Rollin’ that apple

    “Dad!” Evie called as she walked through the door, grocery bags in hand. She went to the kitchen and started fixin’ breakfast. 

     “Mornin’ humming bird,” Jack kissed her on the cheek before refillin’ his coffee cup. “That boy joinin’ us?”

     She smiled, “not this mornin’.”

     He sat at the table, “why do you always bring grub?”

     “Just helpin’ out dad. Would you like me to stop?”

     “I got a few dollars you know.”

     “I know. Can’t I spoil my dad?”

     He held up his cup, “rurn me.” Setting it softly back on the table. “What do you remember about Carl and Rose?”

     She looked at her dad quizzically for a moment. “For Dillon’s sake, I despise them. Carl was a smelly drunk. Rose seemed stoned all the time. I don’t know if she really was or if she had just checked out of life.”

     “Found out recently that Dillon got blamed for his maw’s shape.”

     Her heart sank, “are you kidden?” He shook his head sadly. “We both knew they were mean to him.”

     Jack slammed his fist on the table. Causing Evie to jump. “I should’ve fought harder for him.”

     “Dad, if it makes you feel any better, Dillon told me; crappy as it was, he wouldn’t change his childhood.” Jack looked dumbfounded. “Honestly. He said he wouldn’t be the man he is right now.”

     Jack sighed, “he has grown into a respectable man. He’s done great things with the sheriff’s office. Did you know, he got a governors award for how clean he runs that office?”

     “No, he never told me that.”

     “Yelp. He was asked to head up some high-fluten drug task force but he turned it down.”

     “By the governor?” Jack just shrugged. Evie handed him a plate. “Wait a minute, he got pensive when I used a word that he didn’t know. Referrin’ to it as one of my,” she used air quotes, “‘college words.’ And here the man is gettin’ honored left and right for being a rock star sheriff.”

     “The people of Sunshine Valley really don’t like him. But they keep votin’ for him because they know he does right. He will write you a ticket just the same as he would anyone. He has proven to us that he doesn’t play favorites. Unless som’em bad happens, he can be sheriff as long as he wants it. There’s a rumor in the mill that he’s groomin’ Bradley. Sad part is, people think Bradley is a pushover. It’s this old man’s opinion that Bradley won’t win an election.” He sighed. 

That apple kept on rollin’

     After Lilly died, Jack moved closer to town. The house where he and Lilly raised Evie (and half raised Dillon) had too many memories. The little area he moved to was closer to town and people. Widow Blake was one of his neighbors. There was a little park close to the houses. Many of his neighbors would gather there on pretty days. 

     That’s where Dillon found Jack; sittin’ on a bench feeding the birds. 

     Jack didn’t look up from his task as Dillon approached, “join me boy.”

     “Yes sir.” Dillon sat down with a heavy sigh. The birds fluttered a little. But came back to the promise of more bread. 

     “What brangs you my way?”

     Dillon watched him before he answered. Jack had a loaf of bread. He would take a slice out of the bag, tear pieces off, and with the soft flick of his wrist, toss the bread to the ground. “How much do you remember about my mom?”

     “How my Lily loved her.” Jack sighed. “I wish she was here to answer that for you.” He handed Dillon a slice of the bread.

     “Thank you.” He took it following Jack’s lead. The birds spread out a little but soon more birds appeared, fillin’ in the gaps. 

     “When we were yungons,” he stopped. Thinkin’. “Your daddy thought Rose was the purdiest girl in Sunshine Valley. He knew that my old man made shine. He asked me to pinch a bottle so he would have a reason to ask Rose out.” Jack laughed, “I did. He did. But Rose wouldn’t go unless Lily went. And, I was struck on Lily. As they say, the rest is history.” Dillon didn’t respond. When Jack turned his head, Dillon seemed to be mindlessly tossing bread pieces. “Why do you ask?”

     “I don’t ever remember mom being happy. Mostly being in a stupor. Lost. Lifeless.” He wasn’t sure how to continue. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Jack. Jack put his hand on Dillon’s arm. He looked up, locking eyes with the old man. “I am terrified that when Evie and I get married, she will become like mom. I don’t know if I could handle her becomin’ a shell of who she is.”

