Chapter 11
The first rays of the sun stretched over the horizon as Kelly’s best friend knock on his front door. The stench of whiskey and a sexy women's perfume still lingered on Todd as he walked into Kelly's house. As Kelly searched for his secret phonebook, Todd poured himself a drink. “I hope this meeting is not a waist of my time John. You wouldn’t believe the size of the tits on the beautiful blonde I gave up to come over here.”
Todd loved three things in this world. Whiskey, blonds and his friend Kelly. Todd Beacon was a platoon soldier alongside J.C. Kelly in the last Great War. Just like Kelly, Todd used alcohol and women as a means to escape the horrible memories of all the men they killed during D-day. Todd was a fun loving whiskey drinking man with a horrible past that he hide from the rest of the world. His perpetual smile was only a mask that concealed his torment. Despite his outward jubilant appearance, Todd’s soul was riddled with scars.
The forty years since the war, had turned Todd’s once long blond hair gray. He still retained his chiseled jaw, bright blue eyes and a well toned muscular body. Despite his age, Todd was still considered by most women to be very good looking guy.
“I found it,” John said as he dusted off his phonebook.
Todd fixed himself a glass of whiskey as Kelly searched his book for the name of Kevin Spencer’s best friends during the war. “Private Robert Freeman; just as I remember it. Robert f. Freeman and Kevin Spencer were quite close at one time, Maybe Freeman knows something about Kevin's murder?”
Robert Freeman was a bomb expert in Kelly's platoon. Robert was small in stature, but he had a big heart. Kelly fondly remembered the many times that Robert saved his life during the war. At only five feet tall, private Freeman paled in comparison to the other members of the platoon, but he had plenty of grit and could kill them all with just one of his homemade bombs.
“Let's see,” Kelly said as he thumbed through the dusty phonebook. “Private Robert f. Freeman eight-six Airborne platoon. “No telephone number.”
“That’s it, nothing else? Doesn’t your little book say where he is now?”
An unsuspected tear trickled down Kelly’s cheek as he suddenly remembered the sad morning when he got a call and found out that Robert Freeman was dead.
“How could I ever forget that Robert died in an accident thirty years ago,” Kelly said as he wiped away a tear from his cheek. Kelly flipped a page on his phone book. “I see another name: Robert Banner? Does the name, Robert Banner sound familiar to you Todd? I don’t remember a guy named Banner from the platoon.”
Todd grumbled and took another shot of whiskey. “Don’t you remember, Kevin Spencer was only fifteen years when he enlisted. Kevin used a fake birth certificate and a fake name; Robert Banner to enlist in the airborne platoon.”
Kelly struggled to remember the many years since D-day. “Oh yeah, your right, the next shot is on me.”
“I guess it’s time we play our respect to the widow, Mrs. Deloris Spencer,” Todd grunted as he finished his fourth glass of whiskey.