by Nicky Webber
Hawke made a quick calculation. ‘With VAT at ten percent and business tax of twenty-one percent and chuck in a few percent for extra fees and costs,’ said Hawke. ‘We’re taking, about say, sixty-five percent return. Still stacks up,’ he grinned.
‘We don’t have to convert it all to cash. We can arrange some direct transfers into the fake business account in small amounts. They must look exactly like monthly day care fees for say thirty children at each of the four fake businesses across the city. We run books, have fake clients and suppliers. I can set it up with a cunning software application, so all the activity looks genuine,’ Fred explained, caught up in the excitement of the challenge. He fleetingly turned to glance at his son’s face. ‘We can even create an App on our cell phones, so we instantly notice any anomaly or fault on the project system which sets up an alert for our immediate response.’
‘Wow! This really sounds like the business,’ Hawke chuckled. ‘Several busy day care businesses across the city. We’re kind of money laundering in-house. Hiding in plain sight. The irony of this type of business. Too easy.’
‘So, we would pay tax, VAT and any other charges from our take and make it look as legit as humanly possible?’ Hawke asked.
‘Exactly!’ Fred said. ‘We need to run it like a real live business with a database of activities like lists of kids and a range of activities with childcare support workers and all customized for each day care center. Any questions and we can show the taxman the activities and graphs of performance at each branch.’
‘So, what about the code?’ Hawke asked.
The conversation picked up again as Fred discussed positioning the code on the main servers inside both the corporates where they both already worked. It would sit alongside the existing transaction software and access the data at a random rate.
‘In this way,’ Fred suggested, ‘there would be no apparent pattern, making the skimming less obvious to anyone overseeing the operations inside their offices.
Both Fred and Hawke could monitor the elegant SQL script and remove it over weekends or if they learned of any internal audit or review being undertaken on the database servers or in the operational transaction teams. Over an hour passed, and they had returned to the park’s entry gate in silence, each man mulling over the intricacies and barriers to achieving their aim. They both agreed the project was a stroke of genius and would transform their lives.
Hawke was inwardly pleased. He knew he had his father hooked, but nothing in Fred’s body language or facial expression gave anything away. He looked passive and severe but continued to agree with the conversation as Hawke walked with him along the sidewalk to their parked cars. Fred finally committed to drafting up some code for potential testing on a closed-loop system they could mock-up at home. But his father still maintained a sense of unease and reluctance. Despite misgivings, both men knew the project was definitely doable.
CHAPTER 26
Playing in the Shallows
It had been six long, heartless days with Maddy not wishing to return home. She continued to block calls from Fred and Logan. Both men assuaged their fear and anxiety that Maddy would never return by convincing one another that she surely had to come to her senses, eventually. On Saturday afternoon, they sat opposite one another in the living room sharing the L.A. Times, reading out political snippets, sports scores and fragments of celebrity scandal from the newspaper.
Distracted, Logan stood up, collecting Fred’s coffee mug. ‘Another coffee?’ he asked, still immersed in the back pages of the sports section.
Fred replied without looking up. ‘Yeah, thanks.’
It was already late morning, and warm sunlight streaked across the living room, almost fingering the kitchen counter-top as Logan turned the coffee machine on again. It sizzled and spat as he waited for the pressure to rise. Logan turned to look across at Fred, absorbed in the newspaper with the dappled rays of light fracturing the shadows where Fred sat on the overstuffed sofa. His large bare feet rested on the edge of the coffee table.
Maddy wouldn’t like that, Logan thought to himself, realizing their lives may have taken an irreparable turn for the worst. She may never return. His heart constricted when he thought of her gone forever. They had tried everything to encourage her back home. Neither man could fully comprehend Maddy’s strange isolationist behavior.
Fred’s voice interceded. ‘You’re looking worried.’
‘Yeah. Just wish we could talk to Maddy. If she would just meet us and discuss what the issues are, we could sort things out.’
