by Donna Cain
They were still fairly close to the exit and people were starting to notice Agnes. He put his arm lightly on her back and led her a little way over to a more private area. It didn’t matter, though. By then she was almost hysterical.
“You tell me right now, Don! You tell me where my husband is! I swear, Don, I swear! You tell me right now, where’s my Claymont?” She was looking at him through dark brown eyes swimming in tears. Shasta was trying to blink back tears; her eyes were wide as well.
“Agnes, Honey, he’s gone. There was an accident at the...”
“NO, NO, NO!” She collapsed pulling Shasta with her to the ground. The two women just sat on the blacktop holding each other as he tried to finish telling them the rest of what had become of Claymont.
“Now, Agnes, listen Hon. He’s at peace. It was a brain hemorrhage they think. It happened real quick. He didn’t have any pain at all, Honey. It was over fast, Agnes.” He looked at the teen holding onto Agnes and thought of his friend Bill. “Shasta, are you okay?” He made a mental note to call Shasta’s dad soon.
“Y, yeah, I think,” Shasta managed, but she was chalk white, and the sheriff knew she was thinking about how Darren was going to take the news. The two kids had been friends since they were little.
“If you’re up for it, I think Darren could use a friend when he hears about this. Can you stick around?”
“Oh, Darren!” Agnes exclaimed. “He’s going to be devastated. Shasta, you have to stay. Please stay and help him. He’s going to really need you now, Sweetie.”
The thought of her child seemed to give Agnes the strength to stand up and dust herself off. The shock was settling in, and her maternal instincts were now in control.
“Now listen, you two,” she said. “That boy has had a big night. He’s going to come out of that stadium on cloud nine and this news is going to crush him. We’ve got to stay strong,” she said, her voice wavering, “for Darren.”
“I’ll tell him, Agnes,” Sheriff Buchanon said while placing his hand on her shoulder. “It might come easier for him that way. You two can get in the back of the squad car, and I’ll put Darren in front with me. That way, no one will overhear.” He was looking around at the curious stares and could tell that there was already a murmur going around.
“Let’s get you two in now to avoid any prying eyes.” He led them over to his car and helped them gently in. Agnes was quietly crying, but he was watching Shasta. The shocked look she wore worried him more than Agnes’ weeping. “Shasta, want me to call your dad and tell him what’s going on? I think I’ll have a few more minutes before Darren comes out.”
“No thanks,” she answered. “He’ll hear soon enough. I’ll call him after we see if Darren’s okay.” Clearly, her only thoughts right now were on her friend. Sheriff Buchanon was glad she was there, but hoped it wouldn’t be too hard on the girl.
Agnes, dreading her only child’s heart about to break, was moaning in the back seat. Her heart was broken as well, but Darren was her focus now.
A few of the football players were starting to come through the exit, so the sheriff told the women to stay in the car as he climbed out of the cruiser to wait. The boys were all on that endorphin high that comes after a big win. They were coming through the exit to cheers and applause by the waiting spectators and families. Sheriff saw the top of Darren’s head, and his stomach rolled over.
The boy was scanning the crowd. He was looking for his parents – looking for Claymont. Sheriff Buchanon raised his arm and tried to grab Darren’s attention. Finally, Darren looked his way, and the sheriff motioned him over. He could see the boys smile fade and an anxious look come over his face. Sheriff Buchanon walked forward to meet him and immediately took his arm.
“Hey, Bud. I’ve got your mom with me. She’s okay, but we need to have a talk, okay? Let’s get in my car.”
He led Darren over to the passenger side and opened the door for him. Darren looked inside at his mother’s face and then at Shasta. Looking back at the sheriff he asked, “Where’s Dad? Is it my Dad, Sheriff?”
“I’m afraid so, Darren. Hop in the car, Son.”
