THE FIFTY YEAR REUNION PARTY
Bruce Adkins
At eight o’clock that hot summer night it was not yet dark. Outside the bus station Archie Craig, a tall, husky high school football player, paced nervously back and forth with his eyes riveted on the street.
Archie still couldn’t believe his 68 year old Uncle Andrew Diamond, an oil and real estate developer, actually called and offered him a deal that would make him rich. “Meet me at the Trailway Bus station in one hour if you’re interested,” Uncle Andrew said.
Archie was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t recognize his uncle in a brand new Rolls-Royce. “Get in, Lad,” a familiar voice called out.
A mass of cool air and soft music greeted Archie as he entered the car. The cushy leather upholstery and the shiny interior reeked of luxury, and the car ran so smooth that Archie could hardly tell he was moving.
“How are you, Lad?” Andrew asked, as the car sped through town and out on the open highway. “I thought I’d show you my ranch if you have the time.”
Archie hadn’t seen his wealthy uncle since he mother’s funeral five years ago and was shocked at how ill he looked. Uncle Andrew had lost a lot of weight. His face was chalky white, his eyes bloodshot, and his brownish red hair, his best feature, was really a wig.
“Oh yeah, plenty of time,” Archie said. Andrew inquired about Archie’s parents and about his football career as they drove the short distance to the ranch.
“I live in Switzerland most of my time, Lad. I came back to Valley Brook to attend my high school reunion tomorrow night,” Andrew said, as he slowed down in front of the big gate. The sign on the gate displaced a picture of a buffalo with the words, ANDREW DIAMOND RANCH inscribed on it.
“Its my fifty year reunion, kind of a farewell fling,” Andrew said, pushing a button and watching the gate rise.
They rode down a narrow road that led to a spacious brick house, bordered by a tree-lined pond on one side and two red barns on the other. It was dark now, but the brightness of the moon and stars made it almost as light as day. Andrew stopped his car in back of the house.
Archie followed Andrew down concrete steps that led to a basement under the house. “I call this my fallout shelter,” Andrew said. “It’s air conditioned and sound proof.”
The large two-room layout included a storage closet and a small bathroom. The back room was filled with kitchen furnishings. The front room was sparsely furnished with a television set, two easy chairs and a computer. In one corner there was an unmade bed and on a coffee table beside it lay a copy of the Wall Street Journals and a package of juicy Fruit chewing gum.
“Here’s the deal, Lad,” Andrew said, pausing and bending over to cough. “I’d like you to pick up an old high school buddy of mine at our reunion tomorrow night and escort him out to my little hideout here where we’re going to have a party. It will be a big surprise.”
“Of course, my buddy might not be eager to come,
Andrew continued, pausing to clear his throat. “So you may have to issue him a special invitation.”
“You mean like kidnap him,” said Archie.
“I’d call it gentle persuasion,” said Andrew.
Uncle Andrew must be insane, Archie thought a few minutes later as they headed back to town. This was kidnapping, pure and simple. “Uncle Andrew, are you going to harm this guy when you get him back to the ranch?”
Andrew’s face broke into a broad grin. “Let’s just say I want to say goodbye to an old friend in a personal way,” Andrew said. Then he pulled into the outside lane and slowed the car. “Lad,” he said, lowering his voice,” I’ve got cancer and I don’t have over six months to live.”
“You’re kidding!” Archie stuttered. “does Mary and Bart know?”
“Bart knows all about my condition. He’s taking over most of my financial affairs. Mary is in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s. Outside of Mary, you and Bart are my only living kin,” Andrew said.
As Andrew neared town, he turned off the main highway and drove to the back of the Valley Brook country club with its golf course and thick row of cedar trees. He stopped at an opening in the cedar trees that looked out on a top of tennis courts. The lights were on and two men with protruding stomachs were playing a game of tennis in slow motion.
“Lad, Howard Simpson and I will be standing out there alone on one of those tennis courts between eleven and twelve o’clock tomorrow night,” said Andrew. “All I want you to do is take old Howard out to the ranch and wait till I get there.”
Then Andrew drove Archie back to the bus station and let him out. “Now Lad, here’s the deal,” he said. Archie wished Uncle Andrew would stop calling him Lad. He had gained status as a football player and didn’t like anyone addressing him in such a condescending way.
“I’ll pay you 100 grand if you’ll help me.”
“You mean 100 thousand dollars!” Archie asked. He felt his heart speed up and his eyes quiver with excitement.
“You got it, Lad,” Andrew said. Meantime, here’s some pocket money.” He opened his wallet and handed Archie ten, one hundred dollar bills. “Think it over and I’ll call you in the morning.”
Archie stayed up all night counting, fondling and smelling the hundred dollar bills. Yet, there was the promise of many more, he realized. Was he on his way to being a big time criminal, he asked himself.
Archie could see himself driving a Rolls-Royce like his uncle. He could see himself surrounded by beautiful girls and traveling the world in first class style.
