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 40
Five sealed envelopes were taped to the outside door to Warren’s basement Wednesday night when Fulton Billingsley arrived. He had walked over from the church after Prayer Meeting and, as he walked down the stairs onto the patio, noticed them, thinking they were arranged in the shape of a heart. None of the five envelopes contained a return address. The names were handwritten. His was on the top right, opposite Justin Adams’. Then, on the right side was Danny Ericson. At the bottom tip was another canary-colored envelope with the name Ryan Radford, written, this time, in blood-red ink. On the left side, was an envelope addressed to Warren Tillman. Five canary-colored envelopes, five arranged in a heart shape. Fulton removed his envelope, noticing for the first time the faint outline of an arrow, drawn with what appeared to be pencil, with the arrow’s imaginary feathers splayed on the top left side of the door, running downward, and from behind the heart, bursting through and continuing on across, ending on the lower right side of the door in an sharply-accentuated arrowhead. He walked inside Warren’s man-cave, leaving the other four envelopes alone.
Within ten minutes, while pondering the contents of his letter, Fulton saw Warren, Ryan, Danny, and Justin descend the stairs and react to the decorated door. They didn’t linger. Warren removed all four envelopes, semi-shouted, “this can’t be good,” and herded the other three through the glass door.
“I bet each of you a thousand bucks your letter is the same as mine.” Fulton said, gulping the last sip of a Bud Lite.
“What the fuck?” Ryan said, jerking all four of the envelopes from Warren’s hand while Justin and Danny were grabbing at Ryan as though he was withholding their candy.
“Calm it and sit down. No need to get flustered. Everyone gets a prize. Fulton said. His best attempt at humor, reeling from the bomb that had exploded when he had opened his envelope.
In less than a minute, four similar bombs ignited.
“So, Katie Sims wants $250,000 from me for child support.” Danny said.
“She wants that from me and another $2,000 per month until Cullie is twenty-one.” Ryan said, throwing his wadded envelope into the glass window towards the patio.
Warren and Justin repeated Danny’s statement.
“That’s $1,250,000 in cash. Warren said, finally sitting down at the round table with the other four.
“Mine says I’m Cullie’s father. How the hell does she know that?” Ryan said.
“Read on Brother Radford. In mine, towards the bottom, she says, ‘even though the paternity tests reveal Ryan Radford as Cullie’s father, each of you engaged in the same criminal conduct. Then, all chose to play. Now, all will pay. You don’t get to choose.’” Fulton said.
“Listen to this, ‘your little fire didn’t destroy the videotape revealing you gang-raping me in 2002. It also didn’t destroy another rather-revealing videotape. This one recorded at 5583 Bruce Road, at the home of Beverly Sims. Don’t worry, both tapes are safe and secure and under the control of an out-of-town attorney.’” Warren said.
“She can’t prove that. There’s no way she has any evidence we torched that old shit-hole place.” Ryan added, sitting up straighter as though gaining confidence in his ability to handle the wily Katie.
“Read the second paragraph on the second page. ‘I guess you didn’t plan on Nanny and me having a state-of-the-art motion-activated camera while you were pouring gasoline.’ Looks like she has more videos. Our asses are grass my friends.” Fulton said opening his second beer.
Warren stood again and walked to the glass windows. “The audacity of Katie coming down here and taping these envelopes. Who does she think she is?”
“She answers that in her letter. Look at the P.S. ‘You bastards killed my mother, my grandmother, and our dear friend, Sammie. Just think of me as the avenger. You five are going to pay. The child support money is just the beginning unless you pay by November 15, 2017.’ Damn that woman.” Justin said looking at Ryan. “It’s your damn fault.”
“What the hell are you talking about? You raped her just like I did.” Ryan said, slamming a fist on the table.
“I’m not talking about the rape. I’m talking about letting Darla find that damn videotape and then the stupid way you got rid of her.” Justin said to Ryan as though he was a prosecuting attorney.
“Gentlemen, enough of that. We are in this spot, together, and we will get out of it, together. Question, Ryan, tell us what Sheriff Waldrup had to say after you finally got to talk with him?” Fulton asked.
“He was just fishing. He obviously doesn’t have any real evidence. All he has is circumstantial. Even that points just as much to Cynthia as it does to me. He thinks because she and I both had a motive to get rid of Darla that that’s what we did. The bad blood between Darla and Cynthia puts her more in the dock than me, especially when you bring in Cliff Thomas and now the murder of Nathan Johnson. I think we’re okay.” Ryan said, not convincing anyone but maybe himself.
“I think we’ve got bigger problems than Sheriff Waldrup.” Fulton added. “You can bet your last dollar that Katie Sims and Cindy Barker are cross-pollinating. They’re sharing everything. Thus, Katie knows about Cindy’s pregnancy. By the way, good work Justin on verifying this news. As for Cindy, if my theory is correct, she knows about Katie, what we did to her in 2002, the paternity testing, and no doubt, these money demands. I say we can’t take a chance any longer that Cindy, that Cindy and Katie, won’t spill the beans to dear old Steve. Katie is right, money isn’t our biggest problem. Steve is the type to make us bleed, slowly bleed out until we’re all dead.” Fulton, next to Warren, was always able to put things in proper perspective.
