by Chad Josey
“So, I will read this out loud to y’all. Please stop me at any point if you have questions.” Bobby pulled a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses from the front pocket of his shirt underneath his jacket breast. He took a sip of water from the glass on his desk, clearing his throat.
“I, Elizabeth Esther Bishop, an adult living at 207 Chatham Lane, Pasadena, Texas, being of sound mind, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament. I revoke all wills previously made by me with this Will being effective as of December 1st, 2003.”
Bobby spoke the words on the paper. The words were from Liz. Beads of sweat formed on Bobby’s forehead, his voice sounded like cotton balls crammed his mouth.
It’s not that hot in here. Bobby must have really liked Grandma.
“I appoint Robert Stephenson Spivey, Esquire, as my Personal Representative to administer this Will, and ask that he be permitted to serve without Court supervision and without posting bond.”
Uneasiness consumed Joe as his thoughts raced.
Who is this man Grandma trusted with this? Why didn’t I come to see her before? Where did he get that ugly tie?
Bobby continued his reading. “I direct Mr. Spivey to pay from my residuary estate all the expenses of my last illness, administration expenses, all legally enforceable creditor claims… ”
Bobby spoke the words, but Joe lost focus on what he said. Memories of his grandma rushed to him, which he had repressed over the years.
A sense of guilt crept back again as small tears fell down the side of his cheek closest to Mary. She glanced over to Joe and extended the back of her index and middle fingers together wiping his tears. Mary placed her hand on the back of his neck as Bobby continued.
“I devise, bequeath, and give my house and all its possession to Middle Creek Baptist Church of Pasadena in full care and responsibility to Minister Samuel Greene. If Minister Greene is no longer the pastor of Middle Creek Baptist Church, then I ask the current minister to assume full responsibility.”
Mary squeezed Joe’s hand.
“The Church and the members there became my family, seeing me through the darkest of days. And, in their honor and in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ, I pledge my eternal love. Please do what you see fit to do with my house.”
“So… uh… um… everything in the house, including the house, goes to the Church?” Joe asked. He turned to Mary, but she did not look back. Joe saw her eyes were pink as her ability to keep from crying had been a challenge.
“Joseph, Liz spoke very candidly during the afternoon when we prepared this document. She confided in me that if it had not been for the church that there is no way she could have made it. Could have provided for you. Could have helped get you to college. Your success made her so proud of you.”
Bobby took another sip of water. “Shall I continue or give you folks a moment?”
Mary saw Joe nod his head and said, “Let’s continue.”
“To my loving grandson, Joseph Jacob Bishop… ”
Joe closed his eyes hearing these words from Bobby. He imagined hearing his grandma’s voice, as Bobby spoke the words she had written in the Will.
“I love you more than words can even imagine. That night of Rachel’s funeral, when I told you that your mama and daddy would always be with you, you became my hero.”
A lump formed in Joe’s throat.
“You were so strong as a little boy, who had been through already too much. That little boy grew into a handsome young man, who married the love of his life in Mary. The both of you have made me so very proud and happy to be your grandmother. And, I promise you. I will always be with you. Always.”
The crack in Bobby’s voice in reading the last sentence made Joe open his eyes. His grandma’s voice had disappeared as Bobby’s voice became clear again.
“So, I Elizabeth Esther Bishop, devise, bequeath, and give the following items from within my household possessions to my grandson, Joseph: all my photo albums, home movies, and scrapbooks. These are the collections of our family and our wonderful memories. I want you to have these. To share with your family, and to continue our memories as you proceed in your life.”
Mary’s hand became cold and wet in Joe’s.
“Also, I give to you the antique writing desk that belonged to your grandfather, Eli. My fondest memories involve watching you study long hours into the night while at that desk. Remember, Joseph as I always would say to you that the truth is in this desk.”
Bobby took another sip of water.
“Under penalties of perjury, we, the undersign Testator and witnesses declare Elizabeth Esther Bishop to be of sound mind and in good health. All of which is attested to this first day of December 2003.”
