Shattered Lives

by Joseph Lewis

  George pulled the garden hose from the tan, plastic, portable carrier to give him some slack and turned on the water. It wasn’t terribly cold, but cool enough to refresh him and clean off the dirt, the grass and the sweat. He tilted up his face and held it over his head, shaking out his long hair.

  Reasonably clean, he sat in the sun on the back step and admired his work. Jon and Bert Lane came out of their back door and walked across the adjoining yards with a brightly wrapped package and a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses.

  “You look thirsty,” Bert said.

  “A little,” he admitted.

  He tried drinking from the garden hose, but the water smelled and tasted like rubber and was lukewarm. At least it didn’t have the sulfur smell that the well water had on his small ranch back home.

  Jon pulled out two of the lawn chairs from around the small patio set and asked George to sit in one of them. Then Jon went up the back steps, opened up the door and yelled for the twins to join them.

  Both Jon and Bert were older. How old, George couldn’t tell. They were old enough to have retired and to have a son who had graduated from college working in downtown Chicago, but young enough that George couldn’t tell just how old they were. He knew they weren’t nearly as old as his grandfather or grandmother. At least he didn’t think so. Yet, they were older than his mother and Jeremy.

  Randy and Billy bounced out the backdoor and joined them on the patio. Billy sat in the chair next to George, and Randy sat on the Chaise Lounge. Bert poured each boy a glass of lemonade with ice, which Jon delivered to each of them like a waiter.

  “George, Jon and I want to give you something to remember us by,” Bert said handing George the wrapped package.

  It felt light, and it wasn’t very big.

  “Thank you, but you didn’t have to,” George said to both.

  Jon said, “It’s not much, but it’s something we wanted to do.”

  “Well, go on . . . open it up,” Billy said, giving George a playful elbow.

  George took off the ribbon and bow and then slid his forefinger under one of the flaps that had been taped down and lifted it up without ripping it. Then he did the same to the other side.

  “You need some serious lessons on opening presents,” Billy laughed. “Just tear it.”

  George smiled but ignored him and slid his finger under another taped flap, which was the last of the flaps. He opened up the paper the entire way, slicking the tape to the inside of the paper leaving it completely intact.

  “My mother told us to save the paper and bows for another day,” George said quietly.

  “Sounds like a smart lady,” Jon said with a laugh. “I think I heard that a time or two myself.”

  Bert gave him one of her looks but laughed along with the rest of them.

  George then proceeded with the box and opened the white tissue paper to reveal a small photo album. Randy got up from the recliner and leaned over the back of George’s chair to view it, resting his chin on George’s shoulder. Billy leaned over to get a better look.

  The first photo was of the three boys, smiling, mugging for the camera with their arms around each others’ shoulders. George remembered the morning they posed for Jon, and the photo brought a smile to his face and a laugh from Billy and Randy.

  Billy added, “I’m the best looking.”

  “Not on your best day,” Randy replied with a laugh.

  The second photo was of Jeremy and George sitting on the back step talking. George remembered the day but didn’t know they had been photographed. And page after page the photos went: Randy and Billy; Jon, Bert and George on the Lane Front step; Billy and George planting flowers; a similar photo of George helping Bert plant flowers; a group photo of George, Jeremy, Randy and Billy; and the last photo of Jon and Bert with George in their backyard.

  “We know you’re faced with a difficult decision, and we know we might not see you for a while,” Jon said, “but we wanted you to know you’re very special to us.”

  George had tears in his eyes, and he blinked rapidly to control them.

  “We know what took place the other night, George,” Bert said. “It showed tremendous courage, love and selflessness.”

  George could not raise his eyes to look at them, but instead, he flipped to the photo of Jeremy, the twins and him, and stared at it, touching it gently with his fingers. Billy turned a bit to the side and away. Randy gave George’s shoulder a squeeze.

  At last, George stood up and embraced first Bert, getting a kiss on his cheek, and then Jon, who kissed the side of George’s head.

  “Don’t forget us,” Jon said, “and make sure you visit us from time to time, okay?”

  George nodded.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Suburb of Indianapolis, Indiana

  The man was naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist, and he stood in front of the sink staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had showered, but hadn’t shaved, thinking that facial hair would help him blend in and disappear. As tall and built as he was, blending in would be difficult, and disappearing nearly impossible.

  He had had a good life, and now, it was gone.

  The anger had been building. At first, it was a spark, an ember. There was never any fear, just the urgency to get away. But the fact that he had to run started the anger. The ember became a flame, and the flame grew into a raging fire. He wanted to lash out, strike back and hurt someone.

  Not just anyone, but those who had done this to him.

  There were several on his list. Each target important, essential. Each had to be dealt with and disposed of.

  Each had to be taught a lesson, and the lesson was simple, but painful. The lesson would have to be painful. That would be a very important part of the lesson: pain. That would give him satisfaction. It always did. After all, they had done this to him- taken away his life.

