by E H Davis
Racing to the spot above the burst of bubbles from his submerged car, they’d shined a strong flashlight over the side, guiding Jens to the surface, where they hauled him aboard like a spent fish.
Chapter Fifty
Jens lay tossing in a hospital bed, heaving and clawing with one arm — the one not in a cast — like a drowning man. The strong sedatives administered by the EMT staff had done nothing to mitigate his delusion, or stop him from mentally rehearsing his own obituary.
Ferdie looked on while attendants fumbled with Jens, finally strapping him down for his own protection, and covering him with warming blankets. After a few drinks with her new friends, she had checked her radio upon returning to her car. Hearing a description of the accident and the Subaru, she knew right away it was Jens.
Jens’ condition was an unusual but not uncommon shock response, temporary, the EMT doctor said. Jens had not suffered anoxic brain injury from hypothermia and would be himself in a matter of hours. Not to worry, concussion has been eliminated, too, he added. Aside from the broken arm and a gut full of brackish water they’d pumped out, Jens was in good condition, thanks to his speedy rescue, said the doctor, as he rushed to a new emergency.
Ferdie pulled a chair over to the bed and put a calming hand on Jens. Eyes clenched, Jens was still shivering, but his tremors had subsided with the help of the restraint. Teddy and Vivian were on the way in. Nola would be arriving shortly, driving down from Conway. Ferdie, feeling out of place in her dinner clothes and jewelry, settled in to keep vigil over her friend, like an ordinary citizen.
________
Jens drifted in and out of consciousness, not quite aware of his surroundings, nor cognizant of who he was and what had happened to him. The pull of oblivion was a rip tide taking him down, dashing him head over heels, further and further, out to sea.
The sound of talk, the signature and crown of human life, brought him back. Teddy’s voice was the first he recognized, followed by Ferdie’s.
Jens blinked awake. He was in a hospital bed. When he tried to sit up, he found he couldn’t. He bucked and his blankets fell away, revealing the strap across his chest and arms.
“Hey!” he shouted, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper.
It was enough to get Ferdie and Teddy’s attention. Ferdie called for a nurse while Teddy hovered over his father.
“Dad! Are you alright?” Jens heard the quiver in his voice. A wave of relief washed over him — Teddy was safe.
“I was worried about you.”
“Me? You’re the one,” said Teddy.
Jens nodded to Ferdie, trying to manage a smile.
“Ferdie, get this thing off me,” he croaked, jerking against his restraint.
The nurse Ferdie had summoned approached.
“I see you’re back with the living, Mr. Corbin. Are you going to behave yourself?” She hesitated before unbuckling the strap over his chest.
“What do you mean?” asked Jens.
“You were thrashing around. We didn’t want you to hurt your arm.”
Jens noticed the cast on his arm.
“My deadline! How the hell am I going to write?”
“I can help you with that.”
Nola draped her coat over a chair on the way to his bed. She was still wearing her hospital scrubs. She brushed her fingertips over Jens’ cheek.
“How are you?” She smiled down at him.
“Good,” answered Jens, hiding his embarrassment. He’d not had a chance to tell Teddy about her.
“How was the drive?” interjected Ferdie, trying to help.
She extended her hand to Teddy, who appeared to be having a hard time accepting the fact that his father had a girlfriend, let alone one as attractive as Nola. She brushed back a lock of golden-red hair that had escaped her bun.
“Hi. I’m Nola, a friend of your dad’s.”
Teddy glanced at her, then at Jens.
“A student of mine,” stammered Jens. “An ex-student, I mean. She’s a writer, too. Down from Conway.”
“A good friend,” she added with a smile.
Teddy raised an eyebrow as he took her hand, appraising her, liking what he saw.
“Charmed, I’m sure,” he said gallantly.
Jens exchanged looks with Ferdie.
“See, I told you he’d changed,” said Ferdie.
