Buried Memories (10 page)

Even though Jimmy Don rarely saw his son, Jamie, he felt obligated to tell him that he was about to acquire a new stepmother.

Twenty-five-year-old Jamie Beets had married a pretty little blonde with wavy hair, perfect skin, and eyes spaced wide apart that turned up at the outer edges with a laughing, elfin tilt. She liked wearing snug-fitting blue jeans that complimented her petite figure.

Much to his father’s chagrin, Jamie’s hair flowed around his handsome face and well past his collar. His mustache connected to a goatee. The couple had given Jimmy Don two grandchildren, whom he loved very much. He would admit to anyone that they were the main reasons he stayed in contact with his son. During the times his son had experimented with drugs, he had trouble keeping a job. Jimmy Don worried that during those times, his grandchildren would go without life’s necessities, so he provided them with money to tide them over.

Betty accompanied Jimmy Don to his son’s apartment. Immediately Jamie’s posture straightened and he eyed Betty suspiciously. The more Betty and Jimmy Don talked about their life together, the more distant Jamie became.

However, Jamie saved his words for the next visit when his father came alone. At that time, Jamie stiffened again and said, “I can’t stand her, Dad. She a manipulative, self-centered bitch.”

Jamie’s words shocked Jimmy Don. “But I love her, Jamie. And I’m going to marry her.”

After Jimmy Don heard the tale of Betty’s previous husband, Wayne Barker, running off one night, he said, “Betty, I just can’t understand why any man would do that to you. Especially you. It’d be the last of my thoughts.”

“He drank an awful lot,” Betty replied. “So there were many arguments. After he stayed gone a while, I filed for divorce and charged him with desertion. He didn’t contest.”

On August 19, 1982, Betty Lou Barker and Jimmy Don Beets went to the courthouse in Kaufman, Texas, a small town north of the lake, and said their vows to become husband and wife.

Jimmy Don happily moved into Betty’s trailer. He particularly liked the fact that the back of her property had an inlet connected to the lake. Now he no longer had to count on someone else’s dock, and eagerly tied his boat to a post in his own backyard.

His fire department schedule of three days on, three off gave him a span of days he happily considered a vacation with his new bride.

The ink had scarcely dried on the wedding license when Betty Beets began criticizing Jimmy Don’s generosity toward his son. Once she learned that a couple thousand dollars a year poured into the young man’s pockets, she was determined to stop it.

She convinced her husband to have Jamie visit them in the trailer, and had practically written the script for their meeting.

That night, Jamie walked in, appearing apprehensive and dispirited, as if expecting bad news. Betty knew that he didn’t like her, but she was no friend of his either because he represented competition for Jimmy Don’s resources.

“Son,” Jimmy Don began, “Betty’s convinced me that it’s high time you grew up. You’re twenty-five now and you need to be more responsible, especially since you have a wife and two children to support. I don’t want to hear anymore, ‘Dad, can you loan me a few bucks ’til I can find another job?’ With all your family responsibilities, you need to see to it that you stay employed. No more of this job-hopping.”

Jimmy Don softened his voice. “Betty and I agree that you can live in my lake house, but you’ll have to pay rent and utilities. Understand?”

Jamie nodded numbly, all the time squinting hateful glances at Betty.

“I’ve got to be honest with you, Jamie. The only thing I really want from you is to see my two grandchildren.”

Jimmy Don and Betty became well known in the party circuit at the lake. Much to Betty’s delight, they frequented the clubs in Seven Points as opposed to doing things with his neighbors. Jimmy Don had almost permanently severed that connection when he let his son move into his Glen Oaks house.

One night at the Frontier Club, Betty and Jimmy Don encountered his ex-wife, Suzy, enjoying a night out with her new husband. They pranced over to Suzy’s table and she invited them to sit down. The awkwardness of her ex-husband joining her table melted as the evening progressed. The four of them talked of their lives at the lake as Betty continued sipping several Cokes laced heavily with bourbon. Before long she became very drunk. Betty and Jimmy Don got up to dance and Betty was so dizzy he had to hold her up. Jimmy Don only teased Betty about her condition.

