Two Sided

By KB Manz

Everyone holds a secret and most are harmless, easily forgotten. What happens when secrets lead to committing acts that can never be forgiven?

People can do things at times that are horrible and try to pass them off as not very important. Sometimes they even convince themselves that they did what had to be done and after all, no one will ever find out.
What happens when lies and bad deeds come to the surface?

In this book, three seemingly separate stories all come together at the end, answering most if not all, of the questions that have been asked.

After all, do we really know all there is to know about the people close to us? You might be surprised by the answers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667817187

Book preview

Chapter One

November 25, 1968

The fire started slowly and almost burned itself out several times in the first ten minutes. One little flicker from a match that was tossed through the open window was all that it took. It was a small, intentional movement that would lead to not just death, but also the beginning of a cycle that would take decades to undo, if ever.

Well, it actually took an entire box of matches to light this fuse. It sounded better saying that it was so very simple. Is life ever that way though? The watcher wanted it to be. It’s not like there was ever going to be an opportunity to share this moment. Anyway, after lighting one match after the other and almost giving up, there was a whoosh as it caught and then the fire started so very quickly that the watcher had to jump backwards to get out of the way. It was cold outside, cold enough that the watcher wrapped the cloak more closely to her body, watching, waiting, and shivering. Her green eyes narrowed when it appeared that the fire might go out yet again. She even took one-step forward, then hastily jumped back when it became clear that the fire had caught and would do the job. Pleased, she took two more steps back in order to watch.

There were people inside, yet not one of them raised a hand to stop the beginnings of what would soon become their demise. Perhaps if the people inside had not been knocked to the floor, they might have stood a chance to escape.

They were doomed the second that they crossed the threshold into the room where the fire started its hungry, gluttonous, destructive path. Though they still breathed, what they inhaled was no longer fresh air, but noxious fumes. These fumes would cut off their oxygen so that they would soon die here. Even if they managed to open their eyes, their brains would find it difficult to process what was happening, and they would be unable to escape.

The locked doors would have helped keep them inside. The only open window required that they step through the fire to crawl onto the top of the kitchen sink, and then push through the small opening. From there, they would have to make their way around to the front of the house before they could summon any help.

Anyone who might stumble across the ruined remains would search in vain for the small brick that had hit each person in the back of the head. Even now, that damning piece of evidence was sitting comfortably in the front left side pocket of the cloak that the watcher wore. No chances were being taken. It wasn’t enough to knock them out and start a fire; she had to remain until she was sure that the victims were beyond any assistance.

Even here, standing at the foot of the woods, her face could feel the heat. Staring at the flames as they grew higher and higher was almost euphoric. While watching, she more fully understood why people were so addicted to setting fires; and was tempted to stay, until all was reduced to ashes.

The watcher did not intend to remain until the final moment. The plan was to be long gone before then. A sign was needed that it was time to leave, to move on.

What could now be seen was the large flare as the entire back of what had been the kitchen burst unchecked out and upwards. The watcher’s patience had been rewarded.

She knew that it wasn’t safe to remain, yet the fire was entrancing, engaging interest for far longer than was reasonably safe. Only when the back door fell with a loud, thunderous crash, did she turn to leave.

The job here was complete. As if another reminder was needed, there was the sound of sirens in the distance.

The hour was early and someone else was up. The watcher ran into the woods, and pushed through dangling branches along the path.

Going the long way ate up valuable time, but was necessary to stay out of sight. It was important not to be seen and not to have to answer difficult questions that would best be left unanswered. The back road was where the car was waiting. The sirens were getting closer now, and the watcher needed to be long gone. As luck would have it, by the time she hit the highway, the first fire engine pulled up in front of what was left of the once two-story house.

………………

If Pete Reynolds’ back weren’t hurting him, the house would have been a collection of timber before it was discovered. Instead, his inability to rest brought him to his feet and downstairs to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Grabbing two aspirin, he slowly walked into the kitchen, filling a glass with cold water from the sink, which helped him gulp down the pills. Straightening upwards, his quick glance out the window made him blink and blink again.

What the…?

Not wanting to disturb the slumber of his wife, Edith, he moved quickly, wincing at every step, to the phone to call the operator.

Yes, this is Peter Reynolds out on Henderson. I want to report a house fire. Yeah, I don’t know the exact address but it’s the Pritchard house, the one set back from the road. You can’t miss it.

