Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series) (4 page)

His
mind took him away. He was in the house where he’d played, slept, and lived as
a child. A noise had drawn him from bed, out of the light sleep he had fallen
into. As he walked from his upstairs bedroom, down a long hall, he shied away
from the open doorways. He just knew that someday something terrible would come
into his home, lurk unseen in the cracks and corners of the dark and desolate
rooms of the house, watching, waiting, seeking out a chance to destroy.

He
scurried silently over to the top of the stairway. Voices had drawn him. Quite,
cruel tones were coming from the kitchen. What was in his house? He had to see.
Breathing hard from anxiety, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled
over to the edge of the top step where he lay down on his stomach. He could
feel his heart beating an erratic tempo against the floor.

He
peeked over the edge of the staircase, looking down on the scene below. There
were no bad guys, no giant two headed reptile breathing out sparks of fire…
just mom and dad. What were they doing up so late?

“Keep
your voice down. You’ll wake up Jason,” his mother hissed.

“Okay,
okay,” his father replied with raised hands. “All I’m saying is that if I make
the money, I should decide how it gets spent.”

His
mother just stared at her husband with the same look she’d given the men who
came and took her car away. She said they were just going to work on it. They
would bring it back soon. Dad should call those people and give ‘
em
a piece of his mind, like he used to do for momma,
cuz
it had been three or four weeks and her car was still
gone.

And
so went almost every night for the next year or so; a young Jason cowering
alone in the shadows at the top of the stairs, not wanting to hear but afraid
to not listen. Then one night there was no more arguing; there was no more
yelling… just a final silence. The next week his best friend, the one he called
dad, moved out, leaving a young Jason alone to try to sort through all the
broken promises and shattered dreams. Night after night of his own tears
wetting his pillow, left him with nothing but an empty feeling seeping into and
sealing up his broken heart. And then he cried his last tear. Tears were a sign
of weakness. No more weakness. The world would spot it and drive a wedge of
pain into it.

And
that was the main reason Jason didn’t want children. As much as he hated it, he
couldn’t help the fact that he was his father’s son. He could feel their common
weaknesses. He also could still feel what it felt like as he sat at the top of
those stairs or laid in bed at night, in that silent house, wishing to once
again hear his father’s voice in it. He couldn’t risk putting his own child
through that. He had buried those memories in the back of his mind, telling
himself that they were not important. If that was the case then why were they
among the first of his childhood memories to be resurrected?

“Perhaps
because those memories reveal some of your most life altering moments,” Dr.
Throckmorton interrupted quietly.

Jason
had only been vaguely aware of the fact that he was thinking out loud. “Could
be,” he mumbled quietly while staring blankly at the floor.

The
doctor went on. “It would seem that your money and marriage problems not only
go hand-in-hand, one with the other, but are most likely traits you picked up
from your parents. Would you agree with me on that?”

Jason
had never thought about it that way, but it seemed to kind of make sense.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he half-heartily agreed.

The
doctor leaned towards Jason as he spoke. “Once you’ve realized that, the next
thing you need to realize is that this is not your fault. Do you understand,
Jason? The things you experienced as a youth shaped you into the man you are
today.”

Jason
simply nodded.

“What
did that boy at the top of those stairs feel?” Dr. Throckmorton asked.
“Helpless? Vulnerable? Like things were out of his control?” He paused for a
moment to let what he was saying sink in before going on in a quiet voice.
“It’s not easy for a man to admit, but this has something to do with the reason
that you are here in my office today. These emotions of pain and anger from
your childhood are still present with you… and you don’t like sleeping on the
couch,” Tomas added, trying to lighten a heavy subject. Jason put on an empty
smile but didn’t say a word.

The
doctor leaned back in his chair. “As that boy sat there powerless, night after
lonely night, what would he have been willing to do to obtain even just a small
portion of control? What if he could have taken part in their discussions? What
if he could have changed their decisions?  What if he could have altered
their destinies?”

Jason
ran his fingers threw his hair. This doctor guy was stirring up thoughts that
he would have preferred to let lie… but the questions weren’t over. “Were you
able to control them?” With a slight shake of his head, Jason indicated no. “In
your personal or business life have you achieved a position of control?”

“No,”
Jason admitted, turning his head and looking towards the door.

“Why
not?” Dr. Throckmorton continued to pry. Jason just shrugged.

“It
is because you have not learned to control yourself,” the doctor stressed.
“Allow things to start spinning out of your control… next thing you know,
you’ll feel yourself begin to slip,” he said, gliding his hand by like it was
some poor soul slipping away. He then refocused his attention on Jason. “During
that impulsive buying spree on the new credit card, who could you not control?
– You,” he stated abruptly, answering his own question. “You. Jason Hathaway.
You could not…”

“I
came here about my marriage,” Jason butted in defensively. “How’s all this
stuff supposed to help me improve my marriage?”

