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OC,SH PROGRAM ALERT:
As noted last week HERE, I originally created the “Sunday Story” theme to exclusively house my Route 66-based story. But, with Chapter 72 “in the books”, my creativity started flowing for a possible sequel-continuation of my murder mystery story, “Don’t Forget Schuster” HERE. So, this theme is now home to 2 stories: Route 66-based (via this category HERE) & “Don’t Forget Schuster” (via this category HERE). & now, I present to you the 1st part of the mystery sequel-continuation…..
PRELUDE
Ever since I completed my murder mystery, I’ve been thinking how the characters’ lives might continue. I’ve mentioned to a few people it’s almost as if the characters are real & alive. So, with some further inspiration from Don Williams’ “Old Coyote Town” (available HERE) & James Taylor’s “Our Town” (from CARS & Route 66, available HERE), my mind started formulating what might transpire next, & I finally had time to start writing again. Below is the 1st part of several to develop.
Just over a week later, ~1p in the afternoon, Vern found himself loading his 2005 Mercury Grand Marquis for a drive to Tennessee. The route was all carefully planned, with certain “must stops” chosen with wiggle room to alter the schedule on his own whim. The only thing left to decide, really, was when his departure would be.
Just after lunch (or perhaps, a late breakfast since he, once again, was up until ~5a & woke up ~11a), Vern got the urge to start packing. He wasn’t sure if that meant he’d be leaving yet that afternoon, or 1st thing the next morning. It didn’t really matter, of course, but he pulled his Mercury out of the out-garage & parked it in front of the 1-car attached garage with the trunk backed up to & slightly inside the garage door frame. He’d just loaded a suitcase into the cavern-like, seemingly bottomless trunk, when he heard tires coming down his driveway. He lowered the trunk lid & peered out towards the driveway, but only saw a nondescript sedan coming towards him. He had a hunch who it was, but was not sure why. So, he closed the trunk lid & exited the 1-car attached garage via the service door to his right. He got to the sedan just as it was coming to a stop in his driveway.
“Well, Ricky,” Vern exclaimed, “what on earth are you doing way out here?”
“You overpaid for your gas earlier today,” Ricky stated matter-of-factly, getting out of his car.
“I did?” Vern was pretty darn sure he hadn’t.
“Yep, you did.”
“Well, now, let me check my book, Ricky.”
“No, no need to do that,” Ricky said with hesitant conviction.
“OK,” Vern said looking at him. “How much did I overpay you by?”
“Hold out your hand, there,” Ricky said.
Vern did as instructed, & Ricky plopped 2 quarters & 2 pennies into Vern’s outstretched hand.
With an even more puzzled look on his face, Vern said: “Well, now, Ricky, I know you didn’t come out here just to hand me 52 cents! What’s going on?”
“Well,” Ricky hesitated. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“OK, what?”
“Is this a good time?” Ricky was clearly stalling.
“It is for me, but I know you’ll need to get back to the station soon.”
“Oh, oh, no,” Ricky said. “Tyler is watching it for me right now.”
“Good kid, that Tyler,” Vern nodded. “So, what do you want to ask me?”
“Well,” Ricky clearly wasn’t comfortable. “How do you live with the guilt?”
Vern closed his eyes for a moment & sighed. He knew exactly what Ricky meant.
“Why don’t you go over into that shade over there,” Vern started, pointing towards a tree at the corner of the house next to the driveway in front of where his Mercury was now parked. “It just so happens I have a couple of chairs just inside the garage. I got them out this morning, but didn’t know what I’d be using them for. Now I do!”
Vern retrieved the 2 chairs & brought them to the shady area. He unfolded both, giving 1 to Ricky.
“Now,” Vern started, sitting in the chair he’d unfolded for himself, “you asked me about living with the guilt. Simply put, Ricky, none of us had all of the information we needed to help her. None of us.”
“But,” Ricky slightly protested.
“No no,” Vern said. “No buts. Hear me out.”
Ricky, slightly relaxing, acknowledged Vern’s request by sitting back in the chair & looking a bit more at ease than the entire time he’d been on Vern’s property.
“My mind has replayed that night at your gas station so many times,” Vern began. “Tracy was giving me oh so many clues that something wasn’t right. The main clue, of course, was the reference to her boyfriend’s car being a boxier version of mine. I knew she didn’t have a boyfriend, & I knew about McMillan’s old Ford CV, but neither of those facts clicked for me that night. Why? Simple, really. I was tired from my trip to Cheyenne & wasn’t thinking straight. PLUS, I had no way of knowing she was actually into cars. Heck, Ricky, I really didn’t think she knew what she was talking about. I didn’t know about her wanting to buy a classic car until her Dad told me a couple days after the celebration of her life. IF I had known all of that that night, I wonder how different the outcome would’ve been.”
“So, how do you stop those guilty feelings?” Ricky asked unnerved. “I mean, I feel so horrible she was reaching out to me, you, Charlene … & none of us actually helped her.”
“Oh, but Ricky, that’s where you’re wrong,” Vern replied. “We DID help her. No, we didn’t save her life, but in those last few days of what had to have been terror for her, we were there. We didn’t turn our backs & not talk to her.”
Vern paused, then continued: “As for stopping those guilty feelings, boy Ricky, I don’t know. I’ve been wrestling with that myself … a lot. But, what I find comfort in is that she trusted me … as well as you & Charlene … enough to actually TRY to get our help. I don’t see that happening in a larger town. She felt safe enough with us & knew each of us well enough to attempt to leverage our interests & strengths to help her out. Unfortunately, none of us had the correct information to be able to tap into those characteristics to actually help save her life.”
“But that’s what makes me so … sad,” Ricky interjected.
“What?” Vern asked.
“Well, we’re in a small town that supposedly knows everything about everybody … & we failed 1 of our own.”
Vern nodded: “I see what you mean, Ricky, I do. But, that’s where you have to focus on the fact that she felt comfortable enough with each of us to try to get our help. I know that sounds hollow, & maybe even a little conceited or heartless, but it’s the truth.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Ricky conceded.
“Think of it this way, too,” Vern said. “Had 1 of us helped her … there may’ve been more deaths. You just never know.”