Chapter 3: Start Spreading the News

Pocatello, Idaho

December 19, 2002

The Avanti aircraft belonging to Jake Kingsley (he had been awarded it in the divorce settlement with Laura) touched down neatly at Pocatello Regional at 12:33 PM, an hour and a half after taking off from San Luis Obispo Regional. Jake, in the cockpit, taxied to the general aviation terminal. Aboard with Jake were Celia, Laura, and Caydee, all of them looking forward to a few days of rest, relaxation, and togetherness during the tour’s Christmas break, which had begun two days before after the third of three shows in Dallas, Texas. It was time for the Kingsleys’ traditional Christmas break visit with the Best family. The fact that Laura and Jake were now divorced and Jake was remarried would not intrude on the tradition.

The weather was overcast and cold, with a fair amount of snow on the ground but none currently falling from the sky. The four of them bundled up in heavy jackets, gloves, and winter hats with ear flaps before exiting the plane. They then trudged into the terminal, which was empty except for a lone female employee behind the desk. She had known that the Kingsleys were coming—Jake had reserved hangar space in advance—but she still looked surprised to see them, especially with Laura accompanying. All of Pocatello, like most of the free world, knew that their local girl and Jake Kingsley were now divorced and he was now married to Celia Valdez.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted when Jake walked up to her counter. “I’m Denice. Did you have a nice flight in?”

“We hit some pretty good bumpies coming over the Sierras,” Jake told her. “Other than that, it was okay.”

“Bumpies are badass!” Caydee said excitedly.

“I’m glad someone thinks so, Caydee girl,” Celia said sourly. She still did not enjoy the bumpies in any way, shape, or form, especially not the jaw-rattling ones they had hit today.

“I didn’t even notice them,” said Laura, who had slept through the rough patch, her head bouncing up and down listlessly.

“Anyway,” Jake said, “I’m Jake Kingsley. I reserved a hangar for three days.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Kingsley,” Denice said. “If I could just see your identification?”

Jake pulled out his wallet and removed his California driver’s license and his bottomless credit card. He handed her the ID first and she scrutinized it carefully, more in awe that she was looking at it than out of concern that Jake was not really who he said he was. Finally, she handed it back and asked him if he would like to pay now.

“No time like the present,” he said, handing her the credit card. She ran it and then gave it back with a receipt.

“You’ll be in hangar 211 over on the east side of the complex,” she said. “Do you need a map?”

“Please,” he said. Though he had a detailed airport map on his flight computer, it did not differentiate hangar numbers, just where the hangars were in general.

“What about FBO services?” she asked next.

“Just a couple of rampers to unload for us and push the plane into the hangar.”

She named the price for that. It was very reasonable, though Jake would be expected to tip them. He handed back the credit card and that charge was put on it as well.

“I’ll go grab the rental car while you take care of the plane, Rev,” Celia told him.

“Sounds good,” Jake said. “I’ll meet you back here.”

“Me and Caydee will just stay here where it’s warm,” Laura said.

“Okay,” Jake said. A moment later, he and Celia were both out the door.

“Can I ... uh ... get you anything, Mrs. Kingsley?” Denise asked her carefully, her mind wondering just what the deal was between her and Celia, between her and Jake. “Some water or some coffee?”

“I’m good,” Laura said. “And you can call me Laura. I’m not really Mrs. Kingsley anymore, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“Uh ... yeah, I did hear that,” Denise said, noticing that Laura was still wearing a very large wedding ring. “Did Celia ... uh ... did she call Mr. Kingsley Rev?”

“That’s right,” Laura said. “That’s her nickname for him. It’s kind of cute, isn’t it?”

“Why Rev?” Denise could not help but ask.

“Because he’s an ordained minister,” she said with smile.

“Really?” Denise asked, wide eyed. She seemed to vaguely remember some scandal along those lines from a few years back, but could not remember the details or even if she was thinking about the right celebrity.

“Really,” Laura said. “He can perform weddings and everything ... well ... as long as they take place in Nevada.”

“I see,” Denise said, trying to figure out if Laura Kingsley was screwing with her or not.

