Romans Road Detour

by Todie West

  “Do you think you’ll have trouble finding a job after you finish the program?”

  “I think they recruit right out of the class, but I have no idea where I’ll be. Doesn’t matter, really. As long as I don’t have to go back to Iraq.”

  “Yeah, that must have been something.”

  “By the time I got there it was pretty safe with only a few pockets of violence. What I hated most was the summer when it was like 120 degrees, dusty, dirty. And we still had to wear full gear. I thought I was going to die.”

  “I bet you did. I sure couldn’t have done what you did.”

  “Yeah, you could if you had to. I just know eight years was long enough. I thought about reenlisting but, after two tours in Iraq, I was out of there.”

  “I know your mom really missed you.”

  “Yeah, it was tough since Dad died shortly after I left. At least I was able to send her some money. She also had my brother.”

  “It’s great to have family around.”

  “Sorry, Man.”

  “Not a problem. Being an only child, I spent a lot of time alone. You get used to it. It’s better than being in a miserable marriage. I did that, too, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about that. Do you ever hear from Lydia?”

  “No. She knows better.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care. She belongs in jail after what she did to me.”

  “What did she do, try to off you in your sleep?”

  “No, she just racked up thousands of dollars in credit card debt and then she disappeared and left me holding the bag, the empty bag that is.”

  “Wow. I really have been out of the loop. I had no idea. No wonder you’ve been so reluctant to date.”

  “I’m going to be really picky next time around.”

  “Maybe I should be, too, then.”

  “Can’t hurt. I guess I am going to go out for a milkshake or something with that teacher I was telling you about.”

  “The Mormon?”

  “Yeah, she got me at a weak moment.”

  “Hey, it’s only a milkshake.”

  “I guess. … You know what? You’ve just about wiped out my stash of cash. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you.” Michael hung up his cue stick.

  “Played lots of pool in the Army. Not much else to do on your off time.”

  “Shall we call it a night?”

  “Yeah. It’s been fun. Maybe we can get Brad out of the house next time.”

  “He may have used up his quota of nights after this past week.”

  The two laughed and walked to the parking lot.

  * * *

  Michael woke up the next day at the crack of noon. After a late breakfast, he opened up his briefcase and spread his school papers across the coffee table. The college football game blared on the television. Tabby sat on the rocking chair and still had not eaten much since Mom left. Michael decided he would give it a couple more days and then call the vet.

  Michael reviewed the extra-credit papers from Gina and Rene. The Bible is the rock upon which our republic rests. Gina took each word and gave a definition from the dictionary. The Bible is a religious book of stories and lessons for Christian people. A rock is a lump or mass of hard consolidated mineral matter. A republic is a political system in which the supreme power rests in its citizens who elect people to represent them and rest is to not move, stay in one position. So what all that means to me is that this guy named Andrew Jackson thought all this stuff and then I looked up Andrew Jackson and he was one of our Presidents a long time ago.

  Rene obviously had spent some time in church. She approached the assignment from an entirely different direction. She wrote: I think it means that Andrew Jackson, one of our Presidents, went to church and read the Bible and that he thought everybody else should, too.

  Michael thought for a moment. Both of them wrote what they thought it meant. I am sure, if Andrew Jackson was like my mother, he really did believe what he wrote. Michael remembered his mother always referring to Jesus as her rock but had no idea why. After thinking about it, he could see his mother was unmovable like a rock in her beliefs and maybe that’s what it means. Michael gave them both full credit and would later award them each $100 of phony cash for their accounts. He still couldn’t figure out who was writing on his blackboard.

  The next morning, Michael was awakened by a knock on the door. He looked at the clock and it was only 9:00. He rubbed his sleepy eyes, put on his sweat pants and hobbled downstairs.

  “Mrs. Davis.”

  “Hi Michael, I’m on my way to church, I was hoping you’d join us, but just in case, I thought I’d bring you this fresh baked pie and here’s some reading materials on our study in the book of Daniel I thought you might be interested in.”

  Michael tried to be cordial, wanting to tell her to mind her own business, that he didn’t want anything to do with her God or the book of Daniel, but the pie sure smelled good. He didn’t want to disrespect his mother by being rude to her friend.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Davis. You shouldn’t have.”

  “Oh, I wanted to, Dear. You poor, poor child. Your mother was the sweetest, kindest, most generous human being on planet earth, and she raised you to be a good boy. Now it’s up to us to help you out, now that she’s … gone. Sorry.” Mrs. Davis choked back the tears.

  “I’m doing fine, Ma’am, and thanks for the pie.”

  “I’ll be running along now, but if you change your mind and want to join us, service starts at 10:00.”

  “Oh, I have papers to grade this morning. But maybe another time,” Michael lied.

  “Bye, now.”

  “Bye.”

  Am I going to have to move across town? Those church ladies are going to drive me crazy! Michael lamented to himself.

