Blind Squirrels (26 page)

When the nurse began to speak, I
overheard what was said.  “Mrs. Cartwright, here are your husband’s things. 
I’m very sorry for your loss.  Can I help you in anyway?  Do you need a ride
home?”

The young woman took the items
from the nurse.  It looked like a wallet and a key ring.  “Is this all?” the
girl asked.  “Can I see him?  Please, I really need to see him…”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you really
don’t want to see.  Once arrangements have been made, he’ll be cleaned up and
you’ll be able to see him then.”

“But doesn’t someone have
to…identify the body?”

“His father has done that so you
wouldn’t have to, Mrs. Cartwright.  In your condition, you don’t need
to…see…um…you don’t need so much stress.  Please, let me get someone to take
you home.”

“Is Travis’ father still here?  I
can go with him, I guess.”

Travis?  Cartwright?  Was this
young woman related to Travis in some way?  Or was I just reading things into
it?

As if to answer my questions,
Travis’ father came hurriedly into the room.  I knew he was Travis’ father; I
had seen them together a few times when we were still in school.  Mr.
Cartwright was looking at the floor and he almost ran straight into me.  I
moved just in time and he looked up.  A look of recognition crossed his face as
he met my eyes.  “Aren’t you Katrina Kipling?” he asked.  I noticed that his
eyes were bloodshot and he looked ragged.

“Yes, that’s me.  Mr.
Cartwright?”

“Yes.  Are you here about Travis
too?”  He had a puzzled expression on his face.

“Is Travis here, too?  My husband
was just admitted to the hospital.  I’m here with him.”

Just then the young woman interrupted. 
“Mr. Cart…Dad.”  And with that, she burst into a fresh round of tears.

Mr. Cartwright put his arms out
in front of him as if to push her away.  “Charlotte, I’m not your dad, and I
can’t talk to you right now.”  Now I saw tears welling up in his eyes.  “Travis
is gone…and…and…”

“…and I’m not,” she sobbed.  “I
know.  I wish it
was
me instead!”

Travis gone?  Oh my God, was
Travis dead?  What had happened?  I wanted to know, but I could see the pain
both of these people were going through, so I just stood there.  I waited for
Mr. Cartwright to console the girl – probably Travis’ wife – and assure her
that he didn’t wish she was dead instead of Travis.  But he just glared at her
and said nothing.  She clutched the items in her hands against her chest and
then ran out of the waiting room towards the elevators.  Mr. Cartwright didn’t
try to stop her.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Cartwright,” I
finally managed.  “Travis is…”  I couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“Dead,” Mr. Cartwright said
matter-of-factly.  “He was killed in a car accident this morning.  Charlotte,
his wife of about three days, was driving the car.  She’s only eighteen and
she’s only been driving for a short time.  They said it wasn’t her fault,
but…”  There was hurt and anger in his eyes.

I was still at a loss for words. 
I could feel tears stinging my eyes.  Travis was never my favorite person, but
he had been a part of my life.  And he was so young.  The whole thing seemed so
unfair.  Then slowly my brain grasped what Mr. Cartwright had said: Travis had
died in a car accident.  Ben had also been in a car accident, and a policeman
was questioning him.  “Please, God,” I prayed, “don’t let Ben be the one that
killed Travis.”

I wouldn’t be getting the story
from Mr. Cartwright.  He apologized and said he had to be going.  I moved out
of his way and he rushed on towards the exit.  I couldn’t move for a few
moments while the whole thing turned round and round in my head.  I finally
decided that I had to talk to Ben.

As I turned to go back upstairs,
the red haired young woman appeared in front of me.  She still had tears
streaming down her face, but she was a little more in control than she had been
a few moments before.  “You knew Travis?” she asked me.

“Y-Yes…we were in high school
together.”

“I’ve only known Travis for a few
months.  We fell in love so fast, and we were only married three days ago.  And
now….now I’ve killed him.”  The sobs came pouring out again.  I found myself
putting my arms around her and trying to comfort her.  She seemed so much like
a little girl.