Chapter Fifty-One
Using Jens’ updated description of Laurent and the pickup truck he’d used to push Jens off the embankment into the Piscataqua, Ferdie put the wheels in motion to apprehend the convicted murderer. She called in a new BOLO and issued a warrant for his arrest, advising officers to use extreme caution, as their suspect was likely armed and had already proved dangerous.
Once Laurent was apprehended, she told Jens — who was now able to sit up in bed — he would be charged with attempted murder using a motor vehicle, and be returned to prison to serve out a new, extended sentence. In all likelihood, life, added Ferdie.
She questioned Teddy about Laurent. He said he’d had no contact with him and, aside from the letters Ferdie already knew about, had nothing to add.
Ferdie decided to take a ride out to the house in Lee on the unlikely chance that Vivian was hiding Laurent. Though she did not believe Vivian was complicit in the attempt on Jens’ life, she wanted to gauge her reaction when she told her about it. She could drop Teddy off at the same time, if it was safe. Promising to return for Teddy after a quick stop at the Portsmouth PD, she left Jens to explain to Teddy his relationship with Nola.
Nola, apparently sensing their need to talk, left them alone on the pretext of scaring up some breakfast and coffee. As soon as she was gone, Teddy let out a guffaw, followed by a whistle of appreciation.
“A friend, Daddio? I’d say you’ve been rather busy up there on Black Mountain.”
Jens hadn’t considered when he was going to introduce Teddy to Nola — and what as. His brush with death had taken that decision out of his hands. His primary concern in the months following his court-ordered separation from Teddy had been to steer clear of any behavior that would jeopardize his chances of being reunited with him. And bide his time until his day in court.
With a rush of anxiety, he realized that his day in court was today — this very afternoon! He groaned. Could it be postponed, he wondered, without jeopardizing his position? Better to go through with it if the doctors would release him.
“I can’t believe it! I’m due in court today about your custody.”
“Dad, I’ve already talked this over with Mom.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Ah ... you know I’ve been having some trouble at school.”
“I never should have taken you out of Exeter —”
“Naw, that’s not your fault. You had no choice. Mom ... she did this ... when she filed for divorce and took your money. Your hands were tied. Anyway, I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself.”
“Teddy, I’m sorry this ever happened.”
“I know, Dad, you got blindsided. I couldn’t really warn you as I didn’t know what Mom was up to, except that she was divorcing you and needed money.”
“Still, I should have seen it coming.”
Jens deliberated about how much to tell Teddy about his mother’s past and what that may have to do with last night’s attack and the terrorist threat on Teddy’s life. He gave him an edited version, leaving out his lawyer’s speculation about Vivian’s alleged role in the events leading to Laurent’s incarceration.
“She would never let anyone hurt you, Teddy. She loves you.”
They were silent for a moment, regrouping.
“Look,” Jens said, talking over Teddy’s simultaneous, “Look.”
After the nervous laughter died out, Jens asked, “What kind of trouble are you in at school?”
“These Thai kids who moved up from Boston — the Sworn Brothers — they’re trying to make a name for themselves controlling the drugs at school.”
Jens shook his head, bewildered.<
br />
“What’s that got to do with you? Is there any truth in what the principal claims — that you were dealing drugs found in your locker?”
“Dad, Dad, you know me,” protested Teddy, his voice raised stridently. “Do you think I deal drugs? Why would I? I don’t use them. I don’t even smoke cigarettes.”
“I don’t know, Teddy. You talked so much about pot before I went away —”
“Okay, sure, I was curious.”
“But not anymore? Have you gotten high since the last time we talked?”
“Dad, I made you a promise.”
“Well?”
“Do you want to hear the truth or not?”
“Go on, then.” Jens watched his son carefully, tuned to the subtle “tells” that give a liar away, even a good one.
“You don’t know me. I’m into working out now.” He smiled proudly. “I’ve put on ten pounds — all muscle — since you went away. I work out every day.”
