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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Cultural · #1905977
Next chapters of the story of how a triker's death touched the lives of strangers.


Chapter 9.          Evan Dies

It was 3am.  Ava rolled out of bed and softly padded to the bathroom.  She noticed it was getting colder and she stopped to check the thermostat before going back to bed.  Climbing under the covers she snuggled up to Evan but he didn’t put his arm around her.  Evan wasn’t snoring so Ava called him, “Honey”?  He didn’t respond.  Ava shook him and he still didn’t respond.  She got back out of bed and rushed to flip on the light so she could see.  Turning to his side of the bed she saw his face was grey.  Beginning to cry, Ava shook him once more then gave up and rushed around the house looking for her purse so she could retrieve her cell phone and call 911. 

Ava told the 911 dispatcher that she couldn’t rouse her husband.  They told her to stay on the line but lay down the phone and perform CPR on Evan until help arrived.  She screamed that she didn’t know how to do CPR.  The 911 dispatcher told her to remain calm that an EMT unit was being dispatched.  She heard them coming down the road and ran to let them in. 

Bonnie went crazy barking at the strangers entering her home.  Ava quickly snatched her up and held her tightly telling her to hush as she led them back to the bedroom and pointed at Evan.  One of the attendants leaned over him and placed his fingers expertly on his wrist to check for a pulse.  Finding none, the EMT confirmed what Ava feared; the love of her life was gone.”

Ava told the EMT that Evan had been treated for heart arrhythmia, so they presumed that was the cause of death.  They contacted the Justice of the Peace to come out and make a ruling.  The EMT people went outside to wait for the JP and Ava stayed by Evan’s side.  Through her tears, Ava thought she saw him take a breath, and she rushed to call the EMTs back in. 

They checked him again because they felt sorry for her, but they did a careless, sloppy job.  They had already made up their minds he was dead. 

The lady EMT took Ava gently by the shoulder and led her from the room.  “I’m so sorry M’am there was no pulse.  Your husband is dead.” 

When the JP arrived, she listened to the EMTs report and ruled death by natural causes.  After the JP ruled, the EMTs asked Ava which funeral home she wanted Evan’s body transported to.  Tears ran freely down Ava’s cheeks and the lady EMT handed her a Kleenex. 

Ava knew that they had made pre-death arrangements at Battistella’s Funeral Home and Crematorium where their grandson Lyle worked.  She told them to take Evan there.  They placed him on the stretcher in his pajamas, covered him with a sheet and left.

Ava called Mr. Battistella at home as soon as they left so he’d know Evan was coming.  She asked him to have someone else besides Lyle and Marie handle it, but Mr. B regretfully told her that they were the ones working the night shift”

Mr. B called the Funeral Home and Marie left Lyle in the break room and went to answer it. 
“Lyle’s grandfather has passed away,” he told her.  The EMT are on the way with his body.  You might have to handle the delivery by yourself if Lyle can’t handle it”.

“I can handle it by myself if necessary,” she reassured him.

She went back to Lyle and he knew from the look in her eyes that the phone call brought very bad news.  Lyle sank down onto the couch in the corner of the break room and Marie sat down beside him and took his hand.  She gently broke the news of his grandfather’s passing.  She gently stroked his bent head, tears welling up in her own eyes.

The EMT pulled up at the back of the mortuary.  Lyle and Marie went out to open the door and show them were to put the body.  They helped the EMT ease Evan off the stretcher onto the metal table. 

Lye felt like he was living in a fantasy that his brain had cooked up.  He asked Marie if he could have some time alone with his Pawpaw.  She quietly withdrew. 

“Helping those who are mourning the loss of a loved one was the hardest part of this job,” Marie thought as she went into office to make a fresh pot of coffee and log in the arrival into the computer database.
Before long, Lyle came looking for her.  Marie wrapped her arms around him and just held him close for a long while.  Finally she released him, and moved away to pour them each a Styrofoam cup full of black coffee.  They sat there in silence for a while, each with their own thoughts.  Marie wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words.

“I can process the body by myself,” Marie volunteered. 

