Benji in Control
by: E Walk
(© 2009-2010 by the Author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 42  

All Out War

Rich Caster, Uncle Howie and I watched as Cole departed with R. B.  R. B. was saying, “Cole, can we stop and grab some fast food, so I can get back to school?  I’m kinda of hungry.”

Rich laughed, “He’s a typical boy if I ever saw one.”

I made it through the my one o’clock class with no problem and realized that I hadn’t eaten.  I stopped in the office, “Karen and Alexis, unless something is happening that is causing the world to come to an end, I’m going to go get something to eat.”

Karen giggled, “I don’t know about the world ending but there have been reports that the sky is falling.  There’s nothing that can’t wait until you get some food.  We wouldn’t want the President to die from malnutrition.”

The afternoon was busy with college business.  It was three thirty when I had a phone call.  Alexis stuck her head into my office, “Dr. C., Mr. Nicely is on line one.”

“This is Doug Christiansen.” 

“Dr. Christiansen, I would like to commend Ray, Jr. on how well he handled the newscast at noon.  I think it is important that I talk to you as soon as possible.  I’d ask you to come here, but I have the feeling that my offices are being scrutinized.  Would it be possible for me to visit with you, and especially Ray, Jr., at your home, tonight?”

“Mr. Nicely, you are welcome to come to Summerhill to talk to Ray.  Do you know where we live?”

“Coach Lewis mentioned that you live near Harwood, but that’s about all I know.”

“We do live near Harwood.  It takes about ninety minutes to get here from Atlanta.  I’ll give you directions.  What time will you be here?”

“My last appointment is at four o’clock.  I’ll leave as soon after that as I can.  Is there any way that you can have the legal counsel who will be representing Ray, Jr. there.”

I chuckled, “I’ll call Uncle Howie and tell him his presence is required.  Since he lives next door to Summerhill, it shouldn’t be too difficult for him to get to the meeting.”

I called Uncle Howie and explained that we needed him to be at Summerhill about seven.

When I arrived at the house, about five thirty, there was no one in sight and there was a strange car parked in front of the house.  That sent shivers through my body.  When I walked in, the boys and Cole were talking to Mr. Block and Mr. Nicely, whom I recognized from the television show.  When Benji saw me, he pointed to the stairs, “Daddy, go get ready for dinner.  We’re having company for dinner.  Me and the guys are exhausted from cooking all day.”

“Benji, do you suppose that I could greet our visitors before I go change?”

“If you think you have to.”

After I changed, I went to sit with our guests until it was time for dinner.  The young guys had disappeared, and Cole, Mr. Block and Mr. Nicely were watching the news.  Rich Caster came on, “Ladies and gentleman, we grieve the passing of Coach Lewis, but it is time for us, as fans, to move to be ready to accept the next coach with open arms.  There is one thing that has struck me out of the untimely death and that Coach Lewis’ widow is acting like a money starved rabid hyena.  She obviously had no love for her husband, but was using him to provide the kind of life she thought she deserved.”

“In my personal opinion, she has lost contact with reality.  She accused Coach Lewis’ son of being mentally retarded.  I have met the young man and he is a very articulate and bright young man.  This goes to show that there is so much greed in the world that there is little time to stop and smell the roses.  Mrs. Lewis is a prime example of that greed.”

Mrs. Lewis dashed onto the broadcasting area, “You asshole, the people who have gained control of the moron have bought you hook line and sinker.  They’ll stop at nothing to discredit me and prevent me from getting what is rightfully mine.”

“Mrs. Lewis, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ladies and gentleman, this interruption has further demonstrated that Mrs. Lewis cares more about money and her own needs than she cares about a young boy.  She’s a prime example of a spoiled brat.  This is Rich Caster, signing off for tonight.  There is nothing more that I can add.  Mrs. Lewis has quite adequately proven my point.”

