Crazy in Chicago

by Norah-Jean Perkin

  Thoughtfully she rounded up her clothes scattered about the living room. She’d better get dressed and get home quick in case Cody called.

  * * *

  The words on the computer screen blurred. Cody blinked once, twice, and looked again, but the words remained as stubbornly blurred as they had only moments before.

  He slumped back into his chair. Lack of sleep was slowly eroding his ability to do anything. Thinking, driving, and now even reading. And the problem was, he didn’t know what to do about it. Investigating his disappearance was all well and good, and would probably help him in the long term. But he needed help now. He’d tried everything. Everything, that is, except pills. Pills and a return to doctors.

  He stared hard at the screen, willing the words to come into focus. Finally they did. He sat forward and started to type again, only to have the words fade away again.

  He slammed his fist onto the desk and dropped back into the seat. Who am I trying to kid? Insomnia is only part of the story. It’s worry that’s eating at me. Worry that I’m losing my mind, once and for all! Worry that I’m turning into the same kind of strange and irresponsible man as my father!

  And worry, he acknowledged, that he would have to leave Roberta behind. Either because he was unfit for a relationship with anyone, or because he attacked her beliefs concerning aliens in public.

  He blinked again and reread the opening lines of the opinion piece he was writing to end his series. While the individual stories that made up the series had all been written as objectively as possible, he’d been asked to conclude with an article outlining his opinion about whether or not aliens were visiting Earth.

  He frowned. He couldn’t help it. He just didn’t believe aliens and UFOs existed anywhere but in individual people’s minds, any more than he believed that dragons, leprechauns and fairies existed outside of fairy tales. Certainly, he and Roberta had agreed to accept their differences in this area. But would she feel the same way about a public attack on the ideas she supported and the organization she worked for?

  He raked his fingers through his hair and stood up. There were too many problems to deal with; in his sleepless condition, he couldn’t cope, much less think clearly.

  His stomach growled, reminding him he’d eaten and drunk nothing since waking. And it was already after eight o’clock. He left his cubicle and headed for the food and drink machines that stood in for a cafeteria.

  Returning a few minutes later with a cup of black coffee and a chocolate bar, he noticed Nate heading for his office. Seeing the city editor reminded Cody that he wanted to ask him about Erik’s background.

  Cody frowned. After his discussion with Allie, he’d tried to dismiss the psychic’s comments about Erik. No matter that Allie’s behavior had seemed a little odd, that she had obviously been disturbed by his questions. Erik was her husband, and she loved him. Cody supposed that he might have been disturbed by similar questions in a similar situation.

  But the voice in his head, that was something else. He couldn’t say for sure that it had been Erik’s voice. But why had Erik stared at him with such cold fury? And what was it he was supposed to leave be?

  The memory of the voice sent a chill down Cody’s spine. Maybe it had nothing to do with Erik. But he couldn’t let it go.

  Cody followed Nate and tapped on the open door to his office. “May I come in?”

  “Sure.” The small, gray-haired Nate looked far too roly-poly to be an inquisitive and demanding city editor. But anyone who underestimated Nate usually ended up assigned to the night beat for a long, long time. Little escaped his sharp assessment.

  Nate continued perusing the notes and telephone messages in his in-basket while Cody settled himself against a long, hip-high table covered with page proofs. He sipped his coffee, then grimaced.

  “I’m finishing up that opinion piece today to conclude the alien series,” Cody ventured.

  Nate didn’t look up. “Good. Response to the opening article has been great. Circulation says all the boxes in the downtown area were cleaned out. If this keeps up, we’ll be boosting production.”

  Nate tossed the messages to one side. He rubbed his pudgy hands together. Behind his glasses, his blue eyes lit up. “Aliens! Who would have thought it?”

  Cody shrugged. “Well, you’ve seen the statistics. As many Americans believe in aliens as believe in God. Maybe more. What can you say?”

  Nate grinned. “Hallelujah and praise ‘em all—as long as it ups circulation.”

