The Keeper Returns (The Wallis Jones Series Book 3)

by Martha Carr

  Ned rolled his eyes and got up to go work on homework.

  “Now, hold on, she does, hear me out. Have I ever steered you wrong? Okay, there were those madras pants but I swear they were cool when I was your age. Times change, so sue me,” said Norman, giving his son a nudge. “No smile, just a little one? Around the corners?”

  Ned felt the low level of resentment he walked around with these days recede just a little. His dad had a way of doing that for him.

  “Your mom is trying to help you navigate waters that neither one of you have been in before.”

  “Exactly,” shouted Ned.

  Norman waved a hand at Ned, his usual signal to just calm down. Ned had seen him do that since he was three and was upset over what he was sure was an unfair rule about not being able to decide what he would eat for himself.

  “Except, your mother does know what is waiting for you out there,” said Norman, pointing at the back door. “You mom has a very good idea of how tough it can be to navigate through a day and how many wonderful options you will have, if only you catch on to that idea. She sees it as her job to get you to want to go find out more,” said Norman, getting off the kitchen stool and walking over to hug his son. “And she’s willing to let you hate her for a while if that’s what it takes for you to be happy for a long, long time.”

  “We’re here,” said Richard Bach. “It’ll be okay, Ned. Your uncle was telling the truth. It’s just a meeting. We want you to meet a lot of people who are very excited to meet you.”

  “You couldn’t just call my house?” asked Ned, anger returning as he started to believe he might just live to see another day.

  Richard Bach gave a chuckle. “You’re a lot like your mother, Ned. Apple doesn’t fall far, I suppose. That’s what everyone in here is hoping, anyway. No, couldn’t call your house. Your parents have made that very clear. Come on, you meet everyone, hear what they have to say and decide for yourself. That’s all.”

  All of the doors to the SUV opened and everyone slid out, leaving Ned still sitting in the middle of the back seat, wondering what to do next. He looked out the door and realized he wasn’t that far from home.

  They were in the parking lot of Baldwin’s Funeral Home along Parham Road. The parking lot was filled to capacity and more cars were still pulling in, pulling up on the grass to park.

  “They’re all here to see you,” said his uncle, smiling nervously at Ned.

  Ned looked around at all of the faces who were looking at Ned and whispering to each other as they headed for the front door.

  “Come on, we’d better get moving along. We don’t have a lot of time,” said Richard. “Your mom will be here to pick you up before you know it. She’s a clever one.”

  Richard quickly led them into the funeral home through a side door and down a long hallway, working their way back toward the large group of people who had all entered through a different door. Ned could hear the excited voices all talking at once.

  “They’re here to see me?” he asked Richard.

  “Yes,” said Richard, straightening his tie. “That they are. Hello, Mr. Clemente, I’d like to introduce you to Ned Weiskopf.”

  Richard Bach stood to the side as an older man with thick, dark hair came forward with his arms stretched forward, smiling broadly, showing off yellowed teeth. Ned tried to step back but a large hand suddenly shoved him making him take a step forward to catch his balance. George Clemente stepped forward and grasped Ned’s face in his hands.

  Ned felt the dry skin rub against his face and tried not to look afraid. Panic started to bubble up inside of him again.

  “At last,” said Clemente. “At long last, such a treasure. I trust you got here safely?” he asked, looking at Ned and then at the other men surrounding him. Ned just stared back at him.

  “Nothing to say?” asked Clemente, letting out a deep, booming laugh. “So be it, for now. Was it nice seeing your dead uncle again? You are surprised, right? The lies you have been told, my boy, they would make your head spin. And on top of that what you haven’t been told. Tsk, tsk.”

  “Mr. Clemente, there’s movement at the house,” said a woman in a blue skirt and jacket, her blonde hair in a short, nondescript bob.

  “Thank you. Well, time to let the people get what they want,” said Clemente, smiling and letting out a deep sigh. “Ned, I’ve wanted this for you for a long time. Come and meet your people.”

  Clemente opened the narrow side door and Ned saw that it was a large chapel with rows and rows of chairs facing a small altar. The chairs were filled with men and women in dark suits and neat ties, similar haircuts and sensible leather shoes. Every lapel had a gold enameled pin with an American flag prominently displayed.

  The buzz in the room was deafening as people caught up with each other talking about work and how their kids were doing, until someone spotted Ned and stood up, clapping loudly. Suddenly the entire room turned to look at Ned and erupted into loud applause as they all jumped to their feet.

  “This is all for you,” said Clemente, as he pushed Ned toward the front of the room.

  “Why?” asked Ned, leaning toward Clemente so he could hear the answer.

  “It’s a wonderful secret that’s been kept from you long enough. You are our legacy, our prodigal son.”

  Clemente backed up without saying anything else. Ned looked at him but the old man was already taking a phone call while smiling and waving at the crowd.

  Ned turned slowly and tried to take in what was happening. He recognized some of the faces. They were parents of kids he went to school with who never spoke to him, never sat with him at lunch.

  He wondered what this wonderful secret was and why anyone would keep such good news from him. “I’m popular,” he whispered. A small worry came over him that this could all be taken away just as suddenly as it happened.

