by Jeff Olah
Again, he was only telling her what he thought she needed to hear. There was nothing he could do to speed up the process; however, if she pulled the listing now, it would just delay the sale and she’d probably lose the buyer anyway. He justified the brief lapse in judgement by telling himself that he’d have all the details within ten minutes of ending the call and would somehow push to get the buyers in early. He’d done it in the past and saw no reason why he couldn’t reproduce the same results for this transaction.
“Alright.” Her voice was warmer now. “Realistically, how many days does this add to our escrow? Now, I’m not looking for pie in the sky numbers; it’s just that I just need to plan my trip and have to get some firm dates.”
“How about I get everything together tonight and give you an update tomorrow morning?”
“Tomorrow?”
Owen rubbed his temples, once again thinking through his response. “I’m planning on making another trip to the property this afternoon, hopefully get an all clear, maybe meet with the buyer’s agent, and …”
“And?”
“And I’d like to make a quick trip home, see my daughter.” He paused a moment. “Something happened at her school today, I guess maybe a shooting or—”
An audible gasp came through the Audi’s speakers. “Owen, this closing is important, but your family is more important. Hang up this phone and go do what you need to do, we’ll reconnect tomorrow.”
There wasn’t really a reason to mention what had happened at Ava’s school, but it felt odd not sharing in light of what was happening out in the world. He needed to know that it was a one-off event and that it wasn’t part of something bigger. “I’ll get it taken care of Joanne, you have my word.”
“Owen, how long have we known one another, what is it now, ten, fifteen years?”
“I’m sure there are days when you feel like it’s been much longer than that.”
Joanne paused once again. “Listen, I trust you and always have. I give you crap every now and again, but you’re like a brother to me. We’ll get this deal closed when the time is right, but for now you need to go be with your family.”
“Thank you, Joanne.”
“One other thing.” There was a hint of playfulness in her voice. “Stop watching the damn news, it’s all crap.”
Owen sat forward in his seat, stretching the stiffness from his lower back. “I sure hope so, this … whatever this is, seems to be everywhere.”
“Media hype, that’s all.”
“Okay,” Owen said, “talk tomorrow?”
“Sounds good.”
Ending the call, Owen breathed out heavily and dropped his head. He could feel the wave of anxiety from ten minutes before starting to return. His wife, his daughter. He needed to get to them, he needed see them, he needed to wrap his arms around them and hug them.
With the engine continuing to idle, he sat up high in his seat and looked out through the windshield. Attempting to quiet his mind and return to the moment, Owen’s attention was pulled to the passenger seat. Another text message, again from Natalie’s phone, lit up the screen and then quickly disappeared.
Hey Dad, it’s Ava. I’m on Mom’s phone. She said Noah gets out early today. We’re going to pick him up and go to Johnny’s for lunch. Can you meet us?
His son. He had been so hyper-focused on all that was falling apart, he’d momentarily lost touch of everything else. Owen opened his phone, checked the time, and then his reminders.
Noah – Early Release – 11:30.
The alert was set to sound in another ten minutes. He would have made it to the school with plenty of time to spare, although that wasn’t what had him twisting. There were moments in his professional life that demanded his full attention, but today, this minor speed bump should not have been one of those things. He was better than this … at least he hoped he was.
Owen shook his head, quickly switched back to his messages and keyed up Ava’s text.
Sure, I’ll meet you guys there … you okay?
His daughter’s response came back before he’d even had a chance to look away. Although with the amount of screen time Ava logged, he wasn’t necessarily surprised. Owen figured that if one day they decided to make texting an Olympic sport, there would be no denying his fourteen-year-old a place on the medal stand.
Yeah Dad, I’m fine. I’ll tell you about it when we get there.
Before tossing his phone back into the passenger seat, Owen typed out one last message, grinning as he hovered over the send button.
Sounds good, see you in a bit.
There was motion in his peripheral vision. People sprinting in from the intersection and crossing the lot. Three men. Two shirtless and bleeding from the face, neck, and hands. They chased a third man off the sidewalk and in between a row of driverless vehicles.
Owen shifted the Audi into reverse, looked over his right shoulder, and began to back out. If what was in the news had truly come to this part of the city, he wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. And now the anxiety of getting back to his family had him unable to focus.
His heart again racing, Owen slammed on the brake, shifted into drive, and reached into the passenger seat. He fumbled for his phone, had a handle on it for a half-second, and then dropped it as his right hand glanced off the center console. Next came the sound of his phone sliding into the valley between the console and the seat.
“NO!”
With the gas pedal pegged to the floorboard he aimed for the east end of the lot, his eyes darting between the rows of cars on the left and the right.
No movement.
Approaching the end of the long aisle, an oversized pickup truck began backing out. It made a wide arc in his direction, showed no signs of braking. Unaware of his presence, the white Chevy Silverado 1500 continued into his path. He didn’t have a choice—either risk sideswiping the larger vehicle or come to a complete stop.
