Dumb Stunt Dead - a novel
Chapter 1
MAN KILLED IN MISADVENTURE
Combined Sources
Reports of the death of a former local resident, William Watson, reached Manus,
Brazil today. Mr. Watson reportedly perished a week ago while attempting to
navigate his Kayak over an un-named waterfall on a remote tributary of the Amazon.
Mr. Watson, who reportedly had led a life of adventure, apparently lost control
of his boat soon after it became airborne at the top of a waterfall that is
said to be 135 feet high. His body was not recovered, sources said, due to the
ferocity of the rapids in the gorge at the foot of the falls.
Mr. Watson, who was forty, was born in Washington, spent many years in Middletown
while growing up. He is best remembered for a brief, but spectacular, high-school
foot-ball career in which he scored five touchdowns in a championship game before
being ejected from the game and simultaneously expelled from the school. There
are no known surviving relatives.
Sue read the article for the fifth time looking for answers
that weren't there. The news didn't surprise her, in a way she'd been expecting
to read something like this for the last twenty three years, but, when it came,
it still came as a shock.
She slowly shook her head and dropped the paper on to the kitchen table which
was crowded with the debris of breakfast. She hadn't heard from him in more
than twenty years. Yet his name had jumped out of the short article which was
buried two pages before Ann Landers.
He'd been the most exciting boy at Central High. So exciting that her parents
had been gleeful for six weeks after she broke up with him during her senior
year.
Well, he went out exciting, she thought. She shook her head again and reached
for the phone.
"Marge, do you remember Billy Watson?"
"Yeah, that one. Did you see the Sentinel today?"
"It's way inside, page 18. He's dead. Dumb stunt dead. No. Listen, he tried
to kayak over some waterfall in South America."
"No, I'm serious. The guy I lost my virginity to stuck himself in a great
big plastic penis and tried to score with mother nature."
"Remember how yesterday I was saying that my life was too boring?"
Sue shifted the phone to her other ear and took a sip of coffee, "Can you
imagine being so hard up for excitement that you'd do something like that?"
She laughed, "Yeah, I remember the night he drove down the train tracks
to get away from the cops." She closed her eyes for a moment before continuing,
"and driving on the frozen lake and to see how many times the car could
spin around. But that was then, and this is now. I'm a mother, and my last birthday
started with a 4."
"Sure, I've got things to do too. I'll talk to you later." She hung
up the phone and decided that the breakfast dishes could wait - in honor of
Billy and his last stunt. He must have been desperate to find something crazier
than anything he'd ever done before. She imagined him so wrapped up in the stunt
that he never considered the possibility he could fail. She was sure he got
off on how everyone around him was sure he was crazy. He'd done that when he
was eighteen. It probably hadn't occurred to him that he was going to die until
it happened. It was fitting, she supposed, and wondered how drunk he'd been
the night before. Did he die with a hangover?
With a sigh she got up, cleared and washed the dishes, put away the milk, and
tossed the now empty Rice Crispies box into the trash.
Some time later she found herself digging into a large box in the back of her
closet. Inside was a pile of junk that had been lurking in the camphor scented
darkness for twenty two years. She found her yearbook about half way down and,
under it, a diary. She hesitated before taking them out of the box, not at all
sure that she wanted to recall that time so clearly. The intervening years had
edited her memories, and she felt wary of stirring up old feelings. She didn't
want to compare her love then and now. Still, it was too much to resist. She
took the books out onto the porch, settled into a chair, and started to read.
At the time she'd called it love. Today she wondered at that, not entirely sure
she even knew what love was. Whatever it had been; it had been electric. There
was a picture of the two of them in the candid section of the yearbook that
raised the hair on the back of her neck. He was sitting on his motorcycle, and
she was standing up on the foot pegs behind him, her hands gripping his shoulders.
Her hair was blown back by the wind, his mouth was stretched into what he had
called his bug catching grin. She remembered riding like that. "Helmets
are for people who crash," he'd always said.
The entries in her diary scared the hell out of her.
