Berto's Roses

Berto's Roses

By Ben

Part XXXVII

After awhile I calmed down, wiped my face and set about cleaning up the garden. I hauled out a big plastic trashcan, picked up the palm fronds and other big pieces of plants, and threw them in. The rose petals were stuck everywhere, like a multicolored collage, on the house, the windows of the sunroom, and the wall surrounding the garden. When I looked at it through clear eyes, I finally began to see the beauty of it.

I went and got my camera and took several pictures before the sun started turning the petals brown. This award winning stuff! It was unlikely that something like this would happen again anytime soon. It was one hell of a bad storm and I was really fortunate that there wasn't worse damage. I had lost no glass and the sunroom didn't leak at all.

I finished cleaning up, having swept the rose petals off of everywhere and putting them in the trash can too. I pruned the empty rose hips from the bushes to promote more growth and went into the house. The electricity was still off and the phone wasn't working either.

I checked the refrigerator for food that might spoil. I wanted to cook it first so it wouldn't be wasted. I didn't find much as Manuella had thought ahead and knew the house would be empty for a few days. I cooked myself some lunch. Thank God for propane! I sat down to eat in the cool breeze blowing through the open sunroom windows. My cell phone rang and I ran to answer it. Ricky was calling me from San Augustin.

"Ricky! How are you? I tried to call you from Chicago."

"I am much better, Ben. I have been speaking to Jose in Mexico City and we are going to be okay. He knows I love only him and he and I will be going away for a few days alone when he returns."

"Oh, Ricky, that's wonderful. I am so glad you guys worked things out. You two are so special to me and I hated the thought of you losing each other."

"Gracias, mi amigo. May I speak to him?"

"Huh? He's not here, Ricky. They are supposed to be coming in today."

"No, they were flying back last night. Jose told me that Bob's treatment went very well and that the cancer was all but gone, so they were flying back right away. They are not there?"

"No. I haven't heard from them. Are you sure? The phone and electricity have been off all morning. There was a horrible storm here last night. It would have been impossible for them to come here. They must have landed somewhere else and are going to come in today."

Ricky sounded unsure. "Si, that must be what they have done. They will call you soon. Has the weather cleared?"

"Oh, yeah. It's beautiful here, now. Sunshine and a nice breeze of the gulf."

"Bueno. Jose loves to fly in clear skies. Please have him call me as soon as you hear from him, pora favor?" "I'll do it my friend. I'm so glad you guys worked it all out."

"As am I. My friend. I will see you after Jose and I return from our trip."

"I'll look forward to it. Where are you two going?" I asked. "We are going to Jacksonville to see Jake." I was stunned. I could think of nothing to say. Then the silence was broken by Ricky howling with laughter. I finally got it. He was joking.

"You asshole! What's the matter with you?" I shouted into the cell phone.

"It took awhile for Ricky to recover so that he could talk. "I am sorry Ben. I think your sense of humor is contagious."

"Very funny, Enrique. Maybe I DON'T want to see you when you get back."

"No, do not be like that, Ben. You know I love you."

"I love you, too, you little shithead. I'm going to tickle you until you pee next time I see you." I teased.

Ricky laughed again. "Please have mercy on me. I will see you soon, okay?"

"You better, or I will hunt your hot ass down." I threatened. We rang off and I heard a car coming up outside. I thought perhaps Bob and Jose and Manuella found a ride home from the airstrip. I went to investigate and it turned out to be a small truck which was delivering the art supplies I had shipped from Chicago.

I got the canvases and paints put away in the studio. It was mid-afternoon and I was tired from staying up all night and from working so hard all day. I placed my cell phone on the bedside table so I could find it when Jose or Bob called for me to pick them up at the airstrip.

I lay down, feeling somewhat better because I knew that Ricky and Jose would be okay. Now, I just had to fix my problem with Berto. Maybe Manuella could help me. At least she could give me some advice. I planned to ask her as soon as I could when she came home later in the day.

I awoke with a start, my heart pounding. I had left the radio on in the studio by my bed and when the electricity was off, I had turned the volume to maximum. Power was restored while I slept and the radio was blasting. I grabbed it and turned it down. The salsa music I usually listened to had been interrupted by news, but I didn't have a clue as to what being said. I was going to have to take a Spanish class if I was serious about living in Mexico on a long-term basis.

I listened a little closer and I thought I heard Don Chavez's name. I turned the volume up a little more and then I heard it distinctly. "I wonder what that's all about?" I thought to myself. The broadcaster's voice sounded rather, what? Distressed?