Betty continued drinking and began slurring her words. When her new husband tried to hush her, she said, “Don’t you tell me what to do.”

Jimmy Don’s forehead beaded with perspiration and his faced reddened; obviously embarrassed by the situation. “I’ve got to take my bride home,” he said. “She’s having a little too much fun.”

Suzy watched as he half carried, half dragged Betty out through the doorway. She thought back to when she had been married to Jimmy Don and the times she had drunk too much. He would be disgusted with her and would tell her so. After thinking over the evening, she realized Jimmy Don treated Betty differently because he loved her so much more.

In 1982, Betty and Jimmy Don celebrated their first Christmas together as husband and wife. Jamie avoided them by taking his family to Celina, Texas, where his wife’s mother lived. Everything went smoothly and both families enjoyed the holidays until December 28. On that day, Jamie was still in Celina, and Jimmy Don was in Dallas, manning his shift at the fire station.

Russ and Peggy Leonard saw flames coming from the blue house across the street right before J. R. and Marion Burton did. The ex-neighbors of Jimmy Don called the fire department, then raced across the street. They coughed in the billowing smoke as they looked for a hose. When they found it, they grabbed the hose and turned on the water spigot. To their dismay, they found that someone had shut off the water.

NINE

A little past eight on a spring night in 1983, Freddie Gilbert drove up to Robby Branson’s house in his beat-up green Ford that had one blue fender. He laid on his horn until Betty Beets came to the door.

“You crazy or something making all that noise out there?” Betty hollered from her front porch.

“Sorry, ma’am, I’m just lookin’ for Robby. Is he home?”

Betty frowned, and saying nothing, turned away, but kept the door ajar. Moments later, eighteen-year-old Robby appeared. He had his father’s dark good looks and thick brown wavy hair. He had lived with his father for ten years, and had recently moved back to his mother’s.

“Mom says to quit making that racket. What do you want anyway?”

“How about going for a ride? The swimmin’ pool might be open. We could check it out. Might be some girls there.”

“Then what?”

“What do you think? Do you want me to draw you a fuckin’ picture? We’ll pick up a couple chicks and go get some beer. I don’t know. We’ll do something.”

Robby shrugged and ambled toward Freddie’s car. “Guess so,” he said and opened the door, sitting down on the worn, dirty front seat.

Freddie floored his ancient vehicle until it jumped forward; the tires squealed as he bumped across Robby’s front yard. They drove past the Cherokee Shores swimming pool, but only saw a basin of dirty concrete that contained the muddy remnant of last summer’s water. Ropes still blocked access to the pool. Freddie stopped when he saw a heavy-set young woman strolling past the pool. He rolled down his window and snorted like a pig. Then in a loud, high voice he called, “Sowie, sowie, sooowie!

“Get the hell out of here,” Robby said. “You’re acting like a jerk.”

Freddie put the car in gear and drove on.

Robby asked, “What now?”

“Wish I had a beer,” Freddie said, “but I don’t have any ID. Do you?”

“Not on me. Got a couple cards back at the house.”

“Nah. There’s a faster way.”

“What?” Robbie asked, getting bored and frustrated with the evening.

Freddie cruised down a street that had small lake homes on one side. “I’m looking for one that’s dark.” He drove slowly, then paused in front of a small frame house painted yellow. No lights shined from the windows. “Look there. A boat out on the dock and nobody inside.”

“If you wanted to go for a boat ride, Jimmy Don’s got a boat.”

“I don’t want no boat ride.” He shut off the engine and looked around. “If someone likes boats, he probably likes beer. Don’t you get it?” He gazed up and down the street. “I don’t see anybody, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Inside, where in the hell else? You wanted some beer, didn’t you?”

