Billy Don't: A Thadeus T. Throckmorton III Production

By William Baker

Billy Don't, a novel, takes place in Oakland, and other parts of California during the 1930's. It is a story of the conflicts and behaviors which take place in a young boy who is placed with his older sister and younger brother in a boarding home run by the Blair's.

The conflict comes form the evangeslistic preaching of Mrs. Blair who constantly tells Billy, "Your sole will turn black" or "God will send you to the Devil", and the other understandings he has gained from his grandmother who has taught, "God sees the good in you."

Billy's often wild and vicious behaviors are driven by his hatred for Mrs. Blair.

It is a story of young boy's desperate search for love and understanding.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBookIt.com
• Release date: Apr 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781456605360

William Baker

WILLIAM F. BAKER, PH.D. (New York, NY) is president emeritus of WNET, New York's PBS station, and a professor at Fordham University. He teaches Understanding the Profession: The Business of the Performing Arts in the 21st Century to students from Juilliard and Fordham.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Bill Munroe's excitement increased as the miles fell away bringing him closer to Oakland and home. The four-day trip to Monterey and Carmel had been many times more successful than Bill's wildest expectations.   He was elated and anxious to tell his wife, Gertrude, of their good fortune.

Bill pressed hard on the brake pedal, slowing the heavy stately Reo automobile for the turn off 38th Avenue onto Lyon Avenue. A block after the turn, at the corner of Lyon and Ransom Avenues, the headlights shone on the driveway showing Bill his last turn of the heavy car.   He tiredly swung into the driveway, and braked the car to a stop, taking notice of the porch light left on for him. He shut off the engine, turned off the headlights, and leaned back in the seat, taking a long pull on the nearly finished Wing cigarette. The events leading up to the trip to Carmel rolled through his mind.

He remembered that Sunday afternoon more than three years before when Dan White, his carpenter foreman and regular fishing companion, suggested they could do a lot better fishing in the surfs of the Monterey Peninsula than the waters of the San Francisco beaches. Gert was sure against that first trip, he thought, taking another long pull on the cigarette, She must have thought we were going after something other than fish. He laughed aloud.

The sounds of the roaring surf, the warmth of the campfire and the horrible taste of Dan's home-made Prohibition brew came back to him. He sat staring out into the blackness of the night, reliving the hours of solitude and friendship that came with the weekends of camping on the beaches of Monterey.

His thoughts centered on Dan. He spoke as though Dan were there. It's been a strange three years, Dan. When you first mentioned going to Monterey to fish I thought you were a little nuts. But I've got to hand it to ya, the fishing was super. But, then I didn't stay with the fishing, did I? You're right about that. And I don't blame you for getting pissed.

But Hell, Dan, it wasn't that I didn't like your company, you damn sure know that. I just got caught up with the opportunities and beauty of Carmel and Monterey and had more fun chasing them than pulling fish from the sea. Shucks, t'wasn't that I didn't like your company or like to fish, but damn, sometimes other things just get to be more important. I wish you could have understood that. Bill knew he had lost a friend when Dan announced he was no longer going on the fishing trips.

Hey Dan, Bill called aloud as if his words would reach Dan on the wings of the wind, nothing personal old buddy, I just fell in love with Carmel. He jabbed the cigarette in the dashboard ashtray, putting out its fire, and snuffing out the memories of Dan.

Picking up the sheaf of papers at his side, he glanced at the unused fishing gear on the back seat, Heck with 'em, he said to himself, I'll get them in the morning. His thoughts switched to Gertrude, and his anxious desire to share with her the news he was bringing home.

With a light bounding step, aware of the hour, and the sleeping children, Bill entered the house, turned off the porch light, and quietly closed the front door, wondering if Gertrude was awake. A light darted from the master bedroom illuminated the hallway as if in answer to his question.

You're awake? he spoke softly.

Yes, I couldn't sleep, kept waking up. Aren't you awfully late? She propped herself up against the padded headboard.

Bill, smiling, stopped in the doorway and leaned against the door jam. Yeah, it just took longer than I expected.

You look like the cat who ate the canary. Got something to tell me? She smoothed the covers. Come, sit down and tell me all about it. Did you close the deal?

Yep. Signed, sealed and delivered. Both of 'em.

Both of them? What do you mean?

I closed the deal on the Carmel Cottage Courts. We can move in thirty days.

Okay, she said pushing the accomplishment aside, that's what you went down there to do. What is the other one?

Standing tall, with his chest thrown out, and his thumb stuck under his armpit, Bill announced, I got a contract to build an elementary school in Monterey.

Really? Her response registered suspicion. I didn't know you had bid on a school down there.

