Bunny Elder Adventure Series: Four Complete Novels: Hollow, Vain Pursuits, Seadrift, ...and Something Blue

by J. B. Hawker

  He had returned in his mind to his childhood, when a series of step-fathers and boyfriends of his mother used him for their own amusement. Some had merely beaten and tormented him, but many of them had molested him in horrible ways.

  Even as he grew older, other men used him in a similar manner.

  Most recently, there was Bob Miller who had been secretly visiting him in the night for months, now.

  Walter thought he would be safe in the church, but he was wrong.

  It was always the same.

  Always, there was the pretense of caring about him, but it inevitably ended with urgent whispers of, “Don’t you tell, Walter. This is our special secret, Walter. If you tell, I will have to hurt you, Walter. You made me do this, Walter.”

  Coming back to himself, he realized Pastor Elder had rearranged his own clothing and was preparing to leave.

  Walter fumbled to cover himself.

  Turning the key in the ignition, the pastor spoke to Walter.

  “This is our special secret, Walter. It is part of the continuing counseling you need. This was a loving experience, pure and wholesome. Remember, you asked for this, Walter. Naturally, this is confidential counseling. Don’t tell anyone, Walter.”

  Reaching for his shirt, Walter’s hand brushed something hard and cold under the car seat.

  He pulled it out and saw it was a large pipe wrench.

  He watched his hand as it swung the wrench.

  He saw the wrench hit the larger man’s head.

  He stared at it as the hand clutching the steel swung again, and heard the crunch of bone and saw blood splattering the windshield of the pastor’s nice car.

  He watched and listened until he couldn’t recognize the pastor, anymore. Then his hand dropped the bloody tool.

  Walter felt sick.

  He climbed out of the car and vomited down the face of the cliff, then stood there, staring off into space.

  After many moments, he shook himself, grabbed his shirt from the car and shuffled toward the road.

  A change in the tone of the idling car engine made him pause and look back. He stood there a few moments, thinking, before returning to the car.

  Opening the driver’s door, he lowered the window, shut the door, reached in, put the car into gear and leaped back, as it shot off the cliff and down into the deep canyon below.

  Walter watched as the pastor’s nice car burst into flames.

  He stood there a few moments watching it burn, before starting the long trek back to town.

  As he walked, he regretted being sick. Those hamburgers would have kept him from getting hungry on the long walk home.

  That walk had taken place in the summer heat.

  Walter walked now on a chilly autumn evening, and once again, in spite of his memories, he had the same overriding thought.

  He wondered what he would have for dinner that night.

  Chapter 22

  Send your angel after them and let them be like straw in the wind.–Psalm 35:5.

  When Max Banks turned off the highway at the south end of town and approached Main Street, he met with a roadblock and detour signs.

  “What the f..?”

  He began to swear, and then stopped when he heard shouts, car horns and snatches of music coming from behind the barrier.

  “The Homecoming parade! I forgot. Oh man, it’s so lucky I didn’t miss it.”

  Banks quickly parked the car, grabbed his camera from the storage compartment and jogged toward all the commotion.

  Tonight was the high school’s homecoming football game, one of the biggest events of the year in Clark’s Hallow.

  The Clarion-Review would cover the game and parade with a special pictorial section.

  If Max had not returned in time, it would have been a disaster for the paper. He had already sold the advertising for the edition.

  “That waitress was sweet, but she wasn’t worth missing Homecoming. What was I thinking?”

  As Max wandered along the parade route, snapping photos of the convertibles packed with cheerleaders and pickup truckloads of football players shouting and waving to their friends and relatives, he reflected on the night before.

  It was all too easy to maneuver the barmaid into inviting him home with her.

  Maybe the lack of a challenge was the reason the night seemed so flat.

  She had a young, supple body that performed with enthusiasm and skill. As a cardio workout, the night was a great success.

  That morning, when he awoke in the rumpled bed with her arm flung across his chest, he was surprised to feel a spasm of revulsion. He carefully slipped out of bed and left without waking the woman.

  Instead of his usual feeling of elation at having “scored," he felt empty and sad.

  The feeling still clung to him. He did not understand it.

  The pep band, playing “Louie, Louie," very loudly and off-key, rode by on a flatbed semi.

  Max got a few good shots of them and then walked back to his car. He would get the rest of the copy he needed that night at the game.

  

  Bunny pulled her ticket from her handbag while crunching across the gravel parking area toward the high school football field.

  It was fortunate Max had left their complimentary press passes on his desk when he disappeared. The paper could not afford to neglect coverage of this game and the special half-time show.

  As long as Bunny worked for the Clarion-Review, she would strive for its success. She couldn’t do much about photographs, but she could provide interviews and colorful copy.

  Not knowing where Max was, it was the best she could do.

  Stepping onto the dusty track, Bunny savored the familiar atmosphere.

  High school nighttime football games are uniquely American.

  In the thirty years since she last approached these bleachers, it seemed nothing had changed.

  The sounds of friends shouting greetings, the marching band tuning up and the piping voices of excited children running on the sidelines were as they had always been.