He pulled up his sleeve and flexed his bicep — it was the size of a baseball, larger and more defined than the mango Teddy had displayed the last time he’d flexed. His shoulders were starting to bulk up, too, like a man’s.
“Look!” Teddy pulled up his shirt to display the beginnings of cut pectorals and a six pack.
“Jesus, Teddy! I’m impressed.”
Teddy dropped his shirt and resumed his self-defense.
“One day early in the semester, when I’d just transferred over, I was in gym class. I was watching some of the Thai kids workout — a martial art called Muay. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Anyway, I didn’t think I was staring — and I certainly didn’t mean anything by it — but they took it the wrong way. Thought I was, I don’t know, putting them down in the way I was looking. Regardless, from that day on, they’ve had it in for me.”
“I know what that can be like. I had something like that in high school. First it was my foreign name, then it was ...” He stopped himself, not wanting to bring his dead brother into this. “What about the stuff in your locker?”
“Part of their campaign to mess with me.”
Jens stared into his eyes. “I believe you.” He grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.
“So, Dad,” began Teddy, in a tone that reminded Jens of when he wanted something, “do you think I could come and live with you?”
Teddy’s request was just what Jens had been hoping for but hadn’t expected. He was encouraged, knowing that the court most often took the dependent’s wishes into consideration. He hoped that Teddy’s preference would be enough to convince the judge to award Jens custody, but he was prepared to drag out Vivian’s dirty laundry in order to win custody and protect his son.
Taking Teddy up to the lodge on Black Mountain would remove him from the Thai threat as well as Laurent’s until he was caught, and give Teddy a fresh start. There was a good school nearby in North Conway, he’d learned on Google, and Jens could keep close tabs on his son, who he knew would be facing some rocky roads ahead — in addition to separation from his mother.
This was the best news he’d had to date. It went a long way toward dispelling the depression triggered by Laurent’s attack.
There was still the problem of how Jens would write one-handed, but he was certain he’d find a solution. He warned himself not to take Nola for granted. He knew he’d handled her introduction to Teddy poorly. Meanwhile, the prospect of getting his son back was all that he needed to feel like he was on a roll.
________
Teddy devoured the breakfast Nola brought. Seeing how hungry he was, she offered to bring him another, but Teddy begged off until she saw through his shyness and fetched him a second, for which he was grateful. Jens thought they were getting off to a good start. He’d need them both in the months to come.
Dawn brought an assault of medical personnel to Jens’ room, and Jens’ improved condition and the demands of triage facilitated his early release. Teddy was sent home with Ferdie to await the results of the custody hearing, but not before thanking Nola and hugging his father goodbye.
Chapter Fifty-Two
While Nola showered, Jens stepped out onto the deck of their room at the inn. Awkwardly gripping his cell phone with his cast hand, he used the other to choose a number from the list of previous callers. His injured arm — wrapped in plastic thanks to Nola — had given him little bother aside from a dull, aching pain.
The call was to Dr. Reese, the assistant principal at Oyster River High, to cancel their meeting, explaining that after today Teddy would likely be living with Jens in Jackson and attending school in North Conway. Jens told Reese he would advise him of the results of the custody hearing, adding that State Trooper Morrison would be coming around to check into the Thai students’ involvement with the drugs found in Teddy’s locker.
“Why would she be doing that?” asked Reese suspiciously.
“Because,” answered Jens, suppressing his anger, “you disregarded the explanation of a boy who’s never been in trouble with the law, in favor of reputed gang-bangers.”
“Are you referring to the Thai students your son accused of planting the drugs?”
“I am.”
“That’s a lot of suppositions there, Mr. Corbin.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”
“I don’t know what stories Theodore has been feeding you, but I can tell you, as the chief disciplinarian here, that his record has been less than exemplary. In fact, if you’d bothered to keep our appointment, I would have told you about the numerous detentions he accrued this semester, two for fighting, and one for disobeying a teacher. Were you aware of this?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
Jens fumed for a moment before answering sharply.
