A Soldier's Promise

by Cynthia Thomason

  Not all that he’d wanted to hear, but it was something. And he’d hold on to that for now.

  “How’s the pizza?” he asked when he sensed they should pursue another topic.

  “It’s great. Why haven’t you had a piece?”

  “I like cold pizza. You acquire a taste for it in the army when you’re at the end of the line in mess.”

  She smiled. “I’m so excited about the unveiling of the center tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “Sure.”

  “I want to be there early so we can attend to any last-minute...”

  She halted when his phone rang. He connected to the unfamiliar number. “Hello.”

  “Mike, this is Boone.”

  “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

  “I have some news for you. I don’t have all the details. In fact, I hardly have any details, but I thought you’d want to know.”

  Mike’s blood chilled. He looked at his watch. Only five after eleven. Carrie wasn’t too late yet. “What is it?”

  “A car went off White Deer Trail a few minutes ago and into the river.”

  He didn’t recognize the croak that came from his throat. “Whose car?”

  “A witness got a description and the first three numbers of the license plate. Based on that, we think it was Charlie Montgomery’s car.”

  The thudding of his heart practically toppled him. “Who was in it?”

  “Don’t know yet. I just got the call. I’m on my way out to the scene now.”

  “Where?” The one word seemed to tear the lining of his throat.

  “About halfway between town and your place. A patrol car should have arrived. You’ll see the flashing lights if you want to come out...”

  Mike disconnected, shoved his cell phone into his shirt pocket and grabbed his keys off the coffee table.

  “What is it?” Brenna asked. “What’s happened?”

  “Accident. Charlie’s car...” He ran out the door, only vaguely aware that she was right behind him. She’d barely closed the passenger door to his truck before he was barreling down the dirt path.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  BRENNA CLENCHED HER hands and prayed, though she didn’t do it often enough to feel as if she deserved God’s attention. But maybe someone up there would listen tonight, and she didn’t know what else to do. “Please let there be a mistake,” she said softly. “Don’t let this be Charlie’s car...”

  Mike kept mumbling, “Lori, I’m sorry.” Their truck swerved on the narrow road despite the force with which his hands clenched the steering wheel. Brenna didn’t know if he was even aware he was driving. He certainly didn’t seem to notice her presence in the truck.

  After what felt like an eternity, flashing lights appeared ahead of them. Mike didn’t slow down until he was practically on top of the two police cars at the edge of the road. Brenna lurched in her seat when he applied the brakes, grateful she’d put on her seat belt. At least four police officers were present. Boone stood on the riverbank looking down at the tail end of a car, its red lights blinking eerily in the darkness. The other cops were tending to people on the ground.

  “Thank goodness,” Brenna said, stumbling out of the truck and running after Mike. “Whoever was inside has been pulled out.”

  Five kids sat on the grassy bank with blankets wrapped around their shoulders. Brenna recognized each of them: boys from the football team, girls she’d introduced to Carrie. But Carrie wasn’t among them.

  Mike grabbed Boone’s arm. “Is it Charlie’s car?” he demanded.

  Boone nodded. “Yeah. Went off the road about—”

  Mike spun away from him, glanced quickly at the five teens and plunged into the water. He shouted Carrie’s name and half walked, half swam to the submerged car door.

  “Mike, no!”

  Brenna barely heard Boone’s call. Her mind couldn’t process anything other than the horrible possibilities. Carrie was still in the car. So was Charlie, her best friend’s son. This couldn’t be happening.

  Brenna felt frozen, unable to go forward, almost unable to breathe. Every second counted. Maybe there was a pocket of air... Almost as great as her fear was the paralyzing thought that Mike would think this was all her fault. She’d introduced Carrie to this group of kids, all fine kids from good homes, kids who were just normal teens who didn’t get into trouble.

