Disclaimer: Don't own the original characters.

Note: Dear readers sorry it has taken me so long to update but I've been switched to night shift and it has taken me a awhile till I could get my new boss to allow me my laptop at work, but there is no Internet there and when I get home my Internet is down or I have homework or I'm to tired. My finals are now over and I have all Christmas break to work on the story. I've gone back and edited the past chapters too. Thanks for reading my story and waiting patiently for its update. Your reviews really boost my confidences. This is my first story and I have no beta so please bare with me.

FINALLY ON WITH THE SORRY!

Chapter 9

The two story, richly decorated house sat in silence and darkness. Bobby was slouched against his truck, his dad's old truck, and just looked at the place he called home for the last nine years of his life. They moved here when he was ten. His mom wanted a better house, he remembered the fight they had. Dad thought it wasn't necessary to move to a big house for just the three of them, his mother shouting back that she deserved it and it would show people in this town that they had money and his dad yelling that they didn't need to show it off. Bobby remembered when his grandpa getting involved and how they ganged up on his dad. They moved a couple weeks later.

Grandfather. GrandFather Newsome. Bobby smiled a little smile as he thought about that man. He was a mean son-of-a-Bitch. Oh how he used to love the man. That man spoiled him like no other and let him get away with everything; then his dad died. At seventeen his world was flipped. It was after the funeral that this took a turn. He had driven to a bar in the next town over lookin' to down his grief. It was there that the shock hit. He remembered it so well.

Flashback

June 21, 1983

" Son, you a'right? Son?"

"Don't call me that!" Bobby shouted. "I'm not your son! You're not my Father! He's Dead!"

As he spoke those words realization hit him like boulder. Dead. His dad was dead. His mom didn't know but he had seen his father's body. That horrible sight wold stay with him for the rest of his life. There had been no face left to identify the body only his dad's wedding ring told anyone that it this poor wretch was his father. Silent tears ran down his face.

"I'm sorry boy. It's sad to lose a parent. Here just sit back down and I'll give you something to calm your nerves." The kind old bartender knudged him back down in his seat and went searching for some of the good stuff. Over in a corner at the end of the bar sat a figure who couldn't help but over hear.

"So you lost your Father. Must of cared for him quiet a bit," the figure spoke.

Bobby whirled around looking for the owner's voice. "You got something to say?" He demanded still looking for whom ever spoke.

"Not really. Just sayin', " answered the voice.

Looking over at the end of the bar Bobby found the voice. They were slumped over the table, arms crossed in front of them, and their hat was tilted forward so you couldn't see their face. Walking over to them, irritation almost boiling he snapped at them, " You was just saying? Well..."

"Shut Up." It was the heat behind the words that stopped him in his tracks. The silence left in the wake of those words echoed throughout the whole tavern. The few customers that were there just stared wide eyed and tense, as a deer sensing a predator.

"Sit Down, Boy," he spoke again. The threat underlying every word. Bobby glanced around and everyone looked back down and their tables or drinks. Glancing back at the figure he took a deep breath and sat down. A young waitress came over with Bobby's drink. Setting it down she quickly scurried away back to the bar. They both sat in silence and drank the drinks in front of them.

"So," the person spoke, startling Bobby, " You lost your Father. What happen?"

"Car accident," came after a moment.

"Sounds like you don't believe it," shot back.

"I don't know," came a whispered response.

"Why don't you tell me what happened, and we'll go from there?"

Bobby's head snapped up and gazed into crystal blue eyes. A piece of cloth was wrapped around the person's face only letting their eyes been seen. Seeing nothing but sincerity Bobby talked. Talked about his life, talked about his father.

After about two hours and two more beers Bobby's tale came to an end.

" Your dad seemed to have secrets." Came after a few minutes. "Perhaps you need to find out who your Father really was behind his mask."

Bobby looked up, but all that he could see was the hat.

"Your Grandfather sounds like a tyrant and a jackass to boot." The Person stood up and placed a wade of cash on the table. " It seems to me you got some growing up to do." They looked and held Bobby's eyes making sure their next words penetrated, "Maybe it time you stopped listening to your ass of a grandfather and start thinking on your own. From what I know of your father, he was a good man, but his heart was never truly in Texas." Bobby's eyes widened. " Maybe you should try and find out why, hm?"

After have said that they walked away and out of his life forever.

