Night Swimming

by Robin Schwarz

  “In the meantime,” Charlotte retorted. “I get to spend one more wonderful weekend here at the Ritz.”

  “Listen, I’m gonna go upstairs right now and make sure everything is in order for you on Monday. I promise you there’ll be no mistakes then.”

  He left Charlotte holding her toothbrush. She really had nothing else to pack.

  “Forget about it, Char. I’ve got good news for you anyway, and who knows? This may all end up for the better.”

  “Yeah, another night in the slammer can only mean I was born lucky.”

  “Tom can get the tickets and passport by tomorrow, Sunday at the latest. We can get you on a flight to Italy Monday night. At least now you won’t be hanging around Gorham for two days having to answer a million questions. You could slip up and ruin everything. Try to relax. You’ll be gone on Tuesday. Think about that.”

  “Tuesday! Jesus, that’s the day I go before the judge.”

  “Well, you’re going to be uncharacteristically late.”

  “MaryAnn, how will Dolly and Skip know what’s going on? Please call Dolly; tell her to tell Skip that I’ll be in Italy on Tuesday.”

  “I’ll try, but I have to make all these phone calls away from my house. We have to be really careful now, Charlotte—really careful.”

  “What time do I leave Monday?”

  “I don’t know. I have to look at your ticket. It’s at night some time.”

  “And what about my hotel? Did Tom or anyone set up a hotel for me?”

  “It’s all taken care of. I can’t tell you where you’re staying. Frankly, I don’t even know. They won’t tell me, either. But I know they’ll give you enough money to cover yourself until you’re settled. Tom’s family has some connection over there in the exporting business. God knows what they export—body parts, probably. No matter, I’m supposed to give you the number. They can help you.”

  “I better write this down.”

  “No! Don’t write anything down! The last thing we need is some guard or janitor discovering your travel plans under the mattress. Don’t worry, we’ll go through it all again on Monday.”

  “All right. You’re right; I’m not thinking clearly.”

  “I’ll pick you up Monday morning. In the meantime, I’ll find a motel for you to stay in. We have to make it seem like you’re settling in and waiting for your arraignment. It’s better if you don’t stay at my house, Charlotte; things could look suspicious. The cops may want to know if I knew anything about your plans.”

  “No, I should absolutely stay at a motel.”

  “Listen, I’m feeling really bad about something.”

  “What?”

  “Tom and I promised Clare three months ago that we’d take her up to Niagara Falls for her birthday weekend. This is the weekend, and there’s nothing I can do to get out of it. I feel awful.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I won’t be here to visit you in this dreary place. I’ll be on some boat called Maid of the Mist, having a bad-hair day, I’m sure.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. You’ve done so much for me, MaryAnn. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you properly. I don’t even know if I’ll ever see you again. You realize, after I do this, I can never return home to the United States.”

  “I hadn’t really thought of that. That’s right. God, how do you feel about leaving here, knowing you can’t return?”

  Charlotte paused, thinking about all the things she wouldn’t see again. “I’ll miss the way the leaves turn color here, and the way the apple blossoms smell in May. I’ll miss the way the snow covers the red barns in the farmers’ fields. I’ll miss all the ladies here who loved me. I’ll miss Dolly and you, and God, I hope, I hope that Skip will find me. I can’t even think about how much I would miss Skip. But you know, for all the people I’ve met and for all the sweet ladies of Gorham, I have a place to go when I feel the loss, the sadness and wonderful nostalgia of all that. I’ll have a place that will bring back a happiness that’s so special, so perfect, that when you feel it, it will almost hurt for all its sweetness.”

  “Where is this place, Charlotte?”

  “My heart, MaryAnn—the place is in my heart.”

  MaryAnn got up and gave Charlotte a hug. She didn’t want Charlotte to see the tears welling up in her eyes. So, holding tight, unwilling to unlock her embrace, she turned and whispered into Charlotte’s ear, “I’ll really try to sneak away from Tom to call Dolly tonight, Charlotte.”

  “And don’t forget to tell her to tell Skip.”

  “Right.”

  “God, this almost feels like good-bye.”

  “No, this is just a run-through. The real one will be terrible. Listen, have a great weekend. See you Monday.”

