings to match. Everyone knew a ring was coming soon. Another reason it never seemed like Jerry was going back to Jersey was that Sally was a die-hard Texas girl, through and through, and she and her mom were especially close. But, the biggest reason Jerry wasn’t going back to Jersey, besides the fact he hated the cold ass winters, as he fell under the spell of that old Austin magic. Back then, Austin was just this cool, sleepy little hip college town, that was already a mecca for music, a little weird, and just downright magical. Jerry loved it, everybody loved it. So did Sally, and as soon as she graduated, their secret plan was she’d move to Austin, too. Jerry and Sally burned up a lot of gas going back and forth from Austin to Houston, and vice versa, in ’72, and racked up some serious phone bills the entire 3 years, as they waited.

Pam and Kirk had been dating ever since the previous June 25, 1972, a little over a year before that last day. Kirk had come with Jerry to Houston to see the Rolling Stones. They planned to stay at Sally’s, and since Pam loved the Stones, Jerry had purchased a fourth ticket for her. It was all a plan to set Pam and Kirk up, but without mentioning it to either of them. Sally figured if they just kept it casual, who knew, maybe they just might hit it off. Pam and Kirk had met briefly the previous ’71 at Kirk’s Christmas party in Austin, but both had been dating other people. By outward appearances, it seemed like there was no chemistry on either side. Pam lived in Houston, was on the hippie, spiritual-astrology side, studying to become a speech therapist, and Kirk was in his second year at UT, with plans of becoming a serious architect, and wound a little tighter than Pam. This time they were both free, and both were only taking a few hours of classes that summer. Pam was there when Jerry and Kirk got to Sally’s house, dressed in her new pink hip hugger bell bottoms, and a sexy white crop top. Kirk liked what he saw this time. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, this time. He’d been studying hard, wanting to finish up, and get into graduate school by the fall semester of ’74. With the grades he was making he was bound to get a scholarship. Kirk’s parents were pleased as punch that their youngest son was doing so well. The four smoked a big fat joint before they left for the concert, and the tightly strung Kirk loosened up, along with the rest of the group.

As they drove to the concert that steamy June night in Jerry’s van, Sally smiled over at Jerry as he was driving. Jerry smiled back, and looked in his rear view at Pam and Kirk, chit-chatting away. When they overheard them laughing hysterically over Kirk’s complete inability to form a coherent thought when Pam had asked Kirk who he preferred of the three architect’s, I.M. Pei, Phillip Johnson, or Frank O. Gehry, they all cracked up. It was a very good joint they had shared. The evening was off and running. The Stones killed that night, and the crowd went wild. “Brown Sugar” never sounded so good. By the time they got to “Satisfaction,” they were all up dancing, singing, and shouting the lyrics right into one another’s faces, as loud as they could. When they played, “Gimme Shelter,” Kirk slid his arm around Pam’s small back, running his hand up and down, feeling her smooth soft skin, and pulled her to him. They kissed long and hard for the first time. Pam would remember that night, and that kiss, for the rest of her life. It was all kind of weird, but not really, more like an almost, meant-to-be type thing. Kirk didn’t stay at Sally’s that night, he stayed with Pam, and for the rest of the weekend, both missing summer classes on Monday, when he and Jerry returned to Austin late in the afternoon. Pam came to Austin the next weekend, and their relationship steadily progressed from there. They always looked forward until the next time they could be together. They were looking forward to that weekend, and some more fun times with Jerry and Sally, even if they’d have to put up with Franklin, it was worth it. Franklin could be a real whiner, and it was going to be scorching hot. Jerry’s AC was out, and the weather forecast said it would get up to around 95, or more, every day, and gas could be a giant, big hassle on the weekends in those days. The now abandoned Hardesty place was considered a small mansion, back when it was built by her great great great grandfather Hardesty in 1859. It was described as a “large stately summer home,” in the 1950s, when Sally, Franklin, and Pam had gone to stay with the Hardesty grandparents in the summers.