As Bobby concluded the reading of the Will, silence filled the room for an uneasy few seconds. Joe glanced up from his lap to Bobby. “So, what’s next?”
“Next? It’s a lot to take in I’m aware. Our office will contact Minister Greene to start our proceedings accordingly. This includes filing all the necessary paperwork with the cities of Pasadena and Houston. And, the State of Texas for that matter.”
“What about the items mentioned, should we… uh… go collect those?” Mary asked, trying to ask the questions she imagined were in Joe’s mind.
Joe sat emotionless.
“We’ve already made arrangements to have them delivered to your apartment in New York. Unfortunately, because the house and said property will turn over to the Minister, we cannot allow you to go inside.”
“Uh, I understand,” Joe said, turning to Mary. “There’s too many memories in that house, and… and, I am okay with that.”
“It’s tough… a tough situation… such a good, church-loving woman. And, again, I am truly, deeply sorry for your loss.”
Joe stood from his chair, signaling Mary to stand also. He reached out his hand across Bobby’s desk. “Thank you, Bobby. I can tell you thought very highly of my grandma.”
“Joseph and Mary, everyone, who met Liz, loved her.” Bobby reached over to shake Mary’s hand next.
“I’m happy because the church can always use the donations, or even use the house in other ways. So, I am at peace with this,” Joe said.
Bobby walked around his desk and opened the door to an empty lobby.
“So, will we be seeing you tomorrow at Liz’s funeral service?” Mary asked as she stepped out of Bobby’s office.
“No, unfortunately, I’m leaving on vacation tomorrow.” Bobby’s eyes darted around the lobby as he walked Joe and Mary to the front door.
“Well, Bobby, thank you again. And, thank you for the kind words about my grandma. It really means a lot to know she had such wonderful friends near her.”
Joe placed his hand on the small of Mary’s back nudging her toward the front door. He wanted to run away from his building sadness inside the lobby.
“Again, you’re welcome. It was my pleasure knowing Liz. Now, if there’s anything you need over the coming days, please don’t hesitate to call the office. Alice, she will help y’all in any way.”
“Thank you,” Mary said as she leaned over to kiss Bobby’s cheek. “Have a good time on your vacation.”
Joe opened the door of the office and stepped out into the muggy, Gulf Coast night air. “You have a good night,” Joe said, shaking Bobby’s hand one last time.
“And, it’s bad timing and all, but, again, Happy New Year to y’all. Have a good night ya hear,” Bobby said as he waived good-bye.
Joe and Mary walked across the parking lot to their car. “So, that must have been Alice’s Corvette parked out here earlier,” Joe said attempting to divert their attention from what had just happened. Joe pressed the key fob. The rental cars lights flickered with a quick horn chirp. Joe walked hand-in-hand with Mary, leading her to the passenger side of the car. Mary placed her hand on the door to prevent Joe from closing.
“I love you,” Mary said.
“I love you, too.” Joe kissed her before closing the door. As he walked t
o the driver’s side, one statement in the Will bothered Joe.
Remember, Joseph, as I always would say to you that the truth is in this desk.
Joe opened his door, sat down, and placed the key into the ignition. He paused for a moment before backing the car out of its space.
I don’t remember Grandma ever saying that?
Bobby locked the front door of the office from the inside. As he was about to turn out the lights, the connecting door to the empty, adjoining office opened.
Only two offices were in the small, brick building. The building sat alone in a business park in southeast Houston.
A smile appeared on Bobby’s face as a man appeared in the doorway. “Were you listening?” Bobby asked.
“Yes. They seemed to take everything well. And, you did an excellent job,” the man said.
“Do you think they suspect anything?” Bobby asked.
“Hell, you sounded like a real lawyer there for a moment, I didn’t even recognize who you were,” the man said. “If they were monitoring Joe, then they will think he visited with Mr. Spivey.”