“You didn’t kill him.  It was an
accident.  Mr. Cartwright said it wasn’t your fault,” I said in an effort to
calm her.

“He…he said that?” she pulled
away and for the first time looked hopeful.  “He was acting like he blamed me
for the whole thing.  The policeman told me that the other driver was using
drugs.  He said I couldn’t have avoided the accident…The other car came out of
nowhere.  It ran the red light and plowed right into the passenger door where
Travis was sitting…”

I was getting scared now.  I knew
Ben had been high all the night before and I knew him well enough to know that
he had probably been high when he left home this morning.  It was Ben that
killed Travis!  I didn’t know what to do.  I wanted to run to Ben, but Charlotte
was holding onto my arms tightly.  I also didn’t want her to know that it was
my husband that killed her husband. 

She kept talking as I struggled
with my feelings.  “And what am I going to do now?  I’m six weeks pregnant. 
Oh, Travis, why did you have to die?” 

She was becoming hysterical now,
and I desperately wanted to get away from her.  I was toying with the idea of
just pushing her away and running as fast as I could to the elevator when the
nurse from earlier came up to us.  She gently pulled Charlotte off of me and
said, “Come on, Mrs. Cartwright.  I’m off duty now and I’m going to take you to
your mother’s house.  You need to get some rest and take care of that baby
you’re carrying….”  They walked away with the nurse still consoling her.  As
soon as they were out of sight, I headed towards the elevators.

I paused just outside of Ben’s
room.  My hands were clammy and I was shaking like a leaf.  I finally went in
the room, and that’s when I realized that the police officer was still there. 
I was about to leave again when the officer said, “You don’t have to go, Mrs.
Bellanova.  We’re done with all the questions.  I was just about to leave.” 

“Is Ben under arrest?” I asked.

“No, ma’am.  Your husband wasn’t
driving the car.  He was just a passenger.  I just needed him to tell me what
happened.  Two people dead because of drugs.  It’s a shame.”  The officer shook
his head and walked out of Ben’s room. 

I was so relieved that I thought
I was going to faint.  I found my way to the chair next to Ben’s bed and
practically fell into it.  Ben reached out and took my hand.  I looked over at
him and he had tears in his eyes.

“This guy Jim was taking me over
to his house so we could get some more pot.  We were both already high as a
kite, but I went along willingly.  We were just driving along, talking and
laughing.  The next thing I know, we’re plowing into another car.  Jim had ran
the red light and he was going really fast.  The other car was a small one, and
the side of it just crumpled.  Jim went flying through the windshield and there
was blood everywhere.  I don’t know what kept me from going through the
windshield, but I didn’t.  I did hit my head on it, but it didn’t break.  The
officer told me that Jim and a passenger in the other car were both killed.  Kat,
I was so scared.  I just knew I was going to die…”

I was so happy that Ben was
alive, but at the same time I was very angry.  Drugs had caused this senseless
accident that had left two men dead, a young girl a widow, and a baby that
would be born and never know his father.  I pulled my hand away from Ben.  “I’m
glad you’re going to be okay,” I said.  “I hope you see now what using drugs
can do.  Ben, you have to stop smoking pot.  Next time, you or I could be
killed.”

“I know, I know.  I can’t think
of anything else.  I’m giving it up.  I’m never going to touch the stuff
again.”

I wanted to believe him, and I
decided that I had to.  I loved him.  I took his hand in mine and leaned over
and kissed him.

Later in the day, I told Ben
about the scene in the waiting room, and I told him that I had known Travis. 
He felt even worse after I told him everything, but I decided that knowing
might help to cement his decision to give up pot.

The next day, I spent a lot of
time thinking about Travis and the moments in my past that we had spent
together.  My memories of Travis were not entirely good, but for some reason I
felt a certain amount of guilt over his death.  Ben was also guilt-ridden over
Travis’ death.  He’d come to realize that the accident wasn’t his fault, but he
kept thinking that maybe Jim wouldn’t have been driving that morning if it
hadn’t been for that party.  We comforted each other as best we could, but
neither of us was very good at it.