  Even the rich aroma of hot dogs and popcorn from the Snack Shack mingling with fresh-cut grass and sweaty sports equipment, was familiar.

  What took Bunny back to her own school days, most of all, was the crisp night air, so charged with teenage hormones it tingled on one’s skin like electricity.

  If more people knew about these Friday night fountains of youth thriving in small communities every fall, the bleacher seats would be the hottest tickets around.

  Standing under the velvety black sky, Bunny felt sixteen years old and was sure most of the adults attending shared her feelings.

  Bunny chatted with a few people and took some notes for her articles then found a seat high up in the stands, just in front of the announcer’s booth.

  From here, she could see everything, as well as have a much-appreciated backrest. She might be feeling like a teenager in her heart, but her body would never endure being perched on a splintery wooden bench for three hours or more.

  With that in mind, she had brought a nice thick quilt to sit on.

  Bunny, a high school cheerleader of old, looked down to see the current squad scatter and coalesce in various combinations as they self-importantly planned their evening’s performance.

  Each of these girls knew in her heart the football game existed merely as a backdrop for her own good looks and enthusiasm. Bunny had been the same at that age and felt a bubble of joy rise inside her to see how much some things never change.

  She was almost laughing by the time she caught sight of Max taking photos of the pre-game warm-up on the field.

  Seeing him there caused long-forgotten memories to spring into Bunny’s mind.

  Max and Bunny had “gone steady” all through high school.

  He was the quarterback and captain of the football team.

  One memorable Homecoming Game they were the King and Queen of the night.

  It was a thrilling time.

  Emotions ar
e so overwhelming in one’s teen years, everything following can seem like an anticlimax. Perhaps this was why Bunny’s feelings for Max were so hard to overcome.

  Bunny knew he was not good for her; nevertheless being with Max gave her a window into her Technicolor youth, now her life’s colors had faded.

  It was a relief to see him here covering the game.

  She had not been sure what to think about his cryptic note and vanishing act.

  Beneath the bleachers, Walter Bjorglund was lurking and listening. He was becoming more frantic with each passing day, as he failed to find an injustice to avenge.

  If God were disappointed in him, he might take away his special powers. Just in case, Walter was wearing his lucky shirt every day, washing it each night before bed.

  He didn’t suppose there would be any trouble here at the big game tonight, but he liked to watch it, and there just might be something to punish after the festivities, with all these people together in one place.

  He would keep a lookout, just in case.

  Max framed a shot of the French horn player adjusting his uniform, as the band prepared to get things started by playing the Star-Spangled Banner.

  A few moments before, the home team had come charging onto the field through a gauntlet of shaking pompoms.

  The roar of the crowd gave Max a mental flashback to the many times he led a similar assault on his home field. He had felt like a gladiator or a triumphant general leading his team between Bunny and her cheerleading squad. No matter who won the game, that moment was sheer glory.

  Max had so many great memories of those years and it seemed Bunny was in each one. He had taken it for granted she would always be there when he wanted or needed her.

  She stayed beside him longer than he had any right to expect, when you consider the way he treated her.

  Along with nostalgia, Max was beginning to feel unaccustomed remorse.

  While the band played the national anthem, Banks scanned the crowd through his viewfinder, looking for a good shot.

  He caught sight of Bunny beneath the announcer’s booth. He had not expected to see her this evening.

  Sitting beside the parents of one of the local star athletes, Bunny shared in the excitement of the evening.

  Watching the almost-full moon rise behind the visitors’ bleachers, the clear yellow-orange orb surrounded by velvet black sky, she was reminded of the unblinking eye of an over-sized black cat.

  Smiling at her overwrought imagination, she began to focus on the events on the field.

  The home team won the toss. Having chosen to receive the kick-off, they were struggling to drive the ball up the field.

  The cheerleaders were whipping up the fans.

  The pep band adding to the din almost drowned out the announcer’s voice blaring from the nearby loudspeaker.

  Despite her enjoyment of the game and the general atmosphere, the noise began to give Bunny a headache.

  She decided to visit the Snack Shack for a cup of cocoa and then to try to find a slightly quieter location for the rest of the game.

  Bunny definitely did not want to leave before the half-time events. They would be the highlight of the evening for her.

  The darkness made negotiating the bleacher steps difficult, so Bunny was watching her feet to keep from taking a misstep on her way down, when she bumped into someone who was climbing up.

  “Excuse me! I’m so sorry,” she stammered, while trying to keep her balance without dropping her quilt.

  “It was my fault, entirely, Darlin’,” Max drawled.

  His arms encircled Bunny to keep her from falling. They also prevented her from running on down the steps, as she wanted to do, as soon as she realized who held her.

  “Max, how are you?”

  “Just fine. I’m surprised to find you here tonight, though.”

  “Why do you say that? I have always loved high school football games, especially Homecoming with the marching band and all. And I thought I’d better take a few notes, just in case you didn’t make it back from wherever you were in time to cover the game.”

