When His Dreams Take Flight

by Andy Holloman

  “Hard to believe, huh? I’ve never seen this gym so packed with people. I think the whole town is here tonight. And I know it’s hot and I know there a few parties that everyone wants to get—”

  A student yelled out, “We love to party!” More laughter.

  He smiled, “And I’m certain the parties will be much more interesting than what I have to say. So let me just get on with this and then it’s time to celebrate. Because that is what we’re here to do, and frankly,” he wiped the sweat from his forehead, “Ms. Tucker would not have it any other way.”

  He paused and the crowd quieted.

  “All of us, everyone here at school and in our small town, experienced a horrible tragedy. A tragedy we will never forget. But let me tell you about the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met and what she would say to all of you, if she could, about how to frame this tragedy in our minds.” He took a sip of water from a bottle inside the podium.

  “Some of you may know that Allison’s, I mean Ms. Tucker’s, father died not too long after she began teaching. He was a great father and dedicated his every waking moment to making her life the best it could possibly be. He passed to Allison a message about death that I feel is important for me to pass along to all of you. And after you understand it and implement this message into your actions every day, you will come to know what Allison knew and then shared with me: Her father’s message was not a message about death. His message was an astounding, true message, about life.

  “All of us will have someone close to us die. Some of you may have already experienced this. If any of you have not faced the death of a loved one, it will happen. It’s inevitable. You will grieve and it will be so painful. You will mourn and you will cry. But then, you will move on.

  “Allison’s father told her that after he died, the best thing she could do to honor his memory was to live her life to the fullest. He wanted her to make friends, fall in love, have a family, work and play hard, and be happy. Always be happy. Because we must realize the only true way we can create a memorial to those who have passed on is by creating a life that makes us joyous. Sing songs and dance. Go to parties. Hug your friends. Help those in need. By creating a life in which we strive to extract the greatest amount of joy possible from every day, we say to the world around us, and to those beyond this world, that we don’t take things for granted. We say to the world that the people we miss are important. We say to the world that those who have left us are not forgotten. Because we choose to celebrate their glorious gifts to us, by living our lives in such a way that we pass along the same gifts to those that we love. Every day. Every hour. Every smile. Every kiss.

  “This is what I choose to do to honor Allison. She was a beautiful person. Not only on the outside, but on the inside. She cared about her students. She worked hard to help them learn and succeed. If you worked with her, or learned from her, or played with her, you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she cared, deeply. So since she can’t be here to teach all of you this important lesson, I honor her by passing along this information to everyone here, especially our seniors.

  He held up his hands, “So, Seniors. Rise up in your seats and hold the hands of the people next to you.”

  The students rose slowly. Several wiped their eyes.

  “Okay, well, wipe the tears away if you need to, I’ll wait,” he paused and wiped away his own.

  “Today is a day to celebrate a tremendous achievement. Be proud. Be bold. Be humble. Be happy. But above all, be the person that makes a difference in the life of someone you love. Take what you have learned here at James Thomas High School and apply that knowledge in such a way that you live life to its fullest potential. Do it for yourself, because I can tell you, this is the path to a spectacular life. And do it for Ms. Tucker, because when you live your own life in this fashion, you honor her memory. And by honoring her, you also honor all the other people in your life that love and support you.”

  The crowd began to applaud again. Nick held his hand up to quiet them.

  “I’m so incredibly proud of all the seniors here tonight. Very proud. To all of the parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, significant others, sisters, brothers, and the like; the staff here at James Thomas High thanks you from the bottom of our hearts. The young people that you have helped to shape and mold into the seniors that are standing before us today also say thank you. They say thank you in the most wonderful, glorious way possible: by pledging tonight that they will live their lives in a way that grabs happiness from every possible moment. Thank you, everyone. God bless you all. And God bless Allison Tucker.”

  ***

  June 21, 2013

  To: Ntownsend@mrss.net

  From: Llapsley@wraltvnews.com

  Subject: Let’s get together for a chat! I want to interview you!!

  Hi Nick, It’s Laura Lapsley from WRAL and I have called you SOOOO many times but you never call me back. I’m so very sorry for the terrible tragedy that happened at your school and I’m especially sorry for your personal loss. So I know that calling you and sending this email could be seen as insensitive, but I feel your story needs to be told. I feel very strongly we need to spread the word about what happened at Thomas High so we can prevent this from happening in the future.

  Please call me back. There are so many important parts of this story that my viewers want to know about and they HAVE to hear from you. You are the story and you were there when it happened and YOU are the person to help us prevent this from happening in the future.

  Let’s get together and chat. It doesn’t have to be on the record. I want to know everything that happened the way you saw it. Also, there’s been this interesting side development around your story and I want to ask you a few questions about it. There was a cellphone picture that was taken by someone at a terrible shooting at a college in Austin this spring where two very brave men interrupted a shooting in progress and helped save dozens of lives. The picture is blurry but I want to show it to you. And I looked up more about this shooting and strangely enough the two men that were the heroes were named Nick and Gene. I just want to get your comments about all this. No one has ever come forward to say they were the ones that stopped the gunman in Austin. Maybe you know something about this?

