Always a Kicker

by Jeff Zwagerman

  There was food all over. He decided to make some coffee and check to see what was there to eat for breakfast. There were eggs and bacon in the refrigerator but Zander decided to cut himself a huge piece of cake. There were many to choose from and he found a Red Velvet Cake that had promise. He was right. It was excellent and with the coffee it was the best breakfast he ever had. He could get used to eating like this.

  Reality hit shortly after the last forkful.

  He had no idea how to proceed. He walked over to the front door and looked out. The cars were all gone. Now that he needed some direction, everyone was gone. He was about to close the door when a car pulled up into the driveway. Zander didn’t know who it was but the guy saw Zander and smiled.

  “Hello I’m Pastor Ron. I’m your parent’s minister. You must be Sander,” he said and put out his hand. Zander grabbed it.

  “I’m so happy you’re here. I don’t know what to do,” Zander said relieved.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Pastor Ron said.

  Zander thought he seemed like a good guy. He was probably in his forties and quite tall. Almost as tall as Zander which made talking to him seem easier. Zander even endured a long prayer before they got down to business.

  After forty-five minutes, most of the arrangements had been made for the funeral. The minister would contact the funeral home in Orange City about the arrangements but Zander would have to go and pick out the caskets and vaults. It would be a closed casket funeral on Monday morning at 10:30.

  “What happened?” Zander wondered since no one really had talked about it.

  “I am so sorry. Hasn’t anyone told you anything?” the minister asked and Zander thought he actually seemed really sorry about it.

  “All anyone said was that they were sorry,” Zander replied.

  “I’ll tell you what I know. Your parents were heading south out of town on highway 60. When they reached the curve, their car drifted over the centerline and into the path of an eighteen-wheeler. The truck driver tried to avoid them and his truck jack-knifed. They hit the trailer full force taking off the top of their car and then the trailer flipped right onto the car and drug it for a quarter of a mile. There wasn’t much left.”

  “How about the truck driver?” Zander wondered.

  “He’s in the hospital in pretty rough shape. They expect him to pull through though. He’s a mess. I went to visit him this morning. He’s blaming himself but it wasn’t his fault. He did everything he could to avoid the accident.”

  Zander wondered if it was an accident after all.

  He would go to visit the guy when he went over to pick out the caskets. No sense him carrying any guilt.

  As Jasper had said, “This shit happens.”

  As Pastor Ron was ready to leave he said, “This is really beyond the scope of things I should be doing but if I were you I’d go down to the bank and see what your parents financial situation might be and whether they have a safety deposit box. So often people don’t think about those things. Sometimes people leave instructions and it might have some impact on funeral decisions.”

  Zander thanked him for the advice and asked if he had any other questions if he could call him. Pastor Ron gave Zander his card and said he could call anytime. Zander liked him. The minister seemed honest enough and he needed someone he could trust right now.

  *****

  Zander decided to go to the bank first since it was only open until noon on Saturdays. Then he would go to the funeral home and stop off at the hospital. He decided to hang a note on the front door letting people know he wouldn’t be back until mid-afternoon.

  His T-Bird seemed to be a little pretentious so he decided to take his father’s work van parked out back. He went to the hooks where his parents always hung their keys and there behind the key to the van was a single key with a label on it. It said “safety deposit box”. Zander thought it was strange they would hang the key out in the open on that hook. He grabbed both keys and went out the back door to the van.

  It was a cargo van not unlike the one Zander drove except it was only a year old and Ford no longer made the cab-overs. The motor was mostly under the hood like a normal vehicle. Zander thought he might keep it. He could retrofit it with the stuff out of his old van. He might just give the old Econoline to Fats. Maybe he could drive it and save the Cameo since it was such a rare vehicle. He would have to remember to call Fats and Jo later to let them know what was going on.

  When Zander got to the bank everyone told him how sorry they were for his loss. Zander nodded and thanked them. He remembered one of the tellers from high school. She was a year younger than he was and was always a pretty girl. She still looked good, only a little older and a bit heavier. He thought her name was Marla but he didn’t call her by name just in case he was wrong. He only waved and she smiled back.

  The bank president ushered Zander into his office and closed the door.

  “How can I help you?” he asked politely.

  The guy had always been at the bank. His name was Jurrens or something like that. Zander remembered him from his youth. His father sold him appliances and a TV or two over the years. When you lived in a small town you’d better darn well do business with the people who kept your bank going. He remembered his father saying words to that effect.

  “I guess I need to know about my father’s finances,” Zander said quietly.

  “Certainly. Let me get some statements ready for you.”

  He went out to one of the tellers and after a short time returned.

  “They will be ready for you in a moment.”

  “They?” Zander wondered.

  “Well his business accounts and his personal accounts,” Jurrens answered.

  “I see. Are there any outstanding notes that need to be paid off?’ Zander asked.

