Dublin, TN

By IRENE E. BECKER

Dean Brennan,  mayor of Dublin, Tennessee, has died after thirty-five years in office, but he's stuck on earth as a ghost due to the many disreputable acts he committed in his lifetime. To most of the public, he had been the intelligent, friendly, fiscally responsible mayor of their town; a good friend, husband and faher. But to some, he was a ruthless blackmailer who preyed on those who needed to keep their own secrets. Dean  must recall or perform six unselfish acts before he can be released. After eighty-five years, you'd think that would be easy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: IRENE E. BECKER
• Release date: Apr 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224323876

Book preview

-1-

In her office at Open Arms Unitarian Church, Pastor Stacey Mullen had just finished a marriage counseling session, mentally reviewing the past hour. She was hopeful that she’d provided appropriate feedback and support to the struggling couple. At least they had come for counseling which was a good first step, she thought to herself. Her old-fashioned telephone rang, jolting her out of her reverie.

This is Pastor Mullen; how may I help you? she answered. 

The voice on the phone said, Pastor, you probably don’t remember me, but my name is Matthew Boyd. I used to live in Covington, Louisiana, where you counseled me.

Casting her memory back for Matthew Boyd, her mind conjured up a young teenager she had counseled at his mother’s anxious request. The boy had been getting into trouble for years, his mother said, but she wasn’t about to give up on him. The new pastor spent many hours with Matthew, a stubborn know-it-all who listened and participated half-heartedly to her counsel. Although she’d tried hard to get through that tough hide, but his so-called friends were too influential. In the end, when she and her husband moved away to start a Unitarian church in Tennessee, she lost track of the young man.

Yes, Matthew, she replied with a smile, I do remember you. It’s been a long time - how are you?

I won’t lie, Pastor, he said. My life’s been rough. I brought it all on myself, but I've come through it all and become a better person, I hope. 

That’s good to hear, Matthew. I often wondered what happened to you after we left. Where are you now? she asked.

Well, I wanted to get out of Louisiana, so I searched online and found a bookstore for sale in a little place called – ta da! - Dublin, Tennessee. After checking it out, it seemed like a good deal, and I could see that just a few, small changes would improve the business. I’ve been here almost a year and just found out today from a customer that you moved to Dublin from Covington, too, so I thought I’d call and say hello.

The pastor’s face lit up with another smile. What a happy coincidence! I heard the old bookstore had been sold, but I haven’t had an opportunity to visit. We need to get together very soon to catch up, she said with conviction. Oh, Matthew, my secretary is signaling that my next appointment is here, so I have to go. Call me again real soon, okay?

Matthew muttered, Okay, as they hung up. It had been good to hear a voice with the familiar Louisiana patois he missed, but she was obviously a busy woman. Maybe it wasn’t a good time to catch up after all. But he did yearn for a touch of home.

The cowbell jangled at the front door, interrupting his melancholy. Giving himself a mental shake and  donning a smile, Matthew stepped into his bookstore to greet the Wednesday Afternoon Book Club. As the little group gathered at a cluster of overstuffed chairs, chattering as they went, his smile grew wider. He might not have a family, but Boyd’s Books was his baby, and it was healthy and growing.

-2-

Matthew woke early the following morning to take a walk before the bookstore opened. He had been doing this for six months, as his tiny efficiency in the back of the store was claustrophobic. Exercise and fresh air allowed him to think, so as it was a lovely, cool spring morning, he headed for the running track around Dublin Middle School, just a few blocks away. A couple of laps would wake up his brain.

He’d thought up some of his promotions and outreach programs while walking, and recently had been considering building a specialty tea bar. A customer had recently mentioned she would love to sit somewhere with friendly company and have a cup of tea, and the more Matthew thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Of course, money was the question; he didn’t have enough savings yet to remodel part of the bookstore, and no equity built up.

As he got to the track, he began walking faster to raise his heart rate. Halfway around the track, and focused on the tea bar, he didn’t at first see the tall, thin man leaning on the fence smoking a cigarette. But when Matthew recognized the man, he stopped running and stared at the grinning face.

Chaz? Chaz Bernard, is that you? he asked. Matthew’s heart pounded with trepidation.

Heya, Matt, the man said casually, blowing smoke out both sides of his mouth. Yeah, I’m a blast from the past. Didn’t think you’d recognize me after twenty years. Howya doin’?

What are you doing in Dublin? Matthew asked bluntly. He didn’t think he was going to like the answer.

Oh, my uncle called me up here, Chaz answered. He had some business for me.

Who’s your uncle? Matthew asked.

Oh, just the mayor, Dean Brennan. You know him? 

Matthew sucked in a lungful of air. We’ve met. He guessed the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, then. Chaz was trouble he knew; Brennan was trouble he didn’t want to know.

The tall man tossed his cigarette butt to the ground, crushed it with his boot, then grinned again at Matthew. Uncle Dean doesn’t know I’m meeting you, he said. He thinks I went back to Covington yesterday, but I heard about your bookstore, so I thought I’d check in with you before leaving. Talk about the old days.