On the way to Austin, on Thursday, August 16, as Pam and Sally were tooling up Highway 290, singing to their favorite Rod Stewart hits, they were laughing and giggling between lyrics. “Oh, Maggie I couldn’t have tried anymore…” They knew each and every lyric of every song, “Reason To Believe,” “Maggie May,” “You Wear It Well,” “I Know, I’m Losin’ You.” Stopping off at their old friend, Missie’s house in Buda, 20 miles south of Austin, they arrived around 7:30 PM, and the three friends went out for some Mexican food and margaritas at a little cafe nearby. The girls all missed getting together, and sat around chatting, going to sleep around 1 AM, after earlier using Missie’s phone to call Kirk and Jerry to arrange their weekend plans to visit the Hardesty property.

They synced plans for meeting Kirk and Jerry Friday afternoon. Kirk and Jerry were both in classes at UT until around 2 PM, so after they had breakfast with Missie, Pam and Sally had plans to go for a swim and spend the day at Barton Springs, one of their favorite places in Austin. The guys would join them after class. They filled the VW bus up with gas before they went to the springs. Jerry and Sally would be picking up Franklin early, around 9 AM Saturday morning, then swing by to pick up Pam and Kirk around 11 AM, then head to Round Rock. Jerry lived near Barton Springs, in the Travis Heights area, in south Austin, always considered one of the grooviest places in Austin to hang your hat. So popular today, its become too crowded, loaded with traffic, bumper to bumper, but still one of the coolest parts of the city. Kirk’s cozy garage apartment was near campus, in central Austin. His car was in the shop, so he was without wheels, but no problem, because Pam would have her bus. Jerry’s van was big enough to hold Franklin and his wheelchair. Sally had promised Franklin, and there was no way in hell she could disappoint him. Jerry was such a good guy, maybe even a saint, especially when it came to Sally, and whatever Sally wanted, Sally got.

After Friday classes, Kirk took a shuttle bus over to Lamar Boulevard and 12th street. As was common in '73, he hitched a short ride the rest of the way up Lamar Boulevard to meet Pam and Sally at Barton Springs. Jerry came, too, but only after he filled up his van with gas, because it was Friday, and gas rationing had gone into effect that spring. It took longer than expected, and he wasn’t even allowed to buy a full damn tank. There were long lines. With a full tank of gas, Jerry figured they could just make it south to Luling to pick up Franklin, come back by Kirk's near campus, then, head north up to Round Rock, make it back to Austin, then back to Luling to drop Franklin off, to make the whole trip. With only three-quarters of a tank, he knew they'd be cutting it really close. That is if they were lucky. It was all cutting it close, but the boys figured whatever happened, they could some way, use Pam’s bus, which they might have to do, squeeze Franklin and his chair in somehow, and get Franklin back home to Luling, Saturday night, then drive back to Austin, come hell or high water. Damn! He hoped that wouldn't happen. They all agreed, one day of Franklin’s whining and bitching, was all any of them could take.

The spring of 1973, President Nixon had asked that all gas stations “voluntarily not sell gasoline on Saturday nights or Sundays.” As it turned out at least 90% of them had complied, and to make things worse, many simply ran out by Friday afternoon. This also translated into very long lines on all weekdays, plus rationing. To put things into perspective, there was a world crisis and oil prices were shooting sky high. In January of ’73 the stock market had crashed. Every month seemed a little worse than the last, and inflation was in full bloom. Things were getting nasty in the middle east. Just three months later, in October ’73, the problems in the middle east blew up when Syria and Egypt launched a surprise attack on Israel, and Israel went on “full nuclear alert.” Nixon would order a strategic airlift of weapons to Israel after the Soviet Union sent arms to Syria and Egypt. The things that happened in Round Rock, Texas, the tiny country suburb of magical Austin, would also change history forever, and not in a good way.

