Chapter Thirty-Two

So Much Pain and Sorrow

Bill

Christmas was quite unique from the many Christmases I’d spent throughout the years. It gave me such pleasure to watch the reactions as the proposals took place. And the dinner with Grace and her mother, Evelyn DeMarco, was also very entertaining. Evelyn seemed like a lovely woman with an infectious sense of humor. I’m looking forward to other gatherings where she might be included.

On the day after Christmas, Andrew gave me Bobby Cooper’s telephone number. I called him with the hope of getting some insight into what happened to Gunderson Groves during those years before it closed. I also wanted to hear about his life and career. He had been such a bright, responsible, young man and an asset to the company. “Hello, is this Bobby Cooper?”

“Yes, it is. Who is this?”

“This is Bill Cunningham.”

At first there was silence. “Who is this, really? No joking around.”

“Really, Bobby, this is Bill Cunningham. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not dead. I’ve been living like a hermit and just recently came out of my exile.”

“You’re shittin’ me. This can’t be Bill Cunningham. I’m in no mood for this crap!”

“Bobby, I’m telling you the truth. I’d like to explain everything. Is it possible to meet for lunch?”

“Uh, you sure you aren’t shittin’ me? Is this some kind of prank? Whoever you are, will you even show up if I agree to meet you?”

“Oh, yes, I’ll be there. Just tell me where and what time.”

“Uh, where are you now, Bill Cunningham, if it’s really you? Uh, I’ll meet you on my way home from work about one-thirty.”

“One-thirty is fine. I’m in Nawinah. Where would be a good place to meet?”

“There’s a restaurant called the Hot Spot on the corner of West Colonial and Maguire in Ocoee. Meet me there. If I find out this is a sick joke, I have this phone number, and I’ll hunt you down.”

“There’s no need for threats, Bobby. I’m staying at Andrew Reynolds’ house. This is his phone. He’s Dan Reynolds’ son. You remember him.”

“What? Okay, mister, I’m going to check this out before I meet you. If you’re lying to me, I’m getting in touch with Reynolds and telling him some psycho is stalking him. How’s that?”

“You can do that, but please don’t forget to meet me. I really want to talk to you. I’ll be at the restaurant at one-thirty.”

I hung up with a smile on my face. Same old Bobby. He’s still as feisty as ever. He must be in his sixties now. All I have missed.

One of the things I did before meeting Bobby was to buy a cellular phone like everyone carried. They either talked on them constantly, or what Frankie told me, they did this thing called “texting.” The clerk at the mall showed me various types of telephones, but I chose a simple, flip-open one with a camera. He connected it for me and taught me the basics. There was a way to use it as a telephone book too. I’d ask Frankie to teach me that capability.

After lunch, I called Doug Plimpton, hoping he could tell me what happened to my family’s remains. Mary, Mom, and I had cemetery plots at the Oakmont Gardens Cemetery where Dad was buried. I needed to know if my children had been buried there also. Doug was with a client, but the receptionist said he’d call me back. I gave her the number of my cellular telephone, then I left the mall and drove to meet Bobby. The telephone rang while I was driving. Since I didn’t know how to answer it and drive at the same time, I let it ring. The clerk at the cellular phone store had told me there was a way to find calls I didn’t answer. I’d get Frankie to help me locate it later.

I ordered a pot of coffee at the restaurant, hoping Bobby would show up. I sat in a booth facing the entrance, wondering if I’d even recognize him. A man and woman entered and were seated at a booth. Not Bobby. Then a man wearing a plaid shirt and blue jeans arrived. That couldn’t be Bobby. Too young. Several more minutes passed. A few other couples of various ages entered. Then a white, bushy haired, burly gentleman wearing a navy-blue suit entered. He was looking around the restaurant. I stood. “Bobby! Bobby! Over here!”

Bobby stopped and focused on me. At first he stared in complete astonishment. Then he strode toward me. He firmly grabbed my hand and put his other arm around my shoulder. “Bill Cunningham? It is you. Well, I’ll be damned.”

