My Name Is River Blue

by Noah James Adams

  "I moved out of the house today, and I'll be sharing the barn apartment with Manny. Miss Martin helped me get a small, monthly disability check that will help support me until I can work enough hours that I don't need it. I'm going to do some part-time office work for the farm, and I might fill in at the front desk of the fitness center too. Papa told me that he would fully support me and just wanted me to go to school, but I feel like I should do as much as I can on my own.'

  "Everything sucked after the accident. I didn't care much about anything, and I wasn't making any plans for the future. Papa, Miss Martin, and the Mackeys woke my butt up and helped me get some state benefits extended until I'm twenty-one. I get to keep my medical insurance, and I have the foster kid scholarship money to start community college in the fall. It's funny how all I thought about for years was going to a major university, and now I'm going to Bergeron Community College. It'll be embarrassing if I flunk out of there.'

  "I've had my last surgery unless something changes. I got so many artificial parts in me; I'm like the damn bionic man, except I can't run fast or do any other amazing shit. I even got a couple of spinal discs from some dead guy, but I try not to think about that creepy cadaver crap inside me. No offense.'

  "I'm still going to physical therapy, and I have exercises that I do each day on my own. My strength is a lot better, and I can do most simple things for myself now. I take a bunch of pills every day, and I guess I always will. I never have a day without pain, but it's amazing what a person can get used to.'

  "People say I'm lucky to be alive. After working so hard for my future, I don't feel so lucky to have it snatched away like that. I don't feel lucky to deal with pain every damned day with no end in sight, and most of all, I don't feel lucky that I lost you.'

  "Ant, I would have traded places with you, if I could have. It would have made more sense for me to die because you were a better person, a stronger person. You could have made something out of my life, and I'm not sure I can. The world definitely became a crappier place when you left.'

  "About the accident, the cops say they investigated all that they could, but we'll probably never know who ran us off the road. The cops think it was a drunk or just a reckless trucker who was going too fast and hit some ice. Sometimes I think the driver hit us on purpose, but like I told the cops, I don't know anyone who would have done that to us. I thought about the two threatening letters I got, but the last one was more than three years ago, and I really doubt it was the same person.'

  "For a while, the cops and the hospital kept me under guard in case there was really a nut trying to kill me. Miss Martin thought it could have been Craig Krieger getting revenge for what I did to him in Stockwell, so she asked the cops to check. Krieger's PO said that as soon as Craig was released from Stockwell, he broke parole, and word is that he moved to Louisiana to live with a cousin there. Miss Martin also thought of CO Malley, but the cops told her that he somehow ended up in the federal prison in Atlanta.'

  "Accident or not, no one will ever take the blame for it, and even if they did, it wouldn't bring you back to life or heal my body.'

  "By the way, you were right about Carlee and me. I know you're laughing your caramel-colored ass off, but that's okay, because that's one bet that I don't mind you winning. She's been solid for me. When I get so down about losing you and all the plans we had, she's there to pick me up and give me a reason to keep going. She helps Tina too. Tina really loved you, but I guess you knew that.'

  "Right now, Carlee is on vacation with her family. Can you imagine a vacation with Big Bill? I still wonder why he was so nice about her doing her Christian duty of staying with me in the hospital. Now that I'm an out, he's worried because she's still seeing me. I guess the dumbass finally got a clue. If you hear an explosion, you'll know Carlee told him that she's going to BCC with me.'

  "Well, dude, I better get going. My back aches like a mother when I stand in one place too long, and I still have to go to the bank on my way to the farm. Remember, you're with me every minute of every day. Later, Ant."

  ***

  In only a few weeks, I was back at the cemetery to attend the military funeral of Sergeant Sean Kelley. When he was eighteen, Sean joined the U. S. Army with the intentions of making it his career. He enjoyed the military life and loved the opportunity it gave him to travel to places far away from Harper Springs. Whenever Sean was home on leave, we would meet and update each other on the news in our lives. The last time I saw him was when he visited me in the rehab center. He was taking thirty days leave before shipping out to Iraq where he was killed when his squad's truck ran over an IED.

