Last, but not least, at the corner of Morningside and Indian Ruin Road, was the home of Bud and Jennifer Thomas, whom Bishop had known and worked with for years. Bud was a building contractor who had built many of the homes along Morningside, including Bishop’s, as well as having built a number of commercial buildings and worked on the new Coconino National Forest Headquarters, recently built at the east end of the Village along Highway 179.
Like Bishop, Bud visited Sedona on his “decompression trip” after finishing his military service in 1974. He had joined the Navy right out of high school in Milford, NE, where his family had a farm. “There was no ocean in Nebraska,” Bud used to say, “and that’s why I joined the Navy. You didn’t have to till it, weed it, plant it or harvest it, and that suited me just fine.” He met Bishop at the Oakcreek Country Club, where he had stopped to play a round of golf. After playing golf together, Bish took a liking to the big, burly man and offered him some general handyman work. That shortly led to more and larger construction jobs, and before long he was a permanent resident of the Village. Bud was an imposing man at 6’2” and 240 pounds. He had unruly thick brown hair and a beard to match, which turned some people off until they realized he was a gentle giant with excellent carpentry skills. He had a big, muscular build from early farm work and construction labor and looked like a bodybuilder. But he earned his muscle the hard way. Bishop, who at his advancing age was still quite muscular, was on occasion heard to say of Bud, “He is as strong as a bear and I doubt, even at my best, I ever had the brute strength Bud, at 62, still possesses.”
Bud owns Thomas & Son Construction with his son Colby. He built his own home on Morningside in 1998 and gave his former home to his son. Also on the property of his former home, was a large corrugated metal construction barn, containing all their construction equipment, and hand tools, and his prized 45-foot, 2003 Newell Coach motor home, with three pop-outs. He always kept the Newell fully stocked, full of gas, water, and propane so he could hit the road whenever the impulse grabbed him. And, it could sleep seven, which meant the whole family could travel together. He could even pull his trailer with the two ATVs, behind. That he had spent upwards of a half-million on his prize would not have surprised anyone. A sure sign of the success of his business.
He built a mother-in-law apartment in the day-lighted basement of his new home on Morningside, even though he had no mother-in-law, and used it as his office.
Bud met his wife, Jennifer, at a Sedona Contractors Association meeting in 1975. She was the daughter of a local plumbing contractor, who had raised Jennifer as a single parent. They had a whirlwind romance and were married in Nov. 1976. Jenny, or Jen, as he calls her, handles all the bookkeeping for Thomas & Son, does all the ordering, and keeps the inventory. She is a five-foot, six-inch dynamo, with auburn hair in a short brushed back cut and hazel eyes. She is a one-woman office staff and runs a tight ship. She looks tiny next to Bud, but she knows how to hold her own. They have two children. Kirsten, at 38, is the oldest and is married to Matt Hudson, a mechanic and welder at the farm supply at Casey’s Corner in Cornville, and is a stay-at-home mom. They have 16 year-old paternal twins named Tate and Mattie, and live in Cornville, about 30 minutes from the Village.
Colby, Bud and Jennifer’s son, is 37 and married Maria Gonzales following his two-year stint in the Marine Corp, in 1998. They met in high school through mutual friends and dated for two years before he graduated and left for the Marines. She lived in Camp Verde and Colby had been born and raised in the Village at the Sun-Up Ranch Road home his father gave he and Maria when they married. Maria is 34, a wonderful cook, and an expert baker. They have three children: Jason, 15, Olivia, 11, and Todd, 8.
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In 2000, when Bishop built his home, and while Gary Bidwell and Jerry Patterson still lived on Morningside, along with Bud, the men all played golf at the Oakcreek Country Club and formed their own foursome they called “The Morningside Mavericks.” Bishop, who loved to barbecue, started having the rest of the Mavericks over for special events, like the 4th of July. When Jack Lloyd and Travis Brenner moved in, they quickly became full-fledged members of the Mavericks. Bishop also discovered that they liked to hike in the wilderness areas among the mesas and red rock formations, in addition to golfing, and shared his interest in the archaeology and geology of the area. Some liked to fish and hunt and many times they combined the hiking, hunting, and camping into a long weekend, especially in the fall during elk season. Even the non-hunters went along just for the hiking, camping, and camaraderie, and were joined by sons Tanner and Colby, and son-in-law, Matt.