Outside, the sound of the Avanti’s engines coming back to life one by one drifted in. Denise got on her phone and called the FBO shack where the rampers and the fuelers hung out. She told them that Jake Kingsley would be heading to hangar 211 and needed them to unload and park the plane inside for him. She was assured that they were on the way.

Meanwhile, Laura Kingsley and her daughter sat down on two of the chairs. Laura reached into her purse and pulled out a granola bar of some sort. She removed it from its package and then broke it in half. She took half while her daughter (what was her name again?) took the other half. They began to munch while they waited.

“Good shit,” the little girl said approvingly.

Her mother did not discipline her for the language. Did not even seem upset by it. “I agree,” she said simply.

What a horrible parent, Denise thought righteously, resisting the urge to shake her head. If my daughter said the S-word out loud, I’d slap her across the face and then wash her mouth out with soap.

The mother and daughter continued to chatter together while they waited. Two more times Denise heard profanity coming from the child’s mouth. One time it was the F-word and the other was another S-word with the word ‘show’ at the end. Neither time did Laura Kingsley even flinch, let alone discourage the behavior. She wondered fleetingly if she should call someone in authority about this (letting a child curse had to be against the law, right?) but then decided the Kingsleys’ rich and famous status would just make such a venture useless. They probably had all manner of judges and lawyers in their pockets.

Celia Valdez was the first one to return. She trudged in out of the cold, making exaggerated shivering and shaking motions. Though Denise enjoyed Celia’s music very much and thought she had one of the most beautiful voices in the world, she had to resist the urge again to roll her eyes. So dramatic! It was only twenty-four degrees outside. Twenty-four was nothing. Two days ago, it had been twelve degrees at this time of day.

The two women talked with each other while they waited for Jake to return. Their interaction was more than amicable. She could see a clear affection between the two of them. How bizarre! An ex-wife and a current wife traveling together? Sitting together? Chatting together like best friends? True, there had been multiple publicity releases that claimed Jake and Laura Kingsley and Celia Valdez and Laura Kingsley remained friends, but everyone assumed that was bullspit. Could it actually be true? Was such a thing even possible? Or was it all just some kind of act they were putting on for their own purpose? And, if so, what might that purpose be?

Jake Kingsley came trudging in about five minutes later. His face was red from the cold but at least he wasn’t being dramatic about it like his wife. “All right,” he told the three females he was traveling with. “Are we ready to hit the road?”

“Fuckin’ A,” his daughter replied.

Jake actually smiled at her. “Well put,” he told her. “Let’s do it.”

They left the terminal building and went back outside where they climbed into a rented Ford Expedition. Jake and Celia sat in the front. Laura and her daughter climbed into the back. A moment later, they were gone.

Now that she had the terminal to herself again, she picked up the phone on her desk and dialed her older sister’s number from memory. She simply had to tell her what she had just witnessed.

The Lancaster was arguably the nicest hotel in Pocatello. It was certainly the most expensive, with suites going for $1100 per night. It was in the heart of downtown and one of the only places in the city, hotel or otherwise, that offered valet service. Jake utilized the service when he arrived, handing over the vehicle and a ten dollar bill to the young gentleman on duty. A bellhop had collected their luggage and he wheeled his cart behind them as they walked through the nearly deserted lobby. December was most definitely not the most popular time to visit Pocatello.

Jake had reserved two suites for them, though they would only actually stay in one. Though they did not generally care what people thought about them and their relationship, there were still lines they would not cross. Letting all of Pocatello know that the four of them were all staying in one suite was one such line. There was a subterfuge that needed to be maintained to some degree, even if it cost $1100 a night to maintain it.

Early check-in was no problem (though it did cost an additional one hundred dollars per suite). The desk clerk was professional with them—she had actually dealt with the Kingsleys before on a previous visit—but the curiosity was plainly in her eyes as she took care of the paperwork and gave them all their key-cards.

The bellhop followed them up to the eighth floor. He distributed the luggage for Laura and Caydee in one suite, the luggage for Jake and Celia in another. Fortunately, the two rooms were right next to each other on the same floor. Jake and Laura each tipped him a five dollar bill for his trouble. He thanked them and retreated back to the lobby, where he would likely sit around the rest of his shift without much to do. That meant very little tip money to supplement his minimum wage hourly rate. It would, however, give him time to gossip about what he had seen and heard while escorting the Kingsleys up.