     “Your mom changed when they came back from the big city. That’s when your daddy started drankin’. The harder he hit the bottle, the more like a ghost she became. At first, she would spend hours cryin’ to Lily about it. They tried to dry him out.” Jack softly shook his head. 

     “What part did I play in that?” Jack gave him a confused look. “Some women get postpartum depression after a child is born.” 

     “Who told you you caused your mom to turn?”

     “I heard it all my life.”

     Jack scoffed, “not true.” He pointed at Dillon. “Your daddy turned her.” Jack smiled, “my Evie has been through a lot. I know. You just keep lovin’ her and she will love you.” He looked down at the birds. “Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?”

     “Matthew 6:26-34.” Dillon commented. 

     “God’s got both of you. Trust him. 

Business

     After church on Wednesday night, once a month, church members that wanted too could stay after service for a business meeting. 

     Rebecca poured over a copy of the bank statement. There was a deposit of $6,545.00. Rebecca broke the silence, “Pastor, what’s this $6,000.00 deposit for?”

     “I gave Ms Evelyn my wife’s car. She insisted on making a donation to the church for the blue book value of the car.”

     “Can we give the money back?” A murmur filled the sanctuary. 

     “Why?” Widow Blake choaked.

     “You have proof to back this up?” 

     Pastor Sam looked shocked. “Proof?”

     “I mean, you are taking her word for it that this was truly the value of the car? What are we expected to do with that money, supply Narcan to Coal Town?”

     Patty chimed in, “Narcan is free.”

     Pastor Sam lowered his head, “it has been a long time since the church has had an emergency fund. Covid did a number on our finances. I just wanted to leave the money in the bank. We never know when  something devastating is going to happen. It would be a great source of comfort to know that we have some cushion.”

     “$6,000.00 wouldn’t replace anything. Are we sure we didn’t get stiffed?”

     Pastor Sam was getting annoyed. “The car was my gift to her. Free and clear, separate from the church. It was her choice to provide the church with a gift.”

     “Who has almost $7,000.00 just lying around? I really don’t think we need to be accepting tithes or gifts for that matter from non-Christian gains. What if she’s a provider on a porn site? Do we want sin money in coffers?”

     “Sin money,” Bradley jumped to his feet. 

     Simon hung his head in shame. 

     “We don’t know what she does for a livin’. Everyone in this room right now, we know what they do for a livin’. Simon runs a handy man business.” Simon shivered at the mention of his name. “Bradley, you are a deputy. Your wife is an e.r. nurse. Your daughter is a teacher in Perkinsville. Widow Blake was a homemaker. Her husband worked at the mill with Jack. Pastor Sam is a preacher. Sara, you are a clerk at the hippy grocery. Della runs a restaurant and Bill owns a barber shop. I don’t think it’s too much to ask where her money comes from. I, for one, don’t want this church to get investigated over dirty money.”

     Jack stood. He was visibly shaking, “dirty money.”

     “She said at dinner in the park that her and her ex-husband had the big house, nice cars, went on lavish vacations and could afford to fly her parents out to her wedding. Where do you get that kind of money? The kind where you can kick ‘Atlas in the balls’. I just think,” she shrugged. “We need to cover ours. Give the money back.”

     “What if she’d had offered to give that money to you?” Jack asked. “Who wouldn’t want almost $7,000.00? I reckon it would fix a lot of the far damage to your house.” He shuffled out of the sanctuary.

     Widow Blake stood, “I make a motion we keep the money in savings for an emergency fund.”

     Bradley, who was already standing said, “I second that.”

     “All in favor by a show of hands.” Pastor Sam and everyone in the room except Rebecca and Simon raised their hands. “Those against.” Only Rebecca raised her hand. She kicked Simon’s foot. 

     He didn’t move. At first, he rose staring at his wife, “this is what we should have done when this church body wanted Ms Evelyn to be their choir director. We should have taken up for her instead of pushin’ her away.” He followed Jack outside, leaving a shocked Rebecca sitting there. 

This mess

     Evie was shocked to see Dillon pullin’ in her drive way. He wasn’t scheduled to be off work for another 5 hours. He didn’t get out. As she got her phone to call him, he slowly walked toward her house. She knew in an instant something was wrong. 

     He didn’t speak as she let him in. When she looked at him, it was obvious he had been crying. He was shaking and something told her it wasn’t from the cold. There he stood in her living room like a marble statue. 