As Darren lowered himself into the cruiser, Sheriff Buchanon rushed to the other side and hopped into the driver’s seat. When he was all the way in, with the door shut behind him, he looked at the boy. Darren’s head was bowed and a look of grief was on his face before the sheriff could confirm his suspicions. He didn’t cry; he just sat there as Sheriff Buchanon relayed the information. Agnes and Shasta listened quietly, since they hadn’t had a chance to hear all of the details yet. When he was finished, Sheriff Buchanon put a strong hand on Darren’s shoulder and said, “I want you to know something, Son. Your dad was a fine man. He was an upstanding, intelligent man of fine character. I respected him, Darren. The whole town did. You should be proud of him. I know for a fact he was damn proud of you.”
Tears rolled down Darren’s cheeks, and Don Buchanon pulled the boy into a tight embrace. “You get it out, Son. It’s okay. It will all be okay. It’s going to hurt a while. But you’ll get through it, you and your mom. You’ll get through.”
The sheriff could hear soft crying from the back seat and decided to get them home. He released Darren and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to drive you all home now. Don’t worry about your cars. I’ll have Rachel dispatch some deputies over to get them to you. Just leave me your keys and we’ll take care of the rest. Shasta, I’ll let your dad know what’s going on. If you need us to do anything, anything at all, you don’t hesitate. Okay, Agnes, Darren, I mean it.”
He saw the nods from the rear view mirror and the seat beside him and started the cruiser. They drove in silence the five miles back to Meadowview Acres. Sheriff Buchanon felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t know why this had to happen to such a nice family. It just didn’t seem fair.
When they got to the front of the Jackson’s home, he helped Agnes out of the backseat and walked her up to the front door. He saw Shasta holding onto Darren and felt good enough about the situation to leave. He told Agnes he would be in touch the next day with the autopsy results and headed back to his car.
He called Bill Port on the way to the hospital and gave him a rundown of the events. Bill was as upset about the loss of Claymont as Don was but also concerned for Shasta. Don told him that she seemed fine, just sad. She was doing Darren some good by being there – Agnes too. Bill said that he would pick her truck up from the high school and give her a call after a little time had passed.
Walking to the morgue while being assaulted by the glare of the florescent bulbs, Don Buchanon was counting his blessings. He was thankful for his wife and his kids. He was thankful for his friends and neighbors. He made a mental note to make a doctor’s appointment and get checked out. It’d been too long since his last checkup.
Deputy Clay was already sitting in the waiting room when he reached the morgue. “Hey, Mike. What’s the word?”
The deputy looked exhausted. His eyes were glazed over and his whole body seemed to droop. He looked at Sheriff Buchanon with blood-shot eyes and said, “Hi, Sheriff. The ambulance just brought him in about an hour ago. Doc says he’ll do the autopsy in the mornin’. Said there’s a lot of blood loss, though. More than usual with a brain hemorrhage. Said he’ll be done around noon tomorrow, and he’ll give ya a call then.”
“That’s fine, Mike. I got the Jackson family home. It’s going to be rough for them for a while. For the whole town, I’d imagine. Claymont was a popular guy.”
“Yep, this one’s tough alright,” Deputy Clay responded. “Listen, I’m not feeling too good. I think we’ve got all the information the Doc’s going to give us tonight. You mind if I go on home?”
“No, go on. You look like hell, Mike. You okay?” Alarm bells were sounding in Sheriff Buchanon’s head. He’d had enough for one night.
“I’ll be alright, just got a wicked headache. I thought I was going to faint while I’s drivin’ those kids home. Even had a nose bleed and started
seein’ spots and such. I was a lot better driving over here, though. Soon’s they got outta my cruiser, I started feelin’ better. I’m just goin’ home and get some sleep. I’ll see ya tomorrow at the station.”
“That’s fine, Michael. You feel better now,” he said as he watched his deputy shuffle down the florescent hallway. He looked small in the light.
Sheriff Buchanon felt unsettled about something but couldn’t quite place what. Something Deputy Clay had said sounded familiar. It had been a long night. He knew tomorrow would be longer still, so he decided to go home. All of the sudden he needed to see Margy, Jeff and Jennifer.
