On The Lam

The impetus for this short story came from a fan. Thank you. I finally mulled it over and hopefully this is how you envisioned the story. I also thank all who have written to me encouraging me to continue to write. Thank you for your support and your patience. I hope to finish some more of my incomplete stories soon.

There is no sex with anyone under the age of eighteen in this story.

The stranger approached the bar and ordered a draft beer after sliding onto a stool. It was early afternoon so the bartender wasn't too busy. The stranger interrupted the cleaning of the bar top. "Say, have you ever seen this guy?" He showed the bartender a picture on his phone that had been obviously taken of another photograph. He laid a twenty on the bar as an inducement to the bartender.

The bartender studied the photo for a while. He used his fingers to enlarge the photo until he could see the face clearly. Of course this just meant that the picture became a little fuzzy.

"I might know him. Why do you want to know?" The bartender wasn't going to lie for anyone but also wasn't going to give out information about someone he might know without good reason.

The stranger gave the bartender a contemplative look and decided that honesty was the best way to proceed. "His name is John Scott. He is my brother-in-law. My sister, his wife, has been trying to track him down for a long time. They had some kind of falling out and he just up and left. We had been in business together and the first I knew of any trouble was when he called and left me a voicemail saying he had to leave and to not contact him. She and I have been looking for him ever since."

"The guy I knew, that might be the same John, is a lot older than that picture shows. How long has he been missing?"

"He has been gone about five years now. The picture was taken a few years before the falling out."

The bartender resumed polishing the top of the bar. "So, what happened? Why did he just up and leave?"

The stranger shrugged his shoulders. "I wish I knew. John and I were roommates and classmates in college and became, at least on my part, best friends. We were studying construction management together. Through me, he met my sister, Karen Price, and they started dating." He stopped and sighed. "I warned him to not treat my sister like a one-night stand and he didn't. As a matter of fact, she had to come to me and tell me to back off when it was time to become physical lovers, not just emotional."

He drained the beer and motioned for another draft. The bartender complied and the stranger continued. "By the way, my name is Troy Price. John and I graduated and worked for a few years in different areas of construction before teaming up to build houses. I ran the framing crews and John did the finish work. From the first we were successful. Both of us are a little obsessive compulsive about building. I made sure the concrete was cured and finished right and that the house was square and all framing was plumb and ready for John. He made sure the sheetrock was taped and mudded so no seams showed. He then would set the cabinets and do all of the casing and trim. He always said that he couldn't help that joints were needed but he didn't see any reason that the customer had to feel any break in the woodwork. His stair railings were works of art. Countertops were so precise sometimes you had to stare to find a joint. His grout work was sublime. We never had a complaint about the workmanship. Doors closed easily. Floors were perfectly flat. And it didn't matter if we were building a small cottage or a high dollar mansion. All were done to the same meticulous standard. We had orders for the next ten years. Customers were willing to wait for us to build their dream house."

He paused and took another sip of his beer. "John and Karen got married before we started the business together. They seemed like the perfect couple. Hell, Maxie and I hope that we can be that happy together. But suddenly John changed. His work was just as good but he quit kidding around with the rest of the crew. No more beers after work. He stopped going to the bowling alley those last few weeks. Karen claimed she didn't know what was bothering him. He was pulling back from her, too. Then, bang, he was gone. Karen was going to tell him that she was pregnant but never got a chance. She now is a single mother of an almost five year old girl. That girl has never seen her dad but I think John knows about her. He has an attorney and sends money every month through an online money service that can't be traced. Karen has to submit receipts to the attorney for expenses for my niece before he will disburse any money."

The bartender nodded. Troy ordered another beer and it was soon sitting front of him. "By the way, what is your name? I hate to talk about personal business without knowing whom I am actually speaking to."

The bartender chuckled. "My name is Markus but most everyone around here calls me Mark."

"Well, Mark, I am glad to meet you. Now, do you know this man?"

