BOONE COPYRIGHT 2013 RZEVANS
Boone Stevens had been going straight for ten years. He now ran a pawn shop in East Cameron and tried his best to discourage business from the seediest element. If he was suspicious of a person or a piece of merchandise, he would ask them, "You don't mind if I run a check on the serial number of this item, do you?" He actually had some prospective customers to grab their stuff and run out of the store. That suited him fine because he didn't want any business that might cause an investigation into his past. There were never any major convictions, but there were some small things that he didn't want spread around the community. The shop was making him a decent living, and he wanted to keep it that way.
Bone had eased out of the underworld when the boys had started dealing in heavy drugs. Since he started going straight, he didn't associate with them on any kind of a regular bvasis, but he was not without friends there. Occasionally one of them would call on him for ordinary merchandise. They might call and say something like, "Boone, do you have one of those used night vision scopes" Or they might say, "I want to get my kid one of those fancy mountain bikes." But he was emphatic, no guns and no illegal stuff. He did have his own handguns that he kept under lock and key. That was like locking the barn after the horse was out; his guns had been the final straw that had broken his marriage. It was twelve years before that Melissa had gone into their bedroom and found Tray with Boone's loaded pistol. Tray was ten years old at the time, and Melissa had gone hysterical. Boone couldn't blame her, because it had scared the crap out of him too, especially her screaming. When she and the kids were gone, and the house became eternally quiet, he had examined his life and found himself lacking in everything. Now he saw his grown kids occasionally, but they were busy and didn't really have time for him. The only love he had in his life right now was his mother, and he was being true to her. He drove out to Exodus every Sunday and spent the whole day with her. The city's original name had been Turning Point, but the city elders had gotten a bump on their funny bone and renamed the city when all the larger businesses started leaving.
He usually picked up a bacon-egg-cheese biscuit and a cup of decaf on the drive out to Exodus, but this Sunday morning he had gotten up early and arrived at his mother's around breakfast time. When he knocked, he heard some light quick footste[ps, and then the door was opened by the cutest little tom-boy he had ever seen. She was about thirteen and dresseed in a flannel shirt and blue overalls, with some old fashiouned high top tennis shoes."Hi, I'm Boone," he said.
"Hello, I'm the paper girl; my name is Cindy, short for Cinderella," she said.
"Well, am I in time for breakfast, Cindy?"
"Eggs and toast," said Cindy, and she close the door behind them.
Boone hugged his mother and kissed her on the cheek. "I've got a regular breakfast companion now, Boone. She lightens my day, and I wished I could have her around all the time"
"I'm glad to know you Cindy, and any friend of mother's is a friend of mine." Boone asked Cindy about school, and they all made some small talk for awhile.
Suddenly, Cindy said, "It looks like I may not be able to eat breakfast with you much longer, Mrs. Stevens' mother still can't find a job, and we are probably going to move."
"Where would you move to, Cindy?" asked Mrs. Stevens.
Cindy shrugged her shoulders, and Mrs. Stevens and Boone exchanged glances. "Once, we lived in a shelter for awhile. That was right after daddy took off; I didn't like it there, we had to sleep with a stick with all our stuff between us."
Mrs. Stevens asked what she meant by a stick. Cindy replied that her mother found an old heavy broom sticjk and cut two clubs out of it. Again Boone and his mother exchanged concerned glances. Later, Mrs. Stevens told Boone that she didn't know that families ever really had to live like that.
The next Sunday, Boone made a point to get up early and leave in time to get to his mother's for breakfast. He wanted to know what the latest was with Cindy and her mother.
At breakfast that morning Mrs. Stevens asked Cindy about her grandparents, "Daddy's folks are way down in Texas, and Momma's folks say they've got too many kids to be doling out money," said Cindy.
After Cindy left, Boone said, "They certainly need a blessing of some sort. People wouldn't mind helping them get started if a job was in sight, but most people don't want to get on the hook for an ongoing continuous handout. What kind of a person is her mom anyway?"
