Full Tilt (Rock Star Chronicles) (8 page)

A RIBBON OF ORANGE
sunlight brushed across the gray canvas of the eastern horizon the morning after Millie died. It was cold and brittle, and Everett prayed for Karen as he watched her tiny silhouette far out on the ridge. Arms crossed, head down, she kicked up one slow step after another. It seemed to him she was trying to reach the warmth of the sun, maybe to disappear into that painting.

Everett stood in the frozen yard amid what remained of the broken pieces of the wooden manger scene and Millie’s splattered blood. As he searched for Millie’s missing dog tag amid the debris, Everett noticed Eddie staring out the guest room window.

The Bedford police had come and gone fifteen minutes earlier, filing a report about the white Yukon and promising to patrol the area more frequently. It wasn’t until Everett looked more closely at the manger remnants that he made a peculiar discovery. One figure was missing completely: the baby Jesus.

After scanning the property, the police pointed out to Everett and Eddie that footprints were in the snow adjacent to the house, beneath several windows. Two people who’d been wearing boots.

Looking out at Karen, Everett’s spirit became as gray as the morning. A depression he used to know so well fought to resurrect itself. Once again, guilt climbed onto his shoulders and camped there. Millie’s death, his brother’s troubles, strangers meddling in their lives—it all brought Karen grief. A grief she’d seldom known before she hooked up with the black sheep rocker.

Everett’s bloodline, his past, was nothing but sin and darkness. Sometimes he couldn’t shake the lie that God was punishing him for his rebellious years. He knew it wasn’t true, but in his weaker moments, he entertained such thoughts.

“Sorry about all this.” Eddie sauntered up in the snow wearing sweats and an old winter jacket of Everett’s.

“It’s not your fault.” Everett had one hand in his coat pocket and the other clutching a mug of lukewarm coffee.

“I hope not. I don’t know why they would have followed me here, after they just beat the tar out of me.”

“Who knows. I’ll go with you today to pay what you owe.”

“Do you know who may have done this?” Eddie asked.

“No. I just feel bad for Karen. I’ve brought so much baggage into her life.”

“She’s a wonderful woman.”

“Way beyond anything I deserve. Every once in a while I feel like if I truly loved her, I would have let her go.”

“That’s crazy, man.”

“I’m serious. Ever since she and I hooked up, there’s been trouble. Her house burning down in Kansas, her kidnapping—”

“But that’s all behind you guys. Zane Bender’s gonna spend the rest of his life in the big house.”

“I’m sure he has friends.”

“His friends would have done worse harm than this.” He kicked a piece of the broken manger scene. “Maybe this was some freaks on a joyride. They had one too many—”

“They sliced Millie’s neck! And why were they looking in our windows?”

“Who knows, man. Maybe they used to be fans.”

These were fans? These barbarians?

Everett walked a few steps toward Karen and stared out at her. “She doesn’t deserve this…nastiness. You and I are used to this kind of stuff, but not her.”

Eddie walked toward his brother. “Why is life so hard, Ev?”

The question surprised Everett like the ring of a hotel wake-up call. Here was a desperate man—his own brother—plumbing the depths of life and eternity itself, and all Everett could do was wallow in his own self-pity.

“I think it’s hard because God wants us to rely on Him.” He examined Eddie’s bandaged face. “He doesn’t care about a lot of the stuff we think is important, like big houses and cars and money. He doesn’t think like we do. What’s important to Him is that we understand how much He loves us. He lost a Son, too, you know? He knows your grief.”

Eddie motioned toward Karen. “Oh, so He causes us trouble and pain to force us onto His team? He kills our sons in car wrecks and makes our kids rebellious? He ruins our marriages and hooks us on gambling? That
stinks!
”

Everett frowned, shook his head, and forced himself to keep his cool. “Dude, I know where you’re coming from. But listen to me: God didn’t cause that stuff to happen—”

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Eddie interrupted. “He allowed it. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that what you Christians believe? Everything goes through His fingers first. Why? That’s all I wanna know—why have we suffered so much…loss?”

“Bro, just hear me, okay? I understand your anger and doubts. But I want to ask you something. Could it be those are the wrong questions?”

