Electro
Page 1
Electro:
A small Texas town
By: David Lisenby
This book is dedicated to my mother, Mary Harris Lowe. She was the first person who ever encouraged me to write and always seemed to enjoy the words I put to paper. I only wish I had written this, my first novel, before she died January 23, 2016. I hope they have libraries in Heaven.
First, and foremost, I would like to thank God. Without Him, I would be nothing. None of us would.
I would like to thank my love, Marsha Reed, for her patience as I hid away in my mancave for 18 days to complete this work of fiction. She is a great human (at least I think she is humanoid).
I would also like to express my appreciation for Sean Jacob, Shadrak Otho and Bethany Brianna for allowing me the honor of serving as a parental-type unit. You guys are my favorite Lisenby’s. You inspire me to be a better man.
And to Roxie Loftin, thanks for allowing me to give you a hard time and, more so, for giving me a hard time. In caring for Marsha, you have cared for me. It certainly has not gone unnoticed or unappreciated.
Thanks to Alex (davismodeling18@gmail.com) for being my cover model. You are a great model and it is an honor to have you on my cover.
And finally, to those humans who have served as a basis for the characters in this book, thank you. These characters are not entirely you but have allowed me to bring each character to life by imagining what you might do or say in these circumstances.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 01 – Intros …………………………………………… Page 7
Chapter 02 – Business as usual ……………...………………. Page 21
Chapter 03 – A journey of 1,000 miles …….………………… Page 34
Chapter 04 – A single step ………………………………… Page 45 Chapter 05 – When paths collide ……………………………. Page 54 Chapter 06 – Momentary sanity …………………………….. Page 73 Chapter 07 – The morning after …………………….……….. Page 75
Chapter 08 – The awakening ………………………………... Page 84 Chapter 09 – Revelations ……………………………………. Page 90
Chapter 10 – Homeward bound ……………………………. Page 102 Chapter 11 – Beetle and Kay and Bear ……………………. Page 118 Chapter 12 – Oh my ……………………………………….. Page 128 Chapter 13 – Lady luck ……………………………………. Page 138 Chapter 14 – Simple man ………………………………….. Page 153 Chapter 15 – Tuesday’s gone ………………………………. Page 168
DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of fiction. The locations in the story are a fictious account of actual places in Southeast Texas. No business, governmental entity or public servant depicted in the story is an actual, living human. Any resemblance of any character to any other human, either alive or dead, is purely intentional. However, as stated in the beginning of this disclaimer, this is a work of fiction. Basing a character on a real person helps make the character come alive in the mind of the reader and not meant, in any way, shape, or form intended to criticize, mock, make fun of or insult the human the writer draws from. If anyone is offended, for any reason, about the characters, locations or the overall storyline, please accept my apologies in advance. Just remember, however, that this is a work of fiction that only lives in the mind of the writer and on the following pages.
Copyright 2018 by David Lisenby – All rights reserved - ISBN: 978-1-7266-2653-8
Chapter 1
Intros
Nothing ever came easy for Levi Kirkendall. Ever since he was a small child he had to work for everything he had. His dad had been killed in a barroom fight when Levi was three, so he didn’t have any memories of dear ol’ Dad. His mom fell off into a bottle of Wild Turkey shortly after that and never fully climbed out. It was a wonder that she was still around.
Today wasn’t much different. Ten long hours of pushin’ dirt with a beat-up old bulldozer had almost beat the operator to a pulp, but he had survived to add another days pay to his wallet. The work was hard, but the pay made it worthwhile. And now he was on his way home where a nice, hot shower was waiting for him. He’d whip up a bite to eat afterwards. First, though, the shower was much more important.
The tone on his phone told Levi that he had just received a text message. The tone also told him that the message was from Betty Jo. He’d only been out with this girl three times, but he already had special feelings for her. She lived right up the road from him for as long as he could remember. Her brother, Johnny Boy, had been Levi’s best friend for many years.
The two friends had long planned to enlist in the Army on the Buddy System as soon as they were old enough. As luck would have it, though, Johnny Boy was accepted but Levi was rejected because he had two missing toes on his left foot (hunting accident when he was a kid). That was three years ago.
When Levi ran into Betty Jo at the Wal Mart a couple of weeks ago he was floored. The skinny little sister of his good friend had grown into a beautiful young lady. They hit it off in an instant and had been seeing each other since.
A quick glance at his fuel gauge told Levi that he would be needing a little fuel sooner than later, so he decided to take the next exit where he could gas up. That would give him a chance to grab a Dr. Pepper and make a call to a pretty little lady. Besides, traffic was about to get a little heavier as he got into Beaumont … it always did at this time of day.
Levi steered his truck off the interstate and took the Walden Road exit just as the raindrops began pelting his windshield. He was glad that the gas station had an awning as he pulled up to one of the gas pumps. He figured he’d run in and grab a drink before pumping his fuel. Three minutes later he was inserting his card and pushing the right combination of buttons to bring the pump to life. As the numbers started to flash by and the liquid began filling his tank, Levi walked to the back of his truck while tapping the numbers on his phone.