The wives also took an immediate liking to each other. A couple played golf, some hiked, most worked out at the fitness center, and all shared a common interest in gardening. They all had watched each other’s children and grandchildren grow, at least to the extent that they had lived on Morningside, and now included as much of the extended family as were available in the 4th of July picnic.
The Morningside Mavericks, as they now referred to the extended families, when you counted the spouses, children and grandchildren, totaled 24 individuals, ranging in age from 70 to five. All was in readiness for this year’s 4th of July event and 20 of the 24 were expected to attend. Only Kristen (Thomas) and Matt Hudson and the twins were not planning to attend, due to other obligations. The Mavericks normally played golf on Fridays but they had canceled this week’s round because Travis had to be in Phoenix for a meeting and Tanner was visiting. Besides, Bishop still had some prep work to do and he intended tomorrow’s celebration to be one to remember. Little did he know that it would mark the start of a whole new era!◘
Chapter 5
Preparing for the Unknown
As Carly and Tara began clearing the table and cleaning up after breakfast, Bishop tapped Tanner on the shoulder and motioned with his head for Tanner to follow him.
“We’ll be right back,” he said to the girls, “we’re going to check on our supplies for the barbecue.” With that they moved out to the garage and Bishop immediately became more serious.
“I don’t want to worry the ladies or the children but I also don’t want to ignore the warning of the astrophysicist either.”
“I know,” Tanner replied, “Tara is already stressed about some premonition she has, and I certainly don’t want to frighten her even more.”
“I think the best thing is for us to continue our preparations for the barbecue tomorrow, but with a couple of extras. Let’s go up to Weber’s IGA and load up with as much bottled water as they’ll sell us and extra ice just in case the electricity is out for a while and we need to ice down some perishables. But, before that, we need to stop at Paul and Irene’s and fill up the Wrangler and the extra jerry cans. If the power’s out they won’t be able to pump gas and we’ll need it for our generator. We can put all our frozen food into the big freezer in the garage and run it on the generator so we don’t lose all that great beef and pork I like to barbecue. And, just to be safe, I’m going to take the batteries out of two of my clocks and wind the mantel clock, just in case!”
“Sounds good, Dad,” responded Tanner, but I think we better get to it because others will get the same idea if they heard the broadcast.”
“Good idea. I’ll tell the ladies.”
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As they entered the kitchen, Carly and Tara were talking quietly, but stopped when the men entered.
“We’re going up to the store for some extra supplies,” Bishop said, “but, we probably won’t be too long. Might gas up the Wrangler, too, while we’re at it,” he added.
“Why don’t you take the kids to get an ice cream cone while you’re out?” Tara directed at Tanner. “I know it’s early but they may not get the opportunity this afternoon,” she said with a sad look on her face; almost as if she were fighting back tears. Tanner knew that she and Carly had been talking about Tara’s premonition and the News Alert when they came in, and knew that she was right about getti
ng ice cream. It would get the kids out of the house and give her and Carly some private time.
“Sure,” said Tanner, “that’s a good idea. Hey, kids; you want to go get some ice cream with Grandpa and me?”
The kids were off the couch in a flash, forgetting all about the cartoons; moving so quickly they scared one of the nine lives out of Chloe.
Bishop put the jerry cans and a huge Yeti cooler for the ice in the back of the wrangler, made sure the kids were buckled in, and headed for Chapman’s Chevron station.