I don’t want to talk about those days, Chaz, Matthew replied heatedly. I’ve paid my debt to society, and I’m trying to make something of myself now.

You mean runnin’ a rinky-dink bookstore in a rinky-dink town? Chaz laughed. I’m disappointed you set the bar so low.

That’s enough! Matthew said between his teeth. I see you haven’t changed any, but I have. Where's YOUR fancy car, big house, and arm candy? I may not have a lot of cash, but I have a clear conscience and I’m proud of myself now.

Well, ain’t it too bad your folks aren’t alive so they could share in your happiness? was the reply.

Chaz had barely gotten the words out of his mouth before Matthew landed a solid punch to the stomach, knocking the air out of the man and bending him over double.

Don’t talk to me about my parents! Matthew cried out. They were good people who watched their son become a hoodlum because of you! In a way, YOU killed them, you miserable bag of horse manure!

Chaz gathered himself and suddenly stood up, grabbed Matthew by the shirt and spun him around, pinning his arm to his back. Don’t you talk to me like that, ol’ buddy, Chaz said close to Matthew’s ear. I can ruin your reputation here. Then he flung Matthew forward, making him stagger to remain on his feet.

Matthew turned and stared at Chaz. Why are you here? What have I done to you? Did you turn up after all this time just to harass and threaten me for no good reason? Go back to Covington and leave me in peace. 

Chaz straightened himself up, pulled out another cigarette and lit it. After taking a drag, he said, No, I’m not leavin’ yet. I’m here to even the score with you.

What? Matthew asked, confused.

Remember that little gal you ran over, that teenager who was crossing’ the street? Well, she was my cousin – did you know that? The sweetest girl in the world, fourteen years old, just walkin’ across the street after goin’ to the movies with her friends, and you killed her. You hit Cassie and kept going. We didn’t know it was you until the police told Mama the next day. Chaz was shaking with fury, but he didn’t move.

Matthew stood with his head bowed. I ... I didn’t know, Chaz. Nobody told me she was kin to you. Her last name wasn’t Bernard, or I would have ... I’m really sorry ... It was an accident. I haven’t forgiven myself for it and I don’t expect I ever will. I just didn’t want to get caught by the police again.

But you did, Matt, you most certainly did, said Chaz, flinging his cigarette butt to the ground. Serving twenty years in prison ain’t long enough for takin’ the life of an innocent kid.

Matthew fell to his knees, unable to stand. He thought he’d managed to sweep the past under the rug, but here it was again - an ugly scar left from his tormented former life. Chaz stood there looking at him, but instead of making a snide remark, he just turned around and walked away. Even he couldn’t kick a man when he was that far down.

-3-

Thomas Dean Brennan was born in Dublin, TN, on his mamma and daddy’s farm eighty-five years ago. His mother was born Minnie O’Dowd. She and his father, Aloisius Patrick Brennan, or Al, as everyone called him, married young. Minnie was fifteen and Pat was eighteen, but that’s how you did it back then. When you were trying to make a go of a farm, you married young, had many children, and hoped they would take over by the time your name was called. Minnie and Pat had eight children all together. Dean was the second youngest; all his older siblings were gone now. The youngest child, Alma, had gotten married and moved to Louisiana with her new husband.

When Dean was seventeen, he was accepted to the University of Tennessee,  Martin Branch, the only one of his brothers and sisters to go to college. His parents assisted him with expenses because they reckoned his education in the agriculture program could revitalize the farm which had been taking a downward slide for a few years. He learned much at UT, majoring in Agricultural Business, minoring in crop production, passing much of what he learned to his family. When he returned to the farm, his father and the boys still living at home had made a plan of action. But Mother Nature didn’t care about their plan; she gave them the driest, hottest summer and coldest winter the area had experienced in seventy years. They nearly lost the farm.

Needing to be more in control of his future, Dean focused on his major to move on, going to work as a teller for the Dublin branch of a large Tennessee credit union. He eventually worked his way up to financial manager where he analyzed deposits, withdrawals and loans, making himself indispensable.

Dean met his wife, Janet, at a church dance at UT, and they married immediately after graduating college. He’d once told a friend, I knew a good thing when I saw it, and didn’t want someone else to snatch her away from me. Janet became a teacher, and when they moved to Dublin, she taught at Dublin Elementary School for years, eventually becoming its principal until she retired.

They had three children. Greg, the oldest, now ran the family farm. Daughters Faye and Bitsy owned and operated Cut-Ups Salon, a beauty parlor/barbershop with their husbands. There were several grandchildren and a great-grandchild in the Brennan family. Janet would have been proud of their growing family, but she had passed away five years ago, leaving Dean without his wife, best friend, and sounding board. As for Dean, he was proud of his family, but also because he had been elected mayor of Dublin for thirty-five years. He felt he’d done a pretty good job overall. Mostly. Nobody’s perfect.

-4-

Mayor Brennan was exhausted. After working his obligatory four hours, he left City Hall at twelve-thirty and headed for The Chew-Chew Diner for lunch. He was met at the door by Dottie Green; her husband, Bobby, waved from behind the cash register. The place was busy, as usual.

"How are you, Mr.