"I don't know whether she just had bad lluck to get stuck with a no-good bum that would leave her or whether she is a hell-cat that no one could get along with. Cindy doesn't say too much, but I know that she, like most kids, loves her mother. I do wish we knew more," said his mother.
"If she were a good dependable person, I could use her in the shop," said Boone, "but she would still have to move. That is too long a drive to commute."
"Why dont I invite her to lunch next Sunday," said Mrs. Stevens, "maybe we can find out what she is like."
That was the plan and Boone figured it was about time that he did something good. He wasn't proud of his early life and wanted to atone for some of the misery that he had caused others, including his mother.
Felicia and Cindy Sterling accepted the luncheon invitation, and the next Sunday Boone found himself seated next to a enganing brunette who was not only funny but articulated herself well. Beauty wise, on a scale of one to ten, she was about a six or seven. Boone was not judging her beauty, however, for he had not wanted the luncheon in an effort to develop a romantic relationship he truly wanted to help someone who was in trouble and deserved help. When he was convinced that Felicia was quick and smart, he inquired about her employment prospects. She said she had been all over the small city, but businesses wern't hiring. Boone asked if she was willing to relocate closer to, or in, East Cameron. She said she was at the point of being willing to go anywhere to find a good job, so he told her that he had been considering hiring a clerk for his pawnshop business. If she was interested, she could visit East Cameron and look over the neighborhood, but if she liked the looks of the job, he would recommend that she seek housing in a better part of the city.
Felicia and Cindy settled ino a semi-middle class neighborhood about a mile from the shop; Cindy enrolled in school and Felicia began her job at the pawnshop. Boone had patience with her, and she was quick to catch on to the business. Only once or twice during the first three months did she make a mistake that cost him money. Once she said, "I sold the guitar for fifty-five dollars." Boone had winced and said, "Ok, but it cost me sixty-two; be sure and check the book using the corresponding number on the price tag before you reduce it that much." Then he smiled at her and she smilled back, giggling.
"Ok."
She soon became a valuable asset, and Boone felt a change taking place in his heart toward her and Cindy. The close association and depencdency began to cause in him a warmness that he had not felt in many years. Eventually, he found that he was in a miseraable state. On one of his Sunday trips to his mother's, he confided to her that he was going to ask Felicia to marry him. Mrs. Stevens was delighted and told him the sooneer the better.
The next Wednesday afternoon, he took off early and told Felicia that he had some business to attend to, and he would be back about closing time. He went shopping at one of the regular jewelry stores for a nice wedding ring set; he didn't want to give Felicia one of the failures from the display case. He found just what he was looking for, and as soon as he got back to the shop, he was going to ask her to marry him. The school bus dropped Cindy off at the shop each afternoon, so the whole family could give him a yes or no.
As Boone neared the shop, he saw Manuel washing the Mustang again. Manuel had the car on the lot for a month now, but wouldn't reduce the price. He was convinced it was worth every penny he was asking. Boone gave him a brief honk and started looking for a parking space. After doing a so-so job of parallel parking, he locked up his pickup and proceeded toward the shop door. It was still fifteen minutes until five and the blinds were already closed. Boone thought that was odd because Felicia was always stubborn about closing, hoping for that last customer. As he entered the building, he smelled an odd odor, and then it came to him that it was blood. When he turned the corner of the aisle, he saw a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Felicia and Cindy lay in a pool of blood. Their throats were covered with blood and there was intestines protruding from their abdomens. He turned and as he made the door, he began retching. In a light deaded daze, he vomited all over the side walk. Great sobs broke from his throat, and he began screaming at the top of his voice, "Manuel, Manuel, Manuel."
His long time friend heard and came running down the sidewalk. All Bone could do was motion toward the shop door. Manuel came out of the store in a few mjinutes and said he had called the police. Manuel was pale and shaky, but put an arm around Boone and place his head next to Boone's. There was nothing to say, for both men were crying.
