Ordeal by Cheque: The Life of Jr
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John McElyea
August 24, 2003
Checkbook Final Draft
Ordeal by Cheque: The life of Jr
Tony turned the corner at a dangerous speed, trying to go even faster, but the sirens behind him did not get any softer. This was all the kid’s fault.
That stupid kid.
Tony sped up, dodging traffic as he had so many times before, except this time it was different. The kid. Tony thought back, remembering everything he could, all the way to the very beginning.
Lawrence Exeter Junior had been born in the heat of the day on September 2, 1903. He was different from the day he was born. His rich parents sensed something was wrong, for parents usually can sense things about their child. Therefore, the day after he was born, Marie and Lawrence Exeter took the newborn to Dr. David McCoy for a check-up. The doctor said that the baby was as healthy as a horse, and there was nothing to worry about. Still, the parents worried, because parents can tell. Jr, as everyone called him, was very quiet as a baby and never had big reactions to things. Everyone said he was just quiet. His parent brought him gifts from California Toyland, but they soon figured out that he was happy with just staring at something or handling a small object. When he reached 6, his father enrolled him in Palisades School for boys. Jr excelled in all of his classes except art and handwriting. Jr’s 3rd report card showed that he had improved his handwriting, so Lawrence Sr brought Jr a bicycle. Jr was immediately fascinated with it. Within a week, Jr had mastered training wheels, and exactly sixteen days after he had mastered training wheels, Jr was riding it without the training wheels. Jr rode his bicycle everywhere. He even started waking up earlier in the morning so he and his dad could bike down to Palisades, which was nine miles away. His bicycle became his treasure. All of his artwork in art class now somehow revolved around a bicycle. On July 24, 1915, the real trouble with Jr started that would ruin many lives, including Tony Spagoni’s.
Jr was out riding his bicycle, when a man by the name of Steve Matterson came around a corner too fast, tried to slam on brakes, but ended up hitting both Jr and his bike. Because Steve had put on his brakes, Jr only suffered scrapes and bruises. His bike however, was a mess. Jr cried for hours that day, his parents comforting him and telling him they would buy him a new one the next day. They never did. They never pressed charges out of courtesy, for they knew it was an accident that anyone would have made. That night, before Jr’s parents put him to bed, he said to them:
“I’m sorry”
“What are you sorry for, honey?” his mom asked.
“You’ll know,” he said, rolling over and pretending to go to sleep. Later, when Jr was sure his parents were asleep, he got up, and wrote a simple letter that read:
i’m sorry
He put the letter in an envelope, sealed it, and somehow correctly addressed it to Steve Matterson. Three days later, right before Mrs. Exeter was about to take her son to the toyshop to buy a new bike, she picked up the paper and a certain article caught her eye. It said:
Man Murdered
Steve Matterson was found choked
to death in his house. Officials say…
Later in the story it mentioned that a letter was found in his house that said i’m sorry.
This was enough for Marie. She knew how to put two and two together.
“What did you do to Steve,” she asked Jr.
“I’m sorry,” he said casually.
“Well, you can’t get a new bike until I know what happened. He glared at her for a moment, then said,
“I made him sorry, too.”
Of course, you can guess that didn’t go over well. The Exeter family never discussed it outside the immediate family. There was much discussion between Mr. and Mrs. Exeter, though. They decided to straighten him out. They knew that he was directly linked to Matterson’s death, but they didn’t have a clue as to what had happened. So, on August 31, Jr, now 12 years old, stepped on to the campus of Columbia Military Academy.
He was a good student, made good grades, fit in, and his only behavioral problem was his reluctance to talk to his