Book Three: Part 7 - Varied Evil - Chapter 4

Monday – April 2nd

Baker’s Office – 9:12 a.m.

What with bring caught up on all the planned events via a memo from Satchell, her daily meeting out of the way, and a lukewarm cup of coffee sitting on her desk, the first thing she realized she missed was Ed, standing in front of her desk with two steaming cups of coffee, and his smile.

She smiled, though it pained her at the same time.

But it was a good memory. The world needs more good memories.

Then there is Stevie, back in school after spring break. More smiles came when she thought back to yesterday’s cookout, and how he mastered the cooking, as well as serving the food. She managed to smile even more when she had seen how he and Ellie were getting along.

Tonight, was going to be a surprise for Stevie. Ed’s words dangled in her head. “Call it a belated birthday gift, since no one went to the Super Bowl.”

She remembered saying, “There will be other Super Bowls. No biggie, but I only have one Stevie, and one you, and I want you both around for a long time. So when is Stan going to deliver?”

“Some time after two. I should be back from the clinic by then. We shouldn’t have a problem surprising him.”

Her two strong men. With her in the middle, they became that solid rock no one could ever break apart.

Not even Freddy.

Though April Fool’s Day was yesterday, in Baker’s mind, this was no joke. The rock would remain firm long after hell froze over.

West Park Sports & Rehab Clinic – 11:20 a.m.

Ed had just finished a sixty-minute therapy session with Mrs. Peterson, and like all the other times he got started, back in the middle of February, there just didn’t seem to be any progress.

It wasn’t like he was expecting full use and strength of his arm overnight, but there wasn’t even a tenth of an inch worth in progress. He couldn’t raise his arm more than five inches, and he still had no ability to hold anything in his hand.

Basically, like buying jewelry as an accessory to highlight what you wear; his left arm was just there, pretending to be part of a complete body.

It just wasn’t working for Ed.

“Another day down, Mrs. Peterson.”

She could hear the dejected tone in his voice.

“Mr. Manning, an injury like yours takes time to rehabilitate. To be quite honest, possibly as long as five years. I have noticed neural systems in your arm are responding better than they were in the beginning, and that’s a plus.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure I want to wait five years. I think back to Stevie, and the progress he made in such a short time, and I wonder if I will ever get as lucky as him, or as blessed.”

Mrs. Peterson smiled.

“Stevie certainly wasn’t the norm. But, Mr. Manning, your genes, and Stevie’s are separate issues. Over twenty years separate the both of you, and that means healing time is different for one thing. For another, Stevie had quite a bit of muscle tissue to work with. When they reattached your arm; a large mass of tissue had to be removed in order to have your arm work as it is now. Freddy nearly destroyed that entirely when he sliced into the arteries, and the large muscle next to your shoulder socket. To be perfectly frank, I am surprised, but pleased, at the progress you have made.”

Ed gave a half-grin.

“I guess you’re right. Some progress is better than none. But I keep thinking that if I could have what Stevie has, that would make a world of difference; wouldn’t it?”

“Very possible. In that regard though, you would have to speak with Dr. Lambert. That’s her field of expertise. Mine, is in this room.”

“Is Dr. Lambert in?”

“She isn’t scheduled to be back until Thursday. Excuse me for a moment.”

Mrs. Peterson walked behind a desk next to a twenty-something girl working as the receptionist. Mrs. Peterson picked up a book, flipped a few pages, put it down, looked at the girl and said something Ed couldn’t hear; then she came back to the table where they sat talking.

“Mr. Manning, Dr. Lambert has a one, and a two-thirty open this Thursday, if you would like to speak with her.”

“Great. I’ll take the one.”

She looked up and over her shoulder, raised her hand, and with only the index finger of her left hand raised, Ed could see the receptionist nod her head.

“You’re in, Mr. Manning. See you Friday for our next session.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Montie High School – 3:05 p.m.

She honked the horn. Stevie walked over to the Hummer, hand in hand with Ellie. Seeing them approach, she hit the down button on her console remote to lower the passenger window.

“Hi, Mrs. Manning.”

“Hello, Ellie. How are you?”

“Great. It just feels weird being back to school after having two weeks off.”

“At least you are back, and that’s what counts,” said Stevie, with his full, award-winning smile.

“Did you and your parents have a good time at Disneyworld?”

“It was the best. But, it would have been better if Stevie had been with me; I mean, us.”

“Maybe next time,” Baker said with a slow smile and a wink at Stevie. “One never knows what will happen.”

Another horn honked. It was Ellie’s mom, Joline.

“Oops, gotta run.” She reached up and kissed Stevie and he pressed into her and gave her a fast, but fiery kiss.

“Call me tonight, Stevie.”

As Stevie was opening the door to get in the Hummer, he yelled, “I will. Ellie. Me, too!”

Baker shook her head, saying, “Do you two ever think you will say, I love you, and be done with it?”

“Mom, you worry too much. But, yeah, we will, one day.”

As Baker pulled away from the curb, Stevie said, “It’s your turn to cook, you know. I can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with this time.”

“I know it is, but I decided to opt-out for once and go for a home delivery.”

“Okay, mom. What’s going on? Usually when we do this, it’s just for the weekends.”

“Just thought it would be a nice change of pace for the start of the week. Besides, I ordered from Pablo’s Retreat.”

“Cool. I love their food. What time are we going to eat?”

“I was thinking around five-thirty. And before you ask, yes, I’ll order enough for four. I called Joline earlier and made arrangements to bring Ellie over to the house tonight. I told her I would bring her home by eight-thirty. Plus, I ordered the enchilada pizza.”