He kept shaking my hand and patting me on the back as if he were killing a bunch of ants. When he dropped my hand, he backed up slightly and looked at me as he held my shoulders at arms’ length. “In a million years, I never would’ve believed this. I really thought you were some crackpot when you called.”

He slid into his seat at the booth as I slid into mine. “Let me explain, Bobby. I know this is a complete shock to you.”

“Shock. That’s putting it mildly. Bill, you don’t know. I can’t believe it’s really you. And I even recognized you as soon as you called my name.”

I looked down into my coffee cup. Visions were racing through my mind. Bobby was bringing back so many memories. “Bobby, it’s good to see you again.”

“Hell, you can’t even begin to know how we missed you. Everyone at Gunderson Groves. It was so hard to go on after your death.”

“Let me brief you on why and where I’ve spent the last forty years.” I told Bobby what had happened to me on that tragic day and how I survived afterward. I told him about the Reynolds family and how they brought me back to reality and gave me the will to live again.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You must’ve lived in hell for all those years.”

I then told him of the discovery of my half-brother and how we were almost certain he was the murderer.

“Bill, is there anything, anything at all I can do?”

“As far as the crime, no. The police are working on the case and updating me on a regular basis. I wanted to talk to you about the closing of the company. I’ve talked to Doug Plimpton, the attorney who took over the law firm after his father died. I know Matt, Art, and Chuck handled the closing of the business, but I wanted to get your take on it.”

“Those three men did as good a job as possible under the circumstances. Your secretary, Marion Taylor, worked until the company closed five years after what we thought was your death. Chuck found a position in his firm for her. As for Jennifer Weber, the accounts payable clerk, we got married. She quit when she got pregnant with our first child, William.”

“William? That’s what you named your first child?”

“Yes, we named Billy after you. You’d be proud of your namesake. He’s an attorney in Atlanta and has given me three beautiful grandchildren.”

“Bobby, I’m honored.”

“Hey, I’m so grateful to have worked with you. No one could’ve asked for a better employer. By the way, Jenny is a great girl. I never would’ve met her if she hadn’t worked at Gunderson Groves.”

Bobby explained how he’d become a partner at his CPA firm. Then he told me what had happened to the rest of my employees. He put my mind at ease, knowing that everyone was taken care of. “So you don’t need to feel bad about any of us. We were better people because of you and Gunderson Groves.”

Bobby and I talked about many of the other changes over the years. Then I asked him if he knew what had become of my family’s remains. “They were all buried at Oakmont Gardens. Almost everyone at Gunderson Groves attended the mass funeral. I don’t want to bring up bad images for you, but it was heart-wrenching. There wasn’t a vacant seat or a dry eye in the church. I’m so sorry, Bill.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” I didn’t know what else to say.

Since Bobby had taken off work early, I knew he had other plans. We said our goodbyes, and he gave me a big bear hug before leaving the restaurant.

I returned Doug Plimpton’s call while I was still seated at the booth. “Doug, I just got done talking to Bobby Cooper. He informed me all my children are buried at Oakmont Gardens Cemetery.”

“Yes, and Mary is buried in the plot reserved for her in the Tranquility section. Dan is buried next to her because of the mistaken identity. Your mother is buried next to your dad. Enough plots weren’t available in Tranquility for all the children to be near each other, so they are buried in the Beloved section, specifically reserved for children.”

“Thanks, Doug. I appreciate it.”

I left the restaurant and drove to the cemetery, entering through the large archway to the grounds. The bright floral bouquets on the gravesites spotted the green blanket of lush grass, extending for several acres. The office was off to the right. Doug had given me the plot numbers of the children’s graves. I’d be able to locate Mary, Dan, and Mom since they were near Dad, but I had to ask about the children.

As I entered the office, the scent of gardenia permeated the room, causing me to immediately picture images of my poor children rotting in their graves. It was so overwhelming I had to steady myself on a side table before I could continue.