Chapter 10.          Another Prisoner

In the early morning before sunrise the metal door to the jailer’s office swung open with a clang and woke everyone up.  Abram had been sleeping in the office chair with his head resting on his arms on the desk in front of him.

“What next,” Abram thought to himself when an officer came in with another prisoner.  The man was dirty and he smelled bad.  Both Larry and Gene got up from the bunks they had been laying on when the new man was brought in. 

“There must have been a full moon last night,” the Abram commented to the arresting officer.  “Normally we don’t have a soul in here and tonight we’ve got three.”  He laughed at his own joke.
Abram opened the cell door and the officer pushed the new arrival inside.  The new man stood in the middle of the cell uncertainly.

“Hi, I’m Larry Williams,” said the elderly white haired man. 

The new man just nodded.  He’d never been in jail before, but these two guys looked normal enough.
“I’m in jail on assault charges,” Larry continued.  “I was too enthusiastic when I kept a man from stealing my trail.  His arm got broken in the process.” 

“That’s crazy,” the new prisioner said.  “You are pleading innocent, of course.  When do you go in for your hearing?”

“No telling with everyone gone for the holidays.  I’ll try and get in touch with my wife again in the morning and maybe she can find out.”

“Well that is a real shame,” the man told him.  “I was arrested as a vagrant.  They have me listed as James Conroe.  So I guess call me James until I get this straightened out.”

“Welcome to jail.  My name is Gene Autry.” the remaining jail cell occupant said.

That got a laugh.  Stress made them all a little silly.

When they quit laughing James inquired, “And what got you into this fine establishment, Gene Autry?”

“I went out for a few beers and to play a few games of pool.” Gene gazed down at the floor reflectively.  “We were shooting pool for a dollar a game. I managed to win the game.”

“That doesn’t happen to me all that often,” he continued.  “The guy refused to pay up so I jumped him, a scuffle ensued with the bouncer and the next thing I knew I was on the ground outside being handcuffed.”
The three men started talking about other things.  Larry told them he was retired.  Evan said he was too.  Gene admitted that he was unemployed living a home with his parents. 

“My dad wants me to go back to doing construction work with him," Gene said.  “I did it all during my high school days.”

“Nothing wrong with construction work,” Larry commented.  “That’s what I did for a living.  I worked for Custom Cement.  We did sidewalks, driveways, and some slabs.”

Abram’s ears pricked up.  The Chief’s sidewalk quickly came to mind.

James spoke up, “I’ve poured a lot of concrete in my time.  I remember the project along the Brazos River in Waco.  If you’ve never been there you should make an effort to walk the river walk we built.  It turned out pretty nice.  Of course, that was many years ago.”

“My favorite job was a slab we poured for a small pizza parlor,” Larry told them  “They wanted a tile floor and couldn’t afford one.  The guy I worked for told them we could give them a floor that looked like Mexican Tesoro for just a little more than a regular floor.  We poured the cement just like normal, but when it came time to use the troweling machine, he put grinding blades on instead of the regular ones.  It ground the cement down and the rock shown so pretty.  When it was completely dry we put down some sealer and it was the most beautiful floor I’ve ever seen.”

Abram thought, “People are all alike no matter where you meet them; in jail, at a bar, or in a coffee shop.  No matter what you say there is always someone in the group that has a story to top yours.”
Abram’s partner came in the check on him. 

“Hope you got some sleep because one of the other men will be coming in to relieve you and we’ll go work on the sidewalk for the Chief.”

“Maybe we should ask the men if there how to do this concrete stuff.  They all used to work construction,” Abram told his partner. 

“Is that so!  Very interesting!”

His partner looked at the prisoners speculatively before heading out the door.

Just before 6am the Chief dropped by the jail.

“I’ve come to visit our guests,” he told Abram.  “How about bringing us a pot of coffee?”

The Chief went over to the cell and ran a metal coffee cup along the bars to wake up the prisoner’s. 
He stood there chewing on a toothpick looking over the men as they sat up and looked at him.  Gene dropped his head into his hands like it was about to fall off.