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As they got to the intersection of Raintrail Road and Verde Valley School Road they were amazed by the traffic, all headed north toward Highway 179. Though there was a round-about at the Highway intersection, Bishop realized it would still be slow going to get up to Chapman’s so he went straight ahead onto Slide Rock Road, which was an extension of Raintrail Road and wound around the IGA shopping center, past the Fire Station and behind the Wild Turkey Townhomes, to Chapman’s. There was already a line waiting at all the pumps so Bishop edged into line to wait his turn.
Irene Chapman spotted Bish and Tanner, waved, and came out to say hello. She greeted the kids first. She’d known them from shortly after they were born.
“Boy, that announcement on the TV has been great for business,” she said. “I only hope it’s just a little to do about an even littler event. I have a gasoline delivery scheduled for this afternoon but unless these lines thin out he’ll have to wait to fill me up. Of course, if I run out then the cars will have to move out of the way and let the tanker in, won’t they,” she mused.
“How’s Paul doing?” asked Bishop.
“He’s as busy as a horned toad on an ant hill,” Irene responded, “and he has Philip helping him out in the back changing oil and what not.”
“Well, I guess the extra business doesn’t hurt, Irene,” offered Bishop, “even though it may be a burden right now.
“Say, Irene, we’re having a barbecue down at our place tomorrow to celebrate the fourth. We’re having our annual get together of the Morningside Mavericks. Why don’t you, Paul, and Philip join us? I’ve got some great brisket,” he added.
“We’d love to, Bish, but you know tomorrow’s not only the fourth, it’s a Saturday, and that means we’ll be plenty busy with tourists coming up to the red rocks. Thanks anyway. It seems like every year we’re working when you have that bash. I wish Paul had taken up golf and got involved with the Mavericks 4th of July barbecue early on; then maybe he would have found an excuse to get someone else to run the station once a year.”
“Well, I’m sure we’ll have plenty left, so I’ll send a care package down to you on Sunday.”
“Thanks, Bish, I appreciate it. I hope you don’t have to wait too long to get your gas, but it looks like people are moving through pretty quickly.”
As they sat waiting their turn at the pump, Bishop and Tanner marveled at the high traffic count going by, all headed east on 179 toward I-17, which meant they’d either turn north toward Flagstaff or south toward Phoenix. They wondered out loud whether the morning’s News Alert had anything to do with it; and concluded it did because very little traffic was headed west on 179 toward Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon, normally real hot spots on holiday weekends.
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After filling the Wrangler and the two five-gallon jerry cans, they went the back way again and entered the IGA parking lot. There appeared to be a loose picket line around the parking lot manned by men and women of all ages, dressed shabbily, with hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed this year and wearing sandals or no shoes at all. They carried signs that read: “Repent! Judgment Day Is At Hand,” or “The Lord Cometh”or “The World Ends Today!”
“Obviously, they didn’t interpret the information from the News Alert the same way I did,” ventured Tanner to his father.
“Nor I,” added Bishop. “The Sedona area has no shortage of space-age cults and doomsayers and I guess the CME fits their criteria for the ‘End,’” he ventured.
Bishop inched the car through the picket line and found the parking lot was packed. “The day before the Fourth it’s always packed,” Bishop offered to no one in particular. “I guess some people thought it might be a good idea to stock up, just in case,” he thought to himself. “What say we get some ice cream first,” this time directed to Tanner and the kids. Bishop got no argument from anyone, only jubilant cheers of “yea!”
Bishop squeezed the Wrangler into a small spot next to the grocery cart rack that was not really intended to be a parking spot. But he was not about to keep driving around waiting and hoping for a spot to open up and using up the precious gas he had just waited in line for 45-minutes to get. The IGA shopping center was an “L-shaped” facility with the Ice Cream Shoppe tucked in the corner of the “L.” The kids made a bee line for it. If asked, they would have said “It’s the bestest place in the Village!”
They finished their 2-scoop waffle cones and headed for Weber’s. Bishop suggested they grab two shopping carts on the way in. The store was a mad house. Bishop had never seen so many people in the store at one time. It was chaos everywhere. Tanner put Kiera in the child’s seat of his cart and Trey pushed Bishop’s cart while Bishop walked behind him with both hands on the cart, as well. The last thing they needed to do was lose one of the children in the milieu.