Pam loved studying astrology and was pretty darn good at it. It grounded her and kept her in tune with the universe. She and Kirk craved their time together and had spent the night talking and making love Friday night. Waking early in his cozy little nest was a joy for Pam. She looked around, lying still, while Kirk slept, with his arms wrapped around her, Pam surveyed the apartment. It was so beautifully perfect. Kirk had impeccable taste. Nothing expensive, he had a knack for taking nothing, and suddenly it became something special. They often spent their precious weekends together scouring garage sales for hidden treasures. She slipped quietly out of bed and put on one of Kirk’s shirts. Pam loved the smell of them and quietly put on some coffee, making a nice cup of mud to enjoy out on the small terrace, breathing it all in. There were a few white impatience blooming in a planter box hanging off the side of the terrace, a red bromeliad Pam had brought for Kirk, as a part of his birthday present late last June. It was still looking pretty good, and there was a cool stag horn fern they’d picked up last month at a small nursery in Marble Falls. The birds and squirrels were all busy, and there was the slightest breeze coming from the South. The trees were all healthy and strong, green and full.   They’d talked at length about Pam moving up next summer, as soon as they both graduated when they’d look for a bigger place. That made her a little sad. She loved this apartment. They had such amazing memories here. This is where they really fell in love, but Kirk was right, and she agreed, so it didn’t matter. As long as they were together, nothing else mattered. She opened her Astrology book and read all their horoscopes, hers, Kirk’s, Sally’s and Jerry’s first, and then Franklin’s. Wow! It wasn’t looking so great for anyone. Nothing jumped out, but then, she got a little worried. Saturn was in retrograde, and that was NOT good. All kinds of bad things could happen if you weren’t careful so she would be keeping her senses wide open that day, that was for sure! Reading further, she knew it would be a bright night since the full moon had just passed, so tonight there would be a waning moon. If Franklin weren’t going they might have even camped out somewhere, and look up at the stars, wrapped in each others arms. Then she felt awful, for being so mean and selfish, and stopped herself from thinking about that any further. “What a little wench I can be,” she thought. She loved Franklin, and deep down was glad they were taking him, sort of, if he just wouldn’t complain so dang much. Maybe he wouldn’t today since he was so excited about going to the Hardesty place. It would be fun she told herself. It was going to be fun! So deep in thought, she hadn’t even noticed, Kirk was standing behind her smiling, noticing her furrowed brow, all full of worry. He asked her how she was, as he bent down to kiss her good morning on her forehead. She smiled back and melted. ”Fine,” she said, as she reached up and pulled him toward her, running her hands along his warm neck and back, whispering, "Just fine."

  Now, late that same Saturday night, things were anything but “fine.” Just as Pam had finally reached the dirt road where the van had been parked, she was feeling as though she might pass out. She knew she would soon have to stop and rest for a few minutes, but her terror was driving her further. Peeking out from the brush, she listened for any movements. Slowly, she began to continue by the side of the road, close to the grass, constantly looking up and down the road. It came to Pam as the minutes passed, she could no longer hear the men’s laughter and taunts… nor Sally’s blood-curdling screams. Ohhhh, Sally… Sally, noooo! Her closest friend since she was born, like two sisters, joined at the hip her whole life. As she was thinking about Sally and gasping for breath, amidst her weeping, she lost her footing, landing face down on the ground, Pam began to sob uncontrollably. A minute went by. How did this all happen? The grass felt cool on her face, but as she turned her body to roll on her side, a throbbing pain, worse than she had felt before, shot through her back. In her excitement and hysteria, it finally dawned on her that there was something horribly wrong with her back, and just as her memories began to replay, she remembered that monster had lifted her up, and whatever happened to her back, had happened then. Could she even get up again? Pam waited several minutes calming herself and telling herself she had to do it. She had to do it now, and as soon as possible… to get up and try to remember which way she and Kirk had gone when they left the van. Kirk. Oh, no! He was dead. She knew it. Her stomach churned, and then it felt like all the blood drained out of her. She felt lifeless. She couldn’t think about that now. Not now! She had to stop and think a moment, get her groundings, save herself, and Sally, and get to Franklin.

Then, her fears surfaced all over again. She shook her head, tried to take a deep breath, but the pain in her back and side cut like a knife. She now fully realized something was really affecting her breathing. She took small, shallow breaths, but with each one, she only struggled more. Tears came again from the pain, but when she closed her eyes for only a moment, horrific scenes kept flashing through her mind. Her head was so dizzy and her breathing was getting harder and harder. She had to calm herself.

