The Undertaking of Adam Novak

by Sofie Hern

  “His father?”

  Jaycob nods. “He's been gone for years, but he showed up at my sister’s funeral on Friday”

  “Did he speak to Aaron?” asks mustache.

  “No. He was there briefly and then gone.”

  “Did you speak to him?”

  “No. No one did. That I know of.”

  “What's the father's name?”

  “Levy. God, I can’t remember his last name. Um...Palmer, I think.”

  The officer notes the name down and says, “Do you know where he lives?”

  “I have no clue. Last I heard he was in California, but that was years ago.”

  “We'll see what we can find out.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?” Jaycob says and mustache exchanges a glance with his partner before speaking. “We believe that the driver was exceeding the speed limit, estimated at about thirty-five in a twenty-five-mile school zone.”

  They tell Jaycob that the driver was the one who called 911 and waited by Aaron’s side until the ambulance arrived and then waited for the authorities. He was questioned and released on scene. Jaycob also learns that Aaron ran into the street without paying attention. Unfortunately, the driver didn’t see a man chasing Aaron as his attention had been on the boy, subsequent to the accident.

  They ask Jaycob more questions and take more notes. They take Jaycob’s number and he offers Adam’s as well.

  “Mr. Novak, I'm so sorry,” the principal offers. “Please know that our number one priority at this school is safety.”

  Jaycob only nods.

  The principal then takes Aaron’s backpack from under the desk and gives it to Jaycob. “Please give our best to your family, and keep us informed.”

  Jaycob shakes the officers’ hands.

  “We’ll be in touch,” sad eyes tells him.

  44

  ADAM

  Nurses come and go throughout the afternoon. I sit at Aaron’s bedside while Charles and I communicate via texts and emails. I still feel horrible for leaving work after a week off, but know I have to be with Aaron and Charles understands. I spend some time studying the machines, trying to understand their purpose.

  The steady beeping of the heart monitor is a good reminder that he’s still alive. I lean back on the chair and press my palms to my tired eyes. The intercom is at low volume but loud enough for me to hear that some doctor is needed in radiology. I rub at my temples, take a deep breath and exhale. So much has happened in such a short time and there’s still so much to take care of. I take my phone from the small table and step out of the room.

  –

  The nurses’ station is busy even though the ICU is quiet, save for the low beeping sounds emitting from the rooms.

  In the waiting room, I call Charles’s daughter-in-law.

  “This is Ruth.” Her voice is professional but pleasant.

  I introduce myself and discuss my plans for adoption. I explain the circumstances and what has transpired since Tianna’s death. She tells me that a judge may grant temporary power of attorney for me to be able to make medical decisions on Aaron’s behalf, which is the first priority. Secondly, kinship adoption. This process will take longer, but she’s willing to help get the process started immediately. Obviously, this sensitive matter needs to be discussed face-to-face and it will require time. She asks me to come by her office at any time to get started.

  –

  As I make my way back through the double doors Jaycob emerges from the elevator. He looks disheveled and nervous. Granted, he’s a constant ball of nerves, but more so than usual.

  I summon him to follow me and we go back through the double doors and into the empty waiting room where he refuses to sit. I stand in the middle of the room with my hand on my hips and Jaycob’s by the window.

  “What did you find out?”

  He takes a slow, deep breath and says, “I think Levy caused this. I think he showed up at Aaron’s school.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  He nods. “Some kids say they saw Aaron talking to a man before taking off running. The cops say they have witness statements saying a man was running after Aaron.” Jaycob shakes his head. “Still unknown for sure but I’m pretty sure it’s Levy. I mean, who else? Right? He shows up at the funeral and now this? Fuck coincidences, man.”

  I must look exactly how I feel… sick.

  “You okay?”

  I give a slow nod, but I’m not sure what to make of it and I start to shake; my head’s spinning and my blood pumps in my ears. I drop in a chair and after a long moment of silence resurface from a haze and whisper, “Irene.”

  Jaycob crosses the room and crouches down in front of me. “Hey.” There’s concern in his voice and he pats my cheek a few times until I finally look at him. A bad feeling starts to grow in my belly and I know that Irene may be able to explain.

  I get to my feet and walk out of the room with Jaycob in tow.

  “Hey, wait!” Jaycob calls as I make my way toward the bank of elevators across the hall. He grabs me by the arm and spins me around.

  “What is it?”

  I glance around and lower my voice. “Can you stay here?”

  “You okay?”

  “I can’t explain right now.”

  “But—”

  “Jake, I will. Okay?”

  He nods and I walk to an elevator.

  You'll regret this. Her words haunt me. I press the ‘close door’ button over and over. “Bitch,” I murmur as the elevator descends.

  –

  I emerge from the building disoriented and exit the parking lot with screeching tires and high on adrenaline. My heart wants out of my chest at the thought that is swimming in my head. Of course, it was Levy. “You son of a bitch!” I am perspiring profusely as I exit the highway and maneuver my way into Pines Place. In one motion I manage to turn off the engine, jump out of the car and cross the yard. I don’t bother knocking, but somehow with shaky hands, I manage to pull out the key and open the door.

