Confession (3 page)

Billy glared furiously at Allan and wanted to smack the crap out of him.  “Where is it?  I can’t take any chances!” he screamed.  He screamed so loud that nearby boaters looked over
at their direction
to see what was brewing.

Allan opened his mouth to respond but suddenly went into a huge coughing fit and his face turned beat red.  He coughed to hard that blood ran out of his mouth and dripped down his chin.  He rushed over to the side of the boat and vomited into the lake.  When he was finished, he looked at Billy and looked scared.  He passed out and fell to the bottom of the boat.

Billy started up the engine and raced the boat off toward the dock.

Later that night, Allan lay in a room at the St. Cloud Regional Medial center.  He was asleep in his bed.  Becky sat
in a chair
by his bedside and held his hand.  She silently prayed that he would not die tonight.

The room door opened and Billy stepped inside the room.

Becky jumped up furious
out of her chair
the second she saw him.  “Get out!” she screamed at Billy who stood at the door.

“But, he’s my brother,” Billy pleaded.

“Nurse!” Becky screamed.

Billy rushed out the door at the same time the nurse entered.

She rushed over concerned something happened with Allan.   “Something wrong?”

“I don't want that man who just left to step one foot inside this room.  His name is Billy Stein,” Becky replied and looked furious.

“Yes ma-am,” the nurse said while she looked Allan over to make sure he was stable. 

The nurse was satisfied Allan was stable so she walked out the room.

Becky sat back down and stroked Allan's arm.

A month passed and Allan looked thinner while the cancer was taking over his body.  He watched TV from his lazy boy chair in his den. 

“Grandpa!” Nancy cried out while ran into the den and jumped on his lap.

Allan cringed in pain.  “Be careful sweetie.  Grandpa's not as strong as he use to be.”

Nancy gave Allan a hug.  “I’m sorry grandpa.”

Allan picked up his remote and changed to the Disney channel.

Nancy rested her head on Allan's chest and watched a cartoon. 

Becky entered with Michael, who was dressed in his soccer uniform.  “Dad, will you be okay with Nancy while I take Michael to his soccer game?”

“We’ll be fine.  I’m feeling really good today,” he replied then kissed Nancy on the top of her head.

Becky walked over and gave Allan a kiss on his forehead.  “Call my cell phone if you start feeling sick.”

“I will,” he responded while he watched Becky leave the room with Michael.  Then he looked sad while he glanced down at Nancy.   “Sweetie, did Mommy tell you that grandpa wouldn’t be around much longer?”

“Yes, but everything will be all right,” she replied without a worry.

“Why do you say that?” Allan curiously asked.

“Because Jesus will take care of you, as he loves everybody.”

Allan looked extremely worried. “I'm not sure about that.”

He looked at his wall and eyed an old 1960s era picture of himself in his Army uniform with Captain bars, and his face darkened.

T
wo weeks had passed and Becky moved Allan into her spare bedroom to watch over him.  It was their computer and exercise room but she had Marty move those items into other rooms.  She even bought him a new laptop so Allan could write when he had the strength.  She also made sure he had plenty of family pictures on his dresser.

In order to give him the constant care he needed, Becky took a leave of absence from her cashier’s job with Publix.

Allan sat in deep thought in the bed with his new laptop.  He stared at a blank Word file and pondered if he should pursue his new book idea.  He opened up a White Pages website on the Internet and searched for a phone number.  He found what he wanted. 

He turned off his laptop and set it on his bed.

He walked out of his room and looked determined while he walked down the hallway.

“Where are you going, dad?” Becky asked while Allan walked down the hallway and headed to the front door.

“I feel like taking a little walk.”

“Want me to tag along?”

“No, I’ll be fine.  I want to walk alone.”

“Okay, but if you’re not home in ten minutes, I’m looking for you,” she replied but still looked worried.

“That’s fair,” Allan said while he left through the front door and went outside.

Becky rushed over to her living room curtains and peeked out.  She watched Allan appeared to have the strength for a short walk down the sidewalk.

Sam Woods lived in a house in a neighborhood across A1A by the beach in Daytona Beach, Florida.  Sam now had a head full of white hair.  He relaxed on his back porch sipping a cup of coffee.  He quit drinking booze after he moved to the Sunshine State. 

His phone rang from the kitchen.   He got up.

Sam entered his kitchen and picked up the phone.  “Hello,” Sam answered the call.

“Ah, is this Sam Woods?  The retired FBI agent?” Allan replied from the phone.

