Monday, April 6, 2026

From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 7, The Speech

 This is episode seven of the novel, From Here To 1137

  If you would like to purchase "From  Here to 1137," it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or 


The Speech

Tom drove back to the grange. Debbie waited for him at the door.

“Hi, Debbie,” Tom said. “I saw you at the funeral, but I didn’t get a chance to greet you. I really wanted to talk to you. I wanted to thank you again for the other night.”

“You had your hands full,” Debbie said. “I knew you would eventually get to me.”

She held onto his hand. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Tom smiled. “Don’t I look good. I mean, I'm a little worse for wear, but it’s been a tough ten days. I’m not like I was a week ago. I was a mess.”

“I’m talking about you and Edgar,” Debbie said.

“Edgar,” Tom said, “he’s fine. He really had to get back.”

She smiled. “Don’t mess with me, Thomas Randolph Bales.”

“What?” Tom said, feigning innocence. “I would never do that.”

“I heard the conversations with Gene Francis and the one you had in the car with Edgar.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom asked. 

“No,” Debbie said, “of course not. I was in the women’s bathroom at the funeral home. It’s next to the room you, Edgar, and Gene Francis were in. It just took me longer to tinkle than normal. I heard it all. Then I went out to get in the car. My car was next to yours and a little behind it. I was afraid of starting the motor and letting you know I was there.”

“Well,” Tom said, “honestly, I’m not feeling so good. Edgar is right, we never did have a connection. He was like a distant god to me. I didn’t know him, but I worshipped his image and what I thought he was. He was like this guy who was away in some distant land. He was smart and good-looking and talented. He was going to make a name for himself. Everybody used to ask about him. Teachers in school wouldn’t ask me how I was doing; they asked me if I had heard from Edgar lately, and how is he doing? Tell him I said, hi.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Debbie said. “I know you as well as anyone does. You’re smart. And that family picture of you on the buffet.”

“When I was eleven,” Tom said.

“Edgar was a young man in that photo,” Debbie said. “You were a boy. You are now a young man. You’ve grown into those teeth and ears, quite handsomely, I must say.”

They gazed momentarily at each other.

“Let’s get inside,” Tom said. 

“Yeah,” Debbie said, “there are folks who have yet to express their sympathies.”

A few more people were at the grange hall than at the funeral home. A table was set up that displayed photos of Katy Bales. Many of them were taken at various grange events.

Hank Somers stood in front of the display of photos. He blew into a standing microphone. “Can I have your attention?” He paused and waited for everyone’s attention. “I said about all that could have been said at the funeral home. I thought Edgar might be around to speak for the family, but Tom told me he was working on some very important cases back in New York. So we’ll just leave it at that. I know you all wanted to hear from him. There’s plenty to eat. It just started to rain, so there’s nothing to do. Stick around and enjoy each other’s company.”

“Let’s hear from Tom,” a voice said from the back of the room. Everyone turned around. It was Gene Francis.

Everyone was quiet. 

Hank lifted his head, looking for Tom. On seeing him, he said, “You wouldn’t want to say something, would you?”

Mr. Trusdale, Debbie's father, yelled out, “I sure would like him to say something.”

Others chimed in. Hank motioned for Tom to come forward.

Tom begrudgingly walked to the microphone.

“It ain’t gonna bite you, son,” Hank said and stepped away.

Tom cleared his throat. He looked at Debbie. She smiled.

“The only times I’ve talked in front of people were book reports,” Tom said nervously. “I just finished The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway.” He chuckled. “I don’t ‘spose you want me to report on it. It was pretty boring.”

Laughter waved over the room.

Tom smiled embarrassingly. 

“I guess there were two sides to Mom. At home, she shone, but here, among you folks, she sparkled. Or maybe that’s the other way around. Either way, I think you get it. When Dad died, Mom picked up the flag and charged forward. She kept the farm going. Edgar went off to college. It was just her and me. Funny, the last ten days, I thought about all our times together. It was as if every little thing she did and said was thought out well beforehand. Her words were like works of art. They painted beautiful pictures full of meaning. Each stroke blended with the last and prepared for the next.”

Tom heaved a deep breath and smiled. “Thanks for being here.”

Everyone applauded. 

The reception continued.

  Tom received many handshakes and hugs.

Gene approached Tom after a couple of ladies had talked with him.

“Nicely done,” Gene said. 

“I wish you hadn’t have done that,” Tom said. “I thought I was going to wet myself. It would have been better if Edgar were doing it.”

“Balderdash,” Gene said, “Edgar would still be talking—about himself. You were the man to do it. Edgar hardly knows your Mom, and you do. And that’s nobody’s fault but his. Believe me, your mom and I had many conversations about Edgar. By the way, what happened to Edgar?”

“I drove Edgar to a car rental,” Tom said. “He rented a car and headed to the airport.”

“I thought that wasn’t supposed to be until later on,” Gene said.

“He was really upset,” Tom said. “I’m glad he wasn’t here. He probably would have said or done something he’d regret later.”

“I doubt that,” Gene said. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I know a different side to your brother and not from your mother. She never talked badly about him, only heartbroken and perplexed.”

  Gene handed Tom an envelope. “Inside are two copies of your mom’s will. Send one to Edgar. Also, there’s some cash in there. The cash is for one purpose and one purpose only.”

“And that would be,” Tom looked side-eyed at Gene.

“The purpose is after this shindig his over, take Debbie Truesdale to a movie, and after the movie take her to the best place in town.” 

Tom hesitated and grinned.

“Tom,” Gene said, “it’s raining. You can’t pick corn in the rain.”

Tom winked. “Thanks, Gene.”

Indeed, Tom and Debbie took in a movie, went bowling, and enjoyed a meal at the best restaurant in town.

No comments:

Post a Comment