  Michael settled into his spot on the sofa, which was much more comfortable than the pews of a church, and television was way more interesting. He decided to numb his mind with some beer and watch football all day. All went as planned until Tabby started acting strangely. Maybe he’s dehydrated, Michael thought, since the old cat hadn’t eaten in days. Michael couldn’t force Tabby to eat, so he called the vet for some advice.

  “Maybe you should bring him in, Mr. Webster,” Dr. Tally suggested.

  “Okay.” Michael had tried to avoid a weekend visit to the vet, knowing it would cost twice as much.

  Michael wrapped Tabby in one of his mother’s hand-crocheted afghans and placed him on the front passenger seat. Tabby did not move a muscle on the ride to the vet’s office.

  “Let’s take a look. You say he hasn’t been eating?” Dr. Tally put her stethoscope gently against Tabby’s underside.

  “Not for several days. You see, my mom left on a mission trip and he really misses her.”

  “When is she coming back?”

  “She’s not.”

  “She’s not?”

  “No, oh, um, this is all so bizarre, she was only gone two days when she was hit by a car and killed.”

  “Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Webster.”

  “Thanks. You can call me Michael.”

  “Okay, Michael.”

  “ But what about Tabby? I can’t force him to eat.” Michael clearly did not want to talk about his mother’s death.

  “No, you certainly can’t, but I can give him an IV. I’d like to run some tests, though. Can I keep him overnight? Don’t worry, I won’t charge you anymore.”

  “Sure. If you have to. He’s really old. I was trying to remember when I brought him home to Mom. It must have been about seven or eight years ago, but at the time we guessed he was 3 or 4 years old. I had found him outside my apartment.”

  “Let’s see, I have his records right here. Says he’s approximately 12 years old. And he survived cancer. I remember removing the tumor from behind his ear. He’s been fine since, I take it?”

  “No problems that
I know of.”

  “Okay, well let’s just take our time and check him out real good, and in the meantime I’ll give him an IV so he can regain some of his strength.”

  “Thanks a lot. Here’s my cell number. I teach school, but you can leave a message.”

  “Okay. Good. I’ll call you. And, again, I’m so sorry to hear about your mother. If there’s anything I can do …”

  “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

  Michael passed Rose’s Diner on his way home. A burger and shake sounded good, since he hadn’t been eating a lot since his mother’s death. He didn’t want to end up like Tabby, on an IV or something worse.

  “I’ll have the Sunday Burger, medium rare, lots of onions, large order of fries, and a chocolate milkshake.”

  “You got quite an appetite today,” Rose smiled. She had owned the diner most of her adult life, since the early 1950s. Her children wanted no part of the business, so she vowed to keep it going herself as long as her health would allow.

  “I haven’t been eating much lately, so I may take some of it home for later.”

  “Have you been sick?” asked Rose. “I know that darn flu bug’s been going around.”

  “No, my mom just died.”

  “Oh, you poor dear, I am so sorry. Did I know your mother?”

  “Bessie Webster, late 60s, gray hair, always wore a cardigan sweater and colorful dress. And she had a winning smile.”

  Rose thought for a moment. “Oh, yes, I think I do remember her. She used to come in with a group of church ladies once in a while on Sunday afternoon. That is so sad. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

  “Sure.” Michael wondered if anyone was really sincere about that, or was it just the right thing to say under the circumstances. Everyone says it, whether they mean it or not, he’s never sure, except those church ladies. He knew they’d love to move in and take over.

  Michael ate about half his meal and asked for a bag to take the rest home. He did finish the milkshake. It made him think of Trish and how he had agreed to go out with her in the near future. Maybe he would bring her here. Rose wasn’t one for gossip, so it would probably be safe. He really wasn’t interested in getting serious about a Mormon, or any other kind of Bible thumper, but looked forward to having a fellow teacher to talk to.

  Walking into Mom’s house and not feeling Tabby’s warm fur rub across his legs left Michael feeling empty. He couldn’t get into the Sunday night football game, so he turned to Mom’s bookshelf, looking for something to read that didn’t involve God or Jesus. He picked up a book about Abraham Lincoln and began reading. He had his share of American history classes during his 17 years of schooling, but it was refreshing to be able to read something without being told to, or writing a report on it. He read into the night and finally fell asleep.

  Chapter 6

  Children should be educated and instructed in the principles of freedom. (John Adams, Defense of the Constitutions, 1787)

  It was back to the old grind, the beginning of a new week. Michael pulled the Caddy into the school parking lot just as Trish was exiting her car.

  “Good morning, Michael. How was your weekend?”

  “Fairly productive; and yours?”

  “The usual.” They walked together and shared friendly chit-chat until they reached their classrooms.

  “Have a nice day,” Trish smiled.

  “You, too.” Michael wasn’t sure if he liked her liking him so much.

  “Good morning, Class.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Webster.”

  As he turned to write on the blackboard, he told his students, “Take out your math books and turn to page 39.” He then noticed the corner of the board had a new message for the day. “Are you sure no one has any idea who is writing this stuff on here every day?”

  “No, Mr. Webster,” several students answered in unison.

  “Maybe it’s God,” Gabe suggested as the rest of the class snickered.