  Bunny realized she was babbling, but couldn’t seem to control herself.

  “So where the heck were you, anyway?” she said.

  “Did you miss me, then?” Max purred down at her with a grin.

  “Of course, I did!” she snapped.

  “You are my employer, remember? You left me to handle everything, with no instructions, and did not even say how long you were going to be gone. I know we aren’t getting along too well, but your disappearing act was completely unfair.”

  “You’re right, Hun, but let’s go someplace a bit quieter, where we can talk this out. Come on.”

  Max grabbed her hand and led her down the steps and around the end of the bleachers to a grassy patch between the stands and the restrooms.

  He continued to hold her hand as he stood looking at her.

  It made Bunny uncomfortable. She couldn’t even guess what he was thinking.

  While the crowds above them stomped and cheered for a hard-fought first down, Max pulled Bunny close and kissed her gently. Taking her face between his hands, he looked at her in that bemused fashion and kissed her again, more deeply.

  It was so unexpected, and admittedly enjoyable, it took Bunny a few moments to react.

  When she began to pull away, Max released her with a smile and a rueful shake of his head.

  “There’s something magical here tonight, do you feel it, Hunny? Ever since I approached the lighted field tonight I have been experiencing flashbacks to our own high school years....all those eons ago.”

  “Yes, I’ve felt nostalgic, too. Those were pretty special times, at least in retrospect,” Bunny replied.

  “It would be pretty sad to think all our happiest, most exciting days were over before we’d reached adulthood. Surely our post-adolescent years aren’t just marking time waiting to die,” Max said.

  “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He went on, as though Bunny hadn’t spoken.

  “And yet, tonight, I can’t seem to remember anything to rival the happiness I had back then, with you.”

  “Do you remember when we were juniors and the team played that away game at Esparto? You forgot your purse after the game, and your mom loaned us her car the next morning to drive all that way to see if the bag could possibly still be on the bleachers, where all you cheerleaders piled your coats. Even though we never expected to find it, the drive was a special adventure. The sky was overcast, I remember, it was a misty grey/brown sort of day, just about this time of year. I had never driven so far before. Remember how surprised and thrilled we were to find your purse, undisturbed, right where you left it? That sure wouldn’t happen nowadays.”

  “I do remember. That day was special for me, too. But, we have both had lots of special times since then, I’m sure.”

  “Oh sure, but nothing has ever been so fresh, or as intense as it was back then. Being with you again comes close, though. Why can’t you put your precious Baptist scruples aside and just accept the happiness we can have?”

  “Oh Max, please don’t start, again. You know how I feel about you, but my relationship with God is the most important thing in my life. Since you won’t accept that, there’s no way for us to have any kind of life together.”

  Bunny turned to go back to the stands, but Max grabbed her arm, causing her to drop the blanket.

  When she struggled to get free, he shook her a bit and shouted.

  “Knock it off, Bunny. You don’t have to be like this. It makes no sense. Think about what you are throwing away!”

  Bunny pulled out of his grasp and ran, stumbling, back to the lights.

  She heard Max behind her, cursing and muttering, as he stormed off in the other direction.

  She stood for a moment, catching her breath, and then found a seat near the end of the bottom row where she could sit to watch the half-time show before going home.

  She didn’
t really care about the show any longer, but she needed time to compose herself and was determined not to let Max’s behavior change her plans.

  Beneath the stands, not far from Bunny, Walter Bjorglund stood holding her dropped quilt with a look of elation on his upturned face.

  He saw the end of the quarrel and was thanking God for giving him his next assignment.

  Walter felt very protective toward Bunny, ever since he deprived her of her husband. It was just like God to allow him to make amends by protecting her, now, from the bullying Banks.

  Walter didn’t know what the trouble was between them, but he saw enough to know Mrs. Elder was frightened of the newspaper editor. That was all he needed.

  He was an avenging angel, once again.

  Robb Simpson turned from the Snack Shack, carefully balancing two hot dogs and coffee. He didn’t want to spill the food on his way back to Nathan in the stands.

  Robb was going to miss his new friend, but this working vacation was over and he must return to his job in Southern California in the morning.

  The two men were discussing the possibility of Nathan coming down for a Thanksgiving visit.

  What Robb supposed would be a few days of casual pleasure was becoming something more important to them both.

  Robb was musing on his new relationship when he noticed a man standing under the bleachers.

  He had seen the fellow around town and assumed he was at least mildly mentally retarded.

  Right now, the poor sap was happily hugging a patchwork quilt to himself, like a small child freshly reunited with a treasured toy.

  “You just never know what makes some people tick,” Simpson thought as he hurried back to Nathan with the food.

  

  In the dilapidated house by the cemetery, the occasional snatch of band music and roars from the crowd were annoying intrusions to Dinks Dodd as he packed his bags.

  Dinks did not share Bunny’s nostalgia for high school football games.

  His teen years had been miserable and he seldom thought about them. Max Banks, Bunny Davis and the rest of the popular crowd had no time for Dinks, back then.