His eyes darting from the white pickup to the rearview mirror, Owen clamped down on the wheel. The man being chased had lost a step to his pursuers, and as he tried to maneuver between a wine-colored minivan and a black Jeep Wrangler, the chase came to an abrupt end. The pair had finally caught the man from behind and now dragged him to the ground.
With the pickup truck beginning to pull away, Owen was momentarily frozen. He sat with his foot on the brake, continuing to watch the scene as it played out fifty yards from his rear bumper. The two shirtless men appeared to be fighting one another, but also attacking the man that lay beneath.
The larger of the two appeared to push the second aside and then dropped his face down onto his helpless victim. For a moment there was a flurry of hands and arms and legs, all moving incongruent of one another, the angles awkward and unnatural. And as the shirtless man pulled his head up, the body below went limp.
As fast as it began, the fight was over.
Owen wanted to look away, but couldn’t. The angered man now leaned back on his knees and turned toward the Audi, his face flushed from eyebrow to chin with a thick layer of red. Adjusting his rearview mirror, Owen narrowed his eyes and tried to bring the scene into focus.
Instantly there was a massive wave of regret.
The shirtless man had a piece of his victim’s flesh hanging from his clenched jaw, and appeared to be forcing it into his mouth. He stared off into the distance and didn’t seem to notice or care that the second man had come back and was now also feeding. The bloodied man was lost to his prize, almost euphoric.
His feeling of regret quickly transitioned into fear, or maybe it was anger. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the emotion. Not necessarily for himself or his current situation, but for something he wasn’t absolutely sure he even understood. Somehow, he knew this was bigger than just a few random occurrences.
Slowly easing his foot from the brake to the gas, Owen noticed a patrol car—lights flashing and siren blaring as it pulled into the lot on the opposite end. He shook his head, breathed in deep through his nose, and
pulled out into the street.
“What the hell is this?”
3
Natalie Mercer attempted to keep her cool as the line of cars continued to grow. She shook her head, turned to her daughter, and then reached for her phone. It didn’t appear that she’d be late, although it would be close. Twenty minutes to travel three miles wasn’t unheard of in this part of the city, but never at this time of day.
Something was different.
She didn’t like it.
Sliding to the left, she lowered her window and leaned out. The early afternoon sun warmed the side of her face, forcing her to squint. Sixty feet ahead, the single line of high-end SUVs and alternative fuel hybrids split near the entrance to the school.
But nothing moved.
She was slowly beginning to come around to the idea that this may not work. That she may have to find another way.
“Mom?” Ava removed her earbuds and laid them in her lap.
Natalie didn’t respond right away. She continued to look out over the motionless sea of vehicles waiting for the answer to come to her. When nothing did, she turned back to her daughter only half focused. “Wait, uh … what?”
“What are we doing? Noah gets out in like five minutes.”
Natalie again checked the time. “Six minutes. But yeah, this isn’t going to work.”
Ava looked from Natalie, to the street ahead, and then back. “Okay, so?”
“Your dad, what’s he normally do?”
Ava furrowed her brow. “What?”
“Your dad, what’s he normally do if it’s backed up like this?” Out of the corner of her eye, Natalie could see that her daughter had turned back to her phone. “Where’d he park that night we were late for your brother’s performance?”
Ava didn’t look up. Instead, she took her left hand and pointed toward the back of the car. “It’s back there, you passed it.”
Again glancing at the time, Natalie breathed out through her nose. It wasn’t necessarily intentional, although the force of her exhalation caught Ava’s attention. It was subtle, but out of the corner of her eye she saw her daughter slowly look away from her phone.
“Okay, yes. You have my full attention.”
With no traffic moving in the opposite direction, she looked over her left shoulder and then back to Ava. “I think I’m going to park and just walk in … be easier for us to get out of here.”
“Yeah mom, I thought you already decided that?”
There was something telling her she needed to make a decision one way or the other and it needed to happen right now. The motherly intuition that she usually ran away from had somehow creeped into her subconscious. She wasn’t quite sure she liked it, but thought that she might want to listen. Just this one time.
One quick glance into the street and then again over her left shoulder, there really was no other choice. Natalie shifted into reverse and quickly backed to within inches of a silver Tesla. The sharp sound of a horn from behind and then she cut the wheel, darting out into the street.
Ava now turned away from her phone. She looked lost—or concerned. It was something Natalie didn’t quite recognize in her usually subdued fourteen-year-old.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” Ava said, “just … it’s nothing.”
Natalie continued to pull to the opposite curb, dropped back into reverse, and completed a clean three-point turn without incident. In her mirror, the man behind the wheel of the late-model Tesla pulled forward, quickly braked, and then threw his hands in the air, his frustration evident as he appeared to shout vulgarities at no one in particular.
“Okay,” Natalie said, motioning toward the street ahead. “Where is it?”
Ava had turned toward her window, but now set her phone in her lap and faced her mother. “Uh, I think you just turn left up here.”
Less than a hundred yards ahead, she now saw the lot she was searching for and a break in the line of unmoving vehicles. Not quite enough for her to squeeze through, but if she came in aggressive enough they’d move—they always did. She knew this in life as well as business. Peppering her depositions with just the right amount of aggression most times worked to her advantage. It wasn’t a tactic she shared with Owen, but one she held in her back pocket nonetheless.