“Yes it is.  May I help you?”

Allan quickly hung up his end of the call.

Sam stared curiously at the phone.

“Who was on the phone?” asked Cindy Leinbach, Sam’s girlfriend for the past five years.

Sam hung up the phone and saw Cindy at the entrance to his kitchen.

“I don't know, Cindy.  Someone called and asked if I was Sam Woods the retired FBI agent then they hung up.”

“That’s really weird,” she replied.

“I know,” Sam responded then shrugged it off.

“Well, I need to get home.  I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we’ll take my granddaughter Kristen to the movies,” she said then walked over and picked up her purse off one of the counters. 

Sam escorted her out of the kitchen.

Back in Kissimmee, Allan walked back to Becky’s house in deep thought. 

He went back into his room and relaxed on his bed with his laptop.  He opened a new Word file and started a new manuscript.  On the title page, he typed out A Killer’s Tale by Allan Stein.

After he wrote “Chapter 1” he stared at the monitor and pondered if he should start this new book.  He nodded in agreement and started typing.

“My name was Jimmy Nalla and have you ever wondered, why humans kill other humans?” Allan typed as the introduction.   The
need
to write this new book before he checked out of this world now became a strong desire.

“How was your walk?” Becky said while she entered his bedroom. 

“It was extremely rewarding,” he replied with a smirk.

“That’s good,” she replied then looked at his monitor.  He quickly minimized the Word file.  “So, what were you working on?” she curiously asked.

“Oh, while I was out, I had an idea for another book and started to jot down some thoughts.” 

“Well, I let you have some privacy so you can get your creative juices flowing,” she said then left the room.

Allan quickly maximized the Word file and typed some more words.

It was early March and Allan looked thinner and sicker and it was obvious his days on this Earth were numbered.   But the drive to finish his last book A Killer’s Tale was so strong that he mustered up all of his energy to complete his first draft.  This story came easier for Allan to bang out in record time than his other books. 

Becky entered the bedroom.  She saw his manuscript on his monitor while he typed away.  “How's the new book coming along?”

“I’m tweaking the final draft now,” he replied while he closed the file.

“I’m ready to do some editing.”

“We’ll see as Rodney is itching to get his hands on the manuscript before I depart.” 

“What about the Murder At Night manuscript?  Did you send it off to Rodney?” she asked while she sat down on the corner of his bed.

“Not yet.  I’ll send it along with this manuscript.”

“Good, now on this new book, does this killer get away like most of your killers?”

“It depends if the FBI agent got smarter over the years,” he responded with hopeful eyes.

“It sounds interesting.  So why can’t I edit it?” she asked a little confused.

“No baby, this one I want you to read after it’s published.”

“I don’t understand.  You’ve always let me edit your manuscripts.”

“Don’t worry.  It will make sense when it gets published,” Allan said then gave her a fake warm smile.     

Becky knew he would never cave in so she gave up.  Then she looked at the dresser where she placed a couple of family pictures.  She walked over and picked up one picture of herself when she was three years old, with Allan in his Army fatigues.  “I still wonder what I looked like as a baby.”

Allan got irritated.  “I’ve told you, we weren't into photos when you were first born the way parents are these days, with digital cameras and what not.”

Becky placed the picture back and rolled her eyes as she hit that familiar sore spot with Allan.

“I know and I also wished I had a brother or sister.”

“We decided to only have one child since you were the best kid a parent could ask for.”

Becky smiled over his compliment and walked over and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

“I’ll let you work on your book,” she said then walked out of his bedroom.

Becky walked into the living room and suddenly this creepy feeling became strong. 

She walked over to her living room windows.  She peeked out her curtains and saw a brand new Chevy Impala parked across her street.  She got pissed the second she saw Billy was inside stalking her house.

She rushed out of the living room.

She rushed down the hallway and went into her bedroom.

She rushed out of her bedroom and down the hallway. 

She rushed through the living room to the front door.

She opened up the front door and stepped outside.

Inside Billy’s Impala, he saw Becky standing outside by her front door and watched while she pulled out a Glock pistol out of her back pocket. 

“I want you to stay away or I’ll call the police!” Becky yelled out at Billy’s car.

Billy knew she was a good shot because Allan would tell him stories on how they practiced at a local gun range when she was a teenager.  He started up his car and drove away not wanting to draw a visit by the police.

Becky went back inside her house and closed the door.  She turned around and saw Allan standing four feet away down the hallway.