Police chief Adkins showed up about thirty minutes after the first group of his officers had arrived. With him was an investigator who cordoned off the shop, and began taking pictures and examining the area. Finally, about seven o'clock, after the coroner and the investigator had exchanged information, an ambulance arrived to take the bodies to the morgue. The investigator said that nothing, including the blood was to be tampered with. He and a team would return the next day to make sure nothing had been overlooked.
Boone called his mother, and she insisted on driving to East Cameron. Eventually, after everyone was interviewed, more than twice, the bodies were released and Boone's mother made all the arrangements. She also went through all Felicia's papers to find the telephone numbers of Felicia's folks. The funeral services were set for the approaching Thursday, and when Thursday rolled around there was just a handful of folks that showed up for the service. The father who had abandoned the two was not among them.
Boone released the video from the shop's hidden camera to the investigator, but the investigator said that there were no pictures that would be sufficient for prosecution. He had an idea, however, of who it was. He suspected it was five punks that were running a crack house in the area, but the police had never caught them red handed. Boone could never get the picture of what Felicia and Cindy went through out of his mind. He knew that he vould never have a moment's peace if he didn't do something about it.
He obtained a copy of the video, and then contacted Mule Hawkins, one of his old friends from way back. "Mule, I need several things, but first I need to know for sure who did this to my family. I say family, for I was going to marry Felicia." said Boone.
Mule was big and tough, but not so hard that he didn't have feelings, "I understand, Boone, and I'll find out for you. It may take awhile, but I'll get it done."
The culprits had also done quite a bit of vandalizing, so when the insurance adjuster came out, he told Boone to call a cleanup company they dealt with. He said after the cleanup, he would get the glass peope in. Two weeks later, Boone reopened the shop but didn't accept any new merchandise. He sent notes to all those he held tickets on that the tickets must be redeemed by the due date because he was closing the business. He planned on putting the shop up for sale after he heard from Mule.
It was two months before Mule contacted him. "One of the punks got drunk and was bragging about making the old lady swallow a handful of fishhooks," said Mule. As he said the words he held up two bent fingers on each hand indication quotation marks. "We traced down the companions, and they proved to be some distributors for Boots Murphy. Sandy and I found out where they live. I have it all written down for you. You think about it and then tell me what you want me to come up with," said Mule.
Boone drove by the address the next day. It was an isolated building in the bad part of town, and there were a couple of mean dogs inside the fence. They wouldn't be a problem; he knew where he could get hold of some cyanide. He went back to the shop and took the back off the big wide screen TV. He began removing all identification from the chassis, and even ground off some mumber that he wasn't sure about. He ground the areas deep, for he wanted no tracing. He removed any mention from his books of the TV, and then he made an appointment with Mule.
"Mule, I need a high incendiary device that is set off by a cell phone. It can't take up more space thatn a two pound package of sugar would," said Boone. Boone took the Trojan horse home, placed it in the garage, and waited for the shop to sell. A month after the the new owner took possession of the shop, Boone picked out a Saturday night when he figured the group would be really ino their partying. That night he threw some laced butcher delicacies over the fence to quiet the dogs, and wheeled the TV up to the punk's front door. He put a sign on the package saying, "Good job, Boots." He honked his horn until the porch light came on, and as a head appeared, he waved and drove off. When he made the block, he saw that the TV had been taken in, so he stopped his pickup a half block away and got out his cell phone.
He sat in the pickup hesitating; the culprits were young, but they had done the most evil and terrible thing anyone could dream up. As he thought on it, the suffering of Flelicia and Cindy became vivid again. A vision of the assualted and mutilated bodies appeared to him, and a hard pain in his chest preceded his racking sobs. Then as his heart truned to iron, he uttered, "Go to hell, you rotten scum." He touched the send button, and as the fireball arose in the sky he said, "You got better than you deserved."