He hung up, and wrapping his bathrobe around his waist, waddled outside in his bare feet, to stand on the back porch, watching.

It was there that Edith found him a half hour later. She had a bad dream and when she didn’t find Pete in bed next to her, she went downstairs to investigate. It took several minutes before she spotted him outside, barefoot. Thinking to scold him, she grabbed a coat and slipped her own feet into a snug pair of red boots, grabbing her husband’s pair as she did.

Pete, what…?

She smelled the smoke first and looking up, saw the fire.

Isn’t that the Pritchard house?

Pete just nodded, still watching as the fire trucks arrived. Everyone was moving quickly, trying to put out the fire and find any survivors.

She grabbed his right arm, horrified to be witness to such destruction.

Where are they?

Not willing to wait for his answer, she immediately headed off towards the house and Pete fell in behind, shaking his head at her question. Damned if I know. One of the firefighters went inside about ten minutes ago. He is probably still looking.

Edith called back over her shoulder as she hurried along. They have to be okay, Pete. They have to be. Why, I was just talking with Delaney not more than three days ago. She was all excited that her entire family was coming from Atlanta for Thanksgiving.

By the time Pete and Edith reached the house, they discovered that they were not alone. The neighbors had gathered, one by one, to watch in dismay and frustration as the Pritchard house continued to burn.

There were good times in that house, parties that lasted until the wee hours of the morning, for the Pritchards enjoyed celebrations.

The highlight was the open house that was held the Saturday between Christmas and New Year’s when neighbors, friends, relatives and others came to enjoy themselves.

It was an event greatly anticipated and not just due to the food and drink. People from all occupations attended. There were priests, politicians, teachers, grocery store baggers, fellow committee members, and assorted friends of friends.

As the neighbors watched, there was shock and disbelief that all of it was gone. There was nothing left.

The firefighters did their best, yet they had arrived much too late to stop the fire. They were concentrating their efforts at finding any survivors or at the very worst, bodies.

Edith continued to talk and talk about Jimmy, Delaney and their daughter as they walked closer to where all the neighbors were standing. Then they watched in horror, as the house became a pile of cinders. It had been the envy of the town with the domed ceiling in the living room; the large eat in kitchen, and hardwood floors that gleamed with weekly polishing. There was a cozy deck on the right side where summer cookouts and other parties took center stage.

Pete let out a sigh. His attention was solely on the fire and the vain attempts to contain it. He let Edith continue her rambling while his own thoughts swung back to Jimmy and Delaney. Jimmy Pritchard was one of his best friends since childhood. He and his wife, Delaney were an odd match. Jimmy was built like the linebacker he had been in his previous life, standing at 6’2" and weighing in at 218 lbs.

He could have played professional ball and he might have given it a shot if it weren’t for his wife, Delaney.

Jimmy met Delaney James freshman year when he went to college at Georgia State on a football scholarship. Sweet little Delaney weighed in at 120 and stood at 5’4". With that southern twang of hers, Jimmy was hooked on first sight, and they soon became a match made in heaven. The year after they graduated, they were married, and a daughter arrived five years later.

Instead of pursuing the great game of pro ball, Jimmy went on to become a pharmaceutical representative.

Using the same skills of a linebacker in knowing how to pursue all angles, he became one of the best reps in his company, continually earning bonuses.

One of the many other perks of the job was that of travel. The family was known for their wandering through various towns and states. It would appear as if they had finally settled and then Jimmy would get what he called ‘itchy feet’ and they were on the move again. No one questioned Jimmy’s continual need to move from place to place. If anything, the supervisors considered the moves to be a professional assist that kept Jimmy at the top of his game.

Their two families thought that the arrival of a daughter might be enough incentive to keep Jimmy in one place, yet that didn’t happen until she was heading into high school.

Then and there, Jimmy decided to move back to his home town and settled into life in the slow lane, limiting his wandering ways to that of work, travel and the once a year family vacations.

Pauline Lucille was the pride of her daddy who loved showing her off. She was a very pretty girl, having inherited the green eyes of her father and the combination of brown and blonde hair from each parent. Pauline was also smart and had a degree in accounting from Georgia State, and was now working in Ohio at a local bank.

Once Jimmy and Delaney moved back home to Hamletburg, Pete hoped that would be the last of the constant traveling. Finally, they were setting down roots and actually sticking to one place and one place only. Jimmy appeared to get that wandering out of his system and as for Delaney; she only wanted what Jimmy did.