  The banker smiled. “Nothing. Your father was quite a businessman. He always paid cash. I can only remember once in all the years ever loaning him money and that was for thirty days to get a huge shipment of appliances taking advantage of the bulk discounts. He paid off the loan in less than twenty days.”

  Zander was relieved. He had no idea how much money his parents had. Sharing financial information with children was something that their Dutch background seemed to prohibit. It was good to know he didn’t have to worry about any loans to pay off.

  The door opened and the teller brought in the statements. Jurrens looked them over and handed them to Zander.

  “There is quite a bit of money in his accounts,” he said, “we hope you will keep us in mind when deciding who you want to manage it.”

  Zander nodded. Where else would he go with it? He looked at the business statement first. Withdrawals and deposits filled pages of computer printouts. Zander went to the last page to look for the bottom line. Then he saw it. He almost fell off his chair. The checking account had 639,069.37 resting on the last line. Zander looked up at Jurrens. Apparently he looked puzzled.

  “If you think that’s a lot of money you’d better hold onto that chair when you look at his personal accounts,” Jurrens said good-naturedly.

  Zander paged through the personal accounts. It didn’t take long because there were only deposits no withdrawals. His parents had a number of saving accounts. There were five to be exact and they had over 250,000.00 in each. That was almost two million dollars all totaled and that didn’t include the business or home. Zander would be rich. He didn’t know how he felt about it.

  Jurrens was saying something, “You know that Hospers doesn’t have a full time attorney but your parents used the one that comes to this bank once a week for their legal stuff and taxes. I would recommend you talk with him before you do anything. You need to walk through probate very carefully so things don’t get complicated.”

  “I guess I would be the executor since I’m the only one left,” Zander said simply.

  “Do you have a copy of the will?” Jurrens asked.

  “Not yet. But I have a key to a deposit box. I was hoping i
t would be in there.”

  “Well no matter. The attorney will have a copy. Let’s get you in that deposit box,” Jurrens said as he grabbed some keys.

  They went to the walk-in safe area where the boxes were kept. After inserting both keys, Jurrens brought the box out to the table in the middle of the safe.

  “Here you are. I’ll give you some privacy to go through it. If you need anything, be sure to ask someone,” Jurrens said and was gone.

  There were a number of documents in the box. There were the titles to his father’s van and the car that didn’t exist anymore. He found an envelope labeled last will and testament. He looked through it and it was pretty standard leaving everything to surviving family. That only left Zander.

  Then he saw it. It was a legal sized envelope in his father’s handwriting. It said simply Sander Van Zee on the outside and it was sealed. Zander ripped it open and began reading.

  Dear Sander,

  If you are reading this then your mother and I are gone. I hope you can forgive me but I couldn’t bear the thought of living a life without her. We’ve been together for so long, it just didn’t seem right for us to be apart.

  The cancer was aggressive. It was a pancreatic death sentence. I was watching her go downhill quickly. I wanted to wait until you came home so you could say goodbye but the opportunity was going too fast. I am sorry.

  I was never a very good parent. I know that. There was no universal guide to raising a son. Dr. Spock didn’t give us enough to go on so we just tried to wing it. I was disappointed when you decided not to follow in my shoes and run the business. You would have been good at it. People always liked you. But your mother told me to let you go. She always said people had to find their own way in life. I see that now. I hope you can see it as well.

  I don’t have any life insurance. I never believed in it. So I don’t think there won’t be any inquiry into the accident. I think there’s enough money for you to do whatever you want. You can do with it as you wish. There are no strings and no requests.

  If you wanted to stay on and run the business that would be fine. If not, there’s a young man who has been working for me who I think would want a chance at it. All I ask is that if that’s the way you decide to go that you treat him fairly. He’s young and has a young wife and two little boys and they don’t have much of anything. I was going to stipulate that in my will but I wanted you to make those decisions.

  This was the hardest decision I ever had to make. The second hardest was writing this letter. Your mom and I love you, son, and if you would see it in your heart, please destroy this letter. It serves no purpose for anyone else to know.

  Your Dad

  So there it was. It was no accident. His father drove into that truck. Zander knew it must have been a terrible decision. After all, these Reformers didn’t believe in suicide. His father had to be out of his mind with grief to do such a thing.

  Zander folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. No one ever needed to see this. He would burn it later.

  There was one more manila envelope at the bottom of the box. Zander took it out and opened the clasp. It was filled with money. He counted out 100,000.00 before he was through. This was money he could use right now and he didn’t have to worry about listing it on the assets because he was the only person in the world to know it existed.

  Zander put the money back in the envelope and stuck the will and titles in the same envelope. He made sure the box was completely empty and put it back into place. Before he left the bank, he gave the key to Jurrens and told him he no longer needed the box and he could rent it to someone else.

