by Ian Bull
Sam and Kath don’t see him staring because they’re both too overwhelmed with giggling joy to focus on anything else but each other. Sam finally looks up.
“We’ll take them,” Sam says.
Sam and Kath each pull out their money and stack fifty-dollar bills until they reach three hundred dollars. They push the pile towards him and pocket the rest.
“Know a good place to get married?” Sam asks.
“The Chapel of the Bells is good. Go to the end of this block, make a right, and then go two more blocks. You can’t miss it,” Frank says.
Sam and Kath pick up their rings, but Frank stops them. “You should take his ring, and he should take yours,” he says to Kath. “Remember, you’re putting rings on each other’s fingers.”
“Oh, that’s right!” Kath says, and she and Sam laugh and pocket each other’s rings.
“Thanks!” Sam says, and he and Kath limp out.
Frank notices the spots of blood coming through the back of the man’s shirt. He dashes to the back office and finds the front page of the Reno Gazette-Journal. The headline reads –
Massive Manhunt Underway. Underneath the headline is a photo of Sam and Kath.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
T he Chapel of the Bells is a white brick single-family home with a church spire, blue trim awnings, stained glass windows, and a neon sign that is twice as high as the house. In winter, this chapel is covered in snow, and if you squint real hard, it looks like it might fit in New England.
Sam and Kath stand by the front desk in the tiny entranceway. Todd, the minister, stands behind the cash register as his wife Becky comes around the counter to show Sam and Kath the big wedding book with photos.
“Is it too early to get married?” Sam asks.
“It’s never too early. The chapel is open 24/7,” Todd says.
“Would you like the Royal Rose or the Starlight Romance Wedding?” Becky asks.
“What’s the difference?” Sam asks.
“Royal Rose comes with bouquets of roses and wedding photographs in our Chapel of the Bells. Starlight romance comes with an organ processional and a special wooden plaque carved with your names and the poem, Ode to Love. I wrote it,” Becky says.
"It's a real tear-jerker," Todd says. "Gets me every time."
“We’ll take both,” Sam says.
“That will be five hundred and ninety-eight dollars,” Todd the minister says.
Sam and Kath hand over the rest of their money – six hundred dollars – and they each get a dollar back. Sam and Kath each look at their dollar and laugh. “We each have a dollar to our name,” Kath says.
“But you are rich in love. God bless you both. Let’s get started,” Todd says.
Outside, a line of Reno police cars and Nevada Highway Patrol cars zoom up to the entrance and surround the chapel. Stone and Weinstein jump out of the lead car.
The chapel is a long room decorated with white chandeliers and long white curtains framing the stained-glass windows. Todd stands at the end of the chapel on a small wooden riser that acts as the altar. Sam stands next to him in a borrowed jacket and tie, waiting for his bride to appear. He’s also wearing a sling that Becky made for him out of a ripped-up pillow case. Now he can rest his right hand, so its weight doesn’t pull down on his broken shoulder.
Becky plays Here Comes the Bride, nice and slow on the stand-up Hammond organ at the front of the chapel. On cue, Kath turns the corner, dressed in a borrowed white wedding gown with huge puffy shoulders and lots of taffeta spreading out from under her dress. She walks with slow deliberation down the aisle, carrying her bouquet of red roses. She looks beautiful.
Sam grins. Todd slaps Sam on the shoulder, and Sam’s smile turns to a wince of pain.
“Sorry, brother,” Todd says.
Kath reaches the altar, and Sam puts out his good left hand and helps her as she steps up onto the altar.
“We are gathered here today to join these two people in holy matrimony,” Todd says.
The doors burst open and a dozen police rush in with assault rifles drawn. They rush down either side of the chapel and aim at the altar. Stone and Hal and Hiram Valosek rush in last.
“I’ll pay the taxes!” Todd yells.
“You’re under arrest! Everyone on the floor, now!” Stone yells.
Becky stands up from her organ and points at Stone. “How dare you! You are in a house of God and these two people have come here to be joined as man and wife in his holy eyes!”
Sam and Kath face each other and smile. The two lines of police lower their rifles.
“I say we shoot them!” Hiram screams from the back, and all rifles go back up again.
“Shut up Hiram! Or I will shoot you myself!” Stone screams, aiming his own gun at Hiram. The Magic Massage sales director retreats to the corner with his hands up.
Sam looks back at the crowd of law enforcement officers and spots Hal in back next to Detective Stone. "Can we finish this? Please, Hal? You said you wanted to see me settle down. This is me trying to repent."
Hal sighs, and looks at Stone. “What do you say?”
“What the hell. We’ve caught them,” Stone says. “It can’t hurt.”
Becky rips into a Bach organ solo. A terrified Todd drops his Bible as the music rips through the chapel.
“Hurry it up!” Stone says.
Todd picks his Bible up off the ground, opens it and starts reading. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…”
“We better do the shorter version, Pastor,” Sam whispers.
Todd leafs through his Bible. Drops of sweat land on the open pages, making it hard for him to turn them. He finds his spot again. “Who gives this woman?” he shouts at the crowd of officers. The two lines of cops all look at each other.
“Hey! Someone give us a hand here!” Kath yells at the room.
“All right! I will! I give this woman!” Stone yells from the back of the chapel.
Todd smiles as his confidence returns. “See, everybody? This can be easy if we all work together,” he says to the room. He turns to Kath. “Now, do you –
“Katerina Georgette Battaglia,”
Todd picks it back up. “Katerina Georgette Battaglia, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?”
“I most certainly do,” Kath says, staring with adoring eyes at Sam.
“And do you –
“Samuel Carlos Webb,” Sam says.
Todd keeps going. “Samuel Carlos Webb, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
“Till the end of time. I do.”
