Stagecoach Road Page 6

  Holy fuck, thought Benny as he bolted to his Camry. I hope he just forgot to give something to Gerald.

  That wasn’t the case. Benny started his car and spun around, barely missing being sideswiped by the dented amber truck. As Benny reached the corner, he gunned his motor, almost rolling over while making the right turn onto U.S 20. He pushed the accelerator all the way to the floor as his tires screeched on the gravely road and tore out of there.

  Frank did the same. In his rearview mirror, Benny saw Frank’s headlights getting bigger and bigger as the chase was on. The traffic thickened as Benny, now doing 70 on the 50 mph road, was driving for his life. He was quickly approaching a stoplight that had just turned yellow. With half a block to go Benny decided to take his chances and run the light. The end of his car just made it passed the intersection as the light turned red. He glanced in his mirror and saw Frank, in full pursuit, running the light as the oncoming cars slammed on their brakes to avoid him. An unmarked police car was among those who were forced to stop. The cop turned on his siren and pulled Frank over. Benny got lucky.

  He couldn’t have known it was me, Benny thought as he headed back home. He must have thought I was someone else.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was Thursday, April 2nd, 1992. With their kids home for spring break, Benny and Marsha decided to take them along on a weekend trip to Michigan and visit Mackinac Island, Marsha’s favorite getaway. Joshua and Rachel had been there before and were eager to go again. Benny planned this escape for a couple of weeks and told Tracey not to book any appointments until Monday, April 6th.

  The family headed out, driving east down I-94 towards Detroit. It was slightly overcast and a little chilly to be walking outdoors for very long. But the forecast was sunny and warm for the rest of the weekend.

  About fifteen minutes into the ride, Benny turned off onto Highway 50 to get gas at the truck stop. There were long lines at each pump so he pulled out and drove towards County Line Road to try his luck at the Gas ‘N Go.

  “We’re not that short on gas,” said Marsha, wondering why Benny was going so far out of his way.

  “I know,” Benny said, “but I have to pee. Maybe the kids do too.”

  They arrived at the gas station a few minutes later. Benny pulled up to one of the pumps and filled the tank. Afterward, Benny took Joshua to the urinal while Marsha and Rachel walked around the mini-mart before using the lady’s room. A short time later they all met back at the car, all set to take off.

  “Are we finally ready?” Marsha sarcastically asked as she fixed her hair in the visor mirror.

  “Not quite,” said Benny, as he put on a pair of sunglasses and his Cubs cap. “I want to take a look at some tires next door. I’m thinking of buying them when we get back.”

  “Now?” asked Marsha, thinking it was a little weird Benny put on sunglasses on a cloudy day.

  “Yeah,” Benny said as he pulled into Gunther Tire & Auto Supply. “You can come with if you like. I’ll just be a minute.”

  “No,” said Marsha, looking a little nervous as she turned her face away from the tire store. “I think I’ll stay here with the kids.”

  Benny really didn’t want any tires. He just wanted to make sure of something. Was that Tommy Gunther he saw his first visit to the store? Was it really him?

  No sooner did Benny reach the door when he saw Tommy walking out, a pencil tucked between his teeth and clutching a notebook. It was definitely him. Benny walked in the store and looked out the big front window and watched Tommy, apparently heading for Benny’s car. But he stopped short, and walked to a different silver Camry in the lot. But that wasn’t all. It looked like Marsha completely ducked down to hide herself when she noticed Tommy walking towards her.

  Benny pretended to be interested in a tire, looked at the price tag, then left. Marsha hit the automatic unlock button to let him in.

  “Did you see anything you like?” asked Marsha, still looking a bit shaken.

  “Don’t know,” said Benny. “We’ll stop here on the way back. I think you can use a set of new tires on your van as well. Unless you want to come in now.”

  Marsha didn’t look well. Like she’s seen a ghost.

  “Why here?” Marsha asked as she handed the kids some M&M’s. “What’s wrong with the tire places around us?”

  “Nothing,” said Benny. “But why not here?”