Franklin would be waiting at the van… and that was when she realized, poor Franklin must be all alone! She had to find the van before she could go to get help. What was she going to tell Franklin? Oh, NO!! She had to pull herself together. Now! At least if she found the van she could help Franklin, but how in the hell would she do that? Franklin must be hysterical! She was in no shape to help anybody, she was hardly able to put one foot in front of her. Her blood was pumping, and her adrenaline level shot up tenfold. It was just then she realized that she had almost made it to the van. She could get some water. Water! She was dying of thirst. She could change into her jeans and a top, and get out of these god-awful drenched shorts and bathing suit, and get her tennis shoes. Her feet were killing her. The summer sticker-burrs had cut her feet, and she was suddenly feeling a chill. Again, she thought of water which she needed so badly. Oh, God, she was so damned thirsty. She knew the interstate was to the right, and not too far, not even a mile the other direction to the feeder road, or less, and the van was close, maybe a quarter of a mile, or less. Oh, damn! What was she going to tell Franklin? Pam had no idea what to do. For a moment she thought of running the other direction, get to the interstate, because she was so afraid of what she would tell him. Out loud she said, “Pam, you fucking little coward!!!” Moving in what she thought was the direction of the van, she went left in the grass, dragging her still numb left leg. She again felt she would throw up, but there was nothing left in her stomach. Collapsing on the ground, she began to cry and dry heave, at the same time choking. As she struggled to fight the pain from her back, wincing and moaning simultaneously, her brain began to spin.

It felt like she was in some fucking horror movie, but she wasn’t. This was real! She had to hurry to get some help, and get Sally out of that nightmare she was trapped in! Was she still alive? No way she’d let herself think she wasn’t. Who could ever kill Sally? She felt herself dry heave again and began to calm herself as best she could. Stay calm, damn it! What the hell good will freaking out do? NONE! Nothing! As she struggled to breathe and regain her composure, Pam realized she had been afraid to look back, but she was compelled. Finding herself by the side of the road, out of the brush she began to feel something move near her. Was it in the grass? What was that sound? Were they on to her and following? Like a bullet, a jackrabbit shot out of the grass and crossed the road, right in front of her. Ducking into the grass, she fell, and listened again, trying to stop the wheezing and gasping for breath as best she could. She ran from the road and back into the brush, further up toward the direction she thought the van was, peering through the grass. Fearing they might be following her when she stopped, she looked back. She no longer saw the house or the lights inside at all, just brush, darkness and the dirt road. She couldn’t see much of anything but darkness. As Pam stepped back on to the road, she looked up the dirt road and tried to focus her tired eyes. In the distance, just a little further up, she could see it was the van. For a moment she felt a tinge of relief. She’d made it!!

The lights inside were on, and it looked like the headlights were on, pointing the direction Jerry had left it when they’d realized they’d run out of gas, but she saw nothing of Franklin. That had been when everything first fell apart, and Jerry had started yelling at Franklin, and then at Sally. Not like Jerry to ever do that. He never yelled, and especially, never at Sally. So where the hell was Franklin? Was he out of his chair and laying down? It was possible, but how could he do that on his own? Nothing made sense. It was so eery and quiet. She grew more suspicious. What if They had discovered she was gone and were waiting for her up there in the van? What if They had come and had taken Franklin? Her frantic sobbing increased, as she frantically limped back into the brush to collect her thoughts. Shit! Shit! Shit! What if they had found poor Franklin! Fuck! No!! As quietly as she could, Pam laid down in the brush for a moment to watch. She waited.

In a few minutes, Pam decided to creep through the brush, along the edge of the road, and stay completely out of site, fifteen feet or so off the road. The grass and brush cut her legs. She struggled to pull herself on to her knees and then back on to her feet again. As she slowly approached the van, she stayed completely silent, forcing herself not to breathe. There wasn’t a sound, except the crickets, and her own labored breathing. She saw no one. Franklin wasn’t in the van. Franklin wasn’t in front of it, or anywhere around it. Where the fuck was Franklin? After waiting for what seemed like an hour, but in reality, it was just 5 minutes, Pam looked inside the open side door of the abandoned van. No Franklin! She was completely panicked now. As quickly as she could, she reached inside and cut off the headlights, then struggled in through the open side doors, and climbed inside. With all the strength she had left, she half stood up to reach the inside light, and fell back down on the floor of the van, cringing in mind-numbing pain. She couldn't reach it and almost passed out for a moment. Damned fucking light, she had to turn it off!