  Cody’s hand tightened on the cup. “Erik’s photos for the first story really drew attention.”

  “Oh yeah. Especially that one of that alien abductee clutching his daughter. From the look on his face, you’d think he was expecting an alien to grab her any minute.”

  Nate sat back in his chair, his hands on his stomach. He chortled. “I don’t know how he does it, but Erik never misses. He always catches something in his photos that no one else does.”

  Erik nodded. “For a guy who shows so little emotion, it’s hard to believe.”

  “Maybe. But he’s been that way right from the start. You saw those photos he took to go with Allie’s columns on your disappearance. Even the one of your abandoned car—I’ve never seen a photographer capture mood and mystery like that before.”

  “Speaking of Erik, how’d he come to work here? I know he wasn’t here before my . . .” Cody gulped, and forced himself to spit out the words he hated saying. “Before my disappearance. By the time I came back to work, he’d become a fixture.”

  Nate paused; his brow puckered. “Ah, yes. I remember. Erik showed up the day George Aiken retired from the photo department. You remember George? Well, Erik showed up that morning with his portfolio. It was great. Doug and I hired him on the spot.”

  “I understand he’d been working in Australia?”

  “Yeah. Sydney. The Sydney Examiner, for about five years I believe.”

  Cody chose his words with care. If Nate thought there was a reason behind Cody’s inquiries, he’d hang on until he’d unearthed the answer. The trick was not to raise his suspicions.

  “So, I take it you checked his references?” Cody sipped his coffee and looked out the window as if the answer was of no interest to him.

  “Didn’t have to. I saw his portfolio. And he’d worked for a guy I met in Hawaii a few years ago.”

  “That’s a little more trusting than you normally are,” Cody observed.

  Nate snorted. “What’s with all this concern about Erik and his references? You know, Allie came in with much the same questions a few weeks after Erik started here. The next thing I knew, she married the guy.”

  Cody struggled to keep the surprise from showing on his face. Why didn’t Allie tell me that? Why had she, too, been concerned about Erik’s background? Had the psychic’s warning about Erik rattled her, too?

  Nate stopped. His eyes narrowed. “You aren’t considering some kind of business venture with Erik, are you? Something that would take you away from the paper?”

  Cody forced himself to laugh. “Oh, yeah. It’s the first thing on my agenda.” He straightened. “I’m not ready to throw in the towel on reporting yet. I don’t think Erik is, either.”

  Nate scowled. “I hope not. Because you’re my best reporter, and he’s the best photographer here.”

  “I’ll have to remember that the next time I ask for a raise. No, it’s nothing like that. Just curious, that’s all. You know how little Erik says.”

  “Yeah.”

  Cody stood up and headed for the door. “I’d better get back to that opinion piece.”

  “Fine. Oh, yeah, there’s something else that might interest you.”

  Cody pivoted at Nate’s parting comment. “What?”

  Nate sat back in his chair. “Well, I told you Erik started the day George retired. I just thought of something else. It was also the day the police found your car abandoned on Lake Shore Drive. I remember, because I sent Erik and Allie out to look at it. S
ome coincidence, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Cody turned away. “Some coincidence.”

  Between Allie’s questions about Erik, and Erik’s starting date, there was just a little too much coincidence, thought Cody as he headed back to his desk.

  And I don’t like coincidences. Especially coincidences that involve me.

  * * *

  Rush hour traffic had ended by the time Roberta hit the road. As she tooled along, enjoying the freedom of no congestion and still balmy morning breezes, she noticed a familiar street sign to her right. Allie and Erik’s street.

  On a whim, she turned. She hadn’t planned to visit Allie this morning, but why not? Cody had already spoken with Allie, but perhaps he’d missed something. Reporter or not, it was easy to overlook important factors when you were personally involved. With a new baby, Allie was bound to be up. Garnet was likely already mad because she was late for work, so another half hour wouldn’t make much difference.

