Fly the Rain (2 page)

“
Anyway…I hope you’ll
come.”

When he hung up, he was ready to put the
call out of his mind, and make love to his wife. But Cynthia wanted
to know all about Norma and Vic and Orange and Greg’s dad.

Greg just hated bedtime phone calls.

Chapter
2

Sondra Crench kicked a roach out of her way
as she walked into her tiny apartment and sat down at her old
laptop. It was after midnight. So, she figured her new friend,
Jason, was already dead. And so were her hopes of landing a
secretarial job in time to keep her apartment. Rent was due on
Tuesday, and she had just enough money to pay it. But then she’d
have no money for food or gas or anything else.

Maybe it was time to go home for a while.
Surely she could put up with her mother for a few weeks while
looking for work.

She opened her Favorites
list and clicked on the link for
The
Orange Leader
. Sondra had not been back
to her home town in a long time, but she liked to keep up with what
was going on there. Occasionally, she’d see one of her old
classmates in a wedding announcement. Those people led
real
lives, and
held
real
jobs. As a working musician, she lived in a completely
different world. She had more in common with actresses than a
secretaries.

She checked the Classifieds. Nurses wanted.
Nope. Part-time receptionist. Not enough pay.

Then she saw a full-page ad
announcing the upcoming Grand Opening of
Billy-Eye’s Arcade and Dance Barn
. Open Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, 6:00 PM to
Midnight. For ages 12-20. Free soft drinks and popcorn. Live band.
Five bucks to get in. Only twenty-five cents for arcade games.
Sounded pretty cool for kids. She wished there had been such a
place when she was growing up there.

But what really caught her eye was the note
about auditions for a house band. It would play two hours a night,
and earn $2,000 per week. Divided by four band members…Sondra could
actually live on that! Not very well—but she could get by. And
besides, her band could do other gigs during the week to supplement
it.

Only problem: the auditions
were beginning next Friday night—and she didn’t have a band. Her
all-girl group,
Red Hot Curling
Iron
, had split up months ago. And
there was no possibility of a reunion. Not after she broke the
middle finger of her lead guitarist. But that thing would never
point at her again.

The day for audition registration was
Monday. She would go to Orange, sign up, and then put a band
together. She was so excited that she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
Maybe she’d write a song or two. Her dream of making a living as a
musician was not dead after all.

First thing in the morning, she would go by
Goldie’s Pawn Shop and get her Stratocaster and Fender amp out of
hock. Then she’d make the two-and-a-half hour drive to Orange.

**********

“
Judy, I need a another
plate of biscuits.” He scarfed down two more bacon strips, followed
by a large chunk of scrambled eggs. Billy-Eye Buttard didn’t weight
330 pounds from eating granola and yogurt. For him, it was bacon,
eggs, hash browns, grits and biscuits seven days a week.

He blamed his father for his enormous size.
If Billy Bob Buttard had gone into construction or the hardware
business, maybe his son wouldn’t have learned such bad eating
habits.

But who could resist his
father’s special recipe biscuits? Everybody in Orange loved them.
Folks would come to the restaurant and stuff themselves with them
for breakfast, and then buy a couple dozen to take home.
The Buttard Biscuit
, better known as simply
The
Biscuit
, was the most popular breakfast
spot in town.

“
You’re late.” Billy-Eye
glared at his two grown sons as they approached his booth. Because
of a ‘lazy eye’ condition that was never properly treated, he
appeared to be looking out the window with his left eye while
watching his sons with the right. It was the inspiration for a
cruel childhood nickname that stuck. His real name was William I.
Buttard. Nobody seemed to know what the ‘I’ stood for. But it must
have been something even worse than being called ‘Billy-Eye.’ “You
were supposed to be here at 6:00.”

“
Don’t blame me,” said
Lenny. “I was ready to go. But Craig wouldn’t get out of
bed.”

“
I had a date last night,”
said Craig.

“
You have a date
every
Friday night,”
said Lenny.

“
Yeah, but this one was
special.” Craig grinned proudly and winked at Lenny.

“
I don’t care,” said
Billy-Eye. “If you two are serious about being partners with me on
The Barn then you’ve got to get your act together—in a hurry.
Otherwise, I’ll just hire somebody else—somebody I can
depend
on.”

“
I’m sorry, Daddy,” said
Craig. “You’re right. It won’t happen again.”

Billy Bob had died three
months ago, leaving his son
The
Biscuit
and a nice pile of cash to
start his own venture. The restaurant brought in a good profit
every year. But that was his dad’s success. Billy-Eye wanted to
build a business of his own—from the ground up.

Judy delivered a fresh plate of biscuits.
“What will you boys be having this morning? The usual?”

Before either of them could speak, Billy-Eye
said, “They’re too late for a regular breakfast, Judy. They’ll just
be having biscuits and coffee. Thanks.”

“
Look, Boys, we’re opening
next Friday night, and we’re nowhere near ready. Craig, I need you
to take the truck over to Beaumont and pick up the popcorn machines
and those other three arcade games.”

“
I doubt either one of them
are open on Saturday.”

“
Well, if not, you can help
Lenny with the plumbing. We’ve still got three new toilets to
install in the men’s bathroom.”

Craig frowned. “Can’t you just hire a
plumber to do that?”

“
No.”

“
I know you can afford it,”
said Craig.

“
That’s not the point, Boy.
You need to get your hands dirty. So far, you don’t have a durn
thing invested in this project. And yet you expect me to make you a
partner.”