"Mr. Price, there is some resemblance here but the man I knew as John, just plain John, no last name, appeared to be considerably older than the guy you have in the picture. His hair was graying and he had a mustache. When he first came to town we were recovering from a bad hailstorm and he was with a crew that was replacing roofs, windows, and siding. Somewhere along the line he found some old chairs that were being thrown out. He restored them, not just repaired them. After that other citizens started to bring damaged antiques for him to restore. Last I heard he had at least a year's worth of work to do."

Troy nodded. "He was starting to do that back home. Someone was talking about throwing out some mid-nineteenth century chairs and I thought John was going to go ballistic. He educated the owner about how that furniture had probably been transported overland via covered wagon because the original owners had refused to part with them. He told the owner that it was disrespectful to destroy someone's legacy just because they needed repair and that the owner had no sense of history or even of value as the chairs would be quite valuable when made like new." He stopped to take a sip of his beer and chuckled. "You know, he did such a great job on those chairs that the owner immediately put them on an auction and made a bunch of money off them."

Mark had to ask. "Did that make this John guy upset that the owner sold them?"

With a negative shake of his head, Troy responded, "Hell, no, John just said that the new owners would now appreciate what they had and would care for the chairs the way they should be cared for. He just went back to work doing his thing."

He took a long pull on the brew. "Now, tell me, Mark, did John tell you or anyone here in town why he was on the run? I just can't figure it out. I have beat my head against the wall trying to figure out what happened. Did I do something wrong? Karen is the same way. Our families all have tried to figure out what happened."

Mark now was the one to shake his head. "The John that came here was a very quiet and reserved person. He would stop for a beer after work and then be off. Occasionally the guys here would coerce him into a game of pool or darts but that was it. Hell, even the women tried to entice him into some bedroom games but he would just point to his ring finger and shake his head no."

He paused in contemplation. "You know, he came here about a year ago. Early on some of the hotheads tried to get his goat just to see what he would do. They failed miserably until the night one of the deadheads decided to grope Mindy Summers and she didn't like that. By the time the cops arrived three of the dipshits were on the floor with various injuries. John had barely broke a sweat and certainly wasn't hurt in any way. He almost got arrested but Mindy and the rest of the crowd made such a stink that the cops let any charges go. Those three have not come in here since that night. They don't even check to see if John is here or not, they just make a wide path around and go somewhere else to carouse."

Mark wiped down a glass and then asked, "By the way, how did you track this John character to our little town? We are a ways off the beaten track."

With a chuckle Troy let Mark in on a secret. "John always places a small mark or brand on any piece of furniture he repairs. A new resident to our town was giving us a tour of his house during his housewarming party and I happened to comment on the really nice secretary. He was proud to talk about the history of finding the piece in an old barn and the craftsman who brought it back to life. He couldn't say enough about who and where he found the piece and got it restored. I then checked the back and found John's brand. That led me here. I hope he is still here but I have followed up other leads in the past and he had usually just moved on before I could get there. Once I missed him only by a few days but usually he had been gone for a few months."

He gave Mark a hopeful look. "So, by chance, is John still here?"

Mark polished another glass as he appeared to think deeply. "I guess all I can say is that I haven't seen him in here for a few weeks. You might ask around. Someone might have seen him. Like I said, he keeps to himself. He has an old beater pickup and a large trailer that he keeps his tools in so he might be out at one of the outlying ranches working on something and not have the time to come in for a beer."

Mark sat down the glass and leaned on the bar. "Tell me something now. I know it's none of my business but why are you trying to find him? Hasn't his wife divorced him citing abandonment? Wouldn't she then be given half of the business and you just continue on?"

Troy didn't let that phase him. "It gets kind of complicated. When we had our partnership agreement drawn up there were obviously rights of survivorship if either of us died but our lawyer wanted to protect the business in case of divorce. So, my sister would have to sue to make us sell the business to get her half. Without John there, I couldn't sell out, even if I wanted to. His attorney has a very limited power of attorney so he can't authorize the sale or even the modification of the agreement."