After dinner, the guys were taking care of the cleanup.  The adults were seated in the living room when Uncle Howie arrived.  Mr. Nicely started, “Dr. Christiansen, and the rest of you, Mr. Lewis came to my office two weeks ago.  He made arrangements for his son to receive all of his holdings, in his will.  Not only that, he specifically excluded his present wife from ever receiving a cent of his money.  He also had made arrangements for the mortgage on his home to be insured and the mortgage has been paid off, so the house is free of any debt.”

“I also have here a sizeable life insurance policy that names Ray, Jr. as the beneficiary.  I don’t know how to tell you to proceed to collect the funds that are due the young man without facing a full frontal attack from Mrs. Lewis.”

Mr. Block shook his head, “This gets more complicated as we go.  Mrs. Lewis was in the business office at the stadium, today  demanding that she be paid any funds that were due her husband.  The business manager took offense at her abusive tone and advised her that she would have to wait until the funds were available.” 

“The team has a $100,000 insurance policy on all the active players and the coaches, that covers them should something happen during the game.  Since Coach Lewis died during the post game ceremonies, his son is due the funds.  The company will be sending a check to Ray Jr. in the next couple of days.”

The conversation was interrupted by Benji, “Dads, we’re going to bed.  Rocky and R. B. are taking their showers, now.  Dads, you need to talk to R. B.  He’s really concerned by everything that is happening.  He’s worried that the witch is going to take him away.”

Uncle Howie went to talk to Benji, “Benji, you need to help R. B. understand that no one is going to take him away.  I’ll send your Dads up to say goodnight to you.  I need to go.  I have a lot of work to do.”

Cole and I went to say good night to the guys.  When we returned to the downstairs, the visitors were gone.

The remainder of the week went smoothly until Friday night when I took R. B. to Atlanta for the visitation at the funeral home.  Cole and I had decided that it would be best for the other five guys not to go.  I made arrangements with Greg and Jordan to take them to dinner and a movie.

Needless to say, R. B. was a little miffed, but he didn’t argue too much.  When we arrived at the funeral home, we were met by the funeral director.  R. B. asked, “Where did all these flowers come from?  I thought Dad’s obituary asked that there be no flowers.”

Mr. Torrance, the funeral director answered, “Son, you can’t control what people do.  I don’t understand why Mrs. Lewis sent those two large baskets of roses if Coach Lewis requested that there be no flowers.”

“Mr. Torrance, that woman is trying to prove that she’s in control.  She’s trying to make people think that she’s someone whom she isn’t.”

Mr. Torrance laughed, “Son, that woman has been here every day, demanding that we do something.  It got so bad that the staff ignored what she was saying.  She even wanted us to have the body put in a platinum casket.”

R. B. was looking around, “Dad Doug, what am I supposed to do?”

“R. B., for starters, stand over there, so people can pass by the casket and pay their respects to you.”

“How long do we gotta stay?”

Mr. Torrance answered, “The obituary said you would be available from seven until eight.  You need to stick it out that long.  I know that this isn’t something you want to do, but this is what your father wanted.”

The people started to arrive before seven o’clock.  There was a large number people in the home who had already paid their condolences to R. B. when Mrs. Lewis arrived all decked out.  When she saw the coffin, she yelled, “I said I wanted the casket lid open.  What’s wrong with you imbeciles?  You‘ve botched everything that you’ve done.”

R. B. asked, “Mr. Torrance, why is the casket closed?  Did my father say that he wanted it to be closed?”

“Mr. Lewis, your father was very specific in his directions that the casket was to remain closed.”

R. B. looked at his stepmother, “Dad said he wanted the casket to be closed.”

The lady was relentless, “I’m his wife, and I said I wanted it to be open.”

R. B. surprised me, “Look, lady, my Dad wanted the lid closed and it’s going to stay closed.  You didn’t pay for the funeral arrangements, and I have no idea how you’re going to pay for those dumb flowers that you had delivered.  I’m sure not paying for them.”

Everyone in the home was shocked by what happened.  Mrs. Lewis went to R. B. and slapped him so hard that he staggered backwards.  Mr. Torrance and his staff intervened as did the Falcon football team who had entered as a group.  Mrs. Lewis was physically removed from the viewing area.  