The door had sounded a soft bell upon my entrance. The woman in front of me was looking in a file cabinet behind her desk. When she heard the bell, she turned, seeing me leaning on the table. “Are you okay, sir?”

The dizziness diminished, and I released my hold on the table. “Yes, I’m fine, just a momentary bout of vertigo.”

She was a thin woman in her fifties. “Please sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

I sat on a chair against the wall while she retrieved the water. I was surprised at my reaction to the smell of the gardenias, for the vertigo was not completely gone. Apparently, I didn’t have as much control over my emotions as I thought. The woman returned with a paper cup of cool water. “Thank you. I’m okay now.”

“Are you sure? Do you need me to call someone?”

“No, I’m fine. I just came to ask the location of some graves.”

I gave her the plot numbers. She took out a map of the Beloved section and marked where I’d find the children. I thanked her for the map and the water and got up to leave, still a little unsteady.

“Sir, are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be fine. This just has been a very emotional day. Thanks for the water.” I felt her eyes watching me as I walked out the door.

The air was brisk and chilly when I exited my vehicle at the Beloved section. The children were located toward the back near a high, cement wall. Off to the left was a small outdoor chapel. I found them without any difficulty. Individual bronze markers identified each child’s grave. Betsy Ann, Cletus, and Daisy were next to each other and close to the wall. Travis, Lily, and Silas were in a row directly below them. My heart was breaking into a million pieces. I was so close to them and yet so far. Kneeling at each marker, I kissed the name of each child. Then I stood, went to the foot of the six graves, and said a prayer aloud. “God, if you’re truly there, and if you’re truly good, you must’ve had a damn good reason for allowing the deaths of these innocent children. They suffered so severely in their last moments. I’ve been told countless times you’re a merciful God, you know best, and we should not question your judgment. But, God, help me to understand why the slaughter of these children was something you condoned. I’m having a very hard time here. They were children. Damn it, Children!”

At that point I realized I was no longer praying but screaming at God. Eventually, I stopped rebuking him and said goodbye to each of my children.

Seated in my vehicle, I had to compose myself before driving to the Tranquility section, anticipating, yet dreading finding Mary’s grave. I remembered Dad was buried near a large oak tree at the north end of Tranquility. It took me a while, but I found Mom and Dad’s graves and its double bronze marker.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so emotionally drained. First, seeing my children’s graves, then my mother, and seeing that date of their deaths, October 31, 1971, over and over again! This wasn’t due to some epidemic or illness or even a tragic accident. No. God damn it! It was that demon!

I knelt at the bronze marker and kissed their names.

Sluggishly, I stood, searching and thinking. I remembered the plots I had purchased for Mary and me were east of Dad’s. Mary had selected plots next to a flower garden. I walked unhurriedly as I searched for Mary. Thankfully, the flower garden was still there. Since no one had been around to put flowers on her grave, at least she had the bright hues of their petals so close to her. I read the double bronze marker:

CUNNINGHAM

William Russell

Loving husband and father

March 20, 1935-October 31, 1971

Mary Eileen

Loving wife and mother

July 18, 1937-October 31, 1971

There’s nothing like being slapped in the face with reality. There, beneath that ground laid the bodies of my wife and my best friend. Poor Daniel, lying in someone else’s grave. My grave! Yet I stood looking down at the veracity of this terrible travesty. I knelt and gently rubbed my hand back and forth over Mary’s name. Then the tears came—deep, throaty sobs. For Mary. For Mom. For all my children. And for Dan.

I don’t know how long I sat beside Mary’s grave. I completely lost track of time. I reminisced about our lives together. I thought about Dan, his friendship, his loving family. I said aloud while looking down at the grave, “When all this is over, we’ll take you home, Dan. You’ll be with Anna again.”

Before I realized it, the sun was setting. The winter air was getting cooler. I kissed Mary’s name and struggled to my feet. A little dizzy, I gained my equilibrium. “Goodbye, Mary, my love. I’ll be back.”