The nagging feeling stayed with him all the way home. Pulling into his driveway, a thought occurred to him. He had experienced terrible head pain at the construction site. He remembered seeing flashing lights and feeling like his head was going to split open. Deputy Clay had said that he, too, had a headache at the site. He mentioned seeing spots. Claymont Jackson was at the site and died of what surely was a brain hemorrhage. Or was it? Was there more to this than a medical condition? Then he remembered how sick the kids had been. Hunter couldn’t stop dry heaving, and Bug was all sweaty and weak. Eli had said he had a headache, too. Was there a connection?
Walking into his house that night, Sheriff Buchanon couldn’t help but worry. What had happened to Claymont Jackson? Was the same thing going to happen to Deputy Clay – to Eli – to him?
CHAPTER 13
Eli & Hunter
The ride back to Meadowview Acres took less than a few minutes, but it was hell inside of Deputy Clay’s squad car. Bug sat up front with the deputy while Eli and Hunter occupied the back seat with the shiny silver box wedged between them.
Deputy Clay was having a tough time driving while managing a nose bleed. He was worried about Bug beside him; she was white and clammy and Michael was pretty sure that she had fainted once during the drive. In the back seat, Hunter’s stomach was heaving the entire drive. Eli seemed the least affected, but still had a very bad headache.
Deputy Clay parked on the street in front of Bug’s house and helped Bug up to the door. Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton met them there with looks of concern and puzzlement. Mrs. Andrews was there as well. The deputy spoke with them about the matter while still containing his nose bleed. Eventually, Mrs. Hamilton disappeared from the doorway with Bug, and Mr. Hamilton and Mrs. Andrews continued speaking with Deputy Clay.
Like two shell shocked victims, Hunter and Eli emerged from the car. Their bodies were exhausted and in pain. Their minds were blown with the events that had unfolded, and they were anxious about what was to come next. Eli was wearing the backpack while Hunter carried the box.
“Well, what do we do now?” Hunter managed to ask between acidic burps.
“Man, I just want to go home. This night has been hell, this whole day, really,” Eli responded while rubbing his temples.
“No, Eli. What are we going to do now with this?” He gestured to the box dangling from its handle.
“Oh. Sorry. Let’s just store it somewhere for a couple of days until things calm down. I think it’s going to be a little hectic for a while with Mr. Jackson and all.”
“That’s fine with me,” Hunter replied. “I just want to dump this thing somewhere and go to bed. I feel like crap.”
“Where can we stash it so no one will find it and start asking questions? We don’t need anyone nosing around – mainly Heather.”
“Lemme think,” said Hunter. “Got it, the storage shed behind my house. I’ll take it there right now.”
“Perfect. We’ll get it in a couple of days and see what the heck’s in that thing. ‘Til then, I’m out of here. Take it easy, Buddy. And Hunter?”
Hunter stopped walking and turned back toward his friend.
“Thanks for going with me.” He gave Hunter a sideways grin and walked into his house.
Heather was on him at once. “Eli! You’re okay! What happened? I saw the police car bring you home! Are you in trouble?”
Before he could answer her, his mother rounded the corner of the kitchen and made a beeline for him. Squashing him with a huge hug she said, “Oh Eli! I’m so sorry for what you had to go through tonight. Are you okay, Honey?” She let go of him and stood back to take inventory of her son, looking him head to toe for injuries and, finally, taking in his face.
“Yeah, Mom. I’m alright, just tired is all.” He realized as he said it that he wasn’t just tired, he was bone tired. He was exhausted – mentally and physically. He slumped down into the chair beside him.
“Well I’ve just come from speaking to Deputy Clay over at the Hamilton’s. He wanted us to know everything that you guys witnessed at the construction site. I really hate that this happened, Eli. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, Mom. Really, I’m fine. It’s just sad, and I’m super tired.” I’ve been hanging around Bug too long. That kid says “super” in every sentence. He gave his Mom a tired smile, and she couldn’t help going over and hugging him once again.
“Wait,” said Heather. “Who died then? I thought it was some kids. Were they with you and Hunter, Eli? Who was it? Oh no, was it one of Jake’s friends? I better call him! He’s going to need me to be there!” She was punching at her cell phone when Mrs. Andrews snatched it out of her hand and plopped it onto the kitchen counter.
