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Walton, NY
Billy sat in his pickup recalling the day when everything finally changed...
...It was 1992, and he was still living in Alabama.
“What do you mean Miss Hattie Godsey died and left you some money and now you got to split?” asked Raynette Stillwater.
Billy’s father had just informed her that he was leaving—and taking their daughter with him. Billy could scarcely believe his ears. He’d never heard the name Hattie Godsey before, but apparently she was a member of the church who had died and left the proceeds of an insurance policy to his father. And now his father was going away. It was a miracle, thought Billy. His prayers had finally been answered. Along with Winona, he listened in silence from the living room, as the drama played out in the kitchen for what seemed like an eternity.
“I know what you did,” he heard his mother say. “You killed that woman, didn’t you?”
“You don’t know nothin’. That woman died of a heart attack.”
“Maybe so, but you had somethin’ to do with it. I can just feel it in my bones.”
Winona giggled, and Billy wondered what she knew.
“So help me God, Richard, I’ll tell the police what you done.”
“You won’t tell nobody nothin’, or you’ll never see that child again—and I mean it. Besides, who’d ever believe you over me? I’m a preacher, remember?”
Not a sound came from the kitchen for nearly a minute. Eventually, Billy heard his mother’s soft voice.
“Okay, Richard,” sighed Raynette. “You win. But I need some of that money—please. There’s no way we can make it, Billy and me, without some of that money.”
“Relax. I’ll give you somethin’. Hell, I’ll give you five thousand. And I’ll send you a check every month.”
* * * *
That afternoon, Billy watched as Winona helped her father load their belongings into the trailer. Then he helped his dad hitch the ancient aluminum Coleman trailer to the pickup. The last thing to be put in the camper was the heavy glass aquarium containing the snakes. Billy stood back a good distance as his sister and father carefully carried the container from the barn and placed it into the rear of the trailer.
“Where will you go?” asked Raynette, as Richard climbed into the cab of the truck.
“Don’t rightly know yet. But, don’t worry, we’ll be in touch.”
Billy’s mom squeezed her daughter with all her might and held on desperately before Winona finally pulled away and hopped up next to her daddy on the bench seat of the pickup. Automatically, without realizing what she was doing, Raynette closed the door behind her daughter as she had done countless times before. Only this time, it was final. She gasped as the reality hit home. But, it was too late. Richard threw the truck into gear and hit the gas.
As they watched the truck and trailer disappear into the distance, Billy stood silently alongside his mother, who held a handkerchief to her eyes to absorb the river of tears that flowed for her daughter. She surely wasn’t crying for her husband; of that much Billy was certain. Neither he nor his mother would shed a single tear for him. Still, Billy’s eyes watered a bit, too, but for a different reason—pure joy. He was glad to finally be free of his father—and the snakes.
* * * *
A week went by before the first letter arrived. But, it wasn’t from Billy’s father, and the envelope didn’t contain any money. It was a hastily-scrawled note from twelve-year-old Winona, bragging childishly about how she and her father had arranged for Miss Hattie’s seemingly innocent death. She said it was an easy way to make money, and that she didn’t know why they hadn’t thought of it sooner. Although Billy didn’t know it then, the letter’s contents would someday provide him with the means to finally extract his revenge for that awful night when his sister first made him know the meaning of shame.
Over the next couple of months, there were other letters, mostly chit-chatty in nature, but none with a return address to reveal the unlikely couple’s location. Billy showed all of the letters to his mother—except the first one. That letter he kept to himself, stored in a secret hiding place.
From the start, Billy vowed to stay with his mother, but theirs was a constant financial struggle. They never, ever saw a dime of the five thousand dollars she was promised by her husband, and no checks ever came in the mail. Within a few months, they lost the house and had to move into a tiny apartment. The day Billy turned eighteen, he packed a cardboard suitcase with his few meager belongings and hitchhiked to the nearest Marine recruiting office to enlist. But, before he did, he went to the county courthouse and changed his name to Stillwater, his mother’s maiden name. He wanted nothing more to do with his father.
* * * *
Less than a month later, Raynette Stillwater committed suicide. Billy learned of her death when a high school classmate who had seen the obituary in the local paper, clipped it out, and sent it to him. By the time he received it, it was much too late to do anything but cry quietly at night in his barracks. Years later he would find out that she had hanged herself with a remnant of the dress in which she’d been married, no doubt an expression of her former feelings for her estranged husband.
* * * *
Now, alone in the cab of his truck, Billy studied the flyer again, only this time he noted the time and place for the advertised prayer service. It was just two days away, on Tuesday at seven in the evening.
What if? Nah. It couldn’t be. Or could it?
He decided to go find out for himself.