Chapter 35
June 1997
“Congratulations!”
It wasn’t a specific person who offered the heartfelt cheer but a crowd of voices speaking as one. The pure embarrassment that Jake felt was nothing compared to the redness of Sara’s face.
They had finally let their mothers in on their engagement after five and a half months of nervous waiting, and they were surprised to find Rachel and Ms. Beverly ecstatic. It had only been a few hours, and here they were at the evening service with Ms. Beverly announcing to the entire congregation that Jake intended to make Sara his wife. He remained seated in his pew and simply smiled as others patted him on the back and hugged Sara from behind. Being at the center of attention felt good; but, at the same time, he wished he could hide beneath the pew. Stan and Phil seemed to be reading his mind as they cackled to themselves, Stan giving a sarcastic wink with his fingers pointed as if saying, “Good job, son.”
“We all knew it was comin’,” Percy said after the service.
“Don’t go doing anything I wouldn’t do, now,” Riley the cabbie warned.
“May God bless the union of two wonderful people,” Pastor Woolsey offered with a hug for them both.
Jake and Sara retreated to the outside deck once the storm of happy people died down and the service ended.
“I’m going to kill my mother,” Sara said with a smile.
Jake shrugged. “At least it’s over. Everyone knows or will know by morning, and we’ll be old news before you know it.”
“You actually believe that?”
“Not one bit.”
She laughed as he wrapped his arms around her.
“You can’t back out now, you know?” she said playfully.
“And why is that?”
“Because you’d disappoint all of Anderson.”
“I can move away.”
“I’d follow.”
“With your angry hordes behind you?”
“With Stan and Phil behind me. They’d kick the crap out of you.”
“Oh, man. I guess I’m stuck with you then.”
Without warning, she thrust an elbow back and knocked the air from his lungs. He withdrew, clutching his stomach as Sara turned to face him with a playful glare. Unexpected laughter from around the corner heralded Stan and Phil’s approach.
“You messin’ with our girl?” Stan threatened in his best Brooklyn accent while Phil simply posed, flashing his developing muscles.
Jake straightened himself but then buckled over once more, smiling and asking his friends for a moment with an uplifted index finger. This, of course, brought about an uproar of laughter.
“Ah, here you are,” exclaimed a familiar voice.
“Hey, Dad,” Stan said as Phil and Sara waved.
Stanley Sr. stared at the struggling but smiling Jake.
“Did you hit him?” he asked Stan.
“Nope, he got put in his place by the missus.”
Stanley Sr. laughed and then offered a nod of approval. “Okay, good then. Get use to those, boy. I get at least one a week.”
“Yes, sir,” Jake said after a long drawn-out breath.
“I thought I’d wait for Melba and the others to calm down before approaching the two of you. You’ve always been like a daughter to me, Sara. And Jake, you’re the son I’ve always wanted.”
“Hey!” said Stan.
Stanley Sr. laughed and offered Jake a hand. “I just wanted to say congratulations apart from the rest. I’m proud of you both and couldn’t be more excited to see what your future brings.”
Jake accepted the handshake and Sara did the same. Stan attempted to accept a third but his father waved him off. Stanly Sr. looked from Stan to Phil, and then his lips widened into a sly smile.
“So when are the two of you making an announcement?”
“Get stuffed,” was all Stan offered.
Stanley Sr. invited them all to the Cromwell house for a celebration supper. Though Sara declined due to homework, Jake and Phil accepted.
“Should I walk you home?” Jake asked her.
Sara shrugged. “We live in Anderson, Jake. I’ll be fine. Go have fun.”
She kissed him on the cheek and vanished down the street. He missed her already.
Jake, Phil, and the Cromwells strolled down a quiet street heading toward Stan’s house, talking and laughing while their bellies groaned, eagerly anticipating Melba’s terrific cooking. The stars were bright, and a cool breeze made the walk nice, but Jake liked the crickets best of all. He loved nights like this. The comfort was interrupted, however, by a crackle over Stanley Sr.’s radio.
“This is Cromwell,” he said into the receiver.
“There’s been a report, sir,” Arthur Harris replied nervously. “Both the Willingham’s home and their deli were robbed. Carl Willingham found his back door broken into and his wife’s jewelry stolen, and then a side window of the deli was shattered. The register was on the floor and the money gone. The robberies apparently happened while they were at church.”
Jake’s stomach dropped. There wasn’t much crime in Anderson, and to have two thefts in one night was unheard of, even if the two locations were side-by-side. Making Jake even more nervous was the fact that the Willingham’s place was only two blocks from the road they were currently walking down.
