Purely by Accident

by Jim Beegle

  When he got finished in the house he locked it back up and walked into the barn. He saw the old truck and the loft Mark had been working on. He paused there imagining what it would be like to have a place like this to escape to every once in a while. He toyed with the idea before forcing himself back to the present. It was time to get going and he didn’t want to be late for his next appointment.

  Mrs. Willies opened the door for the lawyer from Dallas before he even knocked. He had called the day before and spoken to Mr. Willies. Country folks are always suspicious when city people want to call on them. Foreigners, as non-locals were assumed to be, trying to steal something or sell something. The locals are even more suspicious when the foreigner happens is a lawyer. The only way he had been able to get past the hurdle of their distrust was to tell them that his client, Mr. Mark Vogel, requested he deliver something to the Willies on his behalf.

  Mark’s name was obviously the magical password. They set the appointment for after six. Mr. Willies apologized to him over the phone for having to meet at such a late hour, but didn’t feel it would be a good idea to miss any work right now, what with it being winter, close to Christmas, and work at the shop being slow right then.

  Mrs. Willies led him into the living room and introduced him to her husband, and their son and daughter. He sat down in the worn chair offered to him that he knew immediately belonged to Mr. Willies, and also the best chair in the house. Mrs. Willies brought him a cup of coffee he did not ask for and seated herself on the couch beside her husband.

  Something told Winston that they had all bathed and dressed in their Sunday best church clothes in honor of his visit. The house had been picked up and everything smelled of lemon furniture polish. For a brief moment he felt uncomfortable in his five-hundred-dollar suit and hundred dollar shoes. Then he remembered why he was there and got down to business. He opened his briefcase, removed several documents and folders, and put the briefcase on the floor beside the chair.

  “As I told you on the phone yesterday, I represent your neighbor, Mr. Vogel,” Winston said.

  “Is Mark all right?” Mrs. Willies asked with real concern. “We haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks. When he’s gone that long, he usually calls.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Vogel is fine. He’s been out of the country,” the lawyer assured her.

  “Well, you tell him to call and not to worry me like that again,” she said masking her relief with a scolding. Winston tried to suppress a smile.

  “Yes ma’am, I will do that,” the lawyer said.

  “Momma,” Mr. Willies spoke for the first time “be quiet and let the man get on with what he came here for. I’m sure he’s got better things to do than gossip with you about the neighbors.”

  “Sorry,” Mrs. Willies apologized as much to her husband as to Winston.

  “I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I’m sure you have dinner to get on with. I’ll try to be brief.” Winston handed Mr. Willies several documents and the same keys he had used just half an hour earlier.

  “What’s all this,” the older man asked, passing everything to Mrs. Willies. The kids might as well have been statues for all Winston knew. Neither had moved or spoken since his arrival.

  “That, sir, is the deed to Mark’s place. Next door,” he added for further clarification.

  “I have, at Mr. Vogel’s instruction, transferred the ownership of his ranch, including the land, the house, and all the other structures and outbuildings,” Mr. Lawton told them, lapsing momentarily into lawyer-speak, “into your name this afternoon. The deed of trust transferring title was also filed this afternoon at the Wise County Tax Offices. My client, Mr. Vogel, also paid the transfer fees, all the taxes, and other costs associated with this transaction. You will owe no liabilities for this transfer.”

  There was stunned silence. Winston could hear Mr. Willies’ old watch ticking across the room. Finally, Mrs. Willies stirred. “What do you mean, the title was transferred?” she asked.

  “It’s really very simple. Mark is giving you his place.” This did nothing to help bring life to the room, but Winston continued anyway. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a copy of a check.

  “In addition, Mr. Willies, I have placed this check on deposit at the implements store where you are currently working. This $300,000 is not all the money that will be placed in your account. There are still some pending costs that need to be deducted from the money Mr. Vogel left with me. But as soon as all those expenses have been paid, the remainder will be turned over to you as well.”

  “But, but,” Mr. Willis stuttered, “what’s all this for?” He was still looking at the copy of the check as he spoke.

