Tenderly Beats the Lonely Heart

by K. J. Janssen

  The crowd in the bleachers disbanded rather rapidly, anxious to check out the many other activities the celebration had to offer. Shirley said goodbye and she and a few friends wended their way down to the exit passageway, leaving Miriam alone in the section. Not wanting to be obvious in her surveillance of the couple, Miriam eyed Thomas and Louise out of the corner of her eye, while she snapped picture after picture with her I-Phone, while pretending to be texting someone. After a half-hour of socializing Thomas and Louise took leave of the group and headed out of the park; with Miriam trailing close behind.

  The urge to cause a chance meeting was prevalent as she reduced the distance between them. How easy it would be, especially now that I know for sure that he is my Thomas, but I’d never forgive myself if I messed it up. I could do irreparable harm and maybe lose him forever. I promised Mike that I wouldn’t make any contact, so that’s what I’ve got to do, but it sure is hard.

  Miriam maintained a respectable distance as Thomas and Louise visited kiosks and stands, tried their hand at a few games. She saw Thomas checking his watch every few minutes and eventually started down the path to the parking lot. She was disappointed that she was losing contact with her son. They look so comfortable with each other. I’m sure they’ll go to the dance tonight; I’ll see him there. Right now, I’ll go back to my room, call Mike and tell him what I’ve found out.

  CHAPTER 11

  The phone rang five times before he picked up. “Yeah, Jimmy Nordstrom, here.”

  “Mister Nordstrom, are you associted with the band Bobby V and the Rhythm Riders?”

  “Associated? Hell, I’m their manager. Who wants to know?”

  “Mister Nordstrom, this is Captain Davis of the West Virginia Highway Patrol. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you.”

  Jimmy cut in, “What happened, has there been an accident? Is anyone hurt?”

  “I’ll get to that in a minute, sir. The band’s bus was heading north on I-77 at ten o’clock this morning, apparently headed back to Owensburg, from Bluefield, where they played last night. Just south of Charleston they were hit by a tractor trailer operated by a driver who was distracted by a flapping tarpaulin on his cargo. According to the report, he veered off the rain slicked highway, over the median and collided head-on with the bus.”

  The Captain hesitated a minute to let that sink in, then continued, “I regret to inform you that the driver of the bus, one Thomas Meltzer, was killed on impact. Another member of the band, Pete Zahn, died on the way to the hospital. The band leader, Bobby Vincienti, is in intensive care at Charleston General with a broken hip, several broken ribs and a multiple break of his right arm. Several other members were shaken up and are under observation. Except for the driver, Mister Zahn, and Mr. Vincienti, the others were fortunate to come out of the crash with just minor scrapes and bruises. I’ll give you the number of the hospital, if you want to speak with someone about their conditions.”

  Jimmy was at a rare loss for words, but it only took a few minutes for him to switch to the business side of his brain, “What happened to the driver of the rig? Was he cited?”

  “There was no sign that the driver, Denver Manes, was impaired by drugs or alcohol, if that’s what you’re implying. He is, however, being held while the Accident Reconstruction Task Force attempts to determine, with some certainty, exactly how the accident occurred.”

  “Well, I hope that rig jockey gets the book thrown at him. The roads aren’t safe with all that texting, CB’ing and pep-pill popping.”

  “Sir, we don’t know that anything like that is involved here. That’s why we hold these investigations. We need to get to the bottom of accidents in our State so that we can make the roads safer for every driver.”

  “Well that doesn’t help Mrs. Zahn or her three children, now does it? It doesn’t help Tom Meltzer’s mother that he was providing care for. That ain’t gonna help Bobby V who most likely faces a long recovery and may never be able to play again. Tell that to your ‘task force’. Maybe that will help them with their investigation.”

  “I understand why your upset, sir. Rest assured the State of West Virginia will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this accident. We take safety on our roads very seriously, down here.”