  Sean had a good heart and did his best to take care of me when I was young. He was far too good a man to lose his life in a war based on a lie created by a group of rich, old white men. Men who became richer at the expense of people like Sean Kelley and those who loved him.

  ***

  Inside First Regional Bank, I waited in line for Mrs. Bell, a teller, to finish with the two customers in front of me. I recognized all three people waiting in line for the other teller, and I was prepared to speak to them, but they pretended not to notice me. Since I was no longer a football star, many people had no use for me, and it suited me fine because I hated acting polite to bigots.

  I handed Mrs. Bell a deposit slip and my check. Since most people in Bergeron County looked down on anyone receiving what they called a "government handout," I was uncomfortable, but Mrs. Bell was still just as nice as I remembered her.

  Mrs. Bell was an attractive, well-dressed African-American woman in her fifties, but she looked much younger. Ant and I used to go to the bank together, and as Ant did with many people, he made friends with Mrs. Bell the first time we met her. He would speak to her as if she were a high school girl, telling her how hot she looked that day, and he would always remind her to call him if her husband was ever dumb enough to leave her. I would have been slapped for some of the things he said, but he had such a way with women of any age that they would simply giggle, blush, and beg for more. I smiled when I remembered how Mrs. Bell's face glowed each week when Ant and I came in to deposit our checks.

  "River, it's good to see you," said Mrs. Bell. "I'm so sorry about the accident. It just broke my heart when I heard. Are you getting along okay?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I'm hanging in there. Thanks for asking. Mrs. Bell, would you mind printing my balance on the receipt? I haven't really looked at my statements or balanced my checkbook in months. Oh, another thing. Could you update my address in your computer? I wrote it underneath the old one on my deposit slip." I wondered what she thought about my new address at Deer Lake Farm.

  "I'll take care of everything." As Mrs. Bell typed on her keyboard, I noticed a sudden change in her expression. My stomach sank, and I hoped that my account had not been overdrawn for months. I couldn't afford to owe more return check fees than my little check would cover. I could transfer money from my small savings account into my checking to pay the fees, but I hated to use the money I struggled so hard to save.

  "Is something wrong?" I asked.

  Mrs. Bell typed on her keyboard again before answering me. "Well, no. Not at all. I thought I might have entered the wrong account number, but I double-checked. Here's your cash and your receipt, River."

  I breathed easier as I watched her count out my cash. I took the money and my receipt, thanked her, and placed the bills in my wallet. On the way out the door, I glanced at the receipt and abruptly stopped. I studied it carefully. I thought how nice it would be if it were only accurate. I turned around to speak to Mrs. Bell, who was still free of customers.

  "Mrs. Bell? This can't be right. It says that I had $25, 158.03 before today's deposit. That's at least $25,000.00 too much."

  "Well, River, I have to admit that I wondered, but I assumed that it might be an insurance payment or money the boosters collected for you after your accident. I'm going to let you speak to Mrs. Carson. She can help us figure out where the mistake is."


  "Thanks, Mrs. Bell." How I wished that I really had that much money, but it would have been stupid to spend any of it. I knew that the bank would eventually catch the error and want their money back.

  I watched Mrs. Bell call Mrs. Carson from her office. I played football with Gary Carson, her son, and I knew her pretty well from the times that Gary invited Ant and me to swim at their home. She was always nice to us, especially to Ant, but sometimes we thought that she tried too hard to show that she wasn't prejudiced against any of her son's non-white teammates. Rather than treating us exactly as she would the white boys, she treated us better. On one occasion, it was so obvious that Gary apologized to us, but Ant and I both laughed it off and told him that his mom meant well, and I really believe she did. She was a kind woman.

