The Sorting of Soul 682

THE SORTING OF

SOUL 682

BRUCE

PELTZER

AuthorHouse™ LLC

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© 2013 Bruce Peltzer. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/26/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4918-1831-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-1832-9 (e)

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Robert John Underwood

Chapter 2 At The Old Ballgame

Chapter 3 Accidents Happen

Chapter 4 School Days—School Days

Chapter 5 Homecoming

Chapter 6 A Day At A Seafood Restaurant

Chapter 7 The Boy And The Sailboat

Chapter 8 Playing The Mark

Chapter 9 April & May

Chapter 10 Rules Of The Game

Chapter 11 For The Good Of The Company

Chapter 12 One For The Money, Two For The Show, Three To Get Ready, Four To Go

Chapter 13 For The Win

Chapter 14 Everybody Likes Vanilla

Chapter 15 And The Wheels On The Bus Go Round And Round

Chapter 16 The Tea Cup

Chapter 17 The Day Love Died

Chapter 18 The Sun And The Moon

Chapter 19 Meet Larry Barnes

Chapter 20 Now Serving # 682

In memory of my dear friend, Carol Ritter.

You were my biggest fan.

YOU are who YOU are by the choices YOU make.

Chapter 1

ROBERT JOHN UNDERWOOD

The white fog in his eyes began to dissipate. It was now a soft gray and clearing more every second. He blinked twice and objects came into view. As he looked around the room, he recognized that he was home in his living room. He was sitting in his recliner. He was scanning the room for changes, hoping he would not find any. Everything seemed to be in place. He looked slightly to his left to the small table beside the chair. His hopes were suddenly dashed. As he looked at the table he noticed the television remote control. He also noticed three large stacks of money. Each stack was as high as the other two and neatly positioned in rows beside each other. The fear and confusion, the anxiety and despair, the feeling of defeat and the madness had returned.

Robert John Underwood sat staring at the stacks of money for a long time. When he finally looked away from the table he stood up and walked into the dining room. As he approached the large dining table he noticed papers and cards scattered about. The first paper he picked up was a copy of a round trip plane ticket in the name of Dennis Cutter. As he studied it, he read it was a ticket from two days ago. It was a round trip ticket from Fort Dodge Regional Airport in Webster County, Iowa to Reno-Tahoe International Airport in Reno, Nevada. As he looked back to the table he picked up a card, which was a Platinum-VIP Peppermill Hotel & Casino card with the name of Dennis Cutter embossed on it. He had no idea who Dennis Cutter was.

Robert threw the plane ticket and card back on the table and walked back to the living room. He stood over the table by the chair, staring down at the piles of money. He reached down, picking up the three stacks of money and walked back to the dining room and sat down in one of the chairs. He placed the money on the table. Picking up one of the stacks of money, he began to count it. All the bills were one hundred dollar bills. When he was finished counting the first stack he had twenty five thousand dollars. When Robert was finished counting all three stacks, he had a total of seventy five thousand dollars.

Robert placed all the stacks neatly together on the table and just sat back, staring at them. He knew that it was useless to try and recall what had happened. Why would this incident be any different from the others? He has never been able to recall previous incidents. He picked up the plane ticket again and looked at it. He had no idea how he got to Iowa. He had no idea how he came to have $75,000 in cash. His initial guess is that someone by the name of Dennis Cutter had won the money in the Peppermill Hotel & Casino because of the VIP card but that was just an educated guess, considering the scant documentation he had in front of him.

What made him go to Iowa? How did he get there? Why did he fly to Reno, Nevada? How did he get back home to St. Petersburg, Florida from Iowa? Who was Dennis Cutter? Did he actually take this trip and win this money? Was he Dennis Cutter? Same questions every time he finds himself back home in his recliner, just different names and places. Robert could feel the madness crashing over his brain. He started to shake and hugged his own shoulders to minimize the trembling his body was now experiencing. The last thing Robert heard in his head before he passed out onto the dining room floor was the whispered words again. He has heard these words for as long as he could remember and has never been able to figure out what they meant or recognize the voice saying them. No improvement. No change in condition. Aside from this, he thought as always, it was good to be home again.