  She turned to Charlotte one last time as she was leaving. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention, all the girls want to give you a getting-out-of-jail party. Haddie even made a cake complete with marzipan bars running top to bottom and a jail door that actually opens up. I saw it; it’s really quite good. The door is made out of Lifesavers. Who’d have thought our own Haddie Bryce was nearly that clever? Anyway, it’s all arranged for Monday at three in the afternoon, so don’t make any plans.”

  Charlotte smiled. “I’ll try to keep my calendar free. By the way, where will this gala event take place?”

  “Bickfords,” MaryAnn yelled back. Charlotte almost keeled over from laughing so hard. It was as good as she’d felt in days.

  CHAPTER 73

  ON MONDAY MORNING, at last, Makley, Hobbs, a guard, and MaryAnn stood outside Charlotte’s cell for the final time. The guard slipped the key into the hole and turned it as if he were cranking up an old Victrola. At least that was how it sounded to Charlotte. Like music to her ears. She stepped out and took in a big gulp of air.

  “How does it feel?” MaryAnn asked.

  “It feels great. Just great.”

  “Well, let’s get out of here. I brought some clothes you can change into.”

  “Yeah, right upstairs there’s a bathroom. Feel free to use it,” Makley said, touching Charlotte ever so gently on the shoulder. “I just want to wish you good luck, Charlotte.” Charlotte looked puzzled, even slightly worried. “On your arraignment and everything.”

  “Oh, right, right. Thanks,” she said.

  “Seems you got a lot of people rooting for you, and I just wanted to tell you that I’m one of them.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Makley.”

  “And that goes twice for me, Charlotte. Good luck with everything,” Hobbs added. He was so goofy, Charlotte half expected him to say ‘shucks’ and kick the dirt. But the truth was, she would kind of miss Hobbs, too.

  They ascended the stairs, and Charlotte went to change. She looked just fine in MaryAnn’s paisley skirt and yellow blouse, in spite of the fact that they were too big on her. She emerged from the bathroom, and MaryAnn smiled. “You skinny mini,” she said without the least bit of jealousy. And then they followed the long hallway out to freedom.

  There, waiting on the steps, the walkways, and even the street, were hundreds of women with signs celebrating Charlotte’s release. They waved Charlotte on as she and MaryAnn got into the car and drove off to the motel where she would stay until it was time to go.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if those ladies mint a commemorative stamp in your honor, Charlotte,” MaryAnn joked.

  “So tell me, tell me,” Charlotte said, quickly changing the subject. “What did Dolly say?”

  “Charlotte, I must have called Dolly fifteen times, but she was never home.”

  “What?”

  “She wasn’t home. I didn’t have Skip’s number, and I remember Dolly saying something about his phone being turned off because he was moving.”

  “So neither of them know of my plans yet?”

  “No. I even called Dolly this morning before coming over to the court, and there was still no answer.”

  “She must be with Dr. Cohen. He has a place
in Palm Springs. They go there now.”

  “I’ll keep calling her. If we don’t get through by tonight, I’ll try tomorrow. Maybe I can track down Dr. Cohen in Palm Springs.”

  “Yeah, there shouldn’t be more than two hundred Dr. Cohens in Palm Springs.”

  “Well, at least I can let her know you’re safe.”

  “And tell her to tell Skip, too.”

  “Of course. But it has to be done very discreetly. I have to keep making these calls from outside the house. We can’t take the chance of having them traced back to my house. Ever.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  They drove silently to the motel for the rest of the trip. Clearly, Charlotte was anxious to get the news to Skip. Everything was happening so fast, and already it seemed that things were falling through the cracks. She hoped this wasn’t an omen.

  They finally arrived at the Pine Tree Motel. It was a broken-down building with twenty-three connecting units.

  “Sorry, Char, the Days Inn was booked. Just think of it as a pickup place.” They both laughed at the irony of that. “You know what I mean. Besides, it’s not like you actually have to spend any quality time here.”

  The desk manager barely looked at them as he read his list of rules. “No partying, no drinking in the parking lot, no nonpaying guests, and no johns coming in and out all night,” he muttered, as if that were going to ruin Charlotte’s evening. “There’s a pay phone in the parking lot and a soda machine at the end of the last unit. It’s thirty-four dollars a night, paid in advance. Any funny business, you’re out.”

