Authors: Paul Adan
“What are you doing, punk?” the voice asked. “Are
ya scared? How come you keep look’n at the ground?” The holding cell quieted down, considerably, as the other inmates watched the unfolding scene with increasing interest.
Barely raising his head, Edward looked up at the owner of the voice and replied, “No – no, I’m not afraid. I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.” As he spoke, he glanced at the man’s ankle and noticed a large bandage. Blood was seeping through the dressing and soiling the man’s pant-leg. Edward ignored the apparent wound. He hoped his answer to the man’s questions would satisfy him, and that he’d leave him alone. But he was grossly mistaken.
“You know what? You look awfully familiar,” the man snarled. “In fact, I think I know you. Look at me, punk! I want to get a good look at you.” The man stood up from his seat.
Edward was completely taken aback by the man’s hostility. He instinctively raised his head, straightened his back, and repositioned his feet on the floor. He quickly looked into the man’s eyes in order to gauge his intentions, and perhaps detect a clue which might explain his behavior. At first, Edward saw nothing but anger and hatred. But soon, upon studying the man, he noticed something vaguely familiar – and thoroughly terrifying.
“It’s YOU!” Edward hissed from between clinched teeth. His entire body trembled as he spoke. For several seconds he could do nothing more than glare at the man through tiny slits.
BY NOW, Jason Lewis had also recognized Edward. He laughed at Edward’s unbridled anger, and presently sat down beside him. Edward shifted nervously on the bench – trying to create some space between them – but Jason draped his arm over Edward’s shoulders, as if they were old friends. The other inmates in the holding cell soon lost interest in what was
transpiring when it became apparent that there wasn’t going to be a fight.
Jason spoke quietly; his words mockingly condescending. “Edward – Edward – my little friend who thought he could get away with blackmail. Did you seriously think that I wouldn’t suspect that you were the one who phoned in the anonymous tip to the cops? Do you think I’m that STUPID?” He paused, looked at the floor, and then back at Edward. “I am curious though. How is it that you knew I was the one who broke into your family’s house?”
Edward had regained his composure, somewhat, and meekly responded. “The toothpick – I found a toothpick on the stairs shortly after you broke into our house. I recalled how you always liked to have something in your mouth – usually a toothpick. I hadn’t seen it on the stairs before I went to bed. And since I was the last one to go to bed, I assumed you had dropped it when you were sneaking up the stairs.”
“So, just because you found a toothpick you concluded it was me that had broken into your house?” Jason asked
, incredulously.
“Well,” Edward replied, “there was also the missing key. I knew that since you did our yard-work, there was a good chance that you knew about the spare house key – the one that was kept in the garden shed. When I looked for it several days after the break-in, it was gone. Common sense suggests that whoever broke into our house came in through a door, and that means he had to have had a key. Otherwise, there would have been some damage to either the doors or the windows – which there wasn’t.” Edward paused as he contemplated the significance of what he was about to say next. “And then there was that damn knife. I knew you liked it – so when it came up missing, I knew it had to be you who took it.”
Jason smiled. “I gotta hand it to you,” he said. “You’re smarter than I thought. You’re also a crafty little devil. When you approached me in the church parking lot, demanding that I supply you with alcohol and cigarettes in exchange for your silence, I was surprised. I would have never thought that you’d have the guts to blackmail me. I’m also surprised you figured everything out about the burglary. I knew you had something on me, I just didn’t know how much...” He stopped speaking, and soon began shaking his head back and forth, slowly and deliberately. His mood darkened as if a switch had been thrown in the deep down recesses of his soul. His words became confrontational and threatening. “You know, Edward, you should’ve known better than to mess with me. Did you think I was gonna allow you to blackmail me forever? Did you? I ought’a rip your head off right here and now. I went to JAIL because of you! It’s a good thing for you that I didn’t see you for several years – until that night at Lucky’s. Otherwise, you would have been dead meat by now...”
As Jason spoke, Edward was also becoming increasingly angry. He had, after all, gone to jail because of Jason. Moreover, were it not for Jason, he would have never undergone the torment he’d experienced during the previous two months.
You have no idea what I’ve gone through
, he thought.
Because of you, JASON, my life has become a living hell!
Boldly, he interrupted Jason’s rant with a question: “Were you planning to kill me at Lucky’s?” His brow furrowed and his eyelids narrowed as he spoke.