  She slowed down and peered out the open window, looking for Allie and Erik’s building. Roberta didn’t know the number, but she knew she’d recognize the building on sight.

  There it was, on the other side of the street. She pulled into the first parking space available, in front of a dry cleaners.

  After a quick look up and down the street, Roberta ran across and into the lobby. A tenant let her in and she took the elevator to the fifth floor. She knocked at the apartment door, and waited. A moment later, Allie opened the door, a blanket-wrapped bundle in one arm. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Roberta Vandenburg. Your friend, Cody Walker, brought me here a few days ago.”

  Allie blinked.

  “Bobbi,” Roberta offered quickly. “I’m Cody’s next-door neighbor. Remember?”

  Allie frowned. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry. Forgive me. I’m a little frazzled today. Come in.”

  Roberta followed her inside, then looked at Allie carefully.

  She did, indeed, look haggard, in contrast to the fresh glow she’d exuded only days before. Her auburn hair stuck up on one side, and deep purple valleys under her eyes marred her creamy complexion. The man’s cotton shirt she wore over a pair of tattered jeans had never seen an iron.

  “Is this a bad time? I wanted to talk to you about Cody, but I can come back some other time if it’s not good for you.”

  “Oh, that’s all right. Let me just put Star down in her crib. She’s finally gone to sleep.”

  Allie headed for the bedroom. A moment later she reappeared. She gestured to Roberta to sit down, then plopped into the couch across from her.

  She sighed heavily. “I think I’m going to die. This baby’s going to be the end of me.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  Allie frowned. “The doctor says there isn’t. But I don’t know. Star won’t sleep, maybe only a few hours every day, and never longer than twenty minutes at a time. She keeps screaming at odd times, for no reason I can see, and then throws up almost every time I nurse her.”

  Allie looked beseechingly at Roberta. “Do you know anything about babies? Does that sound normal to you?”

  Roberta shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I haven’t been around babies much since I babysat my cousins when I was a kid. I don’t know.”

  “Can I offer you coffee?”

  “No. I won’t be long. I just wanted to ask you a few questions about Cody.”

  “Cody?” Allie frowned again. “What’s he up to now?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that,” Roberta rushed to reassure her. “It’s just, well, Cody’s really tormented by his disappearance last year, and not knowing what happened to him. You remember, he told you he hadn’t been sleeping?”

  Allie nodded.

  “Well, it’s not just that. He’s been having nausea attacks, three, four, even six times a day, and seeing a blue light, especially around his car.”

  “Yes, I know. He told me that the other day.”

  “Oh? He came to see you?” Guiltily, Roberta pretended surprise.

  “Yes. He said he’d gone to see Madame Carabini.” Allie shuddered. “That woman and her warnings. Always did give me the creeps.”

  “So Cody asked you about what Carabini said about Erik?” Disappointment seeped into Roberta. Too bad Cody hadn’t told her.

  “Oh yes.” Allie gazed at a spot just beyond Roberta’s left shoulder. “I’m afraid I couldn’t tell him anything more. There wasn’t anything to tell.”

  Roberta frowned. “Did Cody tell you the first time he saw the blue light occurred when he was holding Star?”

  Allie’s head jerked upwards. Her eyes widened. “No, he didn’t tell me that. Are you sure?”

  “Yes. It was the first time. The other times occurred mostly when he was in his car or near it.”

  “That’s odd. I wonder why,” Allie murmured, then fell into silence.

  No one said anything for a moment or two. Finally Roberta broke the silence. “I’m really worried about Cody. He’s so tired now I’m afraid he’s going to get into a car accident. Worse, I think he’s starting to wonder whether he’s losing his mind.”

  “Has he gone to a doctor?”

  Roberta shook her head. “He won’t go. Says he’s been to more than enough doctors, all for nothing.”

  “Can you—”

  A high-pitched squall from the bedroom cut Allie off. She smiled apologetically. “I’ll be right back.”