End Flashback

Bobby shuck his head as he thought about that day. He had sat there till he deemed it safe enough to head home, thoughts flashing through his mind and determination setting his face. When he got home he had heard his Grandfather talking in the kitchen with his mom. The hateful words that spewed from his mouth ripped the blinders from his eyes, and for the first time saw his Grandfather for the hateful man he was. He quietly went up to his room and thought up plans to find out more about his dad. He distanced himself from his mother and though he was polite to he grandfather he was cold. He started asking around town and going through his dad's old office. In his search he found friends and himself. Meeting Old Black Owl was the turning point in finding more about his father. Bobby smiled now that was a trip, hethought.

Flashback

Bobby was his dad's old office on the second floor. His mother hadn't had the time to go through it, so he volunteered. After receiving a strange look his mother accepted. His dad had little to nothing personal in his office. The only thing personal in the room were pictures of his time in the rodeo and pictures of him growing up. Bobby smiled at the picture of himself and his dad driving a new big tractor in the parking lot that was on the desk. Shaking his head Bobby turn his attention back to the task at hand. It took him two hours till he hit paydirt. It wasn't much but it was a lead. In the right bottom draw of the desk, he noticed it looked smaller from the inside. Shifting it around he manged to find out why. A false bottom. Removing the top he found a set of car keys, an old Post card and and photograph.

The keys were nothing special. The belonged to an older GMC model vehicle, most likely a truck, he thought. The Post card was nothing special. The picture was of some mountains, and on the back was written in an unfamiliar hand writing saying "August 14. Meet you there." Glancing at the the postmark it was sent in March.

"Riverton, WY. Why does that sound familiar?"

Placing the card next to the keys Bobby examined the last item. The photo wasn't very old, but his his dad was definitely younger in the picture. He was standing with his arm around a man who was of native American descent, his dad smiling his big toothy smile and the man next to him smirking. Flipping it over he read "Me and Black Owl Summer 1967"

Black Owl? This guy can't be Old Black Owl, the hermit. Right? Bobby thought. Making a mental note to go and pay the old hermit a visit, he replaced the bottom and took the things to his room for safe keeping.

It was three days later that found Bobby driving up an narrow dirt road about 2 miles outside of town. The Old Black Owl was known for being quiet, and anti-social. He was rarely ever in town. People avoided him, while few others treated him with just a little courtesy. No one knows where he came from or really anything about him. Just that he showed up one summer and took up residence. After a few minutes he came upon the house. It was a one story house that looked as if it had seen better days. The paint was old, faded and peeling. The porch was a wrap around with an old swing; both in need of some repair work. There was an big old barn off the the left , but not much else.

Parking the truck, Bobby walked slowly up to the steps. The door was open with the screen door closed Just like one would expect with the summer heat as it was. The house seemed pretty old to have air conditioning.

"Hello?"

No answer.

Bobby tried again.

"Hello? Is anyone at home?"

Again nothing.

"Look, Sir, I'm here looking for information. I found an old picture of my father and, who I've come to believe to be you. I just want to some information about how you knew him. Please."

Only the sound of the house shifting could be hear in the silence after his statement.

"My name is..."

"I know who you are boy," a deep voice spoke. "You're Jack's boy."

Startled Bobby squinted trying to get a better look into the house. Sure enough there, standing in the shadows was a man. "Yes Sir, that'd be me. Can you help me?"

"I didn'a think I'd be seeing you around 'ere, boy," the man said ignoring the question. "The last I heard you couldna' cared less about you father. What changed your mind, boy?"

"Lets just say I had my blinders taken off, Sir." Bobby answered. "Please, Sir, can you help me?"

After a few minutes of silence Bobby heard the creaking of floor boards and sure enough Old Black Owl came to the door and Bobby got his first real look at the man.

Black Owl was a tall man of about six feet. And though his body was aged with time, his body was far from weak. His skin was a dark brown, and his hair was long and peppered with gray. His face had lost it's smooth and taunt looks from his youth, and replaced with the face of a wise man. His eyes were the most haunting; they were black as onyx which seemed to see right through to your soul.

"While come one in then, boy. No need to stand there all day. I'll answer your questions, but in return you need to help me. Is it a deal?" Black Owl spoke from behind the screen.

Gazing up at the old man his mind flashed back to his father's mutilated corpse. "Deal."

tbc

So what do you all think? Is it getting good? Oh and I'm using both the movie and the book for my references, just to let you all know. Review please. Opinions would be appreciated.