Return to Graveyard Road

By Melissa F. McClain

RETURN TO GRAVEYARD ROAD

Expect the unexpected. Thats the best rule to follow while traveling Graveard Road. Deceit, treachery, disasters and destruction are imminent. Johnny Royce is dodging these weapons hurled at him like great balls of fire. Their origin? The fiery pits of Hell. They are directed at him by the rulers of darkness that rule this world. Their hope is that a direct hit would derail the divine mission this young man is being led to perform that would lead many up the staircase to Heaven, rescuing many souls that are headed down the highway of destruction and doom.
Johnnys fiance, Cindy Marie senses the role he would play one day in the saving of many misguided souls, but he is oblivious to the calling on his life, for now he finds it hard to keep his eyes open during the sermons at church. He only attends church at the continual pleadings of Cindy Marie. Unknown to him many prayers are petitioned for his salvation.
All the while Johnnys arch rival, Jerry has his own designs on Cindy Marie and will stop at nothing to have his way. After all with Jerrys father the owner of a chain of hotels and very wealthy, Jerry is used to getting his own way.
Johnnys plans are shattered when he is framed for a robbery, finding himself on the run many miles from home. He must prove his innocence, but time is not on his side, the sands of the hourglass of life slipping away. Prison is becoming more of a reality for him with each passing day, his music career now just a fleeting dream.
Sadly out of desperation Johnny turns to drugs and drink just to maintain. Will his cries for mercy be heard or will the death angel strike first to guarantee his reservation through the wide gate that leads down the road to doom and hell fire?
This powerful novel is packed with action, romance, muscle cars and martial arts, the author seeking to entertain while maintaining the message of good over evil. It is a wakeup call, generating the realization that there is still time to change the road you're on. So fasten your seat belt and heed the warning signs for there is no speed limit on Graveyard Road.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481718714

Melissa F. McClain

From a young age the author had an awareness of God, but it wasn’t until much later in life that that awareness became a recommitment to Him. From that recommitment a daily devotion has grown into a mission. The mission is to share God’s love with as many unbelievers as possible in hopes and prayers that somehow this work would touch their spirits and ignite within them the true yearning to know Jesus Christian a very real way. Having grown up in the south, experiencing many disappointments and having many unanswered questions the author has made it their passion to find the answers by daily devotions with Jesus Christ in prayer and studying the Word of God. It is my prayer that you too would find answers to some of your questions within the pages of this work.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The clock radio read 4AM as the music blared loudly to wake Johnny for another long, strenuous day of work at Curd’s feed store. He had been slaving hard there ten hours a day, six days a week since the death of his father. The years following that tragic day had put a heavy burden on him, having to quit school so he could get a job and earn a living. There had been only enough funds in Buck Royce’s bank account to pay for his funeral and the back taxes on the house.

Johnny raised his head to squint at the illuminated read-out on the clock. After wiping the sleep from his eyes he crawled reluctantly from his warm bed and headed for the shower. He discarded his undershorts as he entered the undersized bathroom, the radio still playing, tuned to a local Country station. A familiar tune sparked his attention as he hummed away while fumbling with the knobs to the shower. Finally, getting the temperature to his liking he stepped under the soothing spray.

He was a talented singer and phenomenal guitar player, possessing the gift of playing by ear. Play a tune once or twice and he could play it back as though he’d performed it a hundred times before. His quest was to become a recording artist, not only to realize his own dream, but to fulfill the last wishes of his father. But he never seemed to have much time for his music with his job and his fiancée, Cindy Marie, taking up most of his attention.

His dream seemed far out of reach at this point in his life with the approach of his wedding day in just a couple of months. There were rare occasions though, when he was able to get together with some of the other young local musicians for a jam session. Most times these sessions would turn into full blown free concerts when the blasting amplifiers would alert the local kids that Johnny and friends were playing in his backyard. Townsfolk would start arriving, carting lawn chairs and ice chests of beverages and, as usual all were welcomed to come enjoy the music.

The shower refreshed Johnny as he continued to sing. He used every spare minute he could find to exercise his vocal chords. This he did in the shower, cruising alone in his car, or when he was out in the back of the feed store.