  Charlotte looked at MaryAnn, thinking, I don’t care if the cops get suspicious; I’m going to your house. But she handed him the cash, took the key, and left, the torn screen door hitting the jamb like a fist on a table.

  “Wanna see my room?” she asked MaryAnn. “It’s a rhetorical question. You’re coming in with me.”

  The room was as unpleasant as the rest of the joint. A faded spread hid the stains on the bedcovers, and an orange linoleum floor creaked pitifully when stepped on.

  “Oh, look, MaryAnn, a safety paper across the toilet. I feel like I’m in the admiral’s suite.”

  “Come on, Charlotte, it’s not even one night.”

  “Still, I’m a delicate flower,” she joked.

  The yellowed blinds were broken and would not go up. Just as well. The Formica table poised at the side of the bed sported a bouquet of plastic flowers. The only light in the room was a bare overhead bulb. The bathroom had a fluorescent light, which glared down ruthlessly, exposing every possible human flaw.

  “If I didn’t know better, MaryAnn, I’d say you were still mad at me.” Both women laughed and collapsed onto the bed to go over the plans once more.

  “You leave tonight after the party. The hotel is taken care of for an unset amount of time. A bank account is set up in your name, Lila Nata, at the Bank of, bank of...I can’t remember. I’ll give the information to the driver who picks you up tonight. There’s not a lot of money in it, but it will see you through until you connect with Tom’s family in the export business. They’ll set you up doing something so you have money coming in. Joey, the guy taking you to the airport, will give you a couple of thousand just to have some pocket money. You can get it changed in Italy. You’re on an eleven o’clock flight. That means you arrive in Rome at twelve noon the following day. A man will be waiting for you at the airport holding a cardboard sign with your name on it. He’ll drive you to the hotel. You should get there around two after clearing customs and all.”

  “Do you have the passport and the tickets?”

  “I’ll give them to you later. The less time you have them, the better. As I said, Joey, one of Tom’s uncles, is picking you up here at eight tonight to take you to Logan. He’ll be driving a blue 1998 Ford Taurus.”

  “My God, this is better thought out than Three Days of the Condor. ”

  “And then, my dear, you will be on your way. Don’t call for a while. If there is any suspicion that we had anything to do with your sudden disappearance, they could tap the lines, or worse, arrest us. Jesus, listen to me. I’m beginning to sound like a Barzini.”

  “Okay. I won’t call right away.”

  “Really, Charlotte.”

  “I know, I know.”

  Unfortunately, so did everyone else who had tried to help Charlotte. It was unclear how the rumor started. An overheard conversation? Airline tickets peeking out of MaryAnn’s pocketbook at the beauty salon? Charlotte talking in her sleep? However it started, gossip whetted the insatiable curiosities of the ladies of Gorham. But the rumor stayed tight within Charlotte’s close family of admirers. The women didn’t even tell MaryAnn they knew what they knew.

  MaryAnn continued, “So, Charlotte, you know that if the cops make the connection, they’ll be all over this. God willing, they won’t put two and two together, and if they do, they’ll think this isn’t the kind of stuff the Barzini family gets involved with. Racketeering, big money, murder, but not something as small as hiding a local woman who screwed up. Hopefully, they’ll think that the mob has nothing to gain by helping you and dismiss it as ridiculous.”

  “But how will I find out about Skip and Dolly?”

  “I’ll call you in Italy from a phone outside the house. I don’t know when exactly. First I have to find out where you’re staying. And I have to do that with great prudence. As for you, Char, don’t make any calls, period.”

  “All right, I won’t,” Charlotte said.

  “And no complaining about what your picture looks like on your passport. I remember the first license we ever got together, you were so unhappy with your picture, you made them do it over three times. They finally kicked us out.”

  “Hey, all that’s changed. I accepted my mug shot without a moment’s hesitation.”

  “Your maturity continues to astound me,” MaryAnn teased. “And don’t forget your name. When security asks, ‘Lila, could you open your bag?’ don’t forget you’re Lila.”

