“What?” she exclaimed. “Where’s Gloria going? What’d she do?”
I shook my head and Paige’s nerves settled as she watched my wet eyes.
“What happened?” she whispered.
With those words, the dam broke and she ushered me into one of the small practice rooms. “It’s okay, Alex. Just tell me what happened. Let me do what I can to help.”
Her soothing voice pushed aside my restraint. The stream of tears became an unstoppable torrent that shook my entire body. “I c-c-couldn’t stop him.”
She pulled my bowed head closer and took me in her arms. With hesitance, she asked, “Couldn’t stop what?”
“He k-killed her, Paige. He killed Glory, and I wasn’t there.” I wrapped my arms around her waist, bundling my fists in the back of her sweater and let go. “He killed her,” I moaned.
She sniffled and her tears joined mine. “I’m so sorry.”
The bell rang, but I couldn’t separate myself from Paige. I clung tighter, as though she were my life raft in the midst of a tsunami. Through the slim window in the door, students began milling about the band room and peering in. Seeing us in a tearful embrace, Mr. Heaton knocked and opened the door a slit.
“Are you two doing all right?”
Paige nodded, and her wet cheek shifted against mine.
“It’s almost time for class,” he added.
She nodded again. “We’ll head out. Could you give us a minute?”
Pity and sadness suffused the director’s face, and he shut the door.
Minutes later, the tardy bell sent shivers down my spine. I felt them course through Paige’s trim form too, and I grudgingly let her go. At a wave from Mr. Heaton standing in front of his class, we snuck through the percussion equipment and slipped out of the room. The door closed. When we were out of earshot, we exhaled and smiled at one another. The brief excitement shelved thoughts of Gloria and my family for a few minutes. Since we were already late, we meandered to class and discussed our project. Friday was approaching fast, and I hadn’t worked on it much. Being a more devoted student, Paige told me what she had accomplished that week.
Once we reached Mrs. Easley’s class I expected her to jump down our throats, but one look at my battered face was deterrent enough. We drifted to our seats while she drew a mathematical problem on the overhead. No one paid attention to her. All eyes were on me.
“What happened, Alex?” hissed Drew from behind.
“Mr. Proctor!” interrupted Mrs. Easley without looking up. “Please take notes and pay attention.”
Drew’s jaw snapped shut, and for once I was thankful of her strict control over the classroom. Her words didn’t stop straying eyes, but with the lights off, I tuned them out. Free to drift, my thoughts again turned to Glory and my ineptitude. If only I’d gotten there earlier.
I replayed the scene in my head, over and over, until the bell gave us a temporary reprieve. By the time I realized that class was over, I had to wait for the train of students in my row to pass. Each of them peered at me like I was a visitor from another planet. My other classes went the same way: people staring, rumors shuffling about the gym, and more whispered questions. It seemed everyone had heard what happened. The rumor mill was hard at work again. As word got out about Gloria, their faces took on the appearance of a droopy-eyed beagle. Their pitiful looks frustrated me. Glory deserved their pity, not me. The only thing I felt was guilt.
The day passed as though someone else were living it. Beyond my emotional outpouring that morning, I was a passenger for the day, just along for the ride. I stewed in silence, going through the motions like a zombie and eventually tuning out the world. Mr. Broaderick asked me something in class, but I couldn’t answer him. The question didn’t make sense, but neither did anything else people said. I stared at him, then went to my seat. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Paige took hers a minute later. I was reminded of all the work she’d done on our project. Setting aside my guilt, I opened my bag and pulled out the presentation I’d begun earlier that week. It was the least I could do. Grabbing a pencil, I began jotting down my thoughts.
At the end of class, Paige caught my hand when I tried to slip out the door. “Hey, wait up.”
I waited for her to gather her books. Then we left the school together.
“So, how did things go?” she asked when the majority of students fell behind.
I shrugged and kicked at a small pile of leaves. “All right. Did you know the drunk confessed?”
“He confessed? To what?”
“To Helen’s murder, or so I hear.”
“You sure it’s true?” she asked.
“Most likely. I overheard Isaac Lacury telling a few people about it this morning. He said he was doing homework at the station when they brought the drunk in.”
“Well, while he isn’t the best student, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was at the station,” Paige added. “He takes his dad’s work pretty serious. He’s going to be just like him one day.”
“Yeah, I heard the chief used to take him with him when he was working the street,” I added with a chuckle.
“I heard that too, and Chief Lacury has never taken crap from anyone. Can you imagine him hustling a drunk into the back seat of the cruiser while Isaac watches from the passenger seat?”
I nodded. “Isaac will follow in his dad’s footsteps, there’s no doubt about that. I’m sure he’ll take to it like a fish to water. He’ll be a good cop, too… fair. There’s a reason even the McCullins respect him.”
“I know,” she whispered, hesitant to discuss the drunk or his family.
“That’s why I believe Isaac.”
“What are you going to do now?” she hissed.
“I think I’ve got some things figured out. I’ve got to help my mom out.”
“Your mom?” she asked with a curious expression. “What happened to Vivian?”
