The Unusual Second Life of Thomas Weaver: Episode One (The Unusual Life Of Thomas Weaver Book 1)

by Shawn Inmon

  “Nothing. Just wondering…how you are?”

  “I'm being talked to before my coffee. You know not to do that.” She turned to face him.

  Thomas’s face fell. “Uhh, sorry. Never mind.”

  She forced a bit of a smile. “Just teasing you, sweetie. I’m fine. At least I will be once the coffee is ready.”

  Tommy heard gravel crunch in the driveway outside. They both looked out the kitchen window at the green ’69 Camaro that rolled into the driveway.

  “I’d better start some breakfast,” his mom said.

  That's Zack.

  ZACK!

  Jesus H. Christ!

  He had an idle thought, that perhaps he shouldn't swear, even mentally, in what might be the afterlife. Tommy’s palms went slick and he felt an odd tingling at the base of his neck. He was holding his breath, waiting to see if Zack, dead for nearly forty years, would climb out of the Camaro.

  The car sat there. The door didn’t open. Tommy strained to see who was behind the wheel, but from this angle, he couldn’t see. Finally, after two minutes of interminable waiting, Zack emerged. He seemed unaware that he was a living miracle.

  Tommy grew dizzy. He groped for a kitchen chair and sat down. He felt tears start, and hoped he would not have to talk.

  Come on, Thomas. Tommy. Get a grip. You’re not going to pass out.

  Zack slid open the door and walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom. Squirt.” As if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  Thomas remembered Zack as a full-grown man. Now Zack looked like a boy in a man’s body. His face was smooth, unlined, whiskerless. His good-humored eyes showed the sort of innocence found in very few adult eyes. 'Handsome devil' described him well.

  Their mom smiled at Zack. “Hi, sweetie. How was practice?”

  “Okay. Coach ran me hard this morning. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

  “Hurry. Breakfast won’t take long.”

  Zack turned to look at Tommy, sitting slack-mouthed and motionless. He nudged his mother. “I think maybe Tommy’s had a stroke or somethin’. He looks goofier than usual.”

  She turned her attention to Tommy. “Tommy? Honey, are you all right?”

  Tommy shut his mouth, tried to smile, then nodded. Zack let out a quick laugh. “You get a little weirder every day,” he said, heading in the direction of the bathroom.

  “Tommy, set the table for breakfast. I’m going to make us some bacon and eggs.” She pulled a carton of eggs and a package of bacon out of the avocado-green refrigerator, and started cracking the eggs into a large bowl.

  This is all too real. This is no dream. I’m really here.

  Tears ran down his face, and he turned away from his mother so she wouldn't see them. He wiped his eyes, remembered he was still in his underwear, and said, “Gonna go get dressed real quick. Then I’ll come set the table.” His voice was thick, but she didn’t notice. On his way past her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, laid his head against her, and said, “I love you, Mom. I’m so glad to see you.”

  She leaned her head against his for a moment, patted the top of his head, and said, “You're sweet, Tommy. I love you too. Go get dressed now.”

  Tommy walked down the hall to the boys' bedroom and sat down on the bed. He turned the knob on the Kenmore stereo and watched the tone arm drop into place. The rat-a-tat-tat snare drum of Charles Mingus’s Solo Dancer came through the tiny speakers on either side of the turntable.

  With the audio camouflage of ‘50s jazz, Tommy let the tide of emotions wash over him. He sat on the edge of the bed, put his head in his hands, and began to shake. Tears ran down his face. He let everything go in a cascade of wracking sobs. Solo Dancer gave way to the next song as forty years of survivor’s guilt, sorrow, regret, anger, and mourning poured out of him.

  Zack walked in, wearing only a towel. Seeing his younger brother bawl in hysterics, for no apparent reason, overwhelmed even his immense reservoir of cool. Shifting from one foot to another, he stared at Tommy for a long moment. Then he walked over and laid a hand across his brother's shoulder. “See. I told you that if you listened to that godawful music long enough, you would go totally fruit loops.”

  Tommy jumped, embarrassed, but Zack turned his back without waiting for a reaction. He dropped the towel, showing his bare ass.

  Tommy took a deep, shuddering breath, then laughed a little. He found it difficult to sustain a cathartic breakdown while looking at his brother’s behind. Zack bent over and shoved his posterior further into Tommy’s face, moving it from side to side, daring him.

  Tommy reached out, intending just to push him away, but he had never had much impulse control. He slapped Zack’s ass hard enough to leave a red imprint. Zack jumped, whirled around, and smiled, back on the more comfortable ground. “Oh, think you can take me on, big boy?”

  No. First he rises from the grave, and now he will kick my ass. Tommy backed away. As Zack took one step toward him, a feminine voice called from the kitchen. “Boys! Come on! Food’s on!”

  “Saved by the Mom again, Squirt.” Zack grabbed a pair of jeans draped across the end of the bed and put them on without bothering with underwear. He picked a grey t-shirt emblazoned with “Disco Sucks” off the floor and donned it. “You better hurry and get dressed, or it’ll all be gone when you get there.”

  Tommy smiled at him, a silent thank you for not beating him up, for not really making fun of him for crying, but mostly for being alive.

  His clothes were just where he remembered. Leaving the white t-shirt on, he pulled up an old pair of Levi's that were a little high water, then some socks and his Adidas. By the time he got to the table, Zack and his mom were sitting, waiting. His mother had set the table without waiting for him. Zack sat at the table's head to the left, where he had sat since their dad's departure five years before. Tommy's place was between Zack and his mother, with a wrapped present sitting on his plate. There was a smaller package on Zack’s plate.