Eddie stuck an immovable finger into Everett’s chest. “If you don’t ask those questions, then you’re just plain ignorant! Christians talk about this loving God, but they have no explanation whatsoever for all the carnage and heartache in this world.” Eddie turned his back and stomped off.

“Look at me,” Everett said.

When he jerked around, Eddie’s bandaged face was scrunched up in a scowl, his mouth sealed shut.

“Could it be that when calamity happens in this world, in our lives, that maybe God wants us to ask ourselves, are we ready to meet our Maker—the God who holds everything together?”

Eddie huffed away, kicking the snow, reminding Everett of their father’s temper.

“He
is
a loving God. Look at the patience He had with me. All my addictions and rebellion. All the women I used. All the people I led astray. But He waited for me, dude. He drew me to Himself. And God’s being patient with you, too, Eddie—”

“Oh, I’m loving every minute of it, believe me.”

“But you’re here, aren’t you? You’re alive. I know your world’s been shaken to the core. I know David’s gone. But you’re here with me, today—right now. Are you ready to meet Him—face-to-face?”

Eddie charged back, squaring off with Everett. “Let me ask
you
a question. Is my son in hell?”

The wind left Everett. “Eddie—”

“You see, brother, if I believe the way you do, I lose, any way you slice it.”

“I feel responsible for David—”

“Nothin’ you can do about it now.”

“I can still help you and Sheila, and Madison and Wesley.”

“Look, Ev, I love you.” Their eyes connected. “But frankly, our family—what’s left of it—has no interest in God, at least not the one you so blindly insist on serving. That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends and stay close. I want that. And I appreciate your help last night and with the money I owe. But—”

“He’s also a God of judgment, Eddie.” Everett splashed what was left of his cold coffee onto the snow and stared down at it. “Did you ever think your family might be in the condition it’s in because you’ve made bad choices?”

“Who do you think you are!”

“Just someone who’s found a better way.”

“Yeah. The
only
way, according to you.”

“It’s true, Eddie. We’re each going somewhere when we die—heaven or hell. I just want you to understand that the only way to heaven—to the Father—is through the Son.”

“Look, I told you I believe in a higher power. Can’t that be good enough for you? Geez.”

“Not if that higher power isn’t Christ.”

“Well it’s not, okay! You’re so narrow-minded, Everett. I’ll serve my god, my way!”

“That is such a cop-out, Eddie. I know, because all my life I was the king of cop-outs. Who are you to make up your own god and your own truth?”

Eddie exhaled heavily. “Thanks for the Sunday school lesson, brother.” He set his face to the wind and headed for the house. “If you need help burying Millie, let me know.”

The ground out on the ridge was almost frozen. Everett and Karen had dug Millie’s grave for thirty minutes, mostly in silence.

“Would you please let me finish this myself?” he asked.

“I need to do it.” Karen continued digging, red-cheeked, runny-nosed, and resolute on finishing the task.

“I can’t find the baby Jesus figure from the manger scene.” He pounced on his shovel with all his weight. “I guess they took it.”

Karen sniffed and continued breaking up the softer dirt that he had already loosened below the hard surface.

After several more minutes of working, Everett rested both hands on his shovel handle and looked back at the house, perhaps a half mile away. It was tiny in the distance, and something he never thought he would share with such a precious partner.

After all, he was a renegade. He’d grown up neglected by his mother and in utter fear of his abusive father. His soul had once been a bastion of bile and transgression, pride and rebellion. Clearly, he did not deserve a woman of grace like Karen, nor was he worthy of God’s forgiveness. Yet he had them—both. And he found himself breathing thanks to God with every fiber of his unworthy being.

Other than the slight whistle of the breeze, it was winter quiet, muffled, as if they were in their own secluded little piece of world.

Everett stared back at the spot where he’d had the awkward conversation with Eddie. Millie was still in the trunk of the Honda. It was going to be a long walk to get her out to the ridge. Rosey lay nearby, with her pretty head between her paws on the ground in front of her, raising a dark eyebrow every now and then. It grieved Everett to think about how much she and Karen were going to miss their friend.