“Things are going a little better there, I guess. She opened up to me and we’re talking more, but she and Abby are having a hard time coping. Mostly, I have to pick up the pieces now and put our lives back together.”
Paige glanced at me with confidence. “You can do it.”
“Sure, so long as I don’t break down in the middle of it all.”
“You won’t. There’s a time and a place for it, and I’ll always be here for you.”
I took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thanks, Paige.”
“Anytime,” she whispered with a wink and a quirk of her lips.
Chapter 30
Warnings
Not long after Paige and I reached the trailer and I checked on Abby and Vivian, the phone rang. The ladies were still sleeping their depression away, so I answered.
“Alex, it’s Fred,” echoed the voice.
“Hey, Fred. Find anything new?”
“No,” he replied with a sigh. “We didn’t even get to document much. Before we had Frank’s killer processed, she was released after promising to attend a thirty-day treatment program for evaluation before charges are brought.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
“Alex, it’s politics.”
“Wait, how is her getting away with murder politics?”
After a thought-filled moment, he asked, “Do you know who her uncle is?”
“No, and I don’t really care! Nothing entitles her to drink and drive, and then slaughter other motorists.”
My thoughts returned to my father’s death and the officer’s words to my mother that night: From what we can tell, there wasn’t a thing he could’ve done. The truck driver was intoxicated and decided to change lanes. Your husband was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. These mountain roads don’t always leave room for people to maneuver.
As though that explains everything. It’s never as simple as that. I again had the urge to visit the scrap yard and finish what I couldn’t do before, but I shook it off. That was a memory I’d have to live with, just like the others.
“Look, I shouldn’t tell you this, but as soon as we got her in the cell, we received a call from the Mayor. He asked for an update on the case, so our dispatcher told him. He brokered a deal.” He emphasized the last phrase in mock disapproval. A second later his anger died, but his words were tinged with disgust and futility. “Nothin’ to do now, but move on. I’ve arranged the funeral for Helen, Frank, and Gloria. It’ll be Friday at ten, down at O’Quinn’s.”
Unlike Fred, my jaw was locked and my arm trembled like a guide wire stretched to the breaking point. “Okay,” I mumbled into the shaking phone. “I’ll let everyone know.”
“You do that.” After a pause, he adopted a tender baritone, “How are you holdin’ up?”
I pried my jaw loose and replied curtly, “I’m fine, just taking care of things.”
“Good, how’s Viv?”
“How do you think?” I spat. Venom lapped at my lips.
“I’m sorry, Alex. You know I’d do something if I could, but my hands are tied. He was my nephew, for God’s sake.” He allowed the words to sink in a few silent seconds, then added, “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“Yeah, I know.” I slammed the receiver down. Fred had never paid me much mind, but he could’ve done something. The ineffectiveness of the department was infuriating. I knew there was little he could do if he wanted to keep his job. And this was a small town; word would get around if he rocked the boat and made a fuss. But knowing who was to blame didn’t make it easier to deal with. There had to be a way to fix it.
“So, what’s going on?” asked Paige from the living room couch. “What happened?”
“The funeral’s Friday, at ten.”
“Oh… that’s soon.”
“Yeah,” I shouted, attempting to hold my anger in check. Taking a deep breath, I explained in a more controlled tone, “He said he wanted to move on.”
She ignored my outburst. “He?”
“Yeah, Fred.”
Paige leaned back on the couch. “Right, but is that what’s got you wound up?”
“No… they let the drunk driver who killed Frank go.”
Paige’s brows furrowed. “What?”
“Yeah, you heard me.” I wanted to scream and cry, to destroy something, but Paige didn’t deserve that. My lips curled into a forced grin. Better that than lash out at someone I loved. “I know he wasn’t the greatest of people, but you’d think that justice might be served so someone else doesn’t get run off the road like my dad.”
Paige nodded. “Yeah, but it won’t be your fault. It’ll be theirs.”
“But who’s to say it won’t be you or me out there on the road next time? Or Vivian and Abby? Just because I didn’t make the call to get that drunk imbecile released doesn’t mean we won’t be her next victim.”
Paige cocked her head. “You’re right, but what do you mean, ‘make the call?’ Why’d they let her go?”
“Oh, that’s the greatest part,” I added with a sadistic chuckle. “Her uncle’s Mayor Dihler.”
“Oh…,” she whispered.
“Did I hear you say they let that woman go?” shouted Vivian as she padded into the room, still dressed in her nightgown.
“Yep, that about sums it up.”
“Damn inept sons of bitches!” She stopped in the living room and placed her hands on her hips.
“I know,” I muttered. “But you seem to be doing better.” The determined set of her face had returned.
Paige added, “And now she’s free to do it again.”
“That’s just our luck,” Vivian spat. “Who knows how many times she’s done it already? This may not be the first. If they’d stopped her before, Frank might still be alive.”
“Well, I know this is going to sound horrible,” Paige interjected, “but you know how bad they are at marking the curves in these mountains.”
Vivian and I both nodded.
“I’ve learned to look for other markers. If I see a collection of crosses, I know it’s bad, so I slow down.” She paused to let her words sink in.
I winced at the callousness of her perspective.
“I’m not trying to be cruel, but it’s true. And if we can’t do anything to stop her, maybe we can warn the people on the road.”
