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 46
It was Sunday night and Warren was still mad, madder than hell. Steve’s funeral this afternoon had been the first time a Tillman hadn’t officiated such a ceremony for an active member of First Baptist Church of Christ who passed away in well over a hundred years. This is how long a Tillman had been a pastor of this Southern Baptist Church. It’s also how long the tradition and record had been a source of pride for the paternal side of Warren’s family. He could still recall his great-grandfather, Rudolph Tillman, telling him, “It’s a matter of respect. If one of your active church members dies and you are not asked to perform the duties at his or her final farewell, including preaching the main sermon, then you know you have failed. You’ve lost your ability to persuade. You have become an emperor with no clothes.”
It was all Warren could think about as Fulton was castigating Danny for some call he had made. It was the first Sunday night meeting of Club Eden since Warren had been elected President over a year ago. The Club’s bylaws clearly forbade such gatherings, describing them as a violation of the ‘thou shall keep the Sabbath for it is holy’ command. Except in an extreme emergency (it too was defined in the bylaws) as called for by the President.
“Warren, you called this fucking meeting so let’s get on with it.” Ryan said standing by the glass windows watching the first drops of rain alter their path sliding down as they bumped into faint gatherings of dust that had accumulated since the last shower.
Warren shook his head as though that would dissipate his anger. “Sorry. Ryan, I hear your anger, but this meeting is imperative. I fully believe it is an extreme emergency. And, I hate to say, it is all my fault.”
Justin stood from the round table and walked over beside Ryan but looked at Warren. “I doubt your absence at Steve’s funeral would qualify for an extreme emergency. Brother Rogers from Sylvania did a great job and he didn’t wear the stupid white suit you and all your ancestors always wore.” A streak of lightning illuminated the semi-dark basement.
“See there, the light. Our white suits symbolize my faith and the faith of my fathers. Instead of black, dreary, deadly, black, the white suits represent light and light leads to life. Jesus Christ, the light of the world. For a believer, death of the body isn’t death to the soul.” Warren was using the best opportunity he had to mirror the words he might have used at Steve’s funeral. If he had been invited.
“Enough of this shit. Get on with this little meeting that I know your father, your grandfather, and your great grandfather would never have described as an extreme emergency.” Ryan said walking to the bar for a beer.
“The videotape has been altered. Katie Sims snookered us, me. That’s the extreme emergency.” Warren had dreaded saying these words ever since his discovery. While Brother Rogers officiated, Warren had, for the first time, watched the videotape Katie had given him in exchange for one million, two-hundred fifty thousand dollars, and a few written promises.
“What the fuck are you saying?” Ryan was the best of all three to ask clear and direct questions.
“I made a childish mistake. Monday, I deposited our money and she gave me the tape and signed the document all of you approved. I was in a hurry and I trusted her. Now, she has our money and we have a tape that shows about half of what went on during our, well, you know what in 2002.” Warren said.
“Maybe the tape hasn’t been altered. It is nearly fifteen years old. Maybe the other half is missing because of deterioration or something, simply an old-age issue.” Fulton said, trying to be as logical and reasonable as always.
“That’s not the case. She has added a little footage to the tape. After the halftime interruption, there is about a five-minute clip of Katie by herself talking. Apparently, she taped herself.” Warren tried to describe what he had seen but was interrupted.
“You have got to be kidding.” Danny interjected.
“Let me finish. It gets worse. Katie described how Cindy saw me when Wilkins was abducting her, and I did nothing to help. Katie accused me of being complicit in Cindy’s rape and pregnancy. The worst part, if it’s possible to separate, is her threat. She said if anything happened to Cindy, Steve, or their children, that every one of us would pay the ultimate price. Guys, don’t think that was an empty threat. The camera then turned away from Katie sitting in a chair to a series of still photos laying on a table. Several of them were of Patrick Wilkins. He was tied up and sitting back against what looked like the inside of a van. Next, there was a live clip of him. Same scene. He looked rough. He investigated the camera and said, ‘this message is for Warren Tillman, Justin Adams, Ryan Radford, Fulton Billingsley, and Danny Ericson. They know what you’ve done. They know you killed Darla Sims, Ralph Williams, and Nathan Johnson, and started the fire that killed Beverly and Sammie. My advice, given my present predicament, is for you to take them seriously, and give them what they ask. If you don’t, you will pay with your life.” When Warren finished he shook his head and looked down at the table.
Fulton stood and said, as Danny and Ryan both sat down, “I’m getting tired saying this, but we can’t cry over spilt milk. Warren’s fuck-up takes the prize, but we can’t un-ring that bell. It seems Katie and Cindy have us by the balls. I predict we haven’t heard the last of them. Damn, it just hit me. If we had known about this altered videotape before last Wednesday night we wouldn’t have pulled the trigger, literally, on Steve. Now, we’ve done the very thing Katie warned us against. Given those photos of Wilkins on the altered videotape it seems we have grossly underestimated the two teachers. Warren, I hate to say it but your fuck-up may have gotten us all killed.”
“One other thing on the videotape. I might as well pour out the whole bucket of slop. Katie claims Glenda Williams, Ralph’s wife, found a camera, one of those outdoor things hunters and farmers use. You know. Katie claims Glenda and Ralph’s son found it in the barn. She, Katie, says the camera shows the truth about what happened to Ralph.” Warren said.
“Some of this shit may be a bluff. Did she include a clip of that? Or, any shots of still photos proving that?” Justin asked.
“No, actually, she didn’t.” Warren responded.
“Don’t think that clears our path to heavenly bliss.” Fulton added. We don’t know for sure she’s bluffing. And, even if she is about that camera, we know she’s not bluffing about the tied-up Wilkins. Further, if I had to guess, she’s not lying about a videotape of the fire, how the fire started.
“Am I the only one who now knows what happened to Patrick Wilkins? Or, do ya’ll not want to admit it?” Ryan said. The sweet and sexy Katie, and the gorgeous redhead Cindy, kidnapped Wilkins. No telling where they’ve got him holed up.”
“You’re only partially right big Ryan.” Warren said as he clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Wilkins is dead and gone. Don’t you see, we all raped Katie. Wilkins raped Cindy. That’s quite enough to make them madder than hell. Someway Katie, for years, stayed away from revenge. Cindy’s rape was the trigger that ignited the smoldering coals. And, her friendship with Cindy just added fuel to the fire. Finally, none of you have heard her voice or seen the look in her eye. I have. There’s a side of Katie Sims that’s a slave to justice, real justice.”
For another hour, the five speculated over what to expect next from Katie and Cindy. Finally, before disbanding, Warren led them in a prayer to God for wisdom and protection, pleading specifically that the two women be merciful and demand more money instead of spilling their blood.
The Pencil-Driven Life 