Seabee's Homecoming -- Ch. 01
by Ghostwalker
(With input by
Irish Lass
and edited by
LarryInSeattle
)
"Finally," I sighed as I dropped my duffel bag in the front hallway. It had been almost four years since I'd been home. Four years filled with ups and downs but now it was over ... I was home.
As a kid, I'd never dreamed that I'd end up in the military. In fact, I'd always planned on working for my dad's construction company.
"But that's not how things turned out,"
I thought as I slid back in time to 'that night'.
The storm was later called one of the worst in over 50 years. My dad had stopped work at the construction site as soon as the lightning started. Shortly afterwards, my sister and I got sent home when the power in our school went out. Mom wasn't so lucky. She was the PM supervisor at the local hospital so she had to stay. But, knowing her, she would've stayed anyway just to make sure everything was okay. It wasn't until almost midnight that we began to worry because she wasn't home. Dad called the hospital a little while later and was told that she'd left just after 11 o'clock. From that moment on, his fingers became a blur as he called anyone and everyone he could think of.
"She's probably staying at one of her friend's houses instead of driving in this shit," he'd reassured my sister and I. But we kept asking ourselves,
"Where is she?
Why hasn't she called?"
We got our answers about two hours later when the Sheriff's car pulled into the driveway. We all knew Sheriff Keller. He was exactly the opposite of what most people think of when they imagine a cop. He was only 5-foot 8-inches tall, skinny, and always had a smile on his face. Except tonight, the look on his face said everything we didn't want to hear.
"Sheriff," my dad said in a voice I barely recognized.
"Dan."
"Where?" he asked matter-of-factly.
"The bridge over Little Eagle Creek."
"How?"
"Drunk driver."
"I mean how bad?"
The Sheriff hesitated before replying, "She didn't feel a thing."
In the split second that followed, my world collapsed as I watched my dad crumble to the ground and heard my sister scream unlike anything I'd ever heard before. I have no idea what happened after that, everything just went black.
I woke up the next morning in my bed, wearing my favorite pajamas, and vaguely heard people talking in the living room. Hoping beyond hope, that the night before had been a terrible nightmare, I ran from my bedroom. The sight of my grandmother sitting on the couch, her head cupped in her hands, as she cried told me it hadn't been.
"Oh, baby," she wept when she saw me. "I'm so sorry," she continued as the tears streamed down her face. Just then my dad walked in. I could tell he hadn't slept from the heavy bags under his eyes.
"Dad?"
He didn't say a thing as he put his cup of coffee on the counter and stretched out his arms. I felt like a zombie as I collapsed into them. I'd never seen my father cry so hard. The top of my head soon felt like I was back outside in the rain. At some point, my sister and grandmother joined us and we cried until we couldn't anymore.
Afterwards, the four of us sat down and talked. We talked about mom, about what might have happened, and about what to do next. Sheriff Keller showed up just about that time and was able to fill in some of the blanks for us.
"Normally, I wouldn't be able to tell you this," he began, "but the other driver has already confessed so we're just finishing up the paperwork before he goes before the judge on Friday."
"Yeah. What's the son-of-a-bitch got to say about how he killed my wife!" my dad snarled.
"He ... ahhh. Why don't I just tell you what we've found out and then you can ask me any questions you have? Okay?"
My sister and I nodded our heads while my dad sat there stone-faced.
"Katherine ... excuse me ... your mom left work just after 11 o'clock. Several of her friends offered to let her stay with them because of the storm but she insisted she had to get home. She got as far as the bridge over Little Eagle Creek. The driver of the other car admits he was drunk and wasn't sure if he had his headlights on or not when he hit your mom from behind. We're pretty sure he didn't so your mom didn't even know he was there until it was too late. Any chance she might have had of avoiding what came next was wiped out because of how slippery the bridge was." He paused before continuing. "She went into a spin and hit one of the support beams, then went through the guardrail, and into the creek. Because of the storm, the water was about 6 feet above normal so her car sank completely. The other driver was knocked-out. When he came to he saw the damage to his car and thought he'd hit the bridge. He called 911 for help and it wasn't until the rescue crew got there that anyone noticed the damage to the guardrail and realized what had actually happened."
"So he walked away with barely a scratch and my wife is dead," my dad snarled again. "Well, I'll tell you what ..." He faltered as tears once again ran down his face, "If he gets away with this I'll make sure he never sees the next sunrise."