As Bobby and the man continued their conversation, Alice appeared through the darkness of the empty, adjoining office. She stepped into the lobby standing between Bobby and the man still in the doorway.
Alice turned to Bobby and said, “Luther, you need to help me with these bodies. Spivey’s a fat son-of-a-bitch, and I can’t lift him into the barrel. But, I was able to take care of that bitch with no problem.”
“Okay, Alice, I’ll help,” Luther said.
“What a stupid name. Don’t call me that shit, again. It was hard enough playing your secretary.”
“Ruth, Luther… ” the man in the doorway said getting their attention with a firm voice showing he was in charge, "you both played your parts well. We’ve put in motion, tonight, hopefully the steps to help us find him. Then, we will have all the proof we need to tell the World everything.”
“Do you think this Joseph knows where he is?” Ruth asked.
“Time will tell. But, for now, Luther, you’ve got to continue your part as Mr. Spivey and take care of the house with the church. Ruth, you move ahead with getting those items delivered to New York.”
“Sure thing, Boss,” they both said together. Ruth again passed the man through the doorway, disappearing into the empty, adjoining office.
Luther walked over behind the man still in the doorway and placed his hands on the back of the man’s wheelchair. Luther spun the man in the wheelchair around, pushing him into the darkness next door. They followed Ruth to help dispose of the bodies of Robert Spivey and his secretary, Alice.
January 15, 2004
Stony Brook, New York
LONG ISLAND IN JANUARY can be a brutal time of year. But, tonight felt different. It was like an early spring in comparison with the temperature near freezing and no breeze.
The weather made for a rather pleasant time to walk home from dinner, as the Irish Pub was next door to Joe and Mary’s apartment in Stony Brook.
Large, fat snowflakes floated across the air. Their college town appeared like the inside of a snow globe.
“Joe, it is so beautiful tonight.” Mary stuck out her tongue to catch one of the many snowflakes falling around them.
“Yeah, it’s crazy, because a few days ago, we were in eighty-degree weather back home in Texas.”
She caught two flakes with her tongue and pulled herself closer into his arms. They meandered their way back to their apartment.
“We better not get sick because of it…” Mary paused as she hugged his arm tighter. “That’s the first time you’ve said the word home when talking about Texas in a long time.”
Joe stared into the distance of the white veil ahead. “It’s just we’ve been here almost five years now and Long Island feels more like home to me than Texas.”
“Yeah, but you still say y’all instead of yous guys,” she said, laughing at him while tugging his arm. “So, there goes to prove you're still at least a Southern boy at heart.”
“Yee-haw,” Joe replied in an exaggerated voice.
“Do you miss home?” Mary asked staring up at him. Snow collected in small patches in his hair.
“I miss Grandma, but as far as missing home. Not really. I have you, here… Charlie… my work.” Joe gave her a quick kiss, while the snow fell faster.
“Yeah, I don’t miss home either. The weather I miss sometimes, but barbecue, now that’s another story.”
They did not mind shivering outside, as snow still was new to them, even after five years of living on Long Island.
“Mary,” Joe held her hand stopping them from continuing, “this whole funeral thing got me thinking. We should try to have a baby.”
Her eyes widened leaning back her head as she smiled. “That would be wonderful. But, last time we talked about this, we weren’t sure about money, bills… you know, whatever.”
“But, we shouldn’t wait any longer? Life's too short.”
Mary stood on her tiptoes. The streetlight shined through the thickening snowfall. She placed her hands behind his neck and kissed him. Snowflakes tickled their faces. Moments had passed. She pulled away. Snow crunched under her as her feet landed back to the ground.
“Yes,” she said.
Joe placed his long arms around her, hugging her tight against his body. “Okay, let’s go, I’m freezing.”
“Well, when we get inside, I’ll warm you up,” she said, taking her hand and swatting his butt.
The motion of her hand propelled them forward kicking through the snow-covered sidewalk home. Four feet pounding collected snow from their shoes disrupted the silence inside the building’s foyer.