I hadn't. It's kind of a funny situation. I met a guy on the beach about three months ago who's also a building contractor, and we talked about the possibility of doing some work together as a sub to one another. Well, since then he bid on the school job, but also got into financial problems, and is on the edge of bankruptcy. So, they won't give him the prime job.

Bill moved to the edge of the bed and sat holding Gertrude's hand before continuing. But, guess what? When they told him he couldn't have the job, although his bid was the one they wanted, he threw in my name. I won't go into all the details, but essentially I assumed his bid, and he'll be working for me. How do you like that?

Oh, honey, that's wonderful. When do you have to start? I hope not until after we have moved. I sure don't want to do that job by myself.

I can start anytime within the next sixty days, but I must start no later than that, and have the school ready for next year. There won't be any trouble with the move.

I can't believe it. She squeezed his hand. You are magnificent.

Not bad for a four-day piece of work, huh?, especially when most everyone else is going bankrupt or standing in bread lines. You are right. No doubt about it.... I am magnificent. He leaned forward, lifted her face toward him and passionately kissed her. Care to find out?

Don't get any ideas. It is too late and you have to work tomorrow. She slid down into the bed.

The words it is too late hung in the air like suspended ice crystals. Bill slowly peeled off his shirt, his mood switched, You know Gertrude, if you could be just a little more condescending at times it would certainly be nice.

Oh, for who, You? She threw her body onto her side, her back to Bill.

Never mind, forget I mentioned it. His excitement was gone. Another business matter had been concluded. In their seven years of marriage that's what all of Bill's efforts were to Gertrude, business matters. Matters which counted in dollars and cents, and nothing else.

Can you get undressed in the dark? I want to get to sleep. You still didn't say why you were so late.

Bill shut off the light, ignoring the question.

It had been a year since Bill first revealed his thoughts of moving to Carmel. At the time Gertrude was very content with her life style as the social wife of the owner of Munroe Construction.

Then, as the Great Depression began to affect the local businesses and life at the country club fell to excuses for not attending, and after she made several trips to Carmel with Bill searching for business property opportunities, Gertrude softened her stand but held to one condition. She'd make the move providing they had membership in the local country club. As the trips to Carmel became more frequent and Bill's enthusiasm for the seaside beauty began to rub off on Gertrude, it was she who began pushing for an early relocation to the picturesque peninsula, although membership in the local country club remained a condition of the move. It was on this point that Bill and Gertrude found themselves far apart. Bill was interested in his work and those things which surrounded his working day. A social activity to him was casting a line into the surf with his working companions.

Bill Munroe was a frugal man with a strong set of values. He would say of himself, 'Tm dead set against borrowing or lending; neither the either shall I ever be. He dealt on a cash basis, and a man's word was his bond. Bill, although only thirty years of age, was an aggressive and well respected contractor who had managed to continue in business while other construction companies in the Bay Area were surrendering to the on rushing tide of depression. But, now he was completing construction of a school in Hayward, and with no other contracts to be had he too faced the limited options of a depraved economy. Yet, because of his belief and practice of dealing on a cash basis, he found himself in a position of financial advantage. We have leverage, he would say to Gertrude, and now is the time to use it." It was shortly after Bill had told Gertrude of his plan to move to Carmel that he began his fishing trips with Dan which, in fact, were searches for a business opportunity in the Monterey Peninsula area.

At first, the search proved to be discouraging. The Monterey Peninsula, along with the rest of the country, was feeling the effects of the Great Depression and business opportunities, while available, were of high financial risk. Bill's efforts to locate suitable housing were also less than favorable. Several months went by with Bill becoming more discouraged and wondering if his plan was to be fulfilled. After one particularly depressing trip and Dan's announcement that he was no longer going along, Bill suggested to Gertrude that they give up the idea.

Her response was quick. Oh, no you don't. I've already told my friends at the club that we are moving, and I'm not going to tell them different now. What's happened to all that leverage talk of yours?

That evening, after the Munroe's two children, Beth, age 5, and Billy, age 3, had been put to bed, Bill and Gertrude sat talking about their plan, the failing businesses in Oakland, and the need for a fresh start. They discussed the need for an opportunity to put their stored up leverage to an advantage and the practicality of relocating to an area of beauty and wealth. Both agreed with each other's evaluation of Carmel being the ideal place to raise their children and with their prospects of sharing in the pleasures of an affluent society. No, Gertrude concluded, We are not going to abandon our plan.