  Ned gave a shy smile at the crowd and turned back again to look for Clemente. Clemente waved to Richard Bach to come join Ned on stage and Richard scuttled quickly to take a place right next to Ned, slipping his arm around Ned’s shoulders.

  “Why are they all so excited?” asked Ned, looking up at Richard.

  “You’ll see,” said Richard, as he waved to the crowd to settle down.

  “There’s not much time,” said Richard, “so we need to move this along. Ned Weiskopf, I know you don’t know why all of these nice people are gathered in this room. Well, a long time ago your ancestor, William Reitling looked around and noticed that there was no system to help an industrious young man move ahead in the world and secure a nice future for his family. If you weren’t born into money or power it was nearly impossible to change your circumstances. William wanted to do something about that,” said Richard, smiling at the crowd, who all nodded in unison.

  Ned realized most of the people in the audience must have heard this story a thousand times before. They were nodding and getting excited before Richard could get out parts of the story. Tucked into a far corner was his uncle, Harry nervously watching the crowd and occasionally giving a wink to Ned.

  “William brought the world into a new system of leadership. He devised a way for people who have ambition, accountability and a good work ethic to enter into a step by step program that would offer reward in return for effort. He helped build what was probably the world’s first middle class and he put in place a way of living that would ensure it would all be there for generations to come. That was your ancestor. You are the last descendant of William Reitling.”

  The crowd stood up again and started to cheer as if Ned had won something big. He started to feel lightheaded again and he wondered if he might throw up on his shoes.

  “What does that mean?” he asked Richard, yelling over the crowd so Richard could hear him.

  Richard leaned down so just Ned could hear him. “It means you were born to lead. This is what your great, great, great, great grandfather had in mind for you, all of those years ago. We’ve been holding a spot just for you.”

&nb
sp; “I’m only twelve,” said Ned, thinking that should have been obvious. “I ran for office once but I didn’t win,” he added, thinking it was important to really come clean.

  George Clemente stepped up and held his arm out toward the crowd. “That is the genius of what William started, Ned. There is an entire system in place to train you, and especially you, so that when you are really ready, you can take your place at the front of the line.”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” someone screamed from the back of the crowded room. Ned couldn’t see her but he knew that was his mother’s voice and he winced at the sound. It was the one she saved for special occasions when things were really going south.

  An aisle started to form as Wallis pushed her way to the front of the room. She pushed and shoved at anyone who didn’t move fast enough till she got to where she could see Harry who was trying to press himself even further into the corner. Wallis’ face turned ashen.

  “You,” she shouted, “you did this.” Wallis turned toward Ned, and marched up to the edge of the altar.

  “Now.”

  It was all she said in a low growl, raising her eyebrows and not looking at anyone but Ned.

  He had never heard her speak to anyone like that, especially him and at first he froze, not sure what to do. Wallis took a step forward, breathing hard and Ned startled back a step before moving quickly toward his mother. Wallis took his hand, squeezing it hard and pulled him through the crowd.

  “My backpack,” he said, trying to pull back from his mother a little.

  “We’ll get you another one,” said Wallis, pulling harder. She stopped when they came closer to Harry. “I will make sure and tell Norman you say, hello,” Wallis yelled over the crowd, still breathing hard. She stared at Harry until he turned his face to the wall and then she started plowing through the crowd again, pulling Ned along behind her.

  Faces in the crowd looked startled but were still trying to smile as Ned passed them, patting him on the back, saying, “Looking forward to seeing you again,” and “Till the next time.”

  “Don’t count on it,” snapped Wallis.

  Wallis kept pulling him along till they got to the car and she opened the door.

  “Get in,” she barked. He could tell she was trying to control herself. There was a hand print on his arm from where she had held on so tight. He slid in to the car without looking his mother directly in the eye.

  “Seat belt,” said Wallis, curling her hands into fists and then stretching them out, over and over again. “Hands in,” she said crisply and slammed the door, marching around to the driver’s side. Ned had never seen his mother that close to exploding in his entire life. He wasn’t sure she was even that angry when Oscar Newman had broken into their home. Then she seemed more scared but just as determined.

  “You mad at me?” he asked, suddenly wondering if he might start crying.

  Wallis looked at him and he could see that some of her anger immediately left her.

  “No,” she said, quietly. “I don’t know.”

  “They said I was born to lead them,” said Ned.

  Wallis hit the brakes hard, sending them both against their seatbelts.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” said Ned, over and over again. “I didn’t mean to make you mad again.” Tears started to pour down his cheeks and he sobbed into his mother’s shoulder as she pulled him close and hugged him so tightly it was hard to breathe.

  “I thought they had taken you away forever, Ned,” said Wallis.

  He looked up and saw that his mother was crying. “I’m not angry at you, Ned, you understand? None of this is your fault. When I got to the field and the police were there and they said some black SUV took you away by force.” She let the rest of the words go and wrapped her arms back around Ned. “I thought you were gone,” she whispered into his hair.

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Your Uncle Harry called me.”