  Marsha didn’t say anything and Benny didn’t think there was really anything wrong. How was he to have known?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Weinsteins had a great time on the island and completely forgot about stopping by the tire center on their way back. After a packed day seeing patients on Monday, including Carla, Benny bought something he was meaning to buy for the past month--a gun.

  On Tuesday evening, instead of scouting out his past assailants, he drove to a pawn shop in the pits of downtown Gary, disguised in a White Sox cap and a thinner pair of sunglasses. Double J’s Pawn & Loan was located on Broadway, about 4300 South. There he bought an old Colt .45 M1911 and paid $468.00 cash for this semiautomatic with a 7-round capacity. He gave another $200.00 cash to J.J. Davis, the septuagenarian proprietor, to forego the paperwork and background check. J.J. was a short, plump, bald man who bore more than a passing resemblance to a black version of Danny DeVito, complete with a little of that ‘Taxi’ smart-ass attitude. He could get you anything. Anything at all. He wasn’t your friend, but he wasn’t your enemy either, so long as you paid him. The more you paid him, the faster the service and the tighter his lips were sealed.

  Benny had never owned a gun. The only time he fired one was when he went squirrel hunting with Al Fredericks, and even then he only shot it twice, missing his prey each time with the .22. He needed practice and knew exactly the right spot--a place where he could go at night and fire off a hundred rounds if he wanted, where no one would notice--Stagecoach Road.

  That Thursday evening, Benny drove to the road he feared most. A place so terrifying in his mind, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to turn right onto Stagecoach Road and drive more than a block down. He had to confront his fears. But as he left his house at 9:00 p.m. and drove down I-94, making his way to that daunting street, he experienced an eerie, almost satanic coincidence. He turned on the radio to calm his nerves, but instead, he heard Bob Cheats, now the FM 102.8 Oldie Station DJ, playing Sonny and Cher’s All I Ever Need Is You.

  Benny got scared and pushed the button to change the station, but the song continued on FM 108.9 just where the other station left off.

  Benny didn’t believe in the supernatural or anything associated with unexplained phenomenon like ESP, mental telepathy, or ghosts. But this was a little too weird. He never even thought about going back to Stagecoach Road before that night. The last time he heard that song was back in ‘73. The last time he heard Bob Cheats was back then as well. Why now? Why tonight?

  The night was dark as could be at 9:28 p.m. on that cool evening. A large wispy cloud hid half the full moon in the otherwise clear, starry sky. As Benny turned right onto Stagecoach Road his hand gravitated to the passenger seat, feeling his newly purchased pistol, reassuring himself he wasn’t alone. He drove fast at first, passing the houses that flanked both sides. Then he eased his foot off the gas as he drove passed the last house. There was nothing except desolate road up ahead surrounded by thick woods, the same as he remembered it almost twenty years before. He drove for another two miles, his headlights being his only salvation as he crept to a crawl. Suddenly, a deer bolted out in front of him. He swerved to avoid it and narrowly missed hitting a tree as he came to a complete stop, keeping the motor running and his lights on. He sat there for a moment on the side of the road, catching his breath as he looked at the large oak he almost hit. His eyes fixed on that tree for a moment when he noticed something odd. It looked like that tree had some old healed up gashes about three feet up the trunk. He took in a deep breath and covered his mouth in disbelief. It was the tree! The same tree assaulted
by Frank, Tommy, Murphy, and Gerald that fateful night.

  Benny grabbed his .45, making sure he had a full clip. He got out of his car, slammed the door, and was startled by a wild duck flapping out of the brush, just missing his head. Feeling jumpy, he took his gun and shot at the duck, missing it by a mile. The shot echoed in the silent air and woke up a distant coyote. He then took his hand and inspected the old gashes on the tree.

