Thumper (The Mandarin Connection Book 8) Page 2
I felt a lot of guilt about the crash, but, thinking back over it, I really don’t know what else I could have done.
The poor thing just ran straight through the window, from what I remember.
After that, it’s all a blur.
I did think it was funny that Michelle and The Frenchman were at the service, though.
They both offered condolences, but I was still pretty upset, and thanked them kind of in a daze.
I mean, that’s the only reason I can think of to imagine that they both were laughing when they got into their car and left at the end of the funeral.
Probably just my imagination.
Why would anyone laugh about something like that?
Maybe they’d heard a joke on the radio, and figured they were out of sight by then.
It doesn’t matter, anyway.
Frank and Mom are gone.
Stinger and Thumper and I have to get things straightened out, because now it’s time to be adults.
It’s time we set about putting our lives back in order.
—————
CHAPTER TWO
BEA
I’m in the kitchen, working on some homework, when there is a knock on the door.
I’m not expecting anyone.
Especially not the man who is standing at the door when I open it.
“Dad?” I stammer.
“Is it really you?” I cry.
I can’t believe it!
My father is back from wherever the hell he spends his life!
He’s standing there, just making me feel like a tiny little girl, all over again.
His Marine uniform is pressed and tight, his haircut short, while he holds his cover under one arm.
“Beatrice, how are you?” he asks, his voice full of emotion.
For him, that is.
My dad really never is very emotional about anything.
I think that’s part of why he and mom divorced.
A wave of emotions washes over me, but I find myself suddenly hugging him for dear life, and bawling like a kid with a scraped knee.
He holds me, a bit awkwardly, and lets me cry myself out, right there on the front porch of the house.
After I calm down, my father, Lt. Colonel Michael “Buck” Rodgers and I sit down at the kitchen table.
—————
“Bea, I am so sorry that I couldn’t be here for you,” my father starts.
“I know,” I sniff.
“It’s been hard, sometimes, to live missing you, is all, Dad,” I tell him.
“Sweetie, you know how much I love you, and even your Mother, god rest her soul,” he says.
I am a bit shocked by that.
“Listen, Bea, I know you don’t really understand why your mother and I broke up, since you were very young. Frank Sullivan was a good man. And, your mother was a good woman,” he explained.
Dad paused for a second, glancing around the room with a professional’s attention.
His eyes fell on a cuckoo clock on the wall.
He grinned, and then smiled, but it seemed a bit sad.
“I see Agnes kept that dumb old clock I brought her from the Bavarian Forest, when I was stationed in Berlin way back when,” he said.
He paused again, and I could tell he was thinking about his life with my Mom.
He sighed, loudly.
I don’t think my Dad ever cried, and maybe it was really impossible for him to do so.
Still, I could tell that he was touched by the sentiment, and I put my hand over his.
He looked at me, suddenly seeing me for the first time in a long time.
“You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman, Beatrice,” he said, earnestly.
“I’m very proud of you, and I know your Mother was, too,” he said.
This made me feel sad, again, and I sobbed a few moments.
Dad held my hand, and then kissed it on the palm.
“You’ve nothing to feel bad about, it was just their time, Bea,” he said.
I never believed Dad was very religious; I know what they say about Atheists and foxholes, but he never wore his beliefs on his sleeve the way some men do.
“It was awful!” I cried.
“Suddenly, it was just there! In the car!” I said, shaking.
He shushed me, and hugged me to him.
“I know what you mean, sweetie,” he murmured.
“You do?” I asked.
“Yes, I really do. I once hit a reindeer with a deuce-and-a-half, in Norway. Made one hell of a mess. And, it ruined the truck’s engine. Not a pretty sight,” he said, turning his head and pulling a face.
He changed the subject.
“I spoke to Mr. Frieberg, the attorney? About the will, and the estate?” he offered.
He went on about some of the money stuff, most of which went right over my head.
I guessed he’d be telling the twins about it, later, when they came home.
Boy, were they going to be surprised!
—————
CHAPTER THREE
THUMPER
“Are you sure, David?” my sister’s father asks me.
Lt. Colonel Michael “Buck” Rodgers stands towering next to the table where I am sitting, nursing an Earl Grey tea. It’s odd, how I like tea, and Stinger likes coffee.
