I Love Corey, Chapter Nineteen

I Love Corey, Chapter Nineteen

The phone woke me up. It was dark and I had a hard time finding the phone but eventually managed to answer it. Let’s just say that the drunk sounding male voice who seemed to feel he had the right and duty to chastise me over my resignation from the boy Scouts and his derogatory comments concerning myself and my personal habits was less than welcome. I managed to jot down the phone number from caller ID, along with the time, and hung up.

Twenty minutes later the phone rang again. Same thing except it was a different voice and phone number. That caused me to get up and go into the living room to switch the answering machine on and turn the ringer off. It was now two-thirty in the morning. I fell back into bed and, cuddling up to Corey, went back to sleep. 

About an hour later I was awakened by a crash in the living room. When I went to investigate I found a brick had been thrown through the window and a note was tied to it. I woke Corey up and told him to go to his room and mess the bed up while I called the cops. While I was waiting for the police to arrive I started a pot of coffee. In a few minutes Corey came out of his room completely dressed. I decided that sounded like a good idea so I went and dressed. I don’t know why but I felt better with regular clothes instead of a robe.

When the police arrived I pointed out the brick with the note attached still lying where it had landed and they started asking questions. While they were still asking questions another call came and I let them hear it and copy down the number. This call was different in that it asked how I liked the “evening’s entertainment”? Once again the caller sounded intoxicated. By this time the police had called in their lab people and after checking for fingerprints they carefully removed the note from the brick and we read it. It was a basic hate note if there is such a thing, put together with glue and words from a newspaper, and accused me of being a “queer” and trying to turn all my students into “fucking homos”. In the meantime a call came over their radio asking them to check out another problem and the address given was Vern’s home. Figuring he was up and experiencing the same things we were, I called him while the lab people continued to look for evidence. 

We compared stories and they were about the same except he’d answered four calls as his answering machine didn’t work right when the ringer was turned off. We checked and found I had two calls stored and they were also from some drunks who were attempting to harass me.

In this instance the fact that the callers appeared to be intoxicated and had no idea of what they were doing worked in our favor. They were either too drunk or too intoxicated to cover their tracks. It didn’t take the police long to track down the culprits and arrest them. It seems our friend, the Reverend Langston, had been enjoying a few drinks with several of his parishioners and in their intoxicated state they had decided to let us know what they thought of us and our stand on the Boy Scouts. Vern and I, along with several of the school board members, had been selected as victims and they put their plan into action. They went to their respective homes and made the calls, keeping them short so they couldn’t be traced, all the while forgetting about caller ID. Their other problem was that no one should ever drive while he is drinking. Rev. Langston, who was driving, had the misfortune of running off the road. When the police were checking out the accident, they found a couple more bricks in the car with notes tied to them. By dawn the case was solved. They had managed to break windows at Vern’s, Downey’s Market, Mr. Jeffery’s house (another member of the school board), and my place. The call list was more extensive as it included the other five school board members. All in all it had been a busy night for a bunch of pillars of their church. 

Sometimes I just don’t understand people. Of course, those of us who had been targets, called each other and talked things over. None of us wanted to make things worse than they all ready were. By the time we had all talked it over, we agreed that we wouldn’t press charges if the guilty parties would pay for the damages and give us a public apology. We decided that the apology should be given in their church and printed in the local paper and we had the right to approve the wording of it. When we informed the District Attorney of our decision, he was less than enthusiastic. I suspect part of it was due to the fact that he’d been called out on Sunday but he wanted to prosecute them to the fullest extent of the law. He shouldn’t have worried. When presented with our idea the Rev. Langston flatly refused. He kept yelling something about free speech. I couldn’t believe it. Since when is breaking windows considered free speech? We were offering them an easy way out and they refused to take it. I mean, how can some people be so stupid?

That sort of fouled up the start of Sunday morning. In fact by the time it was all sorted out the morning was over and it was time to consider lunch. I still had to do something about the window.

I bought a couple of sheets of plywood and covered the broken window. At least it would keep the weather out until I could make arrangements to have it repaired. Corey was a big help. It’s hard to hold a complete sheet of plywood up and nail it in place. As it worked out I would hold the sheet in place and Corey would drive some nails in it to hold it. It took longer to purchase the plywood than it did to install it. Some duct tape ala Red Green and the wind no longer blew in. I knew watching that silly program would prove handy some day. I even had the VCR set up to tape it. The only problem was Corey didn’t always get all the jokes. Guess you have to be a little older to appreciate some of the humor.

We finally finished lunch and headed over to Downey’s for some groceries. We were no more than through the door when Mrs. Downey cornered us. It was pretty apparent she was upset.

It was quite a litany I wound up listening to. I learned about the Rev. Langston and the fact that his church had welshed on a grocery bill. Not only that, several of the members had attempted to pay with checks that were returned marked insufficient funds. All in all, the congregation appeared to be comprised of people who might best be described as being on the lower rungs of society. Of course not all of them were, but they seemed to attract more than their share. Mrs. Downey went on, explaining that the church used to be different until the Rev. Langston had taken over. He’d arrived about ten years ago and since that time the congregation had changed. A lot of the members had changed churches and the ones that replaced them were of a different character. Mrs. Downey was worried that the present membership was of such a radical nature that there was the possibility of vandalism or violence.