“No, Heather!” She said exasperatedly. “This has absolutely nothing to do with Jake. Mr. Jackson is the person who died tonight, and your brother and Hunter found him. You should be thinking of the Jackson family right now, and your brother, not your ridiculous boyfriend.”
Heather glared at her mother. She knew her mom didn’t understand how much in love she and Jake were. She didn’t have a clue about the depth of Jake’s feelings for her. Heather didn’t know what her mom meant when she said that she shouldn’t be thinking of Jake right then. She thought of Jake constantly. Heather knew her mother just didn’t get it. She swiped her phone off the kitchen counter and spat, “Just because Dad left you, you don’t want me to have a boyfriend! You’re jealous because Jake and I are in love and nobody loves you anymore!”
She turned sharply with her chestnut curls flying out behind her and stormed from the kitchen. A moment later they heard the door to her room slam shut.
“Don’t let the hormones get to you,” Lara winked at Eli. “Now, tell me what I can do for you. Do you want to talk about it? Are you hungry? Just tell me what you need.” Lara Andrews sat next to her tired son and rubbed his shoulder. “He’s so big,” she thought. “When did that happen?”
“I don’t need to talk about it, Mom. I’m sure Deputy Clay told you everything. I am kind of hungry, though. I could use a sandwich.” His hunger had been masked by his headache, but now that his head was feeling better he could feel his empty stomach.
Lara, happy to have something useful to do that would help her son, jumped up from the table. She had gotten home from work just as Jake was dropping off Heather. Soon after, Rachel Putnam from the sheriff’s dispatch had called to tell her that the deputy was bringing Eli, Bug and Hunter home, and he would speak to her when they arrived. She had been frantic with worry. Heather had evidently overheard something on the sheriff’s walkie-talkie about some kids in trouble, but Lara had long since learned not to rely too much on things that Heather reported. Finally, as she made a ham and cheese sandwich for her first born, her heart was returning to its normal pace.
Mrs. Andrews placed the plate in front of Eli and poured him a big glass of milk. “How would you feel about me going to check on Hunter and Bug? Deputy Clay said they were both feeling pretty sick on the way back. I may be able to help.”
“That’s fine, Mom,” he replied through a mouthful of sandwich. “I had a headache earlier, but it’s gone now. Hunter was puking his guts out, though. And I don’t know what was wrong with Bug, but she was really weak. I think you should go see if you can help. I’ll be fine, I promise.” He grinned up at her feeling mounds better now that his head ha
d stopped pounding and his stomach was filling.
She smiled back and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “I’m so glad you’re alright, Honey. I’ll be back soon. Call my cell if you need me before, okay?”
He promised he would, and she left as he shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.
When he finished eating, he went into the family room to watch TV and wait for her to return. He needed some down time, too, some time to decompress. He turned to the mindless chatter of a reality show and quickly forgot about watching. His mind was churning with the events of the evening. He felt uneasy. Everything had happened so fast. First he was chasing Brody, then he and Hunter were going into the woods, then the box and Bug. Finally, he thought of Mr. Jackson. He was still trying to process it all when he heard his mother come in the kitchen door. He was surprised to see that an hour had passed.
“In here, Mom,” He yelled, anxious to hear what she had learned.
“Hey, Honey. How’re you feeling?” Lara came into the family room, dropped her small medical bag onto the couch and sat beside it.
“I’m feeling a lot better,” Eli said. “My head is fine and I’m not as tired as before. How’s Hunter?”
“Well, surprisingly, he’s doing pretty well. He says his stomach is feeling much better, and, judging from the way he was wolfing down a bowl of cereal, I believe him.” She smiled as she remembered Hunter attacking his Sugar O’s. She and Hunter’s mom, Gina, often joked that they each had two sons. As close as Eli and Hunter had been since birth, both women had essentially raised both boys.
“Bug’s doing well, too,” she continued. Mrs. Hamilton is babying her like one of the newborns she cares for at the hospital, but her color was back, and she was talking non-stop about the medical facts that contribute to brain hemorrhages. She’ll be fine. Why don’t you go on to bed. You’ve had a heck of a day, Son. We’ll go see Agnes and Darren tomorrow if you’re up to it.”