     After several minutes he squeezed out, “I am so very sorry. From the depths of my soul.” He sank to his knees. 

     With a gentle touch, she caressed his face, “for what?”

     He couldn’t contain his emotions anymore and between sobs – blubbered, “it’s all my fault.” With all his might, he tried to bury his face in her shoulder. 

     “What is ‘all your fault’?” 

     “Did he follow you here when you came back for my dad’s funeral? Did he see something back then that we didn’t see? He took it out on you?” He snubbed, “we didn’t do anything. I’ve went over that week a hundred times.” He pleaded, “we didn’t do anything!” 

     This didn’t make sense to her. What was he talking about? “Dillon?” 

    He leaned up to face her. “It was my fault Evie. Doug attacked you because of me. The first attack happened the day you went back after dad’s funeral. That first e.r. visit was one month after you left. Why? Evie, why?”

     She sighed, looking at the floor. “Dillon, I don’t know why. I don’t have any answers.”

     “He had to say something. Anything.”

     “Nothing. He didn’t say anything to me other than what he said when we were in the presence of hospital staff or law enforcement. Then it was all sweetness and light. He was the concerned dutiful husband carrying for his sick wife.”

Missing link

     Dillon had just finished a meeting with the county attorney. New laws and revisions to existing laws from the state were being sifted through. He jumped when there came a knock at his office door. He said ‘come in’ a little more grouchy than he had intended to. 

     Bradley stuck his head through the door, “I can come back.” Moving his head out of sight.

     “No,” Dillon sighed. “I’m sorry. Edward just left and my head is spinnin’.”

     “Then I should probably come back,” Bradley encouraged, from outside the open door. His stomach was on fire. 

     “Bradley,” Dillon called to him. As he fully stepped inside the office, Dillon noticed the folder in his hand. “What ja got?”

      Bradley was feeling sicker now than he had been. Bile was rising up into his throat and into his mouth. He forced it down, regretting that Patty had been able to find it. He didn’t say a word as he handed the folder over the desk. 

     Dillon read it. Then read it again. “Did you read this?”

      With a dry mouth, he answered, “yes sir.” 

  Dillon read it again, “I don’t want to know how you got this.” He put the report back in the folder, “yes I do.”

     “Patty found the e.r. report. When she found it. That gave me the date,” Bradley hung on the word – date. Finding it hard to move past it. But was finally able to ring out, “once I had that. I was able to find the corresponding police report.”

     Dillon wanted to hurt something. Break anything. He wanted to rake all the stuff off of his desk into the floor and stump on it. He wanted to pound his fists through his desk. But what he did was caress the folder. Trailing his hand back and forth over it slowly. 

     “Boss?” Bradley whispered. 

     Dillon got up and left Bradley standing there with his heart on his sleeve. ‘God, why did he have to find it?’ He blindly walked outside behind the station. Maybe getting smacked in the face with the cold air would bring him around. Instead; his knees hit the pavement, no longer able to contain the contents of his stomach. A paper towel was draped over his shoulder as Dillon sat close to him, leaning up against the cold brick of the sheriff’s department building. “I’m sorry.” Bradley almost cried. 

     After several minutes of not hearing anything from Dillon, he turned to look at him. Tears were streaming down his face. Stomach acid was the only thing left for Bradley to throw up. And it was coming out. Bradley smacked his hand down on the pavement to catch himself from falling, plopping his hand down in (now) cold vomit. 

     Dillon laughed through his tears, “that’s just nasty.”

    Bradley gagged while laughing. His laughter turned to muffled sobs. “If it makes you laugh, I’ll do it again.”

     Dillon took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly. “This is all my fault.”

     That was the kick to the gut Bradley knew was coming. He choked on the words but was able to squeeze them out as he wiped at his hand. “Walk me through how?”

     Dillon didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. “You read the date on that report. It was one month to the day that she left after dad’s funeral.”

     Bradley’s stomach was hurting but more bile was on the rise. Marching like foot soldiers out of his stomach. “How?” Came out as a taunting gag. The silent falling snow sounded like bombs exploding inside his head. Dillon’s words cut like a knife as he spoke. 

     “She came back here for my dad’s funeral.”

     “But we don’t know that had anything to do with it. It could have been an unfortunate coincidence.”

     “No,” he sighed. Walking to his truck.