Suddenly the telephone rang and he hopped out of the shower, dripping wet, and headed into the bedroom to answer it. A pleasant smile came to his handsome features as he recognized the sweet, familiar voice of Cindy Marie Baker.

Mornin’ Sugar! she greeted in her enchanting voice. Just thought I’d call and make sure you were up for work.

Saturdays are usually rough on him as he and Cindy always stay out late on Friday nights, which is their night to party as is also the case with most of the local folk. Most enjoy payday on Fridays and show up at the Roadrunner to drink, dance, and gamble. The Roadrunner, the local club, is a huge place with ten pool tables to accommodate the many who come to wager their hard earned cash, which is a local tradition. Johnny was considered by most to be the best player in town and his winnings week after week were a good argument to the fact that this just may be true.

He had done quite well last night, picking up over three hundred dollars with his skill. At least a hundred of those winnings came from his rival, Jerry Appleby. Jerry was always attempting to compete with Johnny in some form or fashion these days. They both were in love with the same woman and although Johnny was engaged to Cindy, Jerry wasn’t about to give up. He had the notion that if he could outdo Johnny he could win Cindy’s attentions. It was a well known fact in Lynsburg though, that Cindy was loyal and devoted to her man, Johnny Royce. Even the fact that Jerry came from a well-to-do family and had wealth to offer her, Cindy cared not.

Johnny answered, Yeah Babe, I’m up. Wish you were here though, to wake me with a kiss every mornin’.

It won’t be long till that’ll be a reality. Do you realize that we’ll be married in just two more months? she giggled at the thought. The time is getting nearer and nearer. I’m so excited! I’m the happiest girl in the whole world!

Yeah, it won’t be long now. I get to thinkin’ the closer we get to the wedding and sometimes I just wish I had more to offer you. It’s gonna be hard to make ends meet on my skimpy paychecks and you deserve better.

Johnny you had better hush your mouth up right now! Being Mrs. Johnny Royce means more to me than all the riches in the world. Money can’t buy love.

I know that Cindy Marie, but I just hope that my financial situation won’t make a difference later on as we get older. You might start thinking you would have been better off marrying Jerry Appleby.

There was a moment of silence before Cindy spoke in an effort to change the subject. Sugar, you know you promised to take me to the drive-in movie tonight. You haven’t forgotten have you?

What, me forget a date with the finest, prettiest girl in Lynsburg? No way!

Flattery will get you everywhere and you know that don’t you? she giggled.

I’ll pick you up around seven okay?

I’ll be ready and waiting Johnny, she spoke in a tender tone, I love you so much.

I love you too Babe. Well I better get a move on if I expect to be at work on time. You know how ole man Curd is about being on time.

Okay Sugar, bye.

Bye Babe.

Johnny made his way back into the bathroom where he finished drying himself. He pulled on a fresh pair of shorts and peered into a mirror at his masculine six foot two inches of lean, rigid muscular physique. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Toting the heavy feed sacks and hay bales at work had developed his once thin, boyish body into that of a devoted bodybuilder. He was proud of the shape he was in, having watched the steady development over the past few years. He realized that what he lacked in the financial department he made up for in his good looks. He smoothed back his semi long black hair, his brilliant blue eyes accenting his tanned complexion.

He turned to the closet and retrieved a pair of jeans and slid into them. As he finished dressing he thought of Cindy Marie. She had grown into quite a beautiful woman. It seemed like just yesterday she was a curly haired tomboy who could out wrestle most of the boys her own age, and play ball just as well, too. On many occasion she hit homerun balls over his head; just one of the boys. But for several years, unknown to him, she had a crush on him. It wasn’t until her transformation into this beautiful girl did he notice her as a female that was trying to win his heart with her newfound feminine charms.

It wasn’t long until he found himself being attracted to her alluring beauty. She had decided that Johnny was the man she had her heart set on and was determined to win his love. Her efforts had finally paid off when he awkwardly asked her for a date. They went out and from that day on they knew they were meant to be together. On occasion Johnny would accompany her to church; a place he really felt out of place. He was never one to put faith in God. Although he wasn’t a believer and had never been saved he went just to please Cindy. She did good to get him into church once a month and even then he slept during the sermon. Pastor Humbard nicknamed Johnny Sleepy, but had hopes of someday seeing Johnny accept the Lord. It seemed unlikely to him though, but the Pastor and half the church congregation kept Johnny’s salvation in constant prayer, because Cindy regularly submitted prayer requests for her man. The church prayer warriors weren’t giving up on him either.

