Don't Kill The Messenger

by Joel Pierson

  “I had to make sure you were safe, honey. These men are here to help us.” He is right on the verge of earning my respect for saying that, but then he turns to the cop who’s got me and says, “All right, you can take him away.”

  “Take who away?” I answer. “Take me away?”

  Rebecca protests. “No, Daddy—why?”

  “Kidnapping,” he says, and the word clearly sounds as absurd to Rebecca as it does to me.

  “You can’t be serious!” I say to him.

  “You took my daughter from her workplace and drove her across the country. I’m prepared to press charges.”

  “I brought her home to you. That’s why we’re here. I know you had one of your people send me to tell her to come back home.” Two cops hold me back and keep me from presenting my argument directly to Traeger. So I tell the officers, “There’s no kidnapping here. She asked me to drive her here and I did. For God’s sake, look who was driving the car when we pulled up! Kidnappers typically don’t take shifts with their victims.”

  They look to Traeger, who maintains a stony silence, so they don’t release me. Rebecca takes up the charge. “Please let him go. He didn’t kidnap me or hurt me or anything like that. This man is my friend. I asked him to drive me here and he did.”

  To our mutual amazement, nothing happens. In any normal situation, a statement like that from the supposed victim would at least give the arresting officers reason to ease up on the suspect, and yet these men don’t. The realization dawns on Rebecca. “Since these officers aren’t moving after hearing that, I guess there’s no point in talking to them, is there? I guess I need to talk to the person who’s paying them.” She turns back to her father. “Is this the way you want things? You make me come back here, then show me that I can’t trust you. How will that help anything?”

  “You’ll trust me because I’m your father, and I’m looking out for your best interests.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’ve never looked out for anyone’s best interests but your own. Why do you think I was so eager to leave home in the first place? I’ve been to Wyandotte this week. I talked to people who lived through the smog. I know what you did there …”

  “Rebecca, Wyandotte was an unfortunate natural disaster caused by the weather. The plant wasn’t producing anything it hadn’t produced every day of every year of its existence. Did your new friends tell you what the plant was helping to manufacture? Protective gear for the United States military. How many lives would have been lost if we had shut down that plant at the first sign of bad weather?”

  “I know about Consolidated Offshore too, Dad,” she adds, trying to stay strong.

  He maintains a look of composure, but he is clearly surprised by this. He tells her, “Consolidated is our chance to start a new life … with your help.”

  “My help?”

  “You have skills I need to be successful, Rebecca. You’ll live at home with me, help me run the company by day, and take business classes at the college at night.”

  “That’s not why I’m here,” she says. “I came home to go back to school full time during the day and take law classes.”

  “It’s not up to you,” he says calmly. “You know how we operate: my house, my rules.”

  “Well, it doesn’t have to be your house, your rules,” she says defiantly. “I’m not a child anymore. I can live on campus; I can pay my own tuition if I have to.”

  “Yes, that’s true. And I can call the dean’s office and tell them where you got that tuition money. How do you think that would sit with them? With a board of directors that’s made up mostly of church elders? Do you think they’d welcome you back and accept money you’ve made by parading your naked body in front of deviants and lowlifes? Don’t look so surprised, Rebecca. You’re not the only one who knows things. In order to find you and bring you here, I had to learn where you were and what you were doing. And you can bet we’re going to have a very long talk about it.”

  “Daddy, this is crazy. Listen to yourself talk. You have to stop what you’re doing with Consolidated. You’re in danger if you don’t. There are people who will protect their interests any way they can. They killed Jeffrey Casner in Atlanta.”

  “I know that. I also know Casner was careless and overconfident. That’s how they were able to get to him. But look around you. Six off-duty Palisade Heights police officers, working as my personal security force. They’ll protect me and they’ll protect you. Now that you’re home again, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “What about Tristan?” she asks.

  “Who?”

  I wave. “Hello.”

  “Ah, yes, the kidnapper,” he says dismissively. I wish he’d stop calling me that.

  “Daddy, stop it. You know it’s not true.”