Ben was released a couple of days
later.  I wanted him to continue resting, but he insisted that we had to attend
both Jim’s and then Travis’ funerals.  Jim’s funeral was the day after Ben’s
release while Travis’ was two days later.

Jim’s funeral was small – only
six people showed up.  The only flower arrangement was from Ben and me.  The
service was short and very standard – the pastor officiating had clearly never
met Jim or anyone who knew him. 

On the other hand, Travis’
funeral was attended by nearly a hundred people.  There were a few people from
school, but most of them were from his family and his church family.  There
were mountains of flowers throughout the chapel where his body was on display. 
I watched Travis’ family and I was happy to see that Charlotte was being
escorted by Mr. Cartwright.  Apparently he had made his peace with Travis’
death and was trying to build a bridge with his daughter-in-law.

Just before the funeral service
began, I went up to take one last look at Travis Cartwright.  His body was
lying against a background of white satin.  This wasn’t the boy who had bumped
into me with his bike.  Nor was this the guy who took Birdie for a wild bike
ride.  Travis had become a man, a stranger I barely recognized.  I solemnly
walked away and didn’t look back.  The Travis in that highly polished casket
wasn’t the same one I had known.

After Travis’s funeral, Ben turned
his life around.  He got rid of everything that reminded him of marijuana,
including his party friends.  He promised himself that he was done with drugs,
and I prayed that he could keep that promise.  He also quit college and took a
job with a small advertising firm, the TouchPoint Agency, as a staff artist. 
He began doing paintings and pencil sketches at home.  It was hard to believe
that he once hated his artistic abilities.

It was during this time that our
marriage began to flourish.  I was in college, Ben was working and creating,
and our life was happy.  We planned a bright future together, and our love
seemed to grow more and more every day.  We talked of children, but neither of
us really wanted any.  We both feared that we would make lousy parents.  Our
life was just too hectic for us to think of having a baby.  Besides, we had
plenty of years in front of us, and a baby might make more sense when we were
older.

Time passed by so quickly that we
were soon celebrating our second anniversary.  I had just finished my first
year at The University of West Florida, and we decided to spend Christmas in
Ohio with his parents.  We had never been to Ohio, and the thought of staying
with his parents petrified me.  I hardly knew the Bellanovas.  They had only
visited us once since our wedding, and the visit only lasted a few hours – they
were on their way to Disney World.  Ben assured me that everything would be
fine.  After all, his parents were only human.

The Bellanovas lived in Upper
Arlington, one of the nation’s first planned communities.  It seemed to be a
pleasant town, rife with vintage homes from the early 1900’s.  I began to relax
a bit as I watched the beautiful houses roll by the window of our rented car. 
However, my stress returned and doubled once we arrived at the Bellanova home,
or should I say mansion.  Bordering the driveway on both sides were perfectly
shaped hedges and flourishing shade trees.  The grass – although brown and withered
by the December weather – was nicely kempt and trimmed.  But the house was the
pièce de résistance.  Ben told me that the home was in the Georgian style, but
I wasn’t sure what this meant.  It looked old, and the two-story building was
constructed out of red brick.  Four large bay windows lined the front of the
house, and the other windows throughout the house were of various shapes and
sizes.  There were chimneys on each end of the estate’s slate roof.  Huge white
columns and an arched window adorned the building’s facade at the stairs that
lead to the front entry.  The house was remarkably beautiful, but I had never
realized that Ben came from such a well-to-do family.  Ingesting this new
knowledge was more breathtaking than the house and the estate combined.  Ben’s
family was rich!

Of course, I knew Ben’s family
had more money than my own.  After all, Ben did have money to invest while he
was going to college, and he was now footing the bill for my college
education.  Before Ben and I married, I had to depend on financial aid.  Still,
I had never thought of the Bellanovas as being rich.  Until now.