  Jimmy calmed down. “I’m sure that you do, Captain Davis. I apologize for that outburst. I was just blowin’ off steam. I’ll get in touch with Bobby and the band members at Charleston General and make arrangements with an associate down there to transport the bodies of Thomas Meltzer and Peter Zahn back to Owensburg where they lived. I appreciate your calling, Captain.”

  “Please contact me or my assistant, Sergeant Harding if you have any questions.” He gave Jimmy phone numbers for Charleston General, his own and that of his assistant and concluded the call.

  Jimmy put the phone back in the cradle. What the hell am I supposed to do now? I got that gig at Tiecher Park in eight hours. Jimmy knew that the ‘gig’ was no ordinary performance. This one

  was part of the town’s 200th Anniversary celebration. They were expecting the hometown favorite, Bobby V and the Rhythm Riders, to perform. They even contracted for “The Beast”.

  It was times such as these that Jimmy was glad that Bobby V didn’t have an agent to complicate matters; that Bobby trusted him to look out for the band’s interests. The two have partnered for a little over seven years and never had an argument that couldn’t be resolved over a couple of beers.

  Where the hell am I going to get a replacement band in such a short time; a band anywhere near as good as Bobby? Damn, sometimes I hate this business; all these headaches for a minuscule twenty percent management fee.

  I’ve got to find somebody decent before I call the Anniversary Committee; they’re going to be pissed-off big time, as it is. It’s a good thing I included an emergency substitute clause in the contract, or I’d really be screwed.

  Keeping his fingers crossed, that no one would find out about the accident before he had secured a replacement, Jimmy started to dial the numbers of bands within a radius of one hundred miles. An hour later, having had no success, in desperation, he called Bobby V.

  It took several transfers, but finally he was connected to the private room where Bobby was laying in a hospital bed staring blankly at the TV screen hanging from the ceiling. He had monitors and IV drips hooked up to his arms and chest. It took him several minutes to manipulate the phone with his left hand; years of texting seeming to fail him. Finally, he got the hang of it and pressed the “TALK” button.

  “Hello!”

  “Bobby, is that you?”

  “Jimmy?”

  “Who else? How are you doing, Bud?”

  “Not so good, Jimmy. I got busted up pretty good. One minute I was takin’ a nap on the bus and next thing I know I’m flat on my back in a hospital bed.”

  “I heard. What did the docs tell you?”

  “Just that I’m gonna live and that I’m going to be laid up for a long time; maybe as much as six months.”

  “Shit.” Social graces weren’t one of Jimmy’s long suits; nothing in the way of empathy could be anticipated. Instead he got right to the real reason he called. “You know that we have a gig at Tiecher Park tonight. I’ve called everyone I know, and I can’t find a band to stand in for you. You gotta help me out, here?”

  Bobby wanted to say, Christ, Jimmy, Pete and Tom are dead I’m busted up bad and all you care about is who you can get to replace me. You spend hours on the phone before you have the decency to call to see how I am. But, he didn’t. This was just Jimmy being Jimmy. Seven years had shown him many sides of Jimmy Nordstrom. He knew nothing would be gained by berating him now. So instead, he asked, “How about Vinny and the Cruisers?”

  “Those pot heads? Why the hell would you recommend them?”

  “They’re clean now, Jimmy, and they’re just looking for a chance to prove themselves. I sat in with his band during rehearsals a couple of months ago and t
hey have a real cool program. Take my word for it; they’d be perfect for this.”

  Bobby felt a sharp pain in his arm and pressed the button for more pain medicine. “Look, I don’t think they have any gigs right now. You give Vinny a call and tell him that I put in a good word for them.” He responded to the silence at the other end with, “I gotta go.”

  Bobby pressed the “OFF” button. I’ve got a real asshole for a manager. He slumped back on the bed. Who played at Tiecher Park tonight was the least of his worries.

