AWLL 1 - Book 7 - Kara II

May 1982, Milford, Ohio

'If you end up with a boring, miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your teacher, your priest, or some guy on television telling you how to do your shit, then you deserve it.' -Frank Zappa

Alan Blanchard lay on a treatment table, covered by a sheet up to his neck. There were wrappers, supplies, and other things strewn on the floor showing just how chaotic the room had been only fifteen minutes ago.

"Oh, Alan!" Mrs. Blanchard moaned.

"Daddy!" Kara cried, tears streaming down her face.

They both kissed him, Kara on his cheek and Mrs. Blanchard on his lips, and, after a few minutes, we left the room. My dad and the pastor were standing just outside the door when we came out.

Pastor Kent looked me in the eyes and said, "For the wages of sin IS death..."

"Pastor!" Kara said sharply.

Reflexively, my fist looped through the air, heading directly for Kent van der Meer's nose.

My dad reacted in an instant, grabbing my arm and preventing me from actually making contact with the pastor's nose.

"No Steve," he said gently but firmly, "This isn't the way." He turned to the pastor and with a hard look said, "I'd leave now, if I were you."

"I need to take the Blanchards home and pray with them," the pastor protested, though he took a step backwards.

"I think you need to leave," Dad said firmly. "I'll make sure they get home."

The deputy walked over and asked, "Is there a problem here?"

"No," my dad said, "This gentleman was just leaving. He said something foolish, but I have it completely under control."

The deputy looked at all of us, nodded, and stepped back. Kent van der Meer was wise enough to heed my dad's advice and moved a few steps away.

"Do you have your car here?" I asked Kara.

"No, we came in Pastor Kent's car. We followed the paramedics."

"We came in my car," I said. "It'll be tight, but we'll fit."

My dad walked over to talk to the nurse at the desk, then walked back to us.

"Mrs. Blanchard," he said softly, "do you have a place you want Alan taken?"

"No. We're so young and we didn't even think about anything like this! He just turned forty-one!" she started crying again.

"Dad, what about Missy Noakes' dad's funeral home?" I asked. "It's on Main in Milford."

"That's what I was thinking, too. I know Bill Noakes. I can call him if you like, Mrs. Blanchard."

She nodded, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Dad went over to the pay phones and made two phone calls. He was back five minutes later.

"They'll pick him up later today," he said gently, then turned, "Pastor, what funeral arrangements do we need to make?"

"Wednesday or Thursday at the church. Probably Thursday. We'll need a place to lay him to rest as well."

"We can worry about that tomorrow," my dad said, having firmly established control. "For now, we'll get them home."

"I'll call the head of our ladies' organization," the pastor said. "They'll bring meals to the Blanchards for the next few days."

My dad nodded, "OK. Steve, let's get Kara and her mom home. You take them out to the car. I want to speak with the pastor."

I put my arms around both women and slowly walked them to the car. Kara's mom had stopped crying again, but tears still streamed down Kara's face. I helped Kara into the back seat, but decided I should sit with her and climbed in. Mrs. Blanchard got into the passenger seat. Dad came out about five minutes later, walked towards the passenger door, then realized the driver's seat was empty and went around to the other side. I handed the keys to him after he got in, then he started the car and pulled away.

Kara was leaning against me, and didn't seem to be able to stop crying. We drove in silence back to the Blanchards' house.

"Someone will need to get Alan's car," Mrs. Blanchard said when we pulled into the driveway.

"It'll be safe in the lot at church, won't it?" I asked. "We can get it later, or even tomorrow."

She nodded and led us into the house. The phone was ringing as we walked in and Mrs. Blanchard went to answer it. She hung up after a brief conversation and we all sat down in the living room.

"That was the pastor's wife. She and some of the ladies are on their way over."

"I'll go make some coffee," I said, getting up to go to the kitchen.

Kara followed me and sat at the kitchen table, pointing to where I'd find the coffee container. I started the Mr. Coffee, and with Kara's help, found the sugar bowl and cream pitcher, both of which I filled. I also got out coffee cups and a tray, and brought all of that into the living room where my dad was talking to Kara's mom.

"I really don't know," she said to my dad. "He had life insurance, but I don't know the details, really. He handled everything."

"OK. If you can find the papers for me, I can help you with that. I have a very good attorney and accountant who can help with anything you need. Did Alan have a will?"