  –

  “Irene!” I call up, standing at the foot of the stairs with my hands on my hips.

  She emerges from the family room with a stupid smile on her face and approaches me with open arms.

  I slam the front door shut, turn to her and grab her by the arms, pushing her against the wall. I’m out of control with rage.

  “What the fuck did you do?” I hiss and perspiration trickles down my face.

  Her eyes flicker and I see panic, only for an instant, but I saw it. “What do you mean?” Her eyes are huge.

  I push her harder against the wall. “Where is he?” I yell.

  “You’re hurting me!”

  I let go of her and back away. I start to pace the office in an attempt to calm down as I wipe sweat off my forehead and snot off my nose. Am I crying?

  Irene rubs her arms. “What’s your problem?” she demands, matching my tone.

  “I need to know where he is!”

  “Who? What are you talking about?” Her lower lip quivers and tears fill her eyes. What the hell am I doing?

  “Levy. Where is he?” I beg, looking to the ceiling. My tone is low and calm.

  She walks to me with her arms stretched out, inviting me in. “Baby, I don’t—”

  “Don’t fucking…” I stop talking and go past her to the family room.

  For some reason, the crack on the television screen doesn’t fully register. I do a 360 where I stand, looking for… what, exactly?

  “Your phone,” I tell her. I’m breathing hard now.

  “What?”

  “Where the fuck is your damn phone?” I yell as I throw cushions every which way until I find it. With shaky hands, I search for any sign; any clue of the fucker, but find nothing and toss the phone on the floor. “Damn it!” I hiss.

  Irene picks up her phone to inspect it. “The last time I heard from him was the day of the funeral,” she says, cleaning the phone with her shirt.

  “What was the last thing h
e told you?” My fury diminishes when I see that she’s crying. I feel horrible, but only for a moment. She turns away and I grab her by the elbow.

  “Stop hurting me!”

  “What was the last thing he said? No fucking bullshit, Irene!”

  “He… he said he was heading back to California. That… that he made a… a mistake by coming here. That’s all he said. I swear.” She’s sobbing now with her face in her hands.

  I inhale, wipe at my forehead and stare at the ceiling until my anger subsides.

  “How long have you been talking to him?”

  No answer and I notice that she’s shaking.

  “How long?” I ask again.

  “A month?” Her voice breaks.

  “With what intent?”

  “He... he wanted to know how his family was doing and—”

  “We’re not…” I start to yell, then hold back. “We’re not his goddamn family.”

  “I'm sorry, Adam. I… I thought I was doing a good thing,” she says and I let out a sarcastic snort.

  I put my hands behind my head and exhale. “How did he get hold of you?”

  She looks lost, confused and refuses to answer, then sinks into the sofa as more tears fall.

  I open my mouth to speak, but stop. This is fucking useless. With a shake of my head, I go upstairs.

  “Why are you asking all these questions?” She follows me into the bedroom, but I only shake my head.

  “Adam!” she calls after me.

  My suitcase is on the bed and I open it to see what’s inside.

  “I had it ready for you,” she says, but I ignored her.

  “Is everything okay?”

  I close the suitcase, no longer giving a shit what’s in it then turn to her and say, “The fucking asshole showed up at Aaron’s school.”

  She gasps and places a hand over her mouth, but a flicker of amusement crosses her face. I go to my side of the closet and take my work boots, grab my suitcase and go downstairs with Irene at my heel.

  When I walk out of the house I can hear her yelling. “I'm sorry if I upset you… I really am!” she’s saying.

  45

  IRENE

  Irene stares at the closed door. Her hands are fists and tears roll down her cheeks. “Fucking asshole!” she hisses then wipes her tears with anger and walks to the family room.

  She’s relieved that she deleted any trace of Levy prior to this encounter—an encounter she wasn’t expecting. She removed his number, deleted his calls, texts, and emails. “That was too close,” she whispers and dials Levy’s number which, she knows by heart, but her call goes straight to voice mail.

  Once seated, she pulls up her sleeves to examine her arms, which are still bright red.

  She's never seen Adam so angry before and understands that the way things are developing isn’t good at all. How did he know it was Levy? What now? She hopes and prays that Levy is gone. She lied to Adam, of course, about Levy being in California, but she had no other option. What else could she have said?

  She’s learned so much from Ken, has been so careful with her plan only to have Levy fuck everything up for her.

  She worries about Ken too, about what he’ll do to her if she gets caught. Because surely once they find Levy—who’ll definitely throw her under the bus—it will inevitably lead to an investigation, and from there it’ll only be a matter of time before it reaches Ken and his business. Damn it! Her thoughts are out of control.

  After a long moment of reflecting and panicking, she’s finally calm enough. She wipes the tears and gets to her feet. From the office, she grabs her purse and leaves the house.

  –

  She drives south to the motel where Levy has been staying, off the strip on Sierra Vista. Since he isn’t answering her calls she feels the need to see for herself that indeed he’s gone.

  With the beautiful weather outside, she thinks it’s a shame that she has to spend her time hunting a man down.