Unfazed
by the intrusion, the doctor responded, “Your marriage is improved by improving
the one person that you should be able to control… yourself. Did you take the
time to notice the images in the waiting room?” There was a hint of arrogance
in his voice. “They are of some of our most distinguished leaders from the
past. I had each one of them placed there for a reason and that reason being
they all had one thing in common and that one thing was total self-control.
Winston Churchill once said, ‘
History will be kind to me for I intend to write it
.’ Do you think he could have controlled the outcome of
history without controlling himself?” Jason shook his head. “Here’s my point,”
the doctor said, leaning back in his seat. “A woman wants a leader, right? A
woman wants a hero. Well, heroes are in complete control.”

Hero?
Jason’s mind gave a jolt as he sat up in his chair with a gleam in his eyes. “A
hero,” he uttered in an astonished tone. ”A woman wants to be rescued!”

“Exactly,”
the doctor replied, delighted that they were finally getting somewhere.

“Just
like in the movies,” Jason went on in awe of the discovery, “the damsel is in
distress, and when it seems that all hope is lost, right at the last moment,
the hero steps in and risks everything to save her.”

“Yes,”
the doctor said, giving an amused smile. “Something to that effect anyways.”

The
gears in Jason’s mind were turning, and he was coming up with a crazy idea; one
that could revolutionize, not only his marriage, but the whole institution of marriage.
Scooting to the edge of his seat and leaning as close to the doctor as
possible, he posed his wild idea. “Would you help me stage a situation where
she needs to be rescued?”

Dr.
Throckmorton gave him a blank look. Their minds were obviously not chugging
along the same track. “What? Who?” he stammered, trying to catch up.

“Misty,”
Jason explained excitedly. “You know – my wife! We could stage a little trouble
so I would have the chance to rescue her and be the hero.” The words tumbled
out in an anxious gush.

“That’s
not what I meant,” Dr. Throckmorton stressed, sounding a bit annoyed. “A
situation where a woman needs to be rescued is not something you can make
happen... it just, well, happens.”

“I
can’t wait for that,” Jason said with a wild look in his eyes. “Can’t take that
risk. What if nothing bad ever happens to her?”

“Yeah,
you’re right,” the doctor scoffed.  “That would be terrible.”

Jason
didn’t pay any attention to the doctor’s lack of confidence in the idea. “I
really don’t see any reason not to,” he insisted. “We wouldn’t be doing
anything illegal, and as long as we keep it under our control, no one would get
hurt.”

The
doctor’s expression turned from unconvinced to hesitant, from hesitant to
thoughtful before an interested look came to his eyes. Something Jason said
must have caught his attention because, after hesitating another moment or two,
he leaned forward, listening as Jason began laying out the details.

A soft breeze gently stirred the dark
waters trapped lazily inside concrete banks, as if urging it to awaken; light
from surrounding buildings brought the soft ripples to life, displaying an
array of dancing color. Laughter floated back and forth across the waterway,
and in the distance, live music could be heard drifting up from some venue
downstream. Though some might call it late, the night was still
live
and well on the River Walk in Pueblo, Colorado.

The
inside of Angelo’s Pizza Parlor was bustling with the activity due a weekend
night in spring, so Jason and Misty wandered out the back door that opened up
to a view of the waterway. Off to one side they found a nice, dimly lit corner
on the porch, several feet higher up than a larger group of tables down by the
River Walk. The outdoor dining area was surrounded by a short fence made of
iron with a gate that let out to the waterway. Jason scooted a chair away from
the table for two and motioned for Misty to be seated.

“My,”
she said with a smile, “aren’t you a gentleman.”

“Tonight
is special,” Jason said, returning her smile as she sat down.

“Well,
you couldn’t have picked a better spot,” Misty replied happily. “Even though I
work here, I never get tired of eating down by the river at night. Plus it
seems like forever ago since we’ve been on a date night here.”

“I
haven’t seen you here in a while,” a voice spoke happily to Jason after he’d
seated himself.

“Yeah,
Misty keeps me on a pretty tight leash,” Jason said as he grinned up at the
lady who appeared to be in her mid-forties. He couldn’t remember her name, and
it was unreadable on her nametag due to the dim lighting, but she was the
manager and had been for as long as Misty had been a waitress there.

“I
find that hard to believe about Misty,” the manager replied with a laugh.
“She’s like her sister, Susan, always easy going and one of the best waitresses
I’ve ever had,” she spoke and shook her head slightly as she looked at Misty,
memories burning deep within her eyes.

“Is
Susan here tonight?” Misty asked hopefully.

