Redemption U. and other Short Stories Read online

  “Yes,” I answered, “but the fellow who owns the property just went around back to survey the damage.”

  “It could have been worse. You were fortunate to discover the fire when you did. A few more minutes could have been disastrous. Weren’t you asleep?”

  Monica looked at me, puzzled, and I said, “Luckily for us the alarm rang and woke me before it got too bad.”

  The man in uniform frowned, “Do you always set your alarm for three o’clock in the morning?”

  I did a double-take. “Three o’clock? Are you sure.” I didn’t have my watch. It was still on the nightstand by the bed.

  Then I realized it was much too dark to be seven, as I had believed. Then, not giving him a chance to answer, I continued, “Is it okay to go back in there now?” I pointed up to what had been our apartment.

  He answered, “Yes, it’s safe now but I have a form that you and the landlord need to complete. Why don’t you drop down to the station house later today.” It wasn’t a question.

  I said, “Sure,” then headed for the stairs. “Right now I want to get a look at that alarm clock.”

  I was in such a hurry that, by the time I reached the last stair step I was winded. I went in, amazed that our living space had been transformed into something black and unusable. I sat on the bed, which was also smoke-blackened, but otherwise intact. I picked up the clock from the nightstand. It was covered with soot and hard to read, so I used my pajama sleeve to wipe it off. The clock read three-thirty, and the alarm dial read three o’clock!

  I fell back on the bed and began to laugh, or cry, hysterically. That’s where my family found me a few minutes later.

  The end

  NIGHTMARE IN PARADISE

  It was a cool, crisp, wintry day. Stone sat in his favorite reclining chair in front of his large bay window, peering out at the snow-capped mountains clearly visible to the east. The range was so close to their cabin, that sometimes at night he dreamt the mountains broke up and the boulders came tumbling down, engulfing and burying them in tons of rock. Other times it was lava from nearby volcanoes like Mount Rainier and Mount Baker.

  It was strange. He was never bothered by nightmarish dreams before the accident. Actually they had begun a week before the tragedy.

  His life had seemed so uncomplicated before. He and Marge had just bought the cabin. All their debts otherwise were paid. He was a junior executive who had just received a substantial raise. But lately he had been traveling around in a state of disbelief.

  It began when he noticed his wife seemed to be preoccupied with something. He had asked her about it, but she said he was being silly. There was nothing wrong.

  He’d accepted her answer at the time, but then one night, as he was leaving to catch up on some office work, as he did every Monday and Wednesday, which was normal now that he was an executive, he noticed a car parked just down the street. The street lamp on the corner near the vehicle allowed him to see that it was occupied by someone. It appeared to be a man. The vehicle was unfamiliar, but they hadn’t lived on that block long enough for him to be suspicious. It could be that the car belonged to a visitor of one of his neighbors.

  He climbed in his own car, started the engine, and drove off. He had just about reached his office building when he realized he’d left some important papers on his desk at home. He had no choice but to retrace his course. He would need that work.

  When he reached his home he noticed the car by the corner was still there, but it seemed to be unoccupied now.

  As he started up the steps to his front door, he heard voices, passionate voices, and one of them was his wife’s. He stood there listening, unbelieving. Then he stumbled back to his car, where he started the engine and drove up to the corner. He stopped there, exited his own vehicle, and checked the registration of the other car, which was hanging on the driver’s side visor. That was exactly one week before the accident.

  There had been a hearing, naturally, since someone had been killed. Stone remembered it well.

  “You say you didn’t see the man in the crosswalk, Mr. Stone?” It was the detective assigned to the case, which had only tentatively been labeled an accident.

  “That’s correct. Actually I didn’t even see the walk itself. I knew it was there somewhere, and I slowed down, but it came up on me quicker than I expected.”

  “Yes, I understand the light over the walk was broken.” And he added, “Did you know the deceased?”

  “No, I did not.” It was true.

  That seemed to satisfy the officer, because, before the day was over, he was free to go. They all, down at the station, understood what a terrible burden it was for Stone to bear. Being somewhat responsible for a death, even though there was nothing he could do, would weigh on a man, especially one as upstanding as him. Everyone assured him he was blameless.

  A kid with a new BB gun must have used the light over the crosswalk for target practice, and it was unfortunate the broken lamp wasn’t discovered sooner. It was just a twist of fate, that such a young virile man had been cut down in the prime of his life. Case closed.

  What a coincidence that the man who was killed was the one whose name was on the registration of the car Stone spotted on his street not so long ago.

  His nerves a little tight after the hearing, Stone stopped for a drink before heading home to his loving wife. In the end, one martini had stretched to four, the last two doubles, so he caught a cab home. In the back seat of the cab, he reflected on the events of the past week.

  Finding out where the man worked had not been much of a problem. He simply waited for the stranger to leave his wife, following him to his own place. The next morning Stone left for work early, but instead of going to his own place of business, he parked near the other man’s house. All he had to do was follow him, not too closely, to see where his job was.