I went to help R. B. but he put up his hand, “Dad Doug, I’ll be fine.  I just want to go home.  Do you see why I hate that woman?  Can we please go home, now?”

Cole answered, “R. B., we only have forty more minutes before I beat you and this old man home.  You’re man enough to make it that long.”

It was almost eight o’clock when a man arrived and handed R. B an envelope. “Young man, this is for you.  You need to sign for it.  It’s very valuable.  Have a great weekend.”

R. B. signed the receipt before either Cole or I could intervene and the man was gone.  R. B. handed the envelope to me and I opened it.  It was a subpoena directing that Ray, Jr. appear at the county courthouse at ten o’clock on Monday morning to determine if Coach Lewis was in control of his faculties, at the time of his death.  It went on to state that Mrs. Rebecca Lewis was filing suit to be made the sole guardian for one Mister Raymond Burnside Lewis, the second, because he was not capable of making decisions for himself.”

It was a good thing that Mrs. Lewis was not in evidence, or I’m sure I would have punched her lights out.  I handed the subpoena to Cole and he whispered after he had read it, “We can’t let Burnsey know what this is about.  We need to call Uncle Howie as soon as possible.”

“R. B. was watching the clock and at eight o’clock, he asked, “Can we go, now?”

 

Cole answered, “We’re ready to rock and roll.  I’ll beat you two old men home.”

As R. B. and I were driving home, he asked, “Why didn’t Dad Cole ride with us?”

“Probably because he thought it would be more comfortable for everyone when we come for the memorial service in the morning if we had two vehicles.”

It was nearly ten o’clock when we arrived at Summerhill.  Cole was already there but it was obvious that the others were either in bed or hadn’t gotten home from their night out?  When R. B. and I walked in, Cole yawned, “What took you guys so long.  You’re so late that my blood stopped working.  The other guys have been in bed for hours”

R. B. started to laugh, “Dad Cole, if you had any blood, we might have fallen for your story.  Goodnight, I'm pretty tired.  Do I really gotta go back for the funeral?”

Both Cole and I responded, “You gotta go.”

Cole and I were watching the news,  The newscaster was saying, “Ladies and gentlemen, I saw something tonight that made my blood boil. I was covering the viewing of Coach Lewis, when I witnessed Coach Lewis’  wife slap her stepson in the face so hard that he staggered backwards.  It is my personal opinion that Mrs. Lewis has mental problems and needs psychiatric help.  I don’t know the full the story, but there is absolutely no justifiable reason for why an adult would physically abuse a young boy.”

I turned the television off, “Cole, let’s go to bed.  I want to take Mrs. Lewis out and hang her upside down and stick her head in a bucket of what the horses have left behind.”

We were starting toward the stairs when the phone rang.  I almost didn’t answer, but then I thought better of it.

“This is Doug Christiansen.”

“Doug, it’s Emily.  Pick Bertie and me up at seven thirty.  We want to go to the Memorial Service with you.  We were watching what that witch did to R. B.  I’d like to put my shoe where she’ll feel it and won’t be able to walk or sit down.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.  Cole is home and he can take some of the guys so it will be more comfortable.”

Cole and I didn’t getting much sleep.  We had some unfinished business to take care of and were discussing what had and what might happen.

We were awakened by a knock and I went to answer.  R. B was standing there with tears  running down his face, “Dad Doug, I don’t want to go the service.  My face really hurts where that woman hit me.”

“R. B., we've gotta go to the service.  We won’t stay any longer than we absolutely have to.  Go get the other guys up and tell them to wear their ties and blazers,  We have to go pick up Grandmother McBride and Grandmother Cunningham.”

“You mean the Grandmothers are going with us?”

Cole laughed, “They called last night and said they were going with us.  Maybe we can convince them pay for lunch before you come home.”

“Heck, I’ll pay for lunch, if they’re going with us..”