Abram brought in a pot of coffee and three Styrofoam cups.  “Here’s some coffee y’all want a cup?” 
He poured some coffee in the metal cup the Chief held out, and then poured coffee for the three prisoners.  He went back to his office and poured himself a cup and rejoined the group.

“This coffee is awful,” the Chief said throwing his cup in the trash.  “It tastes like it’s been strained through someone’s dirty socks.”

Abram and the three prisoners continued to sip their cups of coffee.

“I just thought I’d let y’all know the Judge will be unavailable until after New Years.  But I’m willing to work things out with y’all so you won’t have to sit in jail for two weeks.  If you do some community service we will turn you lose.”

“What kind of community service?” Larry inquired.

“All you have to do is pour a sidewalk in front of my house.”

His proposal was met with stares and stony silence.  Even Abram was caught off guard by the offer.
Finally Gene replied, “Community Service benefits the whole community.  Pouring a sidewalk for you at your home doesn’t qualify.”

“Fine, y’all want to rot here in jail for the next two weeks instead of getting some outside exercise and some decent food; it’s okay by me.  But you would be released in time for Christmas if you cooperate.”
The three prisoners exchanged looks and each carefully considered how to word their reply, after all they did not want to antagonize the police chief in whose hands their fate rested.

The Chief frowned when no one replied.  He rolled the toothpick in his mouth back and forth a few times before continuing.

“Look, I’m giving y’all a break.  I’m in charge of the work program here, if y’all want to work off your debt.”  When no one still answered him, he began to get annoyed.  He really did want to give his wife a nice sidewalk for Christmas though so he continued, pointing his toothpick at James. 

“James here will be getting out in two day regardless and we’ll be giving him a ride to the edge of town to help him on his way.”

Next the Chief pointed to Gene.  “You’re charged with drunk and disorderly, but it is your first offense and I could talk to the owner of the 8 Ball and get the charges dismissed, if you do this project.”

Gene’s eyes narrowed and he muttered a few choice words as the Chief wiggled his eyebrows up and down and continued in a completely innocent tone.

“Larry there, however, has an assault charge against him.  I personally believe his story that he didn’t break the guy’s arm.  That the trailer ran over him.  And I do believe the guy was stealing his trailer, so if he does this project I’m sure I can get the case against him dropped too.  What do y’all say?”

The three prisoners again exchanged glances, but still no one responded.  They knew they were being railroaded.

“You know if Larry’s case goes to trial he could get some real prison time,” the Chief threatened.
James said, “I’ll be honest with y’all.  Since I’ve got nothing to lose or gain it doesn’t make me any difference if we do the sidewalk or not.  I’ll help y’all if you decide to do it.”  He sloshed the terrible coffee around in the Styrofoam cup before taking another sip. 

“The Chief did say that we’d get some decent food,” he shrugged and grinned at his cellmates.
Gene and Larry finally gave their grudging consent to do the sidewalk.

Sunday, December 21 - Back to Cold Weather

Chapter 11.          Evan’s Daughters

Christine slept badly the night after the Jingle Bell run.  Not only did her hand and knees hurt, but she ached all over.  She had intended to get up and go to the adult singles Sunday school class that morning, but instead she hit the alarm to turn it off and rolled over to go back to sleep. 

She was dozing when the phone rang at 8am.  She thought she was dreaming when she picked up the receiver and heard her Mom say that her Dad had died.  She wanted to roll over, pull the covers up over my head, and pretend everything was alright. 

“Oh God Mom!” she said when it sank in, “I’m on my way.” 

Before Christine could hang up Ava continued telling her how the EMTs had taken Evan to Battistella’s Funeral Home.  Christine knew her parents had made their funeral arrangements there shortly after Lyle went to work for them.

Christine, with her cell phone pressed to her ear, started getting ready to go to her parent’s house.  She let her Mom keep talking, saying “Uh huh” or “Okay” now and then. 

Ava tearfully told her how she’d call the EMTs and asked them to check her Dad several times during the wait for the JP, but they just kept telling her that he was dead.  She told her about calling Mr. B and asking him to have the cremation assigned to someone else and how he’d explained to her that Lyle and Marie could handle it. 

“He said that they have been given special training for just such a situation and that they were the ones on duty,” Ava continued sounding upset and unconvinced.