  “Mr. Traeger, please,” I say to him, “this isn’t what it seems. I want to clear up this misunderstanding. I swear to you, I never meant Rebecca any harm. The fact of the matter is … I love her.”

  Words are funny things. Sometimes they have a will of their own, and despite everything reasonable and sensible in you that knows not to say them, you open your mouth, and damned if they don’t just tumble out. I love her. Such little words, so seemingly harmless. I look around after those words tumble. Two of the cops look as if they find it terribly sweet. Rebecca wears a look of astonishment. And Calvin Traeger sustains the same impenetrable calm he’s held since the moment we arrived.

  “You love her,” he says, taking a step or two toward me, “is that what you said? You’re telling me that you love my twenty-one-year-old daughter who you met four days ago.”

  And in an instant, calm turns to rage. Without a hint of warning, Calvin Traeger breaks into a run, with fires of hatred burning in his eyes. I watch in amazement as he grabs a gun from one of the officers and stops inches in front of me, the gun primed and pointed right at my face.

  Trying to maintain bladder control, I wait for the expected words from any of the assembled law enforcement officers—Put the gun down or Don’t do it, Mr. Traeger or even Let’s be reasonable about this. But they are clearly paid quite well, and not one of them makes a sound or a move in my defense.

  Rebecca alone sounds the alarm. “Daddy, no!”

  “Well, you listen to me,” he growls at me through clenched teeth. “You don’t love my daughter. I do.”

  “Love is a strong word,” I say, trying to back-pedal. “I mean it in the sense of … of … respect and admiration. In a brotherly way, you might say. Certainly not in a way that … that … suggests anything inappropriate.”

  “I’d better not find out that there was anything inappropriate, because if there was, you know where the first shot will go.”

  To my astonishment, Rebecca dashes over and stands between her father and me. She grabs the hand that holds the pistol and places the gun to her own head. “There,” she says, “you want to play with guns? You want to shoot someone today? Go for it, Daddy. Shoot your little whore of a daughter.”

  “What are you doing?” I whisper to her.

  “Saving your life,” she whispers back. “What were you doing?”

  “Disregarding what turned out to be a very wise deer.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll tell you later. For now, get yourself out of here. I’m not worth risking your life over.”

  “Listen to him, Rebecca,” Traeger says, making me wonder why we were whispering in the first place, with him only inches away.

  “No, Daddy, you listen to me. This has gone far enough. I asked Tristan to drive me here because I thought I needed to go back to college. Then I found out that you were just using him to trick me into coming here to help you. I could’ve turned around right then and there, never even showed up here. But when I learned that people out there might be trying to find you and hurt you, I cam
e here to warn you. Because no matter what’s happened between us in the past, you’re my father and I love you. And yet, here we are, and the fact that you still haven’t put that gun down, even with me at the end of it, scares the hell out of me. Is this what you’ve become since I’ve been away? Someone so desperate for money that human life—the life of your own daughter—doesn’t matter to you anymore?”

  He doesn’t answer, so she raises her voice to address the off-duty cops assembled here. “And you … his so-called security force. In case you haven’t noticed, this man is holding a gun on two unarmed, innocent people just because one of them said he loves the other. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate it if one of you could do something about that.”

  The officer whose gun was taken steps calmly over to Calvin Traeger and retrieves his firearm without a word. Relieved to be out of that moment, I take two steps back, inviting Rebecca with me through a gentle touch on her arm. She steps back as well, and we look at her father.

  “I’m leaving, Dad, and I’m not coming back. You could have done this right. You could have let me go back to school on my terms and then asked me to help you with your business in my spare time. But instead you went for trickery and coercion and guns, and because of that, you get nothing.”

  I’m proud of her determination as she turns away from him. An awkward silence hangs over everyone, so I decide to fill it with awkward words instead. “So, yeah. I would say ‘nice to meet you,’ but given the circumstances, I’ll just leave it at ‘we’ll be on our way now.’”

  Before Traeger can answer, Rebecca says to me, “No, we won’t.”

  “What?”