People were trampling over each other grabbing all kinds of snack foods, beer, pop, and water. As Bishop and Tanner approached the bottled water shelves they were dismayed. They were almost totally empty. But, as if in answer to some silent prayer, one of the stockers approached with a hand cart full of gallon jugs and quart-size 12-packs. Bishop and Tanner emptied the hand cart and were headed down the aisle toward the front, with the carts loaded, before either the stocker or other customers hardly had time to know what had happened. The stocker was pursued by customers as he rushed toward the back for another cart full.
It was not Bishop’s style to help himself before others but he knew that he was buying for at least 20 people and, had he not helped himself to the water, someone else would. It’s a survival instinct, he surmised. While waiting to pay, Bishop suggested to Tanner that he go outside to the ice machine and get as much as he could reasonably load into a shopping cart and fill the Yeti in the Wrangler. Bishop gave him a handful of ones and quarters and Tanner headed outside. Bishop and the kids waited in line for an hour just to pay for the water.
Bishop unloaded the water into the vehicle and made sure the kids were buckled in; then started looking for Tanner. He could see him at the ice machine at the far end of the lot and could see he was in a heated conversation with someone. Bishop told the kids to stay put and headed toward Tanner, with deliberate speed.
A woman was nose to nose with Tanner, not normally Tanner’s style, and really reading him the riot act about something. It was later ascertained that she didn’t like waiting to get ice while Tanner was filling his cart. Tanner was apologizing, indicating he was finished and would be getting out of her way. But, that wasn’t good enough for the guy next to her, probably her husband, who was trying to provoke Tanner into a physical confrontation and, failing that, was about to initiate it himself. At that moment Bishop stepped in and suggested they all cool down, laughing at his own pun, and let Tanner pass.
That was all the presumed husband needed. He launched a round house punch at Bishop that Bish parried with the quickness of a striking serpent. He caught the man’s wrist with his hand and squeezed, applying pressure to the inside of the wrist with his thumb. The man was on his knees, on the ground, before anyone but Bishop had known what happened. The man and woman just watched with mouths open, saying nothing, as Bishop and Tanner pushed the ice cart to the Wrangler.
Bishop suggested that Tanner need not say anything to the kids or the ladies about this and Tanner nodded in assent. Tanner had seen his father handle situations like this before; without anger, yelling, or wasted motion. And never was there
any boasting or discussion afterward. It was a skill from the past and Bishop never talked about the past; at least that part of it.
Bishop started heading home when Tanner said, “Hey, pull over Dad. Isn’t that Colby’s son, Jason, in the doomsayer line?”
“I think it is,” responded Bishop, “I wonder what he’s doing here?”
“Let’s find out.” Tanner got out of the car and approached Jason, who immediately recognized Tanner.
Jason was 15 years old, stood 5’10” and weighed about 150 pounds. He had his mother’s dark coloring, and black hair and eyes. He had a distinctive ASU Sun Devil tattoo on his bicep. He was going through a phase that gave his mother and father fits. They were even contemplating putting him in rehab to get him away from his buddies and their pot habit.
“Hey, man,” slurred Jason, “Whot’s happnin’ man?”
“What are you doing in this line of doomsayers?” asked Tanner.
“Doom what?” he slurred. “I just walked down from home to score some weed and it looked like a parade so I decided to join in.”
“Why don’t you come with us and we’ll give you a ride home?”
“Sounds good to me, Mr. Westin. Didn’t score no weed, though.”
“It appears to me that you don’t need any more than you’ve already had,” responded Tanner. “Let’s get you home.”
Jason got in the car next to the kids and immediately fell asleep. They drove him to Colby’s home on Sun-Up Ranch Road and Maria, his mother, met them at the door.
Sinagua Rising Page 4