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and went into my bathroom to pee. Still wondering what the newsman had been talking about, I went into the casa and turned off the unnecessary lights that came on when the electricity was turned back on. I made my way up to Bob's office where the only television in the whole house was located. I switched it on and flipped channels until I found a station that was showing news.

There were pictures of the damage the storm had left behind. Many poorly-built homes along the gulf, in the area of Santa Rosalia had been damaged. The scene switched to a map of central Baja California and the western mainland of Mexico. A large red "X" was shown along the coast just to the South of Santa Rosalia. Then a photo of Don Chavez was shown along with inclusive dates. The first one was around fifty or so years ago.

The second date was yesterday's.

All of a sudden, I understood. Those dates signified the life span of Don Chavez. He was dead. That's what the radio announcer had been saying. The Don was a very important man and his death would certainly be newsworthy.

Wait a minute. Ricky wouldn't have been in any mood to kid around if he had just lost his father. That means he didn't know when I talked to him earlier that day. Oh poor Ricky, poor Carla. Poor Jose. They would all be devastated by this. That's when the awful truth and realization hit me.

"Oh, my God!" The words ripped from my tightened thought and I ran for the stairs. "It can't be true. Oh, God, please don't make it be true. It's too awful, I can't do this. Please, God, DON'T DO THIS!" These pleading words kept running through my mind as I ran down to the studio and my cell phone.

I burst through the door and reached for the cell phone. With trembling hands, I was about to punch up Ricky's number when the phone rang. I was so startled that I dropped it on the floor. I quickly scooped it up and punched the talk button. "Hello?"

Ricky's sobbing voice came into my ear. "Ben, oh Ben. It is horrible... Papa ... Jose ...Bob ...Manuella, gone, all gone, Ben..." Ricky's words became unintelligible as his voice broke into racking sobs.

"Oh, God, no ...please ... no..." I joined my grieving friend in mournful tears.

When I was at last able to speak I said. "Ricky are you sure? Do they know for sure?"

"S-s-si, they have checked the flight records, and they were all on the Lear when it went down in the storm. And that lawyer, the black man."

"Mack?" I offered.

"Si, him too."

"Oh. Ricky, Ricky I am so sorry. I would do anything to take this from you, my friend. Shall I come up there? Does Carla know?"

Ricky sniffed. "I have sent the car to the university to pick up Carla and Berto. I will be bringing them to Santa Rosalia."

BERTO! Oh, no, he has lost his mother! The events of the party completely vanished from my brain. Oh, poor, sweet, sensitive Berto. What could I do to help him? Considering how things had been when he left, would he even let me near him?

"Ricky? When are you coming?" I asked into the cell phone.

"As soon as the car returns with Berto and Carla. We should be there shortly after dark." Ricky replied.

"Okay, just please be careful, Ricky. I love you."

"I love you, too, mi amigo. We will be there soon."

Hanging up, a million thoughts raced through my mind. I had to call Nathan. I had to call Bob's daughter. She was a bitch, but she had to be told. I put the cell phone in my pocket and walked, as in a trance, back up to the Bob's office. Only it wasn't his anymore, was it?

I found Bob's day planner and opened it to the phone and address section. I located the number to Mack and Nathan's law firm, picked up the phone and dialed the number. A professional-sounding female voice answered giving the firm's name. I gave my name and asked to speak to Nathan. I was asked to please hold and a few seconds later I was greeted by a cheerful, deep, masculine voice. It was obvious he didn't know what had happened.

"Ben, how are you.?Listen, I want to apologize for my behavior the other day. It always suspected that Mack was messing around with Bob. It was just kind of a shock to walk in and see... well...that..."

"Nathan, something has happened. " I spoke numbly.

Now there was controlled alarm in Nathan's voice as he asked, "What's wrong? What happened? Is it Bob, is the cancer worse?"

"Nathan the plane that Mack and Bob were on crashed last night. There were three other people on board also. Everybody was lost. I am so sorry, Nathan."

"Oh my God!" Nathan exclaimed. "Ben, are you sure? There could be no mistake?" He sounded desperate. I knew just how he felt.

"Enrique Chavez just called me. He lost his father and his partner on the plane. Manuella was on board too." I explained.

"This is horrible. Are you okay?" Nathan asked. "Have you spoken to Berto? That poor kid."