We considered the idea for a moment. “I’ve thought about it, but not for those reasons. I even had Gail set a memorial cross aside for me.”
“Then we should do it. Do you think she could get a few more together?”
Both women turned to me. Confusion knitted its way through my mother’s features while Paige looked on in approval.
“If they’ll slow down for one, they have to really think twice if there are a half dozen or so. Besides, if the last act in Frank’s honor is to save lives, don’t we owe it to him to do it? He was just a confused kid like me.”
Vivian smiled. “I’ll call her up and tell her we’ll be over to pick up the lot in an hour. I think I saw some displays at her florist shop when I stopped in last.”
“Okay, I’ll go get Abby. Oh, and Fred said the funerals are tomorrow.”
“Wow, that’s quick,” she added, mimicking Paige without realizing it.
After I told her what we were doing, Abby crawled out from under the sheets. Less than an hour later, we were on the road to Gail’s. The cluster of crosses we hammered into the ground were all white. Various leaves and flowers weaved around the painted wood and across their arms. In the center was the largest of the group. Blue Delphiniums framed Frank’s photo for all to see. If it saved one life, it was worth it.
Chapter 31
Friday
October 14, 1995
The funeral came sooner than I wanted. The sun stood peering over the tree line by the time we’d slipped into our blacks and headed for the cemetery. The bright glowing ball seemed lonely, yet strong, holding the sky on its back and encouraging the world to grow and move on. I clenched my fists, testing them for the task ahead. They were still bruised, but the soreness had diminished. That morning, the morose silence that had become characteristic of our household carried over into the car ride. It was as though God had muted the world. Reality was crowded enough without unnecessary talk. We arrived early. I visited my father and his solitary pine.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, kneeling beside his name. “Times have been really tough, but I’m trying to keep it together. I’m doing what I think you’d do. I just wish life were a bit more balanced. How many other people have the luck of burying a brother and sister within a week and a father before that?”
The morning breeze whistled through the tree limbs, speaking for those beneath my feet. I ran a hand along his portrait. “I know, Dad. I will. I’m sorry I questioned why you put your life on the line for others. I know what it meant to you now. I love you, and I’ll always miss you.”
Rising to my feet, I trudged toward the funeral home. The service was long, but I didn’t catch most of Father Gilbert’s words. Glory’s miniscule casket lay alone in the center, dwarfed by Frank and Helen’s, perched mere feet away. I remember thinking how odd it was that so many people would come to see the dead when they didn’t celebrate them in life. The scant flowers on Gloria’s casket proved that it made no difference whether or not they deserved the sentiments. For so long I had ignored the innocent cherub, pushing her aside because of my own selfish concerns. When I finally stood up and took notice, I couldn’t keep him away from her. My guilt gorged itself throughout the service. I volunteered to be a pallbearer for Glory and watched as they lowered them both into the hollow pits of earth.
Before leaving, Father Gilbert sought me out and took my hand. “I know this is hard for you, Alex, but you really did a heck of a job. It would have been worse if you hadn’t been there.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, “A lot of good it did.” Turning away, I headed to the car.
On the way home, Vivian dropped me at school. The final period of the day was only minutes away. Students gawked as I strode toward class in my black butt
on up and slacks.
“Hey, aren’t you Johnny Cash?” croaked one joker in passing.
Paige’s eyes grew when I entered the room. She leapt up from her seat and pulled me into the hall. “Just go home,” she pleaded.
“I can’t. We have to present.”
“No, we don’t. I can take care of this!”
“I know you can,” I whispered, taking her hand in mine, “but this is something I’ve got to do.”
“You can’t. You’re still dressed for the funeral,” she whined, but with less conviction than before.
“True, but I think it fits the occasion perfectly.”
Before another word could be spoken, the bell chimed, and Mr. Broaderick opened his grade book. “Hello, class. I hope you’re ready for today.”
Concerned students swallowed a lump in their throats while others looked over their notes. The unconcerned snuck glances my way, accompanied by hurried hissing to a neighbor. Mr. Broaderick called on Stephanie and Patrick who approached with worried eyes, reports straining against their fingers, attempting escape. Swallowing her apprehension for the final time, Stephanie began. I pulled a hand-sized notepad and pencil from my pocket, the only things I’d carried into school besides my father’s dog tags.
Corporal Jack’s voice danced through the air for my ears alone. “Now it’s your time,” he rasped with confidence.
Putting pencil to paper, I scrawled, Now is our time, but we can’t forget those who came before us…
The words flowed without thought. Before I knew it, strangers had come and gone, preaching their thoughts and quoting the dead. Mr. Broaderick’s eyes landed on me as though every second I’d lived amounted to this day. I patted my shirt for good luck and the dog tags clinked together. I stood and approached the podium. Paige rose, attempting to organize her index cards. At the front, I turned and met thirty avid faces. The joking nudges stopped as they waited. Never before would they have given me such rapt attention. A glance at Paige revealed turbulent eyes.
“I got this,” I whispered with a smile. She quirked an eye, but lowered her cards.
A Life of Death: Episodes 5 - 8 Page 6