She laid back on the floor of the van, behind the driver’s side, with her legs hanging off the lip of the doorway. She eased her way over and reached underneath the back seat where she and Kirk had sat together earlier that day. There, underneath the seat was a gallon of water they had brought along for their hot day‘s fun adventure. Kirk always thought of everything. Pam wanted to cry more, but couldn’t. She thought of Franklin’s prophetic, yet sarcastic remark, “Oh, yeah, we’re gonna have some fun,” remembering how he’d almost spit the words out as she’d climbed into the van when they’d picked them up that morning at Kirk’s apartment. “How odd,” she thought, and now remarked to herself out loud. She struggled more, yanked the top off the water and drank too fast, choking on it, and again, the pain. It was a toss-up. What was worse, being thirsty beyond all thirst, or the incredible pain? It was all painful she decided, so drink, and die choking. In addition to the other bottles, she knew Jerry and Sally had brought, that they’d stashed in the back, the irony was that there was probably plenty of water, but no gas. Fuck.

The ironies combined with the harsh realities forced Pam to sit up and take note. Perching momentarily in the side open doorway, listening to the steady hum of the crickets, looking up at the quiet sky filled with stars, the waning moon staring back, she began to think of what she had to do next. She needed her clothes. Pam pulled her legs into the van and turned slowly around so she could use her right arm to reach her backpack. It was under the back seat, where she and Kirk had sat. Grimacing, she moaned and dragged her backpack toward her across the floor. Then, with great care, she turned herself back around with her legs again hanging out the side of the van, her tiptoes just touching the ground, grabbing the front driver's seat, she pulled herself forward, and surveyed the quiet brush, looking down the dark dirt road that led to the interstate. Again, she heard and saw nothing. Everything felt spooky and dead quiet. It was strange she’d grabbed her backpack that morning instead of leaving it at Kirk’s place, uncanny, another lucky stroke she thought. She reached in the backpack and pulled out her jeans lying on top with her blue tee shirt, both wrapped neatly together, and on the side compartment, she found her white socks, along with her white tennis shoes, everything as she had planned it. Except for a few unexpected changes, but all were there together, and tidily packed for her perfect Sunday’s change. It was to be a day she and Kirk were to celebrate her birthday. What time was it? As she again looked up at the moon, Pam realized it must be August 19th by now, and just past her 21st birthday.

Sitting in the van, she became frightened again and decided it was safer not being inside it, so she made her way across to the other side of the road into the tall grass, taking the water bottle with her, limping, and dragging her left leg. She sat down, and slowly peeled off the red shorts, and took a breath. After a moment Pam managed to then slip out of the swimsuit. She poured the water over her head, feeling it run down over her head and body. Pam shivered in the night air. Washing off all the blood as best she could, it was bittersweet because she knew it was Kirk’s blood, and that she could never reconcile it. Pouring the water on her legs and thighs, she rubbed them until she felt most of the blood was washed off. Warm tears began to fall for all that she had lost that day. Aching, she pulled on her clothes, all the while, her mind was racing. When she struggled to pull her blue tee shirt over her head, and reached her arm through the right short sleeve, she couldn’t pull her limp left arm into its sleeve. It took forever, until finally, she pulled her left arm through, using her right arm, that thankfully was still working. Pam thought of the day Kirk had bought it for her last May. She had to stop thinking about Kirk! There was no time for that now. It was time to move.

Realizing there was no way she could tie her tennis shoes because she couldn’t make her left hand or finger do anything, afraid of tripping, she left the tennis shoes and socks in the grass and went back to find her thongs in her backpack. She stumbled and somehow slid into them. Her feet were dirty again from the dirt road. Damn! How did this all happen?