On the next trip to Carmel Bill left his fishing gear home and took Gertrude, leaving the two children with Bill's mother. When Bill traveled alone to Carmel he slept on the beaches, not because he couldn't afford a cabin, but because he loved the freshness of the salt air and the freedom of the beaches. Now, with his wife along, a cabin was a necessity. There's a nice set of cabins on the highway just outside of Carmel, he said as they passed through Monterey. We can stay there.

We can if they have a vacancy, responded Gertrude.

The place Bill chose was the Carmel Cottage Courts, a group of single overnight cabins snugly nestled among tall pine trees.

My, isn't this pretty, commented Gertrude as Bill turned off the highway into the courts. I wonder if they are modern?

I wouldn't say so, answered Bill, pointing to the center building displaying a large sign reading BATHHOUSE.

Humph. S'pose they have running water?

Maybe. You want to go on? We can go into town, to the hotel.

No. Let's ask what they have. I kind of like it here. It's very pretty.

Bill brought the car to a stop in front of the cabin marked OFFICE. I'll see what they have.

Rolling down her window, Gertrude watched Bill as he stepped from the car and walked to the office door. The gentle sea breeze, alive with the fragrance of the towering pines, filled the car and spoke to her senses. Rays of the late afternoon sun shimmered down through the pine bows and cast patterns upon the tan sandy soil. How quiet and serene, she thought. A gray squirrel jumped down from the nearest tree, extracted a seed from a fallen pine cone before bounding back up the tree to an overhanging limb. Gertrude watched as the squirrel, sitting on its haunches, cleaned and stored the seed in its cheek then descended for another. Oh, the children would love you. she said aloud. The sweet freshness of the gentle breeze upon her face and the soft rustling sound of the pine bows lay in the back of her mind as she took in the scene around her. The cabins appeared to be small yet inviting in their rustic style. She counted, Three over there in front of the bath house and three behind it It was a small court, she thought, very neatly laid out beneath the towering pines and obviously done so with preservation in mind. This cabin, she thought, must be where the owners live. It looks rather large, three bedrooms, maybe.

The office door opened and Bill came toward the car.

Do they have a cabin?

Yep. That one right there. He pointed to the cabin closest to the bath house. Good. That's the one I wanted. Bill got into the car. "How would you like all of these beautiful cabins and all that goes with them?

What in heaven for? To raise squirrels? Oh, Bill you should've seen the cute little gray squirrel which jumped down in front of the car to get a nut out of a pine cone. The children would have squealed with delight at seeing him.

Bill again asked his question, How would you like to own all this?

Are you serious?

Yep. The guy in there, he nodded his head toward the office, says they're for sale.

Well who would manage them? Certainly not us.

Why not? Nothing to it. He started the engine and slipped the clutch easing the car to the nearby cabin.

Bill, her voice was stern, we are not going to own nor manage these cabins. Thinking that Bill was possibly teasing her, she asked, Are' they really for sale or are you just kidding me?

I'm not kidding. They are for sale. I told Tim, that's his name, I'd talk to him while we are here.

Well, you weren't in there long enough to find out anything. Did he just come out and say they were for sale?

As a matter of fact he did. He asked me if we were touring, and when I told him no, that we were looking to settle in the area, he said they were for sale. He also mentioned something about a divorce and having to liquidate all assets. I thought I'd talk to him tomorrow.

Oh, Bill. I don't know. What would we do with them. We don't know anything about running a court.

Well, we can always learn.

Oh, Bill, you are impossible.

Well, it's a nice house. Looks like the other cabins from the outside, but it must be a lot larger .. We can take a look at it tomorrow. Okay?

Oh, I suppose so.

It was on their way home from Carmel after a full day of conversation with the owner of the cabins, and exploring the area that Gertrude said, I'm still not satisfied with his price. He's got to be hurting, and I don't believe his story of an unfaithful wife. As sure as it takes two chickens to make a stew, I'd bet he is the unfaithful one. She shifted her sitting position, bringing her body more squarely to Bill. Let's suppose for a minute that he is being sued for divorce and not the other way around. In that case she is going to get it all, and she doesn't want the property. She wants the money. You know what any decent judge will do, don't you? She didn't wait for an answer. He'll decree the courts to sell the property and distribute the money. Probably three-fourths to her, and one-fourth to him. She scooted back into the seat, facing the front of the car, her head tilted back onto the seat. After all she had six kids ....my God...and has to support them. I really don't believe his story, and I'm sure you can get his price down. She spun her head toward Bill. Why, did you see him perk up when you told him the sale would be on a cash basis? Oh, I just know he's playing some kind of game.

"Maybe .so. Come to think of it I did notice his reaction to the cash offer.

Kind’a gave himself away. Not much of a poker player. Do you think you can trust him?

I'm not worried about that. We'll handle everything through Pete, referring to the Munroe's lawyer.