  The part that took the most time was finding out when his quarry would leave work, and walk across the street to his car, that Stone knew so well.

  After watching his behavior pattern for three consecutive days, at the expense of his own productivity, he knew approximately what time he would find the doomed man in the crosswalk. He had already disposed of the BB gun in a nearby lake, sans fingerprints.

  On the night in question, a night when Stone normally worked late, the other man left work a few minutes earlier than normal, probably to hurry for his rendezvous with Marge Stone. It was a good five minutes before the other workers at the factory came out.

  Stone was parked nearby, his motor running. Had there been any other traffic, he would not have gone through with his plan.

  When his target stepped into the unlighted crosswalk, Stone had gunned his motor, and ran him down with precision accuracy.

  When the cab reached his home, Stone paid the driver and went into his house. His wife met him at the door with a kiss, but his mind was wandering, and he didn’t give it his full attention. Marge asked him about it, but he said, “Don’t be silly. Everything’s wonderful.”

  Silently, he wondered who her next lover would be, and how he would dispose of him.

  HOMECOMING

  David Pierce lay quietly in his upstairs room. He couldn’t understand his mother at all. She’d gotten so upset when he had asked about his father, again. They’d had the same conversation, or argument before, and would probably have it again. He couldn’t just let it go. Shouldn’t a boy even know what the man who had fathered him looks like. There were no pictures of him in the house. Most of the boys at his school had fathers at home, or they knew the circumstances of their departure. I’ve never even seen him, he pouted.

  David was nearly fourteen, and he had no idea why his mother was so secretive when he brought up the subject of his father. He and his mother had lived with his grandfather up until last month, when the older man died, leaving the big old house to his mother.

  He’d liked Grandpa Henderson, and he was sorry to see him go. David had cried like a baby when it happened. He was very a
shamed of himself since he was all grown up and wasn’t supposed to act like a child anymore. But still he cried.

  He and Grandpa never did get to go hunting like they’d planned. All that was left of his dream of a big game hunt was the twenty-two caliber rifle his Grandfather had bought him for his thirteenth birthday, and the big target out in the back yard he used to practice on. He was getting pretty good too, for all the good it did. He was so proud of the gun, that he kept it in his bedroom closet.

  “I’ll bet if my father were here he’d take me hunting, and be proud of my marksmanship,” David said aloud. Then his eyes closed and sleep began.

  Kathy Pierce couldn’t sleep that night. She had tried, but it was no use. The argument with her son was still on her mind. She’d tossed and turned for nearly an hour before rising, donning her robe and slippers, and quietly slipping downstairs for a hot cup of milk.

  She knew she shouldn’t have gotten angry with David, but she couldn’t help it. She had tried so hard all these years, almost since her boy was born, to keep him from learning about his father. Then tonight at the dinner table the casual question had caught her completely by surprise. She thought she had put that problem in the past the last time his curiosity got the better of him. Now it all came flooding back.

  Finlay Pierce II had everything in those days, everything that is except money. He and Kathy had met while they were both still in high school. His hair was jet black, and very curly, his dress and manner perfect. In spite of all that, what really dazzled Kathy were his eyes. They seemed a smoky gray, but they were actually pale blue. If she had looked a little closer, she might have seen something else in them, a hunger for too much too soon. As it was, all she saw was his athletic body, in and out of his football uniform, and what she perceived as sensuality.

  They married exactly one month after graduation. Finlay wanted to wait, but their petting had become too arduous one evening, when they were supposed to be at the movies. It soon became apparent that time had run out, and with a child on the way, Fin Pierce and Kathy Henderson were forced to become adults long before either of them were ready.

  As the birth date of little David drew near, their creditors drew nearer. Fin couldn’t hold a decent job, due in part to his young age. In addition, he had not yet learned to accept responsibility.

  He soon began running with a gang of young hoodlums. He was seldom home. Kathy knew the money he was bringing in was not legal, and the burden of guilt became too much for her. She left him and moved in with her father. Her mother had died a few years earlier, and she felt she could ease the old man’s loneliness, and do the chores normally assigned to a female, that he had been doing.

  She was convinced she still loved Fin, but he would have to change, and provide a real home for her and their child, if he was ever to get her back.

  It was Kathy’s father who waited anxiously outside the delivery room at the hospital as David Pierce was born. It was he who assumed the role of father from that time on.

  Though he never saw them, having moved out of town, Finlay Pierce II had thought of his family often through the years. He was determined that someday he would return, and claim his rightful place as head of the house-but not before he made his fortune. There’d been other women, many of them, but none could erase his memory of his beautiful Kathy.

  He longed to hold her slim five foot four body, while looking into her green eyes, which she had claimed were hazel, while kissing her full lips passionately, and wrapping his fingers in her long blonde hair. She had long since cut her hair short, but he didn’t know it.

  Now as the luxuriously appointed new Lincoln town car rolled toward his home town, he permitted himself to look back. He remembered the struggle of a day to day life, and he permitted a smile as he compared his assets of today with the liabilities of long ago. He hadn’t achieved his present status in a civilized and legal manner, but he had succeeded in his mind. That was the important thing.