He signaled for another beer and took a sip when it was placed in front of him. "As far as divorce goes, same problem. After about a year Karen filed as she had started to date a new man. They went to court and the judge said that, since John was sending money regularly, there was no abandonment. Just because John couldn't be found for service of papers was not enough to grant a divorce. We hired a PI then to try and track John down but it was a very expensive waste of money as that firm couldn't find a trace. It wasn't until I started to, on rare occasions, find a piece of furniture that John had restored that we had any kind of luck. Sometimes Karen and Lacie, his daughter, pursue the leads but most of the time I am the one to travel. But, there have only been a few sightings of John in all these years."

Troy took another sip of his beer. Obviously, he was trying to not get too drunk but what beer he had been imbibing was affecting his judgement a little. "I know it's selfish of me, but I also want to find John and beg him to come back. I can't find anybody with his attention to detail and skill so, even though I am still successful, it's not at the level when John was doing the finish work." He got a very serious look on his face. "Do you know the story of the small church in the desert where there was no stairs built to the choir loft?" Mark shook his head.

"Well, this poor church was completed without a way to the choir loft. No one knows for sure why. I suppose the choir used a ladder to get up since there was little room for a full staircase. There was a search for a long time to find a carpenter to put in a staircase but either there was no interest or there was no money to pay for it so the whole idea languished for a long time. Then one day, an old man with a burro and a few tools showed up. He requested no money but asked for complete solitude to do his work. When finished he and his burro disappeared back into the desert. The staircase is a wonder of craftsmanship and engineering. It is wood with no support and the staircase is winding and each stringer is one solid piece of wood. No one knows where the wood even came from." Troy leaned back. "That is the kind of craftsman that John is. And I want him back."

The conversation carried on. Troy asked other patrons about John. No one seemed to be able to help him. All remembered the quiet man with the graying hair and mustache. Some said that their John would not shave for a couple of weeks at a time and that his beard was pretty salt and pepper also. Troy seemed skeptical as he said his friend and brother-in-law was always fastidious in his appearance. His hair was kept in a short style and he was always clean shaven, even after a long night of working on furniture.

Troy ordered and downed a large cheeseburger with fries for supper and then hit up the evening crowd with similar results. No one knew if John had moved on but, at the same time, no one could remember seeing him recently. A couple of people left the bar and came back to report the John's pickup and trailer were missing from the last remembered spot.

Troy stuck it out until last call before being helped out and to the nearest motel for some needed sleep. He had imbibed a lot of beer over the course of the afternoon and evening and was going to have a hell of a headache in the morning. Mark was left with the feeling that Troy was not going to hang around long as he had confessed to needing to get home and finish some houses. The housing market was starting to slump and he couldn't afford to have a lot of money tied up in unsalable houses, especially ones that John had not put his famous finishing touches on.

After locking up Markus drew up a couple of brews and placed them on the bar. A thin older looking gentleman came out from the kitchen and sat down in front of one of the beers. Markus started the quiet conversation. "You heard it all?"

The lanky older man, with the slumped shoulders and air of age, nodded. Suddenly he sat up straight and appeared to become younger right in front of Marcus's eyes. It was like he was throwing off a huge weight on his shoulders.

"I don't know why they keep looking. Yeah, the partnership agreement is a stumbling block but it's not like he's giving money to a stranger. It is his sister, for crying out loud, not my sister. She deserves part of the profit, the profit that would be owed to me whether I was there helping or not."

"You know, John, you have never told me or anyone else in our little town the whole story. Why don't you unburden yourself for once? Bartender/client privilege will be observed. No one will hear a bit of what you tell me."

John shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose you are correct. I have kept my peace for over five years. I should tell someone." He gave out a big sigh and took a drink of the beer. "Well, to begin with, I have always liked working with wood. My grandfather gave me a whittling knife when I was still in grade school and showed me how to carve. Every time I got to stay with him we would sit and take a block of wood and see what was hidden in it."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'what was hidden in it'?"

John chuckled. "Each piece of wood is different. You might start out with something specific in mind but as you work the wood the graining might not agree with you and so you either throw the piece away or work to figure out what the wood is telling you. Sometimes I would start out to carve a bird and end up with something vastly different, like a car or a snake. Once time I started out to carve a simple penguin and ended up with an eagle with outspread wings. Grandpa would critique each piece. Sometimes they ended up in the fireplace but most of the time we would oil them up and put them on the shelf. I go back to that old cabin every year or so and just carve and hope some of his peace will come to me."

John took another sip. "Every year we would make wood cars, trucks, and trains for the less fortunate. Wood dolls didn't seem to make little girls very happy but I would also make doll house furniture, sometimes for twelve inch fashion dolls, for them. I still do that at Christmas time."

Markus nodded head. He remembered the gifts in the community box last Christmas. No one knew for sure where they had come from but he and a few others had made guesses. "I was sure that you were behind those toys as we had not had anything like that for years and, even then, they weren't as detailed as the ones you do."

John shrugged. "It is something I like to do. I sit in my trailer in the evening and carve. The wood tells me what to make and I just remove the unnecessary bits until it appears." Markus just shook his head. It was hard to believe that the talent shown in the carvings was just "removing the unnecessary bits".

"By the way, that story Troy told you about the staircase? That is true, by the way, but I am not anywhere near that talented. That was a miracle. They can't even figure out what kind of wood was used, let alone how it was done." He stopped for another sip before continuing.

"I guess I always knew I would end up in construction. There is not much call for a wood carver in this age of machined stuff. Hell, a good CNC machine with lasers do much more precise work and force the wood into compliance for a lot less than I would have to charge to make even a percentage of what I made doing finish work."

He sighed. "I went to college to learn the business side of construction. I knew, from my apprenticeship in high school, that I had the skills to succeed. I just needed the knowledge of how to make it pay more than just wages. Troy and I met when we were assigned to be roommates together. Our hometowns were not far apart so we also gave each other rides home for holidays and breaks. On the first trip I met Karen. She was a junior in high school. She was cute, you know the cheerleader type, and I wanted her but didn't even flirt with her until after she had graduated a year later. She decided to attend the same school as us so we introduced her on campus and made sure the frat boys made nice. We were both acting like big brothers. I wanted to date her but I forced myself to wait until she spread her wings a little."

After a slight pause he continued. "After her freshman year she approached me one night and demanded to know when I was going to get around to dating her. She was tired of waiting. We became an item then. I won't go into the specifics but she gave me her virginity soon after and we were inseparable after that. After I graduated I took a construction job in the same town as the university was located so that I could still be there for her. We lived in a small apartment just off the campus until she graduated with her teaching degree."

Markus had to ask. "What about Troy?"

"Well, we had discussed our future partnership in great detail but knew that we couldn't just start up a business without building our reputations first. Troy moved back to his hometown and started with a large company as a framer. He worked both commercial and domestic to get experience and was soon a crew supervisor. I did the same with a smaller company and did finish work. On the commercial side my boss was not happy with my attention to detail as it took extra time. It wasn't until he realized that customers weren't calling and complaining about shoddy workmanship before he got off my back."

John shook his head at the next memory. "After Karen graduated we got married and moved back to her hometown. Since it was only about an hour's drive from there to my hometown, my parents weren't that unhappy I had not returned home. My grandfather was still alive and his small cabin was about a two hour drive away and Karen professed to love to go and visit and just commune with nature while Grandpa and I hung out and carved. I was as happy as a pig in a mudhole. Our sex life was fantastic. She held nothing back and we explored different things to see what we liked and disliked and there was little we disliked. I guess it all started to fall apart when I got the bug to restore furniture."