by Shawn Inmon
For the most part, Scott skipped the vigilante duties he had once embraced. His body was too broken to be able to do what he had once done.
Still, he kept his notebooks. Whenever something came up that he thought he could still handle, he left his little cabin in the Oasis and hit the road once more.
One of those happened in October, 1994. Joe and Sam gave Scott a ride to Portland, where he caught a flight to Charlotte, North Carolina. He left his weapons at home. He knew he wouldn’t need them this time.
In Charlotte, he rented a car and drove a little over an hour to John D. Long Lake, a man-made lake in South Carolina. He drove around the lake, found the boat launch, and parked. He got out of his car and surveyed the surroundings. He hiked around until he found a spot where he could be essentially hidden from view, but could still see the boat launch.
He paced off the distance between his hiding spot and the launch. Seventy-five feet. He certainly didn’t have sprinter’s speed these days, but Scott judged he could run that far when called upon.
He drove to the nearby town of Union, and found a small motel.
Scott had hoped to combine this one last job with finding a few more lost souls for the Oasis, but as he drove around Union, he knew that was unlikely to happen. It was the kind of small town that took care of its own. It was far enough off the beaten path that it didn’t attract a lot of itinerant vagrants.
He grabbed a burger at Dairy Queen and vowed to start eating better when he was off the road to stay. He knew he had a full day the next day, so he gratefully crashed in his little room next to the highway.
The next morning Scott was up early, as usual. He knew that what he was there for wouldn’t happen until later, but not unlike his very first job, he felt nervous about this one. He stopped at a convenience store, bought two bottles of water, a sandwich and chips, and a cup of coffee to jump start his brain.
He drove back to the lake and looked around. He didn’t want his car to be seen from the boat launch, so he drove it half a mile away and parked it in a spot that would look like someone had taken off for a hike.
He grabbed the equipment he had brought with him, along with his food and drinks, and hiked to the spot he had scouted out the day before.
By 11:00 a.m., everything was set up and in place. It was a Monday, exactly one week before Halloween, and the lake was deserted. Scott sat for hours, watching for vehicles, but aside from one pickup that cruised in then turned right around, there were none.
Finally, at 3:45, a maroon Mazda four door rolled in and came to a stop.
Scott took a deep, calming breath.
He moved to the edge of his cover and waited.
The car idled for several minutes, smoke curling up from its tailpipe. Finally, a young brunette woman opened the door. She leaned inside and fidgeted with something. Scott didn’t hesitate. He began to run.
The woman stepped back from the car and stood mute while it rolled toward the lake, slowly picking up speed.
Scott sprinted. Through the back window, he saw the tops of two car seats.
The driver’s door was still open, swaying as the car bumped over the approach.
Scott planned to get there before the car hit the water. He didn’t make it.
The car slowed a bit as it hit the resistance of the lake and Scott managed to catch up. He dove for open door, leaped inside and slammed on the brake. Cold water rushed in and filled the front of the Mazda up over the seat. Scott jammed the car into Park, pulled the emergency brake, and turned to look in the back seat. Two boys, one almost a baby, the other only a toddler, were looking at him with wide frightened eyes. The youngest was crying.
Scott clambered out of the driver’s side, making sure to unlock the back doors as he did. He threw the back door open and got the smallest of the boys loosened from his car seat. The older boy had somehow managed to get out on his own.
Scott did his best to smile reassuringly at them. He reached out his arms to the older boy. “Come on, champ. Let’s get you out of there.”
Scott’s world turned upside down as the woman threw herself at him, beating at his face.
“What are you doing to my children! Help! Leave them alone! Police!”
Scott righted himself, picked the woman up, and threw her into the water. He knew she was desperate and didn’t know what she would do next.
The oldest boy screamed “Mommy!” and tried to clamber across the seat. Water continued to rush in.
Scott grabbed both boys and hurried them up the launch to dry land.
The woman had picked herself up and chased after them.
She plucked the two boys up and screamed, “I’m going straight to the police!”
“No need,” Scott said. He pulled the cell phone he had bought for the trip from the pocket of his coat. He had stored it inside a plastic zipper bag in case he had needed to go into the water. He opened the bag, dialed 9-1-1 and said, “Hello. I just watched a woman try to drown her two children in John D. Long Lake.”
In the background, the woman was screaming hysterically.
“We’re at the boat launch. Can you please send someone here immediately? I’m afraid she’s still trying to hurt her children.”
The woman had vented her hysteria and spoke more quietly. “They’ll never believe you. Why would I do that? I’m going to sleep at home in my bed with my little boys, and you’ll be spending the night in a jail cell.”
“Anything’s possible, but I doubt it.” Scott reached up and touched his cheek. His fingers came away bloody.
One last war wound, I guess.
Almost immediately, the wail of sirens approached. Two local police cars came skidding toward them, tossing up a gravel roostertail.
The woman became hysterical again, pointing at Scott and screaming, “He hijacked us and drove my car into the lake. He tried to murder my children.”