Life in St. Petersburg, Florida for Robert Underwood is as normal as anyone could imagine or one would assume. Robert Underwood is a twenty nine year old white male. He has average features. Short cropped brown hair and thin built, at six foot tall. He would be lost in a crowd of others. Robert is a Server at the Seafood Reef restaurant, located at the John’s Pass Village, Madeira Beach, Florida. Robert lives in a modest ranch style house his parents left to him when the passed away ten years ago. The house is old and extremely run down looking compared to the other homes in the 7400 block of Second Avenue North. The daily routine for him is to wake up, go to work and then come home. He doesn’t make a lot of money and watches television for entertainment. He would like to do more with his off time but television is the cheapest entertainment and all he can afford. He does go out to the local bars occasionally but that has become boring because he can only go on Tuesday nights because he always works on the weekends, especially during the summer months.

The commute to work is quick and easy. His car, also left to him by his parents, is a 1999 white Ford Taurus station wagon. It is an older vehicle with one hundred twenty thousand miles on it but runs well. Robert drives two blocks to Central Avenue, which becomes the Treasure Island Causeway. A quick, right turn onto Gulf Boulevard and he is at work in eighteen minutes. It takes a little longer during the tourist season. He works six days a week and his take home, hourly wages and tips are about six hundred fifty dollars a week during the busy season. It may sound like a lot of money but not in 2011. Off season he is lucky to clear five hundred a week. Robert considers himself lucky that he has a place to live and all he has to pay are the utilities and taxes. He would have certainly liked to have acquired it in a different way. It still bothers him to think of that terrible accident that took his parents from him.

Robert woke up on the dining room floor later that day at about 6:00 p.m. He rolled over onto his knees and felt the pain in his left shoulder and back. He leaned back and stretched, hoping to exercise the muscles so they would stop hurting. Once he was on his feet he looked at the table and put his hands on his hips just staring at the papers and money. He was trying again to figure out what happened. He picked up the money, papers and the casino card. He walked around the table and walked through the hallway towards the bedroom. Suddenly, a figure popped into his mind. It was the face of a man. A white man who, was around fifty years old, balding and had a plump face. As quick as the man’s face appeared in Robert’s mind, it was gone. Robert stopped in the hallway trying to get the picture back but to no avail. It was gone. Entering the bedroom, Robert walked over to the night stand beside this bed. He bent down and opened the drawer.

He looked into the drawer before dropping the latest additions into it. He could see the many papers and money. He could see the numerous driver licenses, credit cards and other forms of identification strewn about in the drawer. He placed the papers, money and casino card on the bed and sat down next to it all. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a handful of documents. He started to read each piece, as he has, a hundred times. The names on papers were all foreign to him. More names, more papers. There was a favorite Robert liked to read. He read it and re-read it many times. It was a birth certificate from Lee Hospital in Johnstown, PA. The paper was weathered and had water stains on it. The name on the certificate was Larry Barnes. The certificate showed this person was born June 2, 1982. Robert knew his birthday was June 2, 1982. Sometimes Robert wanted to have the finger and foot prints on the certificate blown up so he could compare them to his own.

Robert never had the nerve to do it. He looked over to the digital clock radio on the bureau across the room. He noticed the date on the clock was 6-1-2011 and thought, Huh, tomorrow is our birthdays, go figure. Happy birthday in advance in case I forget Larry. There were credit cards caught between the papers Robert pulled from the drawer. MasterCard, Visa, Diner’s Club, American Express were all in the pile and in different names. There were SAMs Club cards, COSTCO cards, Macy’s, Sears and a Dillard’s card. There were a few more out of state driver licenses in the drawer and, of course, his picture was on all of them but the names were all different. Robert spent a few more minutes staring at all the papers, licenses and cards, throwing them back into the night stand drawer and closed it. Robert fell across the bed and went to sleep.