  Why did she do it? Why did she get involved? She knew better and now another tragedy, another unbearable loss. Her heart was breaking for Mike. How would he live through this? How could anyone reach him now? And how would she cope with such horrible guilt one more time?

  Mike reached the car door and appeared to struggle with the handle. He banged on the window. Black water swirled around him. His cries carried up to shore. “Help! I need some help here!”

  From somewhere deep inside her brain Brenna thought she heard Boone yell, “Carrie’s not in there!” Boone called again, “That door’s jammed! Come out.” But Mike only doubled his efforts as if he could break the barrier of steel and glass. Boone pointed to another officer. “He’s out of his head. We’ve got to go in and get him.”

  The two cops followed Mike’s path into the river and soon had Mike by his arms and were tugging him to shore. “Listen to me, Mike,” Boone said. “She’s not in the car!”

  Mike’s anguished cries stopped along with his frantic struggle against the two men restraining him. “What? What did you say?”

  The two officers dragged Mike onto the riverbank. With his forearm holding Mike upright, Boone leaned him against a tree. “Listen to me,” Boone said. “Carrie’s not here. All these kids got out before we even got here, and your daughter wasn’t riding with them.”

  Even in the darkness, Brenna saw the whites of Mike’s eyes as he frantically searched the area, finally settling on the five teens. “But it’s Charlie’s car.”

  “Yes, it is. But one of the other boys had the keys.”

  Mike pushed a huge gulp of air from his lungs. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, all five kids are accounted for. Trust me, Mike. There’s nobody in that car.”

  Brenna flattened her hand over her heart, which had started to beat again. Grateful tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Mike’s hand fisted over Boone’s wet shirt. “Then where’s my daughter?”

  Boone shook his head. “I don’t know, buddy. But she’s not in that river, and that’s what you need to concentrate on now.”

  Mike’s body relaxed. His hand fell limp to his side just seconds before his body seemed to lose all muscle tone, and he slipped down the tree trunk to the ground. “She’s not in the river...” His voice sounded hollow, as if the realization were only now settling in.

  Brenna’s cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” Her voice was trembling.

  “Miss Sullivan?”

  Brenna sobbed, gripped the phone more tightly. “Carrie?”

  “I’m sorry to call so late. I tried to reach my dad, but his cell went right to voice mail. Is everything okay?”

  Mike’s cell phone. He’d put it in his shirt pocket. It must be waterlogged now. “Yes, he’s fine. Where are you?” She got Mike’s attention, pointed to her phone and nodded. He got to his feet.

  “I’m with Charlie in town. We need Dad to pick us up. There’s kind of a problem.”

  “Your dad’s right here,” Brenna said. “Hold on.” She passed the phone to Mike. “She wants you to come get her.”

  While Mike talked to his daughter, Brenna walked over to Boone, who was drying off with a blanket. “Need any help?” she asked. “I know all these kids.”

  “They’re okay, and unless you have a dry uniform, I’m the same. I feel bad for Mike. He’s even more soaked than I am. I tried to keep
him from going in the river.”

  “I know, but he was frantic.”

  “Sure. I get that.”

  Boone tossed the blanket into the trunk of his cruiser. “I guess his daughter’s fine. That’s her on the phone, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. She’s okay, but what about the rest of them?” Brenna glanced at the five kids huddled under blankets a few yards away. “How did this happen? Why was someone else driving Charlie’s car?”

  Boone ran his fingers through his sandy-colored hair. “If you get close enough to those kids to smell the air around them, I think you’d begin to have your questions answered.”

  “They were drinking?”

  “No doubt about it, Bren. Not one of them could walk a straight line right now. I’m just glad they had the sense to open the windows as they went over the riverbank. They all crawled out with barely a scratch.”

  “I noticed an ambulance leaving when we pulled up. No one needed transport to the hospital?”

  “No, but they all need a ride home. I’m getting ready to call their parents to come get them.”

  “Those are going to be some very angry parents,” Brenna said. “As well as relieved.”