When Christine finished getting dressed she told her Mom that she needed to hang up and she was on her way.  Her Mom asked her to call her sister, Leigh, who lived in California and tell her. 

After Christine got off the phone with her Mom, she slowly selected her sister’s name on her cell phone and hit the call button.  Christine tried to gather her wits about her.  She didn’t want to be the one to make this phone call.  She heard the phone ringing.  She quickly checked her watch.  It said 9am which meant it would be 7am in Bakersfield, CA.  Christine grimaced.  She should have waited a little longer to call.

Christine almost wished Leigh wouldn’t answer, but she did.  She had read her caller ID on her phone that showed it was Christine calling and she was all happy and bubbly sounding as she said “Hey there.  What’s up?”

There was no easy way to deliver the news that their Dad was dead.  Christine took a deep breath and just blurted out, “Daddy died last night.”  Christine and Leigh cried together before Christine could continue and tell her what happened.

Leigh was planning on coming home for Christmas anyway, so she already had plane tickets.  She would just have to change her reservation so she could come home immediately.

Leigh felt shell shocked.  In a daze, she called the airlines and switched her reservations.  It was Sunday so she called her boss at home and let him know she wouldn’t be in to work on Monday.  They had a full case load, and her not being there would mean some of the detainees would not get their hearings before Christmas.  She hated to leave with only a moment’s notice.  Surprisingly, her boss was understanding and would pull some strings to get a continuance for her cases.

Once that chore was done, she turned to packing her bags.  She placed her suitcases on the bed and opened them to rearrange things and make room for another outfit.  She opened her closet door and stood there gazing inside.  She never felt so incapable of handling a situation in her life.  Picking out what to wear to her Dad’s Memorial service seemed an impossible job.  She finally selected a crème colored pants suit with a red turtleneck.

Memories of her Dad coaching her t-ball team floated through her mind.  He’d been so patient with the little girls who were really more interested in picking the dandelions in the outfield than catching the balls.
Other memories came of him patiently teaching her how to drive, she’d learned on his pickup with a standard transmission.  And he’d gone with her to pick out her Sportster when she’d graduated from U of H.  The down payment on the Sportster was his and Ava’s graduation present to her.  He’d been the best Dad in the whole world.

Out in California Leigh finally got her bag packed and she was in the cab on the way to the airport.  She closed her eyes and prayed that she would be able to make it through this.

The cabbie looked in his rearview mirror.  “Ma’am, are you alright?”

Leigh snapped out of her reverie and looked at the cabdriver who was watching her with concern.  “I’m sorry did you say something?” 

Then she noticed the cab was parked in front of the airport terminal.  She quickly paid the driver, giving him a good tip and climbed from the cab.  He set her bag on the sidewalk for her.

She checked her bags and picked up her boarding pass.  She tried to read while she waited for the signal to board.

Finally a flight attendant opened the door to the boarding ramp and she found her seat on the plane.  There were the usual safety instructions that she’d heard so many times she could almost recite them for the stewardess.  The plane taxied out and she felt the familiar dip in her stomach when it lifted off.  That is the last thing she remembered of the flight home.  Had she slept, or just zoned out?  She didn’t know, but her plane was landing.  She hurried to claim her baggage and find her Mom who was there to pick her up. 

“Oh, Mom.” Leigh wrapped her arms around her, burying her face in her shoulder.  Ava held her close and let out a strained breath.  Leigh pulled back and wiped at her tears with the back of her hand.  Her Mom handed her a Kleenex.

“Come on,” she said matter-of-factly, “let’s get you to Christine’s home.  She’s making us dinner.  I’m staying with her for a few days; she didn’t want me to stay at the house alone.  To tell the truth I think her house is too empty for her too now that Lyle has moved out.  I think she needs company too.”

Leigh threw her two suitcases into the back of the car and slipped into the passenger’s seat.  She expected to go home to her old room at the house, but instead she would be staying in Lyle’s old room at Christine’s house.  Lyle had moved out before Thanksgiving and gotten an apartment with Marie.
“Maybe we should get her a puppy or kitten for Christmas,” she said wickedly.

