Letter to Belinda (17 page)

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Authors: Tim Tingle

BOOK: Letter to Belinda
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Now she was left with seven buckets of excess gravel to do something with. She knew she couldn’t leave them there, so she labored to carry them up the ladder, out of the pool, and to the big gravel pile over beside the fence, where she dumped them. No one would ever know that she had done this, because there was a lot of gravel there already. With all seven buckets disposed of, she again made sure the gravel in the bottom of the pool was level, then rolled out the plastic, just like it had been before she started. Then she took a few of the steel reinforcement rods and laid over it, to hold down the plastic. There, just like she had found it! No one would suspect a thing. In fact, the body would probably still be frozen the next day when the cement was poured.

She climbed out of the pool, and returned to the back porch, where there was still a big garbage bag of frozen vegetables sitting on the porch. She opened the freezer and threw the bag back inside, before it thawed. When she got back from Georgia, she would probably clean up the freezer, and donate it, along with the frozen vegetables to some charity, like the Jimmy Hale Mission. She certainly had no intention of using it herself, knowing what had once been in it!

She went and turned off the contractor’s generator, and the lights died, and blessed silence returned to the river. She wanted to stand on her deck and savor the deliciously beautiful night, and the fact that that cursed body had been disposed of, but she had no time. She had to get busy. She had to shower, and change clothes, and then she had three hours of driving ahead of her.

12
 

I
t turned into a four hour wait for the plane to arrive. There was no explanation given for the delay, but British Airways apologized for it, and distributed vouchers so their passengers could eat dinner at any of the concourse restaurants. It was almost 7 P.M. when they were finally told that they were about to board. It would be a six hour flight, and would be around 9 A.M London time when arrived at Heathrow Airport. This meant that Sunday was going to be a long, long day, and they needed to sleep as much as possible on the trans-Atlantic flight. Drew wanted to see the sights as they flew, but they were quickly over the dark ocean and there was nothing to see.

Lois was seated next to Mrs. Parker, so they talked long into the evening after everyone had eaten, and then settled in for a nap. And a short nap it would be, as they were flying east, and crossing many time zones. The morning of the new day would break very quickly.

Travis woke when Drew asked him if he wanted breakfast. He opened his eyes to see the breakfast cart beside him.

“Just coffee for me, and a cup of ice.” He held his cup as the stewardess poured it full of steaming coffee. He silently stirred in the cream and sugar, as Drew ate a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast and orange juice. He looked at his watch. It was actually about 2 A.M., Alabama time, but he knew by the rising sun, that it was probably about 7 A.M. where they were, about an hour from London. Having dissolved the cream and sugar, Travis added the ice to cool it off. Drew watched him with interest.

“Why do you do that, Dad?”

“Why do I do what?”

“Why do you fix up your coffee, then cool it off with ice? I have noticed you doing that all my life, but I never knew why. You don’t like it hot?”

“I can’t drink it hot. I thought you knew the reason why. I thought my whole family knew why. Your mother never told you?”

“No one ever told me why.”

“I guess I just assumed that everyone knew. The reason is that I only have about half the intestines that everyone else have, so I can’t drink any hot beverage.”

Drew waited, thinking he would continue the explanation, but it didn’t come, so he asked. “What happened to your intestines, or were you born that way?”

Travis thought it was incredible that Janice had not told them about his reason for not drinking hot beverages, so he explained. “When I was in Vietnam, I was wounded five times.”

“Yeah, I saw your five Purple Hearts, and all those other medals.”

“Well, the last time I was wounded, I almost didn’t make it. My intestines were blown all over the place. The field surgeons did well to save what they did. As a result, I can’t drink hot beverages. I know that’s giving you a short answer, but you probably don’t want to hear the details.”

Or
he
doesn’t
want
to
give
the
details,
Drew thought. “Actually Dad, I’d love to hear the details!”

“Believe me, you don’t want to hear them while you’re eating breakfast.”

“Probably not, but later maybe. Why don’t you put all those medals in a frame, and hang them on the wall?”