It made them the perfect couple even if all they had was their one child. Delaney never expressed a desire for more children and Jimmy clearly adored his daughter so all seemed normal with the Pritchard family.

Pete saw a change in his longtime friend yet he remained loyal, telling himself that marriage and kids changed everyone, even the traveling man that Jimmy had become. For one thing, Pete noticed that Jimmy never once talked about any of the other places they had lived. That wasn’t like him.

Jimmy was known as a talker, a teller of tales that made his listeners yearn to be like him, to have traveled the same roads. Yet, from the time the family moved back home, gone were the tales. If anything, Jimmy had become ordinary.

More than once, Pete had tried telling that to Edith, only to have her brush it all aside. After a while, he learned to keep his mouth shut and to accept that his friend was back, even if he wasn’t the same. It wasn’t as if they didn’t hang together. In fact, Pete and Jimmy had last talked a week ago.

Pauline was coming home early for the holidays, taking some added time to help her mother prepare. That meant… Pete turned to Edith, genuine horror in his eyes. Pauline. No, no she can’t be in that house. They’re all safe, Pete. I know this. Edith spoke quickly, as if convincing herself.

Standing with them outside were several other neighbors, gawking at the fire, and talking among themselves.

One of the women broke free from the group and ran towards the front of the house where she was manhandled back out of the way. Jimmy!!! Jimmy!!!!

The men dragging her back had their hands full of a screaming, hysterical woman.

A man stepped out of the crowd, grabbing his wife from the firefighters. I’ve got her. He patted her back as she wrapped her arms around him, now crying, her body shaking against his. Over her head, he spied Pete Reynolds and shook his head.

Women. That’s what Owen Wiggens thought as he continued to pat and try to soothe his wife.

There was no way that anyone could still be living inside. The firefighters hacked and sifted their way through the rubble.

It took days of sifting through the debris to find the three bodies. Two females were in the kitchen, the male was in the living room.

The fire had been ruled accidental, starting in the kitchen. It was decided by the fire marshal that it had begun by a carelessly tossed towel onto the lit stove. Only Edith wondered about this. Delaney was too smart to let such a thing happen. That’s what she told herself and then she told Pete.

Honey, you know how excited Delaney was about having her whole family this year. She probably didn’t notice.

That may be, thought Edith, yet she still felt uneasy about how quickly this entire event was figured out.

Something didn’t sit right with her. It was more than just the mysterious fire. Why was Mary Lou Wiggens so upset about the deaths? As far as anyone knew, Jimmy and Delaney were a loving couple, completely devoted to one another.

Edith thought the same of Mary Lou and Owen. That was before the fire.

The next morning Owen and Mary Lou were spotted driving down the street out of town. Word was that they needed some time away because Mary Lou was shook up.

Edith tried talking about the strangeness of all of this to her family and neighbors, and for the first two days, that’s about all that anyone talked about.

Time moves on though, and soon everyone put the terrible tragedy behind them. Everyone except Edith, that is.

Her friends were getting sick of talking about the fire. As Betty Sharpe said to her neighbor and friend, Millie Hathaway, Why is Edith still talking about that fire? Why it happened more than six months ago. It was a terrible accident and yes, they’re all dead. I still say prayers for each and every one of them and I light candles once a week at church. Isn’t that enough?

Millie nodded and poured more coffee for both of them. Betty might convince herself that she was doing what should be done and maybe she was right, though Millie secretly thought that her friend could get over this shocking event easier than most. She thought that Jimmy Pritchard was a terrible flirt and he never once looked at Betty, though he looked, and even more at me.

Millie absently fluffed her shoulder length brown hair and smiled a little, remembering how he flirted outrageously with her every time they met. He would call her beautiful and she would tease him back, calling him handsome.

Betty frowned, seeing that smile on her friend’s face. You’re still thinking of Jimmy, aren’t you and you a married woman. Why, it’s shocking how that Jimmy carried on.

Millie stopped smiling, remembering where she was. Yes, Jimmy was a flirt but he was gone now and Betty was her friend. She had best remember that as her smile faded. She reached out a hand to pat her friend’s shoulder. "Now, Betty, I know you and Jimmy didn’t get on well and yes, I flirted with the man. That’s all it ever was or would be.

Glenn and Jimmy were friendly too and Glenn didn’t tell me not to talk to Jimmy. Besides, if the flirting bothered Delaney, don’t you think she would have said so?"