  It was a brisk November day but the sun was shinning. It made Zander feel just a little bit better as he got into the van and headed to make the funeral arrangement. He would stop at the hospital and try to convince the truck driver that it was not his fault. The fault was his father’s but no one else ever need know about it.

  29

  Hospers, Iowa--Sunday, November 3, 1985

  Sunday was another blur for Zander. There were people still coming to the house with food but it was slowing down much to his relief.

  The funeral director set up a “visitation” for the afternoon from two until six with the family being present from four until six. Zander wondered why they were doing it because the caskets would be closed but he was told it was for people to pay their respects.

  Zander figured it would be easier to just go along with it. He found a recent picture his parents had taken for the church registry and decided to put it on his mothers coffin.

  At 3:00 he decided to go to the chapel the funeral home had for such occasions. When he opened the door he was hit with a rushing smell of flowers. It was so overpowering that it almost made him gag. The place was filled with flowers and plants and their smells were in competition with each other. Zander wondered what he was going to do with all of it and told the funeral director as much.

  “Some people like to keep some of the plants as a memory,” the director told Zander.

  “That wouldn’t interest me,” Zander replied.

  “Don’t worry. We will find a home for everything after the funeral on Monday,” he said and patted Zander’s arm.

  Zander wandered over to the registry and noticed a number of names already signed into the book. It was meaningless to him. These funeral traditions were confounding to him.

  There was a basket with envelopes next to it. Apparently it was for donations. Zander decided he would give everything to the town library. They always seemed to need funding. Maybe he could do even more, remembering how much money he now controlled.

  People started to file in and Zander took his place between the caskets and began his hand shaking and hugging ordeal. It would be a full three-hour stint. It was obvious that the times listed were only targets and people would keep coming until well past six.

  People surrounded Zander but he had never been more alone.

  *****

  At 6:30 the people stopped coming into the chapel. Zander was relieved because he was actually exhausted. He had heard what a wonderful couple his parents were from almost everyone who came to shake his hand. Zander wondered if these people had ever told them that while they were living. He doubted it very much. It took death for people to tell someone how they felt. They might be perceived as weak to put it out there for everyone to see while folks were living.

  Zander was in the process of removing his parent’s picture from his mother’s casket when he felt someone touch his arm. He turned and looked into “her” eyes but they weren’t her eyes exactly. They were Sheila’s.

  She hugged him around his waist for an uncomfortably long time. Then she looked up.

  “I’m so sorry, Zander. I waited until everyone was gone so we could talk. I know you have a lot on your mind right now but I needed to see you.”

  Zander led her over to some chairs and they sat.

  “It’s fine, Sheila. The shock has worn off. I was actually planning to look you up after the funeral if I didn’t see you before. It’s so nice to see someone I know. Twenty years is a long time and I recognize some of the older folks but I don’t know most of the people.”

  “It has to be hard coming back here for you especially under these circumstances.”

  Zander looked at her and nodded in agreement. Then he came right out and asked her the question he supposed she really wanted to talk about.

  “Did she call you?”

  Sheila’s face immediately brightened.

  “She called almost a week ago. We spoke for over an hour and it was just like we were still young and living at home before all the bad.”

  “Did she tell you everything?” Zander wondered.

  “Enough. I got the picture anyway. I asked her for her phone number but she didn’t give it to me. She told me it was easier for her to call me. She called again on Friday and I told her about your parents. She said she would try to contact you so I gave her your parent’s phone nu
mber and their store number as well. Has she called?”

  “I haven’t heard anything. She has my answering service as well so I’m a little surprised I haven’t heard from her,” Zander said.

  “I told her she should come to the funeral but she told me she could never come back here and that pretty much ended the conversation.”

  “She’s not the same person you once knew, Sheila.”

  “I pretty much figured that out. What happened to her, Zander?”

  So for the next hour Zander explained what had happened starting with the plot of twenty years prior to the last time he saw Sara Jane. He tried to put her in the best light he could but he felt Sheila should know everything about her sister. As hard as it was to tell, Zander could see it was harder for Sheila to hear.

  When all the questions had been answered and the story had reached the end, the two just sat and looked at each other.

  “Will I ever see her again?’ Sheila asked.

  “I don’t know. I know she’ll never return here so you might have to look her up in Colorado.”

  “That’s what I figured. Maybe I’ll give it some time and try next summer.”

  The lights went off and then back on. The funeral director was telling them it was time to go. Zander stood and gave Sheila a hug and they walked out into the cold air.

  “Thanks for everything, Zander. You can’t possibly know how important this has been for me.”

  “I did it as much for me. Probably more so.”

  Then Zander remembered he still had her cell phone number. He gave it to Sheila. She thanked him and told him she would try it yet that evening.

  Zander walked back to the van. He was alone again.

  30

  Hospers, Iowa―Monday, November 4, 1985