Try Not To Forget

By JL Sterling

Rick Logan was a long time rock and roll star or more of a twinkle at this stage in his career. His venues may have diminished, but his dedication and enthusiasm were still as strong as ever. He had just finished a gig in a casino in Tennessee and was on his way to North Carolina in a borrowed 1964 Ferrari 250 LM, when he had a run in with the local law. He was sentenced to thirty days of community service and became a ward of the Mountain Pines Nursing Home.

Evelyn Burton was the director of the Mountain Pines Nursing Home Alzheimer\'s Facility. She was very excited about having an in-house rock star to perform and help with the production of her annual Christmas Pageant. It was her recommendation that Rick Logan be placed under her supervision.

Rita Beckwith was Evelyn\'s head nurse. She did not share Evelyn\'s optimism nor her enthusiasm. Actually, she thought Evelyn was delusional. She failed to see how an egomaniac with no concept of Alzheimer\'s or Dementia could be anything but a disaster. She was quite sure Evelyn could not rehabilitate Rick Logan and found the whole thing very menacing.

Everything in this story actually happened.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798891303355

Book preview

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Try Not To Forget

JL Sterling

ISBN 979-8-89130-334-8 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89130-335-5 (digital)

Copyright © 2024 by JL Sterling

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

To Marjorie Jean Echols, one of the six that were poisoned

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

About the Author

To Marjorie Jean Echols, one of the six that were poisoned

Chapter 1

The courtroom was full of spectators and local reporters. Rick Logan was hoping they were not there for his court date with Judge Lawrence Burton, but they were. Rick shut the door and stepped back into the waiting area.

You sure everything is taken care of? His attorney, Michael Spencer, was on his cell phone. He waved his hand around his head and ended the wave with an okay sign that afforded Rick little to no peace of mind. He could tell by the look on Rick's face that he was not satisfied with his answer as it was. He shut his phone and pulled Rick closer to his side so the only person around—a well-dressed, well-coifed lady of age—could not overhear. Ricky, you're Rick Logan. This is a one-horse town in Eastern Tennessee. This Judge Burton fellow presides over weddings and reads wills and settles the occasional squabble over whose moonshine is whose. It's all taken care of. He is accustomed to dispensing hillbilly justice to a bunch of backwoods hillbillies. It will be a slap on the wrist. Don't worry about it. We will be back in LA by tonight.

Rick and Michael noticed the eavesdropper smiling and shaking her head as she walked away.

Michael flipped his head in her direction and said, I guess they're not all hillbillies.

Court was called to session by Earl Jenkins, a very pleasant Black man in his early sixties. He had been the bailiff in this court for this judge for more than twenty years and was still as crisp as the first time he announced Judge Lawrence Burton.

Judge Burton was sixty-three years of age but looked considerably younger. His love for the outdoors showed in his easy manner as well as his burnished tan. He was a handsome man in a nondescript sort of way as well as a good man. He was very well respected not only in his community but also throughout the state. He had a reputation of being a fair judge—firm but fair.

He was reviewing the charges against Rick Logan while rubbing his chin with the back of his left hand. He laid the case file on his desk and asked the defendant to please rise. Mr. Logan, you have entered a plea of guilty to the charge of reckless driving. I see a few other charges were dropped in exchange for your plea. Quite a few other charges. Is there any particular reason you brought this irresponsible behavior to this little one-horse Eastern Tennessee town?

Rick and Michael looked at each other with nervous surprise.

A gig, Rick replied.

Judge Burton tilted his head slightly as if to accentuate his next question. Did you say ‘a gig'?

Yeah, a gig, a concert. You know, music.

Judge Burton straightened upright in his chair. Mr. Spencer, please ask your client to address me and this court with some respect, you know, something like ‘Yes, sir and No, sir. Or I will be forced to hold you both in contempt of court."

Yes, sir. We respectfully apologize to the court. Rick's entire visage was one of disdain. Sorry. I was here for a concert at the casino. I have a band and—

The judge cut him off. "Yes, Mr. Logan, this court is aware you are a rock-and-roll star of some sort. But that does not, in and of itself, excuse you from responsible behavior. Nor should it encourage irresponsible behavior. I have given this matter a lot of careful thought. A fine would be in order, but the maximum amount allowed by law is only twenty-five thousand dollars. And I dare say that would hardly put a dent in your pocketbook, much less deter you from ever getting behind the wheel of a five-hundred-horsepower GT and driving ninety-six miles an hour in a thirty-five-mile-an-hour zone.

