It turned out, the man in plain clothes that blocked his mother’s path, was a detective. He brought each one of the kids, who had been in the room with Billy, outside and asked them the same questions.
Donnie sat and listened intently as Billy’s friends recounted what had happened in his brother’s final moments. He recognized two of them. Billy’s best friend, Ed Garland and Billy’s girlfriend, Suzanne Cooper. The other two Donnie had never seen before. They told the detective their names were Dexter Hughes and Chelsea Burt. Both girls were crying and the boys wore a stunned, almost vacant look. Donnie wasn’t crying, he was listening.
Each one of his brother’s friends described a game called ‘Russian Roulette’ and how his brother had spun the chamber of the gun, put it to his head and pulled the trigger. Donnie couldn’t understand what kind of ‘game’ could involve shooting yourself. It wasn’t a game Billy would ever have played with him. They said no one else had taken a turn, only his brother had played.
Donnie was listening to the fourth account when his mom realized he was hearing these details and took him into the backyard. They sat at the picnic table and someone brought them each a cold soda. Donnie looked at his mother, her eyes red from crying, and it dawned on him that they were alone. It was just the two of them.
“What are we gonna do, Momma?’
“I don’t know, Donnie. I don’t know.”
Chapter 1
“Donnie, it’s time!”
Donnie Jarvis shut down his computer and pushed back his chair.
“Coming!”
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs to take a quick look in the mirror. Brown eyes stared back at him. He ran his hand through black hair that never seemed to lie down in the same place twice. His t-shirt was clean, as were his jeans.
When he reached the top of the stairs, his mother was waiting for him in her wheelchair. Diabetes had taken its toll on her health, her legs in particular, and walking even short distances was difficult.
“Let me look at you.”
He posed for her as she swept him up and down with her eyes.
“Well, you’re clean anyway. What are you doin’ downstairs all day?”
“Just playing on the computer. Nothing special. You ready to go?”
“Yes.”
It was Sunday and for the past ten years, rain or shine, Sunday meant a visit with Billy at the cemetery. If the weather was good, like it was today, they would spread a blanket out and sit for hours. His mother would chatter on telling Billy the latest news and who was doing what to whom in her soaps. She was always happiest when they were with Billy. Of course, she never heard Billy speak back to her, it was just her way of staying connected to her oldest boy. Donnie on the other hand, did have a connection with his brother. They did speak and they had a plan.
“Okay, I’ll pull the van around.”
Donnie went out the back door to the garage. The white metal building had two parking bays but they only had need of one. Inside was parked the blue Chevy Astro. It was old and ugly but his mother could manage getting in and out of it better than most cars. Donnie had sold his Chevy Impala when his momma couldn’t drive anymore. He just took to driving the van.
He backed out and drove around front where his mother was waiting on the porch. Getting out, he helped her stand and get hold of the rail. She struggled, taking one step at a time down to the side door of the van. When she was settled, he went returned to the porch, folded the wheelchair, and put it in the back of the van. One day he hoped to get her an automatic chair lift.
Climbing back into the driver’s seat, he headed out the lane.
“Nice day for our visit, Momma.”
“It is. I so enjoy our time together as a family. A day like this makes it all the nicer.”
The driveway was a quarter mile dirt trail leading out to the county road. Their home was an old farmhouse on seven acres, located ten miles east of San Antonio. It was white with a green roof, as was the matching garage. There was an old barn that was just barely standing. It, too, used to be white but hadn’t been painted in years.
They had moved here right after Billy died. In fact, neither Donnie nor his mother had gone back inside their house after his brother’s death. His mother had enlisted a real estate friend to clean up and sell the house. His mother didn’t ask much for it, just wanting to leave it and the memories behind. She had used some of the money to pay for the funeral and the rest to buy the farm.
“I made us some ice tea to enjoy while we visit.”
Donnie hadn’t noticed the bottle in her purse but now he saw it and some styrofoam cups.
“That’ll be nice.”
The cemetery was just a few minutes from home and they arrived just after three in the afternoon. Donnie turned right into ‘Gates of Heaven Memorial Cemetery’. A fifteen minute drive on I-10 east from San Antonio, it was a small rural cemetery that relied on donations to keep the grass mowed and the gates from falling down.
As usual, they were the only ones there. He followed the dirt track to the back, around to the west and stopped in front of several stones indicating the final resting place of the less fortunate. Donnie had seen some of the nice cemeteries in the city, the ones he and his mother hadn’t been able to afford, and despite the name, ‘Gates of Heaven’ was a far cry from what his brother deserved.
He removed her wheelchair from the van and put it where she could get into it. Holding her arm to steady her, he got her seated, and pushed her over to Billy’s grave, stopping where she could reach the headstone. She leaned over, brushing the leaves away from her son’s name, before laying a single red rose across the stone.
“Hi, Billy. We’re here. I missed you this week.”
Donnie watched as his mother carried on the conversation. His mother had never heard Billy, she just pretended. Donnie’s relationship with his older brother was different. He could hear his brother. Not on these visits with his mother, but when he came on his own to make their plans.
Today, Donnie would watch, drink tea and enjoy his mother’s smiles as she shared and laughed with Billy. He would return tonight, after dark, when he could hear the voice of his brother clearly. They had further plans to make. Donnie sensed something big was coming and knew Billy would tell him soon.
Today’s visit was short, they had been there just ninety minutes, when his mother turned to him.
“I’m ready to go.”
She looked back at the rose and her son’s name.
“Bye, Billy. See you next week. Love you.”
****
When they arrived home, Donnie helped Momma back into the house and parked the van before going back to the basement.
“Don’t you want dinner, Donnie?”
“No. I’ll make a sandwich later.”
Shutting the door behind him, he descended the stairs. Switching his computer on, the password request window loaded up and he typed in ‘Brothers’. A file popped up with the names of four people listed across the top. Donnie clicked on the first name. Suzanne Cooper.
Another screen opened with a full biography of his brother’s former girlfriend. One of the first tasks Billy had given him, in their early talks, was to start a file on each person present that day at the Russian Roulette game. Donnie had made notes on the things Billy told him to look into and how to find all four people.
It had taken Donnie several years, but as he got better with his computer, he used social networks and identity searches to build each file. Now he had the address, family relations, work place and much more for each name on his list. Billy had been proud of how well he’d done gathering the information.