“Hello, handsome” said a tiny voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, pretty lady,” Levi responded.
The two young lovers chatted on the phone for a couple of minutes talking about everything and nothing. The rain continued to fall, growing more intense with each passing moment. Before long the sound of the heavy raindrops pounding on the metal roof of the awning, along with the booming thunder growing with intensity became overwhelming. Levi had one finger in his left ear and his cell phone mashed into his right ear, but it was almost impossible to hear Betty Jo.
Levi lifted the phone from his ear and held it up into the moist air while also raising his other hand as high. “Can you give me a break here?” he shouted into the darkened sky above. Almost immediately the rain stopped. Although the sky was still covered by dark clouds, not a drop of rain fell. A final clap of thunder boomed. Then there was stillness.
Levi cocked his head to the side. He sat there with a bewildered look on his face as he listened intently. Nothing. The silence was eerie.
“Levi?” A tiny little voice escaped from a tiny little speaker and fell upon his ears. More than a bit confused Levi returned the phone to his ear.
“Yea, Betty Jo. I’m here,” said Levi.
“Is everything ok?”
Before he could answer, the pump clicked off and the lights on the awning flickered off. Levi looked toward the store to see that the electricity had apparently gone off in the entire business. He looked over toward the movie theatre in the distance and saw that the lights were also out there. He slowly turned to look toward the interstate and saw several cars slowing to a stop along the highway.
“What the hell?” he asked of no one in particular. “Betty Jo? You won’t believe what just happened.”
> - - -
C. C. walked around his little Cessna completing his pre-flight inspection. The guy from the pipeline company was due any minute and didn’t appreciate any delays in take-off. It had become a bi-weekly routine to make the hour-long flight around the county so the pipeline inspector could make sure the repair project was coming along on schedule.
Ever since Hurricane Harvey flooded all of Southeast Texas the pipeline company had been busy repairing areas where rushing waters had compromised the integrity of the pipes support systems.
It was the same route every flight and there were rarely any changes or surprises … unless you count the surprise on the last flight when B. J., the grumpy old inspector, almost spoke in a complete sentence. Rarely did he ever say more than “Yup,” or “Nope,” when communication occurred. Most often it was a shake of the head or a raised eyebrow that C. C. ever got as an answer to his many questions.
When the old codger responded with “You serious?” after being asked if the Cowboys were going to make the playoffs this year the seasoned pilot thought he was going to die laughing. Well, at least he got more than one word out of the passenger side of the plane.
Just as he checked off the last item on his inspection list C. C. noticed the black Durango coming up the road at Hawthorne Field. If nothing else the pipeline company was punctual. Hopefully they would be as dependable paying their bill.
Within minutes the small aircraft left the runway and circled around to begin their loop across the county. There was no need to gain much altitude since they were going to have to stay low enough to make the visible inspection viable. C. C. piloted the plane from location to location in silence, as he really wasn’t up to messing with his passenger.
“Come in C. C.” came a familiar voice over the radio. “Hawthorne Field to C. C. Come in, please.”
“Go ahead, Pam,” the pilot responded, happy to hear another person’s voice.
“C. C. There’s a line of thunderstorms moving in from the Gulf. It should be here in another 30 minutes or so.”
“10-4” said C. C. “We’ll be heading that way shortly. We should be on the ground in plenty of time to beat the rain. See you soon, sweetheart.”
C. C. looked over at his cohort in the passenger seat. “There’s a front headed toward us from the south,” he said. The inspector nodded.
“Want to swing over by the Neches to check on them before we take ‘er in?”
“Yup” replied the inspector. C. C. smiled.
For the next several minutes the little plane made its way to where the pipeline crossed under the Neches River near Evadale. They made a couple of passes over the area to be sure the inspector got a good look at the activity going on beneath them.
Just as they completed their turn to head back to Hawthorne Field the engine on the small plane suddenly died, as did all the electrical systems and gauges. An eerie silence enveloped the cockpit. C. C. began looking around below for a non-wooded area to try and steer the gliding airplane toward. At such a low altitude the options were limited.
“May Day. May Day.” the anxious pilot spoke into the radio mic. “May Day. May Day. Pam, we’re going down somewhere near Highway 92 north of Silsbee.”
C. C. looked over to the pale man in the seat next to him. “You ready for this?” he asked. “It’s probably about to get a little rough.”
“O. K.” he replied as he tightened his seat belt.
The seconds ticked by. The ground grew closer and closer. There was a sudden jolt as the small plane touched down in the overgrown underbrush of a competitor’s pipeline. Another jolt threw the men forward as the landing gear snapped away from the plane as if it were held on by tape. C. C. was amazed that the plan was suddenly sliding upon its belly on the slick, muddy ground. He turned his gaze toward his passenger and smiled as they careened along.