Fred smiled in agreement and folded the newspaper. ‘It’s a shame. We had such a peaceful, carefree existence. I want to get back to how it was,’ he said sadly.
‘I thought she would’ve gotten some perspective by now. I guess there’s nothing more we can do but hope,’ Logan concluded, crestfallen.
‘Yeah, it’s so frustrating. We’ve contacted all of Maddy's friends. I even called Caro in Canada, hoping Maddy was staying there. Someone must know something,’ said Fred. ‘I’m worrying that she’s ill, not in her right mind or may be injured or worse.’
‘Let’s not go there. Remember Maddy sent that letter and we agreed to let her have time.’
‘Sure, but how much damn time does she need?’ Fred frowned.
They fell silent for a few minutes, until Logan spoke again. ‘Hawke wants to have that re-naming ceremony. That celebration thing he was talking about. Do you think if we got him to contact her and explain, she might come home? He’s going to want his own Mom here for it.’
Fred sighed. ‘Good idea.
‘Have a chat to Hawke and see if you two can swing it,’ said Logan, disheartened by the wall of resistance Maddy had placed between them all. ‘I somehow think Hawke’s got a better chance than us.’
Fred nodded and left the room.
‘What about your coffee?’ Logan asked, his eyes following Fred stalking out of the front door.
‘No,’ said Fred. ‘I’ll get one later.’ He grabbed his keys from the hall stand and stalked outside, pushed the keys into the ignition, revved the car and drove off down the street. Logan just stood there, gob smacked, at his friend’s sudden disappearance. He flipped the coffee machine off and pressed his left hand across his forehead, closing his eyes and thought to himself; this whole scenario had been a complete screw-up. He sighed out loud into the empty open plan living room and wondered how much more of this stress and angst could any of them take.
He felt as if he had been swimming in a race across the ocean, the beach straight ahead, positioned in his line of sight. A bright and meaningful target, an aim that made his life worth living. But now in recent weeks, the waves were taller, the wind harder and the warming light from the sun had virtually disappeared.
Logan Jones knew he was floundering in the murky waters of discontent and struggling to wade into the shallows. He always kept an eye on the distant shore, aware of the ripple effect, as his mind flayed in the depths of growing melancholy.
Why couldn’t life get back to how it was? He missed the shared love and understanding they each had for one another. He needed to take charge and find Maddy, make her understand that both he and Fred needed her. Without her in their lives, each life was not worth the breath it required.
He recalled a long weekend away, many years ago, when Logan’s wife Mila was still alive, and before they all had children. They had gone away for a weekend, camping along a river.
The late afternoon sun bounced off the water’s surface, sparkling and delightful as he sipped a beer with Fred. They were fishing for trout. It all comes down to the same thing, like fishing, it’s always about the big one that got away.
Maybe it was on one of their visits to New Zealand. He couldn’t quite recall. But he remembered all four of them swimming naked in the river after nightfall. The soft silky feel of the gently flowing water running smoothly over his naked body and the girls giggling and laughing as Fred got out of the water and jumped from the small
timber jetty.
When he looked back now, he knew this to be one of the happiest moments in his life. Pure, carefree fun as both men splashed their girlfriends, and he pretended to be Jaws, slowly skimming the surface making that frightening beat of the movie’s music theme as he gradually moved from the dark shadows of the overhanging trees towards Mila and Maddy where they floated, treading water and suddenly falling silent, watching him closing in.
Mila had squealed when Fred had grabbed her from behind. They all splashed and shrieked at one another, with the girls trying to get away. It was the last night of their camping holiday. A relaxed and effortless sense of belonging comforted them all.
It was a full moon tonight, and Logan thought about both women’s languid, naked bodies. He just wanted to hug them both and enjoy more horseplay in the shallows of their youth, a blissful, taunting time. A time he would never forget.
In bed alone that night, he wanted to ignore the family’s tension and kept pulling his mind back to the warm nostalgia of the past. He recalled Mila gently kissing him. Butterfly kisses, she used to joke. Logan sighed, remembering the love they made all those years ago.
