Chapter 4: So That is How You Want To Play It

Rose filed a counterclaim to the divorce on the grounds of adultery and extreme cruelty. She had Andrea served during school, just as Andrea had me served. Being served at the elementary school had been humiliating; the students, as well as the school’s staff, witnessed it.

Along with the divorce petition, Andrea found herself led out of the classroom by uniformed police officers a few days later, and whisked to police headquarters downtown for questioning about her relationship with Ramos. The school informed her that she was suspended without pay while under investigation for criminal activity. She was not allowed to be on school property or have contact with her students or other educators at the school.

I thought, “You go, Rose, bring that hammer down.” I kept quiet, of course, and didn’t make any public comments about the ongoing investigation involving Andrea.

I received calls from the local press seeking comment about Andrea being investigated for suspected criminal activity. My response to their inquiries was that Andrea and I were separated, and I wasn’t privy to that information. I referred them to her attorney as I wasn’t in direct communication with her.

I also had to move twice because the press followed me to wherever I was staying and made a nuisance of themselves while trying to get a comment from me. The hotel managers were understanding, but politely asked me to relocate as the press attention was affecting their business. I couldn’t fault them, and I complied.

I even went so far as to park my car in Rose’s office parking lot and rent a different vehicle to drive from time to time. That strategy worked for a while, but I eventually had to abandon it when the reporters caught on.

I rode a motorcycle during my college days, until Andrea and my mother ganged up on me and nagged me into giving it up. I reasoned that I could maintain total anonymity by wearing a full-face helmet, at least until Andrea’s questioning by the police became last week’s news, which made riding a bike a reasonable alternative.

I woke before dawn that Saturday morning and was able to slip away from the hotel undetected. I drove through town and onto the interstate, leaving the community where I lived and worked behind. I found myself in a city more than a hundred miles away by noon, and pulled off the interstate to fill the tank up and grab something to eat before heading back. It felt good to get away from Crazytown and find some peace, no matter how fleeting.

I noticed a Honda Powersports dealership next door to the gas station where I was filling up the rental car. I went next door to kill some time after fueling up, I walked out of the dealership two hours later, with a full-face helmet and a well-maintained used motorcycle waiting for me in the parking lot.

I waited for the rental agency to pick up their car, and I was free to go once they did.

Anxious to get going, I headed back in the direction I had come from. I drove slowly at first, carefully trying to regain the skills that I once had. It didn’t take long to get them back.

I stuck to back roads since I didn’t feel secure enough in my abilities to jump back onto the interstate just yet. Besides, I wanted to enjoy the sensation of being on the open road, not enclosed in a steel cage.

I had been riding for several hours when I realized that there was no way I would be back before nightfall. Feeling uncertain about my ability to ride after dark, I decided to stop at a small mom-and-pop motel in a town about halfway home and call it a day.

I headed to a nearby bar after securing a room for the night, and enjoyed a hearty supper of typical tavern fare, which that night’s meal consisted of buffalo wings, breaded cheese sticks, fries, and coleslaw. It wasn’t the best, but it was cheap and filling. I hoped to find someplace better for breakfast the next morning. I turned off the TV after watching a rerun of a show I’d seen earlier that week, and fell asleep before 10 PM.

I woke up before sunrise after a restful night’s sleep the next morning. I hadn’t even gotten up in the middle of the night to use the restroom; that was rare for me, and I wasn’t complaining.

I lay there for a few quiet minutes, listening to the hum of the A/C and the distant sound of a car passing on the highway. There were no reporters, no questions, no tension, just stillness.

I decided to take a shower and get going since it was only 6 AM. I decided it was time for breakfast after showering and dressing in the clothes that I had worn the day before, and to begin the trip back to the hotel where I was staying once the sun was up. I looked at the brochure on the desk and saw that a breakfast spot was nearby, no more than a couple of blocks away.

I reached the coffee shop in less than five minutes and enjoyed an inexpensive, yet tasty, breakfast of waffles, sausage, and juice. It was a steal for the price. I paid the bill, left a tip, and headed back to the motel just as the sun began to rise.

I checked out, promising the desk clerk that I would return someday, having enjoyed my stay in town. Whether or not I actually would was another matter, but it felt good to say it.

The rest of my trip was uneventful. I was even able to walk back to my room undisturbed, something that I hadn’t been able to do in weeks.

I remembered that I had left my phone on its charger and hadn’t taken it with me after closing the door behind me. I picked it up and checked for missed calls and messages. The screen showed twenty missed calls and nearly fifty texts. About forty remained after deleted the spam.