Then, he saw his father and stepmother visiting him in jail. His dad was a school teacher. They didn’t have much, but at least it was honest.
But a 100 grand, Archie thought. He could play the stock market and if he invested right he could become a millionaire. He could forget college. “Archie Craig, the eighteen year old millionaire genius,” he said, smiling.
Poor Uncle Andrew, Archie thought. He only had six months to live. What was his uncle up to? The cancer must be in his brain. He mentally rehearsed a list of questions he was going to ask Uncle Andrew when he called, but he never got the chance.
“Lad, just say yes or no,” Andrew said, with a note of finality.
No, Archie had made up his mind to say, but instead, after a few moments of hesitation, he said, “I guess so.”
“Good, we have some details to go over.”
At eleven o’clock the country club parking lot was filled with luxury cars. A steady breeze carried the sound of orchestra music and loud shrieks of laughter through the warm summer night.
Archie, dressed in dark coveralls and a black cowboy hat, sat in the van his uncle has provided, waiting to launch his criminal career. He help a 32 pistol, also provided by his uncle, but he’d never shot a gun in his life. He’d run before he’d shoot somebody, he thought.
It wasn’t long until Archie heard his uncle’s voice as two well dressed men came walking out on the tennis courts. They stopped by the net. Andrew waved to Archie.
In the dark, old Howard Simpson appeared to be a handsome man with white wavy hair and a white moustache. But he was slender and hump-shouldered.
As Archie approached old Howard, waving the gun in the air, he forgot his prepared speech. “Put your hands up and keep your frigging mouth shut or I’ll shoot your ass off,” Archie said, surprising himself at how mean he sounded. Then he put his hand over Howard’s mouth and squeezed so hard he could feel the man’s false teeth come loose. Howard squirmed like a hooked fish while Archie dragged him a few yards and gingerly maneuvered him into the back of the van and locked the door.
There’s no turning back now, Archie thought, driving off waving at Andrew and listening to Howard’s kicking and banging on the side of the van.
Archie wondered what his football coach, what the kids at Valley Brook High would think of him now? He recalled the words of his football coach. “Archie Craig is not only an asset to our football team, but he is a young man with character and integrity.” Asset my ass. My only asset, Archie thought, is kidnapping weak, helpless old men.
Archie directed Howard into the fallout shelter without a struggle. Archie couldn’t get over how calm Howard suddenly appeared.
“Did Andrew put you up to this?” Howard asked while taking off his coat and tie and brushing off his clothes. “Do you know the penalty for kidnapping, young man?”
“Shut up,” Archie said, waving the gun. He was uncomfortable holding it to Howard so he ushered him back to the storage closet, loaded with food supplies, and bolted the door. Then, he sat down in one of the easy chairs and turned the television on loud so he could drown out Howard’s yelling and kicking the door.
Saturday Night Live was on. As Archie watched the various comedy skits he began to relax. For a few moments he forgot his criminal image.
It was one o’clock in the morning when Andrew came staggering down the steps with a drink in his hand. “Hello, Laddie. Where’s out illustrious guest?” Andrew asked.
“Uncle Andrew, are you drunk?” asked Archie.
“Slightly,” said the older man.
“Andrew, is that you?” Howard yelled, banging on the closet door. “Have you lost your mind?” Howard asked when Andrew popped open the closet door. “Is this some sort of game you’re playing? Why did you allow this young hoodlum to drag me down in this disgusting hole? I haven’t seem you in over 40 years and you treat me like this. I demand an explanation.”
“Howard, you sound like some nervous old lady,” Andrew said, taking off his glasses and removing his coat and tie.
“My wife will have the police out looking for me,” Howard said.
“She already has,” said Andrew.
At the mention of police, a sudden stab of anxiety swelled in Archie’s gut. “The police are looking for us?” Archie asked.
Stripped to his waist Andrew was not a pleasant sight. His chest and arms had no muscle. He was all bones. “Prepare to defend yourself,” Andrew yelled. “Let the party begin.”
“You want to fight me?” Howard asked. “What for? I’m not going to fight. You’re a sick man. Just look at you. Besides, I have a heart condition. I can’t afford to get excited.”
“Uncle Andrew, you old guys can’t be fighting now,” said Archie.
“Don’t worry, he couldn’t knock a flea off my butt,” said Andrew.
“Gong, there’s the bell for round one!” said Andrew. Archie watched in amazement as Andrew, so drunk he could hardly stand up, danced around, waving his pipe stem arms and tiny fists in the air. Then, Andrew crashed a light weight blow off Howard’s chest.
“That’s for all the times you told Daisy Hancock all those lies and spread all those rumors about me,” Andrew said. “This is for the time you told Daisy I wouldn’t dance so you could take her to the prom,” Andrew said, swinging again and missing badly.
