Book Five - Part Nine - Raging Evil: Chapter Ten

Oak Hills Strip Mall

Ray’s Barber Shop – 12:39 p.m.

Andrew Davis and Ryan Clinton were parked in the mall between Ray’s Barber Shop and Arby’s. Both men were having an Arby’s classic roast beef with curly fries and a cold drink.

“Slow day, Ryan.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No, just saying.”

“We could stand twenty years of slow if you ask me. I want to retire stress-free.”

“Ditto, and....”

A red Dodge Charger ran by them on Town Point Road faster than the posted speed limit by a good thirty miles.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” griped Ryan.

Sandwiches and the drinks forgotten, siren on, the engine racing, they squealed out of the strip mall and in six minutes had the Charger pulled over.

Things weren’t going so well for sixteen-year-old, Chad Nesbit. Today is his birthday. The Charger was a present from his parents. Chad is also the proud owner of his very first $150 speeding ticket.

Brewster Gun Club – 3:46 p.m.

Jimmy had just finished replacing all the used targets, then he swept up the spent cartridge casings which he put into a large container that once a year he sold to a metal recycling plant in Breckenridge. It was never much but two-hundred dollars is still two-hundred dollars.

In forty-five minutes, he would close for the day, then come back and do it all over again tomorrow like clockwork. But there weren’t any more late-night hours. Just like there wouldn’t be anyone at home any longer. To Jimmy, the house was nothing more than a vacant lot with stuff in it.

He had asked himself why dozens of times, he never saw what was coming and why Lydia killed herself. His only answer was that he was a despondent husband caught up in a foggy cloud that shrouded him every day leaving him blind to truths he couldn’t manage. He was hurt and ashamed for not stepping up and being a real husband and a far better father than what he was.

His turning away from realities that surrounded him that seemed to smother him have left him with an even bigger price to pay.

Blake is in a catatonic state of shock. Psychologists and psychiatrists cannot say when he may, if ever, come back around. And even if he does; there would be no guarantees he would have his full mental capacity restored.

After all that had happened, Jimmy vowed he would do all he could for Blake. To spend more time with him, to give him the love in truth he was too afraid to give in the beginning. He would be a better father, and a better friend.

When closing time came, he was on his way to Palymara’s Unihorn Institute. It was a place not only for those who are mentally unstable, but for those who are physically challenged where they can learn (and possibly return) how to adapt in society.

For Jimmy, every day he spent with Blake was physically and emotionally challenging, but it was a challenge he vowed to overcome to have his son back home with him one day.

Another Weekend in Montie

Friday night found the Montie gym filled to the rafters as the Montie Pythoners took on Brimford.

It would be a good game where Stevie would get to play the final six minutes and scoring twelve points. Six inside the paint and two three-point shots.

But from the very beginning of the game to the final second when the buzzer signaled the game over, it was never close. The cheers, screams and yells seemed to echo out onto the parking lot. Pythoners: 70. Brimford: 51.

As was tradition, the team would go to Albertini’s for pizza and then go home. But first, Stevie went to his mom and hugged her, then gave high five’ to Ed, and of course, Leon.

“When can I go and have pizza with you and the rest of the team?”

“Leon, this is just for the team, but tomorrow, if mom says it’s all right, you can go with Ellie and me to Rastabella’s for lunch. We can have pizza there.”

Leon looked up at Baker with sad, yet hopeful eyes and his lower lip puffed out.

Baker burst out laughing.

“You win, Leon. How could I say no to a look like that. You can go with Stevie tomorrow.”

Leon’s expression vanished into a gleeful smile and hugged her, then turned and looked at Stevie, smiling, and wagged his right index finger left and right.

“You drive careful, brother. You hear me?”

“I hear you, brother.”

And just like that, Stevie started walking toward the locker room but not before Ellie stopped him long enough for a hug and kiss with a quick, “I’ll see you tomorrow at noon,” and she was off.

The gym emptied quickly, and two police cars outside were directing traffic so everyone could get home safely.

And the night moved on.

At 4:30 in the morning in Buffalo, two tickets bought for a bus ride weren’t going to be used.

Both Brian Adams and Butch Sanders knew getting on the bus was no longer an option. They watched from their room as police cars were patrolling the bus station every five minutes, and two police cars were parked on the street. They found out what happened to Ralph and Mickey when they were looking at the 11 o’clock news.

“Butch, we need to get out of here and away from the bus station. We just walk south until we spot another car we can jack, or just take one in use at a red light or something. But sitting here isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“Den what you waitin’ on? Get yo’ shoes on and let’s get the fuck outta here.”

As dark as it was outside, the streetlamps lit the sidewalks and streets too brightly for either man’s taste. And it was cold. They would need warmer clothes and quickly. As they made their way around the backside of the hotel, they spotted an all-night laundromat. Brad motioned Butch to follow him and they went inside. There was only one person there and he was asleep.

Brad check all the dryers until he found two with clothes in them. One had dark clothes, of which two were woolen shirts. Both, extra-large. Which was good for Butch. Brad made do the best he could. They left the laundromat and continued moving further away from the hotel and bus station. After a few minutes of brisk walking, Butch held up his hand to halt Brad.

“Over there? See him? That’s our ride. Let’s move.”

Four cars down, a middle-aged man was unlocking his Pontiac Firebird when Brad and Butch jumped him from behind.