Chapter 12.          Girls Go To Helen’s Bar

Ava asked the girls to get in touch with Pastor Pete to see if he would do the prayer service for the memorial we were planning for Tuesday.  They had met Peter at rallies in the past.  He was short, stocky, with a full beard and gray hair pulled back into a pony tail under his black beret.  He was a powerful preacher.  He rode a VW trike that was painted bright green.  You couldn’t mistake it, it had Jesus carry the cross and John 3:16 painted on each side. 

The only way they knew to get in touch with Pete was at the bars where he evangelized so they went over to Helen’s bar where a lot of Dad’s biker and triker friends hung out.  It was a hole in the wall place that should have been condemned years ago.  It was down under the freeway overpass.  You had to know where to turn to get there; otherwise you’d go by on the overpass and see it but not be able to get to it.

Helen was 90 if she was a day.  She lived in an apartment above the bar.  She’d come to town about 40 years ago riding a new Harley.  Rumor was that she’d come from California and that she used to ride with the Angels.  Everybody wondered why she picked Almeada to move to.  People made up stories about her.  The rumor went that when she hit town she’d found a poker game and used the bike to call a bluff with.  Thing is, she’d actually won the pot. 

According to the myth that grew up around her, she used the winnings and the money from the sale of the bike to buy the bar.  Back when she’d bought the bar, it hadn’t been under a freeway.  The State built the freeway a few years later.  They tried to buy her out completely, but she insisted on keeping the bar and they created an access road for it.

Her bar had lots or regular customers.  As she got older she took to pointing to one of the regulars whenever she got tired and telling them that they were in charge.  That she was going upstairs to take a nap.  She spent more and more time upstairs and the regulars figured out that in the afternoons she always left when it was time for her favorite soap operas to come TV.

Just in the last few years her daughter, Vicki, came to live with her and tend the bar.  Vicki must have been 60 or so herself.  She was rough looking with a big tattoo on the side of her neck.  She had a nasty disposition if you got on her bad side.  Rumor was that she’d done time for stabbing a guy that had grabbed her while she was serving beer.  It was said that she had claimed it was an automatic reflex action, that he’d caught her off guard.  Whether that was true or not, nobody knew for sure, but the customers at the bar treated Vicki with respect. 

Pete’s green VW trike wasn’t parked outside when the girls drove up but they hoped someone inside could give them his number.

The girls walked in past the blaring vintage jukebox toward the bar.  The smell of stale beer assailed their nostrils.  It was dark inside and they more or less felt their way to the bar.  Leigh noticed right away a hand carved wooden bust setting on a glass shelf near the end of the bar.  She pointed it out to Christine.  They walked to the end of the bar and looked at the bottom and sure enough it said, “Log Carver” on the bottom.

They didn’t see anyone tending bar and were startled when Vicki introduced herself saying, “Welcome ladies.  My name is Vicki.  What can I get you to drink?”

“Nothing right now,” the girls responded in unison.

“We are Evan Wright’s daughters.  Daddy passed away last night.  Can you tell us how to contact Pastor Pete?  Mom would like him to do the prayer service at Daddy’s Memorial,” Christine continued. 
“I’m so sorry to hear about Evan!  What a shame!  Sure, let me get you Pete’s number.”  She pulled a business card from somewhere under the scared old bar and copied the number onto a napkin which she passed to Christine.

“I saw you looking at the carving your Dad gave to Helen a few years ago.  He told Helen that he carves what the wood tells him it wants to be.  Sounds pretty strange to me.  I guess that piece of Black Walnut wanted to be Helen.  Or what you Dad imagined she would have looked like when she was about thirty-five,” she laughed pleasantly.

“You know the brothers and sisters like to help in time of trouble,” she said sympathetically.  “How about if we hold a Benefit Run in your Dad’s honor.  We will donate the proceeds to your Mom to help pay funeral expenses.”