Subconsciously his right hand reached under the bedclothes, seeking the ecstasy of his youth and the historical euphoria of his senses. But now in his fifties, thrashed by love and loss, it was more challenging to hold the memories and indulge in those dreams. He held himself half-heartedly and after a few strokes realized that it was like cranking the handle of the first model A Ford and soon gave it up to escape into the more primal demand for crucial sleep.
CHAPTER 27
Maddy Returns
The shrill ring of Maddy’s cell phone pierced the early morning darkness. It was another fitful night's sleep, struggling with waking and worrying about what the future held. Her left hand reached out from under the bedcovers and scrabbled around on the bedside table, eventually clutching her buzzing cell phone. Lifting her head from the pillow and with blurry eyes, she peered at the digital screen. The contact name said Sasha, which filled her with unease but galvanized her into answering the call.
It was 6:45 am.
‘Sasha? Are you okay?’ Maddy’s concern was unmistakable.
‘I'm sorry to wake you so early,’ Sacha’s tremulous, youthful voice responded. ‘But I’ve some bad news about Hawke.’ Maddy immediately felt the tension in Sacha’s restricted tone.
She sat bolt upright, pulling the sheets and bedding up to her neck with the phone pressed hard against her ear. A sense of urgency and rising panic. ‘What is it?’ asked Maddy’s tense voice.
‘I had to rush Hawke to the emergency room at the hospital last night around 11 pm,’ Sacha said. ‘They have diagnosed him with acute kidney failure and he’s in intensive care for now.’
Maddy took a sharp intake of breath, her heart racing as a shock wave of adrenalin washed over her. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked incredulously. ‘He seemed perfectly fine when I last saw him.’
‘I don't want to upset you, but I'm telling you because I think you need to return home and help with Hawke’s recovery.’ Sasha continued.
‘What are you saying?’ asked Maddy, fearing the worst. ‘How did he get this sick?’ her voice tight with increasing terror.
‘It all happened so fast. Hawke was okay and then within a matter of hours he complained of pain, then nausea, and had a high fever. By ten last night, I had to rush him to hospital. They have it under control now, but he’s on kidney dialysis,’ explained Sasha.
‘Is it just one kidney?’ Maddy asked, panicking.
‘No. Unfortunately, it's both, and they’re pretty bad.’ Sacha said in a quieter, more controlled voice, not really believing what she was telling Hawke's mother. ‘It all happened so fast. I’m still feeling pretty shocked too.’
‘Oh my God, this is horrific! What are we going to do? I'll get my keys, and I'll be there as quickly as I can. It'll probably take me about seven hours to drive back home.’ Maddy hesitated in mid-panic. ‘What do the doctors say? Is there any chance that he could recover?’
‘It’s looking doubtful,’ Sasha said firmly.
‘What?’ Maddy responded in complete disbelief. ‘Surely something can be done? Is he on medication, on antibiotics? What are they going to do? I need to get him to a specialist.’
Sasha interrupted. ‘It's okay. It's okay Maddy,’ she repeated, using her first name to anchor the older woman into a calmer headspace. ‘He’s stable now, and they think they've got the infection under control, but there’s been previous damage to the kidneys which they say is permanent.’
‘Oh God,’ Maddy breathed into the phone. ‘What are we going to do? There must be some treatment or solution?’
Sasha sucked in her breath. ‘Yes, but Hawke’s best chance is a kidney transplant. And before you say anything else, it has to be a direct genetic match, to avoid any further complications.’
Silence.
‘Are you still there?’ Sacha spoke into her cell phone. ‘Maddy?’
‘Okay. I understand,’ Hawke’s mother replied. The pitch of her voice lowered and gaining back some control. ‘I know. I'm sure one of my kidneys would be okay.’ Maddy immediately volunteered. ‘He could have one of mine,’ she repeated, alarm saturating her voice. ‘I'm his mother, and I’ll be a direct genetic match for sure. Can you call Fred and your dad and tell them I’ll be home before five tonight? I need to make a few phone calls to the specialist medical people I know and a friend of mine who could pull some strings. I want to make sure Hawke gets first-class treatment.’