  Boone nodded. “But each of them will have to come down to the station tomorrow. We don’t take underage drinking lightly around here.” He stared for a moment at the sunken car. “And that’s the reason why.”

  “Do you know why Charlie wasn’t with them?”

  “Yeah, the older kid, Justin, said they wanted to leave the place they’d been hanging out, and Charlie didn’t want to drive.”

  “Smart kid to know his limitations.”

  “I guess. So Justin took the keys from him and drove off, leaving Charlie and Mike’s kid behind.”

  “Charlie didn’t try to stop him?” Brenna asked. She knew how Charlie felt about that car.

  “Couldn’t say,” Boone answered. “But Justin outweighs him by about thirty pounds, so maybe Charlie just let him have his way.”

  Brenna looked at Mike, who was still talking on her phone. “I wonder if Charlie and Carrie had been drinking, too.”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised,” Boone said. “Peer pressure and all that.” He paused to glance at Mike. “And he doesn’t look too happy.”

  It was true. Mike looked miserable and grateful at the same time. He disconnected and walked over to where Brenna and Boone stood. “Here’s your phone,” he said to Brenna.

  She stuffed it in her pocket. “How’s Carrie?”

  “How do you think? In trouble and about to get in even more.” He turned and began walking toward his truck. “I’m going to get her now.”

  Brenna stared at his back. Had he forgotten that she’d ridden out here with him? “I guess that’s my cue,” she said to Boone. “We’re leaving.”

  “I can give you a lift,” he said.

  “Thanks, but I’d like to be with Mike. It’s been a tough night.” For all of them. Brenna hurried to catch up with him. In the back of her mind the fear that he would blame her for what happened took root again. And maybe she was responsible. She had introduced Carrie to these kids, and she had convinced Mike that Carrie was in good company. Bottom line, she’d interfered time and again, just as she knew she shouldn’t have.

  He’d already started the engine when she got in the passenger seat. He didn’t speak or even look at her, just backed up, pulled around a police cruiser and sped toward town.

  “Where is she?” Brenna asked after a moment.

  “In front of the library.”

  “The old library? She’s at the Cultural Arts Center?”

  He nodded once and didn’t add any details.

  “What were they doing there?” she asked.

  “Don’t know.”

  “Were they inside? The doors are always locked.”

  He speared her with an angry look. “Brenna, I don’t know, okay? But something happened and it’s not good. This whole night is a nightmare.”

  “We’ll sort it out,” she said. “The important thing is...”

  His voice was flat and cold when he interrupted her. “The important thing is that I’m through taking advice from anyone. I’m going to trust my own judgment from now on. Carrie is my daughter and nobody is going to tell me how to raise her.” He paused, blinked hard and added, “This has been a real wake-up call.”

  Brenna felt his angry words in the pit of her stomach. She had no doubt that he was referring to her. They drove the rest of the way in silence.

  They pulled into the center’s parking lot just ahead of Diana and Bobby Montgomery. Carrie and Charlie stood up from a brick wall lined with shrubs when they saw the cars. Bobby parked alongside Mike’s truck. Brenna walked around the passenger side and spoke to Diana. “Do you know what happened?”

  “I know some of it. Boone called. I can’t believe these kids have been so foolish.” She watched her husband walk toward Mike. “Bobby is furious.”

  “At least Charlie didn’t get behind the wheel. Justin Hower was driving.”

  “But Charlie gave him his keys. We’ve told him never to do that.”

  Brenna recalled Boone’s theory that alcohol and a belligerent Justin might have contributed to Charlie’s decision, but she decided Diana would find out this information on her own soon enough. Brenna was staying out of the entire unfortunate incident.

  “He also knows to call us whenever drinking’s involved,” Diana said. “We’re not naive that it doesn’t happen, but we don’t allow it under any circumstance.”

  “Mike is angry, too,” Brenna said. “Maybe we’d better go over there in case things get out of hand.”