Jason was unconcerned about the change in Edward’s demeanor. “I was
think’n about it,” he replied nonchalantly, “but I was already busy taking care of ole’ Joey Jones. My plan was to shank Joey when he was nice and drunk. But then, when that little dispute arose with you and your friends, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to frame you. I knew that since you were the owner of the knife, murdering Joey with your knife was bound to throw off the police...plus it would be payback for your blackmail. The fact that your friend was blamed was a complete surprise to me. Who would have ever thought that HIS prints would be on the knife – especially, after all these years? It’s kinda funny, if you think about it.”
By now, there was a verifiable blizzard of anger churning inside of Edward.
Funny? You think this has been FUNNY? I’ll show you what’s funny!
His pulse raced as he clinched his right fist into a tight ball. He was moments away from hitting Jason, as payback for the hell he’d been through, but he held back; he was still a little afraid. And that’s when Jason said something that tipped the balance and sealed his fate.
“You know, Edward, you’ve always been a pathetic coward. Even I – criminal that I am – would never allow my friends to go to jail for me.” Jason lied, but he said it to bolster his argument. “You’re such a loser. Look at you. You look like something the cat dragged in from
the side of the road. I sure hope you’ve enjoyed yourself here in jail,” he said with a snicker, “because this is where you belong. In a way, you’re more of a criminal than me...COWARD!” He sniffed in a contemptuous manner when he was done speaking.
Edward was no longer able to contain his anger. Abruptly, he stood up from the bench and glared down at Jason – who stared back at him with an unsuspecting smirk on his face. Edward’s anger intensified even further.
I’ll show him!
he thought.
Remorselessly, with every ounce of strength he could muster, Edward punched Jason squarely on the nose. Jason’s head jerked backward, as if he’d been hit by a sledge-hammer, and a popping noise could be heard as the cartilage in his nose shattered into a dozen pieces. Bright red droplets of blood sprayed out onto Edward’s shirt and face. Jason’s head instantly recoiled, slamming hard against the cement wall behind him. There was a sickening thud, and moments later his eyes rolled back in his head. Then, as if in slow motion, Edward watched as Jason slumped to the side and fell to the floor – dead!
A look of horror and dread crossed over Edward’s face; for he knew immediately what he had done. He cried out, “No! No! Noooo!” But it was too late. The die had been cast, and fate had dealt the Lucky Boy a cruel blow.
AS THE Minister eulogized the life of Edward Bryant, Josh sat quietly in the front pew of the Ever-Faithful Community Church. Through the windows, he occasionally watched as tiny flecks of snow drifted slowly downward to the frozen earth. The sky was an ominous steel-gray color, the ground white with snow. Every so often gusts of wind rattled the doors and windows, while sending bursts of cold air jetting beneath the pews of the drafty church. Josh tucked his chin into the confines of his jacket, and shoved his hands deeper into the pockets. He glanced over at Jerry – to connect with him on some level – but Jerry was looking outside with a distant stare.
The Minister spoke softly: “
Not even a stone fortress,” he said, “can withstand the power behind a drip of water, if the drip continues for a long time. So it is with the human spirit when it is relentlessly bombarded with trials and tribulations. Every man must have an inner source of strength, or he is doomed to destruction...” Solemnly he paused, looked down at Edward’s casket, and continued speaking. Though his words were meant to provide comfort, they were actually a grim reminder for Josh.
EVER SINCE he’d been released from jail, Josh was tormented by a particular memory: it was the moment in the holding cell when Edward had said something, in a stammering voice, about feeling responsible for their incarceration. Josh remembered this moment, as if it were yesterday, and was still haunted by the look he’d seen in Edward’s eyes when the CO came into the room and interrupted his mea-culpa. He also remembered the many, many occasions he had visited with Edward as he awaited trial, and how he had grown increasingly frustrated and perplexed because Edward was strangely reluctant to divulge any information. And then there were the letters. Even after he’d been convicted and sent to prison, Josh
had repeatedly sent him letters of encouragement and inquiry. But Edward had never written him back.
His mind soon turned to thinking about the disturbing phone call he had received several days earlier from Edward’s sister, Sandra. Although he had never met her before, he knew about her because of Edward. When he had picked up the phone, the first thing he heard was the sound of someone sobbing. Briefly he had thought about hanging-up, thinking perhaps it was a prank call, but he decided to wait for a bit. It wasn’t long before the crying subsided, and the caller introduced herself as Sandra Bryant. She then explained that Edward had recently passed away while in prison – apparently from suicide – and that she was making arrangements on behalf of her family to have his remains buried in Turnbuckle. The reason she had called was to invite Josh and his friends to the memorial service and funeral. When she was done speaking, she had graciously ended the conversation and hung-up.