“We can get another partner for Rosey if you want, honey,” Everett said. “Maybe a puppy—or an adult who needs a home.”

“Why would they take the baby Jesus?” Karen attacked the dark soil.

“I don’t know.”

She squinted up at him. “Are the murderers connected with your brother?”

“I doubt it. So does Eddie.”

“Well…do you have any other explanation? Who did this!” she yelled. “
Why?”
She went back at the dirt with a vengeance—a side of her Everett had never seen.

“I just don’t know, honey. Maybe it was some drugged-out DeathStroke fans.” That haunting feeling crept up on him.
You’re paying for your past. And now, so is she.
“I’m sorry.”

The craving for booze came so strong and sudden, it actually took his breath away.
You should have let her go.

Karen was down in the hole now, sweating and out of breath, throwing shovelful after shovelful onto the growing mound of earth beside the grave.

“Is this deep enough?” The sound of her voice snapped him out of it.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “That’ll be fine.”

“I want to get a gravestone for her.” Her angry front melted, and Karen dropped to the edge of the hole, her shovel falling, her anguish bursting forth in a flood of tears.

Everett jumped into the twenty-five-inch hole and nestled next to her. “I’m sorry, babe.”

He got only a glimpse of her pink cheeks and wet upper lip before she buried her face in his chest.

“We can’t have children, Ev,” came her muffled cry.

“Now, darlin’, this isn’t gonna to stop us from having little Lesters. I know it’s been—”

“I can’t have babies!” She shook her head against his chest as she clung to him. “Because of the abortion. I found out yesterday.”

The silence pounded in his ears.
She must be wrong. We’ll fix it…

“What are you saying?” He pried her away so he could look her in the eyes. “Tell me! What’s going on?”

“I wanted to—ever since the appointment.” She moaned. “There hasn’t been time! I wanted you to tell me about the concert, then Eddie called—”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” He stroked her cheek, backtracking to the day before and counting the hours she’d held in the news. “What’d the doctor say?”

“When I had the abortion.” She had to catch her breath. “I had an infection in my womb and Fallopian tubes. The doctor said it was nothing—”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“Let me finish!” she cried. “I was young enough, he said, there’d be plenty of time to heal. That’s why I never mentioned it. It was nothing…”

“But the doctor—”

“Yesterday, the ob-gyn said there are adhesions on my Fallopian tubes; she thinks they’re shut for good. I’m infertile!”

“We’ll get a second opinion.” But the discussion with Eddie flooded back to him. And somehow he knew this was God’s plan. It was cold and dreadful. But it was the hand they were being dealt. Now, he would be forced once again to walk further and deeper in the blind faith he’d just tried to explain to his brother.

Karen lurched out of the hole and ran from Everett. Ten yards out, her body went limp with the siege of emotion, folding to the ground like a wilting flower. “Millie’s dead. My womb is dead. My dream is
dead
! I’m not going to be able to have your children.”

Everett rushed to her side as she pounded the dirt with her fists. “What did I do to deserve this?”

He couldn’t help but think,
You married me.

Rosey approached her, whimpering and nudging her wet nose against Karen’s coat.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Everett said. “I’m so sorry. I should have asked more about the appointment. I’m so dang selfish.”

Karen shuddered at his words, the tears streaming down her anguished face. “I wanted to tell you. I wanted you there with me…”

Everett squeezed her tightly, pressing his cheek against the top of her head.
How long is this angel of a woman going to put up with a loser like me?

Karen insisted on accompanying Everett to bury Millie. The dog was still wet, heavy, and stiffening. Although Everett had contemplated driving the tractor with Millie in the trailer, he decided not to mention the idea to Karen; she would want it to be more personal.

Karen covered the dog in a navy blanket and helped guide Everett as he carried the body all the way down and up the rolling hills that led to the ridge. Once Everett, out of breath and on his knees, gently laid the collie in the oval-shaped hole, Karen used one of the shovels to chop and jab the dirt that would cover the dog—making sure it was fine, like powder—no stones. Everett helped.

They covered their beloved collie with the soft dirt until there was a small mound slightly above ground level. Karen marked the grave with three large rocks they’d found nearby.