Chapter Thirty-Five
At the hospital, Sylvia enters the Student Lounge. She is already dressed for the memorial service and is holding a man’s suit, shirt and tie as David emerges from the lounge’s changing room, freshly groomed.
“David, here’s your clothes. Eddie picked them up from your place on his way from changing.”
“Thanks, Sylvia. You guys are great. I mean it.”
Sylvia gives a little nod and a sad smile.
“You, too, David,” she says. “Now get ready. I’ve got to finalize the little eulogy the Minister asked me to say. – Here are your keys back. We’ll see you there.”
She tosses David a set of keys and quickly heads out the door as David begins to get dressed.
Chapter Thirty-Six
In a north Atlanta suburb, a crowd of well-dressed people gathers on the grounds of a funeral home. Some chat in hushed tones. A minister greets others as they enter and are shown to their seats. The parking lot is completely full and funeral home attendants direct newly arriving vehicles down a beautiful tree-lined adjacent street. The sound of reverential organ music can be heard coming from the sanctuary.
In the back of the funeral home, a telephone rings. A male associate in a dark suit answers in somber tones.
“Funeral and Interment of North Atlanta. May I be of service?... Yes, certainly.”
The associate looks at his scheduling book.
“Houston,” he says into the phone. “Yes, Sir... ‘An old friend.’ – But I’m afraid it is just about fifteen more minutes. We do offer floral arrangements, not too expensive I might add, for those too far awa-... Certainly, Sir. Traveling in on Interstate 20 from Birmingha-... Just give you the address. Yes, Sir. We are located at 1400 Northside Drive-”
Another telephone line rings.
“Sir, may I ask you to hold for just one moment, please?”
The assistant puts the call on hold and answers the second line. As he does, another associate comes in, carrying a small closed container marked “Autopsy.” He holds it up to the first man who simply points to a shelf.
The first associate now answers the second line.
“Funeral and Intestine... uh, Interment of North Atlanta. May I be of your services?... That’s right, Sir. Houston... Wheelchair? Yes, I think he did... I see. ‘An old friend.’ Right, right... ”
He almost loses his decorum.
“That’s right! In fifteen minutes! It sounds just too far-... Well, try then! Goodbye!”
The first associate looks at the second and shakes his head.
“This guy Houston’s not even been found and they’re pouring in from the boonies. I mean, this last guy was polite but definitely a ‘bona-fried’ redneck, you know what I mean?”
The second associate just shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
“And this guy from Alabama,” the first associate continues, pointing back at the blinking phone line. “No class.” He takes the original call off of hold.
“I’m so sorry to-... Ehhh, he hung up!”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jesse’s Air Force jet lands smoothly at the military base just north of Atlanta. It taxis to a stop near a waiting government sedan, its doors open, a driver at the ready. Jesse descends the ladder that is hastily put against the plane and assists other personnel as they lower Dewitt to the ground. Both men enter the waiting car and it immediately drives off very fast.
“Did the Feds track down David yet?” Dewitt asks Jesse.
“The driver told me they just missed him at the hospital. He’s gone to some kind of memorial – for you. They just found out about it.”
“And no sign of the bad guys?”
“No, not so far,” replies Jesse.
“Jesse, we have to get there. Did they tell you where it is?”
“Yeah, not far. The driver knows. – And I got the number.”
Organ music continues to play softly inside the funeral home sanctuary. Sitting on an aisle near the front is Sylvia, holding hands with Trey. Eddie sits next to them, but a space remains beside Eddie in an otherwise filled row. – David has not arrived. Nor has Sarge.
The organ music stops. A chime sounds four times. At the front, the minister rises and approaches the chapel’s lectern. He looks at Sylvia and then peers over the congregation.
“I know many of you have very busy schedules,” the minister begins. “And though some friends have not yet arrived, I know Doctor Houston would have wanted us to begin right on time.”
Trey and Eddie punch each other as other students throughout the chapel suppress little laughs.
The minister surveys the chapel once again. Sylvia looks at the main door and then exchanges a little shrug with the minister.
“As the hospital chaplain where he taught, I met Doctor Houston on a number of occasions. But I can’t say I truly-”
Dewitt is on a car phone, trying to reach the funeral home. In the darkened director’s office at the home, the telephone rings and Dewitt is left listening to an answering machine.
“Thank you for calling FINAL: Funeral and Interment of North Atlanta, Limited.”
Dewitt stares at the phone and mouths “FINAL? – Oh, boy.”
“At present, we are conducting a service. You may leave us a mess-”
In the car, Dewitt hangs up abruptly. He talks directly to the telephone:
“A mess: That’s exactly what I’m afraid we will leave!”
Back inside the chapel the minister is continuing.
“... and with that in mind, I have asked the Chief of Staff... ”
He points to a distinguished gentleman near the front.
“... and a student of Dewitt’s, Miss Sylvia Alexander, to say a few words at this time. First, Miss Alexander.”
The government car carrying Jesse and Dewitt leaves the Interstate and with tires squealing turns onto Northside Drive. Dewitt holds the remote device as he speaks with Jesse.
