Bedlam in Suburbia

By Teresa Meeks

William and his son Jeremy Webster thought they were starting their lives over in a quiet suburban Ohio community. Within 24 hours they meet the neighborhood militant and the sweet old Grandma.

When small time harassment takes a turn, their lives become bedlam and mayhem. What did the Webster’s do to deserve such cruelty? Were they in the wrong house at the wrong time or was it simply the luck of the draw?

Bedlam in Suburbia will put a new meaning to “Welcome to the Neighborhood.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa Meeks
• Release date: Aug 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476126128

Teresa Meeks

Thank you to all my readers.I've been sharing my stories for over 5 years. I'm awed every month when I see people reading my books from locations as far away as the Netherlands, Venezuela, and Australia. These are places I would love to see one day and people are enjoying the mystery of my characters.For those avid followers, I have the sequel to Tortured Journey coming soon. Stay tuned for Tortured Tides. This is my favorite series of books. I’m already working on my next page turner and it will be the 3rd in the “Tortured” series. I hope to have the next adventure out in 2016.I hope you enjoy reading the books because I’ve enjoyed writing them.

Book preview

Bedlam in Suburbia

Published by Teresa Meeks at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 by Teresa Meeks

Cover Design and Art by Narvin Meeks

Edited by Donna Gerard, Narvin Meeks,

DiAnn Lisica, and Bobbie Fields

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Chapter 1

The sun was slowly rising over the housetops as the birds were chirping their good mornings to Richard Turnsberry. Richard sat in his favorite chair on his front porch slowly sipping his black coffee out of his favorite commemorative mug which celebrated his 30 years of dedicated service in the Marines. His gray hair was cut in the same military fashion and unless you had witnessed the retirement ceremony eight years earlier, you would guess that Richard was preparing for his day of salutes. Other than the death of his precious wife Betty, retiring from his beloved military career was the lowest point in Richard’s life.

Richard was proud of his tenure in the armed forces. Like clockwork he rose early before the sun would dare to rise. He would perform morning calisthenics and run his three miles. Then he would iron his khaki pants and button up shirt. After applying the perfect amount of starch to his pants he continued with his routine of shaving and showering. It was an understatement to say Richard took pride in his appearance. Looking at himself in the mirror, his barrel chest was puffed up and his stomach sucked in like a preening peacock projecting authority. Standing at an average height at 5’10" he seemed bigger by the aura that surrounded him. He was someone who wouldn’t tolerate anything less than perfection.

Retirement had been good to Richard. He had a modest house, built within the first year of being a civilian. Betty, who was petite and submissive, decorated the 2000 square foot ranch-style house with just a hint of charm that Richard didn’t object to. Anything frilly was out of the question. He didn’t want doilies, lace, or to give a country bumpkin impression when people visited.

Richard was rough and tough but Betty knew exactly what to say to melt his insides. She was the sugar to his salt and vinegar personality. Betty had passed away more than three years earlier and the more time that passed the harder and more cynical Richard became. Frown lines were deeply etched into his forehead and around his eyes and mouth. Richard’s strong jaw jutted out and he had a look that seemed to say you want a piece of me? Come and get it if you can. No one could ever replace Betty, but Richard had found Eisenhower, his faithful German Shepherd, two years earlier. Named for General Eisenhower, Richard had raised him from a pup. Eisenhower seemed to make Betty’s passing a little easier. Replacing Richard’s servicemen from his glory years, Eisenhower didn't move, eat, go outside, or wag his tail without Richard's command.

Each morning after his shower Richard would march to a flag pole located in his front yard and perform a customary flag raising and he would salute to his freedom. Returning to his chair he watched steam roll from the top of his mug as he admired the railing of the porch he had finished repairing just the day before.

Eisenhower and Richard slowly and simultaneously gazed up and down the neighborhoods street surveying lawns and the condition of homes. With clipboard in hand he jotted down that the MacKenzie’s home needed fertilizer; that the Phillips’ home needed a coat of paint; and the Reynold’s garage door needed to be completely closed instead of partially open. Locating the subdivision’s covenants underneath the note pad, he found the page and section to notate the offense for each residence. The blue certified warning letter would go out in the mail today.

The sun casted its easterly shade on the hedge and Richard’s automatic sprinklers had just come on when HONK, HONK, HONK!! Out of nowhere the morning was interrupted by the loud horn of an obnoxious moving company truck as it pulled up at a house just down the street. Birds squawked and dogs started howling from the intrusion of their morning peace.

Richard came immediately to his feet and stomped down the porch steps to the edge of the grass in his yard. With his hands on his hips, he stared and sneered at the truck and its occupants. Eisenhower silently came up beside him and sat down almost as though he were at attention. He could see the driver and his helper looking in the side mirrors. By their looks and quick movements, as they jumped back into their seats, they knew they had woken up the wrong neighbor at the crack of dawn.