Boone Stevens had been going straight for ten years. He now ran a pawn shop in East Cameron and tried his best to discourage business from the seediest element. If he was suspicious of a person or a piece of merchandise, he would ask them, "You don't mind if I run a check on the serial number of this item, do you?" He actually had some prospective customers to grab their stuff and run out of the store. That suited him fine because he didn't want any business that might cause an investigation into his past. There were never any major convictions, but there were some small things that he didn't want spread around the community. The shop was making him a decent living, and he wanted to keep it that way.
Bone had eased out of the underworld when the boys had started dealing in heavy drugs. Since he started going straight, he didn't associate with them on any kind of a regular bvasis, but he was not without friends there. Occasionally one of them would call on him for ordinary merchandise. They might call and say something like, "Boone, do you have one of those used night vision scopes" Or they might say, "I want to get my kid one of those fancy mountain bikes." But he was emphatic, no guns and no illegal stuff. He did have his own handguns that he kept under lock and key. That was like locking the barn after the horse was out; his guns had been the final straw that had broken his marriage. It was twelve years before that Melissa had gone into their bedroom and found Tray with Boone's loaded pistol. Tray was ten years old at the time, and Melissa had gone hysterical. Boone couldn't blame her, because it had scared the crap out of him too, especially her screaming. When she and the kids were gone, and the house became eternally quiet, he had examined his life and found himself lacking in everything. Now he saw his grown kids occasionally, but they were busy and didn't really have time for him. The only love he had in his life right now was his mother, and he was being true to her. He drove out to Exodus every Sunday and spent the whole day with her. The city's original name had been Turning Point, but the city elders had gotten a bump on their funny bone and renamed the city when all the larger businesses started leaving.
He usually picked up a bacon-egg-cheese biscuit and a cup of decaf on the drive out to Exodus, but this Sunday morning he had gotten up early and arrived at his mother's around breakfast time. When he knocked, he heard some light quick footste[ps, and then the door was opened by the cutest little tom-boy he had ever seen. She was about thirteen and dresseed in a flannel shirt and blue overalls, with some old fashiouned high top tennis shoes."Hi, I'm Boone," he said.
"Hello, I'm the paper girl; my name is Cindy, short for Cinderella," she said.
"Well, am I in time for breakfast, Cindy?"
"Eggs and toast," said Cindy, and she close the door behind them.
Boone hugged his mother and kissed her on the cheek. "I've got a regular breakfast companion now, Boone. She lightens my day, and I wished I could have her around all the time"
"I'm glad to know you Cindy, and any friend of mother's is a friend of mine." Boone asked Cindy about school, and they all made some small talk for awhile.
Suddenly, Cindy said, "It looks like I may not be able to eat breakfast with you much longer, Mrs. Stevens' mother still can't find a job, and we are probably going to move."
"Where would you move to, Cindy?" asked Mrs. Stevens.
Cindy shrugged her shoulders, and Mrs. Stevens and Boone exchanged glances. "Once, we lived in a shelter for awhile. That was right after daddy took off; I didn't like it there, we had to sleep with a stick with all our stuff between us."
Mrs. Stevens asked what she meant by a stick. Cindy replied that her mother found an old heavy broom sticjk and cut two clubs out of it. Again Boone and his mother exchanged concerned glances. Later, Mrs. Stevens told Boone that she didn't know that families ever really had to live like that.
The next Sunday, Boone made a point to get up early and leave in time to get to his mother's for breakfast. He wanted to know what the latest was with Cindy and her mother.
At breakfast that morning Mrs. Stevens asked Cindy about her grandparents, "Daddy's folks are way down in Texas, and Momma's folks say they've got too many kids to be doling out money," said Cindy.
After Cindy left, Boone said, "They certainly need a blessing of some sort. People wouldn't mind helping them get started if a job was in sight, but most people don't want to get on the hook for an ongoing continuous handout. What kind of a person is her mom anyway?"