"No, sir, I don't think pecuniam is our answer here. Nor do I think it would benefit you or the state of Tennessee by serving time in one of our fine correctional facilities. Mr. Rick Logan, I hereby sentence you to thirty days in Mountain Pines Alzheimer's Retirement Village. You will report on Monday morning at 8:00 am sharp to the director of Mountain Pines. Her name is Evelyn, and she will be expecting you. Judge Burton held up the manila folder. Mr. Spencer, you will make sure your client follows these instructions to the letter. Any questions so far?"

Rick barked out, Yeah—I mean, yes, sir. What the hell am I going to do at a retirement home full of old geezers with Alzheimer's?

Michael Spencer grabbed Rick by the arm and whispered something in his ear.

Judge Burton smiled and replied, Well, let us take a look. He opened the file folder and held up the first page. As I stated, you will report to Evelyn on Monday morning at 8:00 am sharp. You will reside at Mountain Pines, in a room assigned to you by Evelyn. You will not leave the premises for any reason whatsoever unless approved by Evelyn. You will not have any visitors other than Mr. Spencer. You will not smoke, drink any alcohol, use your cell phone, or in any way communicate with anyone that does not work or reside at Mountain Pines. Basically, you will do anything and everything the director asks you to do when she asks you to do it. He put the papers back into the file folder and laid the folder on his desk. Mr. Spencer will be issued a copy of the entire sentence. Any violations or infractions of the rules will result in an extension of your sentence, one day per infraction no matter how small.

Michael Spencer raised his hand as he spoke, Permission to approach the bench, Your Honor.

Judge Burton smiled a broad smile. This is a small courtroom, Mr. Spencer. You are only fifteen feet away. The bench may be getting a little long in the tooth, but it can hear you just fine.

Apparently, Your Honor does not realize that my client has a preset schedule. He has at least eight shows to perform in the next thirty days. At one hundred and twenty-five thousand plus per show, he stands to lose a considerable amount of money. And then there is the huge issue of fans, ticket sales, and all that goes along with the entertainment business. If you must insist on this type of sentence, perhaps we could reschedule for a more user-friendly time slot.

Judge Burton looked around the courtroom for a long moment. He stared Mr. Spencer directly in the eyes as he leaned out over his bench. I'll make you a more user-friendly deal, Mr. Spencer. What say Mr. Logan spends thirty-five days in Mountain Pines, and we will add five days for every argumentative remark you make? How does that sound?

Rick Logan yelled out of pure terror, Now hold on, Judge! I'm not going to—

Judge Burton's gavel slammed down hard. Not another word out of either one of you. Please. Thirty-five days in Mountain Pines is your current sentence. You will report as ordered. I do hope this slap on the wrist is not too much ‘backwoods hillbilly' justice for you. He gingerly tapped his gavel, and Earl Jenkins closed the session.

Chapter 2

Rick looked at his watch. It was 8:15 am. He was sitting in the parking lot of Mountain Pines Retirement Village with Robby Chase, his longtime friend and road manager. Robby was no stranger to being there for Rick during his times of need. This wasn't Rick's first run-in with the law.

Robby took a long drag on his Marlboro Light and tossed it out the window into the shrubs. Well, buddy, see you in thirty-five days.

Rick laughed out loud. Thirty-five days? Try tomorrow night. Meet me at nine up behind those dumpsters. Bring a couple of beers with you. I'm pretty sure I'll need one by then.

They both laughed and said their goodbyes.

*****

Rita was getting her meds ready to make her morning rounds. She was fully aware of the Rick Logan saga and knew it was him walking in the front door. Good morning, Mr. Logan. I see you're a bit tardy on your first day.

Rick could be as friendly and charming as anyone could be. He looked at her name badge. Hello, Rita Beckwith, head nurse. You got anything for me on that cart?

Rita smiled. Not yet, Mr. Logan. You looking for Evelyn?

Yes, ma'am, I believe I am.

Rita showed Rick to the director's office.

Evelyn was sitting at her desk, sorting through a stack of papers at least a foot high. She spoke without looking up. Good morning, Mr. Logan. I see you chose to be very tardy on your first day. That is not a good sign of things to come.

"Good morning, Evelyn. Actually, I did not choose to be late. My flight did not arrive on time, and we just got here.