  –

  She pulls into the parking lot of the rundown motel, scans the area and spots Levy’s black van toward the back. She drives over and parks her Volvo station wagon next to it and gets out, trying not to attract attention. She looks around and sees a couple of teenage boys on skateboards out in the street. A woman knocks on a door on the second floor. Other than that, no one else is around. She approaches the cargo van, which is locked and can't see anything through the front window. She glances around again and walks to room 124, where she was days prior when she delivered the key.

  She puts an ear to the door and can hear the distinctive sound of a sitcom on TV. She raps her knuckles on the door, hears movement inside and then sees the curtains move. Seconds later the bolt is disengaged and the door opens.

  “What the fuck do you want?” hisses Levy, poking his head out and glances around, making sure no one’s watching.

  “Can I come in?”

  He says nothing for a moment, then steps aside to let her in.

  –

  Levy is wearing sweats and nothing else; his muscular torso gleams with sweat and a pair of dumbbells sit on the floor by the bed. Levy takes a joint from the nightstand, lights it and soon the room is filled with smoke and the reek of weed.

  “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” she demands, standing by the TV.

  When Levy only stares at her, she knows he’s clueless. He puts out the joint and crosses to her, taking her by the arm. “What the fuck are you doing calling me after what happened?”

  “I… you need to get out of here,” she tells him and shrugs off his touch.

  He chuckles and shakes his head.

  “I'm fucking serious. They know it was you, Levy—”

  “What?”

  She sees the panic in his eyes. “What the fuck were you doing chasing the kid in the middle of school drop off?”

  He paces the floor, rubbing his shiny head with both hands. “Fuck!” He looks terrified. “Is… is he dead?”

  “In a coma but—”

  “Fuck!” he yells and kicks at a can of beer that’s on the floor. He walks to the closet, takes out a duffle bag and begins throwing clothes in it.

  “Can you do the house before you leave?”

  Levy stops what he’s doing, walks to her and grabs her by the neck. “Are you fucking serious? The kid almost got killed! You’re on your own,” he tells her and goes to the restroom to get a toothbrush, deodorant, and puts them in the bag. He takes his joint from the nightstand and puts it in his pocket. He grabs the bag that lines the trash can and shoves it in the suitcase along with an ashtray containing several cigarette butts.

  “But—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” he says closing the suitcase. He puts on a T-shirt, a jacket, and his shoes; makes sure he’s not leaving anything behind and walks out with the dumbbells in one hand and the bag in the other.

  –

  He glances around, walks to the van and places the suitcase and weights in the back. He then climbs into the driver’s seat and closes the door, then rolls down the window.

  “The best thing you can do now is keep your goddamn mouth shut,” he advises.

  She approaches and puts her hand out with an open palm. “The key.”

  “What?”

  “The key to the house. I need it back.”

  He smiles. “The key stays with me,” he tells her and starts the engine.

  “No!”

  He grabs her by the back of her head, pulls her close to the window and she struggles against his grip.

  “Listen to me, you fucking bitch,” he whisperers and Irene starts to shake.

  “You fucking mention me in your fuck up and you go down with me. Do you fucking hear me?”

  She nods frantically, unable to speak. He kisses her lips, lets her go and she stumbles backward. She’s left shaking with fear.

  Thanksgiving

  November 27, 2014

  46

  ADAM

  Aaron has been in a coma for a week and a hal
f, and doctors started stimuli three days after the induction but have been unsuccessful in waking him. Though they tell me that it is normal as the anesthetic is still leaving his system, I still worry about him.

  I took the rest of that week off work after the accident and went back on Monday of this short holiday week.

  The investigation in regards to Levy’s involvement in Aaron’s accident has been put on hold because, according to authorities, they’ve received far too many conflicting accounts of what happened that morning. A few witnesses—children, mostly—went so far as saying that it was Spider-Man chasing after Aaron.

  Authorities cleared the driver of the pickup on the basis that he has no previous record, and though he was speeding—for which he paid a fine—it was ruled an unfortunate accident. The driver, a fifty-something-year-old man with a beer belly and a reddish beard visited Aaron a couple of days after the accident. He offered money—which I refused—to help pay for some of the medical expenses.

  Rita comes to see Aaron every day after work, giving Jaycob and I time to rest and take care of things we need to take care of. My meeting with Ruth (my lawyer) went very well. A judge granted Jaycob and I power of attorney pending an emergency kinship adoption, which could be finalized as early as mid-December. Ruth recommended a divorce lawyer as well and I want to start the process as soon as humanly possible but Aaron continues to be a priority.

  I’ve stayed away from Irene and although she attempts to contact me, I don’t answer her calls or messages. I can’t quite explain it, but something doesn’t feel right with her. The previous Friday she left me a voicemail telling me that Jordyn was acting strange and that she needed us to get together to discuss her daughter’s well being. However, when I called Jordyn that same day she assured me that she was fine, worried about Aaron, but that was all.

  I brought Jordyn to the hospital a few times after school and she’d do her homework and talk to Aaron. She tells me that she’s one hundred percent certain that Aaron can hear us, but I’m not so sure.