"I don't know whether she just had bad lluck to get stuck with a no-good bum that would leave her or whether she is a hell-cat that no one could get along with. Cindy doesn't say too much, but I know that she, like most kids, loves her mother. I do wish we knew more," said his mother.
"If she were a good dependable person, I could use her in the shop," said Boone, "but she would still have to move. That is too long a drive to commute."
"Why dont I invite her to lunch next Sunday," said Mrs. Stevens, "maybe we can find out what she is like."
That was the plan and Boone figured it was about time that he did something good. He wasn't proud of his early life and wanted to atone for some of the misery that he had caused others, including his mother.
Felicia and Cindy Sterling accepted the luncheon invitation, and the next Sunday Boone found himself seated next to a enganing brunette who was not only funny but articulated herself well. Beauty wise, on a scale of one to ten, she was about a six or seven. Boone was not judging her beauty, however, for he had not wanted the luncheon in an effort to develop a romantic relationship he truly wanted to help someone who was in trouble and deserved help. When he was convinced that Felicia was quick and smart, he inquired about her employment prospects. She said she had been all over the small city, but businesses wern't hiring. Boone asked if she was willing to relocate closer to, or in, East Cameron. She said she was at the point of being willing to go anywhere to find a good job, so he told her that he had been considering hiring a clerk for his pawnshop business. If she was interested, she could visit East Cameron and look over the neighborhood, but if she liked the looks of the job, he would recommend that she seek housing in a better part of the city.
Felicia and Cindy settled ino a semi-middle class neighborhood about a mile from the shop; Cindy enrolled in school and Felicia began her job at the pawnshop. Boone had patience with her, and she was quick to catch on to the business. Only once or twice during the first three months did she make a mistake that cost him money. Once she said, "I sold the guitar for fifty-five dollars." Boone had winced and said, "Ok, but it cost me sixty-two; be sure and check the book using the corresponding number on the price tag before you reduce it that much." Then he smiled at her and she smilled back, giggling.
"Ok."
She soon became a valuable asset, and Boone felt a change taking place in his heart toward her and Cindy. The close association and depencdency began to cause in him a warmness that he had not felt in many years. Eventually, he found that he was in a miseraable state. On one of his Sunday trips to his mother's, he confided to her that he was going to ask Felicia to marry him. Mrs. Stevens was delighted and told him the sooneer the better.
The next Wednesday afternoon, he took off early and told Felicia that he had some business to attend to, and he would be back about closing time. He went shopping at one of the regular jewelry stores for a nice wedding ring set; he didn't want to give Felicia one of the failures from the display case. He found just what he was looking for, and as soon as he got back to the shop, he was going to ask her to marry him. The school bus dropped Cindy off at the shop each afternoon, so the whole family could give him a yes or no.
As Boone neared the shop, he saw Manuel washing the Mustang again. Manuel had the car on the lot for a month now, but wouldn't reduce the price. He was convinced it was worth every penny he was asking. Boone gave him a brief honk and started looking for a parking space. After doing a so-so job of parallel parking, he locked up his pickup and proceeded toward the shop door. It was still fifteen minutes until five and the blinds were already closed. Boone thought that was odd because Felicia was always stubborn about closing, hoping for that last customer. As he entered the building, he smelled an odd odor, and then it came to him that it was blood. When he turned the corner of the aisle, he saw a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Felicia and Cindy lay in a pool of blood. Their throats were covered with blood and there was intestines protruding from their abdomens. He turned and as he made the door, he began retching. In a light deaded daze, he vomited all over the side walk. Great sobs broke from his throat, and he began screaming at the top of his voice, "Manuel, Manuel, Manuel."
His long time friend heard and came running down the sidewalk. All Bone could do was motion toward the shop door. Manuel came out of the store in a few mjinutes and said he had called the police. Manuel was pale and shaky, but put an arm around Boone and place his head next to Boone's. There was nothing to say, for both men were crying.
