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

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Chapter 43  

And The Winner Is

When we arrived back at the funeral home, we were helping the Grandmothers out when, Mr. Torrance approached, “I so sorry about what happened today.  That woman seemed determined to make a mockery of Coach Lewis’ service.  I’m sure we haven’t heard the last of her.  Ray, Jr., here’s the Memorials that came in last night and today.  I can’t imagine too many more coming here, since your father was very specific and asked that any memorials be sent to the First National Bank to be put into a trust fund that he had established for your college education. 

The guys went to help the Grandmothers into the van, and I was shaking Mr. Torrance’s hand and thanking him for everything when the other limo pulled in.  Mrs. Lewis jumped out, “Okay, you jackass,  I want the memorials that were left and I want them now.”

Mr. Torrance took a deep breath, “Mrs. Lewis, the instructions were that all memorials were to be deposited in The First National Bank, into an account for Ray, Jr.’s education.”

Mrs. Lewis was screaming, “I don’t care what the instructions were.  The jerk had lost control of his senses when he made the arrangements.  I’m going to the authorities and I’m going to get the money.  I can’t believe the nitwit’s friends have taken control of everyone in the hick town.”

Mr. Block and some of the team members had arrived, so they could get their cars.  Mr. Block pointed his finger at Mrs. Lewis, “Mrs. Lewis, you’re the person who has lost control of your ability to reason.  You’re really sick. After what I have seen you do these past two days, I feel sorry for you.”

Mr. Block turned to me, “Doug, we’ll meet you at the Clockwork.  It’s on the way out of town.  The guys will enjoy the restaurant and the food is edible.”

Mrs. Lewis was standing in the middle of the parking lot, looking like the fool she was, when we pulled out of the lot.  Cole was driving his truck and I had the van.  We followed Mr. Block and stopped at a nondescript restaurant that looked like an old house.  Fortunately it was handicapped accessible.  When we entered, the place was packed with people waiting to be seated.  Mr. Block made his way to the host who was on duty. 

The young man looked at Mr. Block, “Sir, if you and your party will follow me, I’ll take you to your table.”

The people waiting in line looked at us as we went into the dining room.  The guys immediately noticed that the walls were covered with all kinds of clocks that had moveable parts.  I looked at the time and it was 11:55.  At noon the action started.  There were all sorts of bird sounds and almost every description you could imagine going off.”

We had a very nice lunch.  The boys really enjoyed watching the clocks.  For that matter, so did I.  As we were leaving the restaurant, Cole announced, “We have a team meeting in an hour.  I’ll see you guys after the game tomorrow.  This is probably our hardest game of the season.  The team we’re playing has been made the odds on favorite to win the Super Bowl.”

After we had delivered the Grandmothers to the assisted living home, Mikey asked, “Daddy, can we go swimming when we get home?”

“Of course, guys, if that’s what you want to do, that’s what we’ll do.”

Benji made a beeline for the phone when we got to Summerhill.  He called Clark and Austin and told them that we were going swimming in an hour.  Needless to say we had a lot of people ready to go swimming when I pulled the tractor and wagon around to the side of the house.  There was even a surprise visitor.  Larry Morgan’s Dad was with them when they arrived. 

When we arrived at the lake, I chose not to swim and was sitting with Mr. Morgan, as the others were swimming, “Doug, you need to bring Ray Lewis, Jr. to the bank as soon as possible.  We’ve received a significant amount of money from people who have contributed to his college fund.  Larry tells me that you are now the guardian of Ray, Jr.  We need to get you on the account, and we need his signature, in case something happen to you.”
 

I shook my head trying to clear it, “Mr. Morgan, after everything that has been happening, I don’t know what to think, anymore.  We’ll be in Atlanta on Monday for a court appearance that Ray, Jr. has been subpoenaed to attend.  We’ll come to the bank, assuming that the hearing doesn’t drag on too late.”

As I was getting the boys ready for bed, Benji asked, “Daddy, are we going to church before we go to the game?”

“Benji, the game is at two.  I thought we might miss church tomorrow.  We’ve had a busy couple of days, especially R. B.”

“Yeah, he seems really tired.  Is he okay?”

“I’m sure he’s fine.  I’ll take his temperature when we get up in the morning if he still seems not to be feeling good.”