“I don’t know how close you’ll have to be,” he tells Jesse, “but if they haven’t cleared the building by the time we get there... ”
Jesse takes the device from Dewitt.
“Don’t worry,” Jesse assures him. “I’ll push its little button till the cows come home!”
“Thanks, Brother. Looks like our best chance. Uh, driver, how long?”
“We’re there!” says the driver.
Sylvia stands behind the rostrum of the sanctuary. She speaks with a warm but sad voice.
“Thank you, Reverend Hewitt. I have to disagree with you on one account, though, Reverend... ”
Tires squeal outside the chapel. A startled late-arriving David, along with an equally startled Sarge, wonder what is going on. They rush up to the car. When Jesse gets out, Sarge gives him a bear hug, then steps back and almost collapses as he sees Dewitt sitting in the car.
“Oh, my goodness, thank you, Lordy!” Sarge shouts.
David is too stunned to speak but both he and Sarge are quickly filled in on the barest details and the need to protect the congregation from the bomb threat. Sarge rushes to the vestibule of the chapel and commandeers a wheelchair, then heads back to help get Dewitt out of the car.
“... With Doctor D.,” Sylvia is saying, “we would definitely have not started on time, as my fellow students can attest.”
She receives nods of smiling agreement.
“In fact,” she continues, “I once told him that I swore he would be ten minutes late... ”
The main doors at the back of the chapel burst open. David and Jesse rush in, Jesse pressing the bomb device override again and again.
“... to his own funeral.”
Suddenly, Sarge comes in, pushing Dewitt in the wheelchair.
Sylvia is astonished. Everyone turns round and a loud murmur ripples throughout the chapel. Sylv
ia puts a hand to her mouth. She finally lets out a little scream of recognition and gestures toward the back of the room, bursting into tears, as she says:
“And what can I say! There he is!”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Police, fire and F.B.I. vehicles are on the scene at the funeral home. Members of these units’ tactical squads exit the chapel and mill about. Many people still stand around, talking with each other about the incredible news. Dewitt sits surrounded by his four closest students as Jesse comes up to the group. He’s smiling.
“Hey, no bomb,” Jesse announces. “Here, catch,” he says as he tosses the remote device to Dewitt, who grins and puts it in his shirt pocket.
“Jesse,” Dewitt says, nodding to his students, “these are my students: David, who I think you know about for sure; Sylvia and Trey; and Eddie. Guys, this is my big brother, Jesse.”
Everyone exchanges hellos and ad-lib relief and amazement. A smiling Sarge returns to the group pushing a different wheelchair, one with a large shiny metal contraption attached to it. He lifts Dewitt and transfers him into its seat.
“Sarge,” says Dewitt, “you didn’t forget! Wow! A faster contraption. – I hope!”
Sarge is his jovial Southern self again.
“Dewitt Houston,” he says, “your brother just told me you have been goin’ two times the speed of sound to get here. No way I can scoot ya that fast!”
Everyone laughs. Dewitt surveys the whole scene.
“Right,” he says, “let’s get out of here. You would think there was a funeral or something.”
As everyone begins to head toward the few remaining cars on the property, Sarge slows and speaks.
“I’m gonna get on back to the hospital. I may need one of them EKG’s to check my ticker,” he laughs.
He bids them all farewell and departs.
“You came by jet?!” Sylvia asks Dewitt.
“Yes,” he answers, “and I was still ten minutes late, I’ll have you know!”
By now the group has reached Trey and Sylvia’s car, and they and Eddie prepare to get in.
“Guys,” says Dewitt, “why don’t you take Jesse and we’ll meet at O’Brien’s for a cold one? I’ll ride with David.”
“I’ll go get my car, Doctor D.,” announces David.
The others leave, honking the horn and waving to David as he begins walking the long side street to pick up his car. Just before he reaches it, he stops and peers over the side of a small bridge, shaking his head in wonder at what had just happened and taking in the passing traffic far below.
Dewitt takes the remote out of his shirt pocket and looks down the road toward David. He barely notices a pickup truck entering the street at the far end.
“Man,” Dewitt says to the remote, “I’m glad I didn’t have to use you, little fella. – Those bad guys probably couldn’t find a rental car. – Car!”
Suddenly, Dewitt begins pushing himself toward David’s car while yelling at the top of his lungs, as the pickup truck approaches slowly towards the vehicle.
“David! David!” yells Dewitt. “Get away! Get away from your car!”
David has reached his car and is turning the door key. He looks back at Dewitt but opens the door, wondering what is going on.
Dewitt holds the remote device out in front of him and pushes its button, but this slows down his progress. He then remembers his contraption. He pulls its handle – and zooms toward David’s car!
David has frozen as he hears Dewitt yelling at him to get away. But then he understands and begins to run from the car. As he crosses the street he runs right into the path of the pickup. The truck brakes screech but the vehicle cannot fully stop and it hits David. He caroms into the sidewalk, then falls hard onto the roadway, holding his right arm in pain.
Dewitt arrives on the scene, still pressing the button on and off.
“David! Are you all right? – The bomb! I think it may be in your car!”