"Ricky is bringing him home tonight. Nathan, do you know anything about Berto's father? Is he alive? Was he divorced from Manuella? Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"Berto's father never stuck around to see his son brought into the world. He left town as soon as Manuella told him she was pregnant. She supported him by cleaning houses and whatever she could do. Bob met her when she was working as a cook in a cantina, shortly before he bought the house. Berto was a small boy then. Bob offered her a job as housekeeper and gave her and Berto a place to live. Before that I believe she was living with her sister."

Now I had a clearer picture. I also realized that Berto now had noone. My heart ached even more for him. "Uh, Nathan, I know that this isn't a good time... you just lost Mack and I'm so sorry ... but, when you are up to it ... I need to know how to deal with the ... estate ... the legal end of things."

"Oh, yeah. I guess so. You know what? I'm going to drive down and we'll hash through everything I have for you in that regard. I have Bob's will and all of his files. I'll bring them down with me. I also have Manuella's will." Nathan offered.

I was taken by surprise. "Really? Are you sure? Nathan I wouldn't want to mess with this right after you have lost Mack."

"Ben, I more or less lost Mack a long time ago. I loved him, but I knew what kind of person he was. I was not under any delusions about him. I'll be fine. I'll miss him. I'll miss Bob, but I want to be there to help you out and to make sure Berto is taken care of. He's going to need you right now and I'll help all I can."

I was growing a whole new respect for this man. "How thoughtful and generous you are, Nathan. Thank you. Please be careful getting here."

"No need for thanks. All I would do is to sit here and be miserable, anyway. Um, what about the ... uh ... remains? "

"I don't know any details right now about all of that." I explained. "The Lear went down off the coast in a storm last night, just South of here and out in the gulf. That's really all I know. Maybe by the time you get here, I'll have more information."

"Okay. I'll be there in the morning. We'll get it all taken care of. " Nathan rang off.

I sat back with a sigh and rubbed my wet eyes. Then I reached for the day planner and looked for Bob's daughter's number. I had no idea what her last name was since she had gotten married, but how many people name Haley could Bob know?

I found the number and reluctantly dialed it. It rang three times and a rather annoyed female voice said "Hello?"

"May I speak to Haley Carson, please?" I said

"Well that all depends. Who are you?" She asked nastily.

I gave her my name and explained that I was a friend of her father and that I was his partner in the bed and breakfast. "I have some rather bad news for you, I'm afraid. Your father died last night."

After a silent few seconds, she asked. "What was it? AIDS or some faggot disease like that? I thought I heard he was sick with something."

I was fuming. I had always disliked this girl. Now I positively hated her. "No, Haley it wasn't AIDS or any other `faggot disease'. He did have stomach cancer, but he was recovering from that very well, thank you. He was killed in a plane crash last night. I'll call you with the more details as soon as I know them. His lawyer is coming tomorrow so I'll have more for you in a day or so."

I hung up the phone. "What a cold, heartless bitch!" I yelled to the room. Bob's room. His office. The scene of his last transgression with Mack the day Nathan left in anger and returned to San Diego. The anger took the place of my disbelief, my pain. I walked downstairs and out through the garden.

I walked to the beach and the anger took over. I was angry at the insensitive bitch that Bob had for a daughter. I was angry at God for allowing this to happen. I was angry at myself for not being able to do a damned thing about it. I was angry at Jose for crashing the plane. I was angry at Don Chavez for allowing them to be placed in such dangerous circumstances. I was angry at Bob and Manuella for dying and leaving me to deal with all of this. I walked forever, looking out at the water, hoping and dreading that I might come upon the crash site. Stupidly, I hoped that I might find them all shaken but alive coming from the quiet surf. Oh, God how I missed them. Even the shiftless Mack. The anger subsided and I became aware of my surroundings.

The sun was setting over the palms and I turned around and headed back toward the casa. I knew Ricky would be there soon, with Carla, and Berto...

I'd like to take an opportunity to thank some of my loyal readers who take the time to write me offering comments, and yes, criticism. Peter, johnj666, jwparrow, Den, Zai, Mark, my special friend Rich and my "horndog" Jim. Thanks so much Guys. Sorry, no sex this time. Much sadness right now, but good things will come from it. The first chapter of "Berto's Roses" was posted over a year ago. I have gotten a lot of messages from readers who seem to be enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it. There's still plenty left to tell. I won't leave things like this, I promise. Please write to me at ben_sc@hotmail.com. If you haven't read any of my other stories, check them out under the "Authors" link. Look for "Lyle Benton".