“Money may not be the biggest issue, but sweet Katie has given us a deadline. What do we do?” Danny asked.
“What if we negotiated a little?” Warren asked. What if we offered a little extra money in exchange for the videotapes and her confidential agreement promising to end her vendetta?”
“I think you may be forgetting Steve and the problem I suspect he has with his wife carrying Wilkin’s baby. Don’t forget, no doubt Cindy saw you pastor and you didn’t do anything to help her when our dearly departed Patrick was kidnapping her.” Fulton said, keeping clarity from getting ignored.
“This is getting expensive but that just means we have to reach an agreement with the Barker’s also.” Warren said.
“We better be doing something pretty quick. I have a bad feeling about leaving the blood-thirsty Steve on the loose.” Danny said.
“Just say the word and I’ll deal with him just like I dealt with the Texas idiot.” Ryan added.
“Enough for the night. We all need to go do a little soul searching.” Warren said, folding his two-page letter and stuffing it into his pants pocket.
Saturday night, it finally happened. Wayne and I spent almost six hours on our long-delayed Huntsville trip. It was a date. I will never forget what he said when he picked me up, “Katie, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.” Even though he was stretching the truth quite a bit, I was still, even in my mid-forties, a head-turner. An hour-glass figure tends to do that.
We ate at The Bottle on Washington Street. We shared a chicken and mushroom curried soup, followed by an arugula, pear, and candied walnut salad, and finally: sea scallops and grouper main dishes. It was the most romantic meal I’ve ever experienced. We had one of the best tables in the house, in the far back corner, the furthest from the lights of the kitchen. Our single candle was just enough for us to make out our food and for me to see the rugged beauty of Wayne Waldrup.
After a leisurely ninety-minutes at The Bottle, we went to see November at the Touchstar Cinemas at Madison Square. I guess it was fitting since it was now the month of November. Thirty minutes into the movie neither Wayne or I could figure out why we had chosen such a weird show. I suspect it was the word romance plastered along the bottom of the marquee outside the theater as we were pondering. Werewolves have never interested me. The two main characters, a young farm girl named Liina, and Hans, a village boy she is hopelessly and forlornly in love with, did do for us one thing I thoroughly enjoyed. Wayne held my hand after the two lovers exchanged their first kiss. I was afraid he would release my hand when Liina turned into a werewolf from her longing for Hans. I’m glad he ignored his best chance to pull away when Liina jumped into an ice-cold pond. I was impressed. The kind, gentle, and respectful Sheriff remained handily engaged, which gave me hope he would later have the desire and the skill to move his hands over every inch of my body. The two glasses of wine from The Bottle were no doubt loosening up all my remaining inhibitions.
During the return trip home Wayne updated me on his investigations. I hoped they wouldn’t distract us from what I was wanting.
“I’m sorry I don’t have any good news to share concerning either of your cases. If I had to guess, and I don’t like guessing and you can’t repeat me, I’d say Cynthia Radford is responsible for Darla’s death. Concerning the fire and the deaths of Beverly Sims, your grandmother and her caretaker, Sammie, I’d have to say it has something to do with the two recent arsons over in Cherokee County. Of course, that’s a big leap. I don’t have a single shred of evidence to support my guess.” Wayne said reaching for my left hand as he drove us over the big river bridge in Guntersville.
“Changing the subject, but have you learned anything new about my assistant principal, Patrick Wilkins?” I said, thinking it would be appropriate to show my concern over a missing co-worker.
“Actually, I do. Again, Katie, you must promise you will not divulge this to anyone. We’re withholding this information for now.” Wayne said. I hoped he didn’t sense the sweat popping out on my left palm.
“I promise. I hope you know you can trust me.” I said.
“Absolutely. Yesterday, I received a call. At first, the woman tried to remain anonymous, but finally, after I relayed her name from the caller ID, she confessed fear of getting involved. Terri Logan said her two boys and a friend of theirs saw a tan-colored van. Since it was Fall Break, the boys had camped out Sunday night in a tent across the road. Terri’s house is on Tanner Road, about a half-mile from the stop sign where it intersects with Aurora Road. According to Paula, Wilkins’ wife, Tanner Road is part of Patrick’s early morning running route.
Terri said the boys had walked across the road back towards the house when they saw a van stop a few hundred feet from them, back towards the stop sign. Apparently, they didn’t linger and had walked on to the house. That’s not much but it’s given us a lead on a certain area to search for additional clues. That’s all I know but will keep you posted. I know this doesn’t involve you directly, but you did work with the man.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” By the time Wayne pulled up at my back door my romantic feelings and my sexual desires had transformed into a fear-generating sickness that had my stomach predicting a near-certain eruption. Wayne clearly wanted to come in, but I had to beg-off, telling him that it wasn’t the first time that seafood had made me sick. I apologized profusely and hopefully made him realize that I was truly disappointed. I forced myself to kiss him semi-passionately but promised him that we would have time soon to cuddle on my couch.
After he left, and with Cullie at Cindy and Steve’s, I spent the next two hours with the TV blaring and me trying my best to ignore the thoughts of doom that were dancing around in my head.
The Pencil Driven Life 