  "River, it's so good to see you, honey. How have you been doing?" Mrs. Carson was as friendly as ever. Just as I would expect the bank manager to be. The only difference was that she probably didn't hug most of her customers as she did me.

  "I'm fine, ma'am. Good to see you too."

  "What can I help you with?" Mrs. Carson looked to Mrs. Bell and then to me. Mrs. Bell explained the problem, and Mrs. Carson directed me into her office where I took a seat in front of her desk.

  "Okay, River, let's see if I can figure out what happened. I'm not surprised that you would do the right thing. I have always said what a good boy you are. Oops, excuse me, I mean a good man. Gary corrects me now that he's eighteen and a high school graduate."

  I chuckled politely at Mrs. Carson's joke and watched as she typed on her keyboard, studied her monitor, and then changed to another screen. She repeated the process until I wondered how many different ways she had of looking at the same thing. I must have sat there for at least fifteen minutes while she continued to enter key strokes and study her monitor. It was long enough for my back to begin screaming, as it usually did, when I sat too long. Finally, she turned to me.

  "Well, River, I have verified it every way that I can, and I can tell you that your balance is correct. Someone made a deposit of $25,000 in your account on Wednesday, January 7, and the person used one of your deposit slips. Unfortunately, we went live on a new system that week and lost partial information for the three days of Monday through Wednesday. We lost no information that would affect anyone's account balance, but we did lose some details, most of which we never use unless it's for a situation like this. For example, I can't even be sure which branch took the deposit. However, the important part is that the money is yours, River."

  I couldn't speak for a moment and when I did, I could only register more doubt. "Mrs. Carson, it's not possible. You know my situation. Can you logically think of anyone who would deposit that money into my account?"

  "Maybe Papa? Is it possible that he or the boosters did something nice for you?"

  I thought about it and while it was possible, it was farfetched. "The boosters would never give that kind of money to a former player. Papa and I are very close, but he knows that I wouldn't accept that much money."

  "Maybe that's why he did it anonymously," offered Mrs. Carson. "He might have made the deposit in a neighboring town where people in the bank wouldn't recognize him. He could have even used cash, so it couldn't be traced to him."

  "Wait a minute. How would someone get one of my deposit slips? It would have to be someone really close to me unless there were two people involved."

  "Isn't that more reason to believe it was Papa?"

  "I guess so, but I can't imagine him thinking I would accept it." I paused and then I had to ask one more time. "Mrs. Carson, I don't want to get on your nerves, but are you absolutely sure that the money is mine? I mean that no one is coming after me later on if I spend any of it?"

  Mrs. Carson placed her hand on mine. "River, honey, I'm sure. The money is yours to do with as you see fit. If there had been an error, we would have caught it long before now. I think with all that you have been through that you deserve some kindness and good fortune, and maybe that's exactly what your benefactor thought."

  "Maybe so. Well, I don't want to take any more of your time. Thank you, Mrs. Carson."

  "River, I want you to come see us. We'll have a few more pool parties, and I know that Gary would like to see you before he leaves for college. Give him a call."

  "Yes, ma'am. I guess I haven't been a very good friend to Gary or anyone else since the accident. I'll try to do better. Thanks again for your help."

  Gary had visited me a few times in the hospital and at Tolley House. I had been polite to him, but things were different. I didn’t feel comfortable around my former teammates. It was worse seeing Gary and Max because both of them had football scholarships and reminded me of what I had lost. Max had a full ride to the university that Ant and I would have attended. As wealthy as his family was, Max didn't even need the scholarship, but it was a matter of bragging rights to him and his family. To me, it sucked to take a scholarship he didn’t need. It meant there was one less scholarship for a poor kid.