  Roberta listened. The baby’s screams ended abruptly, when Allie picked the child up, she assumed. The minutes ticked by; she could hear the sound of diaper tabs being ripped open, and the murmuring of Allie’s voice.

  Roberta glanced around. The paintings that had caught her eye on her first visit captured her attention again. She walked over to the largest one. In shades of metallic purple and silver, it depicted a barren landscape unlike anything Roberta had ever seen. On closer inspection, she noticed the top of what appeared to be an underground barracks protruding from the lifeless ground. A faint, silvery light emanated from an opening at one end.

  She turned towards the second painting, farther along the wall. From here the strangely shiny picture projected a closed in, trapped feeling, like something you’d experience in a prison or enclosed place. The feeling was so strong that Roberta moved closer. It was only then she noted the tiny, almost child-like figure huddled in one corner, head bowed, knees pressed to her chest.

  Horror jolted her. Her mouth dropped just as Allie reappeared, holding Star against one shoulder. She stopped beside the couch, but continued standing, gently swaying and bouncing from foot to foot.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Allie said. “Star cries less if you stand and keep moving while you’re holding her.”

  “It’s all right.” Roberta swallowed, trying to dismiss the horrible sensation the painting had evoked. “Who painted these pictures?”

  “Erik.” Allie shook her head. “I’m going to take them down. I hate them.”

  “Yes.” Roberta shuddered. “I can understand. Wherever did your husband get his ideas?”

  Allie laughed shortly. “Hard to say. Erik is the quietest man I know. Maybe that’s why he’s such a good photographer. It’s the only way he can articulate what’s inside.”

  “Hmm.” Roberta couldn’t help wondering what force or passion inside of Erik provoked these two paintings. In relief she turned away.

  “I’ll leave in a minute,” she said. “I was just wondering if you could think of any way to convince Cody to see a doctor?”

  Allie frowned. “He’s really stubborn.”

  “It’s just, we’ve tried everything else. Did he tell you that he was hypnotized, too?”

  “Yes.”

  Roberta smiled self-consciously. “You see, I work for the Society of UFO Watchers. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Well, because Cody’s disappearance was so odd, and his current symptoms are similar to those experienced by alien abductees, I thought perhaps he’d been abducted by aliens.”

  “What?” Allie
stopped swaying and stared, the child clutched to her chest.

  “I know it sounds far-fetched, but believe me, I’ve talked to enough people who think they’ve been abducted to believe that it can happen. And does happen regularly. Anyway, my boss Garnet Jones hypnotized Cody. He took him back to the night he disappeared . . .”

  “And what did he find out?”

  “Not much more than what the psychic had seen. Cody remembered getting out of his car and seeing a blue light. The next thing he remembered was being in some kind of room. A man bent over him and he could hear voices—human voices—talking in another language. I’m afraid that blew my alien abduction theory.”

  The baby started to fuss. Allie increased the pace of her bouncing. “But Cody was probably relieved?”

  Roberta smiled. “Yes. I think he’d rather have been abducted by the worst terrorists on the face of the Earth than aliens he doesn’t believe in.”

  Star began crying in earnest. With one hand, Allie fished a pacifier out of her pocket and tried to coax the child onto it. She refused, turning down her tiny pink lips, and crying harder than ever.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve taken up too much of your time already. But if there’s anything you can think of, anything at all, to help Cody, please let me know.”

  Allie looked at her searchingly. “You care about him, don’t you? A lot?”

  Heat rushed to Roberta’s face. “Yes.”

  “Good,” said Allie fervently. “He needs someone like you. Someone who cares about him. Maybe now more than ever.”

  * * *

  The ceiling fans whirring overhead did little to cool the heat that had built up inexorably over the morning and into the afternoon. Exhausted, Allie fell onto the couch. She pressed a hand to her aching head. Her fingers came away wet from the sweat pouring down her forehead.

  Allie sighed and shut her eyes. She’d like to fill the bathtub with ice cubes and climb in naked. But there was no point. The second she made a noise—any noise—Star would wake up screaming. Even a shower was out of the question.