The four of them gathered in Laura and Caydee’s suite, where they would be staying the night. It was identical to Jake and Celia’s suite, including the view of snow-covered downtown Pocatello, but it was less hassle to move Jake and Celia’s bags over than it was to move over Caydee’s things.

“I’ll give Joey a call,” Laura said, pulling out her cell phone. She had good signal and there were no roaming fees here. She pulled his number from her contacts list and pushed the button.

“Hello?” came Joey’s voice. He apparently still had not joined the 21^st century and gotten caller ID on his phone.

“Hey, Joey,” Laura said. “It’s me. We just got to the hotel and checked in.”

“Glad you made it safe, Little Bit,” Joey said. “Are we still on for dinner?”

“Of course,” she said. “What time do you want us over?”

“Anytime is fine,” Joey said, “but Sarah’s shootin’ for dinner at six. Grace and Chase are already here. Brian and family will be here around five or so.”

“We’ll come over around four,” Laura said. “Is there anything we can bring?”

“Just yourselves,” Joey said. “We got lots of Budweiser and two full packs of Backwoods cigars.”

“Good to know,” Laura said. “See you around four.”

All four of them stripped out of their winter gear leaving it piled in a heap on one of the suite’s tables. Jake and Celia both laid down for a nap while Laura and Caydee, who had had their naps during the flight, watched television in the main room. Laura woke the couple at 3:15. Everyone put their winter gear back on and headed back downstairs.

The valet brought the Expedition to them and Jake drove them across town to the Best house, which was not far from the airport. He did not need to look at a map. Though not intimately familiar with the mean streets of Pocatello, he had made the trip enough to know the way. He parked in the driveway (in the Best family, he had learned, guests always parked in the driveway if it was available). They walked up the recently shoveled walkway and Laura pushed the doorbell button. Joey Best opened the door a few moments later. Standing behind him were Grace, Chase, and Sarah Best.

Hugs and handshakes were exchanged. Declarations were made of how much Caydee had grown since the last time they had seen her. There was a little bit of awkwardness in the reunion when it came time for Celia to greet everyone. Grace and Chase both hugged her and Joey shook her hand, but Sarah seemed a little aloof toward her, staying out of hugging or handshaking range. Still, she was polite to her famous houseguest. She did, after all, realize that Little Bit and Jake still considered themselves married and that Jake’s marriage to Celia was just a sham so she could have a legitimate baby. She did not approve of any of that, but they were not here seeking her approval. They were here seeking her pot roast, which was currently simmering away on the stove.

The awkwardness was really felt when they all sat down to catch up on the latest in each other’s lives. The Kingsleys knew that Grace and Chase knew what the real situation was. The two daughters were both dying to ask about the little construction project they knew to be underway. But Joey and Sarah did not know that Grace and Chase knew the real situation. Everyone in the know about who did and did not know what had to phrase their speech carefully. They tried to stick to neutral subjects such as how the girls were doing in school. Both were thriving. Thanks to Grace’s work on the famous Never Say Never album cover, she was getting all kinds of recruitment interest from high end graphic arts companies in Spokane and Boise to possibly join their firms after she graduated in June.

“That’s great news,” Jake told her, proud of his talented niece. She had definitely come out of her shell since the first time Jake had met her. Back then she had been so shy she could not even speak to him. Now, she chattered on about the friends she had made.

Chase too was doing well in school. She was carrying a 3.9 GPA into her sophomore year at Idaho State and was just starting to get into the core engineering courses. She told them that she was usually the only girl in such classes, a minority status that did not bother her in the least. She had no steady boyfriend and she kept details vague to avoid offending her prudish parents, but she made clear that she was having a good time playing the field.

“So,” Chase suddenly blurted out during a brief break in the conversation, “I hear your tour is going to be in SLC in February.”

Jake nodded. “Yes, we are,” he said.

“I’d really love to go see it,” she said next, “but I totally can’t afford it.”