At 7:00 a.m. the next morning the digital clock radio tripped and music was screaming throughout the room. Robert rolled over with his face in the pillow and reached out, hitting the button on the radio, turning off the music. Slowly he rose and went into the bathroom. He looked into the mirror and noticed that he had not shaved for a few days. Wherever he had been he apparently did not think shaving was needed. Once he had showered and shaved he walked back into the bedroom and looked at the clock radio. It showed, Mon. 6.2.11, 7:32 a.m. Happy birthday to us. I hope you have a great day Larry. He remembered too, it was ten years ago on his birthday that he lost his parents in that terrible accident. Robert dressed and scooped up the cash from the night stand. He decided he would put all the money in the bank. There was just too much to leave sitting in the drawer. Whatever had happened he now had a small fortune. He thought it must have been a good time to come back from wherever it was with seventy five thousand dollars.

A smile crossed his face and his eyes darted from left to right as if he was a little kid who stole candy from a store and got away with it. As he walked down the hall toward the dining room he thought he heard someone talking. He stopped and waited to make sure. Then, as usual, he heard it. No improvement. No change in condition. It was the whispered words again. He tilted his head to the left as if it would improve his hearing, hoping as he always did, to hear more. He waited in the middle of the hallway for another minute but the whispering was over.

Later that morning Robert drove to the Beach Stone General Bank on Central Avenue and deposited all seventy five thousand dollars. No particular reason for selecting this bank, other than it was on the way to work. He was advised the bank would have to report the deposits to the federal government because it was over ten thousand dollars. Robert did not care. He told the bank Manager he found it stashed in a wall, in the bedroom and he had found it, while doing renovations. He said his best guess was it had been his parent’s life savings and they did not believe in banks and over the year they hid it in the wall. Robert was mildly amused and laughing to himself how quickly he had come up with the reason for having such a large amount of cash. He had not even thought about what he would say if anyone would ask him where it came from, until he actually was asked by the bank Manager. Another sinister smile crossed his face as he climbed into the car.

As he drove onto Gulf Boulevard he looked at his watch. It was 11:15 a.m. and he thought about the crap he would have to take from his boss for missing work for the past few days. He figured he had been away for the past two days, according to the plane ticket but was not sure if he had been more. He guessed it took some time to get to and back from the airport in Iowa and that had to take a day each way. He was not sure but would be ready for the crap. As Robert parked his car he could see Sam Morgan, who was the restaurant Manager, standing inside the glass door to the restaurant. He had his hands on his hips and Robert knew this was not going to be pretty. Sam Morgan was not someone you could miss in a crowd. He stood over six three was heavy set, black and quite an imposing figure.

Robert: Good morning Mr. Morgan.

Sam Morgan: Well, it is very nice of you to grace us with your presence Mr. Underwood.

Robert: Well thank you sir. It is good to be back.

Sam Morgan: In my office.

Sam Morgan turned and walked through the restaurant, heading straight for the back and into his office. Robert followed him but at a much slower pace. As Robert entered the office Sam gestured for him to sit in the chair in front of his desk, as he sat in the chair behind it.

Sam Morgan: Well Robert what happened this time?

Robert: I was sick.

Sam Morgan: Of course you were. You are sick a lot. I have not seen you in a week. You could have called and let us know you were sick.

Robert: Three or four days, I don’t think it was a whole week.

Robert wasn’t sure how long he had been gone and was phishing for confirmation.

Sam Morgan: What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you care about your job? Don’t you care about the people you work with? I am so sick and tired of this crap, I don’t know what to do with you. You have worked here for over ten years and you have never shown any loyalty to your job. You are not dependable. You have no sense of responsibility. You have never showed an interest in getting ahead. Do you want to do this for the rest of your life? You just don’t care. What are you now? You must be twenty nine, thirty years old and still working as a Server in a restaurant?

Robert: You know I am the best Server you have. You know the customers love me. When I am working, I am the best there is and thank you. I am thirty today as a matter of fact.

Sam Morgan: That is it. You said it.

Sam Morgan raised his voice, getting up and stepping around the desk.

Sam Morgan: WHEN YOU ARE HERE!

Sam lowered his voice. He sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at Robert sitting in the chair.