  CHAPTER 12

  Wendell Phillips had already banged the gavel to bring the emergency meeting to order. Wendell could be spotted easily in a crowd by his overall appearance. Whereby he was short in height, 5’5”, he made up for it in girth, weighing in at slightly over three hundred pounds. A few townspeople referred to him as “Fatty” as in Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle, the silent picture star, with whom he bore an uncanny resemblance.

  Marge Nelson, (The Committee Secretary.) took attendance for the minutes of the meeting:

  “Wendell Phillips?” (Owner of four gas stations in town, and Chairman of the 200th

  Anniversary Celebration-Dance Sub-Committee.)

  “Here!”

  “John Clark?” (Principal of Owensburg High.)

  “Here!”

  “John Martin?” (Town Mayor and owner of three sandwich shops in town.)

  “Here!”

  “Payne Eaton?” (Town Elder and Family

  Law Attorney.)

  “Here!

  “Ralph Mason?” (Retired NBA Referee.)

  “Here!”

  “Peter Westlake?” (Owner/Operator of the local FM all-music radio station WOWM FM.)

  “Here!”

  Wendell, cleared his throat. “I move that we set aside the procedural stuff tonight and get right to the issue at hand.”

  “I second the motion,” Payne said.

  “All in favor say Aye.”

  “Ayes,” around the table.

  “Good, then let’s get to this crisis with the band. We’ve got only four hours before the concert starts.” He turned to Jimmy Nordstrom who was anxious to have his time. “What do you have for us,

  Jimmy?”

  In his customary terse demeanor, Jimmy wasted no time. “You all know about the accident, so I’ll cut to the chase. I’m obligated to provide the music for the dance tonight. I’ve already contacted a group that can do this gig for us. Vinny and the Cruisers are available, and they have experience with the pyrotechnics that will be used. Hell, the fireworks and lasers are what it’s really about tonight. I just need to get your okay before I sign the papers.”

  “Whoa, hold on there.” The speaker was Payne Eaton. “I’m not even sure that we should proceed with the concert, given the circumstances.”

  The other committee members shot quick glances at Payne. It was obvious that none of them had even considered calling off the show.

  Wendell turned to Jimmy. “Wasn’t that band in some trouble a few years back because of drugs; even did some time?”

  “Wen, that was several years ago. They’ve cleared up their act since then. Bobby V vouches for them and in my book that’s as good a recommendation as you can get.”

  Jimmy looked around the room. “Look, you guys, you have my word that Vinny can handle the job, but I need to get moving on this. We only have a few hours and they need time to work with the technicians from ‘The Beast”. Now, do I have your go ahead to sign them or not?”

  Wendell looked around the room, making eye contact with each committee member. “It looks like a go, but we’ll have to take a vote for the record.”

  Ralph made the motion, Peter did the seconding and it was approved unanimously.

  “Okay, you have your approval, but I’m warning you Jimmie, you better be right about this.” “Don’t worry, Wen, everything will be perfect.”

  Well now, that wasn’t too difficult to predict. After all, the dance/show was the culmination of the 200th Anniversary Celebration.

  It just had to go on.

  CHAPTER 13

  The Peyton’s had their special dinner set up by the time Thomas and Louise returned to the house. The screened-n porch was large enough to hold an assortment of wicker furniture and a large round table with a large heated plate in the center already stocked with assorted meats, shrimp and veggies. There were place settings for four with gold handled utensils and a long-stemmed wine glass rested next to each setting.

  Thomas and Louise washed up as soon as they returned from the park and joined Walter and Emily on the porch, taking their seats just as Walter began pouring from a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. As he did, he explained, “Jim Rogers, the owner of the wine shop, said this is a good all-purpose wine for a light meal such as this.”

  Emily added, “I knew that you were planning to go to the dance tonight, so I didn’t think you would want anything too heavy for dinner. I found this assortment in an article in one of those food and wine magazines last week and I thought it would be nice for tonight.”

  Louise looked over the food on the table.

  “This looks perfect, Mrs. Peyton.”

  “Oh, please, dear, call me Emily. Mrs.