From the time they met that idiot hitchhiker, it had all gone so terribly wrong. If they’d just called somebody when they were at that weird ass gas station, where that old man and the imbecile, who kept washing the windshield over and over, while Jerry and Kirk just kept laughing their butts off at them, and the old geezer saying, "We got no gas." No fucking gas! They were almost on empty when Jerry turned down that damned dirt road. That’s why Sally started shouting at Jerry. She knew it was the wrong thing to do, but she was, after all, right and Jerry was wrong. Then, Kirk got pissed, too. It was so fucking hot, and everyone was going a little crazy at that point. Why? They could have called anybody in Austin to come and get them, and they would have. Why had she and Kirk suddenly left to go swimming? They could have walked to the Interstate and called Missie, somebody, somebody to come and get them, but instead, they’d stupidly gone off. It was all just to get away from Sally and Jerry’s arguing. She’d never seen them argue like that. So many dumb, stupid things had happened that day, and now nothing, absolutely nothing could ever make anything right again. Pam thought about her premonition when she’d read that Saturn was in retrograde. Always listen to your instincts she thought. From now on she would, she told herself. Goosebumps went up and down her body. A feeling coming deep inside her gut bubbled to the surface. Right then, Pam knew staying here much longer would probably, and quite possibly be the stupidest thing she could ever do. She had no idea where Franklin was, and she had to get away from that van right now.

The universe was tapping her on her shoulder, saying Go! Pam, go! With that, she grabbed the seven Oreo cookies Franklin had left on the floor. Now, she was starving. Beside it was a brown paper bag with grease stains all over it. It was the bag of BBQ with one half eaten sausage inside. Yuck! She threw it across the van. Pam put an oreo in her mouth and began to chew it, and then quickly stuffed the crumpled bag of cookies into the front of her jeans, and went to the back of the van. She found one bottle with about a third of a gallon of water left, took another big sip of water, took that with her, too, and began limping down the road. As she staggered down the road toward the freeway, she was constantly looking over her shoulder, especially as she passed the cut-off where she thought she’d come up from the path toward the house, she moved back into the grass on the other side of the road, looking for Franklin, or Them.

One thing she knew, if a car came down the road she wouldn’t take any chances of flagging it down. She’d hide. It was too close to that house. They might drive down this road looking for her since it ran behind the house. But, when she got to the Interstate, she’d take her chances and flag down any car she could. What other choice did she have for God's sake? She’d make it to a phone and call Missie first thing. It was the only phone number she knew by heart. She could also try to make it to Aunt Ruby's over in Taylor, maybe. She knew she could find it. Aunt Ruby would freak, but she was always cool, and Pam could always tell her anything, unlike her mom, who she never confided anything to. OK, yeah, then she’d call the DPS. Should she call the DPS first? Maybe so. Of course, them first!!! Then, Missie, or just get to Aunt Ruby's! Missie was 50 miles away in Buda, but Missie was a wonder-woman, and she’d damn-well fly to get to her and Sally, anytime, anywhere. Oh good God, she had to tell Missie about everything… and about Sally… and then call Sally's mom and dad, and Kirk’s… Her mind was racing. Sally! Sally’s mom and dad… she couldn’t handle thinking about the others she would have to call, it was all too damned overwhelming. Besides, who the hell would believe any of it?!?! She didn’t even believe it! What the fuck- ever, she just had to find a damn phone!

How much time had passed? Pam thought her heart would jump out of her body, it was beating so fast. She cursed herself, then battled to be grateful she’d made it out, then guilty, and then all at the same time, over and over, the thoughts would swirl through her brain. In reality, it had been almost two and a half hours that had passed since she’d climbed out of that freezer. Looking ahead, and back down the road, Pam thought about something she’d read recently, about how humans respond when they’re in fear, an article called, “The Body's Fear Response.” A chill went up and down her spine, remembering how drawn she’d been to the article, so struck, it now felt like a flashing neon sign. Compelled, she’d almost memorized one part of it, and when Kirk called her that night, she had read it to him on the phone. What was it? Something like… “When we find ourselves under intense pressure, fear unleashes reserves of energy that normally remain inaccessible. We become, in effect, superhuman. Under acute stress, the body's sympathetic nervous system prepares the body for sustained, vigorous action. It's the biological equivalent of opening the throttle of an engine.”

Pam felt a surge and she began to hobble faster. It was for sure, she’d made it this far, she’d make it the rest of the way, and she would find a phone, call the DPS, get Sally, then find Franklin, and maybe, just maybe Jerry was OK, too. Having such hope she couldn’t feel the pain anymore. She could see some lights up ahead, was it I-35? It was! She never thought she’d be so glad to see I-35 again in her life. Pam had always hated fricking I-35, too much damned traffic, but now… she LOVED fricking I-35, like she's never loved it before!!!  End Pam Lives! Part II 🚀💋🎥🪝🪚⛓ 🐓

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