“You’re fuckin’ out of your mind. You’re going to break in?”

“Do you want beer or don’t you? I thought you had balls. Guess you’re just a wuss.”

“I ain’t no wuss. I just think it’s stupid to break in. What if we get caught?”

“Only dummies get caught. I never have.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“Sure. And no cop’s ever nabbed me. Come on, I’ll show you how.” Freddie grabbed a flashlight from his glove compartment.

It didn’t feel right to Robby, but curious about Freddie’s confidence, he followed him around to the back of the house.

Freddie’s scrawny body was a contrast to Robby’s stocky build, but Freddie had a few inches in height over his friend. He shined his light on the sliding-glass and screen-door combination, then pulled a knife from his pocket and cut a hole in the screen. He slipped his knife into the flimsy lock and snapped it open. They quietly walked into the kitchen. Freddie stuck out his arm to stop Robby for a couple minutes to listen for an alarm system; then they headed toward the refrigerator.

Freddie opened the door and the light lit up the room. They found milk and orange juice, but no beer. They searched through other cabinets, but found no liquor anywhere.

“Damn fucking Baptists,” Freddie murmured. “Let’s look around and see what they have.”

“This is taking too long,” Robby complained. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Hold on a sec. Look over there. Bet those are worth something.” Freddie went to two crossed, silver-sheathed swords that hung above the mantel over the brick fireplace. He reached up and removed them. Handing one to Robby, he raised his sword high in the air, and yelled. “Zorro!”

“That’s it,” Robby said and gave back the sword. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

Freddie followed him out with the swords tucked under his arm. They climbed in the car and drove away. When Freddie dropped Robby off at his house, both swords remained in his car.

The next day, police were at Robby Branson’s front door with an arrest warrant for burglary of a habitation.

“What are you talking about?” Robby asked the officer, trying to buy time to absorb the situation.

“When the owners returned last night,” the officer explained, “they found some expensive swords missing. That’s when they called us. Just happened that the next-door neighbor jotted down your friend’s license plate, and said he saw two suspicious-looking youths leave with the swords.”

“You talked to Freddie?” Robby asked, thinking the police had worked so fast.

“Oh sure. Told us everything. Said it was all your idea and he just drove the car.”

Betty Beets paced back and forth in her small living room.

“Now sit down and tell me again what happened,” Jimmy Don said.

“I’ve explained what the police said a hundred times,” Betty replied. “I don’t know about Freddie. He might have to do some jail time because police found him with the loot. But the hell with Freddie. The police told me if we could make Robby’s bail, he’ll get out until his hearing. Since they found he didn’t take anything and has no prior record, they’ll probably give him probation.”

“Then let’s go get him,” Jimmy Don said.

Betty looked longingly at her husband. “You don’t understand. We’d have to come up with a cool grand just to get him out of jail. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

Jimmy Don stood up and put his arms around her. “Whatever I have is yours. If we have to spend a thousand dollars to get Robby out of jail, we will. He’s never done anything wrong before. He’ll just need to stay away from Freddie what’s-his-name.”

Later that day, Betty and Jimmy Don bailed a contrite Robby out of the Henderson County Jail, and hired an attorney, E. Ray Andrews, to represent him. Betty had frequently run into E. Ray when she worked in the bars.

Betty and Jimmy Don attended Robby’s hearing a month later where the judge gave him six years probation. Legally, Robby now had a criminal record.

Jimmy Don, fastidious and organized, appreciated Betty’s penchant for neatness as well. He wanted to encourage that, so when she suggested he build a storage shed, he listened.

“Sweetie,” she said, “we really could use a place to keep all our stuff. We don’t have anywhere to put your tools. All those things you need for your boat. Just sticking them behind the trailer looks so tacky.”

Jimmy Don caught a glimpse of his fishing gear and boat-repair equipment leaning against the trailer and had to agree.