The Road to LaReta

I swam from a dream world to the surface through murky half-light. A new title came to me, a splash of thought. The Road to LaReta. The imagined waters calmed and it was clear to me, this may be the final title for the novel about Webb Bateman. 

Lying in the warmth of fluffy covers with an even fluffier cat backed into the crook of my waist, I reflected on the sound and meaning of The Road to LaReta. It rolled off my tongue; sounded right. I felt a bonding with the words.

Including LaReta’s name in the title was inspired by her daughter, Nicolette, as we stood by her dying mother’s bedside. She advised me to include something about a woman in the title. “We need more books about women,” she said. She didn’t specifically suggest her mother’s name, but it made me step back and think more about the important women in the story and the one person who motivated Webb’s journey and the opportunity to redeem himself. It was LaReta, his three-year-old daughter.

The book, a historical fiction novel based on a true story, had two other titles during the writing: Cat Skinner and Nicolette’s first inspired title, LaReta’s Cat Skinner. But the third title seemed best, The Road to LaReta.

The father LaReta and I share, Webb Bateman, was a Cat Skinner – a heavy equipment operator, but the story is not just about the earth he moved. It’s also about a man honed behind a cue stick, at the end of a fist, behind a plow, in a circus giraffe suit, and in the belly of a coal mine.  It’s the story of a man who married because he thought it was the right thing to do, but a man more interested in his construction jobs, drinking and playing cards than he was in raising a family. His wife’s sudden death provided a chance at redemption. Could he do what was right and make up for the pain he caused? Could he raise LaReta?

The journey of 900 miles to Dorothy’s funeral takes just a few days, but gives Webb time to reflect on his twenty-seven years of life; too much time and not enough to grapple with who he is and the man he wants to be.

The novel is in revision, after being read by four wonderful women who offered right-on suggestions. The one woman I wanted to read the story, is gone. My half-sister LaReta passed away at age eighty on June 14, 2016, but she knew her name would be in the title and I’m hopeful her sweet spirit will live on in The Road to LaReta.

Oh the Places You'll Go!

“Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go! 

That phrase keeps buzzing in my head as I scan a used book I just received from Amazon. The title is Step Right This Way by Edward J. Kelty. This is a wonderful coffee table edition of old-time circus photographs taken in the 1920’s and 30’s.

Why a circus book? My Dad, Webster (“Webb”) Warren Bateman and his older brother, Raymond Wellington Bateman joined a traveling truck circus the summer of 1925 when Dad was fourteen and Ray sixteen. The boys drove two of ten trucks to one night stands in towns in the Dakotas and Minnesota. They helped put up the big top and also performed. No they were not the high wire act. Dad was the front end and Ray the back end of a cartoon looking giraffe. After the show they broke it down, caught about four or five hours sleep and hit the road again. 

Dad’s brief discussion of this adventure and my regret at not having asked him more questions when he was still alive, led me to do more research. How many acts did they have? What were they? How many people can you haul in ten Model T Ford trucks along with the big top, bleachers, food, and animals? Yes, I’ve looked at images of Model T trucks used in the circuses to get an idea of size and I visited the LeMay Family Collection (of cars) at Marymount Event Center in Spanaway, Washington. (I was even allowed to open doors and take photographs).

I also contacted Archivist Peter Shrake at the Robert L. Parkinson Library and Research Center which is part of Circus World in Baraboo, Wisconsin. Peter in turn gave me the names of three truck circuses from the mid 1920’s. (I also discovered the names of more in Kelty’s book of photos).

Peter directed me to their library’s archive of photos. There aren’t many photos of truck circuses since the larger more glamorous circuses of the day travelled by train and drew a lot of attention wherever they went. Think Water for Elephants written by Sara Gruen as an example.

The answers to my questions, for the most part, will require a great deal of imagination to answer in my novel, Cat Skinner – A story of Lust, Love and Loss in the 1930’s.

Oh, the places I go in my journey to tell Webb’s story and the fun still to be done!