Well, before we do anything you've got to get his price down.

Ya know Gertrude, I didn't think the price was unfair.

That doesn't make any difference. Whoever buys something because the price is fair? He's in a spot. I'm convinced I'm right, and you should get him down to his lowest dollar, even lower if possible.

Bill studied her last remark before asking, Are you sure you want to consider buying the court? Yes. Why do you ask? .

WelL, I sort of got the impression you're looking for a denial from him based on price.

How can you be so foolish? Of course I'm all for buying them, but at our price, not his. As a matter of fact, you may be surprised to learn that I like the idea of owning the courts. I'm not crazy about having to manage such an operation, but the added income could be very nice. And, the house is nice, even if it has only two bedrooms and looks like a cabin.

I can always add on a bedroom. Yes. I know.

CHAPTER TWO

Bill met several more times with the owner of the court before coming to an agreed selling price, which was also acceptable to Gertrude. She had been correct in her assessment of the situation. Papers were signed, the school in Hayward was completed, the Oakland house put up for sale, and arrangements concluded for relocating the family and business. The Munroe’s, with their two children, Beth 5 and Billy 3, moved to Carmel. The year was 1930.

Life took on new dimensions for the Munroe's. Happiness and contentment filled their lives, each devoted to the courts and their individual interests. For Bill it was establishing his business in Monterey. For Gertrude it was planning improvements to the courts and engaging herself in the social activities of the country club. Together they worked to improve the court.

Bill moved two small one-room cabins together making a large one-bedroom cabin equipped with modern toilet facilities, and he erected three additional one room modern cabins. In the sandy soil, he etched graciously flowing driveways through the towering pines and bordered them with Monterey slate rock forming flower beds. Gertrude nurtured the beds into plots of glorious blooming flowers which attracted both passers-by and members of the local horticultural society. The court took on beauty and a reputation of the place to stay in Carmel. By the end of the second year the courts were booked in advance and producing a handsome profit.

Bill's performance on his first contract in Monterey brought him additional contracts at a pace faster than local qualified workers could be found. He moved several of his old employees from Oakland and put them in charge of individual projects.   Although it was the years of the Great Depression, Bill Munroe had found success for his family and his friends. Beth and Billy loved the court where they were free to run and play, making pets of the squirrels and watching the deer come to lick the salt block set out by their Dad. The children's weekends were often spent on the nearby beaches jumping off and sliding down the high sand dunes when they were not busy building sand castles for the incoming tide to wash away.

When the mackerel were running, Bill would take Billy to the Monterey Pier where hundreds of fisherman, standing two and three deep suspended their long bamboo poles out over the surging water waiting for the mackerel to make a pass alongside the pier. As the fish moved in, the poles would roll up in one continuous wave, a mackerel on every hook. Bill cured his catch in a large wooden barrel of salt brine, to be enjoyed with an ample amount of homebrew supplied by his friends.

Early in the third year, Randolph, the third child and an unwanted surprise to Gertrude, was born. The new baby drastically altered Gertrude's attitude toward the court and her husband. I don't have time for anything, she would complain to Bill, who was now spending more time in Monterey with his successful business than the court. Gertrude's priorities gradually shifted away from the court, taking on an order of social events first, the baby second, the court third and her husband and family last.

Bill hired a day manager to run the court and to look after routine maintenance. Little by little, problems began to appear. Guests left without paying their bills. Drunken guests backed their cars over the flower beds and destroyed appurtenances in the cabins. Vacancies and double bookings occurred without any apparent reason. Bill tried to reverse the trend by replacing the day manager, but the problems continued and life at the court became difficult and strained.

As Bill's business continued to prosper, he began to consider selling the court and building a home closer to Monterey. He knew something had to be done if his marriage was to survive, and getting rid of the court seemed to be a step in the right direction. When he was awarded a major contract to build the first multilevel parking garage in Monterey, he announced his plan to Gertrude. We'll put the court up for sale and break ground on a new house just as soon as the garage profits are in. We won't need the income from the court and they should bring a sizeable profit over our initial investment.

The parking garage was to be built on a spit of land adjacent to the Monterey Pier on what Bill and the planning engineers believed to be hard rock. The construction proceeded on schedule with each floor of the poured cement multilevel structure rising above the one below it. A seemingly endless line of wheel barrows were pushed and pulled up a set of ramps to the third level where their contribution of wet heavy cement was dumped into the corner forms to dry into an integral part of the four story structure. However, deep under the ground, the pilings rested on a subterranean coral shelf, which strained under the sheering weight of the corner piling as more and more cement was poured into the forms.

