Carson City

1- Thaddeus



Thaddeus had been watching the old man for three days now. He had established that everyday at about one o'clock, the old man came outside and sat in the glide swing on the small patio, in front of his trailer, to smoke his pipe. He figured the old man had just eaten lunch and needed his after meal smoke. Thaddeus knew from living almost his entire life with his grandparents that you could just about set your watch to old people's daily routines.



They woke up at the same time everyday, ate their oatmeal, then sat around drinking their coffee and reading the paper. Lunch and dinner arrived at the same time daily, and they never missed the People's Court or Wheel of Fortune. Most of the evening they sat and dozed in there favorite chair, waking up just in time for the ten o'clock news, before taking that slow painful shuffle off to bed, just to wake up the next day and do it all again.



Thaddeus watched as the old man tapped out his pipe into an old Folger's can. He knew he would soon make his way off of the swing and walk over and turn the door knob on his trailer, making sure it was locked. Once he was sure his castle was secure he would pull up his pants and make his way over to the gigantic green Impala and get inside. Thaddeus had followed the old man the last two days as he drove the old Chevy out of the trailer court hanging a left onto Edwardsville Road. He drove North approximately three quarters of a mile, before turning right into the parking lot of the V.F.W.. Thaddeus had watched both days, from the parking lot of the milk store next door, as the old man got out of his car and limped into the V. The first day he had been inside for 44 minutes, the second day 46 minutes. You could just about set your watch to old people.



Today when the old man got in his car, Thaddeus was ready. He knew this was his last chance. Tomorrow at this time he would be in the Madison County Jail, and who knew what could happen in the six months before he got out? The old man could die, all his belongings scavenged by his family, like his grandparents things were, when Grandma Lilly died last year. His aunts and uncles had descended upon his grandparents home, still in there funeral clothes, cardboard boxes in hand, like they were on some kind of shopping spree. His Aunt Patty, had told him he needed to get all his shit together and get out, because they planned to sell the house a.s.a.p.. Thaddeus had calmly set back and let them take whatever they wanted, knowing he already had the things that were of value to him. The pictures of his mom, his Grandpa's watch and war medals,his mom's wedding ring, the sketch book with his Grandma's drawings of flowers, and most importantly the deed to the house, which like all the utilities, had been in his name ever since his Grandpa had died.



As soon as the brake lights on the old Impala lit up, at the exit to the trailer court, Thaddeus took a deep breath, just like the counselor at rehab had taught him. The counselor, Mike had stressed to him, over and over, that if he would breathe correctly, deep down into his lungs, it would help with his anxiety. Thaddeus let the breath out and lit up a cigarette. When the old man finally made the left turn, he climbed out the side door of the van. He had borrowed the van from Winnie's Aunt Suzanne's boyfriend Gary, and hated the fact, that he was using it for what was essentially a crime. He shut the door and took a look around the trailer court. It was almost perfectly still, he took a last long drag off the cigarette, dropped it to the ground, and smashed it with his foot. He exhaled the smoke, took another deep breath and walked across the street.



He knew these old trailers were almost unbelievably easy to break into. The door locks were actually dead bolts, but they were dead bolts you didn't really need a key to open. He took a small screwdriver from his pocket and stuck it in the keyhole, turned it left, and like butter, he heard the bolt slide back into the door. He turned the knob and entered the trailer. The place was a lot neater than Thaddeus had expected, though it reeked of bacon and stale beer. The living room was sparsely furnished, an old love seat against the far wall, with a coffee table in front of it. The right hand side of the room had a recliner, and a small end table, upon which set an old looking brass lamp. On the left hand side of the room, there was a 19 inch TV on a small stand, and on the front wall of the trailer there were two plant stands, one with a Peace Lily, the other with a Wandering Jew. Thaddeus could identify most house plants immediately, thanks to his grandma. He perused the old man's reading material spread out across the coffee table, a couple of copies of the Alton Telegraph, a stack of V.F.W. magazines, and about ten paperback Westerns, all written by Louis L'Amour.



He moved on to the kitchen, where he noticed a black cast iron skillet on the stove. The cast iron skillet Grandma Lilly used was one thing he regretted not keeping after she had died. Eggs just didn't taste as good cooked in the new Teflon coated skillet he had bought, although he had to admit it was easier to clean. He saw a deck of cards spread out across the table, the old man had been playing Solitaire and apparently had won. Thaddeus thought to himself, the old bastard had probably cheated, as he walked out of the kitchen into the little hallway that led back to the old man's bedroom. He knew what he was looking for had to be in the bedroom.



The bedroom was almost all bed, a queen size, with a sliding door closet on the far wall and an old pine dresser on the front wall. There was about 10 to 12 inches of walking room on both sides of the bed. Thaddeus went straight to the dresser, upon which set another huge stack of paperbacks, again all Louis L'Amour, Jesus Christ how many books did that guy write he thought, as he began opening drawers. The drawers held nothing of interest to him. He rolled over the bed, and searched the closet,nothing in there either. He was starting to get panicky, thinking he wouldn't have enough time to find what he was looking for, and he had made a promise to his Grandpa, who had never once broken a promise to him.



He dropped to the floor, between the bed and the closet, in the beginning stages of a panic attack. He turned and looked under the bed, with the image of his Grandpa Walt crying, his hand shaking almost uncontrollably, as he tried to bring a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon to his lips.He saw it, an old King Edward cigar box with a giant rubber band around it, just like his Grandpa had described it. He slid the cigar box and the bigger cedar box it was sitting on out from under the bed. He slid the rubber band off the cigar box, he opened it and felt a sense of calm and ease he had rarely known in his twenty years.



He knew he would file this moment along with the best memories of his life. The first time he kissed Winnie. Grandma Lilly telling him stories about the mom he had never known. Grandpa Walt taking him fishing out on Piasa Creek. Walking through the woods with both grandparents, mushroom hunting, Grandma pointing out all the birds they seen along the way, Grandpa telling him the names of all the trees. The time they had taken him to his first St. Louis Cardnail game, for his birthday, and his favorite player Ted Simmons hit a home run. He sat a moment longer enjoying the rush of endorphins and pleasant memories, then put the rubber band back on the cigar box and set it up on the bed. He then opened the cedar box. It contained the old man's war medals which included a Purple Heart, and an Army Congressional Medal of Honor among others Thaddeus hesitated just a moment and then grabbed the Medal of Honor from out of the box. He hung it's blue neckband through the fingers on his left hand and traced the thirteen stars directly above the medal with the fingers of his right hand. Why would the old bastard keep this in a box under his bed?, he thought. He closed the lid on the cedar box and slid it back under the bed, stood up and shoved the medal down his pants. He grabbed the cigar box and made his way out of the trailer. He was feeling anxious again, taking the medal was actually stealing, but he would be damned if a son-of-a-bitch like Harold Scates deserved a Medal of Honor.



Coming soon Part 2- Winnie.