“If anyone objects to these two people being joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Todd says to the assembled crowd of officers with weapons drawn.
Hiram steps forward, but Stone pushes him back into his corner.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Todd says. He slams his Bible shut and leaves the altar fast, just as Becky blasts out Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. Sam and Kath both turn and step off the altar into police custody.
Sam and Kath march out into the parking lot, led by five police officers with rifles in front and followed by five officers with rifles in back. Hal and Stone take up the rear. Becky runs up and forces a piece of paper into Hal’s hand.
“Quick! Sign this, we need a witness!” she says, and Hal signs it fast and hands it back.
Becky dashes out to the front counter, finds her State of Nevada stamp, slams it on the document and then dashes out the front door and into the parking lot. She ignores the rifles and sticks her arm through the circle of officers surrounding the newlyweds and hands Kath the papers. Kath blows her a kiss.
A crowd of onlookers gathers just outside the chapel on the street, past the police line. They cheer when they see Sam and Kath.
B
ecky dashes over to the cheering crowd and hands people bags of rice, which they toss in big handfuls, until rice is raining down everywhere.
“Toss the bouquet!” someone yells, and Kath heaves it over her shoulder and it lands in Hiram’s hands. He’s surprised that he caught it, and then embarrassed. Hal nudges him as his face turns red.
Kath and Sam wave to the crowd, then holds hands so Stone can handcuff their wrists together. He then guides their heads so they don’t bump their skulls as they get into the backseat of the squad car. Becky runs up and waves at them through the window.
“Enjoy your honeymoon!” Beck yells as the wedding party speeds away, with lights flashing. Someone has spray painted Just Married on the very last car.
In the backseat of the police cruiser, Sam and Kath cuddle up next to each other. Stone sits in the front passenger seat but twists himself around to face them.
“You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, you will be appointed one by the court. Do you understand these rights guaranteed to you by the Constitution?”
Sam and Kath look at each and then at him. “We do,” they both say, then reach into their pockets and pull out their rings – and slide them on each other’s fingers.
They gaze with deep love into each other’s eyes, all lying gone. They smile and kiss, finally free.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
S an Quentin has not changed much in the months since Sam was released. It’s still yellow and brown outside and lime green and white inside, with rusting iron bars and the smell of sewage mixed with damp salt water.
Sam, dressed again in blue denim, marches along with all the other prisoners in San Quentin. His arm and shoulder are in a large white cast. Corrections officer Mark Garrett, the skinny, tall African American guard with the pot belly shaped like a football, waits in front of Sam’s cell. Sam turns and walks into his cell along with his new cellmate, Juan Pedro. The bars clang shut and lock into place.
“Welcome home, Webb. I knew you’d come back,” Garrett whispers through the bars.
Sam sits down on his bunk and hangs his head…and then smiles.
Five counties away, Kath Battaglia Webb is dressed in an orange jumpsuit and marches in another line of prisoners, all of them women. She turns left and walks into her cell and the door closes shut. A female guard looks through the window at her.
“I’m watching you, convict,” the guard says.
Kath sits down on her bunk. On a small shelf is a wooden plaque from the Chapel of the Bells, carved with the poem Ode to Love. Kath smiles.
EPILOGUE
I t’s five years later. Kath steers the Camaro into the Vista Point at the thirteen-mile marker on the Mt. Rose Scenic Highway. Aunt Bella still owns the muscle car. In fact, she’s in the front passenger seat. Kath climbs out of the car into the sunshine. Blue Lake Washoe is far below.
“I’ll be just a minute, Bella,” Kath says.
“Hurry up, I want to get to the CalNeva casino before the buffet ends, and I want some time at the blackjack tables,” Bella says. She’s slower and older, but still tough.
“We’ve got things to do first, Auntie,” Kath says.
“The hotel swimming pool is right on the California Nevada border. The line goes right through the middle. I want to see that,” Bella says.
“I promise you’ll see it,” Kath says.
Kath closes the car door, goes to the rock wall and finds the path that leads down behind it, next to the steep drop off. She touches the wall, feeling the rocks and searching…
She finds a loose rock. She brushes the dirt away, then yanks the boulder out of the wall, sending it tumbling down the steep hillside, barely missing the hairpin turn below. She reaches into the hole and pulls out the old blanket. She unwraps it and finds the thermos still inside. She opens the thermos and the land deed is still inside. Kath pulls it out very slowly. It’s wrinkled, but it’s dry and clean.
Half an hour later, Kath drives the Camaro to the top of the mountain above Truckee and finds her alpine meadow. The “For Sale” sign is gone, and so is Inge’s Datsun 610.
But Sam is in the middle of the meadow, waiting.
Kath gets out of the car and runs to him. They embrace in a long kiss. Kath breaks away and they both gasp for air and then laugh.
“Bella won five hundred thousand dollars at the track,” Kath says. “She’s giving it all to us to build the house. She just wants to live with us.”
“I’ll drive her to the casino every day. How about if the house faces this way?” Sam asks, pointing down towards Lake Tahoe in the distance.
“Great. Can the master bedroom have a Magic Massage?”
THE END
Here I lay me down to sleep
To wait the coming morrow,
Perhaps success, perhaps defeat,
And everlasting sorrow.
Let come what will, I'll try it on,
My condition can't be worse;
And if there's money in that box
'Tis munny in my purse.
— Black Bart
You can find more writing by Ian Bull, plus free downloads at:
IanBullAuthor.com
To contact him and learn more about upcoming releases:
[email protected]
Special Thanks to:
Douglas Gorney, Joe Weiss, Robin Berlin, Pat McCall,
Deni Siedschlag, and Toni Gallagher