One, written just before she broke up with him, summed it up. "It's gone
on too long. If this keeps up I know that either I will die - or I will have
to watch him die. It's fun to live on the edge, but last night when he pulled
up out front I had to run into the bathroom and puke. I don't know what he's
trying to prove, but I know I can't take it any longer. If he has to die I want
to read about his death in the Sentinel - not live it with his blood all over
me. I tried to tell him this last night, but he didn't seem to hear it. He kept
giving me the line, 'You know I'm charmed. It's not my time yet - I can feel
it.' Then he does the 'You're the only girl who ever came close to understanding
me' bit as his hand went to unhook my bra."
Three days later she'd written. "Well it's over. He seemed to accept it,
and told me that someday he'd come back and tell me about all the good times
I'd missed. I almost fell for that one, it sure turned on the tear faucet. I
don't want to let go of the excitement I feel with him."
"After him every other guy is going to be B-O-R-I-N-G!!!"
Sue let her thoughts drift to Tom, her husband of the last
12 years. The prophecy had proved true. When it was anything other than boring
- it was bad exciting. Like watching him puke a gallon of beer every so often.
Like all those nights waiting for the call from the Highway Patrol, before she'd
shortened his leash.
Billy never came back. He bounced around town for a year after graduation. Then
one day she heard that he'd left town at high speed the night before, closely
followed by the deputy with siren blaring and lights flashing.
Sue had returned to the present by the time Tom got back from the little league
game. Tommy Jr. had a good game and they brought half a gallon of vanilla fudge
to celebrate with. Sue didn't tell her husband about the article. By some sort
of unspoken consent they had never talked about previous loves and lovers, besides,
Tom didn't come from around here and never knew Billy.
That night there was a big thunderstorm. It had rolled across
three states before sweeping down on them. The lights went out and she sat with
Tom listening to the roar of the wind and the slashing of the rain. When one
bolt struck close by she moved closer to him. With the familiarity of marriage
he put his arm around her and his hand covered her breast.
She remembered Billy brazenly copping a feel ,"for luck", just before
he'd tried to jump the chicken coop on his motorcycle. For a moment she remembered
the touch from the past. The memory was more real than the present. For a second
and she felt Billy's thin nimble fingers touching her, rather than Tom's which
were thicker and shorter, and, she thought, clumsy in comparison..
Sue wasn't the sort who read supermarket tabloids or who'd ever believed in
ghosts, but there was something about that memory that spooked her. She snuggled
even closer and Tom said, "Don't worry, you're safe with me."
It was all she could do to keep from jumping off the couch. They'd been married
for twelve years and Tom must have said that to her a bunch of times, but all
she could remember was being on a dark road on a black night going around a
curve so fast the tires were screaming and the car was leaning so hard she was
sure it was about to go up on two wheels and roll over. She remembered Billy
taking his eyes off the road, looking at her and saying those words - exactly
like that.
"Tom?"
It took him a minute to answer, "yeah?"
"What's the craziest thing that's ever happened to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Have you ever had deja-vu or anything like that?"
"I guess so, why?"
She didn't answer for a while. "I guess I'm spooked by the storm or something."
They'd made love and she'd been both relieved and a touch disappointed that
it hadn't felt like it was Billy who was touching her. She remembered, not for
the first time, the time she'd made love on the motor cycle. Another black night
on a deserted road, riding backwards arched over the gas tank. Billy, wearing
only his boots and black kidskin gloves, his feet on the rear foot pegs hunching
over her. In truth it had been uncomfortable and she'd been so afraid she hadn't
been able to enjoy it, but she had used the memory more than once to get her
over the edge when she'd needed a little something that Tom wasn't supplying.
Afterwards, she left Tom snoring in the bed and went out onto the porch and
sat enjoying the cool the storm had left.
She was half asleep when she sensed something. Too drowsy to be afraid. She
said his name with her mind, "Billy?"
'It's not the Queen of England.', came the answer.
"I'm dreaming."
'With me you never know.' After a moment he continued, 'We've got some unfinished
business.'
"To tell me about the things I missed," she finished.
She sensed a smile. 'I guess I was a little worried you had forgotten.'
"You, worried?"
'Not really.'