Police chief Adkins showed up about thirty minutes after the first group of his officers had arrived. With him was an investigator who cordoned off the shop, and began taking pictures and examining the area. Finally, about seven o'clock, after the coroner and the investigator had exchanged information, an ambulance arrived to take the bodies to the morgue. The investigator said that nothing, including the blood was to be tampered with. He and a team would return the next day to make sure nothing had been overlooked.
Boone called his mother, and she insisted on driving to East Cameron. Eventually, after everyone was interviewed, more than twice, the bodies were released and Boone's mother made all the arrangements. She also went through all Felicia's papers to find the telephone numbers of Felicia's folks. The funeral services were set for the approaching Thursday, and when Thursday rolled around there was just a handful of folks that showed up for the service. The father who had abandoned the two was not among them.
Boone released the video from the shop's hidden camera to the investigator, but the investigator said that there were no pictures that would be sufficient for prosecution. He had an idea, however, of who it was. He suspected it was five punks that were running a crack house in the area, but the police had never caught them red handed. Boone could never get the picture of what Felicia and Cindy went through out of his mind. He knew that he vould never have a moment's peace if he didn't do something about it.
He obtained a copy of the video, and then contacted Mule Hawkins, one of his old friends from way back. "Mule, I need several things, but first I need to know for sure who did this to my family. I say family, for I was going to marry Felicia." said Boone.
Mule was big and tough, but not so hard that he didn't have feelings, "I understand, Boone, and I'll find out for you. It may take awhile, but I'll get it done."
The culprits had also done quite a bit of vandalizing, so when the insurance adjuster came out, he told Boone to call a cleanup company they dealt with. He said after the cleanup, he would get the glass peope in. Two weeks later, Boone reopened the shop but didn't accept any new merchandise. He sent notes to all those he held tickets on that the tickets must be redeemed by the due date because he was closing the business. He planned on putting the shop up for sale after he heard from Mule.
It was two months before Mule contacted him. "One of the punks got drunk and was bragging about making the old lady swallow a handful of fishhooks," said Mule. As he said the words he held up two bent fingers on each hand indication quotation marks. "We traced down the companions, and they proved to be some distributors for Boots Murphy. Sandy and I found out where they live. I have it all written down for you. You think about it and then tell me what you want me to come up with," said Mule.
Boone drove by the address the next day. It was an isolated building in the bad part of town, and there were a couple of mean dogs inside the fence. They wouldn't be a problem; he knew where he could get hold of some cyanide. He went back to the shop and took the back off the big wide screen TV. He began removing all identification from the chassis, and even ground off some mumber that he wasn't sure about. He ground the areas deep, for he wanted no tracing. He removed any mention from his books of the TV, and then he made an appointment with Mule.
"Mule, I need a high incendiary device that is set off by a cell phone. It can't take up more space thatn a two pound package of sugar would," said Boone. Boone took the Trojan horse home, placed it in the garage, and waited for the shop to sell. A month after the the new owner took possession of the shop, Boone picked out a Saturday night when he figured the group would be really ino their partying. That night he threw some laced butcher delicacies over the fence to quiet the dogs, and wheeled the TV up to the punk's front door. He put a sign on the package saying, "Good job, Boots." He honked his horn until the porch light came on, and as a head appeared, he waved and drove off. When he made the block, he saw that the TV had been taken in, so he stopped his pickup a half block away and got out his cell phone.
He sat in the pickup hesitating; the culprits were young, but they had done the most evil and terrible thing anyone could dream up. As he thought on it, the suffering of Flelicia and Cindy became vivid again. A vision of the assualted and mutilated bodies appeared to him, and a hard pain in his chest preceded his racking sobs. Then as his heart truned to iron, he uttered, "Go to hell, you rotten scum." He touched the send button, and as the fireball arose in the sky he said, "You got better than you deserved."