  So call me back. One thing you’ll notice about me is my persistence. So you will find it much better to call me rather than just avoiding me. I will just keep calling and emailing and you may just get so annoyed! And I would never want that to happen. So call me!

  Regards, LL

  ***

  Persistence was the quite the understatement. She called every day, leaving the same message. It was easy to ignore her phone messages, but impossible to ignore her when she showed up at Allison’s hospital room a week after he received her email. The door was already open and she walked in with a big smile.

  “Oh, Nick, yeah, you’re here. Hey, I’m Laura Lapsley from WRAL.” She brushed back her hair, her smile grew larger. “Wow, you’re even better looking in person than you are in pictures.”

  He got up from the chair beside Allison’s bed and hurried to the door to prevent her full entry, “Oh no, it’s you.”

  She held out her hand. “I’m so happy to meet you finally.” He didn’t shake hands. A cameraman stood behind her, scanning up and down the hallway.

  Nick frowned, “So it’s the one and only persistent Laura from WRAL.” He took her by the elbow and tried to push her back out the door. She stepped quickly to the side, releasing his grip, and moved further into the room.

  “Well, I guess you busted me. Yes, I can be a bit persistent. But only when there is a good reason and the reason is I could never get you to call me back. You really know how to hurt a girl’s feelings.”

  “Please tell me that you’re not so crass that you would come into the hospital room of a man who’s fiancé is in the bed dying as we speak,” said Nick.

  “Oh god, when you say it like that, it sounds so terrible. But just like I’ve said so many times
in my phone messages, I am so very sorry about your loss. Really I am. Allison seems like such a special person. Oh, and your graduation speech and all the incredible things you said to the students and about her—amazing.”

  He chuckled, “You were there?”

  “No, but I did watch it on YouTube. One of your students posted a video. Very moving. Bravo to you, sir.”

  “Thank you, but I still have to ask you to get out of this room.”

  She frowned, “Really? Can’t you give me just a little bit of time?” He pointed at the door.

  She took two steps towards the door and then turned back to him. “I came all the way over to Durham tonight just to try to catch you. Talk with me for five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. I only have a few—”

  “No.”

  “I think you should reconsider. There are some things that are so interesting about you and the shooting at your school and this other incident in Austin. Probably nothing, right?”

  He cleared his throat, “Okay.” He moved his face in close to hers and lowered his voice. “Listen to me, you irritating bitch.” He pointed back at the bed without turning away. “I’m here with Allison, the love of my life. She’s brain dead. I’m desperately hoping that my baby will survive. And here you are with some bullshit questions about who knows what. Are you really going to keep after me about this? What kind of person are you?”

  She took a step back, “Well, umm, I don’t think you should get so upset.”

  He grabbed her forearm and shoved her out the door, then closed it. “Do not try to contact me,” he yelled from behind the door. “People like you don’t have any respect. You think you can use that little bit of shitty celebrity you have and jump into some situation that you don’t know a goddamn thing about and start asking questions. Screw you and leave me alone.”

  “I’m sorry, Nick, really I am,” she yelled back, “but there are some things you need to address. I’ll be in touch. I know this is a bad time.”

  He returned to the chair beside her bed and sunk into it. He brought his hands up to his face, through his hair, and slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair. When he closed his eyes, visions of tequila fairies danced in his head.

  XXI – July 5

  A month after the accident, his routine consisted of visiting Allison for a few hours twice a week and spending the rest of the time trying to stay busy at home. Her body existed solely to assist in growing the baby, a job at which it excelled. When he visited, he would read to her, hold her hand, and ask her questions about the baby. They hadn’t even had much chance to discuss possible names. Through her pale skin, he could feel the baby kicking. But this act, of monitoring the baby’s movements, didn’t have the same joy that he had imagined it would had they been able to share the moment. He knew from his friends and staff that the most wonderful part of being pregnant, for mother and father, was having someone to share it with.

  Her fingers were rigid, her toes curled at awkward angles. It was an unfortunate aspect of keeping her alive in order to provide for the baby’s survival. She was thin. Bandages covered most of her head and face. Her hair was falling out and one time he brushed pieces of it onto his hand and brought it up to his nose, hoping it smelled of her. But it had the same aroma as every hospital he had ever been in—Lysol, Band-Aids, plastic cups, Jell-O, and iodine. Sanitized beyond recognition.

  One evening, Alice pulled into his apartment parking lot just as he was walking down the steps to visit Allison.

  “Hey there, Nick. I was hoping I might catch you.”

  “Sure, hey, Alice. I was heading out to Durham, but I’m not in a hurry.”

  Alice brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Nick. I feel so bad that I haven’t sent you a card or anything. How’s she doing?”

  “Honestly, Alice, there’s not much to report. They’re just keeping her alive for the baby.” He leaned back against his car and crossed his arms. “But I know you didn’t drop by to chat about her.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t, Nick. But I am really sorry. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through.”