Chapter 2
When she woke the next morning the memory did not fade like most dreams. Images
from the past kept flashing through her head as she went about her morning routine.
As she was brushing her teeth she saw the motorcycle landing on and then crashing
through the tar paper roof of the chicken coop. There was an explosion of dust,
feathers, and a couple of truly startled hens. While the cloud of dust was still
rising the piece of plywood hung on squeaky hinges that served as a door slammed
open and ripped away from the shed as Billy emerged still astride the bike.
She laughed at the scene and covered the mirror with a fine spray of toothpaste
and spit. The image she saw in the mirror was like she remembered him; covered
with chicken shit and dust and grinning. For a split second she thought it was
him in the mirror, but as she wiped it away she saw it was not. "Sue, are
you ok?" Tom called from the bedroom.
"Yeah, just strangling possums dear." She hadn't used that phrase
since going out with Billy. It was how he described the sounds she made when
making love and it had become their secret code phrase for making love. "Want
to strangle some possums tonight?" She was beginning to get scared by the
acuteness of her memory and the rush of thoughts.
"What?" Tom's voice brought her back to reality.
"I'm ok, no problem."
That wasn't exactly how she put it to Marge when she called
her later. Marge was a good friend, and even though Sue trusted her with most
of her secrets, she couldn't tell her more than bits and pieces of this. "I've
been thinking about him a lot and it's been making me a little weird,"
was how she put it. She didn't talk for long, she kept remembering how Billy
would make signs when she was on the phone using his thumb and forefinger, opening
and closing them a mile a minute.
"What's going on?" She surprised herself realizing she had spoken
aloud.
'I'll give you three guesses.' Sue spun around, the kitchen was empty. She wasn't
sure if it was in her head or she had actually heard it.
"I'm going crazy."
'That's one possibility.'
"I don't believe in ghosts, and don't say, 'truth is stranger than fiction.'"
'You've got to see it to believe it. Yesterday you said something about a "giant
plastic penis and trying to score with mother nature." that was a good
one. You always had a zinger up your sleeve.'
Sue felt her way to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat heavily.
"Why me?"
'You're the only one...'
"who ever came close to understanding you." She finished,” That
was a good line twenty two years ago, but it's dated now."
'So here I am paddling like hell to get up enough speed, and about ten feet
before I get to the lip of the waterfall I realize I'm not going to make it.
You know how I always said that I'd know when my time was up? Well, it was true,
I just expected a little more advance notice. Anyway, the top of a waterfall
is like no other place. It's like you are at the edge of the world and you are
getting sucked along with power like you wouldn't believe, and I started wondering
what it would have been like to lead a normal life, you know, driving a forklift
over at the Sears warehouse? I actually got the kayak over the lip of the falls
ok, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to clear the rocks at the bottom. So
I started to try and get out of the kayak, I remember being stuck and then it
started to tumble. It's like they say; your life flashes in front of you. I
was up to the part where I told you I'd come back someday when everything went
black.'
'The next thing I knew I was down at the Sentinel and some jerk was saying.
"Hey Joe, you remember that crazy guy from High School?"'
"I don't believe this."
'Why not? I've had stranger things happen to me on acid.'
"Like the time you thought you were a crow and sat in a tree all night?"
'You saw me sitting in the tree, I was flying all over the county.'
She stated to say something, but he interrupted, this time the voice was clearly
inside her head. 'Cool it. it's your husband. I'll just hide under the bed till
he's gone.'
She was still laughing when Tom walked in. "What's so funny?"
She shook her head. "Just thinking about some stuff from a long time ago."
Tom seemed to expect her to go on, but she left it at that. He gave her a queer
look, stuck his head into the refrigerator, emerged with a beer for himself,
and a soda for Tommy. "You sure you're ok?"
Sue smiled, "yeah, it's hard to explain, but I'm ok."
He gave a half smile and walked back outside.
"Billy?" Nothing, she didn't know whether to be glad or not. 'I can't
take much more of this', she thought. 'But I don't want it to be over just yet.'
She went upstairs, it was noon and she was still in her bathrobe, it was time
she got dressed. As soon as it dropped to the floor, she heard him,'you've still
got a nice body.' Startled she covered her breasts with her hands. 'Hey, it's
me. The man who made love to you on a motorcycle.'