Betty took a big swallow of her heavily cream laden coffee before answering. That Delaney never said boo to him and you know it, Millie. I swear, a woman could flirt with her man right in front of her and she’d ignore it. I don’t understand a woman like that.

Millie thought about it for a minute. Well, it’s not like Jimmy and I ever flirted in front of Delaney. That wouldn’t be right and I would never think of hurting her. She was always such a sweet little thing and very active in our church. Why, she and Jimmy were even in the church choir.

The conversation continued much as it did among other friends and all around town. Most of the women flirted with Jimmy and were sad when he died.

They felt sorry for Delaney as well, but it wasn’t the same. She was a small mouse of a woman according to the rest of the women in town and didn’t seem to have made any friends, despite all the overtures made to her. Delaney was known to keep to herself and after a while, people just accepted her for the way she was.

The fire inspector had ruled that the fire was accidental and that was that. With nothing more to add, and no actual scandal, talk died down, and eventually even Edith stopped, keeping her concerns to herself. She’d probably never learn the true answers. It didn’t mean that she was going to give up. It would take some doing but she was never giving up. She owed that much to Jimmy, Delaney, and Pauline.

Chapter Two

I’m pregnant. Mary Lou sat patiently on the couch, watching her husband, Owen, for a sign. She almost gave up when he slowly rose from the chair opposite his wife and walked over to where she sat.

Kneeling, he lifted his right hand and eased it down gently over her belly, then raised his eyes to hers. I hope it’s a girl with pretty blue eyes like her mama’s.

Mary Lou’s own blue eyes filled with tears as she nodded her head. I hope so too, Owen.

She placed both her hands over his and took in a shaky breath. It explains why I’ve vomited up my breakfast every day for the last week and a half.

Frowning, Owen looked at her. You never told me that. Mary Lou just laughed at his expression. I didn’t want to get your hopes up. She paused, not wanting to ask the next question. You are happy about this, aren’t you?

Of course I am. Why would you ask such a question? Women, he thought. You never could tell what one was thinking at any given moment.

Oh, I’m being foolish, I guess. She wiped away her tears and got to her feet.

Owen got up at the same time. Where are you going?

I’m heading to the kitchen to fix us some dinner.

You sit down; I’ll take care of that. After all, you’re carrying our child. You need to take it easy.

They stood where they were, neither one moving until Mary Lou spoke again. Honey, I’m only a few weeks along. I can keep doing things around the house as long as I’m careful. Besides, the doctor says that it’s not good for me to sit around the entire time.

Owen frowned again. Maybe we should get you checked by another doctor.

She shook her head, secretly pleased. We’re good with Dr. Farrell. I trust him, and honey, all the other doctors will tell you the same thing. She reached up to ruffle his hair playfully. You can do the dishes. Mary Lou disappeared into the kitchen and started working on meatloaf, a particular favorite of her husband’s. This was going so well, she thought

.………………..

When Annie Olson showed up at Dr. Farrell’s office for her eight-month checkup, she saw Mary Lou sitting near the back, and instinctively, she took a seat near the front of the room. She did not want to see the other woman that her lover had chosen over her.

It sounded strange to admit it, yet she was feeling jealous of the attention that Mary Lou’s husband heaped on his cheating wife. It didn’t help to hear from nearly everyone around about how Mary Lou was positively glowing.

Annie would occasionally run across Mary Lou in town and she had to admit that the woman looked beautiful. Her blonde hair was shiny, and bouncy, her skin flawless even without makeup, and people, mostly men, turned often to look at her. Annie on the other hand, looked terrible every time she got pregnant. She hoped for a glow or at least to look good while she was carrying, yet all Annie felt was clumsy and achy. Her skin tended to break out, her hair practically dripped oil, and her feet swelled so bad that she could only fit into an old pair of loafers. It wasn’t fair, she thought, every time someone so much as mentioned Mary Lou.

Annie knew that people were looking at her and comparing her to the other woman. She knew that if she met up with Mary Lou today, while she was feeling tired and droopy, she was going to blurt it all out. That baby the whore was carrying was Jimmy’s, sure as sunshine. Annie also knew that if she said anything, anything at all, the townspeople would take Mary Lou’s side.

So she stayed silent and away from Mary Lou, which wasn’t very hard to do. They didn’t have the same friends, they lived far away from each other, and they rarely crossed paths.

Mary Lou, for her part, noticed Annie from where she was seated. She had a pretty good idea what the other woman must