Before David can respond, there is a screech of car tires. From out of a side street, a dark sedan emerges, powering its engine to gain speed quickly. It aims straight for Dewitt and strikes his wheelchair, throwing him over the edge of the bridge. Dewitt’s wheelchair falls to the pavement below, about sixty feet down. Dewitt has managed to catch hold of the railing of the bridge but is hanging on for dear life.
The sedan burns rubber and heads off into the distance. At the same time a figure exits the pickup truck, which has come to a halt a few dozen yards down the road, and starts to run toward Dewitt and David.
David gets to Dewitt and tries to hold on to him with his left arm, but Dewitt begins to slip, about to fall to his death. The two have their arms locked, forearm-to-forearm.
“I can’t... I can’t hold on Doctor D.!” cries out David. “I can’t save you!”
All of a sudden, another arm reaches out to Dewitt. A powerful arm, it’s shirt sleeve rolled up, grabs Dewitt’s forearm and begins pulling.
David is exhausted and collapses to the roadway.
Dewitt reaches his other arm up, literally clawing for help from this other person trying to pull him to safety.
The other arm of the person helping extends to grasp Dewitt’s outstretched hand. This arm has a distinct tattoo!
Dewitt looks up. He recognizes the tattoo. He recognizes the Trucker!
“You!” Dewitt shouts in absolute astonishment.
The Trucker pulls Dewitt to safety. They both lie on the edge of the bridge, out of breath.
“I was sure it was you,” says the Trucker, panting for breath, “because when I called they said you used a wheelchair. I saw them news stories back in Florida when the wreck happened. – I came to pay my respects. You know, for you saving my life. – But I was running late.”
Dewitt looks at the Trucker in amazement, out of breath, until finally he speaks.
“Running late! Why do I find that so easy to relate to? – Now I owe you my life!”
David comes up, in pain and clutching his arm.
“Doctor D.! You’re okay!”
“Yep!” says Dewitt. “What a day!”
“You know what?” continues David. “Just as I was about to get in my car, I saw a briefcase and... Well, then all hell broke loose! – Who was in that car?!”
“I’ll explain it later,” replies Dewitt. He looks again at the Trucker.
“What say we call 9-1-1,” he tells the Trucker. “We’ve got to quit meeting like this!”
Soon, the siren of an ambulance and the whirling noise of a helicopter fill the air... once more.
EPILOGUE
Time has passed. Dewitt sits in his wheelchair in the hospital corridor, teaching a new gaggle of junior medical students, who look very naïve.
“So,” asks Dewitt, “who thinks they know what the gentleman with the swollen feet and legs has?”
An entourage of senior medical students, led by the chief of surgery, approaches from down the hall. The group includes David, Sylvia, Trey and Eddie. Dewitt and the four students recognize each other and wave.
“Oh, Doctor Nelson, can some of us stop off and see an old friend?” asks Sylvia. She indicates Dewitt.
“Sure,” replies the Chief. “Catch up with us in the Recovery Room.”
The four approach Dewitt. He looks around at his new bunch of students to dismiss them.
“Everybody grab a chart and prepare a summary. – Remember: Use medical terms!”
The friends look at each other with knowing smiles remembering their former naiveté.
“So, how’s Surgery?” asks Dewitt.
“Long, long hours, Doctor D.” says Eddie.
“Yeah,” adds Trey, kidding David. “David’s decided to drop out of school and open a restaurant!”
Everyone laughs as David takes the ribbing.
A mail clerk ap
proaches the nursing station and hands a packet of magazines and business letters to Dewitt.
“And besides the usual... ” she says, also handing over a hand-addressed small plain envelope.
Dewitt opens the envelope and takes out a letter.
“It’s from my buddies T. P. and Willie. – You all know the story.”
The students nod. Dewitt begins to peruse the note, silently, “hearing” Willie’s voice:
Dear Doc. T. P.’s doing the writing for the both of us. Well, we took your advice and got us a store going. It’s going good. We were glad to find you on the front page instead of, well, you know. We’ll keep in touch. All the best, Willie and T. P.
P. S. Here’s a photo of us at the store.
Dewitt shakes the envelope and picks up a photo that falls out. He looks at it and chuckles and hands it to the students, who also begin to chuckle. The note continues:
P. P. S. – From T. P. – Willie took a wrong turn.
Dewitt takes back the photo and admires it, shaking his head. Willie and T. P. are waving at the camera in front of their new store – in Mexico! Over the storefront is a sign reading:
SEÑORS WILLIE AND T. P.’S BAKERY...
Dewitt looks back at the letter. He turns to the four students.
“Guess what? It seems there’s even one more P. S. Can anybody guess what it says?”
The students all shake their heads. Dewitt hands the letter to David, who reads for a moment, then laughs and smiles.
“Hurry up and guess,” David says to Sylvia, Trey and Eddie. “I’m only going to give you to the count of three! ... One... Two... ”
T. P.’s “voice” comes through to Dewitt in the last line of the letter:
... Buckle my shoe!
Dewitt takes a final, long-lasting look at the photo. A couple of tears well up in his eyes. He smiles as he fondly reads the final part of the sign:
... AND VIDEO SHOPPE.
THE END
At Dewitt's End Page 10