The look on Sheriff Keller's face left little doubt that he was serious about what he was going to say next. "I can't say I fully understand what you're feeling but I can tell you that for yours and the kid's sake I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that ... unless something does happen to the other driver. Then I'm not gonna have a choice. You understand?"
"Yeah," my dad grumbled as he walked out of the room.
"As for you kids, if there's anything you need just let me know."
"Yes, sir," my sister and I replied.
"Can I ask one question before you go?" my grandmother asked, softly.
"Sure."
"When did ...?"
The Sheriff stared at us before answering and I could see an inner battle going on before he finally replied. "From what we know right now, she probably died when her car hit the support beam. It's doubtful she felt a thing because it happened so fast."
"Thank you," my grandmother whispered as she looked down at the cold cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of her. The tears began running down her face again.
"I'm really ...," he faltered, "I have to go. Duty calls and all that but remember what I said, if your family needs anything, anything at all give me a call," he finished.
As strange as it may seem, it wasn't until I heard the 'click' of the door closing behind him that it hit me ... my mom was gone. I'd never see her smile, hear her laugh, or feel her touch again. It was like a dark cloud wrapped itself around me and squeezed until I couldn't breathe.
We had mom's funeral two days later. I was still in shock so I didn't remember much except for a lot people that showed up to say they were sorry for our loss.
The trial was a different thing entirely. I can still remember every second from the time the other driver walked into the courtroom until he was sentenced to 6 years in prison ... only 6 fucking years!!! The defense lawyer had pleaded that there were 'extenuating circumstances'. He insisted that if not for the rain my mom would have been able to get control of her car and avoid what happened. He made it sound like it was my mom's fault!! I thought my dad was going to climb over the rail and kill the bastard and his lawyer right then and there. Instead, we went home and tried to have some kind of life without mom but it didn't work.
Almost instantly, we realized the sunshine and rock of our family was gone. After that, we drifted around doing things but the happiness that had once been there was gone. My sister stayed around just long enough to graduate and then went to live with my grandmother a couple of hundred miles away while dad escaped in his own way, sinking into a cycle of deep depression and binge drinking until he could barely walk. I soon followed his lead and drank whatever I could get my hands on. It's ironic when you think about it. My mom gets killed by a drunk driver and I end up just as bad.
It had been almost a year after mom's death that everything finally caught up with me. I'd been drinking most of the day when I got pulled over by, of all people, Sheriff Keller. He charged me with drunk driving, disorderly conduct, and a couple of other lesser violations.
For the next 3 days, I sat in jail awaiting my trial. I'd hoped my dad would show up but no such luck. Instead, Sheriff Keller stood up for me when the judge asked if anyone would like to speak on my behalf. After hearing about my mom and what had happened to my family the judge gave me a choice; jail or the military.
Once again Sheriff Keller stepped forward, this time explaining how he'd been in the Navy and how it had helped him. So, I joined the Navy and soon after boot camp, found myself attached to a Construction Battalion, also known as the Seabee's.
I had done pretty good since then. After four years, a lot of studying, and more than a little luck, I was a Petty Officer First Class and was thinking about making the military my career. That was when I got the message. My dad was dead and my step-mom needed me home as soon as possible. And to make matters worse he'd been dead for almost a month.
"A MONTH?
What the fuck?
And what the hell is this shit about a step-mom?!"
I'd asked myself since I didn't know a thing about her.
Two weeks and a lot of paperwork later, here I was standing in the foyer of my old house.
"Hello? Is anyone home?" I called out.
"Who the fuck are you? And what the fuck you doin' in this house?" a gruff voice snarled from behind me.
When I turned, I found myself looking at a middle-aged, overweight man wearing a wrinkled shirt, tie, and black pants that had definitely seen better days.
"This is ... was my dad's house. Who're you?"
"I'm ... ahhhh ... I was your old man's business partner," the guy replied as he pulled in his stomach and puffed out his chest.
For a second he reminded me of the puffer fish I'd seen while diving and I had to work hard not to smile. "Glad to meet you," I said as I stretched out my hand.
"Glad to meet you too," he replied as he moved down the hallway and shook my hand.
His handshake was weak and felt slimy almost like an eel. "So what are you doing here?" I inquired.
"I was ... ahhhh ... here talking to your step-mom about the business."
"Ohhhh. So she's here?"
"Yeah. She's ..." he started to answer but hesitated as he looked down the hallway toward my parent's old room just as she stepped into view.