  He knew that Kathy would not approve, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Surely his looks and charisma could overcome the small details. Legally they were still married, even after all these years, so he knew she must still care. Otherwise she would have divorced him long ago.

  He needed her now. Yes, and the kid too. They would make a good cover for him. The cops were looking for a man alone, and, he was sure they were searching in the wrong direction. It would figure that he was headed for Mexico, the closest border.

  According to the new broadcasts, which he monitored on his car radio, no one knew the make of car he was driving. The reports of his description were vague too. They’d captured one of his partners, and somehow obtained a confession. They must have also learned his name from that interrogation, and eventually they would have retrieved his picture from his driver’s license, but apparently that hadn’t happened yet, because the published account of what he looked like was not very accurate.

  So far he’d been able to avert attention by picking up servicemen in uniform hitching rides. He used them to get him food when he stopped, and even to pump gas. He only listened to the radio when he was alone.

  Up till then there hadn’t been a slip. The real test would come when he tried to cross the border into Canada. He would have a beard by then, and he had changed into hunting clothes, with a floppy hat.

  Maybe he and Kathy could make a go of it this time. He’d even get a job, and be legit.

  The years had been good to Finlay Pierce II, at least physically. His good looks were intact, though there was an edge of toughness to his mouth, and a slight graying at the temples. There was none of the nervous tension one might expect in a fugitive. Perhaps it was because he didn’t fully comprehend his situation.

  He was no longer in the little leagues. He had killed a man. It was unintentional. He only carried a gun at the urging of his partners. He had nothing against the man who had died. He was a night watchman at the industrial plant on the mesa just north of San Diego. He’d had no choice. They weren’t going to walk away empty-handed.

  They hadn’t been after cash, but something just as negotiable for them. It was called Cocal 70. Finlay didn’t know much about the stuff, but he did know it was expensive and was used in the production of a new miracle plastic. The discovery had been all over the news.

  The fence had been arranged well in advance of the robbery, so there was no problem in converting the haul into hard cash. All they had to do was get in, grab the material, and get out. It should have been a snap. It was just the watchman’s bad luck to come around at the wrong time.

  He must have signaled for help before they encountered him, because when they were making their escape, the cops pulled up outside in two squad cars. A chase ensued, and Finlay just excaped capture by jumping out of the Ford while it was still moving, but had slowed to make a corner.

  He was bruised up, but safe, as the cops followed the Ford. He also had the loot.

  He took a huge risk by rendezvousing with the fence, but it paid off handsomely, for he had cash in the amount of forty thousand dollars to keep him warm while he made for the Canadian border, with a brief stop in Proctor, Washington.

  As he entered the Evergreen State he thought about what was ahead. It would be easy to get lost in one of the large cities across the border, maybe Vancouver, or Victoria. He could even head east. It wasn’t as if he were broke. The haul from the robbery was stashed safely under the passenger seat of the Lincoln.

  It was after midnight when he pulled up to the curb in front of the big old gray house where he knew his family lived. He could picture Kathy when she came to the door, sleepy-eyed, and the happy expression on her face when she recognized him. He had never seen his son David. He was excited as he rang the bell. It wasn’t too late to start again. He was at the door to a very pleasant future.

  Finlay Pierce II had plenty of time to practice what he would say to his wife. She would open the door, and just stand there for a minute, before flying into his arms. He w
ould smile, and nonchalantly take her hand, leading her to the sofa. Then he would tell her he had finally realized, after all these years, his life had been empty without her. He wouldn’t mention how he had survived. Sure, he’d done some wrong, but that was all over now. He’d been offered a job with a Canadian factory, and he had been promised steady raises and a good chance for advancement. He would now be able to offer her a good life, free of worry. He would make up for all the wasted years. It might take some persuading, but he was sure he could convince her.

  Kathy Pierce couldn’t understand who would be calling at this late hour, unless it was the twenty something woman next door who was constantly losing her key, and needed help getting into her house. Yes, that must be it, she thought as she reached the base of the stairway, and opened the front door.

  She recognized him immediately. The beard and baggy clothes did nothing to change the man she remembered. The shock of seeing Finlay Pierce II after all those years was too much for her. She screamed, and then everything went black. She could feel herself falling, but she thought it was all just a bad dream, and she would awaken shortly.

  David Pierce opened his eyes. He didn’t know what woke him. He sat up in bed, feeling just a little dizzy. He was about to lay down again when he heard his mother scream.

  David was frightened. He picked up the gun, not really knowing what was happening downstairs, but he had to help his mother. He opened the door and moved from the bedroom to the hall. Two steps more and he was at the top of the stairs. Below, he saw his mother laying crumpled on the floor, a strange man bending over her. He cried out, raised the rifle, and pulled the trigger.

  Finlay Pierce II heard the noise at the top of the stairs. He lifted his head as he turned toward the sound, and started to say something. The red spot that appeared on his forehead grew larger and larger, and suddenly there was nothing that could be said.