Although Jerry Appleby had different plans in mind for whom she would devote her life to. He felt he held the best hand, a multi figure bank account and promising future as heir to one of the largest motel chains in the country. Sooner or later he felt she would realize that he could give her much more than the man she was now engaged to. All his life he was accustomed to getting his way and this matter would somehow go his way, too. He was determined to make Cindy Marie his wife no matter what he had to do to make this a reality.

Johnny slipped his boots on as his eyes caught the sight of his electric guitar in the stand against the wall next to the amplifier. He felt guilty about not having done much to develop his career as a musician. He would much rather earn a living with his music than slaving at the feed store with nothing to show for his efforts. But he was a long way from the music scene stuck off in the little country town of Lynsburg. Although he could play and sing well, he hadn’t even attempted to write any original songs. He was at a dead-end as far as his music career was concerned. He made his way to the kitchen to put together a quick breakfast consisting of a bowl of cereal and toast with jelly. He gulped down two cups of coffee and popped a multi-vitamin before heading out the front door.

Making his way across the lawn to the driveway he approached his second love; his car. She was a 19’57 Chevy two-door hard-top painted candy apple red with yellow flames painted in an artistic fashion on the hood and front fenders, blowing as though fanning towards the back of the car. The paint job was accented by the name Flamin’ ’57 airbrushed at the bottom of the front fenders. The interior of the street rod was done in rolled and pleated black Naugahyde. She sported a set of shiny chrome Cragar SS mag wheels. Under the hood sat a 600 horsepower 427 cubic inch power-plant, built by Johnny’s father, Buck Rebel. The engine was shifted by a Borg Warner T-10 four speed transmission, and a Hurst inline power shifter.

The car had been passed down from Johnny’s grandfather Jonas Royce, but the engine had been changed out to accommodate the powerful power-plant, needed to elude pursuers as Buck made his runs across the state. It was a known fact that Buck Royce was a runner for bootleggers in the area. His driving skill was equaled by no one and the Flamin’ ’57 was a legend in the county having been involved in many a high speed chase, but always left it’s pursuers in a cloud of dust and boasted uncounted victories over the local law enforcement officers.

Johnny felt honored when he cruised down Main Street on Saturday nights in the Flamin’ ’57 with Cindy Marie sitting by his side. How they would turn heads. Not only was the Flamin’ ’57 the fastest and most beautiful car in town, but he had the prettiest girl sitting by his side to boot.

Johnny jumped in his car and drove off in the direction of the feed store listening to the radio as he drove along. His thoughts wandered as he drove. So much had happened so fast in his young life. His thoughts wandered back several years into the past to the night that would haunt him the rest of his life. He relived the events in his mind’s eye.

Johnny and Buck were at the Roadrunner that night where Buck was playing pool with a couple of strangers. They were playing for ten dollars a game and Buck had already cleaned out the pockets of the biggest stranger who stood by watching his brother lose one game after another. Buck had already won almost five hundred dollars, but the second stranger kept on playing.

Johnny watched his father with enthusiasm, hoping to someday learn to shoot with equaled skill. Buck had been teaching him to play and already he was quite good. Johnny clapped as Buck sunk the eight ball in the intended pocket to win another game.

The stranger turned to the boy with a stern expression. You keep quiet over there boy, snapped the stranger. You make that racket again and I’ll slap ya right off that bar stool. You’re tryin’ to distract me so your pa can take all my money. I can’t concentrate. The stranger guzzled down the last of his beer and staggered to the bar to turn glaring angrily at Buck.

Buck realized the stranger was getting sloppy drunk and was in no shape to win back any of the money he had lost. He glanced at the stranger. Look fella, don’t take it out on the boy. Why don’t we quit for a spell till you sober up some?

You callin’ me a drunk? shouted the second stranger, nodding to his brother who disappeared out the front door of the club.