Bill ordered a ladder raised to the second level, below where the cement was being poured, to inspect an area where forms had been removed. He reached the top of the ladder when without warning the coral shelf crumbled under the tremendous weight, letting the pilings drive themselves deep into the unstable mud under the coral. Above ground, the corner collapsed, sending the entire structure into a crashing, death performing role. Bill jumped from the ladder only to become engulfed in the cascading tons of wet cement, concrete, steel and timbers.

Grandmother Monroe, upon being told of the accident, came to Carmel to be with her son, expecting the worse. For days she sat in the corner of his hospital room waiting, watching and praying for an improvement in his condition. The doctors did all they could, but the tons of falling materials had caused severe internal injuries, injuries beyond surgical repair.

The urgently needed surgery to rebuild the crushed pelvic bones and hip joint had to wait. Nothing could be done except to wait and pray. Five days after the accident it was announced that Bill Munroe would live, but doctors told him he would never walk again. As Bill regained his strength and the operations to mend his crushed body commenced, his outside world was falling apart.

Suits charging negligence and default were filed. His ex-friends and employees took what they wanted before the courts could seize the assets, and previous investors who had eagerly sought him out now demanded payment. Employees filed for damages, and his other contracts were scuttled by competitors. From his hospital bed Bill tried to bring some order to his troubles in hopes of salvaging something from the innocent catastrophe. It was no use. It was all over. The business was lost.

Then, came the final blow, a real coup d’état. He was served with divorce papers on the grounds of gross incompatibility, mental anguish and the inability to provide for his family. His world collapsed around him. Gertrude returned to Oakland taking Beth and Randolph with her, leaving Billy behind with his father and grandmother. Billy was six years old.

CHAPTER THREE

Six months passed before Billy's father was discharged from the hospital, well enough to go home, but still a long way from being well. The doctors, Bill would later say, were wrong on two counts. One, I didn't die, and two, I'm walking. Maybe not too good, but I'm walking, and I'll get rid of this cane before too long.

During those long six months, Billy's grandmother took on the multiple roles of grandmother, mother and manager of the Carmel Cottage Courts. She and Billy became great companions, sharing the activities of running the courts and waiting for the day when Billy's father would come home. Billy's love and affection for his grandmother moved through the salutations of grandmother to mother and then to what was to be his most affectionate expression, of Mums. Mums became her name.

The months preceding the divorce required frequent trips to Oakland in Mum's Rickenbacker, a spacious automobile luxurious with its pecan wood dashboard and velvet seat coverings in which contrasting patterns would appear when Billy ran his fingers through the nap. On these trips to Oakland Billy stood on the floor between his Dad's legs or sat in his lap, looking out the windshield. It was his place for the long trips.

The road to Oakland wound through the hills and valleys and crossed many bridges. The trips became a game of naming the bridges for a member of the family, or a friend. As the frequency of the trips increased, Billy memorized the bridges and the name given to each bridge. When they approached a bridge Billy would announce it’s name. There was one bridge of great significance to Billy, and it was always a long wait until that particular bridge came into view. It was the longest of all the bridges and spanned a deep and scenic canyon. Seeing the bridge, Billy would proudly announce, This is your bridge, Mums. Billy loved his Mums.

At the end of one of those happy trips came an event which would forever haunt Billy. He sat with his father and grandmother on the hard wooden bench seat of a courtroom watching his mother on the witness stand. He was too young to comprehend the proceedings, but not too young to know he was being separated from the love of his father and his Mums. The courts awarded all three children to the custody of their mother.

Although Billy chose to blot out the memory of that day, the hurt and anger would forever remain. The divorce had been savagely manipulated by Billy's mother stripping his father of his family, wealth and dignity. Mr. Munroe was powerless to respond and physically incapable of doing so. The ruthlessness of the divorce generated in his father's family a passionate hatred toward Billy's mother. It was a hatred which would outlive Billy.

The Carmel Cottage Courts was sold and the proceeds went toward settlement of the Monterey tragedy. Billy's father moved to seclusion in the Sierra Nevada Mountains and Grandmother Munroe, denied the right to visit with her grandchildren, returned to Oakland. Billy joined his siste,r and brother who were living with the Blair's in Oakland. Boarded out was the term Billy would come to understand.

When Gertrude had arrived in Oakland with Beth and Randolph she had been fortunate in two ways. She had found immediate employment and a friend, with whom she and her two children could live. It was only a short time, however, before the living arrangement demanded a change. Her daily absence from the two young children had placed too much of a burden on what was becoming a fragile relationship. Through a neighbor friend she had learned of the Blair family who lived close by in a large house and who had expressed an interest in boarding the children. Discussions with Mrs.