“Chase!” Sarah said, appalled. After all, Jake was not even married to Little Bit anymore. “You could be a little more subtle.”

Jake simply chuckled. “How many tickets do you need?” he asked her.

“Four?” she asked hopefully.

“I’ll make it happen for you,” Jake promised. “What about you, Gracie? Do you want some tickets too?”

“Yes, please,” she said with a smile. “Two is enough for me.”

“Who are you going to take, Gracie?” asked Joey hopefully. He had confided to Laura once that he was worried about Grace’s seeming lack of interest in boys (during the same conversation he had also confided his worry about Chase’s overactive interest in boys). “Got a boyfriend you want to take?”

“No, just a girlfriend of mine,” she said with a shrug. “From school, you know.”

Joey was clearly disappointed. Laura kept her face expressionless. She knew, after all, why Grace showed little interest in boys. She also suspected that Grace’s use of the word ‘girlfriend’ was likely much more literal than Joey would care for.

“I’ll make it happen,” Jake said. He turned to Joey and Sarah. “What about you two? Do you want to come see the show?”

“No offense, Jake,” said Joey, answering for both he and his wife, “but heavy metal concerts aren’t really our cup of tea.”

“No offense taken,” Jake said truthfully. He had not expected them to take him up on the offer. He did not expect that Brian and Julie would either. They were all of the mindset that there were only two types of music in the world: Country and Western.

Joey broke out the Budweiser from the garage refrigerator. Jake and Laura each accepted a can of the watery, metallic tasting concoction—when in Pocatello, do as the Pocatellons. Celia declined, however and accepted a glass of iced tea instead. Neither Joey nor Sarah thought this odd in any way. Grace and Chase, however, shared a look with each other. They both knew the reason why Celia was now married to Uncle Jake and both had lived with them over a summer and knew that Celia rarely turned down an alcoholic beverage when everyone else was consuming some. Chase literally had to bite her lip to keep from blurting out an enquiry.

Brian, his wife Julie, and their son Everett, now six years old and in first grade, arrived precisely at 5:00 PM. All received hugs from Celia and Laura and Caydee. Jake hugged Julie and shook hands with Brian and Everett. Caydee and Everett then went off to play together. As they departed Jake gave Caydee a little reminder: “Use your normal people words here.”

“I will, Daddy,” she promised. She had been taught that some people—Grandma, Kelvin’s grandma and grampa, and the mom and dad of Gracie and Chase were high on the list—did not appreciate her proper context usage of words like ‘shit’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘asshole’. Those on the list were referred to as normal people.

The pot roast was put on the table at six o’clock. It was served with horseradish, mashed potatoes and homemade gravy, roasted carrots, and, of course, Budweiser from the can. Everything (except the beer) was delicious. Sarah Best knew how to cook (her husband did not, unless it was using the grill, which he was more than fair with). After dinner, the females of the household (even Caydee) gathered up the dishes and disappeared into the kitchen to clean up. Joey and the males put on their winter gear and went out to the firepit in the backyard. The fire was lit and the Backwoods cigars were passed around. Joey poured everyone except Everett a glass of Johnnie Walker Red, neat. It seemed his training on manly drinks from Obie had held.

They talked about manly things for a while. Joey told them that he would be eligible for retirement with full benefits in another two years. Brian talked about his job as a meat cutter for one of the local supermarket chains. He hoped to one day open his own meat market, but that was years in the future. Jake told them some of his tales of the road. Most of them were pretty tame as he did not engage in the type of behavior that he had engaged in during the last Intemperance tour.

“You must me making some pretty good money on this tour considering what your tickets cost,” said Brian.

“We’re doing pretty well,” Jake agreed, not offering any more than that.

Soon, the talk turned to the growing conflict between the United States and Iraq over Saddam Hussein, the alleged weapons of mass destruction he possessed, and his alleged ties to Al Qaeda and the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.

“Seriously, Jake,” Joey said, “you have to be behind this, right? I mean, you almost died that day. The only reason you and Little Bit are still alive is because you decided to take another plane at the last minute.”