Look slick, the only way you beat me and my brother out of our money is by cheatin’. That’s right, I’m callin’ you a cheat and I want all or our money back!

Buck scanned the room to see that all attention was on the shouting stranger. He spoke to calm the stranger, attempting to avoid a scene. Look mister, I beat you and your brother fair and square, but beings I don’t believe in leaving a man flat broke I’ll give you enough to get you on your way where ever you’re headed. Buck counted out one hundred dollars and attempted to hand it to the stranger.

The stranger responded to Buck’s offer by slapping the money from his hand. I said I want all my money back slick! Either cough it up or you’re gonna be sorry!

Buck shrugged his shoulders and attempted to walk off. He was a good natured fellow and would do anything to avoid a fight even though he was a powerfully built man, and had quite a reputation as a scrapper. Buck tried to make his way through the crowd when the stranger grabbed him, whirled him around and took a clumsy punch at him. Buck instinctively blocked the punch and drove a heavy blow to the stranger’s jaw, sending him sprawling off his feet and into a heap on the floor.

Hey pool shark! came a loud, angry voice from behind Buck. He turned to see that the first stranger had returned and was holding a double barreled shotgun, which he was pointing threateningly in Buck’s direction. The patrons all scurried for cover. Lookie here pool shark; that was my brother you just punched when he wasn’t lookin’. Now you can help him up and give back all our money like he said.

Seeing no other way around the situation, Buck helped the man up off the floor and handed him the remainder of the cash he had won from them. The second stranger then took a swing, hitting Buck in the nose, bringing forth a spurt of blood. Buck started for the man, but halted at the shout of the first stranger.

Hold it! I’ll blow you away pool shark. Just cause you’re big don’t mean a thing to this equalizer I’m holdin’ on you. Now, get down on your knees and beg our forgiveness for cheatin’ us outa our money and we’ll be on our way, the stranger demanded.

Buck soon began to tire of the game the strangers were playing. He looked at the stranger with a warning glare, You’re messed up mister. I don’t get on my knees for no one. I don’t care if you’re holding a bazooka.

I ain’t playin’ now. I’m gonna blast ya if you don’t do like I say. The gun began to tremble in the stranger’s hands and fear was painted across his face as Buck started across the room in his direction.

Buck paid no heed to the warning as his pride was on the line and this outweighed his common sense. He grabbed the barrels of the shotgun, calling the stranger’s hand when suddenly the gun discharged; BOOM! Buck was hit in the abdomen point-blank with the blast from both barrels. He was knocked backwards off his feet with a powerful jolt. He was stunned as he hit the floor in what seemed like slow motion, the sound echoing in his ears.

Pa! Pa! Johnny rushed to his father’s side. Somebody please help!

The crowd of onlookers was paralyzed by the shock of the event they had just witnessed. Buck gained his senses momentarily and glanced down at the wounds to his midsection. The sight of the gushing blood startled him as he realized that he had been mortally wounded. He pushed Johnny aside, using his mighty strength to climb to his feet. He stumbled over to the first stranger who was standing terror struck, holding the empty gun in his trembling hands. He turned to see that his escape was blocked by several of the biggest patrons standing in front of the door.

Buck stumbled with vengeance glaring in his eyes as he took hold of the shotgun and wrenched it from the stranger’s grip. He reared back and swung the gun by the barrels with all his might. The stock caught the stranger in the head, splintering into pieces as the man dropped to the floor.

The second stranger panicked and rushed the barrier of patrons blocking his escape route. But as he ran by, Buck swung the remaining part of the shotgun and delivered a powerful blow, connecting with the stranger’s jaw, knocking him cold to the floor.

His strength spent, Buck collapsed to the floor in a pool of his own blood. Johnny ran again to his side, sobbing and begging someone to help. Buck loved the boy dearly and grabbed his hand as the life quickly drained from him. Buck struggled, gasping to speak his last words to his son.

"Johnny, it looks like I’m going to check out son. Never thought I’d go this way. Take a lesson from tonight and please don’t throw your life away. Steer clear of strong drink and fast women. You see where gambling got me. I had a dream once, a long time ago. Wanted to be a singer, make it big. Even wrote some songs, but life didn’t turn out for me the way I’d have liked. You never knew it, but I went to jail once for bootleggin’. Your grand daddy had big plans for me. I guess I let him down, drowned my sorrows in a whisky bottle all these years.