  Memories of that ‘73 night of terror immediately rushed to the front of his consciousness as he walked away from the tree and stared south towards County Line Road. With heightened senses, but a lucid mind, he vividly brought himself all the way back to that June 14th night. He thought back to the graduation party, with that image of Laura playing up to Larry, crystallized in his mind. He saw his buddies, Chuck Merkov, Scott Mathis, Greg McGee, and his close friend, Steve Green trying to console him as he left the party. But most of all he remembered the beating. The pain was real as he recounted his teeth being cracked, his fingers broken, and his skull bashed in. He became more enraged just standing on the road where it all happened so long ago. Time had stood still as he looked back at the tree, so unfazed, it seemed, by the passage of time. But he was fazed. He was bothered. And it was killing him.

  Benny reflected for another couple of minutes, walking slowly down the road, when all of a sudden he saw car lights coming towards him. He hid in the woods and lifted his eyes over a branch to see who was coming. He could hear the loud rumble of a broken muffler rushing towards him. Sweat poured down his face as he nervously gripped the gun in his right hand and pointed it at the road, waiting for the now visible old pickup truck to pass by. Benny was convinced he had been followed by at least one of his high school attackers. Maybe all of them. As the truck got closer, he saw faint images of four men inside, laughing and drinking. He couldn’t make out their faces. Then, in an act of courage that even surprised him, Benny bolted from the woods and onto the road, gun still in hand. The truck made a dead stop and four men got out. Each was holding a baseball bat as they walked towards Benny. One of them yelled out a profanity as another maniacally declared, “Look what we’ve got here!” as they continued towards him. Benny blinked his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating, but when his eyes opened, he saw the men were still coming towards him. With pent up determination, Benny steadied his shaky right hand with his left and raised the gun, aiming it at the closest target. He rapidly emptied all seven rounds at the oncoming men, thinking he had hit them all. When it was over, he went to inspect the carnage. But no one was there. He was hallucinating.

  Benny, now soaked with perspiration, lowered his empty gun and headed back to his car, knowing that he had shot a phantom. He knew he couldn’t be trusted with a loaded gun and worried that this sort of thing may happen again--maybe around his kids. So without reloading, he put the gun in his trunk underneath the spare tire. At least that way, he thought, it would be harder for him to make a mistake.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Steve Green and his wife Stephanie, formerly his high school sweetheart, came over to visit the Weinsteins on Sunday, April 19th, 1992. Benny and Steve planned to watch the Cubs play the Cardinals on television that afternoon while their wives went out with the kids. The Greens had one son, Isaac, ten, a year younger than Joshua. Even though Benny and Steve were friends since the first grade, Benny never confided in him. Nothing too personal, anyway. In fact, Benny never confided in anyone, not even Marsha. Especially not Marsha. He always sensed there was something amiss about their relationship. Maybe she was keeping something from him. He didn’t know.

  Marsha and Stephanie left around noon. The guys were anxious to watch the game--Benny more so than Steve, who was a Sox fan. And because Steve was such an ardent Sox fan it didn’t make sense why he was so bent on watching the Cubs that Sunday.

  “Do you think Maddux will win 20 this year?” Steve asked.

  “Maybe,” said Benny, as he poured an entire package of Lays into a bowl.

  “What about Castillo?” asked Steve.

  Benny brought out a big bottle of generic diet pop and put it on the family room table.

  “Since when did you become a Cubs fan, Harry Caray?” Benny said sarcastically as he placed two glasses with ice next to the chips.

  “I’ve got to tell you, Benny--Marsha asked me to talk to you. She said you’ve been acting different. And she’s worried.”

  “Yeah?” Benny said, as he almost knocked over the whole bottle of soda. “What exactly did she tell you?”

  “Not a whole lot, other than she knows you haven’t been to chess club on Tuesday nights or the OTB on Thursdays.”

  “Yeah? What made her say that?” Benny asked as he handed Steve his glass.

  “You can tell me. Are you schtooping someone?”

  “Am I schtooping someone?” Benny asked in surprise. “Hell no! I’m not even schtooping Marsha! Ha. Ha.”

  Steve was a personal injury lawyer and sent a lot of accident cases Benny’s way. Steve also prided himself on being quite the interrogator, the lawyer in him, and he wasn’t buying Benny’s story.