“Tell me everything this Mr. Norton character said to you,” he adds, sitting down at the table. He holds a cup of black coffee, almost completely hidden behind his hand.
The officer is a huge, compelling man, who seems to really enjoy the outdoors. His tanned skin and muscles are admirable. I wish I could grow into a man like that.
But there are also a few scars on his face, and one of his hands looks like it has a hole in on the back of it.
Comes with the territory, I think to myself, wondering if I could measure up to his kind of standards in the military.
Hah! That’s a joke! I don’t really like fighting, and the few times I have, I was scared shitless!
“It’s like I said, Sir,” I reply. “Mr. Norton said that I had to throw the next game we are in, so that the Wildcats are in the finals. Then, he wants me to convince Stinger to throw the bowl game. We’re not supposed to tell anyone, or more of what happened to Bea and… Dad…” I pause, choking back an unexpected sob.
I never knew that grief could be this way. I thought it just hit and was over with.
I find myself getting weepy at strange times, over nothing. Like a song that Mom liked…or the shop where she would take us for cream soda.
Hell, even the words, ‘cream soda!’
Who the hell would think something like that would make me want to bawl my friggin’ eyes out?
I pull myself together; I don’t want to seem weak in front of this man.
The Lt. Colonel sat back, sipping his coffee.
He was thinking, and eyed me closely. I felt embarrassed, as if he were judging me and finding me lacking.
He reached out a hand and rested it on my shoulder, as he leaned across the table.
“You did the right thing, son,” he said. That word made me feel warm and also sad, knowing that my own father was gone.
But then, I got angry!
“What can we do, Mister, uh… say, what should I call you?” I asked.
“You can start with Dad, if it suits you, Thumper,” he said with a smile.
I couldn’t help it.
The big Marine hugged me to him as I wept for my loss.
After a short while, he stood. He sipped the coffee, emptying the mug, and set it down.
“Let’s find your brother. What I have to say concerns him as well,” he said.
—————
“You want us to do what?” Stinger exclaimed.
He was standing up, leaning towards Lt. Colonel Rodgers with his fists clenched in balls of anger.
He poked the Marine in the chest, which I felt was ill-advised.
“No way, man! No fucking way! You saw w
hat happened to Bea, and … and… our parents! Who the fuck you think you are, waltzing into our lives all of a sudden and taking over!” Stinger roared.
The Marine stood there, amused, looking down at Stinger ranting and poking him.
Finally, he decided that Stinger had had enough fun. He grabbed Stinger’s wrist, and twisted it in a certain way.
He guided Stinger into a chair, and then got down with his face right next to my brother’s.
“Son, I know you think you know what’s best. I did, too, when I was your age. But I am telling you that, this time, you are wrong. I feel very badly for what happened to your parents. Frank was a good man. In fact, he was the only man I felt was good enough for Bea’s mother. I felt I had made the correct choice, when I had to leave, by making Agnes’ life a bit easier with a decent man. And then, I stayed away, because of that choice. Until now,” he said.
Stinger looked defiant, but I could tell he was near tears, his chin was quavering just a bit.
“Bro, c’mon!” I pleaded.
“Just give him a listen!” I said.
Stinger shot me a look.
“Oh, I get it! You are double-teaming me, right?” he growled, rubbing his wrist.
I didn’t think the officer hurt Stinger, but he sure maneuvered him into sitting down fast.
The Marine stood, gathering himself to his full height. He was impressive.
“Boys, what I am going to tell you must not leave this room,” he said, ominously.
Then, he began to tell us all about the Mandarin Connection…
—————
CHAPTER FOUR
BEA
The boys seemed glum the past week or so, but I was so happy my father was able to stay with me!
I never had a lot of time with him, growing up. He was so mysterious, but I could always tell how much he loved me. Every time he would show up, he lifted me above his head and twirled me around until I felt silly and giddily happy.
I noticed he hadn’t done that this visit, and felt sad and disappointed. I know why he restrained himself. I don’t doubt for a second he could still lift me over his head.
He is a huge man! A Marine!
Every time he is near, I feel very safe, and secure and intensely possessive of him. I don’t get why that is. I mean, sure, he’s a soldier, and can shoot guns, but that’s not it, at the bottom.