Scott stood quietly.
The first officer on the scene escorted the woman to his prowler with her two boys.
The second officer approached Scott. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
Chapter Sixty
Scott did as the officer asked.
The cop clicked the cuffs on him and in a low, reasonable voice, said, “Why don’t you tell me what’s happening here?”
“Sure. I’ve been here for a few hours. I was over there,” Scott indicated his spot in the woods with a nod of his head, “taking some videos of the lake.”
The officer looked at the spot Scott had indicated, then turned and looked at the lake.
“Not much going on here this time of the year. Why were you here, taking shots of the lake?”
Scott shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Back at home, I like to put videotapes of peaceful scenes on my television and just let them play.”
The cop squinted at him. He was used to be lied to.
“Uh huh. I don’t suppose you happened to be running this camera when this all happened?”
“As far as I know, it’s still running. You want to walk over and check it out?”
TEN MINUTES LATER, another half dozen vehicles had arrived at the scene. Two more local cops, two county sheriff’s deputies, a South Carolina State Patrolman, and, for some reason, the local fire chief.
All of them gathered in a circle around the cop who had put the cuffs on Scott. That officer held Scott’s camera out, with the small screen extended. He showed everyone else what Scott had shown him.
“I’ll be goddamned,” the cop who seemed to be in charge of the scene said. “Damndest thing I’ve ever seen.” He looked at Scott, who was standing a few feet away from the circle of men, still wearing the handcuffs. The cop in charge, whose black name tag read “Rose,” turned to the cop who had put the cuffs on Scott. “Bill, get those cuffs off of him.”
Scott turned around and let the officer free him, then rubbed some circulation back into his wrists. “Thanks.”
Officer Rose said, “I can’t imagine what would h
ave happened if you hadn’t been here. Looks like she was fixin’ to drown her kids. Damndest thing I’ve ever seen,” he repeated.
Rose turned to look at the woman in the back of his car. She was holding the two children protectively against her.
“Bill, find out the name of her husband and how to get ahold of him. Then get him down here to get his kids.”
Rose turned to Scott. “Are you passing through, or...”
“I’m staying at the Barkley Motel out at the highway.”
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mind staying around town for a few more days.”
“I’ve got a ticket to fly home on Saturday. Do you think that will be a problem?”
“No, sir. What’s on that tape of yours is pretty clear. I’m going to need that as evidence, of course. I’d just like you to stick around for a few days in case we have some more questions for you.”
As it turned out, the officer named Bill knocked on the door to Scott’s room the next morning.
“Officer,” Scott said when he opened the door.
“Morning. Want a cup of coffee?”
“Always.”
“C’mon, the department’s buying. You can ride over to Margie’s Café with me.”
Once they were seated in a booth and each had a steaming cup of coffee in front of them, Bill spoke up. “You wanna tell me what you were doing out there yesterday?”
“I told you—just taking shots of the lake.”
“Mmm-hmm. I watched that whole tape myself last night. It was the most boring hour of my life.”
“Different strokes for different folks,” Scott said with a shrug.
“I noticed something funny, though. It looked like you started running toward the car before it was obvious what was happening. It was almost like you knew exactly what was going to happen, and set that camera up right there to capture it all.”
“How would I know that, do you think?”
Bill leaned back in the booth, studying Scott.
“No idea, and that’s the worst part of it for me.”
“Take a minute and think about what would have likely happened if I hadn’t happened to have been standing right there. You saw the tape. She stepped out of the car and not only didn’t help those kids, she was backing away from them.”
“I’m glad you were there. You did the right thing, and you did it fast. But you know how sometimes you look at something, and it just doesn’t all add up? That’s the way this is.” The cop poured some creamer into his coffee and stirred. “But, that’s that. Just thought I’d ask.” He looked at Scott with a keen eye.
Scott took a sip of his own coffee.
“In any case, the Chief wanted me to let you know that you’re free to leave town. We might ask you to come back and testify at trial, but I’ve got a hunch once her attorney sees that tape, it’ll never see the inside of a courtroom.”
“Good enough. Tell the Chief thanks, and thanks for the coffee.”
Earl offered to give Scott a ride back to his room, but Scott declined.
“It’s not a bad day, and when am I ever going to be back in Union, South Carolina? I think I’ll walk.”
Scott checked out of his room and drove back to Charlottesville. He got another, somewhat nicer, room by the airport and waited for his flight to leave town.
He lay on his bed that night, thinking.
Wish more of these could have been like this, but most didn’t present a bloodless solution like I saw here. I think this is it for me. A good way to go out.
Chapter Sixty-One
Back at the Oasis in Middle Falls, Scott fell into the rhythm of the next phase of his life. He still went out on the road, looking for veterans to offer a helping hand to, but those trips became less frequent with the passing years.