  “I asked you to drive me to Ohio so I could go back to school, and you did. Now that I’m here, I realize that this is what I need to do. I don’t need my father’s support or the approval of some board of directors. I’ve got the grades to get back in and the tuition money to pay for it, no matter where that money came from. Being with you this week showed me that I’m ready for this, and for that I’ll always be grateful to you, Tristan.” She puts her arms around me; what she’s just said is so surprising, I almost forget to return the embrace.

  “You’re welcome,” I reply, trying desperately to find any words to change her mind.

  “Would you mind taking me to a friend’s house not far from here? I need a place to stay for a while until I can get settled on campus.”

  “Umm … sure. Let’s go.”

  As I walk with her down the driveway, back to the convertible, I feel almost dazed. I knew that I could lose her to her father today, but the possibility that she would reject him and then reject me as well never occurred to me, and it’s making my head throb with pain, a pain that travels down my neck and into my shoulders, and then into—

  Oh God, no … not this, not now—

  But it’s too late to stop it. The pain intensifies, like lightning traveling all through my body. And with it comes information, an assignment. I drop to my knees, crying out in pain, and then end up on my back, with my hands clutching my head. The urgency of this is overwhelming, like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

  Through cloudy eyes, I see confusion all around me. The cops have backed off, probably wondering what’s happening. I see Rebecca turn back to me, hear her call out my name, and then see her run to me. As she kneels down to hold on to me, I hear her father asking, “What the hell’s wrong with him?”

  “It’s an assignment,” she tells him, still holding me. “A mission. This is what happens to him when the information comes in.”

  I’m sure I am quite a spectacle to the seven men in that driveway, but I can’t care. I’m focused on the details I’m receiving, and the feeling of Rebecca resting my head in her lap as she holds my hands and tries to keep me calm.

  As more and more of the facts come in, I realize that I am starting to cry and words are coming out of my mouth. “No … no, I can’t … not like this. It’s too much. It’s too much.”

  Through my tears, I look up at Rebecca, whose expression shows concern and uncertainty. The worst of the pain leaves me, and now I have the knowledge of what I have to do.

  “Tristan,” she says quietly, “what is it? What did it say?”

  As I relate it to her, I can scarcely believe the magnitude of it myself. My throat is constricted, making my words come out barely loud enough for Rebecca to hear. “Cedarsburg, Kansas. There’s 11,000 people who live there. In two days, a tornado will go through the center of town, tearing up everything it touches.”

  “Who’s your contact?” she asks me. “Who do you have to save?”

  There is sheer terror all over my face as I give her my one-word answer: “Everybody.”

  “Oh my God,” she says, obviously understanding the enormity of this mission as well as I. Then, to my surprise, she helps me to a seated position and kneels next to me, saying, “Okay, we’ll have to use the airlines to get there; driving’s too risky, especially if there are tornadoes in the area. And some advance phone calls to the local police and fire departments will aid them in notifying residents. I don’t know if we can convince them to do a full evacuation, but at least they’ll be forewarned.”

  I look at her in amazement as she presents this plan. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying the clock is ticking, mister, and 11,000 people are counting on you. Now, I actually have a friend who’s a storm chaser at the University of Kansas. I can give him a call; he’ll be a big help …”

  Now I’m truly confused. “But … college?”

  “One more assignment. This is a huge job, and you can’t do it alone. College will still be there when we get done.”

  She rises and helps me to my feet.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Traeger asks her. “I forbid you to go with him.”

  “Oh, we’re way past forbidding, Dad. This man needs me, and I want to be with him.”

  “If you walk out of here now, don’t plan on coming back.”

  “Can’t think of a reason why I’d want to.”

  “Make no mistake, Rebecca: if I need your help in the future, I will find you.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up. Have fun finding your oil, and watch your back while you’re at it. You’ve pissed off some really determined fishermen.” She takes me by the hand. “Are you okay to walk?”

  “I think so,” I reply, still confused. “What just happened here?”

  “I’ve essentially just told my father to go fuck himself, and he hasn’t killed either one of us, so I’m calling that a success. Now we’re going back to the car before he changes his mind, and we’re going to go someplace and strategize about how to save those 11,000 people.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “What,” Rebecca says, “you think I’m going to let you have all the fun?”