‘Maddy, that's unnecessary,’ said Sasha. ‘He is in the best care in hospital right there in LA.’
‘Oh hell,’ Maddy breathed into the phone. ‘How is this even possible? How could he get so sick? What did they say the cause was?’ Her voice cracked, sounding close to tears.
‘They asked me all sorts of questions, and Hawke was almost comatose, so unable to speak for himself,’ Sacha explained. ‘I answered as best as I could. They seem to think the chemo treatment for the lymphoma that he had a couple of years ago may have contributed to the original kidney damage. That appears to be the reason he's ended up like this. They suspect it's been a slow degrading process over the last year or two.’
There was silence as both women processed the information and implications of what was being conveyed.
‘He said to me, when we were in New Zealand toward the end of our stay, that he wasn't feeling too good. We both thought it might be the return of the lymphoma. Then he seemed to recover. It was kind of up and down. Neither of us took it very seriously because he would come right after each bout,’ Sasha continued.
‘Okay, I get the picture,’ Maddy said, taking a deep breath to control her anxiety. ‘Right. Yeah, I remember him saying a similar thing and I put it down to work stress. I'm sorry, Sacha, about my reaction now. I got such a fright when you first called. I really want to thank you. Thank you for calling me and letting me know.’
‘Thank God for caller ID, or you would never have answered your phone. Fred and Dad said you’ve been impossible to get hold of and they also said to tell you they’re sorry.’
Sacha paused, deciding to tell a small white lie. ‘I don't know what that means, but they seem to think that you’d understand. They said to tell you to please, please come home.’
‘Of course, I understand,’ Maddy responded. ‘Please tell Fred and your father that I will be home before five tonight. I'll see you all then.’
‘Sure,’ Sacha said. ‘Please drive carefully. We need no more drama. Take care.’
Eight hours later, Maddy arrived back home in Santa Monica, exhausted from driving and shattered by the emotional turmoil that had flooded her thoughts all the way home.
Both Fred and Logan stood at the front door to greet her in return. There wasn’t a dry eye among them as they stood in the tiled entryway, each wrestling with the emotional cauldron of love, loss and the fear of losing a son who was entering another ha
rd-won battle for his life.
CHAPTER 28
DNA Has It
Later that week, the trio discussed the medical reports, blood, and scan results with two renal specialists. Almost immediately, it became clear to all three parents that Hawke’s best chance for a good recovery rested on a kidney transplant.
Back home, the conversation turned to the question of a DNA match to minimize rejection and a host of other complications.
‘Well, let’s talk to the kids. Blake seems the most obvious fit, don’t you think?’ Fred suggested. ‘Before we all go queueing up for expensive genetic testing.’
The biological parents nodded in agreement. ‘Yeah, I guess,’ Maddy added, feeling uncertain. ‘In some ways but Hawke, of course, will have Logan’s DNA.’
‘After all, apart from being his brother, Blake’s young and fit. He might just be a match,’ Fred added.
Maddy shook her head and held Fred’s gaze. ‘Are you saying you think Blake is also Logan’s son?’
Fred shrugged. ‘Let’s face it. How the hell do any of us really know?’
The temperature in the room dropped about 20 degrees as they all maintained grim silence. No one wanted to ignite another war, except for Fred, who clearly had Doug in the driving seat. Pushing all the wrong buttons.
Fred reconsidered, sensing he had pushed things too far. ‘Sorry guys, I didn’t mean it like the way it came out.’ He inhaled before reiterating. ‘We need to all focus on getting Hawke well again.’
All three fell silent, eating their evening meal and turning over the niggling thoughts that occupied them all.
As they were clearing away the dishes, Fred explained he had already undertaken a DNA test. A swab inside his mouth and a blood test, which would determine suitability for donating a kidney to Hawke.