“Thank you for being candid with me, Dr. Reese. I’ll follow up with you on whether or not he’ll be returning to Oyster River.”
________
Shortly before two o’clock, Nola pulled her Beetle up to the curb at the district courthouse in Dover, squeezed Jens’ hand for good luck, and drove off in search of a Starbucks where she could work on her script, fueled by an endless supply of coffee. Jens was to call her cell when he was finished.
Vincent, dressed smartly in a dark suit and cashmere topcoat, was waiting for him at the door of the brick courthouse, a hybrid of municipal architecture from the 90s grafted onto an edifice of indistinct earlier origins. He held the door for Jens, careful not to jar his cast, which Jens cradled protectively.
“You’re a lucky man, Jens, from what I hear. Your guardian angel was working overtime. Larry, our investigator, talked to his contacts on the Portsmouth PD. A few more minutes in that icy water and ....”
He paused dramatically.
“Now, the good news. Larry can tie Vivian to Laurent as recently as last night.”
As Vincent talked, he led Jens along a stale-smelling corridor banked by courtrooms, where other hearings were being conducted. Interspersed, uniformed marshals stood guard, bracing those who sought to enter, checking their bags and keeping order.
On wooden benches flanking the courtroom doors, taciturn plaintiffs and defendants sat awaiting their turns, the mothers cradling babies and dandling kids too small to be left home. An air of pinched circumstances floated amid their desperation.
“Any update on Laurent’s whereabouts?” asked Jens.
“Not from Larry. He’s waiting to hear back from the FBI. What’s our friend Ferdie have to say?”
Jens shook his head. “He slipped the BOLO. Ferdie thinks he could be in Canada by now.”
Vincent paused his client at the door to the courtroom. He brushed some imaginary lint from Jens’ suit lapel.
“Look, Jens, you’re going to play it cool in there and let me do all the talking and negotiating — no recriminations shouted at your soon-to-be ex-wife, no soft-hearted forgiveness either. She stole from you, cheated on you, gaslighted you, maybe even put your son in the crosshairs — now she’s here to bury you, make you pay for everyt
hing mean and unfulfilled in her life.”
He overrode Jens’ attempt to object.
“It’s not your fault. You’ve been the good guy, always played by the book, loved her, took care of her and your son, all the while sustaining a difficult career with no support from her. We show no mercy!” he concluded dramatically, winking at the marshal at the door.
Jens, stunned by Vincent’s vehemence, nodded ambiguously.
“All right,” Vincent said, straight-arming the door, “let’s do this!”
________
Jens wondered if Vincent made that speech to all his male clients, or just to him because of their friendship. It hardly seemed professional. Then he caught sight of Vivian, and everything Vincent had warned him of flew from his head. Her back to him as he approached, she was deep in huddled conversation with a man Jens barely noticed — her lawyer presumably.
Her chestnut hair, grown longer and fuller as though licensed by his absence, fell to her shoulders, vivid against her cream-colored silk blouse. He recognized the blouse as the one she reserved for their special occasions: anniversaries, Christmas, birthdays. Flowing sleeves accentuated her graceful arms, the padded shoulders counterbalanced by a plunging neckline. He came alongside her table, oblivious to Vincent tugging at his sleeve, pulling him toward their side of the courtroom.
Jens willed her to look up, but she did not, obstinate as always.
“Mr. Corbin,” growled the judge. “Would you mind taking your seat, sir? I’ve got a busy docket this afternoon. Your case is one of many.”
Jens tore his eyes from Vivian and managed to stutter an apology.
“Sorry, your honor, ah — Judge Neadeau,” he said, recognizing his former fraternity brother, despite the overlay of time thickening his features, limning his head with silver, and imbuing him with the gravitas that comes from years spent deciding the fate of others.
A look of mutual recognition seemed to pass between them — one that said, see what we’ve become? It’s not so bad, you a writer, me a judge.
