Soup of the Day 365 - Cover

Soup of the Day 365

by MysteryWriter

Copyright© 2018 by MysteryWriter

Drama Story: the end of the soup series.

Tags: Ma/Fa  

John Allen
Lucy Allen Seabolt / Martin and /Rita
Jerome Morris the director of vocational education for the Cleveland school system
Bobbi James the radio personality
Amos Hardee deputy sheriff
Lori Moore deputy sheriff
Marcus hostage taker
Sara Thomas newspaper writer
Everett Martin the current leader of the Cleveland meetings of Freebird.
Mark and Happy Jones swingers.
Jethro Morris murder victim.
James Western the second murder victim.
Sarah the cousin who sold him his land.
Detective 2nd grade Joyce Mullins
Jay Summers serial killer


After Jay Summers was arraigned he decided to plead out. He went for a diminished capacity plea. He brought up all kinds of shit hoping to walk away from his half a dozen murders. His reasoning was the men he killed were of less value to the community than average people. Therefore he should not be held to the same standards as those who kill valuable humans. He was hoping his value system make him crazy enough to do some time in a mental hospital.

He didn’t really grasp where he was standing trial. The state of Mississippi had a different view of sanity. The test here was if a man was smart enough to put on his clothing, he was smart enough to know right from wrong. At least that was how it seemed to the shrinks who tried to get Summers off. Needless to say he went down for the whole load. He plead guilty to six capitol Murders, so there was no question that he did them. The only question was his degree of liability for the crime.

In the end the court decided to sentence him to death, then commute it to life without parole. He went to the same prison where I spent my time. He might even go on the same tier where I was. My guess was that if he lived, it would be a hard. Life in a maximum security prison, for a man who had preyed on helpless ex-cons, would be a living hell.

Jay Summers life as he had known it was over by the time my the first anniversary of freedom arrived. Not only that, but Lucy had a new boyfriend. One who, like almost everyone else knew nothing of our relationship. We both agreed to never tell a soul. Her kids didn’t know for sure. We had managed to keep it from them for that first year, however I wasn’t sure how much longer we could manage it. Me moving my trailer a few months before had helped keep things quiet. In retrospect it had been a very good idea.

After a year on the outside I should have had more real friends. Most of the people I hung out with were ex-cons, or other people in trouble or just down on their luck. Well with the exception of a few cops of one flavor or another.

All that shit probably prepared me for the decision I made on my first anniversary outside. I decided that I wanted to see the United States. Not on some grand tour, but everyone of them one at a time. Since it was late winter when my anniversary arrived, I decided to begin as far south as possible.

One of the harder things I had to do was tell Lucy that I was leaving. I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be well received, even though leaving was the best thing for her. Her new life had a much better chance to succeed, if I wasn’t around, I knew that. Actually I liked her new boyfriend.

I stopped by her house and explained to her that I had a plan. I promised I would stay in touch. She really didn’t like the idea at all, but after ten minutes of hysterics, she accepted that it was a plan I had spent sometime making. Therefore she wasn’t going to talk me out of it.

I packed the Soul, hooked up my new lightweight trailer containing the Honda trike, and my brand new camping gear. The camping gear was semi primitive, so I didn’t need a whole lot in the way of a campground. Just a place to pitch the tent and a bath house in order to take a shower once in a while.

I spent the first night in a cheap motel on a small state road in Arkansas. On the afternoon of day two I walked into a small dinner attached to the local farmers market in Fort Meyers Florida. I sat down with my wild hair and wearing the clothes which I wore when I left home the day before.

“Hi,” I said the teenage waitress. “What kinds of soup do you have homemade?”

the end of the series.

 
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