Sam Morgan: Look, I need you to step up and show up according to the schedule I post every week. It is not fair to the others if you don’t show up. I have to call in someone to cover your shift or ask people to work doubles. I depend on you to set an example for the new people. I depend on you to teach the new folks by example. We go through this every month or so and it is really getting old. I guess I should be happy you were missing for only a week this time. What was it the last time Robert? I think you were gone for over two weeks. Was it last year or the year before you were gone almost a month? I think if I did a review of your work record, I would find you have been out more than you have been in.

Robert had heard this speech a hundred times over the years. Sam Morgan has been the restaurant Manager for as long as Robert has been there, which means in Robert’s mind, Sam Morgan had no more ambition than Robert. Robert thought after ten years Sam should have moved up the corporate ladder a bit. As Sam went on with his speech Robert was thinking do as I say, not as I do.

Sam slide off the edge of the desk and sat back down behind the desk again. He picked up a piece of paper and scanned it.

Sam Morgan: You are working a double today. Get out of my sight.

Robert smiled at Sam and rose from his chair. Without saying a word Robert turned and walked out of the office. As Robert was leaving he thought about the seventy five thousand dollars in the bank. He almost spun on his heels to tell Sam off but decided against it. He liked waiting tables from time to time and today would be one of those days. Robert was heading for the front door because he had left his work uniform in his car. He pushed the front door out and away from him to get out and it slammed into the chest of a customer coming in. Robert heard the man yell, hold up there young man. Robert slid through the opening and just smiled at the man as he passed him. He heard the man mutter under his breath, Someone should teach you some manners you selfish little shit. Robert just smiled thinking, hope I do not have to wait on him. Once at the car Robert reached into the back seat and grabbed his uniform shirt. Suddenly the man’s face came into his mind. It was the same face he had thought of in the house earlier. Robert was not sure but he was pretty sure the face was familiar to him.

Robert went back into the restaurant and walked over to the work station, picking up his order pad and sliding it into his pocket. As Robert turned to go to his tables a young girl named Sandy, who was no more than nineteen years old, walked up to him. She was a Server and has worked with Robert for over a year.

Sandra: Welcome back Robert.

Robert: Whatever. Leave me alone. I have already had enough of fat Sam today.

Robert walked away. Sandra stood with her mouth hanging open. What a bastard, she thought.

For as many years and as many people Robert has worked with at the Seafood Reef restaurant, he had no friends at work. Robert was a thirty year old Server. He was the oldest employee, except for Sam Morgan. Over the years there Robert had gone out after work with a few other guys and had a beer or two. He even dated a few girls from work but nothing ever came from any of the dates. Robert had a narcissistic personality. He never cared about others or worried whether or not he hurt their feelings when he spoke. He just didn’t care enough to think about it. His relationships with the people he worked with were strained, to say the least and at best, bearable. Nobody wanted to work with him. He was great with the customers but the kitchen staff and other Servers knew he used the customers. When Robert was working the floor he was a perfect gentleman. When he walked into the kitchen or back to the work station, he was a miserable, complaining loud mouth. This was Robert’s personality in or out of work and has been all his life.

As Robert walked in the aisle between tables he heard the clanging of silverware. He looked down to his right and on the floor was a fork. He picked up the fork and as he rose he looked up and was handing it back to the person in the booth, who had dropped it. It was the man he slammed the door into earlier. Robert looked into the man’s eyes and there was something familiar about him. He was a white man about fifty years old, balding, with a plump flushed face. From what Robert could see, it looked like the guy was short and round as well. Robert said nothing to the man. The man looked up at Robert.

Thank you young man, said the man in the booth.

Robert gave the man a weak smile as the man took the fork from him. As Robert walked away he heard the man muttering something. Someone should teach that kid some manners. Ignorant little shit. That made Robert smile again. As he continued to walk down the aisle, he thought to himself, The restaurant Gods have been good to me today. That fat slob is not in my section. Robert had not noticed but the man in the booth had turned to watch Robert walk away. The man had a smile on his face as well. Robert worked his double shift. It was 1:00 a.m. and the restaurant was now closed. Everyone had gathered to split the tips made for the night. Robert had already received his share of tips from the earlier shift and made $63. Not bad for the lunch run, he thought. As everyone waited around Robert sat alone in one of the booths. Sam Morgan walked over.