“It wasn’t actually the last minute,” Jake said, already uncomfortable with this conversation. He already knew where Joey and family (as well as a good portion of the rest of the United States) stood on this issue, and it was not the same place he stood. “We changed our flight the night before.”

“That’s still too close for comfort, isn’t it?” Joey asked.

“Yeah,” Jake admitted. “I won’t disagree with that statement. I still shudder when I think about it.”

“What if you had been on that flight?” Brian asked. “You think you would have made a difference?”

“Made a difference?” Jake asked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a tough guy,” Brian said. “You know how to fight. Do you think you would have just sat there while those ragheads took over the plane?”

Jake took a sip of his Budweiser. “My understanding is that none of them were actually wearing rags on their heads at the time of the attack,” he said, “but yes, I undoubtedly would have just sat there.”

“Really?” Brian asked. “You wouldn’t have gotten involved? I mean, they only had boxcutters, right? And there were only six of them, right?”

“Only six of them?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrows. “Who do you think I am? Chuck Norris or something?”

“They were ragheads!” Brian insisted.

“Six of them,” Jake said. “Armed with razors. And at that time, if you remember, we were all conditioned by society to behave like sheep aboard an aircraft, to sit down and do what we were told at all times. If that were to happen today, knowing what we now know, or if I had been aboard United 93, where the passengers were aware of their fate, maybe I might have been the one to say, ‘let’s roll’, but on Flight 175, where no one had any idea what was going on?” He shook his head. “I would’ve been strapped into my seat when the plane hit. No doubt about it.”

“That’s some chilling shit,” Joey said.

Jake nodded solemnly. “I am aware of how close to death we came that day. Maybe even closer than the day I got shot. The only reason we were not on 175 is because we’re so hifalutin—as you would say, Joey. There weren’t any first class seats available for that one, so we went with Delta 1989 instead—the only Logan to LAX that morning that was not hijacked. And even then, there was some commotion with a middle eastern guy when we were in the air. He didn’t pull a box cutter or any shit like that, he just refused to get off his phone. Not even once did I consider getting out of my seat to intervene. At the time, it was not my place to do that.”

“I see what you mean,” Brian said, nodding wisely. He had only flown commercial a few times—always to visit his Uncle Jake and back—but he understood the notion that, pre-9/11, you sat your ass in the seat and did what you were told.

“Then you understand why we have to go to war against Iraq?” Joey said, puffing his Backwoods thoughtfully.

Jake decided to stick with honesty in this situation. “No,” he said. “I don’t agree that we have to go to war against Iraq. In fact, I think we’re about to make a huge mistake.”

Joey was a bit incredulous. “You don’t think they’re a threat to the USA? A threat we need to deal with right now?”

“You don’t think Iraq helped Al Qaeda hijack those planes?” added Brian.

“No, to both questions,” Jake said simply. “Now let me ask you two a question. Do you really think the fact that Iraq has the fifth largest oil reserves on the planet does not factor into this push to invade them?”

“Not at all,” Joey said immediately. “Their oil has nothing to do with it.”

“Really?” Jake asked, taking a puff of his own cigar. “What about North Korea?”

“What about them?” Joey asked. “That’s a whole different subject.”

“It really isn’t though,” Jake said. “We got North Korea over there in Asia. A belligerent dictatorship, just like Iraq. They starve their own people. They are very oppressive and very much anti-American. And they’ve been telling us for the past year that they have nuclear weapons now. Telling us! Showing them to us on TV. They’re threatening to have them on ballistic launchers in the next five years. Nuclear weapons are some serious WMDs, right?”

“Uh ... yeah ... right,” Joey said.

“Why aren’t we getting ready to invade them then?” Jake asked simply. “Do they not represent a more serious threat to world peace than Iraq, who we only suspect of having such weapons?”

“North Korea is a whole different ballpark,” Brian said.

“Yes it is,” Jake agreed. “Do you know what the difference is? North Korea does not have any oil reserves. Zero. Not a drop. They have to import all of their oil from places like China, Russia, and ... well ... Iraq. There is nothing there that we want or need, so we let them rattle their sabers at us and just ignore them otherwise because we know that they are no real danger to us. If they try to use one of those nukes on us, we could wipe them off the freakin’ map in less than an hour. They know that too. Iraq is not a real danger to us either, even less a danger than North Korea, yet we’re poised to invade them to ‘protect world peace’. The only real difference is that Iraq has oil and we have a presidential administration that has been mired in the oil industry for decades. Is this not a compelling argument for my position?”