  Peyton, sounds so formal. It makes me feel old.” “Thank you, Emily, I appreciate that.”

  Walter stood up. “I would like to propose a toast. Here’s to love and peace; two passions that the world is much in need of, right now.” He hesitated a moment before raising his glass.

  “Cheers.”

  They clinked their glasses with a round of “Cheers”.

  “Wow, that’s a great wine, Dad. Your friend didn’t steer you wrong.”

  Walter nodded his head, “Yes, it is good. I’ll have to write down the name and get some more in.”

  “Dig in you guys, let’s see if that magazine was right too.”

  Dinner ended about an hour later with a crème brulee cheesecake and coffee.

  “That was really great, Mom. I really loved that cheesecake.”

  “Well, have another piece, then.”

  “Not now. I’ve had enough, but if you have any left, I might just raid the refrigerator when we get home.”

  “I’ll make sure that there is some.” She turned to Walter. “Did you hear that?”

  “What are you picking on me for? I would never eat the last piece.”

  “Well, see that you don’t,” she said with a grin.

  “How about you, Louise, can I save a piece for you too?”

  “Sure, if it won’t be any trouble.”

  “None at all. I’ll stop off at Bensons and pick up another cake. That way we can enjoy it again tomorrow and if we have any left over, then you can take it with you when you leave.”

  “That sounds great, but please don’t put yourself out.” He rose from the table, “I think we’re going to have to excuse ourselves. We’ve got a dance to dress for.”

  “Louise piped in with a mischievous look on her face, “Thomas promised to show me his moves.”

  Emily looked puzzled as she asked Thomas,

  “You have moves?”

  Thomas snapped back, “Don’t you start in on that too. You know I look good on the dance floor.”

  His mother shrugged her shoulders, and burst out laughing, “Whatever you say, dear.” As she rose from the table, Louise offered,

  “May I help you clean up?’

  “Don’t be silly, Louise. You go ahead and get ready. Walter and I will take care of this.”

  Back in their room, Louise and Tom busied themselves with getting ready for the dance.

  “That was so nice of your parents to make that dinner for us. They are such a sweet couple.”

  “They are that. I could kick myself when I think of the time that I got into trouble as a teenager. I can still remember the painful look on their faces.”

  “You don’t seem like the type that would get into anything rea
lly serious.”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised, if you knew.”

  “What? Tell me. Come on, you can’t start that kind of a conversation and then not finish it.” Thomas looked at her with a frown. “Alright, but you have to remember that I was only fifteen at the time.”

  She sat down next to him on the bed. “I’m all ears. What did you do, Mister Capone?”

  “Well, as you can imagine, being the son of a policeman makes you different from the other kids at school. Not that it makes life easier; far from it. In that environment, belonging requires proving yourself. In this case I needed to prove to four members of an elite clique that I wasn’t what they kept calling a ‘goody-goody’. I don’t know why it was so important to me to get their approval. I’ve never been the kind of person that goes along with the crowd.

  “Anyway, the test meant committing a crime. We broke into the high school and vandalized the library, chemistry lab and gym to the tune of over forty thousand dollars worth of damage. It took the police only two days to pin the break-in to the five of us and then, only because one of the guys told his girlfriend, who told her parents. Fortunately, the judge that heard the case was a personal friend of the parents. That happens in a small town. He only gave us two months of community service and fined each family eightytwo hundred dollars to pay for repairs and court costs.

  “The parents of the other four boys were well off, financially, but the fine took a heavy toll on Walter and Emily. They had to take a personal loan to pay for it. Of course, having to pay the fine wasn’t the worst of the situation. Their pride as parents took the biggest hit. Especially with him being the town Sheriff. Up until that time they never experienced even the slightest of difficulties in raising me. They were more concerned with why I had to get involved with the other boys, than my being involved in a crime that was high on the list with shoplifting and vandalizing cars parked on the street. I understood their concern and was willing to do anything to earn back their respect.”