The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.
The Boaz Schoolteacher, written in 2018, is my fifth novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.
Book Blurb
In the summer of 2017, Katie Sims and her daughter Cullie, moved from New York City to Katie’s hometown of Boaz, Alabama for her to teach English and for Cullie to attend Boaz High School . Fifteen years earlier, during the Christmas holidays, five men from prominent local families sexually assaulted Katie. Nine months later, Katie’s only daughter was born.
Almost from the beginning of the new school year, as Katie and fellow-teacher Cindy Barker shared English, Literature, and Creative Writing duties for more than 300 students, they became lifelong friends.
For weeks, Katie and Cindy endured the almost constant sexual harassment at the hands of the assistant principal. In mid-October, after Cindy suffered an attack similar to Katie’s from fifteen years earlier, the two teachers designed a unique method to teach the six predators a lesson they would never forget. Katie and Cindy dubbed their plan, Six Red Apples.
Read this mystery-thriller to experience the dilemma the two teachers created for themselves, and to learn the true meaning of real justice. And, eternal friendship.
Chapter 22
Wednesday night after Prayer Meeting, Ryan, Fulton, Danny, and Justin joined Warren in his man-cave in the basement of the parsonage, entering through an exterior door that was located down a flight of ten steps, all hidden behind an L-shaped row of giant Blue Princess Hollies. It was at least a once-per-month custom for the five to meet. Sometimes for beer and relaxation. Other times for a boring update on Club Eden’s business and two hours of sparring egos. They all preferred the darkness to avoid attention. They also preferred Warren’s man-cave with its surround-sound stereos, one-hundred-inch custom made flat-screen TV, and his multi-volume private collection of digital porn. Tonight, the TV screen was dark and silent. As was the visitor the four men saw when they walked in and their eyes adjusted to the low-light.
“Hello fellas, please join Patrick and me.” The two of them were seated at a large round oak table nestled in a corner next to a row of floor to ceiling windows that faced a small below-ground patio that contained firewood and an overflowing garbage can of cardboard beer containers.
The four spoke or gave Patrick a half-smile as they pulled out chairs and sat at the table they had each won and lost thousands of dollars over the years in games of Texas Hold’em and Blackjack, usually drunk and horny from the beer and digital broads.
“Patrick has gotten himself into a little trouble. He’s asked me for advice.” Warren said, puffing on a giant Cuban cigar.
“What type of trouble?” Fulton said. It was as natural as the sunlight each morning. He was the most intellectual and, by default, the unelected spokesperson for the four. His connections and those of Warren’s gave the two the floor to speak first and to guide the group’s overall conversations.
“He let his ego and his animal urges leap himself into the wrong tree. To put it plainly, our friend and rising community star had a roll in the hay with Cindy Barker. Cindy didn’t choose to be in the hay.” Warren said, now sipping his customary Bourbon.
“You mean he raped Cindy Barker?” Danny asked, standing, and walking behind the bar to a hidden refrigerator for a can of Bud Light.
“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t really force her.” Patrick responded, looking only at Warren.
“There’s different types of force, physical and psychological. If she didn’t consent to having sex with you then you raped her.” Fulton as usual attempted to bring clarity and avoid lazy and ignorant thinking.
“There’s something else you four need to know. Patrick and Cindy’s interactions took place at Club Eden.” Warren said, pouring more Bourbon and acting as though he would continue speaking.
“What the fuck?” Ryan’s voice rose to overpower the stereo, even though it was not on.
“I take full responsibility. You could say I’ve been grooming Patrick for nearly a year. I promise you I’ve followed every rule and protocol our fathers established after the Micaden Tanner debacle.”
Micaden Lewis Tanner was a high school classmate of the fathers of the men present, excluding Patrick. Their fathers, known as the Flaming Five because of their star basketball-playing reputation, had agreed Micaden could become a member. He was the first and only member outside the five families: the Tillman’s, the Adams’, the Ericson’s, the Radford’s, and the Billingsley’s. The Club was still reeling from the aftermath of that decision. The deaths of two teenagers during the Flaming Five’s high school graduation party in 1972 had ignited a firestorm in the gut of Micaden Tanner. For almost forty years, Tanner, an attorney, had haunted the Flaming Five. Now, the entire group was fighting State and Federal criminal indictments.