“Would you look at that?” he chuckled.
“Deer stand,” the inspector replied.
“That’s two words,” C. C. thought to himself as he turned his gaze through the windshield just in time to see a wooden deer stand crash into it and explode. Everything went blank.
- - -
Arlene could feel the heat radiating from the tears as they gently flowed down her cheeks. This was the first time she had cried since she heard those three words Jim had told her. She had known him since she went to nursing school over two decades ago. He had continued his education and became a good doctor; she had gone to work at the nursing home in her hometown.
Their lives had taken completely different paths. She got married and eventually became mother to four beautiful daughters. He remained single and focused entirely on his career and his desire to be the best in his field. She knew from her recent visit with him that he had achieved his goal. He was the best.
Arlene thought about Ron. He was a great husband to her and an amazing father to their children. They had built a great life together and had fallen into a very comfortable routine together. Her world had been turned upside down that fateful day just a year ago when Ron was killed while helping with the rescue effort during Hurricane Harvey. She hadn’t wanted him to go with the guys that day, but he insisted he had to.
“God put us here for a reason,” he had said. “It’s up to us to take care of each other. We were told to love our neighbors and to help one another. Our place is high and dry but there are so many people who have lost everything. Love, there are people whose houses are under water and they can’t get out. I have to do my part and help. We’ll be back in a couple of days and everything will be back to normal.”
She knew that he was right and, given the kind of man he was, he was headed to Beaumont whether she liked it or not. Ron was a man of conviction and principals.
“You go ahead and go,” she had finally conceded. “But if you’re telling me that you’re in love with old widow Haynes next door you better not come back.” She’ll remember his laughter forever.
A new tear rolled down her cheek as a light rain fell outside.
If it weren’t for her girls Arlene wouldn’t have made it through the loss. They had lost their father and she had to be strong for them. She realized that it was, more than likely, that the girls were the ones who had been strong for her. It was possible that when she thought they were leaning on her for support that she was, instead, leaning on them. Diane had come from Houston to stay with the family during that troubled time.
This trip was the first time since the funeral that Arlene had seen her eldest daughter. They had spent the day shopping at the Galleria and then hanging out at Diane’s apartment. It was interesting to discover that her little girl was now a grown woman who was making her own way in the world. Sitting on the patio drinking a glass of wine, the two women talked as they never had before. They were equals … two nurses enjoying the company of the other, away from all the patients and staff until late in the night.
Arlene had spent the night with Diane and the two had enjoyed a hearty breakfast together before her meeting with Jim. Diane didn’t know anything about the meeting. Her mother didn’t want to tell any of the girls about it unless things progressed to the next level.
After her conversation with Jim, Arlene knew that things had, indeed, progressed. She was going to have to figure out how to get all four girls together and then how to tell them the news. She didn’t know what to say to them. After everything they had been through in the past year …
The rain peppering her windshield brought Arlene back into focus of the task at hand; driving. The tears stained her face. She reached up and wiped her cheek as she exhaled loudly. “Snap out of it,” she thought to herself. There was so much to do to prepare for the coming changes and she knew that she had to take the bull by the horns and get ahead of things. Crying about it wasn’t doing any good.
In her mind she could see the intensity in Jim’s eyes as he looked at her for a moment before finally speaking. Those three words. Why did he have to say them? Why did he have to mean them
? Why now?
“You have cancer.”
Arlene blinked her eyes as the last teardrop escaped from her. That would be the last tear she would shed over this. From here on out she was going to fight. She was going to beat this diagnosis and she was going to survive.
The nurse in her told her that they had caught it in the early stages and the prognosis was good. The mother in her told her that she had overcome everything thrown her way before and this was just another thing. The Christian in her told her that she needed God more now than ever before.
She prayed a silent prayer. She asked for strength. She asked for healing. She asked for compassion. She asked for a sign that He was with her.
Suddenly the rain stopped just as a bright light engulfed her vehicle and a thunderous clap temporarily deafened her. At the same time all the lights on her instrument panel went out and her engine silenced as it stopped running. Arlene could feel her heartrate race as her Chevy Cruze coasted to a stop on the shoulder of the highway.
Then everything was quiet. Eerily quiet.
- - -
Jerry was a meth head. Plain and simple. Meth head.
It sounded like a good idea when Dalton suggested that they float down the creek. They were both wired up and needed some way to work off a little excess energy. Besides, that way they wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else while they were tweaking. They did their last bump then climbed into the old canoe that had previously been hidden in the brush behind the sandbar.
Jerry had grown up on Village Creek and floated down it just about every way you could during his lifetime. He had a lot of happy memories of the bygone days when he and his family had spent time together on the banks of the creek, swinging from the old rope swing into the muddy waters or canoeing down the creek when the water was deep enough that you didn’t have to carry the canoe more than it carried you.