When we arrived at the funeral home, we were met by Mr. Torrance, “Mr. Lewis, we had to open two more sections adjacent to the area where the services are being held.  If you and your party will follow me, we’ll come and get you at the appropriate time.  Mr. Weaver, the football team is assembling in room 5 so you can walk in as a group just before Mr. Lewis and his friends.  We have reserved a special section of seats for you.”

A young gentleman entered the room where we were waiting and pinned a white boutonnière on each of us.  He led us to the area where the service was to be held and the football team was being escorted to their seats.  They were being led by Mr. Block.  R. B. looked up at me, “Dad Doug, I didn’t realize that the players were so big.  They make me feel like a midget.”

I patted him on the shoulder, “They are an impressive looking group of men.”

We had been shown to the first row of seats.  R. B. was sitting in the seat next to the aisle.  The pastor was walking to the lectern to begin the service when there was a murmur in the back of the room.  I turned around to see what was happening.  Mrs. Lewis was sashaying down the aisle nodding to people.  The thing that I was sure caused everyone to stir was that she was wearing a skin tight red halter dress that was slit down the sides but more significant was slit of the middle so that there was nothing left to the imagination since she obviously wasn’t wearing a bra.”

Grandmother McBride leaned over, “Doug, that woman has got to be a slut to wear something like that to a funeral.  In fact she should be arrested for being obscene.”

Mrs. Lewis stopped next to where R. B. was seated, “You little shit, get out of my chair.  I’m the Coach’s wife and you’re nothing but a sniveling brat.”

Benji, who was sitting next to R. B., stood, “Look, lady, I don’t know who you are, but if you’re going to dress like that, you must be in the wrong place.  This is a funeral service and Mr. Lewis is the Coach’s son.  He’s not moving, for the likes of you.”

Mrs. Lewis raised her hand as if to hit Benji.  Grandmother maneuvered her wheelchair, “Lady, you lay one hand on any of these boys, and you’ll find yourself run over by two wheelchairs, and you’d look pretty funny lying in the middle a funeral home without any clothes on.”

Two attendants arrived and physically removed Mrs. Lewis from the immediate vicinity.  I had no idea where she was, but hopefully, she had departed the area.   The service went without any further disruption until one of the football players, who had a marvelous voice, sang a solo.  After the song, the service was interrupted by the dreaded voice who was standing at the back of the room.  “That’s the only good thing about this service.  The rest of it has been a sham put on by the people who are trying to take control of my poor little son.”

This time the woman was physically removed from the rooms where the service was being conducted.  At the end of the service, the ushers escorted our row of people out, immediately after the casket.  Mr. Torrance met us, “Mr. Lewis, the first two limousines are for your party.  The second one is handicapped accessible for the Grandmothers.”

We had gotten Grandmother McBride and Grandmother Cunningham situated in the second limo with Rocky, Mark and Matt.  The rest of us went to get into the first limo.  R. B, was about to enter when the witch appeared and pushed him aside, “I’m the Coach’s wife and I’m riding in the first limo.”

Benji stood in his patented stance with his hands of his hips, “Fine, enjoy your ride to the city dump.  Driver this woman needs to go to the city dump.  Leave her there where trash like her belongs.”

We went to the second limo and followed the hearse to the cemetery. Somewhere along the way, the other limo had disappeared.  The graveside service was very short and they were lowering the casket into the ground when the missing limousine pulled up.  A very disheveled Mrs. Lewis jumped out.  Cole had been standing with the football team who had come en mass.  He grabbed his throat as if he were going to throw up. 

The lady started to scream, “How could you start without me?”

R. B. walked up to the lady, “Look, bitch, I hope this is the last time I ever see you.  You make me ill just being around you.  Come on, guys, let’s get out of here.  The smell is making me sick.”   

To be continued...

Editor's Notes: That woman is a real piece of work, isn't she?

Talk about self centered, she is really a selfish bitch.

I am so glad that R.B. is  now in a place, and with a family who loves him.

That woman will make such a fool of herself, that everyone will be able to see through her masquerade.  I think Benji will make sure that everyone knows just what kind of person she really is. 

I am ready for the next chapter. 

Darryl AKA The Radio Rancher

Posted: 11/05/10