"Yes, he did get one made up last year. It leaves everything to me or Kara."

"Good," Dad said, "That makes it easier."

"Do we HAVE to talk about all this now?" Kara wailed.

I pulled her closer to me and hugged her.

"Son, why don't you and Kara take a walk? I think she could use the fresh air."

I kind of agreed with Kara, but I also knew my dad was right. Everything had changed an hour ago, and ignoring it wouldn't make any of the issues go away. And come to think of it, I had no idea what all the issues were. My dad had known right away about calling a funeral home. I hadn't even thought about that. The same was true for a cemetery, something that, until an hour ago, had been a nice quiet place to take walks when visiting my grandparents' house.

I stood and took Kara's hand and led her out of the house, put my arm around her and we walked slowly down the street.

"What are we going to do?" Kara whispered.

I had no real answer for that. I had no clue how to deal with the situation. It dawned on me that I had not known anyone other than Birgit who had died, and I didn't have the first clue of what to do.

"Love each other, Kara. That's all we can do, I guess. You and your mom. Me and you. Just love each other."

"Your dad was so calm," she said.

"He's always been like that, really," I said. "I suspect he went through a lot in World War II that he hasn't told any of us about. And, remember, he's sixty-five, so he's probably thought about all this stuff more than your parents, who are around forty, and you and me, who are barely adults."

We walked for another five minutes in silence, then turned back towards the house. We went inside and my dad and Kara's mom were still sitting in the living room talking.

"Steve, call your sister and let her know where I am. She can tell your mom for me. Let them know I'll be home in an hour or so, after Mrs. Blanchard's friends arrive."

"OK, Dad," I replied.

Kara and I went to the kitchen so I could make the call. I dialed my old number, which now rang in Stephanie's room, and Stephanie answered on the second ring.

"Stephanie, I need to tell you something to relay to Mom. Dad and I are at the Blanchard's house. Dad will be home in about an hour."

"What's Dad doing there?"

"Stephanie, Kara's dad died of a heart attack this morning."

"Oh my God!" Stephanie gasped. "How is she? How are you?"

"I'm OK," I replied. "Kara is torn up, just as you would expect. I received a call this morning at home, and Dad and I rushed to the hospital. Just let Mom know that Dad will be home in an hour."

"OK. Can I come see Kara?"

"Maybe later. Let's see how things go."

We said 'goodbye' and hung up.

"Kara, I need to call Pete and Melanie and Bethany. We should call Joyce, too, but she's probably on her way to Don Joseph's. I have the number there so we can leave her a message to call us. Is there anyone you want to call?"

"Besides Joyce and Bethany? Susie. I'm sure she knows because she was in church this morning."

I handed her the phone, and she called Susie, who had already heard that Kara's dad had died, and asked her to come over. She handed me the receiver, and I called Bethany.

"Oh my God, Steve!" she gasped. "Is it OK if I come right over?"

I covered the mouthpiece and asked Kara, who just nodded.

"Yes," I told Bethany. "I need to make a couple more calls."

I called Melanie, who said that she and Pete were leaving right away and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. I let Kara know, then I called Don Joseph's house. He answered, and I quickly explained the situation and asked him to please have Joyce call me as soon as she arrived.

"Steve, «figlio mio», if I can do anything, anything at all, please ask. And tell your lovely girlfriend that I am sorry for this terrible event."

"Thank you, Don Joseph. I will," I said.

We said 'goodbye' and I replaced the receiver. As I hung up, I heard the doorbell rang and got up to answer it, suggesting to Kara that she stay sitting. Several women, who I assumed were from Kara's church, were at the door. I let them in and they went straight to the living room. Dad got up when they came in and followed me back to the kitchen.

"I'm going to come by tomorrow morning at 10:00am. I'll probably bring Larry Walsh with me to help sort everything out. She's going to need a lot of help with all the details. I suggested Greenlawn Cemetery on Route 50, because it's close to here and the church. She asked me to call and make the arrangements for her."

"Thanks a lot, Mr. Adams," Kara said.

"You're welcome, Dear. Your mom is really going to need you for a while. Steve, can you run me home? I know you want to stay with Kara, but I want to talk to you. You can come right back."

"I guess. If we can wait for Bethany or Susie to get here, I'd appreciate it. They're on their way."