Howard stood there motionless. He refused to defend himself. He appeared in shock. “This is crazy,” he said to Archie. “He belongs in an institution.”
“Uncle Andrew, you’re acting crazy now,” said Archie.
“Remember the time you told it all over the school that I had sex with Daisy. Daisy hated me and never spoke to me again. Then she was killed in that car wreck, and I never got a chance to explain what a liar you were. You ruined my life and I’ve never gotten over it,” Andrew said, his bloodshot eyes burning toward Howard.
“Andrew, I’ll admit I did a lot of dumb things back when we were kids, but we’re all grown up now. I’m a born-again Christian now, and I beg your forgiveness,” Howard pleaded.
“Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord,” said Archie.
“Yeah, well I’m going to help the Lord out this time,” Andrew said. With both fists flailing, Andrew betted into Howard knocking him against the wall, and blood squirted everywhere. Howard landed on top of Andrew and they both hit the floor hard.
Howard’s shirt was torn down the front and the mop of grey hair on his chest was covered with blood and curled into balls. Finally aroused, Howard punched Andrew in the stomach. Andrew groaned like he was dying and then came alive and threw a looping right hand that connected with Howard’s eye.
“Gong, end of round! You old guys better break it up now,” Archie pleaded while they rolled around on the floor squirming, gouging, and kicking.
One man had cancer and the other had heart trouble. What if one or both of them died?? thought Archie. They would have him up for murder.
“That’s enough, Uncle andrew,” Archie yelled, as both men lay panting and groaning for air. The nostrils of Andrew’s nose were soaked with blood and Howard had a black eye that was clearly swollen shut. They took turns trading punches, but with no impact. Finally, in a bloody heap, their bodies exhausted and physically spent, they gave up.
“You got your revenge?” Howard asked, between groans. “You satisfied, Andrew?”
“When I get my strength back, I’m going to get up and kick your ass,” Andrew said.
“You already have,” said Howard.
“Y’all can be friends now,” said Archie.
“Level with me, Howard,” said Andrew. “Did anything happen that night after the prom when you and Daisy sat out in your car outside her house for two hours?”
“How could it when you kept circling the block and honking every time minutes,” said Howard. They both laughed. The tension subsided and Archie breathed a sigh of relief.
Howard sat up. “Look,” he said, glancing out of his one good eye. “It’s 2:30 in the morning. I’ve got to get back to the hotel.”
“Are you going to turn my in to the police?” Archie asked.
“I ought to,” said Howard. “I resent being manhandled by a punk like you. But you know that high school reunion party was a bore. And to tell you the truth I’ve always had a certain affection for old Andrew here. We were best friends all though school until Daisy came along. Isn’t that right, Andrew?” Howard asked, smiling and holding out his hand in a gesture of friendship.
“Go on, get out of here, you sorry bastard,” Andrew said, refusing to shake the extended hand.
While Howard brushed off his clothes and combed his hair, Archie lifted Andrew into his bed and bathed his face with a cold cloth. “I’m all right, Lad. Just tired,” said Andrew.
Archie let Howard out within a block of his hotel and when he came back to the ranch Andrew was gone. Sometime after daylight, Archie located his uncle in the intensive care unit of the hospital. Andrew had been found, passed out, in his car at a signal light.
About the same time the TV announced that Howard Simpson, a well-known Chicago banker, was feared kidnapped from his high-school reunion. Later in the morning he turned up safe and sound. Mr. Simpson stated he left his reunion, voluntarily, to attend another party where he had a great time. Although Me. Simpson had a black eye, he was otherwise unhurt and there was no indication of foul play.
Two days later, Archie went to the hospital to see Andrew, but he was gone. Andrew was reported on his way back to Switzerland.
Did Uncle Andrew run out on him? Archie wondered. Would he ever receive his 100 grand? All Archie knew for sure was that every time he saw a policeman he wanted to hide. In his heart, he was a criminal and feared he would be arrested when he least expected it.
Finally, Archie went to the police and confessed. “I did a criminal act and deserve to be in jail. I kidnapped an old man,” he told the desk sergeant. But after a brief investigation the police laughed and dismissed Archie as someone who watched too much television.
Two months passed. Archie enrolled in college, reported for football practice, and acquired a steady girl friend when he finally received news about his Uncle Andrew.
Dear Archie, the letter began.
I’m writing to let you know my dad dies yesterday in Switzerland. His funeral service will be held next Wednesday there in Valley Brook.
Before Dad died, he made out a trust fund to you for one hundred thousand dollars that you will be eligible to claim when you’re 35 years old.
I’ll tell you more about it when I see you at the funeral.
Your cousin,
Bart Diamond
At first Archie was disappointed that Uncle Andrew made him wait 12 years to reap his fortune. But at least his dead uncle kept his word. Maybe now he could concentrate on football. Maybe now he could quit dreaming the police were after him. Maybe now he could quit thinking about that 50 year reunion party.