  “I’m getting better every day. We all have our struggles.”

  “Your graduation speech was very inspiring. You did our town a tremendous service by stepping up to the podium like that. I’m sure it was hard.”

  He smiled, “This town’s been good to me. The kids needed to see me.”

  “That’s true.”

  He nudged a rock with his shoe, “So what’s on your mind? Do you have more questions about the school incident? Seems like we spent enough time already going over that.”

  “No. Well, I do need to get you up to speed about Stick’s situation. But first, we need to talk about Gene’s accident.”

  His eyes opened wider, “Really?”

  She nodded, “Ever since the thing at school and that bit of information that Timmie gave about Stick’s online chat session, well, I just couldn’t stop thinking about what you and I discussed.”

  “You mean maybe that Stick was involved?”

  “Kinda. It’s what you said about Gene not being a bourbon drinker.”

  “Yeah. Still doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “And I told you that his blood alcohol test came back with no traces of booze, right?”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  “So with all this stuff coming up, it just isn’t making sense to me, either. And we have this fake chat session, done with some computer trick.”

  Nick scratched his chin, “So I guess you were able to confirm the online stuff?”

  She shook her head, “No, we can’t. The laptop’s gone. Stick claims it was stolen from his room at the halfway house in Raleigh.”

  “Hmm. Lucky coincidence.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, even without the laptop, my hunch is that Stick was involved in Gene’s accident. There just isn’t enough evidence to prove it.”

  “Well, I agree. But isn’t Gene’s possible murder a moot point? Stick’s going to be put away for a long time. He’s a felon that brought a gun to a school, that’s a serious crime right there.”

  She looked down, “You’d think so, huh?”

  His face darkened, “Are you telling me that he’s wriggling out of this?”

  She looked back up at him. “Don’t know. I just know that it’s looking harder to keep him behind bars for a long time.”

  “What changed? The paper said that he’d get at least fifteen years and probably no chance at parole.”

  “What changed is his mother put up her home to bond him out, that’s why he’s been free for the last two weeks. She’s also come up with enough cash to hire a big time Raleigh law firm.”

  “Damn it. So I think you’re getting ready to tell me that the guy that shot Allison is going to get off.”

  “No, I don’t think that he will get off. But our little police force and county prosecutor are not well-equipped to deal with big city lawyers. There have been filings regarding Stick’s mental status at the time. The lawyers have a psychologist lined up to testify that because he was not taking his medications, he wasn’t able to tell right from wrong. That he was too confused and unstable.”

  He slammed his foot back against his car. “Goddamn! My fiancé is lying in a hospital room, brain dead. Shot with a gun this dirtbag brought into my school, and now there’s a chance he won’t be punished.”

  “Nick, I know this is bad news, but we’re just getting started with this case. These things take a while to work through the system.”

  “So in the meantime, he’s living free and easy, huh?”

  She sighed, “Yes. But there’s another angle here, maybe. If we can find enough evidence to charge him with Gene’s murder, then we can stack the deck against him and his big city legal team.”

  Nick closed his eyes and rolled his head around while massaging his neck. “But all we have is a suspicion.”

  “That’s it. That’s all we got.”

  “And are you thinking that
somehow I have some info or something else that is gonna help with this case?”

  “I don’t know. What you told me about the bourbon bottle and that Gene hated the stuff, well, that’s what got me thinking and digging deeper.” She shifted her belt and looked around the parking lot. “And this other thing with the fake chat program, well, if you’ve been doing this awhile like I have, you get a feel for things.”

  “I get it. Just don’t know what I can do about any of it.”

  “I understand. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now. I just want to keep you in the loop on this.”

  “Thanks. I want that rat bastard behind bars more than anyone.”

  She smiled. “Maybe not more than me. Especially if we find out he was involved with Gene’s accident.”

  “I hear you.” He held out his hand and she took it. “Thanks again, Alice. You take care.”

  “Bye Nick. I’ll be seeing you.”

  XXII - August 3

  The bottle of Cuervo sat on his coffee table. The bottle seemed brighter than he remembered, the tequila glistened and sparkled, and the label appeared more vibrant. He shifted forward on the couch and poured the liquid into a large glass of ice. He loved the sound of the alcohol rushing over the cubes, causing the ice to crack and melt.

  He closed his eyes and brought the glass up to his face, letting the aroma settle into his nose. The smell moved through his sensory system, lighting up the pleasure centers in his brain. No one was around. The love of his life was dead. There was no Allison, no Gene, no one he cared about. Why should he suffer? Why shouldn’t he have a drink? He dipped his finger in the glass and brought a drop to his lips. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It was going to be so wonderful.

  Don’t do it Nick. Buck the fuck up. Gene’s voice rang in his ears.

  Suddenly, he drew his arm back and threw the glass against the wall. It smashed into the coa, knocking it down. The glass shattered into a dozen pieces. The coa planted itself into the wood floor. His hands came up to his face, his fingers began massaging his temples.