“The sock drawer is good enough. I know where they are, in case anyone wants to see them. Each one represents things that I would rather forget.”

Drew suspected that there were old demons lurking below the surface, so he changed the subject.

“So this is Sunday morning already?”

“Yeah, we lost some sleep coming over here, but we’ll gain it back when we return, next Sunday.”

“When is your first book signing?”

“I’m not sure. I’m supposed to call the Jester Books representative tonight, after I get to the hotel. I hope they will give me enough time off to enjoy this trip. I’ve never been to England before either.”

“Where will you be doing your book signings?”

“At large book stores, like Books-a-Million, or Barns & Noble’s, only it will be British book stores. I have a letter here from Jester that tells.” He took a folded paper from his shirt pocket and read from it. “Ever heard of Borders, Blackwell’s or Waterstone’s?”

“I have heard of Borders, but not the other two.”

“According to this letter, from the Jester promotions department, I will do signings at three Borders locations, one in London, one in Manchester, and one in Dover. I’ll also do a Waterstone’s, and Blackwell’s, both in London. These have no dates, but I assume they will coincide with the days that we will be visiting those places.”

“So, how famous will you be in England, because of this book?”

“I won’t be famous at all. Hardly anyone keeps up with this sort of thing.”

“But you said it was up to #3 on the English Bestsellers List.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. That was two weeks ago. I’ve probably dropped completely off the list by now. I just want to help boost my book’s popularity, so that I can get a good contract on my next book.”

As Travis was finishing his cup of coffee, Fred Cunningham came doddering down the aisle with a newspaper under his arm.

“How are you making it Travis?”

“Doing good, Fred. I slept a couple of hours. Maybe that will help.”

“Yes, we’ve got a long day ahead of us. What about you, Drew? Did you get any sleep?”

“Not a bit. I’m too excited!”

“Well, you’re young. You can get by with less sleep. Try not to think about the fact that it’s like, 3 A.M. back at home! Oh, by the way, Travis, the reason I came to see you. Did you see the London Times?”

“I looked at the headlines, not much more.”

“So you didn’t get back to the business section? Here, check this out. I’m getting dizzy, so I’m going back to my seat. And congratulations!” He handed Travis a section of the London Times, and returned to his seat.

“Congratulations for what?” Travis asked, and Fred just smiled at him. Travis put down his coffee cup and opened the paper. He saw nothing unusual, until he opened to page 5, and there was a picture of him!

“That’s the photo out of the back of my book!”

“What does the paragraph under the photo say?”

“It says: ‘The #1 best-selling author in The Isles this week is actually an American. Travis Lee’s Horror/Thriller, ‘The Relic’ (published by Jester Books) ascended to the top spot this week, and seems destined to stay there awhile, amid rumors that Lee will be personally autographing his book at five of England’s largest Booksellers. His appearances will be:

(1) Monday, 2 P.M. at the Borders Store at Piccadilly Circus.

(2) Tuesday, 12 Noon, at the Borders Store in Manchester.

(3) Thursday, 10 A.M. at Waterstone’s Booksellers, SE Trafalgar Square.

(4) Thursday, 5 P.M. at Blackwell’s Books, NW Huntington St.

(5) Friday, 7 P.M at Borders Store in Dover.’

“Wow. Sounds like they plan on keeping me busy. They have me wrapped up on Thursday. Two book signings on the same day.”

“And your book is now the #1 bestseller, according to this. Congratulations, Dad!”

“I don’t know what to say. I never really thought it would go this far. I just wish it would make the Best-sellers List in the U.S.”

“Isn’t this just as well?”

“In some ways, it could be even better, I guess. I have heard that the British book market is a microcosm of the U.S. market.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means that if it does well here, it will also do well in the U.S. I need to save this, and let your mother see it.”

“Knowing Mom, she’ll want to frame it and hang it on the wall.”