Something wonderful happened—the Oasis and its mission to help veterans took on a life of its own. Other wealthy people around the country saw the successes that they were having in Middle Falls and pledged money to build a similar village in their own community. Scott, Joe, and Sam took turns traveling to those towns and helping them get their own village for vets off the ground.
Meanwhile, word spread on the grapevine about these places where all vets could get a hand up. Whatever they needed—medical or dental care, counseling, or just a place to commune with other people who understood them—they found it at the Oasis. New people showed up every day, but new beds were constantly opened by those who felt like they were ready to face the world again. Somehow, it struck a balance and it worked.
Scott, meanwhile, spent a lot of time on his front porch, whittling, reading, and watching the raindrops fall. He spent some time each day in the community center, playing pool or just having coffee with people who got him.
The counseling center at the Oasis handled mental health needs for those who needed it most, but Scott found himself as a de facto counselor as well. There were a lot of men who wouldn’t dream of walking into the counseling building and signing up for a session. But, they had no qualms about sitting down and talking things over with Scott.
In 1998, Joe and Sam invited Scott over for dinner at their house. They’d gotten married a few years before, to the surprise of absolutely no one. They had a daughter, Chandra, named after Joe’s mother. Even as much as Joe gave away to fund the Oasis every year, they were still the wealthiest couple in Middle Falls.
They continued to live in the same little cottage that Joe had bought fifteen years earlier and showed no sign of moving anywhere else.
It was a gorgeous summer evening, and Joe had emphasized that they would be grilling steaks that night. Sam was good at almost everything, but the one exception was her cooking. Joe said that was how he managed to never gain any weight.
The three of them sat in the same backyard where Scott had first suggested the idea of the Oasis, ate steaks and once again had root beer to drink. Chandra lay on her stomach in the grass and watched the fish in the pond endlessly swimming.
“Things are going pretty good, don’t you think?” Joe asked.
“Which makes me think there’s another shoe to drop.”
“No, not really,” Joe said with a laugh. “A lot of the veterans we’re seeing are getting older and older. Vietnam is fading further in our rear view mirror. Just want to let you know we’ve managed to buy the twenty acre plot next to the Oasis, and Sam and I have been planning.”
“When you guys put your heads together, good things happen.”
Joe reached his hand out to Sam sitting next to him. She held it with a smile.
“We’re thinking we’re going to need more medical facilities than the Oasis can handle. So, we’re going to build a fair-sized hospital and staff it with doctors and nurses. We’re going to have a wing that can help dementia and Alzheimer’s patients, because there are so many vets living and suffering on the streets.”
“Then, we’re going to build our first section for women vets. They’re out there, too, and there will be more coming,” Sam added.
“Of course, of course. That’s all so great. Plus, there are almost certainly more wars ahead.” Scott glanced at Sam. He and Joe never talked about the future in any detail in front of her. “That’ll mean more vets in need of us for many years to come. I’m glad you guys are young.”
“Right,” Joe said. “So, that means we’re going to need even more barracks and individual houses for these people. It’s all coming. We just wanted to let you know.”
Scott had learned to keep his emotions in check. There hadn’t been room for too many feelings in this life he had chosen for himself. Still, a growing sense of satisfaction spread through him. He looked toward the setting sun and said, “Man, I’m glad I wasn’t ten seconds later getting back to the Dakota that night, or none of this would have happened.”
JOE AND SAM’S PLANS for the adjacent twenty acres proceeded apace. No project that large ever happened quickly, but by 2001, the ground had been broken and once again new buildings were takin
g place.
When Scott was a year shy of the day he had died in his longest life, he went to the doctor to be tested. Sure enough, they found the earliest stages of prostate cancer. With the early discovery, it was treated and Scott was declared cancer free.
Scott hadn’t shared with anyone what the day was that he had died in that previous life, but as it approached, he felt the old stirring to be on the road again. He borrowed one of the Oasis’s vehicles and drove west to the Oregon coast. As the sun set on what had once been the last day of his life, he sat on a rock, staring out at the frothing Pacific Ocean.
Happy emancipation day to me. When I go to sleep tonight, that will be it. I won’t have any idea what’s coming next. No idea what technological advance or earth shaking news is ahead.
He took a deep breath of the immaculate ocean air and held it deep in his lungs.
And that’s a wonderful thing.
Chapter Sixty-Two
The end of Scott McKenzie’s life was quiet and drama-free, especially when compared to the events that had transpired earlier.
The older Scott grew, the more the violence and uncertainty of that part of his life faded into the background.
The last twenty-four years of his life were spent in service to others. In many ways, he became the patron saint of The Rodrigo Hart Oasis for Veterans. He was the constant face of the Oasis, walking the trails with his weather-beaten jo, beating newcomers at pool and rummy, and always having an ear to listen to anyone.
In early 2018, cancer returned to him, this time in a different form. He cooperated with the treatments for a few months because he was enjoying his life so much and didn’t want it to end any sooner than it had to. Scott had little reason to fear death, although he had many questions about what might happen if he died of natural causes.