  “Benny,” Steve continued, “we’ve known each other almost all our lives. We’ve shared everything together. I told you about that time I copped a feel off Heather Glusac in the fifth grade.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Benny. “You wanted to bang her even then.”

  “I told you about how I caught my dad kissing the rabbi’s wife the day after my Bar Mitzvah. And it wasn’t to say Shalom!”

  “You mean your mother never found out?”

  “And I told you when Stephanie finally gave me that blow job in 10th grade.”

  “Does she know you told me?”

  “Benny--who are you schtooping? It’s driving me crazy. It’s not one of your patients, is it?”

  “Of course not,” Benny sternly said, pretending he was offended at the insinuation.

  “Holy shit!” shouted Steve. “Is it Cathy Price, that new injury case I sent you last month? She said she liked you.”

  “She did?” Benny said with a smile on his face. “Then it must be her.”

  “Really? You’re doing Cathy? I wanted to fuck her!”

  “No, not really. I’m not doing Cathy. Really? You want to fuck her?”

  “Then who is it?”

  Benny turned on the television and saw Stoney, the Cubs’ commentator summing up the lineup. He had enough of this questioning and just wanted to relax and enjoy the game. He knew he couldn’t fool Steve. What else could it be if it wasn’t another woman? Benny had to tell him something believable.

  “If you must know,” said Benny, “I’m taking karate lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’ve always wanted to learn how to defend myself. I didn’t want Marsha to know because she might think I’m in some sort of trouble.”

  “Karate lessons, eh?” Steve said, nodding his head in approval. “You sure could have used those growing up.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Benny said as the game started.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Steve got Benny worried. Marsha might buy the karate excuse, but the fishing story was getting less believable. She never knew him to go fishing every morning for a week. But that’s exactly what Benny needed to do to follow Frank and the rest of the guys.

  The following Sunday morning, April 26th, 1992, Benny arrived home with some expensive new fishing equipment. Hitched to the back of his Camry was a trailer carrying a used 14-foot aluminum Jon Boat and a 3hp Evinrude outboard motor. He found it in the Gary Post Tribune classifieds and paid the owner just under a thousand dollars cash for the entire package. Marsha was less than impressed, but Joshua liked it and thought his dad was pretty cool.

  “Oh man! That’s real slick!” said Joshua as his eyes lit up when he saw the boat in the driveway. “Can we go fishing today?”

  Marsha shook her head in disapproval. Rachel wanted to side with her mother, but was just as eager as her brother.

  “You’re wasting all kinds of m
oney on this little hobby of yours,” Marsha uttered. “You’ll use it three times a year, then it’ll sit in front of our house the rest of the time.”

  “You’re wrong about that,” countered Benny. “Now that I have a boat I’ll be using it all the time. During the winter I’ll keep it in back behind the shed. No one will know the difference.”

  “I’ll know,” said Marsha. “We’ll see how long this fling of yours lasts.”

  Benny took Joshua and Rachel fishing on the boat that afternoon. They drove to the Marquette Park lagoon, Benny’s childhood fishing haunt. They parked at the Pavilion, unhitched the boat, and slid it down to the water below. By that time it was about 1:30 p.m.

  “It’s not going to be this easy pushing it back up the hill,” Benny said to his kids, as they went back to get the motor and the rest of the gear.

  Benny filled the motor with gas, attached it to the back of the boat, and made sure everyone put on a lifejacket. Joshua wanted to row instead of using the motor.

  “Wait until we’re out a ways before you use the oars,” said Benny as he pushed the starter button.

  Benny was thrilled the motor started so effortlessly as he grabbed the throttle and headed out on that beautiful spring afternoon. Joshua and Rachel were clearly enjoying the ride, the wind in their hair, as their father navigated the small vessel past the small Chinese bridge, making their way to the much larger lake area on the other side.

  “You used to come here when you were my age?” Joshua asked as he tied a hook to his line. “Did Bubby Mildred let you take a boat out here?”