  “Right. I’m Lila. Lila Nata.”

  “Any questions?”

  “Nope. None.”

  “Then why do you have that look on your face like something went down the wrong way?”

  “I just wish Dolly and Skip knew what was going on.”

  “I’ll try again tonight. Don’t worry. We’ll get in touch.”

  “So now what, MaryAnn?”

  “Wanna take a ride around Gorham for old times’ sake? Reminisce about all the places we used to get in trouble?”

  “You were the one that got in trouble.”

  “Not me,” MaryAnn insisted, putting on her coat. “You were the one that got caught kissing Jimmy Swenson in the locker room.”

  “Yeah, well, what about Mrs. Kleem? Remember when you put cleaning fluid in her perfume bottle?”

  “Me? As I recall, that was you.”

  “Perhaps we both had a hand in it. God, what was it called again...?”

  “My Sin. Jesus, MaryAnn, how can you forget that?”

  “I think I blocked it.”

  “Yeah, we got in big trouble for that little perfume prank.”

  “Oooo, big trouble,” Charlotte recalled. “No Magnum, PI, no allowance, and no playing with you ever again.”

  “For me, too. What were our parents, crazy? As if they could make that stick?”

  The two women giggled like young girls as they exited the room. They left a wake of light, lyrical laughter vanishing ever so sweetly behind them, as if no time had passed at all.

  CHAPTER 74

  EVERYONE WAS AT BICKFORDS. People from the bank, the Ladies’ Auxiliary, the Horticulture Club, the DAR, the church bingo brigade, MaryAnn, Charlotte’s old assistant Al, Edgar Halfpenny, Hobbs, Makley, and even Bloomberg was there. Bickfords was jammed with friends and memories.

  It struck Charlotte as somewhat ironic that here she was again, approximately a year later, having yet another going-away party at Bickfords. Of course, no one knew this except Mar
yAnn. Or so she thought. Here they were, the whole female contingent of Gorham gathered around, celebrating Charlotte’s bravery and nerve and willingness to do the unthinkable: to break the barrier of boredom and try to grab that elusive ring of happiness. As scary as the proposition was, she had done it: Charlotte Clapp would not die with her music still in her.

  Al made his way over. He was awkward and curious and hadn’t a clue how to begin the conversation. So Charlotte made it easy.

  “How’s the job going, Al?”

  “Good, Charlotte. They made me president, you know.”

  “I didn’t know that. Kelly hated you.”

  “I know. That’s what’s so funny about it. He’s in jail for helping his brother-in-law launder money, and I’m in his leather chair with the big window. It’s killing him, I’m sure.”

  “So now you open and close the vault?”

  “After you left, they changed the system. Everything’s computerized now for security purposes.”

  Inappropriate as it was, this made Charlotte giggle.

  “When I think about how many times Kelly bullied you and made you the fool... Maybe there is a God out there, Al, making sure things get evened up at the end. I guess they’d be called the ‘getting even’ gods! Yeah, that sounds about right.”

  Edgar Halfpenny came by to say hello.

  “I missed you, Miss Clapp.”

  “Thank you, Edgar. I’ve always wanted to tell you, it was a nice thing you did, giving your money to the Timmy fund like that.”

  “You know, it was nothing. I didn’t need it, and other people did. I just don’t feel like I did anything that anyone else in this room wouldn’t have done.”

  “Oh, Edgar, that’s where you’re wrong. You are one of the special ones. You won’t be waiting in line when it’s time to go to heaven.”

  “Good, because I hate lines.”

  Happy and Stan Turner interrupted Halfpenny by offering Charlotte a taste of the baloney roll-ups being served. Edgar excused himself to get something to drink and went off grumbling about there being a line at the punch bowl.

  Charlotte continued meandering through the crowd, noticing the new calendar posted over the cash register. (This year’s theme was Flowers of North America.) She noticed Ernie Amison next to the bowl of mints, hoarding them with his fat, sausagelike fingers. And then there were the deep-pink vinyl stools that spun endlessly at the counter. And who could overlook the little tents propped up on every table, heralding the early-bird special? Dinner, half price if you eat it before lunch. Everything that once bothered Charotte only made her smile tonight.