Jeremy Webster barreled through the screened door. Not stepping on a single step, he launched himself forward from the porch to the sidewalk. All Jeremy knew was that his prized possessions had finally arrived from Arizona. He had gone more than a week without his electronic games and computer and he was going through withdrawals. At 17 years old, electronics are a guy’s life. If he couldn’t connect with his friends on a minute to minute basis, life would cease to exist as he knew it. The gangly, clean-cut teenager didn’t have any muscles and unless the wireless signal from his Dad’s router went outside the house, he never saw the light of day.

Jeremy had made a deal with his Dad the night before when they finally pulled into the driveway of their new home. The deal was that they would both help the movers bring all of the boxes and furniture into the house before a single box was opened. There would be time for the contents of the boxes to find a new place within the rural two story house in Karapoo, Ohio.

When Jeremy found the one page Karapoo Chamber of Commerce website on the internet it showed that the population was 2,743. This little township was 30 minutes outside of Cleveland, which was a perfect location for Jeremy’s Dad’s new job.

William Webster had recently been promoted within his firm to manage the Cleveland office. Not the most convenient for Jeremy since William currently had sole custody. William didn’t need to consult his ex-wife, Margaret, on the move. Margaret was being held without bond on drug charges and the job opportunity came up at the perfect time to get Jeremy out of Arizona.

Jeremy was a smaller version of his Dad. His blond hair was clean-cut but a mess. He looked like a hurricane paused over his head and sat and spun everything in one direction. The messed up look was apparently the style of the moment. Jeremy also sported baggy pants with his underwear visible above the belt line. No matter how many times William threatened to embarrass him, that was the style and Jeremy was sticking to it. With Margaret’s crack problem and the move, William didn’t want Jeremy any more upset than he already was, so he let the pants and hair thing slide for now. William hoped that once school started he would see that things were different in Ohio.

Jeremy’s windblown blond hair emphasized his sapphire blue eyes. His complexion could be tan, if he ever saw the sun, but right now it was a slight olive color. Margaret’s heritage was coming through. Thank goodness that was the only trait Jeremy got from her. Until recently Jeremy hadn’t found any sport he liked so his limbs were scrawny and limp. A strong wind could blow him over if he didn’t have his size 12 feet planted firmly on the ground. The only thing that Jeremy could do was run and jump. When Jeremy saw a show that highlighted a new sport called Parkour, where a crazy man jumped and flew through the air, it sparked his interest in trying the sport. After only a few short weeks, Jeremy sensed that a little muscle would be helpful if he was going to take this seriously, so he began working on building muscle. So far Jeremy hadn’t encountered any broken bones or strains to speak of; simply skinned knees, bumps, and bruises.

William was skinny as well, but his appearance was very deceiving. William looked like a taller Radar O’Reilly from MASH. He had the same boyish face and wore wire rimmed, professional looking glasses. William had learned when he was younger that he needed speed and strength to keep from getting his ass-kicked. So he worked on lean muscle, not the bulky muscle seen on power lifters. Bullies didn’t see him coming when they picked on him for being a nerd. He was a bookworm during the day, and did push-ups and chin-ups at night. With blond hair and business suits he looked the part of a manager of the marketing office in Cleveland where he worked.

Jeremy, wait for the truck to come to a complete stop before you start harassing the movers. William said, from the small porch as he slowly walked towards the truck with orange juice in one hand and a banana in the other. Looking up the street he saw the military stance of an older gentlemen glaring at his son and the moving truck. Good morning, neighbor, William called, hoping to break the tension from down the street. William thought to himself as he finished his breakfast, that Sergeant, there, didn’t seem to be having the greatest of mornings. William’s greeting was met with no response as Richard turned and went back to his now cold coffee.

I know we had a deal about unloading before I start unpacking, BUT! COME ON DAD! I need to see what my friends are doing in Phoenix, Jeremy said with emphasis as he walked around the back of the truck to the overhead door.

No, Sir. We had a deal. Once you get on the computer you will be useless the rest of the day. This way, you will be motivated to get everything inside. Listen, we have five people working on this, it shouldn’t take any time at all, William said as he waited on the movers.

Jeremy was pacing back and forth thinking this would hurry the three movers along. He was sadly mistaken. If anything it slowed them down. They slowly crept down from the cab and gazed at the ground as they made their way to the back of the truck.

While we start unloading, please take Fred out in the backyard. I fed him just before the truck arrived and I know he needs to do his business. William said over his shoulder to Jeremy.

Jeremy was inside in a flash allowing the screen door to slam behind him. William grimaced, knowing this would be the first repair he would have to make this week.

Fred, come on boy. Jeremy called as he went back inside. Fred was the latest addition to the family. Jeremy had found him in the alley in Tempe about a week before they were to head to Ohio. He was the oddest looking dog you could imagine. The white almost albino dog looked like something out of the Twilight Zone. The hound dog looked so lazy that he could probably eat while lying down. His color is what made him look so weird. Fred looked like he was just out of puppyhood, even though he acted ancient. When William took him to the veterinarian’s office to get checked out they were surprised by Fred. They had never seen anything like him, but gave him a clean bill of health.