Page 15 of Ella’s Data

CHAPTER

NINE

Data

Ella’s been in town for two weeks now, and I’ve noticed that she seems far more relaxed than she was when she first arrived. I manage to see her every day in some way, shape, or form. Hopefully, she hasn’t clued in yet that I may have said I’m okay just being friends, but I’m not. I knew it years ago, and despite the fact that we’ve both gotten some more life experience under our belts, she’s still the one I want beside me for the rest of my life.

Today, I’m at the haunted house working on the two new rooms we decided on in another church session. Thelma came through; she knew of a funeral home, reached out to the owners who were trying to sell their inventory, and the Steel Raiders MC became the proud new owners of a bunch of equipment for our zombie room. And from the Carolinas, where the club went to help Prophet last year, she found a medical clinic that was heavily damaged. Prophet, Psycho, and I drove there and were given free rein to take what we wanted for our haunted house surgical suite. We found a ton of things that we brought back that we’re going to store in the basement for possible future rooms, too, since we plan to revamp things every year to keep it fresh.

“Thank fuck I’m not a prospect any longer,” Psycho says as he looks out the window to the backyard where Colt and Preston are scrubbing down what we brought back from North Carolina. The morgue freezer and embalming table were in good shape, so other than some artistic changes that we’re making, we’re getting those installed.

“Right?” I retort as I add a spring load to one of the freezer doors. “This is going to give someone a fucking heart attack,” I add when I finally get it installed then try it out.

“Let me see,” Psycho demands, coming to stand next to me.

Closing the door, I hit a button and it reopens slowly, creaking the whole time. Then, the sliding tray where a body bag usually lies, comes out. “Okay, so the actor will be inside, and I’ve drilled holes here, here, and here, so they can breathe and also hear what’s going on in the room. When they hear footsteps approach, they’ll hit the button, the door will open and when they slide out fully, they’ll sit up and reach for the attendee.”

“Fuck, we need to double check the waivers. Because I don’t mind scary shit, but if I walked in and saw that, I’d probably pass out, hit my head and end up with a brain bleed or some shit,” Psycho says.

“Dramatic much?” I retort, chuckling. I mean, I can visualize it happening, but don’t expect anyone to actually do it. At his glare, I hold up my hands. “Okay, okay, I’ll check the waivers with our attorney to make sure we protect the club.”

“Realistic,” he sneers. “And we’ve made this pretty fucking real to anyone who has a fear of zombies.”

“Point taken,” I reply. Looking around, I visualize the room with the dim lights, the three actors who’ll be somewhat live action, with the rest of the zombies being ones we build, and smirk. “I suspect we’ll be able to do what we were thinking with the proceeds and also help with the holidays as well.”

“That really helped folks,” Psycho says. “But as a gawky, too-tall-for-his-age teenager who was relentlessly bullied in high school, I’m keen to do something for those kids too so they don’t fall through the cracks.”

Thinking of Ella and what happened in her past, I nod. “It would help, at least our community, but what if others see what we’re doing and do the same thing? I’m not naive enough to think it’ll end bullying per se, but at the simplest level, kids just want to be loved and heard. When they’re bullied in school, then everyone becomes their enemy and sometimes, they make very bad decisions that impact a lot of lives. Stopping even one kid from ruining their life or the lives of their classmates is worth it to me.”

“Same, brother. My school went on lockdown one day with an active shooter. Even though I was a teenager and had started growing into my height, I was no defense against the weaponry he brought to school. I was in the gym for PE and when the alarm blared, the teacher had us lock the doors then get everyone into their office because that door locked as well. Still, there were others who weren’t as lucky, and finding out one of the girls who was always nice to me when I was being bullied, was one who didn’t make it absolutely gutted me.”

“Fuck, Psycho, that’s awful and it’s become more and more prevalent these days,” I reply. “Hell, I remember reading that the first time it happened was back in the seventies when a girl woke up on a Monday angry at the world or some shit. She lived across from an elementary school and started shooting from her front porch, for fuck’s sake!”

He starts picking up the tools I used and putting them in the toolbox as he continues to talk. “The worst part now is the guns these fuckers get access to have far more firepower than a handgun or shotgun. It makes me sick that kids can be killed while playing during recess, y’know what I mean?”

“Yeah, brother.” I decide to change the subject and ask, “What did you figure out with hiring some of the kids in the work release program?”

“Ah, we can swing four or five teens without a problem, and I had another idea when I was checking into it,” he replies.

“Well, what was it?” I probe when he doesn’t say anything else.

“We know some of the vehicles at the scrapyard can be brought back to life with a lot of elbow grease and some hard work. What if we donate one of those to the auto shop for the kids to work on during the school year? They could then auction it off and use the proceeds for a variety of things they need. Maybe even offer a partial scholarship to the tech school for those who want their ASE certification. Because eventually, we’re going to want to expand our shop and we’re going to need employees,” he says.

“Damn, I like that idea a lot, Psycho,” I murmur. “And if we donate a car at the beginning of the school year, they end up being able to do it on a yearly basis.”

“The donation would be a tax write-off for us, but aside from that, it’ll help build pride and a sense of well-being in those kids who might not get it at home,” he replies.

“Bring it to church,” I advise. “Because I love the idea and think the other brothers will as well. Not only that, but when the shop class gets to the point where they’re working on the engine, shit like that, some of us who know what we’re doing can go and work alongside them. Sometimes, showing someone helps them retain the knowledge better than merely telling them what to do.”

“I was a visual learner,” he admits. “Oh, I read the textbooks and shit, but until I saw something being done, it was just a bunch of words. Not everyone picks up on new things the same way. Fuck, can you tell I’m excited about the possibilities of this new project?”

I chuckle as I help him clean up so we can move on to the surgical suite. “Nothing wrong with being enthusiastic, Psycho. And we’re not just gonna throw money at the problem, we’re going to be alongside these kids. I wonder if there’s anything else we can do?”

“I’ve got a shit ton of ideas. Before the club, I wanted to be a teacher, but shit didn’t pan out. However, with the way the world’s been these past years, there are some skills that have gotten lost due to technology. I think we should bring them back, at least the ones that’ll let folks help themselves.”

Curious now, I ask, “Like what?”

“How many people have a garden? Know how to put up the things they grow? Can make bread from scratch, that sort of thing? I remember my mom talking about how much fun she had when she was in school in her home economics class. What if we created something we could offer as a class at the high school that covered that kind of thing? We have the people right in our own family who could teach them. Holly and Esther both are skilled at gardening, canning, and raising chickens. Holly’s also an accountant who can teach them how to do a checkbook, create and balance a budget, that sort of thing. Paul’s got farming skills he could pass on to those following that path, most of the rest of us are licensed mechanics. If we can’t get approved to do it through the school, I’m sure we can put our heads together to figure out how to offer it to our community.”