The guys were all in bed before nine o’clock.  I decided to get ready for bed and read some professional journals before I watched the ten o’clock news.  Why I was going to watch the news I had no idea.  The news came on, and the newscaster was saying,

“Ladies and gentlemen, we had the opportunity to witness one of the most outrageous occurrences that I have ever seen.  We attended the funeral for Coach Ray Lewis.  His wife showed up in a dress that was so tight and revealing that even I was embarrassed.”

I turned off the television, thinking, ‘I don’t need to listen to this drivel.  We’ve been there and done that.’

I turned off the light and had a hard time going to sleep.  I kept thinking, ‘Why was Ray, Jr. the only person to receive a subpoena.  Mrs. Lewis must think he’s the weak link.  How am I going to tell R. B. that he’s going to miss another day of school, on Monday.  I need to find someone to teach my Monday classes, for me.  But whom?’

I was awakened on Sunday morning by a voice that didn’t usually wake me, “Daddy, can you get up.  I’m really hungry.  Can you fix me one of those dippy eggs and some toast?”

I pulled Mikey on top of me, “I'll take care of your tummy as soon as I get some clothes on.”

“Daddy, why do you gotta put clothes on?  People can still see your pee wee even if you have clothes on.  Burnsey’s mother had clothes on yesterday, and they didn’t hide anything.  Did you see how her titties were almost coming out her dress?  No one said anything to her.”

“Mikey, we don’t want people to think bad things about us so we need to wear clothes.  Mikey watched as I was pulling on a pair of Bermuda shorts and a T shirt.  “Daddy, I still don’t understand why we have to cover our pee wees and our round balls.  Do people think they’re ugly?”

“Mikey, trust me.  If we didn’t cover them, we'd probably have to go to jail.  Go get some shorts on, and I’ll start some breakfast.  Do you want bacon or sausage with your dippy egg?”

“Can I have bacon, but make sure it’s hard. I gag if I can’t pick bacon up with my fingers.”

I watched as our little baby went out the door.  I was thinking, ’I have the feeling that he is going to be a very good looking young man.  With his mind, we’re going to need to make sure we answer his questions as honestly as we can.’

I was in the kitchen when Mikey came in, “Daddy, the other guys are coming.  I told them they had to get dressed so they wouldn’t get rested.”

We departed for Atlanta at eleven.  I thought that would give us time to stop to eat before we went to the stadium.  I figured that if I get the boys full, they wouldn’t ask for so much of the overpriced food they sold at the stadium.  I remembered a little restaurant that was nearby, that sold the best hotdogs during my college days, that wasn’t too far from the stadium.  I didn’t even know if it was still there.

When I drove to the area the sign for Luigi’s was still there, and there was an open sign lit in the window.  I parked in the first available parking space.  When we walked in, the place was packed.  There wasn’t a line to be seated, so I decided to wait.  It wasn’t long before a booth was vacated and a young man was cleaning the table.  He motioned for us to sit down.  The place was as I remembered.  The menus were on the table and I don’t think they had changed, except for the prices, since I was in college.

Benji asked, “Is the only thing they serve, hotdogs?”

“Yep, people come here and grab a hot dog and some cheese fries, for lunch to go.  Of course, you can have a different kind of hotdog every day, if you want.”

The young man returned, “What kind can I get you people?”

I looked at the young man, “If you were a little older, I would swear that you were Tony.”

The young man grabbed his throat, “I’ve been mortally wounded.  Please don’t tell me that I’m as ugly as my Dad.  I’m Mario.  Dad is in the kitchen, throwing hotdogs around.  If you know my Dad, you must be really old.” 

“Where’s your Granddad, Luigi?”

“Oh, he retired last year and moved to some Podunk town called Harwood.”

Benji took exception, “Mister, we live in Harwood.  What’s wrong with it?”

Mario started to laugh, “I’d better go get Dad.  I don’t understand you hicks from the sticks.  Now what can I get you?”

Mikey frowned, “I’d like a plain hotdog with catsup, some fries and a glass of milk.”

Mario called out, “One boring dog with red sauce,  a side o of fritters and a glass of moo juice.”

Mark, Matt and Benji ordered the same thing, only with different toppings.  Rocky and R. B. opted for a corndog with mustard on the side.

Mario called out,  “Two cold dogs wrapped in a blanket with yellow junk on the side, orders of fritters and two glasses of clear bubbly stuff.”

Mario looked at me, “And you sir?”

“I’ll have a mexi-hot, no fries and a glass of unsweetened ice tea.”