  On the way to my new home at Deer Lake Farm, I thought of how to approach Papa about the money he must have deposited in my account. As much as I wanted to keep it, I didn't feel right about it. Papa had always been generous, but I never took advantage. He would have to take back the money, or I would donate it to the booster club or the boys at Tolley House. The state wouldn't allow me to have that much money and accept disability checks, so no matter what, I would have to do something with it or stop my checks. Someone's good deed was stressing me more than helping me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  When I arrived at the farm, I drove around behind the barn that housed Manny's upstairs apartment. I parked near the outside stairs because it would be a shorter trip than lugging my belongings through the barn. I had just opened my trunk when I saw Papa walking towards me. Dressed in his usual farm attire of a plaid shirt, jeans, and a Hawks baseball cap, the big man grinned widely and greeted me in his loud, friendly voice. With Papa's help, we had all my possessions inside my new room in two trips. It would take more time to unpack, but there was no rush, and Papa invited me up to his house for lunch.

  We ate vegetable soup and ham sandwiches, and I was much hungrier than I thought. It had taken a long time after the accident for me to regain my appetite, but with time to heal and the right combination of medicines lessening my pain, I was maintaining a healthy diet again.

  As usual, Papa dominated our conversation in which we discussed my responsibilities in return for room, board, and wages. Papa didn't want to set conditions for me living on the farm, but he did as I asked because he understood my desire to feel as useful and independent as my health allowed. I had too much pride to be his charity case, and I was determined to do all the work I could within my limitations. I knew that it would be a long time, if ever, that I would be able to do any strenuous work, and that I would require frequent rest periods during a day of even light work. My plan was to increase my activity, as I grew stronger.

  Since Manny and Papa hated computers and paperwork, Papa planned to teach me how to do those chores so that it freed them for other tasks. I had to learn how to pay bills, take inventory, and order supplies. I would schedule riding lessons, trail rides, and vet visits. I would also be responsible for billing customers for riding lessons, horse training, and boarding. There was much more to the horse farm business than I ever knew, and I was interested in learning it all.

  When he finished his lunch, Papa studied me a moment before speaking. "River, I'm really happy to have you here. It will be a good situation for both of us."

  "Thanks, Papa. I hope I can help enough to make up for all that you're doing for me."

  "You'll do fine."

  "Papa, there's something else I need to discuss with you."

  "Okay, shoot."

  "I went by the bank on the way over here and got a surprise when they gave me my checking balance. I thought it was a mistake, but Mrs. Carson verified that it's not. Someone used one of my deposit slip
s and put $25,000 in my account back on January 7."

  I could tell from the look on Papa's face that he didn't do it. "You don't have any idea who gave you the money?"

  "No, sir. I thought it was you."

  "No, River. You made it clear that you want to work for what you get. No other ideas who gave it to you?"

  "I can't think of anyone, and I wonder how the person got one of my deposit slips. It would have been easy for the Mackeys, but I don't think they have that kind of money, and I can't see them giving me that much if they did."

  Papa immediately gave me an idea. "One morning, a week or so after the accident, Jenny saw your nightstand drawer open when she came to sit with you. She told me that someone just entering your room was at the right angle to see the personal items that they took off you in the ER. Your checkbook, wallet, keys, and watch. Jenny thinks that one of the nurses placed excess "get well" cards in the drawer, and didn't close it back all the way. Someone else could have seen your checkbook like Jenny did, and took out a deposit slip while you were asleep. Anyway, Jenny took your things home with her to keep them safe for you."

  "But who would have taken the slip and made that deposit? And why?"

  "I don't know, River. Obviously, someone who wanted to help you. People can do some unbelievable things sometimes. Did you read all your "get well" cards and the little floral cards on your flowers? Did anyone mention giving you a gift?"

  "Jenny bagged them up for me and said I should write thank you notes, but I never even read them."

  "If you still have them, take a look. Maybe someone mentioned it."

  "Yes, sir. That's an idea." I was embarrassed for Papa to know that I had not thanked people for the plants and flowers.

  Papa stood. "Well, I'm going to get back to work while you unpack and get settled in. Take time for a nap, and I'll have dinner ready at six. Manny is out running some errands, and he'll probably be late coming home."