“Nope,
sorry,” the lady answered. “This is her night off.”

“So
tell me,” Jason spoke slyly, “you say Misty is one of your best and easiest
going waitresses; do all your best and easiest going waitresses dump food on
the customers?”

The
manager frowned slightly, looking up as if searching her memory. “She did dump
food on you once, didn’t she?” she asked then her frown turned into a smile. “I
remember a little later that evening walking in on you and your sister,” she
said, switching her gaze over to Misty. “You were both giggling and you said
something about how good ‘that guy’ looked with his ‘flowing locks of
spaghetti.” She laughed and shook her head.

Misty
smiled but looked a bit uneasy, however this was all new news to Jason; he
wanted to hear more of it.

“I
really don’t know what happened that night,” the older lady went on. “She never
spilled any food or even a drink before or after that night. I guess fate just
took over and decided that you two should be together.” She smiled at the
couple and let out a happy sigh. “I guess the Good Lord knew what he was up to
because
y’all
sure do make a fine couple.” With that
she leaned over and gave Misty a gentle hug.

A man
approached behind the waitress and stood still. “This is Brent,” she said
introducing the young man after she became aware of his presence. “He’ll be
your waiter this evening.” Then with a smile she added, “But if there’s
anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

After
the waiter took their drink orders and left, Jason and Misty began making small
talk. “She’s right,” Misty spoke. “We haven’t been here to eat in a while.” She
leaned closer to Jason and cocked a flirtatious eyebrow at him. “What made you
decide to take me here tonight?”

The
truth? Jason had brought her to this place to trick her into believing that he
was the man he knew he was. One might say he’d arranged for a little
entertainment to go along with their food. Dinner and a show – It just didn’t
get any better than that.

“I,
um,” Jason began, “I just started thinking about the other evening… you know,
about the new credit card and all.” He hadn’t realized making up an explanation
would lead to him apologizing for something she did wrong. “I just wanted to
make sure that, you know, we’re okay.”

“Yes
Jason,” Misty smiled. “I think we’re okay.”

Jason
knew that tonight was for nothing other than toying with her emotions. It was
about himself – getting what he wanted. As a result, a twinge of undeniable
guilt plagued his consciousness. However, at this point he was willing to do
almost anything to relive the thrill that their marriage had once shared. If a
little trickery was needed, a little trickery he would use.

“Sure
is a pretty night,” Misty commented as she gazed along the edge of the roof, up
into the depths of heaven. “You can actually see a few stars from here.” She
drank in the awesome beauty of it all as she took a sip of her tea that had
just arrived at the table.

Jason
stared blankly at the door that led into the restaurant, looking for someone
out of place or trying to give him a signal. That would likely be his
accomplice. He wondered if his guy would come from the door that led into the
restaurant or from the direction of the River Walk.

Wham.
Something slammed against the table and made Jason’s
heart jump almost as much as he did. With wide eyes and pounding heart, he gave
Misty, who had just set her cup down a bit too abruptly, a what-in-the-world
look. This whole scheme had him on edge.

“I
was hoping that would get your attention,” she said with a dry smile. “You
haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

Jason
remembered she’d made some comment about seeing the stars, so he just went with
that, hoping it would save him.  “Yes, you can see the stars,” he said
without even glancing up.

She
noticed his lack of interest and, with a bit of frustration beginning to edge
into her voice, stated, “You didn’t even look at them.”

My,
wasn’t she observant. While she was off yapping about astronomy, he was single
handedly trying to save their marriage. Even if he wasn’t star gazing, you’d
think that she could cut him a little slack.

“I
saw them earlier,” Jason countered in an irritated tone as he cast another
quick glance at the door and then the entrance from the river.

“Is
something wrong?” Misty questioned, taking note of his irritable behavior.

At
first Jason felt like snapping something along the line of, “Yes, something is
wrong; or have you not noticed that our entire marriage is falling apart?”
Instead, he realized he was being everything but mister smooth. If tonight was
supposed to be about repairing their marriage then he really shouldn’t feel
like ripping her head off.

“Nope,
nothing’s wrong,” he lied, hoping she wouldn’t pursue her suspicion.

She
gave him a skeptic look, like she knew he wasn’t giving her the whole story but
just wasn’t sure what he’d left out. Then he saw her let it go, intent on
enjoying the night out.

Jason
realized he needed to get his game on. That was a bit too close. “How could
anything be wrong?” he asked smoothly. “It’s just you and I with the stars in
our eyes.”

“Oh,
now that was romantic,” Misty responded a bit grudgingly but with an attitude
that said if he would focus on her, forgiveness of his neglect was available.

“Yes,
it was,” he replied in a matter-of-fact way. “I’ve got all kinds of dreamy
little sayings like that.” He then began to recite, “Roses are red, violates
are blue, and those stars up in heaven know I love you.”