A LUMP began to form in Josh’s throat when, suddenly, he was pulled back to the present by the flickering flame of a candle. The candle was positioned a few feet away from the casket, on a table covered with a frilly cloth, and was sputtering as if it was on the verge of being extinguished. For a minute or two, Josh was mesmerized by the tiny flame as it slowly died out. There was a final sputter, followed by a wispy thread of smoke that quickly disappeared into the airy nothingness above Edward’s lifeless body. Josh turned his attention to the podium.
At that instant, the Minister was concluding his remarks with a prayer: “And may the Lord God Almighty,” he said in a commanding voice, “grant rest and peace to Edward’s soul. We pray these things in His blessed name. Amen.” He opened his eyes, walked over to a chair, and sat down with an audible sigh.
It’s finally done,
Josh thought as he looked again at the open casket.
Now I can move on with my life and put this hellish nightmare behind me.
He looked over at Jerry, who was still staring out the window. Suddenly, the door of the church swung open and a gust of wind swept into the sanctuary. As the gust approached the front of the church, papers flew in every direction, and flower arrangements toppled to the floor. Then, as if by the hand of God, the gust smacked hard against the lid of the casket.
“SLAM!”
Jerry jumped in his seat; then sheepishly looked around at those who were seated nearby. He was embarrassed by his jittery nerves, and looked at Josh for reassurance.
“Don’t worry about it,” Josh consoled him, “it’s that damn jail.”
ARTHUR KLIPP
– The “Lucky Boys” case was quickly forgotten by the public, and Arthur was elected to the office of State Attorney General. In his stump speeches, he vowed to always fight for those who were wrongfully accused of crimes. He also stressed the importance of creating a national DNA database. After his first term as the AG, he began to yearn for a seat in the state senate.
BEN TYLER
– After he dropped out of college, Ben joined the United States Marine Corp. His superiors were continually impressed by his intelligence and his drive to succeed. Within a few years, he’d been promoted to Staff Sergeant in a Marine Recon unit. By the time of the terrorist attack on 9/11/2001, he was an expert sniper with 10 confirmed kills under his belt.
FRED STERLING
– Following Robert’s retirement, Fred became the new lead detective. He worked closely with Arthur Klipp’s successor on several major investigations, and was awarded two citations for bravery. Once, after being shot during a drug-raid, he spent two months with Robert (in the Bahamas) while he recovered from his wound.
JERRY MCDONALD
– After his release from jail, Jerry re-acquired his passion to obtain a top-notch education. He eventually secured a scholarship to Yale, where he received his Bachelors in pre-law, with a minor in Mandarin Chinese. Later, after completing his law school training at Harvard University, he moved to China where he began his diplomatic career with the State Department.
JOSH TYLER
– Without wasting any time, Josh began his studies at Colorado State University where he earned a degree in Electrical Engineering. He paid for his tuition by joining the Army ROTC program. Following graduation, he became a paratrooper with the 82
nd
Airborne Division. He was a 1Lt in a Ranger Battalion, stationed in Ft. Lewis Washington, on the day the twin towers fell.
MEGAN SUNDAY
– Traumatized by her kidnapping, Megan took a semester off from college and travelled around the country. Later, after she resumed her studies, she went on to complete her Bachelor’s degree in Accounting, with a minor in Criminal Justice. Six months after graduating, she began her new job at the FBI. In spite of her busy schedule, she continued to communicate with Ben via email.
ROBERT MATSON
– Shortly after wrapping up the Lucky Boys case, Robert retired. He and his wife moved to the Bahamas, where he bought a little bungalow not too far from the beach. His days were mostly consumed by fishing, sunbathing, and cooking. He also acquired a new hobby – butterfly collecting – a hobby which would have been impossible in Colorado.
♦ ♦ ♦
EDWARD BYRANT
– Every year, for the next five years, an “unofficial” obituary appeared in the newspaper on the anniversary of Edward’s death. Many in Turnbuckle suspected that it was Josh and Jerry who were paying to have this done. The obituary read simply:
“Edward Bryant. Born 4 August 1974, died 25 March 1996: Always a friend.”