Christine and Leigh both agreed that their Dad would like that, so Vicki started making plans for the benefit run.  She didn’t waste any time making up a flyer to post at the entrance to the bar. 
Christine took out her cell and called Pete.  He quietly agreed to do the service after he told her he was sorry to hear of our loss.  Christine told him that Vicki was working on holding a benefit run.  He suggested the Ride with Jesus  group co-sponsor the run.  He said he’d take charge of informing the Ride with Jesus  membership.  He also asked Vicki to make up five additional flyers and said he’d drop by the bar and pick them up.  He would post them at the Harley dealership and at a couple of other bars where he evangelized on a regular basis.

When the girls turned to leave a short balding man wearing bifocals came up and introduced himself to them.

“Hello, I’m Harry.  I’m the Commander of the Almeada VFW Post.  I knew your Dad, Evan.  He is...I mean was… a life time VFW member.  I overheard you tell Vicki that he has died.  We’d be honored to hold Evan’s Memorial service at the Post.  We are proud to do for our own.”

“We were going to have it at my house here in town,” Christine told him.  “I live near a park and there would be ample parking.”

“Well the VFW has a large area where we can set up tables and chairs, people could see and visit each other more easily if they were all in the same room instead of wandering from living room to dining room etc like they do at a person’s home.  Besides it would spare you the mess of cleanup.”
“But we wanted to play music and show a slide show,” Leigh interrupted him.

“We have a sound system you can play your own music on.  I’ll show you how to set it up.  If you have a lap top that is all you need to play a slide show.  We can sit the laptop up for viewing.”

“There is a platform stage at one end and we have a podium where people can get up and offer eulogies.

They discussed it for a while longer before Christine called Ava to tell her about the offer. 
“What do you think, Mom?” Christine asked.

They told her what Harry had said, and Ava agreed to let the VFW host it.  It would save them a lot of after memorial cleanup at the house.  Harry agreed on having it on Tuesday afternoon and he started letting people at the VFW know.  The first person Ava called was Mr. B since he would be posting the obit in the paper on Monday.

Ava called her supervisor at the insurance company where she worked to let them know about Evan’s death.  They said they would handle her time card and she was to let them know as soon as funeral services were arranged.  Ava told them that Evan was at Battistella’s Mortuary and they would put the information in the Monday obituary column of the newspaper.

Christine and Leigh split up the phone duties.  Christine contacted family members, coffee shop buddies and former co-workers from the City.  Leigh took her Dad’s cell and contacted all the people that were on it.  Then she did the trike club and the Volksmarching club.  Harry had said he’d let all the VFW members know.”

Chapter 13.          Ava’s First Night at Christine’s House

Ava and the girls stayed up late talking about their options.  It was too soon to make any long term decisions.  Leigh offered to help with the paperwork that would be involved.  Filing the will for probate, etc.  They had plenty to talk about.

When they finally called it a night, Ava showered and then propped up the pillows on the bed so that she could read.  She hoped reading would make her sleepy.

Staying at Christine’s wasn’t helping.  She was used to their soft bed at home, the mattress in Christine’s spare bedroom felt hard.  Ava hadn’t slept alone in over 40 years, she cuddled a pillow and tried to pretend Evan was still there, but he was gone.

She finally dozed off and came awake a short time later with a scream echoing through her head.  She sat quietly in bed breathing deeply to slow her racing heartbeat.  All was quiet in the house, so she hadn’t woke up either of the girls.  She tossed aside the tangled covers of her bed and slipped into her robe and slippers. She moved over to the small chair by the window and sat down.  There was a full moon and she could see clouds scurrying across it.  The houses in Christine’s neighborhood wore Christmas decorations.  Some people must leave their lights on all night, mused Ava.  She and Evan always turned their decorations off before heading to bed.

All Ava wanted was Evan here with her, holding her close, and whispering words of endearment.  Needing a distraction she opened her laptop and starting creating a slide presentation of pictures to play at the memorial service.  For several hours she was able to push the pain of losing him from her mind.

The presentation she created was a collection of pictures from when Evan was a baby with his mom and dad, family pictures him growing up, Navy pictures, some of their wedding pictures, and pictures with the girls as babies, their activities growing up, and some from when Lyle was small.  It was a great slideshow that ended with the family photo from Thanksgiving.


© Copyright 2012 Eveline (walksfar at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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