“That will be okay too. I’ve worked hard at my writing, and I’m not above bragging a little. But I am still a little bewildered that it’s made it to the #1 spot.” Travis could imagine a reporter asking him the question,
‘Mr.
Lee,
to
what
do
you
attribute
your
success?’
And he would have to answer:
‘A
bogus
article
in
‘Whisperings’
Magazine.’

13
 

T
hey landed without incident, and followed the signs to Customs, then met their tour group leader, who helped them to gather their luggage, then ushered them to a waiting tour bus. The mood was almost somber, as most of the group members were feeling the effects of jet lag.

The streets of London were wet with recent rain. The tour guide was a girl with blue dyed hair, who was even less enthusiastic about the tour than her sleepy Americans. Still, they followed a pre-determined route through the city that would give the guests a brief sample of the sights to see in London. The Parliament building, St. Paul’s Cathedral, The British Museum, the Tower Bridge, The Tower of London, but the light rain streaked the windows, and prevented the few who were still awake from taking pictures.

Travis was one of the few still awake, and he was nodding off. Drew was awake, but groggy. Lois and Mrs. Parker were sound asleep. Professor Foust, who had not slept a wink on the plane, thanks to his constant worry, was snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Finally Professor Cunningham interrupted the monotone tour guide.

“Listen, young Lady, please don’t think that we are not grateful for the tour. We want to see all these things in time, but we just came off a red-eye flight, and even the hardiest travelers among us are exhausted. Could we please just cut this tour short, and go to the hotel?”

“Yes, I suppose so. I feel that I am lecturing to myself anyway!”

“Look around this bus. I think you really are. Please don’t take offense it’s just that we are very tired.”

“No offense taken. Peter, take us to the Royal National South.”

“Yes, Mum.” The driver said.

Ten minutes later, they stopped in front of the Royal National Hotel South. Fred had to go down the aisle and literally shake some of the students awake to get them off the bus. They identified their luggage, then went into the lobby to be given their keys and room assignments. Fred also made an announcement.

“Listen up, everyone. Please do not go to your rooms and sleep like zombies, as much as you would like to. In order for us to adjust to the time difference, and thus, enjoy the rest of our trip, we must stay awake as much as possible the rest of the day today, and sleep tonight. Here is what I suggest, It is now almost 9 A.M. Go and put your things up in your rooms, and take a quick nap. Set your alarms, if you must, but get back up at noon. We will all meet in the dining room here at the hotel at 12:30 for lunch. Then we will give out your Subway Passes, and the rest of the day, you will be free to explore London on your own. Our formal tour itinerary will begin tomorrow. So, everyone synchronize your watches. It is now exactly 8:56 A.M. I repeat, everyone meet in the dining area at 12:30, and remember to bring your room key, as it will be your pass to eating lunch for free. Now, scatter, my children!”

Everyone dispersed, but as they did so, Steve ran to Fred, obviously concerned.

“Did I hear you say that after lunch, we are going to just turn everyone loose on London?”

“That’s right, Steve.”

“What if they get lost?”

“There are city maps in their rooms.”

“But these are just
kids!

“They are
college
kids
for the most part, and I am sure they will probably hang out in groups of two or more. And some might even want to hang out with us, unless we insist on treating them like children! Chill out, Steve! This is vacation time for all of us. Relax and enjoy it!”

Steve was too tired to put up an argument, so he went on to his room, but he was sure to protest again at lunch.

Travis approached Fred. “Can we get our subway passes now, if we want them?”

“Oh? Too tired to make it to lunch?”

“No, I want to go ahead and use them, to go to Hyde Park.”

“That’s fine, as long as you can get back by 12:30. I’ll be giving out some valuable information at lunch, so you might want to be there.” He opened a manila envelope and gave him three subway passes.

“I think we’ll be back by then.”

Travis, his Mom, and Drew were sharing the same room, so they went up on the elevator together.

“How are you making it so far?” he asked his Mom.

“I’m okay. Just a little tired. I’ll be better once I rest a little.”

“The jet lag has got everybody tired. But we should be recovered by tomorrow. The rest of today might be rough.”

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