  It would take planning and preparation- two things the man was particularly good at, which was why his lifestyle had been undetected for so long. His secret would still have been undetected if that Indian kid hadn’t come forward. The man or one of the others would definitely have to take care of him.

  Then there were the two FBI agents- the woman and the old guy. He had never met them, but the paper and the TV hadn’t seemed to tire of showing their pictures, their faces and telling anyone who had tuned in what a fantastic investigation they had done.

  The man would be patient. He would plan.

  The man would take care of business.

  And there would be pain.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Waukesha, Wisconsin

  Randy sat next to Danny Limbach on one side facing George and Billy on the other. On the end sat Jeff Limbach. He was about the same age as Jeremy and had dark-hair flecked with gray and had piercing blue eyes and a warm, engaging smile. He seemed friendly and gentle, and it was clear that the boys had liked him.

  Before the Limbachs had arrived, Randy had explained that Jeff was a famous author. Each of his last six books debuted in the top five on the New York Times Best Seller List, and each had climbed to the top spot. Four of his books had been made into movies, and Jeff had written the screen adaptation for two of them, and in one, had a bit part. George didn’t read much, didn’t watch much if any TV, and had never been to a movie, so he had never heard of him, which the twins could hardly believe.

  Billy told George that when Jeff was eighteen, he was riding his motorcycle home from a football game late one Friday night. A drunk driver or someone who the police had assumed was a drunk driver, pulled up alongside of Jeff and squeezed him into the guard rail dragging him and the cycle for thirty yards, before throwing him off the bike and into a field, where a farmer had found him early the following morning. It was the helmet he had worn, the moist, muddy earth he had landed in, and the grace of God that had saved his life. As it was, Jeff had spent several weeks in the hospital, suffering agonizing surgery after surgery. Equally painful rehabilitation
followed up each surgery. He had to relearn to walk, and his football playing days were over, which was a tough way to end his senior year in high school. As a lasting remembrance of the accident and of the many surgeries he had suffered through since that accident, Jeff had an ugly scar and a permanent limp. He used a fancy cane made of dark wood with a pearl handle to help him get around. The only good that came from all of those long stretches in the hospital confined to a bed was that Jeff developed a love for books and writing.

  Danny Limbach didn’t look anything like his father, except for the piercing blue eyes and smile. He had a fresh, scrubbed look and a perpetual smile. His hair was cut short and worn in a preppy, gelled and spiky look. George couldn’t tell if his hair was light brown, dark blond or light red.

  He wore a blue polo shirt and khaki shorts and dockers with low cut socks. On his right wrist was a gold bracelet inscribed with the words Love, Always! It had been given to him by his father on his tenth birthday, the year his mother had divorced his dad and moved to Omaha, Nebraska, and the only time he ever took it off was when he showered. He considered it his most cherished possession.

  Danny was almost three years younger than George and the twins and was a close friend to them. He was also something of a musical genius. He had spent parts of the past two summers at Julliard in New York studying classical piano and guitar, though Danny had a penchant for rock and country with a bit of blues.

  Danny, who could play just about any instrument easily and well, had posted a video on YouTube of himself singing and playing guitar, piano and organ on the REO Speedwagon song, Roll With The Changes. It had caught the eye and the ear of Paul Schafer, band leader for the David Letterman Show, who invited him to perform the song with his studio band. Since then, he had appeared on the Letterman Show three other times. Schafer and Danny had developed a friendship and had texted and emailed each other often.

  Currently, he and Randy were writing songs. Randy would compose the lyrics, and Danny would set them to music. Both Randy and Danny could play guitar, though Danny way better than Randy, and they harmonized with each other easily, with Randy usually singing the lead. Their plan was to get one or more of their songs into the hands of a country artist. That was their dream, but both knew they were a long way off from that.

  Randy had told George that Danny had close to an eidetic memory, though it wasn’t ever actually tested, and when someone would comment on it, Danny would only laugh and say that his memory ‘was pretty good’. Quite the understatement because Danny could remember anything he had heard, read or saw. Billy added that Danny had skipped two grades, from fifth to seventh, and in the fall, would be in the same grade as the twins. The principal of Danny’s middle school in Omaha had wanted him to skip three grades, but Jeff and his ex-wife, Karen, said that the social aspects of skipping that many grades would be difficult for Danny to handle, and that the school would just have to supplement his coursework.

  The five boys looked at Jeff curiously, George more so than the others. He had a glass of orange juice in front of him, while Billy had a glass of milk. Randy and Danny had ice water, and Jeff had a half-emptied coffee cup that he was rotating in small, clockwise circles.

  “George,” he began, “Randy and Billy are my god-sons. Well, Randy is, but I treat Billy as if he was too.” He paused, smiled at the boys and then continued in a softer voice. “Jeremy told me about the other night. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if something had happened to you or if you had failed.”

  He paused, stared intently, but kindly, at George, who nodded, then lowered his eyes to the glass of orange juice he held firmly in his two hands.

  Jeff looked over at the twins and said, “I know I never told you this, but your dad is my best friend. When Danny’s mom and I divorced, it was a tough time.”