"If anyone could be horny after they died it would be you." She dropped
her hands. "Where are you anyway?"
'That's a damned good question. In one sense I'm hiding under the bed, but in
another I'm in your memory, and in another I'm a pile of chopped meat caught
between a waterfall and a pile of rocks on a river in the middle of the jungle.
I guess you get to take your pick.'
"How long is this going to go on?"
'Tired of me already?'
"I didn't say that. I am just real confused."
'Welcome to the club. But don't let it throw you. It could be fun having me
around, if only to spice up your sex life a little.'
After three days Billy was still very much in her mind. He
was becoming a problem at work though. The man who had just come into the office
was bald, his pot belly had approximately the same curve as his head. His pants
were held up by a pair of red plaid suspenders which seemed to be straining
hard. He seemed quite agitated, and was sweating heavily. "Excuse me, Miss,
can I see Joe?"
"May I have your name please?"
'Don't believe him, whatever name he gives you - he's really Archibald Fielding,
an international jewel thief.
"Roger MacMillian."
She turned to the phone and punched Joe's extension. She knew that Joe was not
expecting anyone, he had told her he was planning to spend the afternoon at
the golf course. He would not be pleased.
'If he isn't a jewel thief, and he may not be, he's too fat to do any burglary
that involves the second floor or above, he's Albert Ransom, a person who kidnaps
canaries from the homes of lonely old widows...'
Sue had to work to keep from laughing, “Joe, there's a Roger MacMillian
here to see you."
She listened as Joe cursed and moaned. 'He's not going to play golf, he's got
a date with a bubble gum chewing blonde who goes on duty at the supermarket
checkout at 4:30, and he's going to miss his playtime.' He filled her head with
the image Joe naked, hairy, pasty white, and a little overweight, making love
to a young woman with frizzy hair who blew bubbles while he panted and groaned
on top of her.
Sue bit her lip, ‘stop it.'
The man was leaning over the counter now, she watched a drop of sweat slide
down his large nose, hang for a short second and then drop onto the papers piled
in the in basket.
Finally Joe agreed, "Can you tell him it'll have to be quick?"
She hung up the phone thinking, the only thing this guy will be quick about
will be his heart attack which looked to be five years overdue,"He will
see you now." The man nodded, then walked with what was half scurry, half
waddle into the inner office.
It wasn't much better in the car. 'Come on, you are driving like an old lady.
Hit the gas, go around that guy on the right then touch the brake and slide
over to the left. You can gain half a block right here.' At first she had worried
that he might take over her brain, but either he didn't want to or couldn't.
She still wasn't sure which. Despite everything he had always been a gentle
person. It wasn't his style to force anything, he didn/t need to - he had a
way of making you want to do things.
Tom had commented on the change in their sex life, Tommy said she was driving
better, so she knew he was having an effect. Yesterday morning he'd disappeared
for several hours. When he got back he would only say that he'd had some business
to take care of.
He told her three or four adventures a day. He had traveled a lot of strange
paths between the time he roared out of town a hundred yards ahead of the law
and taking a kayak over the lip of a waterfall. Last night while she was making
love to Tom he'd told her about the orgies he'd attended during his brief time
as a devotee of the Bagwan. Amid the breakfast rush hour he described quiet
places he'd found while working as a park ranger. He could describe a stand
of trees and a bubbling stream with such detail that Sue suspected that he might
be transporting a part of himself there as he told it.
He was full of teasers too. In odd moments he'd say things like 'Be sure I tell
you about the things that happened when I was a bartender in that weird sex
club in L.A. I'll give you a list of ingredients. A half gallon of olive oil,
the most beautiful lesbian in the world, a leather outfit that you could not
believe even after you'd seen it, half a dozen assorted masochists, whips, chains,
and a twelve foot boa constrictor.' Then he'd go silent refusing to give any
more details until she revealed something incredibly revealing about her life.
He was very interested about her pregnancy and Tommy's birth and had her tell
him about it until she was remembering things she'd forgotten.