It’s more the way he’s always looking out for us.
His eyes are searching the distance, then moving in closer, finally resting on us, sometimes with a smile, and sometimes with something else.
I feel protected.
Now that the boys are coming up on their final games, I am excited, as well!
—————
Because of my injuries, the boys had to opt out of a few games. Their coaches whined and moaned about it, but they realized the gravity of the situation.
Now, late in the season, they are back, having returned to practice, and the coaches are anxious for the next game.
After that, should they win, it’s the bowl game!
Tomorrow we’ll know!
—————
CHAPTER FIVE
BEA
I feel like dying inside!
What happened?
How could they have lost this game?
It was all going so well.
The Wasps led going into the half, and then made a couple of dumb moves, and were behind in the third quarter.
Still, they had a decent enough chance to beat the Cobras!
Then, something happened in the fourth, with three minutes on the clock.
It looked like Stinger was going for the intercept on a play, and then Thumper crashed into him!
What the hell?
When they stood, I thought Stinger was going to punch Thumper out!
They were yelling at each other, and the other teammates pulled them apart!
The Wasps then set up for a field goal, and tied the game, with less than two minutes on the clock!
The Cobras got the ball, and their quarterback ran straight past Stinger and Thumper, and, again, I thought Stinger was going to fight his own brother!
The loss sent the Wasps into a division game tie-breaker, against the Wolverines.
The Cobras had not won the bowl game they wanted, but were assured one of the holiday bowls for this win.
They had little to be sad about.
But Stinger wouldn’t even look at Thumper as they trudged off the field and to the locker rooms.
—————
CHAPTER SIX
STINGER
“I can’t believe we are doing this, Thump,” I said, washing the stink of loss from my sweaty body.
My brother showered a few nozzles down from me.
“Careful, bro. Walls have ears,” he warned.
I shrugged.
Fuck the walls.
I washed my face, and shampooed, rinsing it all off in a warm jet of water.
Getting out, I toweled off.
Thumper was still finishing his shower when I walked out of the locker room and straight into the Frenchman, and Mr. Norton.
“Excellent job, Stinger. May I call you Stinger, son?” Norton asked.
“No, you can’t call me, ‘Stinger,’ and I am not your son, asshole!” I said through gritted teeth.
His greasy smile made me want to punch his teeth out the back of his head. It was all I could do to restrain myself from grabbing his fucking neck and tossing him into the Frenchman, and then killing them both.
The Lt. Colonel had told me what the investigative team had found in the aftermath of Bea’s accident.
The deer that had hit the car windshield had already been dead when it was thrown into their path.
The forensics had turned up nothing of note: no dna, no hair, nothing.
Whoever had thrown it was a powerful man, but it ended there.
But there was an odd thing about the investigation directly following the crash.
No one had ever heard of an ‘Officer Barton’ or ‘Officer Bruce’ at the State Troopers.
There was a written police report of the incident, but it was signed by different officers.
—————
I restrained myself as Thumper exited the locker room and approached.
The Frenchman punched me in the stomach, and my breath whooshed out.
Thumper leapt onto him, but he rolled and my brother slid next to me on the ground.
No one else was around to see our shame.
I gasped for breath, and Thumper jumped to his feet, eyes blazing with anger.
“Want to go for broke, eh, shitheel?” he snarled at the Frenchman.
Suddenly, Mr. Norton had a huge, ugly gun in his hand, forcing himself between us.
“Someone is about to be very dead,” he growled, looking the Frenchman in the eyes.
The gun wasn’t pointing in any particular direction.
The Frenchman laughed and backed away.
“C’est bon!” he chuckled.
He eyed us, then backed away a few yards.
“Now, then, boys, let’s talk about that bowl game!” Mr. Norton said, jovially, as he holstered the gun.
—————
Two days later, Thumper and I were in an old warehouse store room meeting with ‘Dad.’
“So, that’s the plan, Sir,” I said to the Lt. Colonel.
“You forgot the part where I rip off that asshole’s head and shit down his throat!” snarled Thumper.
I rolled my eyes, but the Marine’s face remained impassive.
“Do you boys know that the Governor will be in attendance at that Bowl game?” he asked.
“I guess. Isn’t that tradition?” Thumper asked.