  “Very funny.”

  “What does that one mean, Mr. Webster?” asked Marco.

  “Put your gum in the wastebasket, Marco.”

  The new note read: What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God, and this time it was signed by Moses.

  “Who’s Moses?” Peter asked.

  “I know, I know!” Gina vigorously shook her hand in the air.

  Michael announced, “Let’s take care of this piece of business before we do our math. Rene and Gina, come up and receive your prizes.”

  Oo’s and ah’s echoed from the other classmates.

  Gina and Rene smiled from ear to ear as they each received their $100. Michael showed them both how to write out a bank slip to deposit the money into their mock checkbook.

  “That’s not fair!”

  “What’s not fair, Marco? You were here on Thursday when I proposed to all of you, if you give me an answer, I’ll give you $100.”

  “What if the answer is wrong?”

  “In this case, it’s all up to interpretation. Rene’s answer was a bit different than Gina’s, but they both got credit. They did some research and came up with what they thought it meant and that’s good enough for me.”

  “Can’t we vote on it? Thought you said this was a democracy.”

  “Well, it is, but I’m still in charge. Our little town exercise is only to teach you about civics, and there will be times when we will learn about the court system, some of you will be jurors, but I will still be the judge.”

  “What did they answer?”

  “Okay, does everyone want to hear their responses?”

  “Yeah,” the class answered in unison.

  “Okay, Gina, you go first.”

  Gina read her answer aloud to boos from the audience.

  “Now, don’t be rude. You had a chance to do the assignment yourself, but only these two brave girls chose to meet the challenge. Go ahead, Rene, it’s your turn.”

  Rene read her answer.

  “That’s about religion, Mr. Webster. You’re not allowed to teach about religion.” Thomas announced.

  “I’m not teaching religion. I didn’t write the quote on the board. As Rene and Gina said, it was written by one of our Presidents and they Googled or whatever they did to find an answer, be it right or wrong. It’s up to you to use your creative mind to decide, and you are all free to do your own research.”

  Gina raised her hand.

  “Gina?”

  “I did Friday’s quote.”

  “Did anyone else?”

  “I did,” answered Rene.

  “Anyone else? Well, you all see this new quote, and if you want a piece of the action, you know what to do. The answers will be due tomorrow, if you want credit.”

  Gina and Rene turned in their answers to Friday’s quote and returned to their desks.

  “Okay, now let’s get to our math before recess; we’re wasting time.”

  * * *

  Michael called Brad before he left school that afternoon. “Okay, I’ll drive the Caddy home and walk over and pick up the bug. I’ve had one of those days; I need some fresh air.”

  “Okay, see you in a few.”

  “Thanks.”

  It had been a long time since Michael had had any exercise. The fall air was refreshing after all he had been through in the past week. “I can’t wait for my life to be normal again, whatever that is.”

  “Hey, Mike, here’s the key. Purrs like a kitten. Just needed a tune-up. You really should have her serviced more often.”

  “Yeah, I should do a lot of things more often; maybe one of these days I’ll get my life together.”

  “How’s everything going? Do you know when you’re having the funeral?”

  “Probably the end of this week sometime. I think my mother’s body will be arriving today or tomorrow. I need to contact the rev about that. And it’s not a funeral, it’s a corona
tion.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve heard it called that before.”

  “Well, I think it’s just weird.”

  “Whatever you want to call it, I’ll be there for you, Mike.”

  “Thanks, Man. You’re a good friend.”

  “Back at ya. You might not think so when you see the bill for your car.”

  “Oh, I know you won’t snake me. What’s the damages?”

  “$254.79, parts and labor.”

  “Well, I know it would be more if I wasn’t your friend.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  Michael handed Brad his Visa card and the transaction was completed. He smiled as he turned the key to his VW and it started without even coughing. “Good as new,” he waved and put her into gear.

  * * *

  “Hello.”

  “Michael, your mother’s body arrived this afternoon. Would you like to meet me at the funeral home and see her? Then we can talk about a date for her services.”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess I can come now. Where is it?”

  “It’s Taylor and Stone, on the corner of Elm and First downtown.”

  “Okay. See you in a few minutes then.”

  “Thanks.”

  Michael was rocked yet again with a flood of emotions. While he had been holding out hope that it was all a big mistake, he knew he would soon be forced to come to grips with the fact that his mother wasn’t coming back.

  Oh, damn. That reminds me, I forgot to return the vet’s call. She must think I’m the most uncaring person. Poor Tabby. I don’t know if I can handle seeing my dead mother and then her dead cat. Michael dialed the vet’s number.

  “Drake Veterinary Clinic.”

  “Yes, this is Michael Webster, I’m checking on Tabby, my mother’s cat.”

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Webster, the doctor would like to speak with you.”

  “Hello, Michael, thanks for calling.”

  “So how is he?”

  “Well, he’s a little perkier now that we got some fluids in him. We did some tests and his cancer is back, but now it’s in his internal organs. He’s not in any pain. You have a couple of choices.”