  “I am not positive about this, but I believe Mr. Vogel said you would need that money to buy seed and equipment for next year’s crops. That’s why he had me place it on deposit at the implements store. But if you want it sent somewhere else for something else, just let me know and we’ll move it.”

  “No, no,” Mr. Willies said waving the copy of the check in the air, “why is he giving us his place? I don’t understand.”

  “Oh,” Winston said, now with a clearer grasp of the question. “He’s not actually giving it to you. There is one duty you must perform for him in exchange.”

  Silence again filled the room. Now it was clear, Mr. Willies thought. Just like everything else in their lives. The good parts they could only keep for a moment, like the farm and like little Danny, their son. The bad parts that were left after the good parts had been stripped away, they lasted forever. This had all the makings of being another one of those.

  However, this time he was wrong.

  “Actually it’s not a difficult requirement. It’s something someone asked Mark to do,” he said so they would remember who he was talking

  “He thinks that he will be spending most of his time over the next few years out of the area and wanted to make sure someone was doing it for him.”

  “And just what is it we have to do?” Mrs. Willies asked. She did not think Mark would trick them, but the stranger in front of her, after all, was still a stranger and a lawyer to boot.

  “In the Eastland Cemetery in the city of Eastland, Texas, in Section E5A is the grave of the Cameron family. David Sr., Vera, and David Jr.,” Winston told. “As long as Mark’s ex-property remains in your family, someone is required to go there every so often and put flowers on the plots and make sure they are being taken care of.” Winston offered another paper from his stack, all the while looking at the two kids.

  “That’s it?” Mr. Willies asked. “That’s all he wants us to do?”

  “That’s all there is,” Mr. Lawton assured him.

  Mr. Willies looked down at the copy of the check in his hand and then at the deed and the other documents in his wife’s lap. Then he looked up again at Mr. Lawton.

  “What’s this all about?” he asked slowly, still unable to grasp all that he had just heard. “Why is Mark giving us his ranch? Where is he and will we ever see him again?”

  Winston let out a long breath. He was afraid this was going to happen and Mark had warned him it would. Mark had also given him very specific instructions as to what he could or more to the point what he could not, tell the Willies.

  “As to the last part of your question,” Winston looked at his watch. “He should be halfway to Nassau about now. As to seeing him again, I think you can count on that. He is very fond of you and your family.” Winston shifted in his chair and absentmindedly sipped from the coffee cup.

  “As to the rest of it,” Winston shrugged defensively. “I am not allowed to tell you.”

  “What do you mean, not allowed to tell us?” Mrs. Willies asked. Mark had warned him she would be the one that would pressure him the most.

  “Mr. Vogel has given me some very clear instructions that I cannot, under any circumstances, tell you anything about the events that led up to this.” Winston paused and softened the to
ne in his voice, much like he had with Mark the first time they met.

  “To be honest with you, I don’t even know all of it myself and still don’t understand what little of it I do know. I can tell you this much.” He paused again a slight smile passing over his face.

  “Almost all of this,” he pointed to all the documents, “happened literally by accident.”

  Mr. Willies sat quietly and said nothing for a long time. He thought about his life here on the farm. He thought about Mark and finally about his youngest son, Danny; long gone, but never forgotten. Finally, he looked up at the lawyer from Dallas.

  “Mr. Lawton, do you believe in a God who watches over us? Sends His angels to keep us out of trouble and make sure we get home safe most days?”

  Now it was Winston’s turn to think. The question took him by surprise but he finally answered.

  “Yes sir,” he said. “I think I can honestly say, I do believe that.”

  Mr. Willies looked over at the copy of the check again before speaking. When he did, it was with the boldness of a man who has made up his mind about something very important.

  “Then sir, if you believe that, you can take my word for this: Nothing in this life ever happens to us purely by accident.”

  Purely by Accident is a new novel from author Jim Beegle.

  Jim reluctantly lives in LA* with a pair of otherwise useless cats.

  *Lower Alabama

  For more information please visit us at:

  www.purelybyaccident.com