The Ultimatum

by Nancy Moser

  For Jered”s sake I really do.

  Claire pulled next to Bailey's car, still parked in front of the McFay's house. “Are you sure you don't want me to go with you to the police station?”

  Bailey already had his door open. “Positive. Thanks for the lift.” He did not need an audience to confront his son.

  In spite of living in Steadfast his entire life, Jered Manson had never set foot in the police station. Not that he shouldn't have. He'd done some mighty mischief with Darryl and Moog that should have brought him here, but for some reason, it never had. They used to laugh about that.

  This isn't mischief now.

  No, indeed, this time was different.

  As Jered was led inside by the cop, he spotted Jinko being led beyond the office part through a door. Toward the cells?

  Unfortunately, Jinko spotted him, too. Though he was wearing some plastic-looking cuffs, he whipped his head around. “You keep your mouth shut, kid! Not a word! Not a—” The cop cut him off by giving him a final shove through the door. It closed behind him with a solid ca-click.

  Was Jered going in there, too? Would he be put in a cell with Jinko? He couldn't…that couldn't…no way could he…

  “In here.”

  The cop led him beyond a counter and a desk to an office. Suddenly it became very important to Jered that it had a window. He could see out. He was not being brought to a dark, horrible place where he'd rot away and—

  “Sit.” As the cop sat behind the desk, Jered saw a name tag that said CODY.

  “What's going to happen to me?”

  “Good question. And I'd say it pretty much depends on your answers.” He raised a hand. “But don't say anything yet. Not until your lawyer gets here.”

  My lawyer. There was something damning about those two words. Good people didn't need lawyers. Innocent people didn't need lawyers. Bad people hired them to find loopholes and get them off, so they could hug in the courtroom after the verdict was read and have smug looks on their faces because they pulled one over on the system. Jered couldn't remember the last TV show or movie where a lawyer defended an innocent person.

  But you re not innocent.

  Jered ran his hands through his hair, started biting his fingernails, then finally put his hands under his thighs, needing to hold them captive. At least they hadn't put cuffs on him. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

  Maybe they ran out of cuffs.

  At least Fm not back in a cell like Jinko.

  Maybe they only had one cell.

  At least… At least nothing. He was in big trouble, and no amount of excuses could get him out of it.

  The front door opened, and a man wearing a red polo shirt came in, carrying a briefcase.

  “Willy. In here.”

  The man came into the office. He held out his hand to Jered. “Hi, I'm Willy Bradford. Fm your lawyer. And you are?”

  Jered shook hands but stared, his mouth unable to work. His lawyer? A lawyer named Willy?

  Officer Cody answered for him. “He's Jered Manson.”

  Willy looked up. “Bailey's son, right?”

  “That's him.”

  Willy sat next to Jered, opened the briefcase, and removed a yellow pad and pen. “Have you called his father?”

  “No.”

  “Call him.”

  Officer Cody looked at Jered. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen.”

  He looked back to Willy. “The kid's legal. I don't have to call him.”

  Yeah, he doesnt have to call him.

  Willy put a hand on the edge of the desk. “Come on, Ted, call the boy's dad.”

  “Maybe he doesn't want me to. He never asked me to.”

  Willys right eyebrow rose. “You want us to call your dad, Jered?”

  “Uh…” Yes. No. Maybe.

  He didn't have to answer because at that moment his dad came in the front door.

  At the sight of him, the “no” answer loomed large. Jered turned toward the wall and slumped in his chair. Dorit come in here. Please dorit come in here.

  “Over here, Bailey.”

  Jered didn't see his dad standing in the doorway; he felt his presence there. Maybe this scene would play out like the movies too, with the dad pulling the long-lost son into his arms, forgiving everything.

  “What have you done, Jered? What have you done?”

  Nice seeing you, tooy Dad.

  Jered crossed his arms and didn't look at him. He never, ever wanted to look at him again. “Get him out of here.” He hated how his voice cracked. “Get him out!”

  “Out? What are you talking about?” his dad asked.

  Willy stood and Jered risked a glance. He blocked the sight line between them. “You'll have to leave, Bailey.”

  “Leave? I just got here. I'm not going to—”

  Officer Cody stood too, taking a step toward his dad. “Your boy is eighteen. He doesn't have to see you unless he wants to. And he oesnt.

  “Of course he wants to see me. I'm his father.”

  Jered turned his eyes back to the wall. He couldn't see this, couldn't hear this.

  “Out, Bailey. This is between Jered, his lawyer, and me. Go sit in the waiting area. You can see him later.”

  “But—”

  Jered heard a bit of scuffling and the door close. Maybe a jail cell would be an improvement. His dad couldn't get to him in a jail cell.

  The two men returned to their seats. “Well then,” Officer Cody said. “Some reunion, huh?”

  Jered risked a look.

  The officer leaned on his desk. “You don't have to talk to your father, Jered, but you've got to know he's been worried about you. We all have. We've been trying to find you for months.”