You’re all I got left. You’re the last to carry on the family name. Find you a gal and have some sons. I don’t want the family to die with you. I always wanted to play my songs for people and hear the roar of the crowd; had a dream of playing a big concert one day. Maybe you could take up that dream and someday play there for me, even if just once. I taught you to play, at least give it a thought. It would make these last moments easier and I can die with a little peace."

Johnny’s face was streaked with tears and an expression of anguish. Yes Pa, I’ll try to carry out your dreams. But I don’t know what to do.

Just follow your heart. You’re a good musician, I have faith in you. Johnny leaned down and hugged his dad as he breathed his last breath. Johnny took him in his arms, but Buck’s body went limp, his eyes taking on a lifeless stare.

The overpowering realization now rushed through him, that he was alone now. There was no family left to look after him. His mother had died when he was very small. He was too young to comprehend what had happened to her. He was told at the funeral that she had gone to Heaven and that she was in a happier place, being a Christian. But this was his beloved father who had brought him up and taught him all he knew. It was for these reasons that Johnny vowed to carry out his father’s dying wishes.

Johnny snapped out of his daydream as he sat in his car. Bill Curd’s bellowing voice echoed out across the street to the parking lot, alarming Johnny to the fact that he was late to work. Quickly he jumped out and locked the car. He hurried across to the front door of the feed store where Bill Curd stood tapping his foot in extreme agitation.

His boss’s name, when spoken, always brought a twinge of discomfort to Johnny. He didn’t know his exact age, but guessed him to be in his mid-fifties. He always kept his long, curly, gray hair covered with an old straw hat that had appeared to have been sat on more than once. His beady eyes were close set on either side of a bulb of a big red nose, streaked with broken blood vessels.

His face always seemed to wear the expression of sarcasm and most times he smelled of the rank odor of spoiled milk. Thus the name Curd fit him to a tee. Johnny wondered how long it had been since Curd had seen his boots, his enormous beer gut protruding grossly. Johnny joked about it to Cindy Marie.

Johnny pushed past his boss and went immediately to work ignoring the degrading remarks Curd was throwing his way. He worked hard all that morning reflecting on his life as it was at this point and the plans he had for the future.

CHAPTER TWO

Johnny noticed that it was lunch time. He removed his apron and after checking out with Curd, headed down the street to Millie’s Beer Barn and Barbeque. They served the best barbeque in the county and the coldest sodas in town.

As he entered the front door of the café he spotted his old friend Kenny seated at a table reading a letter. Johnny gave the waitress his order then joined his friend at the table. What ya reading Kenny?

Kenny looked up with a welcoming smile, Hey there Johnny. Oh, I’m reading a letter I got today from my cousin Buster. You remember Buster, don’t ya?

Sure, I remember ole Buster. What’s he up to these days?

He’s up to his ears in money is what. He moved to Metro City a while back and got a good job. He’s making three times what I make an hour at my job.

Wow! That’s great!. Wish I could make a living like that.

I’ll say. He says there are all kinds of good payin’ jobs there. He says there are millionaires running around all over town.

Sure sounds exciting compared to Lynsburg, said Johnny, trying to picture the enormous town three states away.

Buster says you can go to a different bar every day and still can’t visit all the bars in Metro City in a year.

Man! The waitress delivered Johnny’s lunch and he wasted no time digging in. What’s Buster doing for a living in Metro City?

He’s a club bouncer, Kenny answered. A gentleman’s club; he kind of protects the dancers there. Hey Johnny, you should get a job like that. You handle yourself pretty good, and think of all the money you’d make.

Yeah, but I’d never get a chance to spend any of that big money.

Why’s that?

Because Cindy Marie would kill me first.

The pair had a good laugh at the thought and then enjoyed their lunch, making conversation. Suddenly Johnny looked up at the clock behind the counter to see that he was five minutes over on his lunch break.

Johnny jumped up, guzzling his second soda. Man!

What’s up Johnny?

"Late! Curd’s going to hit