The six guys were waiting to see what Mario would say and he didn’t disappoint them.  “One brave heart with no sides and a glass of tasteless stuff over parts of the iceberg.”

I started to grin, “Mario, the people may have changed, but the atmosphere here is the same as I remember it when I was going to college.”

Mario returned almost immediately with our drinks and the restaurant had almost cleared out.  We watched as Mario turned off the open sign.  There were a bunch a children standing at the window looking in.  Benji asked, “Daddy, why are those kids standing out there?”

Mario arrived with our food which was served in a cardboard bowl shaped containers.  I asked, “Mario, the boys want to know why those children are standing there.”

“You'll see, in just a minute.”

Mario went to the door, “Okay, you people come and get what’s left.”

We watched as Mario gave the first twelve children a hotdog and a bag of chips.  There was a little boy and a little girl who didn’t receive anything, “Sorry kids, that’s all the leftovers we had today.  You’ll need to come earlier, next week.”

The little boy put his arm around the little girl, “Come on, Carrie.  We didn’t get here in time, today.”

The little girl had tears rolling down her checks, “But Eddie I’m hungry.”

Mikey jumped up and took his food to the little girl, “Here, you finish my food.  I’m full.

Benji climbed out of the booth and handed his food to the little boy, “Eddie, I’m full, too.  You can finish my food.”

One of the few patrons who was still remaining approached Mario, and I saw Mario take out a slip, and the gentleman handed Mario a card.  I thought nothing more of it, thinking the man was paying his bill.  The man was wearing a clerical collar when he came to the table, “Gentlemen, I applaud you for your act of kindness to those two little children.  I would like permission to use your act of kindness for the basis of my sermon, next Sunday.  I have been coming here for the last ten years and this is the first time I ever observed anyone doing what you two young men did.”

I looked at the two boys and Benji answered, “Sir, we didn’t do very much.  You certainly may talk about what happened if you think people would be interested.”

The man was leaving with a group of people when my cell phone rang.  I looked around and we were the only people remaining in the restaurant so I answered.  This is Doug Christiansen.”

“Doug, it’s Art Block where are you?  Why aren’t you in your seats?”

“Mr. Block, we’re just finishing lunch.  We’re about four blocks from the stadium.  Is there a problem?”

“Cole is a nervous wreck because you’re not in your seats.  We need Ray, Jr. for the pre-game ceremony.  Get here as soon as possible.  When you get to the gate area, have the first security person you meet take Ray, Jr. to the locker room.  It’s important that he be here.”

The phone went dead.  “Guys, that was Mr. Block.  We need to get to the stadium as soon as possible.  Mario, I need the check.”

Mario shook his head, “Father Wainwright paid your bill.”

“Who is Father Wainwright?”

“He’s the man you were talking to.  He’s the pastor of the largest Anglican church in Atlanta.”

“Dad, I’m going to take this man from Harwood to the stadium via the shortcut, since he has to be there.  If he tried to drive now it would take an hour because of all the last minute traffic.  I’ll meet you there.  I’ll take care of the rest of the cleanup after the game.”
 

“Okay, son.  I’ll be there shortly.  I need to make sure that everything is safe here.”

We went out the door.  I can’t say we were running but we certainly we were moving at a pace that was faster than I was used to.  We cut through alleyways that I’m sure no one knew existed.

When I walked up to the ticket agent collecting the tickets,  I explained, “Mr. Ray Lewis, Jr. is part of our party.  We were told that he was needed in the locker-room, as soon as possible.”

The ticket agent turned to the guard that was standing there, “Hank, take Mr. Lewis to the locker room, immediately; the dignitaries are awaiting his arrival.”

Mario asked, “Where are you guys sitting?”

I handed one of the stubs to him and he muttered, “Who the heck are you, anyway?  You have to be rich.  Our seats are so high that my nose starts to bleed after the first quarter.  I’ll see you around when you feel like you need to go slumming again.”

As we were walking to our seats, I was wondering, “What in the world is happening?  I’ve think I’ve lost control.”

To be continued...

Editor's Notes:  I think you lost control, quite some time ago.

We are all waiting on pins and needles for the next chapter, to find out what is going on in that locker room. 

I suspect that the bitch isn't finished with her foolishness.  I hope she gets her comeuppance, in court on Monday.  R. B. deserves to have a good happy life, one where he doesn't have to constantly have to be tormented by that sorry excuse for a woman.

Darryl AKA The Radio Rancher

Posted: 11/12/10