Kier woke with his heart pounding. He was soaked in sweat and his face was wet with tears. As consciousness flooded back, his chest grew heavy with sorrow. He had lied. He had lied to Lincoln. He had lied to himself. The newspaper article, the Web comments had bothered him. Deeply.
How had he come to this place? When had he decided to be this? To be hated by strangers as well as those who knew him best, separated from his wife, disowned by his son, and his only friend, Lincoln, his lawyer, was paid a sizable monthly retainer. The truth was, he was more like everyone else than he wanted or pretended to be—he wanted to be loved. He wanted to be missed.
Kier got out of bed, threw his wet shirt on the floor, then headed downstairs. He went through his normal motions, made himself some toast and coffee, went outside and retrieved the newspaper. He sat at the kitchen table eating and reading, less out of interest than to distract his thoughts from his pain. As he thumbed through the pages of the paper he suddenly stopped at the obituaries where a name caught his eye: James Kier. He set down his coffee. Second column to the left, third from the top was his name. Only this time they got it right; it was the other James Kier. There was a small photograph of the man not much larger than a postage stamp. Kier thought he was not an especially good-looking individual. He was balding, his crown covered with a wide comb-over, and his face narrow and homely. Still, there was something about his expression that made him attractive. He looked happy and good-natured. Kier read the obituary.
James A. Kier, “Jak,” son of Dick and Bette (Beck) Kier, was born September 26, 1962, in Arcadia, California. He passed away Friday at the age of 47.
James’s childhood years were happily spent in California where he excelled at basketball and played on the team that went to the California State finals. He graduated from Arcadia High School in 1979. In April 1982 James was married to the love of his life, Martha Elizabeth Long of Monrovia, California. James moved his family to Utah after his mother took ill and he lovingly took care of her until her death. For more than two decades James worked as a school bus driver for the Wasatch School District and for three years straight was voted “World’s Best Driver” by the children. He would remember their birthdays and no child was ever teased or bullied in his presence. His favorite saying was “Not on my bus!” To many children he was their best friend and they would often confide in him their deepest secrets.
James was a great barbecue chef. He enjoyed fishing and spending time with family and friends. James’s humble, caring, and sincere ways were felt by all who knew him. He will be missed.
Left to cherish his memory are his wife, Martha, and his three children: Dan Kier and his wife, Linda; Margie Potts and her husband, Joel Eric; and Bonnie Kier. He is also survived by one sister, Ebony Brooke of Pasadena, California.
Preceding James in death were his parents and his brother, Tom.
In his honor, there will be a memorial service at his home (3540 Polk Avenue) on Sunday, at eleven A.M. until noon. Public is invited. The family has requested that in lieu of flowers, a donation be made in James’s name to his favorite charity, the Primary Children’s Medical Center children’s medical fund.
Kier looked down at his watch. It was a quarter to ten. Maybe it had something to do with his dream, maybe not, but for reasons he couldn’t fully explain he felt he had to go to this man’s memorial service. He tore the article from the paper, then went back upstairs, showered, put on a suit and tie and went to find the other James Kier’s home on Polk Avenue.