“Now
that
was good,” she praised, warming up to his jesting, “but I’m afraid I may have
heard it somewhere before.”

Jason
feigned a hurt look. “You couldn’t have. I just made it up right then and
there.”

Their
laughter mingled together through the night air as Jason began trying to relax
a bit and enjoy the evening.

A
short time later the waiter approached. “Do you need some more tea, ma’am?” he
asked pleasantly as he approached with the pitcher.

“Yes
please,” Misty answered with appreciation.

“Unsweet
right?” he questioned as he hovered the pitcher over her cup.

“Yes,”
she replied, her approval of his ability to remember what she was drinking
evident in her voice.

After
the waiter left, Misty said, “We need to be sure and leave him a nice tip. He’s
doing a really good job.”

“Yeah,”
Jason sighed. “But you and I both know that being a waiter isn’t that hard.
Really anyone can do it.”  He was just trying to get her riled up.

It
worked. “Jason Hathaway,” Misty lectured. “I’ll have you know that waiters work
harder than anyone else on this planet.”

Of
course he couldn’t just let it go at that. “Now how in the world would you know
that?” he asked. “You’ve never been a waiter before.”

Misty
started to return fire but caught herself and paused for a moment, realizing he
was right. “That may be,” she admitted, “but I’m a waitress. It’s the same
thing.”

“No,
it’s not. Not just anyone can be a waitress,” he insisted. “First of all,
you’ve got to be a woman, so I’d say that guy’s chances are slim to none.
Second, a waiter just brings the food, but a waitress, ah, a waitress, if she’s
that special kind of woman with that special kind of touch, she doesn’t just
bring the food, but rather… she serves it,” Jason concluded with a graceful
wave of his arm.

Misty’s
face was beginning to show a hint of red from blushing. “You’d better be
careful, or I’ll dump food on you again,” she teased.

Jason
held up his hands. “In that case, I surrender,” he laughed.

They
were silent for a few moments before Misty looked at him, seeming to
contemplate something deep. “Jason, what if we had extra money to provide for a
baby?” she asked, seeming to choose her words wisely. “You know, money we just
happened to have that wouldn’t affect our current lifestyle… would you be okay
with starting a family?”

Hers
was a hypothetical question, obviously, so why not give her a hypothetical
answer? “I think so,” he replied. “Like an increase in income or something?”

“Yeah,
something like that, I guess,” Misty answered.

“Why
you asking?”

“Oh,
I have my reasons,” she responded, bringing her glass of tea up to her lips and
looking away. Any other time, Jason would have pursued the subject but, at the
moment, he had bigger problems on his mind. No reason to get into the “baby
discussion” if she was willing to let it lie.

- - - - - -

Halfway
through the meal, Jason looked up from the food he had been picking at, ran his
fingers through his hair and let out a deep sigh.

“What’s
wrong?” Misty asked as she stopped the bite of salad she had moving towards her
mouth, leaving it hovering in mid-air.

“Wrong?”
Jason asked after a brief pause. “Oh, um, nothing; nothing’s wrong. I’m just
full,” he responded, avoiding the truth; which was, he was having some huge
doubts about the plan he and Dr. Throckmorton had constructed.

His
lie seemed to work. “Jason Hathaway is full?” Misty asked incredulously. “Well,
now I’ve heard everything. You never leave a bite of your Chicken… whatever it
is.”

“Marsala,”
Jason finished for her. “Chicken Marsala.” And she was right. Most times, he
would have licked his plate clean if not in a public place – but not tonight.
Tonight, unlike most times, he felt like his stomach had gotten tired of doing
an inside job and was trying to crawl out of his throat.

“Is
it not as good as usual?” Misty persisted with a half-smile, like she was
finding his lack of appetite hard to believe.

“No,
it’s good,” he responded. Take grilled chicken, put it on top of a bed of
spaghetti, drench the dish with a marsala sauce swimming with sliced mushrooms,
and it made “good” the official understatement of the year.

“Are
you sick?” she asked, half teasing, half serious.

“No,”
Jason said forcing a chuckle, “but this isn’t death, so I
can
take it
with me when I go.”

Misty
laughed and then dove off into some “you remember when” story. Jason tried to
act like he was paying attention. He nodded a lot, and said “uh-huh,” but his
heart just wasn’t in it.

She
was off on some story from back in college when she stopped mid-sentence.
“Jason!” she yelled as she rose to her feet, pointing past him, fixated on
something over his left shoulder. “He’s got my purse!”

It
was then that Jason’s evil plan came crashing back to him with the ferocity of
a stampede. Spinning around, he saw the fleeing man who had stolen her purse…
just like he and the doctor had planned.