33
Derek and Nothing Left
“I told you that I’d call you if we found her,” Detective Barrett said.
Derek sat at his kitchen table, his cell phone to his ear, and his crutches on the chair next to him. “Do you have any new leads?”
“No.”
“Is there anything I should be doin’?”
Detective Barrett blew out a breath. “The best thing you can do, Mr. Reeves, is stay out of it and let us do our job.” The detective disconnected the call.
Derek tossed his phone on the kitchen table, the cell landing next to a blue urn that held what was left of his mother. It had been ten days since April went missing, and the police still didn’t have any leads. Derek tried not to think of the implications. He grabbed his crutches and hobbled outside to the apple trees. The boys picked late-season apples by hand, filling their boxes. It was the last harvest of the season. The tractor was parked nearby with the trailer attached.
“We’re almost done,” Ricky said, heaving a full box of apples onto the trailer.
Carlos picked and deposited apples into the apron attached to his chest.
“How much you gonna sell these for?” Ricky asked, his baseball cap shading his face.
Derek shook his head. “Nothing.”
“What?”
“We’re gonna put these along the road with a sign that says free.”
Carlos heard that and turned, his dark eyebrows scrunched together. “Why?”
Derek sighed, leaning on his crutches. “Because I’m gonna lose this place either way. Whatever I make, the banks are gonna take.”
“For real?” Ricky asked.
“Unfortunately,” Derek replied.
“Shit,” Carlos said.
“Come here for a minute, both of you.”
Ricky and Carlos walked closer to Derek, within touching distance. Derek reached into his pocket and removed two small credit cards. He handed each boy a card.
“What’s this?” Carlos asked.
“They’re prepaid credit cards for 300 Fed Coins each. I wish it could be more, but …” Derek exhaled heavily. “Anyway, you can use ’em on Amazon or anywhere.”
Ricky gave Derek a hug and said, “Thanks, Derek.”
“Yeah, thanks, Derek,” Carlos said.
“You two can take as many apples as you want for your family and friends too,” Derek said.
Carlos pursed his lips and asked, “What’s gonna happen to you?”
Derek rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll live on UBI like the rest of America.”
34
Jacob and the Funeral
They were dressed in black, lost in their own thoughts. Rebecca and Lindsey sat in the back seat of the autonomous Mercedes, staring out the windows. Jacob sat in the front passenger seat doing the same. The Mercedes slowed and turned on Derek’s gravel driveway.
Along the road, boxes of apples were stacked on a long table, with a sign that read, FREE. The Mercedes traversed the long driveway through the orchard. Curvy rows of fruit trees flowed across the landscape, their leaves orange and yellow and fire-engine red. The change of seasons came later and later. The Mercedes parked near the farmhouse, next to a battery-powered tractor. The parking area was devoid of cars.
Jacob wondered if anyone was home. He turned to Rebecca. “You sure this is the right day?”
“I think so,” Rebecca replied.
They exited the Mercedes, a cool breeze and a cloudless sky greeting them. The front door was open, the screen door shut.
Rebecca opened the screen door and stepped inside. “Derek?”
He appeared, flanked by two boys. He wore a dark suit, ambling toward them on crutches. The boys—one reddish and freckly, the other tan—wore jeans and button-down shirts, the shirts entirely too big, and probably from Derek’s closet. The tan boy carried a blue urn.
“Thank you for comin’,” Derek said. He moved closer to Lindsey and gave her an awkward one-armed hug on crutches.
Lindsey half-heartedly reciprocated. “I’m sorry about Grandma.”
“Me too, but she lived a full life, and she loved you very much.”
Lindsey nodded, not making eye contact with Derek.
Derek introduced the boys, and everyone exchanged names. Then he said, “I thought we’d pay our respects at her favorite spot.”
Derek guided them through the orchard, along a swale. The boys walked next to Derek, Carlos cradling the urn. Rebecca and Lindsey walked together silently, Jacob bringing up the rear. The swale led to a pond. The sun reflected off the sparkling blue water. A bench sat on the pond wall, overlooking the water, shaded by a bamboo grove.
“This was her favorite spot,” Derek said, leaning on his crutches. “She loved to read out here. When my dad was alive, they used sit out here, talking and fishing.” He gestured to the bench. “Feel free to sit. I thought we could say a few words about Hannah, and then we can spread her ashes in the pond.”
The boys and Lindsey sat on the bench.
“Does anybody have anything they wanna say?” Derek asked.
Everyone was quiet for a few seconds.
Rebecca finally said, “I do.”
Derek hobbled next to the bench, and Rebecca took center stage, standing in front of the group. She adjusted the black shawl that covered her bare shoulders.
“Hannah was a wonderful woman,” Rebecca said. “She welcomed me into this family with open arms and treated me as one of her own. For that I am eternally grateful.”
Jacob glanced at Derek, who looked at Rebecca with a reverence and a familiarity that stirred the green-eyed monster inside Jacob.
Rebecca continued. “She was so kind to Lindsey when she was growing up. Always there to babysit when I needed a break. Always there with kind advice when I needed it. I will cherish my memories of her.” Rebecca smiled with glassy eyes and moved back to Jacob’s side.
“Anybody else?” Derek asked.
Again, it was quiet for a moment.
Carlos raised his hand. “I got somethin’ to say.”
“Go ahead, Carlos,” Derek said.
Carlos handed the urn to Ricky and stood from the bench. He took a few steps and faced the group. “I didn’t know Derek’s mom. She got sick when Ricky and me met Derek. I bet she was a nice lady though, ’cause Derek helped us a lot, so prob’ly she was nice. When I was pickin’ apples yesterday, I was thinkin’ about what my gramma used to say about apples fallin’ by the tree or somethin’.” Carlos looked to Derek for help. “You know what I’m talkin’ about?”
Derek smiled at the boy. “The apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree.”
The boy smiled back. “Yeah, that’s what she used to say. I think it means, if you have a nice mom, then prob’ly you’re gonna be nice. That’s it.” Carlos went back to his seat on the bench.
Derek wiped the corners of his eyes with his thumb. “Thank you, Carlos. Anybody else?” Derek looked to Lindsey, but she looked away. After a moment, with no takers, Derek took center stage. “My mother was a tough, hardworkin’ woman with a big heart. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother. I think she became my best friend later in life. When she lost my dad, and I was … single”—Derek looked away from Rebecca—“we spent a lot of time together, talkin’, eatin’, and workin’ the farmers’ market. I enjoyed bein’ around her because she was a great person. I loved her very much.” Derek took a deep breath and said, “Carlos, can I have the urn?”
The boy stood and handed Hannah’s ashes to Derek. He moved to the water’s edge on his crutches. He opened the urn and turned it upside down, the ashes floating in the breeze, then disappearing into the water. He returned to the group and said, “Thank you for comin’. It means a lot to me. I made spaghetti if anyone’s hungry.”