  Ned leaned back so he could see his mother’s face. “Well, that’s good news, right? Harry’s still alive.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was a strange invitation to begin with and Wallis knew it but she was out of other ideas.

  Besides, after what happened she no longer cared.

  She sat at her formal dining room table looking across at her mother at one end of the table and Esther at the other as they both tried to act like they didn’t see each other.

  For just a moment, Wallis wondered if this was a bad idea.

  “We’re going to have to figure out how to work together,” she blurted out, feeling her face flush red. “Otherwise it’s going to be two years ago all over again and I’m not going to let that happen. However, I don’t believe I can do that without some help,” she said, looking at the two older women.

  They had been arguing and talking over each other since they arrived. Wallis had tried to wait them out but was starting to realize they could go on like that for hours. Ned was safely tucked into his parent’s bed watching TV and eating fried chicken. Wallis had never let him do that before but tonight she didn’t care about rules.

  She had stood in the doorway of her room for a moment, looking at her son happily biting down on a chicken leg, dripping grease onto her comforter and she felt how close she had come to not seeing him again.

  Before she had come downstairs she had found one of his old baby monitors and taken a battery out of the smoke alarm in the hallway. The other monitor was clenched in her hand and she could hear the faint, scratchy drone of Japanese cartoons.

  “This is one of your worst ideas yet, young lady,” said Harriet. “Worse than really, anything I can think of at the moment. You’re usually so sensible.”

  “If I’d known why you called me here,” said Esther, looking as angry as Wallis had ever seen her look. “I’m not staying here,” she said, dramatically rolling her r’s and rising from her chair, gathering her things.

  Wallis slammed her palm down on the table so hard her fingers went numb for just a moment. The solid oak table shook for a moment and the sound echoed through the wood.

  “Shut the fuck up, both of you,” she screamed. “Enough of your goddamn rules. Enough. Enough of how things ought to be. They took my son and you both are going to help me figure out what to do next or so help me, God, I will start shooting someone.” Wallis leaned over the table menacingly at her mother and Esther. “I don’t really care anymore,” she hissed, “and your age or your relationship to me will mean nothing. They took my son,” she said, pounding again on the table.

  There were tears in her eyes as she said the last words slowly, “and Alice is already dead. I will not wait for any of you to figure out what the hell is protocol. From now on, I’m your goddamn protocol.”

  Esther slowly sat back down and both women kept on mumbling at a low hum.

  Wallis straightened up and took in a deep breath.

  “Ned wants answers and we will give those to him. Some of them at least. Enough not to give him more nightmares.” Harriet looked like she wanted to say something but Wallis held up her hand. “I’ll let you know when you can dive in and it better be with a good idea, so you might want to be thinking about that while you’re sitting there.”

  “Walter would be proud of you,” said Harriet.

  Esther drew her mouth into a pucker and narrowed her eyes. “How unfortunate that it’s a dead man and not her mother right in front of her.” Esther looked at Wallis and leaned over the table, pleading, “I am proud of you,” she said, putting a hand to her chest, “every day.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” said Harriet, “and it’s not a contest,” she said, looking hurt.

  “Oh. My. God,” said Wallis, putting her face in her hands for a moment. She shook her head in exasperation. “It’s like a disease for you people.”

  “What people?” asked Esther.

  “All of you,” said Wallis. “Every last one of you. You can’t let anything go long enough to look
for a solution. You’d rather keep score no matter what.”

  The front door flew open, the large brass handle banging hard against the wall as Norman ran into the room, wild-eyed. “Where’s Ned?” he yelled, looking at each of the women in the room.

  “It’s okay, he’s in our room,” said Wallis.

  Norman ran out of the room and they listened to the sound of his footsteps leaping up the stairs, skipping steps. Moments later they could hear him hurrying back down the room. Harriet and Esther exchanged glances. “Now you decide to be quiet,” said Wallis. “Great.”

  Norman came running back into the room. He was still wearing a suit, his tie loosened but he looked as if he was headed to court except for the look of panic that was still on his face.

  “What the hell happened? Somebody had better start talking?”

  Father Donald came through the open front door and looked around for a moment at everyone in the dining room. He was dressed in his rabat and collar and looked far more relaxed than anyone else. “You’re in the dining room. Huh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use this room before. Hello Esther, Harriet, good to see you again.”

  “Not this time, Donald,” said Wallis. “We’re not doing the distraction thing. If that’s all you got, go on home.”

  “Alright, I can see there’s already an Indian chief at this meeting,” he said, taking a chair.

  “You know the Watcher outside must be buzzing about all of this,” said Harriet, looking over her shoulder.

  “There’s only one item on our agenda, today,” said Wallis, holding up one finger, “and that’s all we’re going to focus on, no matter what. How do we get them to leave us all the hell alone. I don’t care about your other topics, not today, maybe never again.”

  “Hold on, hold on,” said Norman, holding up his hands. “I’m going to need a few other answers first before we move on to actually taking any kind of action. What happened today? I was in court and a deputy comes up to me to tell me he’s heard over the radio that my son was kidnapped.” His voice started to rise.