Sam Morgan: Tomorrow at four?

Robert: There is a strong possibility of that. Need to see what my tips are.

Sam Morgan just walked away.

Robert: Fat ass.

Minutes later Sam Morgan called everyone together and handed each person their share of the pooled tips for the evening shift. Each Server received $82. Robert took the money, counted it and shoved it into his pocket as he headed for the door. Robert did the math in his head and had $145 for the day. He thought it was a good day but not a great day. As Robert opened the door to his house he couldn’t wait to sit in his recliner and watch a little television. It relaxed him to just stare at the TV after a long day. He hated being around people and this was great therapy for him. As Robert drifted off to sleep he had no idea he was going to be off to some strange place, doing odd things and being someone he was not. He never had any idea when it would happen and this time was no different.

Chapter 2

AT THE OLD BALLGAME

The white fog in his eyes began to dissipate. It was now a soft gray and clearing more every second. He blinked twice and objects came into view. The loud speaker had brought him to consciousness. Looking left and right, Robert found himself in a seat behind the home team’s dugout. He was at a Kansas City Royals baseball game. Robert quickly got up and walked up the many steps to the main concourse. As he was taking the steps two at a time he was glancing at the seated crowd. Not making eye contact but scanning as he went. As he reached the top of the stairs he walked onto the concourse and stood by one of the many huge concrete posts, which held up the upper level seats in the stadium. He looked to his left and coming toward him was a guy in his thirties, carrying a young child. They were laughing and the little girl in his arms was burying her head and laughing. Two teenaged girls were pushing each other and laughing as they past Robert by. Robert looked to his right and there was a couple in their twenties, walking hand in hand. A short, heavy set, round man in his fifties with gray hair around the sides of his head approached. The man was bald on top of his head and he had a flushed face as if he had been physically exerting himself. He passed by Robert. Behind him an old lady was slowly walking and examining the concession stands. Nothing looked odd to Robert.

Robert continued to watch people coming and going as the cheers of the crowd rang out with every crack of the bat. He didn’t know why he quickly left his seat once he realized where he was. For some reason he had to get to the concourse. An hour passed and Robert was getting tired of standing and decided to return to his seat. Whatever made him leave his seat had now passed. As he walked toward the opening to the stairs a young boy came into Robert’s line of sight. The boy was about ten years old and was wearing a Kansas City Royals baseball hat. It was sideways on his head. The boy was dressed in a plain blue pocket tee shirt and was wearing beige cargo type shorts. The boy was also wearing white tennis shoes with white socks, which barely covered his ankles. Robert was almost at the top of the stairs and off the concourse when he watched the little boy stop and look around then, walk a few steps and stop again. As Robert watched the kid, the little boy caught Robert’s eye and walked directly to him. Oh great, Robert thought to himself.

Little Boy: Mister, can you help me?

Robert: Yea, sorry kid. I am going back to my seat right now.

Little Boy: But Mister, I can’t find my Dad. I got lost. Can you help me find him, please?

Robert: Look kid, go find a cop. I am sure they can help.

The little boy had a look of fear and confusion on his face. Robert could clearly see the boy was afraid. Not my problem, Robert thought. As Robert turned away from the boy for the stairs, he bumped right into the short, heavy set man, who had passed him by earlier.

Short Man: Oh, excuse me. I’m sorry.

Robert: No problem.

Short Man: I couldn’t help to hear the boy tell you he was lost and looking for his Dad.

Robert: OK. Excuse me. I have to get back to my seat.

Short Man: Aren’t you going to help him?

Robert: Look Pal, I got my own problems. I am sure he will find his Dad. Now, excuse me.

The short man stepped in front of Robert, blocking his access to the stairs. The short man looked right up into Robert’s eyes.

Short Man: So, what you are doing is leaving this child when he needs your help? This is not the way to get back. Do you mind if I help then?

Robert: This is the way back to my seat and look buddy, you can do whatever you want. Now get out of my way.