“
But you know I don’t have
any money, Daddy” said Craig.

“
That’s why you need to
invest some
labor
. Am I right?”

Craig wanted to make his fortune, and buy
his own house and a fancy car or two and a powerful speed boat. He
was 30 years old, and yet he had no education beyond high school,
no valuable skills and no assets. “Yes, Sir. Your right. I’ll do
whatever you say.”

**********

Norma handed Ralph a cup of coffee at the
kitchen table. Then she sat down across from him and began to make
notes in her spiral notebook.

“
Thanks, Honey.” He took a
sip and picked up the newspaper. Then he lowered it just enough to
see her over the top. “Now, you promised you wouldn’t make a big
fuss.”

“
I’m not.”

“
Just a few friends,
right?”

“
And Ed, of course,” she
said.

“
Good.” He returned to his
paper for only a moment. “What about Greg? You didn’t invite
him
, did
you?”

“
Well…he
is
your son.”

“
Norma! You know I don’t
want to see him. And he don’t want to see me.”

“
Well, I just thought I’d
let
him
decide. How do you know he wouldn’t want to come? It’s your
75th birthday. It’s special.”

“
I ain’t got no use for that
holier-than-thou do-gooder. He thinks I’m the Devil. And maybe I
am. But I don’t need
him
telling me so.”

“
No, of course you’re not
the Devil. And maybe he’s changed. How would you know? You haven’t
talked to him in…how many years?”

“
It don’t matter, Norma.
He’ll never change. He’s been that way ever since that preacher got
a hold of him. Barbara thought church would be good for him, so she
started taking him. But by the time he was a teenager, I couldn’t
hardly stand to be around the kid. I was glad when he went off to
college. We finally had some peace in the house. Then Barbara had
her accident…”

“
I know. He should have been
sympathetic. But instead, he blamed you. I remember.”

“
I’ll never forgive him for
that.”

“
Oh, I don’t know. I think
you could—if he’d meet you halfway.”

He reached across the table and gently held
her hand. “Look, Honey, I know you always want everything to turn
out right, and for everybody to be happy. But believe me, it just
ain’t gonna happen.”

“
He’s got a new wife, you
know. Her name is Cynthia. You might really like her.”

He released her hand. “Not
if she’s anything like that
first
wife of his.”

“
And what if they have kids?
You’d want to see your
grandkids
, wouldn’t
you?”

He picked up the newspaper and pretended to
read it.

“
Of course you would. And so
would I.”

Ralph Tenorly looked over at his new wife
and longtime friend. He could see how much she wanted
grandchildren. Norma and her first husband, Vic, had never been
able to have kids. “Okay. I don’t care. He can come if he wants
to.”

Norma smiled.

“
But don’t get your hopes
up.”

Chapter
3

The pews were packed at First Baptist
Church, Coreyville. As part-time music minister of the church, Greg
Tenorly sat in his usual place on the podium, behind and slightly
to the left of the pastor. He wondered why attendance was up. It
was a perfect day—seventy degrees, sunny. That had to be part of
the reason. And the sermon title was ‘Forgiveness Fighters.’ People
would much rather hear a sermon about forgiveness than one about
Hell.

Everybody wanted to be forgiven. But when it
came to forgiving others—many people fight it. The pastor said
these folks were the Forgiveness Fighters. He read a scripture
passage.

Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how
oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven
times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven
times: but, Until seventy times seven.

When Greg heard these
verses, which he knew by memory, it was like a slap in the face.
How many times had he already forgiven his father? But he knew that
‘seventy times seven’ did not mean literally 490 times. The number
‘seven’ in the Bible symbolized completeness. It meant forgiving
an
unlimited
number of times. But how could Greg ever forgive his father
for killing his mother?

Maybe if Greg had been there it wouldn’t
have happened. But he had moved out of the house during his first
semester at Lamar University—even though it was only forty minutes
away, in Beaumont. A fellow music major had been more than happy to
let Greg share the little rent house and the expenses.

Ralph Tenorly had sent his wife to the
grocery store for more chips and dip. The big game was already
starting, and there were no snacks in the house. But on her way
back home, a pickup truck blew through a stop sign, crashing into
the driver’s side of the car. Barbara was killed instantly.

Couldn’t Ralph have done without the stupid
chips and dip? Or driven to the store himself?

Greg knew he needed to
forgive his father. The instructions from the Bible were clear. And
he
would
forgive him. But not today.

**********

“
What did you think of the
sermon, Mom?” Cynthia asked her the question every week.

“
Very good,” said Beverly.
“It’s so important to forgive people. Holding grudges will just eat
you up inside.”

Cynthia nodded in agreement.

Greg acted as though he wasn’t
listening—looking around to see if he knew anybody standing in
line. Luby’s Cafeteria was always crowded at this time of day, when
the church people arrived. “I’m going to have the fried Cod
today.”

“
I love their fried fish,”
said Beverly.

“
Yeah. It’s got that crunchy
coating,” said Greg. “That’s what makes it so good.”

“
It’s pretty fattening
though,” said Cynthia. “You could get the broiled fish
instead.”

“
That’s okay. I don’t eat it
very often,” said Greg, holding in his stomach.

They slowly made their way up to the food,
filled their trays, and found a table. Once Greg had said a prayer
of blessing, they began to eat.

“
Greg and I have been
invited to his dad’s 75th birthday party,” said Cynthia. “But he
and his dad are not on speaking terms.”

“
That’s why he didn’t come
to the wedding?” said Beverly.

“
Right,” said
Cynthia.