Stanley Sr. seemed surprised as well and, after a moment’s hesitation, spoke into the radio. “Any sign of who’s done it?”
“No sir, though Carl Willingham says his neighbor saw a man leaving the premise, but nothing distinguishing. He was dressed head to toe, ready for—just a moment, sir.” The radio went quiet for a full minute before Arthur’s voice returned. “Sir, we just received a call from Thomas Patterson over on Seventh and Elm. He said someone broke into his home and held him at gunpoint. He got away with Patterson’s wallet, watch, and wedding ring not five minutes ago. The culprit seems to be heading north.”
Stanley Sr. took off in a sprint, startling the three teenagers and his wife.
“Get home!” he shouted over his shoulder.
“Oh, my God,” Phil said and Jake repeated him.
“Did you guys hear that?” Stan asked rhetorically.
“It’ll be alright, boys,” Melba said nervously. “We’re south of the Willingham’s place, but let’s get to the house just in case.”
The four of them raced to the Cromwell’s home but were shocked to find the front door kicked in. Stan raced inside, ignoring his mother’s protests, but returned quickly.
“No one’s here,” he shouted angrily. “They’re gone.”
Melba and Stan entered the house while Jake and Phil waited on the porch. Jake stared in the direction that Sara had been walking until Phil patted him on the back.
“She’d be home by now,” he said quietly. “She’s fine.”
“I know,” Jake answered. “She usually studies at the library, and everyone knows Ms. Beverly doesn’t keep money there.”
“I doubt a criminal would wanna steal books. And Ms. Beverly would be with her, right?”
“Probably, but they’re only a block from Thomas Patterson.”
It wasn’t long before they heard the siren of Stanley Sr.’s police cruiser. He ran a stop sign and skidded to a halt in front of the house. Jake had never heard the man curse in his life but Stanley Sr. was cursing now. He bounded up the stairs and vanished into his own violated home. Jake and Phil sat on the porch swing, unsure of what else to do, until Stan joined them. He was shaking.
“They took it,” he said quietly. “They took the gun Dad gave me.”
He didn’t have to say what the rest of them were thinking; Stan’s gun had been used to rob Thomas Patterson.
“Was it loaded?” Phil asked.
“They took the bullets, too. I should have separated them. I shouldn’t have made it so easy.”
The boys listened to the radio updates that echoed through the house. They could hear Arthur Harris informing Stanley Sr. that som
eone else had been held at gunpoint, though none caught the victim’s name. Another business was broken into as well, but it seemed that whoever was doing it had vanished.
“They’ll need help,” Stan finally said, perking up a bit. “Dad and Arthur I mean. They can’t search the whole town alone, and we’re all old enough now. We need to do our part to help out. I’m not saying we hunt the guy down or anything, but we should be keeping an eye out or something. We can maybe each pick a street to patrol.”
What Stan said made sense. They could volunteer, and being that Jake would be seventeen in a few months he felt a responsibility to do so. He nodded and Phil did the same.
“Okay,” Stan said, sounding more nervous than he was letting on. “I’ll talk to Dad and see what we can do.”
Stan exited the house a moment later, red-faced, and motioned for them not to speak. Melba and Stanley Sr. soon followed. Stanley Sr. kissed his wife and assured the boys that everything was going to be alright. Then he got back into the cruiser and sped away. Melba went back inside and, when her footsteps faded away, Stan leaned in and began to whisper.
“According to Arthur, there’s only one man. He’s tall, black, and middle-aged. Being that we don’t have too many black guys around, he shouldn’t be too hard to find. Dad and Arthur think he’s hiding in the woods around Anderson, so that’s where we’ll go. We know those trees better than anyone.”
“Your dad wants us to go with him?” Phil asked, but Stan shook his head.
“We’re not going with him, no, but we’re going to help look in other areas. There’s a better chance of finding the guy that way.”
“What about your mom?” Jake asked, knowing she’d be against their going into a forest with an armed man inside.
“Dad doesn’t want Mom to know, so I’ll tell her I’m driving you to Sara’s. Having just found out about your engagement, I think she’ll buy that.”
“Can we really check on Sara?” Jake asked hopefully.
“No, she’ll be fine. We can’t waste time or the guy might get away.”
There was no hiding Jake’s disappointment as Stan went to lie to his mother. He wished Sara was with him; or, more appropriately, that he was with her, safe at the library. He loved her more than life, and when this was all over he was going to give her the biggest kiss he had ever given. He clung to this thought as Stan returned and they rushed toward his car.
“To the woods gentlemen,” Stan said in a voice similar to his father’s.
“Let’s not get shot,” Phil offered dryly.
Cicada Song Page 36