“What’s the matter?” he asked being concerned.

“Uncle Billy was parked across the street,” she said then walked away down the hallway still pissed.

Allan followed her into her bedroom where she tucked her Glock back in her hiding place in the closet.

Allan thought for a few seconds.  “Becky, I was wondering if you could find it in your heart to forgive Uncle Billy.”

“No!” she snapped back.

“Becky, that happened so long ago and he’s sorry.  Can't you please find it in your heart to forgive him?  He'll be your only family and has the money to take care of you.”

Becky got visibly upset and glared at him.  “I'm going to ignore the fact you forgave him for that horrible act!”

Becky stormed out of her bedroom.

Allan left her room and went back to his bedroom.  He sat back down on his bed with his laptop.  He opened up his new manuscript and his eyes welled up while he looked at his new story.

It was now April and Allan mailed the manuscripts for Murder at Night and A Killer’s Tale off to Rodney two weeks ago.

Becky and Allan sat, with a blanket around his legs, in the living room.  He now weighed one hundred and fifteen pounds.  Flabby skin remained where that pot belly once protruded.  A wheel chair was near the couch since he did not have the strength to walk anymore.

Allan glanced at some paperwork in his hand.  “Rodney’s expecting this release, as it will give you all my royalties from the sale of my new books and any royalties from my other books,” he strained to talk then handed her the signed papers.  “Use the money for Michael and Nancy’s college fund.”

Becky took the papers and her eyes welled up.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything.  I just hope my new book becomes a best seller like Rodney believes it will,” he said then coughed.

“He really believes that?”

“He does and I hope it works out the way I want it to,” he strained to tell her.

“How's that?” she curiously asked.

“I don't want to spoil the big secret, so you'll have to wait,” he said and looked like he wanted to fall asleep any second.

“I hope it's not Army secrets.”

Allan nodded his head to disagree to save his strength since talking was becoming too difficult.

Allan got a little remorsefu
l then coughed a little. 

H
e mustered up some more strength.  “Listen, I changed my mind about Uncle Billy,” he said then took a rest for a few seconds.  “Don't let him near my house or near you.  I have something I don't want him to get his hands on,” he said and took a rest for a few more seconds.  “I want you to find it and,” he said then stopped to catch his breath as talking was wearing him down.  “I want you to do what's right,” he concluded and looked glad he finally completed his words.

“That's clear as mud.  Can you help me out a little?” she said and looked confused.

“Read A Killer’s Tale,” he strained to tell her.

“You and your mysteries.  Marty should love this one.”

“I’m tired,” he said and closed his eyes.

Becky got up and assisted Allan up off the couch and into his wheel chair.

She wheeled him out of the living room and into his bedroom and up to his bed.  She assisted him on his back and made sure he was comfortable.  She kissed his forehead then walked out the room.

His eyes closed and he was soon asleep.

After dinner Becky went into Allan’s room to check up on him. 

Allan lay in bed with a blank stare at the ceiling.

“Dad,” she said while she walked up to Allan’s bed.  Allan remained silent.

She got suspicious so she felt for a pulse.  She did not get one and immediately knew he passed away. 

She dropped to her knees and cried by the side of his bed.

Marty, Michael and Nancy heard Becky’s cries and they rushed into the bedroom.

“He’s gone!” she cried out while she held Allan’s hand.

Michael and Nancy’s eyes welled up over the loss of their grandfather.

A few days later, Allan was buried in Heavenly Peace Cemetery in Orlando next to his wife Beverly.

A week later, Becky with a potted flower and a trowel in her hand, Marty, Nancy and Michael stood and stared at Allan's headstone.

"Allan Stein, Loving And Caring Father, Born September 11, 1936, Died April 12, 2005,” was written on his white granite headstone.

Becky knelt down and planted the flower by his headstone. 

Nancy knelt down and assisted Becky.

They stood up and tears ran down Becky’s cheeks. 

Nancy looked up at the sky and blew a kiss.  “I love you Grandpa.  Give Grandma a kiss for me.”

Marty placed an arm around Becky.  “We better go,” he said.

She removed a Kleenex from her purse and nodded in agreement while she blew her nose.

They walked away from Allan’s grave.

They got about fifty feet from Allan's headstone when Becky got an eerie chill.  She stopped dead in her tracks and Marty noticed.

“What's the matter honey?”

Becky turned around and saw Billy standing at Allan's headstone, and she got pissed.  “He was told I didn't want him here!”