Reunion

Chapter One: A Disastorous Phone Call

         James sat in his overstuffed armchair, smoking a pipe as he skimmed over A Tale of Two Cities. He was in his study, a cozy room that reminded him of far-off places he'd never been. There were bookshelves lining the walls, a fireplace and oak door barely visible in the room, and a comfy, expensive rug on the floor.
         A knock on the door made James look up from his book. "Come in," he said.
         In walked Biscoe, James's head butler. Biscoe was a large, black man who was the only other person who lived in the house.
         "Ah, Biscoe! What news have you?" asked James cheerfully, biting down on the end of his pipe.
         "You had a phone call from a man named Carry Thorston," said Biscoe sadly.
         "Thorston? I went to high school with Gary Thorston," said James thoughtfully. "In fact, he played on our baseball team, the Enforcers. Against the other self-formed baseball team, the Deployed. He was one hell of a outfielder, that's for sure."
         Biscoe nodded. "Well, Mr. Keen, Gary passed away last night."
         James slowly removed his pipe from his mouth. "What happened, Biscoe?"
         "Car crash, evidently, sir," Biscoe whispered.
         "I assume a funeral is being held?" James replied.
         "Do you know where Leo Saratoni lives?" asked Biscoe.
         "Saratoni, yes, of course, he went to high school with us as well," said James, waving his hand about. "Is the funeral being held there?"
         "It is, sir," Biscoe answered. "It will be next Saturday."
         "Thank you, Biscoe," said James. "Do me a favor and get Mr. Lindmore up. Call Stoch too. I'll be flying to Rowan City tonight."

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         "Damn," said Dante.
         "What's up, honey?" asked Dante's wife, Andrea. "Who was on the phone."
         "Remember at my reunion, the short man with the scars?" asked Dante.
         "Gary, right?"
         "Well, he was hit by a drunk driver last night, I guess."
         Andrea rubbed her husband's chest. "Oh, babe, are you okay?"
         "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," said Dante. "It's just hard to believe. He was one of the guys on our ol' baseball team. Thurston, Keen, Saratoni, the Jones sisters, me, and a couple other guys."
         "When is the funeral?"
         "Saturday, next Saturday," said Dante. "It's in Rowan City, though."
         "Rowan City?" asked Andrea, brows furrowing. "That's interesting. No one goes to Rowan City anymore."
         "You do when you're friend is having a funeral," said Dante, laying back in bed. He kissed his wife on the nose, and then said, "Maybe we can see the rest of the guys, huh?"
         "Maybe, baby," Andrea said sleepily. "Maybe."

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         The Ordinary Family's Funeral Home was located on the corner of Constantine Avenue and Rick Road, and was also the home of Leonardo Saratoni. Leo sat on his porch, drinking a beer and flipping burgers when he saw the bright pink Mini-Cooper pull up.
         Two young, brunette girls hopped out. The first was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with her hair in a ponytail and a backpack on her back. The second was fair more tan than the other, she had a pair of mini-shorts on and a long baseball t-shirt. She over her thick-lensed glasses as though everything around her was precious.
         "Well, well, well," said Leo. "Look who showed up first. Patricia and Leanne Jones. First and second base."
         "Someone looks like they've been working out a little more," said the tan one, Patricia. She grabbed Leo's arm and squeezed. "Oh my! That is big."
         "Six years in the Marines'll do that to you, honey," Leo said.
         "Is that why you've shaved your head?" she questioned.
         "I do that because I hate buying shampoo," he replied.
         "Are we all staying here?" asked Leanne, crossing her arms.
         "If you'd like, yeah," Leo replied. "My son and I only take up two rooms, but we can bunk if everyone shows up."
         "If everyone shows up?" Leanne asked.
         Leo shrugged. "I invited the old crew. The actual funeral is Monday, but we're going to have our own party Saturday."
         You're giving them all eight days to get here?" asked Patricia.
         Leo shrugged again. "Jim lives in Los Angeles, which is a bit of a walk from here. Dante is in Detroit, Nik and Tom live together in the Big Easy. God knows where Hannah wandered off to after graduation."
         "Hannah Sionis?" asked Patricia, sticking her tongue out. "That slut?"
         "Calm down with that, girl," Leo hissed.
         "So, how did he die again?" asked Leanne.
         "Drunk driver, if you read the reports," said Leo.
         Patricia raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like a man who believes what he's told."
         "Gary and I were the only ones who stayed here after graduation, you know?" Leo said. "We ran into each other a lot. Hell, it's Michigan. Ain't no where to go here anyway. But in all the times we saw each other, one thing remained the same."
         "Do share," Leanne grunted.
         Leo shot her a daring glance. "Gary had his license suspended. He had no car. Never owned one."
         "You're point?"
         "How'd he get into a car crash without a car?" Leo asked.
         The girls were silent for a moment, when all of a sudden, a Camaro came into sight. The beast of a blue car was shiny and glossy and had to have been traveling close to ninety miles an hour. As soon as it was in front of the house, the driver slammed on the brakes. After a loud screech, it stopped, and out stepped out a man in a purple suit, his hair combed to the right.
         "Man, good thing Patty was here," said the man. "All I had to do was follow the smell of spray-tan and I found my way."
         "Nik," Patricia sneered. "Good to see you."
         "Thanks, tootz," said Nik, winking. "If I'm not much mistaken, Hannah is with Tom. They'll be here tonight, I'm sure.