As Joe turned on the stairway light, he glanced up the flight of steps to their apartment. “Mary? Did you lock the door when you left?”
Earlier in the afternoon, Joe had called her to meet him at the Pub on his way home from the lab for dinner. Mary saw their door, opened about an inch.
“Yeah… well… I’m sure, at least, I thought I did. I was home at two o’clock when the delivery guys showed up to drop off the desk and box of pictures from your grandma. Then, you called, and I left to go to the pub to meet you.”
Joe searched the open space of the stairwell. “I’ll go—”
She interrupted him, “I must have forgotten to pull it shut or something?”
“Mary, stay, here. I’ll go in and check.”
“Check for what?” she asked puzzled as Joe walked upstairs. Mary grabbed his arm stopping him and said in an exaggerated whisper, “Stop. You think someone’s in there?”
“I don’t hear anything, but just stay here.” Joe removed her hand from his arm.
He went upstairs. Taking each, slow step seemed to make the situation for Mary even more alarming. Loud, creaking sounds came from the fifty-year-old wooden steps.
Reaching the top, Joe slowly pushed open the door. He stretched his hand inside the room. Light escaped through the opened doorway, down the stairwell refracting off the melting snow on his jacket.
Joe disappeared into the apartment. Mary followed up the steps. Air escaped fast from her as Joe appeared in the doorway.
“All’s clear,” Joe shouted, not seeing Mary standing there because he thought she was still downstairs. “Oh, sorry about that.” Joe grabbed her hands. “I didn’t mean to scare ya.”
“Give me a heart attack why don’t ya.” Mary rolled her eyes at her own comment. “Oh, sorry. Bad choice of words.”
“I checked the rooms. No one’s here. You probably just didn’t pull it closed tight when you left like you said.”
“I guess?” Joe's paranoia had developed since moving to New York serving as a constant reminder to Mary to lock the doors and windows of their apartment.
“Well, if someone was here, we’d see their footprints. Look at these I made walking in here without taking off my shoes.”
“Good point, Sherlock,” Mary said almost tipping over taking off her
first boot. She did not want to track any more snow and water than necessary into the living room.
“You know that part about not missing home we were talking earlier? It’s coming back inside from the snow I will never miss when the time comes to leave here,” Joe said.
He untied his shoes and placed them in the tray next to the door and hung his coat on the nearby hook. “So, show me what came today.”
Mary finished taking off her boots, placing them and her coat beside his. She led him into the guest bedroom. A red futon sat in the far corner of the room with his grandpa’s antique writing desk on the opposite side near the door.
“It fits perfect in here,” she said, walking to the desk with Joe still standing in the doorway. “I remember in high school coming over to your house and seeing you do your homework at this.” She rubbed one hand across the top of the writing surface.
“Yeah, I always liked doing my homework here. Just something about it, I guess. I always thought it was pretty cool.”
Mary sat in a black metal chair behind the desk, opening-and-closing the many drawers.
Joe walked behind her and grabbed a small wooden tab at the top of the desk. In one quick motion, he pulled it down as a flexible wooden screen rolled over the writing surface.
“Grandma used to get on me about playing with this. It made this awful noise throughout our house.”
“So, Grandpa Eli bought this desk?”
“Evidently… to be honest, I know little about the history of it.”
“Oh, but Liz must have loved it or something for this to be the thing she left you.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Honestly, I remember doing all my homework and playing with this roll-top thing, but I thought nothing more of it.”
“Well, Liz must have thought you loved it. What about her comment in the Will about always telling you something about the desk?”
“Really, I don’t know what she meant. Maybe she used to tell me something nice when I was doing my work and it meant something to her.” He lifted the roll-top back up into place. “And, I don’t understand what she meant by the truth being in the desk.”
“Maybe there’s a million dollars hidden here somewhere.” Mary gave a fake, evil laugh while opening one of the side drawers.