“Looks like you’ve done a really good job. You’re not-yet-honorary Club member not only had access to the Club’s secret hide-a-way but used it to commit a crime.” That is just what we need, especially with a missing videotape that was nowhere to be found at Raymond’s house.” Justin declared lighting up one of Warren’s cigars.
“Out of order.” Fulton almost shouted. He knew Justin had said something no one in the world should hear and now someone had, a someone who was not a member of Club Eden.
“Hell, we might as well talk about anything we want. Seems to me Patrick is now, by default, one of us. Warren, I don’t like these type surprises.” Ryan said realizing he had opened himself up for ridicule.
“You’re one to call the kettle black my friend.” Danny said, returning from the bar with five beers.
“I move we are open for business.” Warren said, referring to the Club’s official rule and its purpose to place every issue on the table when the majority present approve the motion.
Fulton, Danny, and Justin all raised their hands. Ryan abstained.
“Motion carries. First, let’s go back to our first order of business. Patrick’s situation. You may not have put it together, but we have an even worse problem. Patrick says Cindy is very good friends with Katie Sims, yes, our Katie, as though I had to be so redundant.” Warren was simply doing his duty. He was the Club’s President for another three years. Long ago the Club had decided the top leadership term would coincide with that of the U.S. President.
“I assume you believe Cindy will tell Katie and then all hell is going to break loose. Correct?” Fulton said.
“Absolutely.” Warren said, looking over at Patrick and nodding as though directing him to speak.
Patrick complied. “I honestly don’t think Cindy will go public. On the drive back from Club Eden to her car parked at the church, I told her I was sorry and that I would never bother her again. I also told her she should keep quiet, that if she spilled the beans her and Steve’s relationship and that of her family would be destroyed.”
“How did she respond?” Fulton asked.
“She didn’t really say anything, but when I looked over at her, I’m sure she nodded her head in agreement.” Patrick said.
“That’s reassuring. What more could we want?” Ryan said, the most sarcastic son of the Flaming Five. “What if the two lovely ladies have a little accident? Wouldn’t that solve our problem?”
Justin quoted his oft-repeated claim: “he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
“I kind of wish it were that simple. Here’s a note our dear Katie gave me a couple of Sunday’s ago when she was passing through the end-of-service hand-shaking line. It reads, ‘Videotape quality is amazing. Perched like an assassin.’” Warren said, placing the small note in the middle of the table to allow everyone an opportunity to read.
“Sounds like a literature teacher. Rule one, there is deep meaning within the words. First, the obvious. Katie has the tape, has watched it, and has found it provides clear-cut evidence that could sink every one of our ships. Maybe not so obvious, but for the trained reader, ‘perched like an assassin,’ likely means the videotape itself is a separate and distinct entity from her, and that it, by itself, is ready with deadly force. Here’s the bottom line, getting rid of Katie, or Katie and Cindy, will probably trigger deadly shots to your heads and mine.” Fulton said looking at and pausing a long ten seconds at each man at the table other than Patrick Wilkins. “Patrick, if Cindy tells Katie what you did to her then don’t think for a second that Katie’s little assassin won’t turn its rifle towards you.”
For another two hours the six men batted the ‘what should we do?’ ball around the table. At midnight, Patrick asked if he could be excused. All agreed and each son of the Flaming Five was thankful it was the honorary member who had made the request.
After everyone left Warren’s man-cave, he turned down the light-dimmer, poured another glass of Bourbon, and looked through the glass windows onto the patio. The stack of last year’s unused firewood loomed large. As he grew sleepy, he repeated to himself: ‘we six are no better off than a stack of seasoned wood. No doubt, only one match-strike from going up in flames.’
The Pencil Driven Life 