  He paused, looked at Danny, who squirmed in his chair although his expression hadn’t changed. He briefly made eye contact with his dad, but then he lowered his eyes to his hands.

  “I went through a tough time, and your dad helped me out of it,” Jeff said. He looked over at Billy and said, “When your father passed away, he left you a sizeable sum of money.”

  Billy blushed and nodded.

  “Jeremy is the executor of your father’s estate, and he and I set up a trust fund for you.”

  Billy didn’t like to talk about his father or his money, and he didn’t like being the topic of conversation.

  “What you don’t know, and what Randy doesn’t know . . . not even Jeremy knows, is that I set up a trust fund for Randy in the same amount at that same time. I didn’t want either of you to lack for anything, and I didn’t want Jeremy worrying about college or helping you get on the right foot after college. It was my way of trying to thank your dad for all he did for me.”

  Randy and Billy exchanged a look of surprise and then looked back at Jeff.

  “That money is distributed in several accounts and earning interest, so by the time you need it, you’ll be taken care of.”

  Randy cleared his throat and said, “Thank you.”

  Billy nodded.

  Turning to George, Jeff said, “This morning, I set up a trust fund for you in the same amount that Randy and Billy have now with the same time lines for dispersal.”

  George was normally slow to show any reaction because it wasn’t the Navajo way to show one’s emotion, but clearly, he was shocked. He had never met this man or his son before. They didn’t owe him anything, and to be honest, he didn’t feel very deserving of anything. He glanced at the twins who looked over at him smiling and then he turned back to Jeff.

  “Why?” he asked.

  Jeff smiled at him and said, “I love these two boys, and Jeremy is my best friend. You saved their lives, and I wanted to repay you for that.”

  “But I don’t know you,” George said but not disrespectfully.

  He was merely trying to understand.

  “No, but that’s okay.”

  “I haven’t decided whether or not to live here,” George said.

  Jeff smiled and said, “Living here is not contingent on whether or not the money is yours. Jeremy told me you want to be a forensic scientist or a policeman, and that’s a fine goal. This money will help you pursue that goal.”

  Randy cleared his throat again and said, “My dad doesn’t know you did this?”

  “Not yet. I’ll tell him at some point today or tonight, and I’m asking that you allow me to tell him, okay?”

  Randy nodded and Billy said, “Okay.”

  George said nothing, but stared at his glass of orange juice with a frown, holding it with both hands.

  “One last thing,” Jeff said.

  The boys looked at him expectantly.

  “George, as I understand it, you lost your family and everything you own.” He said this gently, kindly.

  George didn’t raise his eyes right away, but when he did, he looked at Jeff squarely, not betraying the conflicting feelings he had.

  “You, Randy, Billy and Danny are going shopping. You need clothes. You need a cell phone so you can talk to the boys and to Jeremy, and hopefully, to Danny and me. I think you need a laptop for school and because you live in a desert, you’ll need a satellite hook-up. You also need some luggage.”

  George’s eyes widened. He clearly was not able to hide his feelings any longer.

  “Boys, I think between the four of you, you’ll come up with things I haven’t thought of, right?”

  Billy laughed and said, “I’m a pretty good shopper.”

  George shook his head.

  “What?” Jeff asked.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I believe in giving back . . . in providing opportunities for people. I know I can’t give you your family back. I can’t imagine what it’s like losing your home and all your belongings.”

  George lowered his eyes and set his jaw, determined that he wouldn’t lose control.

  “I think you and I can agree that y
ou need clothes.”

  George nodded.

  “I think we can agree that you might want to keep in touch with the twins and Jeremy . . . I mean,” he struggled for the right words to use, “whether or not you live here or in Arizona.”

  George nodded.

  “So, we need to go shopping. Jeremy asked you to not decide yet, but in the event that you do . . . if you do decide to stay in Arizona with your cousin, you’ll have your clothes and whatever you need . . . to . . . you know what I’m trying to say,” Jeff said flustered.

  Frowning, George said, “But I don’t know you.”

  “But you’ve come to know the twins and Jeremy, right?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I love them very much. I know that if anything happens to me and to Danny’s mother, Jeremy would take Danny in and love and care for him in the same way he loves and cares for the twins. In the same way, if something would happen to Jeremy, I’d take the twins, and I’d love them as much and in the same way as I do Danny.”

  George said nothing.

  “It’s true . . . you don’t know me, but I know you recognize love. Jeremy said you’re a bright young man, so I think you understand why I want to help you.”

  George blinked and then nodded.

  “Randy, do you have a piece of paper and something to write with?” Jeff asked.

  Billy got up, went into the family room to the desk and grabbed a piece of paper from the computer printer and a pen out of the Wisconsin Badger mug filled with pencils and pens, and brought both back into the kitchen.

  “Why don’t you guys make a list of everything George might need,” Jeff said. “Start with what you guys have, and George can either say yes or no.”

  The whole time Danny watched and listened to his dad, he couldn’t help but feel proud. His dad smiled at him as he got up to refill his coffee cup.