“You’re suggesting that we’re about to invade Iraq just to get our hands on their oil?” Joey asked. “Not because of terrorism, not because they got nukes and poison gas and germ warfare?”

“That is exactly what I am suggesting,” Jake agreed. “We’re using 9/11 as an excuse to conquer a sovereign nation for its resources. The evidence is right before your eyes.”

Joey chuckled and threw his Backwoods into the fire. “Boy, I’ve heard some wild tales in my time, but this one tops ‘em all,” he said, signaling the end of the discussion. “We better get back in the house and see what the womenfolk are up to.”

“You really are a radical, Uncle Jake,” Brian told him, chuckling a little himself. “I don’t think I’ve ever met one besides you.”

“Yeah, I can come up with them, right?” Jake said with a sigh, throwing his own cigar into the fire.

They traipsed back inside and took off their coats, gloves, and hats. They all got fresh cans of Budweiser from the garage refrigerator. Joey spent a moment explaining to the womenfolk—who were now sitting in the living room because the domestic chores had been done—that Jake actually believed the coming war in Iraq was about oil. Julie and Sarah both had a good laugh about that. Laura and Celia did not. Everyone, by silent mutual agreement, moved on to other subjects.

“All right, everyone,” Laura announced about fifteen minutes later, just as Brian and Julie were starting to make remarks about it being time to head on home, “there is something that we want to tell you all.”

“What’s that?” Joey, the patriarch enquired.

Laura looked over at Celia. Celia took a deep breath and announced, “I’m pregnant.”

Chase and Grace both grinned. “That’s awesome!” Chase said, getting up. “Congrats!” She went over and wrapped Celia up in a big hug. Grace followed her over and did the same.

The rest of the Best family was a little more reserved. Again, Joey and Sarah had been told that the reason for Jake and Laura’s divorce had been for Celia to have a legitimate baby, and they had undoubtedly told Brian and Julie this information (though Brian and Julie would likely deny they knew this if asked) but none of them knew that Chase and Grace were well aware of the situation as well. They all assumed that the two college girls needed to be protected from something as scandalous as this.

“That’s good news?” Julie asked carefully.

“Of course it’s good news,” Celia said. “I’m going to be a mother. Isn’t that always good news?”

And, of course, neither of the married Best females could comment too much on this without being guilty of extreme hypocrisy. Both, after all, had conceived their first children out of wedlock.

“Of course,” Sarah said, pulling herself together a bit. “Congratulations.”

“How do you feel about this, Little Bit?” Joey asked his youngest sister.

“I couldn’t be happier,” she said honestly. “You have to know that, right?”

“Uh ... right,” Joey said, glancing at Chase and Grace.

“How far along are you?” Grace asked.

“I just cleared the first trimester today,” Celia said. “I’m due sometime around the Fourth of July. Ultrasound shows a healthy little embryo implanted in the right place, growing normally, size all matched up like it should be. We decided it was time to start telling people about it. You all in this room are the first to hear the news other than the Nerdlys, who guessed on their own.”

This revelation actually got to Sarah. Her face welled up a bit. “We’re very honored,” she told Celia. She then got up, walked across the room, and gave Celia a hug. She then turned to Jake and did the same.

Two days later, the Kingsleys flew out of the bitter cold of Idaho and returned to the much friendlier cold of California’s central coast. It was windy and rainy when they approached, with a ceiling of only eleven hundred feet forcing Jake to use the ILS blindly in order to land. He touched down without issue, though did get a bit wet while parking the aircraft in the hangar. The four of them piled into Jake’s Navigator and drove home.

Elsa had already left on her Christmas vacation trip to Orange County so the house was empty and dark when they arrived. They went around turning on lights and opening blinds and curtains. The rain continued to fall steadily and patter against the west facing windows. The deck was wet, the ocean gray and full of whitecaps. No vessels were visible upon it from the Kingsley house.