few pages of my work of fiction

If Bartley Copeland ever got in a tizzy about anything, nobody knew it. He was about the easiest man to get along with the world had seen since Jesus. He was friendly yet reserved, generous to a fault, he served on the school board, coached little league for years, held fund raisers for orphanages in Africa and gave to every cause known to man. He could not pass up the opportunity to contribute to any mission he ever heard of, he said it was personal. He took home strays, not animals, people. There was never any way of knowing who or how many would be eating at the Copeland‘s dinner table. His wife never said a word, she asked him once if he could give her a little notice, this was after he came home with his truck loaded with a bunch of church kids whose fifteen passenger van overheated on the interstate. They ate everything in the pantry that night, and what they didn‘t consume there was boxed up and sent with them to Mexico. Bartley loaded them back in his truck and took them to the auto shop to pick up their van. The young minister cried when Bartley paid the bill.

He was a man envied by men and admired by women. Everyone knew EmmaJean from way back too. She had not grown up in Opal Hills but something about it was born in her. She was probably as well liked as Bartley but for extremely different reasons. She was a never ending source of entertainment. The two of them were opposite in personality. No one ever accused her of being reserved. If she liked you it was obvious but if she loved you she might just knock you down with her enthusiasm. They may have been different from the start but they complimented each other like oil and vinegar.
Theirs was a marriage few understood but everyone wished they had.


This is their story~


He was a native to Opal Hills where the Copeland name was synonymous with big money. His great granddaddy invented some little part that proved valuable to NASA, they in turn bought the patent for a nice round sum. Granddaddy Copeland invested in plastics and the rest was history. The Copelands bought up the better part of an entire county and went about putting their wealth to work for them. Bartley didn’t enjoy hearing about his family history. He was something of a societal dropout in the sixties and felt the need to hitch-hike to California. His father sent the state troopers after him when they found out what he was attempting. They brought him back home and after a week of negotiations Jacob A. Copeland Jr, built his son a place he could call his own.
It was the nicest commune known to man.
He let Bartley “live off the land” in a collection of mobile homes, complete with redwood porches and the help of several hired caretakers. Bartley invited friends to come out and live on his communal farm in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t California but it was close enough for Bartley. He painted peace signs on the barn and planted marijuana in the garden right next to the tomatoes. In all Bartley (or in reality, his dad) provided homes for twenty or more hippies in the couple of years he had his commune. But when Uncle Sam showed up at the Copeland’s big estate with a draft notice everyone else was given their walking papers. Jacob turned the commune into “Happy Acres Trailer Park”, an idea he had been throwing around anyway. There was nothing the Copeland money could do to prevent their youngest son from being shipped off to Vietnam. His mama cried and hoped her baby would come home alive, Jacob hoped he would come back a grown man. They both got their wishes.


When Bartley stepped off the plane in Atlanta on a balmy September afternoon there was an entourage to meet him. He smiled and looked embarrassed as he waved to his family and most of his hometown. He wondered if his daddy had given them all the day off and a day’s wages to come meet him. Of course he had, but Bartley’s safe return was cause for a holiday.
His brother Alan and his wife Cindy were there with their two girls. Jacob the third was there with his new girlfriend of the month. His younger sister , Maria brought a girlfriend from college. The little redhead caught his eye and for a minute he thought he knew her. Naturally, Willa Copeland was first to reach her baby and would not let him go. She cried and laughed and pulled a tissue out of her pocket then hugged him again, this continued with everyone around laughing along until she had to push him away to look at his face. She couldn’t help but notice he was different. He looked older, wiser, but sweeter at the same time. When he made his way to Maria he squeezed her tight and whispered, “I’ve missed you….who is the girl in the purple skirt?” Maria laughed and said, “She is YOUR match….you like her?” Bartley laughed, “Yeah, but do I know her?” Maria assured him he had never met anyone even close to that little fireball.

After the mob made it’s way back to Opal Hills there was a celebration in the park downtown. The women’s auxiliary held a picnic in honor of all the veterans of foreign wars with Bartley as the guest of honor. After a tour of duty in the jungles of Southeast Asia he was just glad to be anywhere. There was a time he thought he would never make it back to friendly soil. He was a changed person. He went away a spoiled boy and came home thankful to God for the privilege to live. He loved everything about his home. He closed his eyes and just breathed deep. He loved the smell of the hot pavement, the kudzu blooms behind the courthouse, the chicken frying at the Chick-n- Shack. He listened to the chatter and the music playing in the distance. He was the happiest man alive. He never wanted to leave Opal Hills again.
Maria and her friend pulled up in her new black Corvette. Bartley noticed the redhead again, this time with a warm smile. She smiled back and their eyes locked for just a second. EmmaJean looked away. Maria had changed into bellbottom jeans and a peasant top, EmmaJean still had on her purple skirt and a tie-dyed t-shirt with flip-flops from a discount store. It was clear this girl wore what she wanted, where she wanted. Bartley liked that. Maria introduced her friend to her brother. After she spoke her voice faded and she wandered down the street to where a snow cone stand was being set up. She turned expecting EmmaJean to be following her but just shook her head when she saw the two of them. I knew it, she thought. Those two were meant for each other.

“So EmmaJean, how’d you link up with the likes of my little sister?” Bartley tried not to stare.
“We are suitemates at school” EmmaJean did not want to talk about Maria.
“So, how’d she wrangle you into coming to this shindig?” EmmaJean wanted to tell him the truth, she had seen a picture of him with Maria and thought he was the most beautiful boy she had ever seen.
“Oh, she said there’d be barbeque and beer, I thought that sounded fun”. She tried not to look in his eyes. She was sure he would read her mind.
“Well, I’m glad she could offer something interesting for you to do for a couple of days.” There it was again, that smile he saw when he first noticed her. The wind lifted her cotton skirt and it floated up just a little. Bartley couldn’t help but notice her legs, she looked really athletic but was a tiny little thing. She smelled like Lavender. Bartley decided then and there he loved Lavender.