Grabbing the keys Butch threw them to Brad saying, “Get dat trunk open.”

Brad opened the trunk as Butch was struggling with his target, then whispered in his ear, “This ain’t gonna hurt but a second,” then he snapped the man’s neck. Butch searched him, found his wallet, and put it in his pocket and lifted the dead man and carried him to the rear of the car and dropped him in the trunk and slammed the trunk shut.

“We need to be gettin’ outta here. You know how to drive one of these things?”

Brad grinned. “Piece of cake, baby.”

Two minutes later they were on Interstate 90 that would take them south which would connect them to I-80 West.

Things were looking good. In the wallet was three-hundred dollars. He took out the money and gave half to Brad, then threw the wallet out the window.

When Montie was waking up to another crisp Saturday, where the temp’s would topo out at sixty by four, you could still smell the sweet success of fall in the air.

The leaves were still falling in their rainbow array in many yards and the resplendent colors seemed dazzling when sunlight would cross over each yard.

Inside many homes, the sound of bacon or sausage were sizzling in a frying pan giving off that aroma that would beckon you to breakfast in sheer anticipation, along with fried eggs and home-fries. Add a cup of steaming coffee, hot tea, or cocoa, and it makes the rest of the day worth tackling.

That day would find several youngsters going door-to-door with a rake and a couple of plastic bags trying to make a few dollars raking leaves. Some adults would say no preferring to do it themselves by mowing, then mulching the leaves at the same time. Others readily said yes.

Some people wouldn’t be out of bed until well after noon.

Johnathan and Dianne were taking advantage of Johnathan’s last few days before he returned to work on Monday.

Patrick and J.W. were both asleep after a long satisfying night of what each considered to be the hottest and most erotically intense sexual experience they ever had. If you were to peek in on them, you would see two softly smiling faces caught up in pleasant dreams.

Andre and his wife, Vanessa, and their daughter, Jenny, on the other hand, were busy packing to go to Buffalo to see The Muppets, live. They knew it would be an experience Jenny would never forget. After all, according to Jenny, “Miss Piggy, rocks!”

Then there was Satchell.

A man who thought his heart would never beat new life into the frame surrounding it. A man who saw his life lived only for his job and his past memories. Now, with Samantha, new memories were in the making.

Everything they did, everything they touched became something new and special, no matter how large or small the moment was. It would be placed in the “remember box,” as Samantha put it.

But fall seems to do this to many people in Montie. Almost as if it were magical. When leaves fall to the ground and begin to bunch together; inside many homes, families get closer, become more loving, and gain more understanding from each other.

Love is a peculiar invention that will sway the hardest of hearts and will render its enemies useless. In some ways, Montie is that kind of peculiar invention.

But there are two people who didn’t plan so well, but for the time being, what luck they were holding onto hadn’t yet disappeared.

The Firebird that Brad and Butch stole, ran out of gas about four miles before they reached the town of Stanhouse. Abandoning the car, they started to push off into the dense growth of underbrush and trees where they couldn’t be seen if you were driving by, or so they hoped.

Walking another mile, they spotted a run-down motel, the Addison, which sat on the outskirts of Stanhouse. Then went inside and rented a room. It was cheap. and the desk clerk didn’t ask any questions. Now they could get warm and plan their next move.

“I say we hang out a night or two, den see what happens.”

“Then what, Butch? We can’t stay here that long. We don’t have much money left, and we have to eat, too.”

“Maybe Sunday night we take out the clerk, take what cash is in da register, take his car and book.”

“We can’t be killing ever motherfucker that gets in our way, dude. I say we just knock him out, tie him up, take his wheels and go.”

“Shit, no! What if he gets loose too fast. He’d have the cops on our ass before we get ten miles, and you know damn well there’ll be roadblocks everywhere.

“We do him, then go.”

When Bobby “Butch” Anders eyes glazed over, that was always a sign he was ready to hurt someone, for good.

Brad stopped arguing with him, but he also didn’t turn his back on Butch. He had a feeling he would have to take Butch down somehow. He was a live wire Brad would have to pull the plug on.

But throughout the day there was one special moment for one little boy. A moment he hoped would multiply many times more.

Rastabella’s had an “All You Could Eat” pizza special for $9.99, and Leon was tackling all the different slices available. He was with his new brother and his girlfriend, but it was that feeling of being wanted and accepted that made it a special moment for him.

At that time, Leon was oblivious of all the events that were shaping up not far from where he was just as Stevie and Ellie were. After all, it’s just another quiet weekend in Montie. And Montie slipped into Sunday as easily as slipping into a pair of slippers.

Sunday was filled with spiritual uplifting and guidance, prayer, and that always constant reminder Reverend Johnstone leaves with his parishioners, “The entire world has a place in heaven. And when my time comes, and yours, and yours (he pointed randomly at the congregation), I will be there to welcome each of you to a far more uplifting and enriching plan of love for you, and you—for all of you.”

As with most Sunday’s, especially in the fall, houses were filled with families. Perhaps a time was set aside to read a passage of scripture, or family time playing board games, or watching a movie, or just various conversations.

Of course, there would be some surfing on the Internet. At least one person was trying to keep his eye on Freddy’s movement.

The next morning, Lee would know he would only have one last chance at Freddy. If he missed, he, along with four innocent people would be dead.