“Double cool! Mom, Have I ever said you are the best mom on the whole planet?”

6637 Dusty Lane – 3:15 p.m.

Patrick Davenport popped open a cold beer, ran it across his heated forehead, took three deep swallows, emptying half the can of Schlitz beer. He needed that after finally unpacking and arranging the last of the items delivered two days ago by a moving company.

Between his furniture from Delaware, his personal items, and the few new things he purchased in Montie; his new house was starting to look like a home.

He decided that tomorrow, he would drop by the clinic, and introduce himself to the girl who was currently in charge; Terrie Norstrum. He would have her give him the guided tour and introduce the employees to him.

As to the rest of his day, he sat on the front steps of his porch and drank his beer, soaking in the sights and sounds of the neighborhood.

Just before he finished his first beer, his eyes lifted as he looked to an almost cloudless blue sky.

“Daniel, this one is for me. The next one is for you.”

The Baker-Manning Home – 4:35 p.m.

111 Homestead Lane

Ed had been telling Baker and Stevie how his therapy session went, and how he felt about the repeated exercises, that at least to Ed, weren’t doing him any good.

“It isn’t going to be easy, Ed. It’s not as simple as going to sleep and waking up the next day, and bingo; your arm is perfect. Remember, the doctor’s told us you wouldn’t have but about sixty percent use of your arm to begin with.”

“I know this. I also know I’m not Stevie, where I can simply change my habits, or way of life, or whatever you want to call it; but there might be a way. I have an appointment Thursday afternoon with Dr. Lambert. I’m going to talk with her about getting a bionic arm similar to Stevie’s leg.”

“But,” said Stevie, “that would mean having your arm removed. I mean, isn’t that risky? I didn’t have a choice when I lost my leg, but you have a choice with your arm.” Stevie paused a moment, lifted his eyes to Ed, and his mom.

“Guess I just don’t want to lose you, or worse; you regret your decision.”

“Good point, bub.” Turning away from Stevie, she faced Ed.

“If your decision is final, Ed; just don’t go into this blind without knowing any side-effects. Get as much information as you can.”

“Can do. Will do.”

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” said Stevie.

As he went to the door, Baker said, “Ed, whatever you decide, I’m with you all the way. I hope you know this.”

“I know, but it’s still the best news I could ever ask for.”

“Mom! It’s Pablo’s. They want forty-five dollars.”

Baker stood up and walked to the door, and gave the delivery girl, for a change, sixty dollars, and handed half the food over to Stevie, and the rest to Ed, who was standing behind her.

“Hon. Keep the change, and thanks.”

The girl’s eyes went wide. She had received tips before, but never one this big. As she walked away to make more deliveries, she hoped she got to deliver to these people again.

Baker looked at both of her strong men, and said, “Just don’t stand there. I didn’t buy all this food just to smell it! Let’s get it into the kitchen.

“And Stevie, keep an eye on Ellie pulling up soon.”

Stevie reached over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Mom, you’re the best.”

Two slices hadn’t been eaten, when the doorbell rang again. Stevie went to the door again and opened it, and there stood, Ellie. They embraced each other, giving each other a soft kiss, and then Stevie held her hand as he led her into the kitchen.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Manning.”

Ed’s mouth was full, so he just waved and nodded his head. Baker smiled, and said, “Please, call me Jan, or Baker, and him, Ed. We’re kind of impersonal here. But, if you two get married one day down the road; then you can call me, mom.”

“Mom!”

“What? Stevie, people do get married, you know. Happens all the time. I’m not saying you two will, but if you ever do ….”

“That’s okay, Mrs., aah—Baker. I understand.”

Ellie winked and smiled at Baker,

“My mom and dad met in the ninth grade, dated straight through into college, and they got married’ so I know what you’re talking about.”

“Enough about this invisible wedding. Food’s getting cold. Dig in.” Ed’s masterful voice managed to say with his mouth half-filled with a burrito.

And dig in they did.

Somewhere In Kentucky

Two good old boys, not so old (25 and 31), were riding north, drinking beer, telling dirty jokes, listening to country music, trying to sing along. That last part wasn’t working out for them.

Fred Creasy and Bertram Ballmate, were both born and raised in Kentucky. They just up and made their minds up one day to drive north and have a little fun. They met while in prison and became fast friends.

“Screw all that ya can’t associate with another convict crap. Hell, Bert, ya ain’t no damn convict, yer muh friend.”

Like the Beverly Hillbillies, they loaded up Fred’s truck with all the stuff they owned and moved; but not to California.

It was Bert’s idea to head north and have some fun.

“Be like it was down home. A pot shot here, pot shot there. Drop one where it stands. It’ll be fun. And we’ll be doin’ community service for people. Fair ‘nuff trade of, I ’spect. ’Sides, we need a break from Kintuck.”

Two Winchester 30-30’s laid in the boot behind their seats along with over a thousand rounds of ammunition. Underneath each of their seats, were two western-style holsters, each holding a Colt .45.

They were loaded for bear, but bears wasn’t their targets.

Yep, just two good old boys wanting a little fun.

Bert looked at Fred.

“Can’t wait ‘till we can get started. Ya know, there ain’t no harm in a little target practicin’ while we roll up the road.”

“Yer right.” Fred looked at the gas gage.

“I got less than a quarter-tank, so next exit, we get gas, and a meal, then we can do a bit of practicin’ at the same time.”

“Works fer me.”