The short man looked at Robert, tilting his head a bit to the left, stepping out of Robert’s way.

The short man walked over to the boy. He held out his hand.

Short Man: Come on son. I will take care of you.

The boy reached up and grabbed the short man’s hand. Robert watched as the short man and the boy walked away. Just as the short man and the boy started to blend into the sea of people walking on the concourse the short man looked back and smiled at Robert. It sent a chill down Robert’s back. He watched them disappear into the crowd. Robert returned to his seat and watched the New York Yankees beat the Royals, three to two. It was late in the afternoon when the game ended and as he walked to his car he thought how relaxing it would be to get back to his room and watch some TV and relax. Robert had walked up to a Silver Ford Explorer. It was a fairly new model. Robert would be back in his room in minutes after clearing the traffic exiting the stadium parking lots. He was staying at the Clarion Hotel Sports Complex, less than a half mile from Kauffman Stadium. As he pushed the unlock button on the door controller attached to the key, he heard the door locks pop. He climbed into the SUV, hooked up the seatbelt and put the air conditioning on. As he entered his room at the hotel he turned the television on and flipped through the channels before even sitting down. Once he found the local news, he sat on the edge of the bed. He had turned on KMBC in Kansas City, Missouri. As the news continued he went to the desk and set up the coffee and brewed a pot. As he sat back down the local news was reporting a breaking story. Robert sat in the chair by the window, putting the coffee cup on the little table next to it.

KMBC Reporter: Good evening everyone. Just minutes ago Security Officers at Kauffman Stadium found the body of a little boy stuffed into a trash can, in the basement area of Kauffman Stadium. Who the child is or how his little body came to be in a trash can is not yet known. Police are not saying much at this time and we will keep you posted as this horrible story unfolds. As the Reporter was speaking the camera was showing the area where the trash can was located. The camera was not providing close up pictures. As Robert reached for his coffee the camera did a close up shot, enough to show a blue Kansas City Royals baseball cap on the concrete floor under the yellow Police tape. It had blood on the bill and on the C letter of the KC white letters, which were on the front of the cap. Robert jerked in the chair, spilling the coffee all over his lap. The pain from the hot coffee caused Robert to jump from the chair. It’s the boy. That little boy that was lost. I know it’s him. What do I do? he thought to himself. I should call the Police and tell them. No, I can’t do that. I don’t even know if it is the little kid I was talking to, he thought.

Robert was trembling. He sat back down to watch the TV.

KMBC Reporter: We have more on the body of the little boy found at Kauffman Stadium. Police have identified the boy and we are going live to a Police press conference at the stadium. The camera picture changed to a Police Captain in front of a handful of microphones, already speaking.

Captain Cochrane: The body of Jody Matthews was identified by his Father a little while ago. It appears little Jody had wandered off on the concourse during today’s baseball game and his Father had reported him missing minutes after he wandered away. The television showed a picture of the little boy and it took Robert’s breath away. It was the same little boy he had spoken to at the stadium earlier. Robert was in a state of shock as he watched the TV.

Captain Cochrane: This is, in fact, a homicide and we are following all leads at this time. This is a terrible, horrible crime. This young boy was murdered and stuffed into a trash can. Whoever is responsible for this will be brought to justice. This is an all out call for assistance from the public.

KMBC Reporter: Captain, are there any leads at this time?

Captain Cochrane: We are interviewing as many people as we can and are reviewing the surveillance video from the stadium at this time. We will, of course, keep everyone updated as we proceed.

The camera shot returned to the KMBC Reporter.

KMBC Reporter: Well, there you have it. It is a gruesome murder of a little boy, who went to the ballgame with his Dad and will never return home. More information will be made available as we are updated by the Police Department.

Robert picked up the remote and turned off the TV. He sat back in the chair and just stared at the television. The Fat Man, Robert thought to himself.

At the Criminal Investigation Bureau on east 13th Street in Kansas City, Detective Sergeant Roy Barton was sitting at his desk, going over the pictures taken at the crime scene. He winced at every picture he looked at. The murder was gruesome and twisted. The Coroner’s report was alarming.