As she accelerated Ava again peered down at her phone. It wasn’t until they reached the entrance to the lot and she saw that Natalie wasn’t slowing that she looked up.
“MOM!”
“Relax, they’ll move.”
Ava shielded her eyes with her hand as the vehicle partially blocking the entrance to the lot noticed them coming and laid on their horn.
Natalie responded with a horn of her own and then a quick flick of her wrist, shooing the man in the massive silver SUV out of her path.
“LET’S GO, LET’S GO!”
Ava dropped her hand and turned back to her phone, but spoke to Natalie. “Mom, you need to calm down, you’re gonna get us killed. And I think we might know that guy.”
Continuing to roll forward, Natalie tapped the steering wheel as the man in the silver SUV began to back away. With not much more than a few inches to spare on either side, she accelerated through the opening and into the lot, quickly scanning the area for a free spot. “Okay, this may have been a bad idea.”
Only looking away from her screen for a moment, Ava motioned toward the northeast corner of the lot. “There’s always spots back there, just go …”
Before her daughter’s voice had completely trailed off, Natalie quickly accelerated and headed for the last row. She knew better than to check the time; the last thing she needed now was another reminder of her current predicament.
Around the last car—a Volkswagen Beetle, the color of a tennis ball—Natalie braked hard and cut the wheel to the left. “You can’t be serious?” She eyed a single spot sixty feet ahead, but even from this end of the lot she could see it was going to be a tight squeeze.
Over her left shoulder, there was a second vehicle entering the lot. They were at least two full car lengths ahead, but it was her spot. There wouldn’t be time to do this again. This was it. “Ava, hold on.”
Natalie punched the gas and avoided glancing back at the other vehicle. Her daughter, in the passenger seat, was again lost to her phone. But for once that was okay, she needed to focus on wedging between the Land Rover and the Mercedes G550, both had parked on the line.
Dropping back and out of sight, Natalie lost track of the other driver as she rolled slowly between the two luxury SUVs. Pulling a bit closer to the Mercedes near her passenger door, she braked hard and turned back to Ava. Her daughter still looked down into her lap, although now she tapped at the screen, her fingers a blur.
Reaching for her own device, Natalie keyed the home button, and checking the time, noticed the line of text messages from Owen. Sixty seconds, no time to read or to respond. Whatever it was would have to wait. She’d get in, get Noah, and get out. Her timeline was stretched thin at this point, but it was far from broken.
Shifting into park, she left the engine to idle. “Ava I’m going, wait here.”
The fourteen-year-old didn’t turn from her phone and instead continued to tap out another message as Natalie removed her seatbelt and stepped out onto the asphalt.
She looked right and found the open gate and the paved walkway that led to the front of the school. Beyond that, an ocean of parents stood in tight groups waiting for their children. And as Natalie made her way through the crowd, the others spoke in hushed tones, pointing toward the front steps of the private elementary school.
Natalie moved around a young petite woman wearing a floral sundress and a yellow floppy hat. She stood on her toes and followed the eyes of the crowd. It took a few seconds, but when she finally realized what it was she was watching, she quickly turned away.
A woman, handcuffed and bleeding from the mouth, had been forced to the pavement by a pair of security officers. She fought against her restraints and look
ed as though she was trying to bite at the arms of the men holding her down. And as the bell that ended the school day rang from the overhead speakers, Natalie turned and started toward the front doors of the school.
Before she was halfway, the crowd had also turned and now moved as one toward the steps leading to the massive front doors of the school. She could push through, maybe somehow hope to get to her son before the rest of the parents reached their children, but then what? Although the doors were open, not a single child or faculty member had exited the building.
“MOM!” Natalie turned toward the voice, instantly recognizing it. Thirty feet back, Ava stood near the open gate holding her younger brother’s hand. “Let’s go, before …” her daughter’s voice again trailed off as she glanced down at her phone.
Back the way she’d come, Natalie moved away from the crowd and quietly hurried along the paved walkway. Between parents still arriving and children exiting from the rear of the school, she weaved her way toward Ava and Noah.
Her nine-year-old sported a wide smile and held his backpack tight to his torso. “MOM … MOM, OVER HERE!”
Natalie slowed as a group of third graders ran through the gate ahead of her, looking to Ava and motioning back toward the school. “What are you doing? Don’t we have to sign him out?”
Ava shook her head, curled up the side of her lip, and tugging Noah’s arm, started back to the parking lot. “He’s not in Kindergarten.”
With a quick scan of the lot, Natalie moved to the driver’s door, slipped in behind the wheel, and waited for Noah to climb in through the rear passenger door. There had to be at least a dozen new vehicles now searching for a spot that didn’t exist. More were out on the street with the same idea. She had maybe ten seconds.
“Ava.”
Her daughter sat half in her seat, the passenger door still open, again staring at her phone. She didn’t respond or even look up.
Quickly glancing in her rearview mirror, Natalie shifted into reverse. “AVA, CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR AND PUT YOUR SEATBELT ON!”