  “We waited for you. Mom made me.”

  “Come sit down, Honey. You can open your present, then we can eat before it gets cold.”

  Tommy felt a little lost. He didn’t remember starting each day off with a full breakfast and presents waiting on a plate.

  “Present?” Tommy said.

  “I know you two were too old for Easter baskets, but I still wanted to get you something. Yours is a little practical, I’m afraid.”

  Easter. Holy crap. Today is Easter, and I am risen.

  Tommy shook his head, but the surreal fog didn’t clear. He sat down and picked up the package. It was wrapped in yellow paper with blue and gold stars, and folded slightly in his hands. The feel of it snapped a memory into place.

  He tore open the wrapping and pulled out a pair of Levi's. “I noticed that your growth spurt this winter has made your school jeans a little short, so I thought this could help you get through the end of the school year.”

  Tommy smiled, rubbing the jeans against his face. “That’s great, Mom. Thanks.”

  “All right, Zachary David. Your turn.”

  Zack’s present was wrapped in the same paper but was smaller—a hard little rectangle. He tore one end of the wrapping open, tipped it upside down and gave it a little shake. Two 8-track tapes fell out. Led Zeppelin’s double album, Physical Graffiti. His smile lit up. “You are the coolest. Most moms would have picked out Bread, or The Starland Vocal Band. This is boss.” He stood up, walked around to the other end of the table and enveloped her in a bear hug.

  “Still a rock ‘n roll girl at heart, I guess,” she said, dimpling.

  Tommy stared at the box. Trampled Underfoot played in his head. A deer. The Camaro spinning through the air. Color drained from his face.

  “Okay, let’s eat,” Anne said. She put a mound of scrambled eggs on her plate, did the same for Tommy, then handed the bowl to Zack. Zack scooped the rest of the eggs onto his plate. She served herself two pieces of bacon, put three on Tommy’s plate, then passed it across to Zack
as well. The two of them started talking about their plans for the rest of the day, oblivious to the fact that Tommy was frozen in place.

  Tommy stared straight ahead for thirty seconds. He glanced at Zack, then at his mother, then smiled a little to himself. He was famished.

  He dug into the bacon and eggs.

  Author’s Note

  As a reader, serials are tricky. What if the author never finishes the story? How do I know when the next installment is available? To the first question, I can only answer: I have to finish this story. It has haunted my dreams and waking moments alike for more than a year and a half. I have to get it out on paper. To the second question, I say, “That’s easy.” I have a New Release Alert List. When you sign up for it, two good things happen. 1) You immediately get a free book. 2) You will receive a short email each time I release a new story, including the last five installments of The Unusual Second Life of Thomas Weaver. Everyone on my list immediately receives a copy of my story of old rock ‘n roll and personal redemption, Rock ‘n Roll Heaven, at no charge. Then, I send an email only when I have a new story available. No recipes, or vacation photos, just new books and stories. You can sign up here: http://bit.ly/1cU1iS0.

  I love the serial form of telling stories. Serials have been around for a very long time, of course--Charles Dicken’s The Pickwick Papers was published as a serial in the mid-19th Century—but with the advent of ebooks, they have become increasingly popular. In 2014, I published Second Chance Love as a serial. It was so much fun, I decided to do it again in 2015.

  I am planning on releasing two episodes per month in July, August and September. In October, I will compile all episodes into a single novel and publish it as both an ebook and in paperback. Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. I am so grateful to have you along for the ride.

  As always, producing a quality story is never the work of one person. I am grateful to J.K. Kelley for the outstanding work he did in helping me transform this story from a random idea to a coherent narrative. He served as both developmental and content editor and did his normal outstanding job of untwisting my words and finding the true meaning I intended. I can’t imagine publishing a story without him. Linda Boulanger of TreasureLine Books created the cover, just as she has for every story I’ve ever published. She is like my creative sister, and I so appreciate her endless creativity and everything she does to help me get my stories noticed. Linda also did double duty by formatting the story and making it look like a book. Finally, Debra Galvan served as my proofreader and final eyes on the manuscript. She is not only eagle-eyed, she is also the fastest proofer in the west. I am in her debt.

  I have an entire team of beta readers helping me shape this story and saving me from some of the truly terrible ideas I sometimes come up with. I very much appreciate their willingness to invest time, energy and intelligence into helping me create a better story.

  Shawn Inmon

  Enumclaw Washington

  February 2014

  Other Books and Stories by Shawn Inmon

  Feels Like the First Time ~ A heartfelt memoir of love found, lost and found again in small-town American in the 1970s.

  Both Sides Now ~ Every good love story deserves to be told from both sides. Both Sides Now is a companion book to the bestselling Feels Like the First Time, telling the story from Dawn’s perspective.

  Rock ‘n Roll Heaven ~ A fable of redemption for small time rocker Jimmy “Guitar” Velvet, who meets rock ‘n roll’s greatest icons: Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly, Janis Joplin and more in Rock ‘n Roll Heaven.

  Second Chance Love ~ Steve and Elizabeth were best friends and loved each other secretly, but apparently lost their chance at romance when they were separated for twenty years. A chance meeting on a Christmas tree lot gave them the rarest of gifts—a second chance at finding love.

  Christmas Town ~ A Christmas parable about the choices we make and what is truly important.

  Chad Stinson Goes for a Walk ~ A short tale of obsession and possession. Just right for fans of The Twilight Zone or Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

  Lucky Man ~ A short story perfect for a lunch time read. When Brett Mann returns for his 20th Class Reunion, he finds that someone has been waiting patiently, willing to have her revenge served very cold.