  So far the fathers didn’t seem to have said much. Both men were huffing and staring and probably grinding their teeth. Brenna thought if she’d been one of their kids, she would be more terrified than if they’d been yelling.

  “Get in the truck,” Mike finally said to Carrie.

  “Not yet, Dad. There’s something you don’t know.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. His hands were fisted. “That you two have been drinking? Mr. Montgomery and I already figured that out.”

  “Okay, I admit it. But we only had a little.”

  “A little is too much. You’re fifteen years old, Carrie!”

  “I know. You don’t have to keep reminding me. But, Dad, that’s not the worst of it.”

  Bobby had pulled Charlie away, and he and Diana were having their own conversation with the boy. Charlie gestured with his hands as if he were trying to explain.

  “Start talking, Carrie, and you’d better get it all out in the open now. When we get home, I’m doing the talking!”

  “All right, but promise me you won’t get mad.”

  Mike’s eyes widened. “Carrie, I left mad on that road two miles out of town. Now I’m furious.”

  “But, Daddy...”

  Brenna wondered if she regularly called him “Daddy.” It didn’t matter. Mike wasn’t falling for it.

  “Talk!”

  “I will! But we have to go inside the building,” Carrie said.

  The Montgomerys joined them. “Charlie wants to show us something in the center,” Bobby said. “I suggest we all go in together.” He looked at Brenna. “Have you got a key?”

  “Sure,” she said before asking Carrie, “How did you kids get inside? The doors are always locked.”

  Carrie hung her head. “There was a window in the back, and, well...”

  “We get the picture,” Mike said. Brenna unlocked the front door. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Brenna preceded the rest of them inside to the all-purpose room. She flipped the switch that controlled several of the overhead lights, and just as Mike had planned, the room was brightly illuminated so all four
corners could be seen.

  Brenna’s heart plunged to her stomach.

  All their hard work. All the volunteer hours. So many people from the community had worked so hard to make the center a reality. All the sacrifices made in the past few weeks swam before her eyes as she stared at the destruction. The walls that she had lovingly painted a satin-beige were covered in graffiti. The classroom partitions had been spray-painted with Losers, geek-freaks and other similarly unflattering terms. Several empty liquor bottles sat on the floor, their partial contents pooling in telltale puddles on the refinished floors. Numerous plastic cups in garish primary colors sat on the chairs and tables.

  Brenna was aware of the others behind her taking in the scene just as she was, but she couldn’t summon the energy to turn around.

  Carrie’s soft voice penetrated the heavy stillness of the room. “I didn’t do this, Dad. It was the other...”

  “No excuses, Carrie. You were here. You’re to blame as much as anyone else.” His voice had an underlying tremor of rage.

  “But, Daddy, you have to believe me.” Carrie’s voice cracked. “Justin and Brad, they were the worst. They were making fun of everything the center was supposed to be.”

  Brenna turned then, a slow, torturous twist of her body. “Is this how the kids really feel about the center?” she asked.

  “Some, maybe. But not me, and not Charlie. I think the center is a good idea.”

  Brenna let out a long, tortured sigh. “How about the rest of the high school kids? Tell me the truth. Is this building just a big joke to everyone or only the few who were here destroying property?”

  “I don’t know,” Carrie said. “I haven’t met that many kids. But probably not. Don’t be upset, Miss Sullivan. I’ll bet a lot of teenagers were looking forward to having this place open. Everyone knows there’s nothing to do in this town.”

  Mike’s mouth barely moved as he said, “Oh, you found something to do.”

  Diana and Bobby had cornered Charlie off to the side and had been hammering him with questions. Bobby looked as if he was ready to explode. Diana, the most caring and compassionate teacher at Mount Union High, just seemed sad. Slowly, they broke apart to begin picking up cups and carrying them to a trash can—an insignificant beginning to what would be a major cleanup.