  “I wasn't lost.”

  Officer Cody sat back. “Hmm.”

  Willy spoke next. “Can we get on with this?”

  “Have at it.”

  Willy turned to Jered. “Have you said anything? Implicated yourself in any way?”

  “Uh…”

  “No. He hasn't said anything. And I haven't asked. We were waiting for you.”

  “Good, good.” Willy pointed at Jered. “You be quiet a moment, all right?”

  Jered nodded. Gladly.

  Willy turned to Officer Cody. “Fill me in.”

  It was like he wasn't even in the room. Officer Cody and Jered's lawyer talked back and forth, throwing out words like accessory and complicity Willy had told him not to say a thing, but he was fairly bursting with wanting to talk. Wanting to explain. Surely once they heard how Jinko had duped him and drawn him into the crimes…

  You could have said no.

  Jered found himself shaking his head and stopped the motion. Could he have said no? Step one had led so smoothly to step two. Then three and four. A ton of steps leading to this moment, sitting in this chair, being charged with…with what? It all depended on… “Is Annie okay?”

  The two men stopped talking and looked at him. It was like they'd just remembered he was there.

  Officer Cody spoke first. “I don't know.”

  Willy put a hand on the desk. “We need to know, Ted. Call the hospital.”

  The cop picked up the phone and finally got the right person. “I'm checking on the status of Annie McFay. She was brought in with a gunshot—” He listened a moment. “Okay. Thank you.”

  It seemed forever between his hanging up and the next words. “She made it through surgery. But she's critical.”

  “She's okay?” Jered asked.

  “She's in critical condition.”

  “But she's not…?”

  “Lucky for you.”

  Jered shook his head. “You know I didn't shoot her. Jinko shot her. I wasn't even there. I'd run away from Jinko, toward you guys, toward the car. I'd given myself up.”

  “But because you ran, she got shot.”

  Jered's memory grabbed on to Jinko's words shouted between cruisers: “It's all your faulty kid. ““But I didn't…”

 
“I'm sure you didn't mean to, but because you bolted, everything turned crazy. That's when she was shot.”

  Tears popped up unannounced. “I didn't mean…” He seemed unable to finish a sentence. Why couldn't he finish a sentence?

  Willy put a hand on his arm. “Cut the guilt trip, Ted.”

  “Hey, I was there. You weren't.”

  Jered stood. “I think I'm going to be sick.”

  He got to the men's room just in time.

  Jered was washing his hands when he heard a commotion outside the restroom.

  “But I'm his father!”

  “Go home, Bailey. Now's not a good time.”

  A few more words. Then his father's voice faded.

  Willy came inside. “Tenacious man, your father.”

  Jered realized the water was still running. He shut it off and dried his hands.

  Willy leaned against a sink and crossed his arms. “I'm glad we have a chance to talk privately. You're in big trouble, young man.”

  Jered tossed the paper towel in the trash. “What are they going to charge me with?”

  “That depends on whether Annie dies.”

  Jered shook his head. “She can't die.”

  “This isn't the movies, son. Actually, she can.” He put a hand on Jered's arm. “Annies a nice lady. Let's pray she's okay.”

  “I don't know how to pray.”

  Only after seeing the odd look on Willys face did Jered realize Willy hadn't meant the “pray” phrase literally. Jered scuffed a toe against the floor. “I mean…”

  “No, you're right,” Willy said. “We do need to pray—really pray. As far as you not knowing how? I'm probably not the best… My secretary's always asking me for names of clients and victims to put them on a prayer list of some sort. She's always after me to join in. But hey…” He shrugged and smiled. “Far as I know, there's no art to it or she wouldn't keep asking me. I think you just do it. Say whatever you want.”

  “And God hears?”

  “So it seems.” He put a hand on Jered's shoulder. “It certainly can't hurt. And if it would make you feel better, I'll even venture to let off a few myself.”

  Jered squeezed his eyes tight against tears and suddenly wished he were with someone who knew about God and Jesus and prayer: Annie or even Vasylko. He thought of Vasy and his cross necklace, Annie and her hidden Bible. They'd tried to tell him that Jesus was a way out; they'd tried to warn him. But now it was too late.

  They heard voices outside. Officer Cody stuck his head in the door. “You two coming out?”

  “Just conferring with my client, Ted. Give us a minute.”

  “You can use the office, you know.”

  “We're fine.”

  The door closed. Willy took a deep breath. “Well, this certainly has turned into an interesting conversation—but a good one.”

  Jered had trouble swallowing. “What happens now?”

  “I try to work something out with the police—ifyoure willing to come clean and tell them everything you know about Jinko.”

  “So I'll get off—”

  “Not off. There are consequences to what you did, Jered. But they'll go easier on you if you cooperate.”

  “I don't know…” Jered thought of Jinko's stern eyes, his strong hands. “Keep your mouth shut, kid.”

  “Every bit of information will help.”

  Jered caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The reflection seemed to belong to someone else. What had he become? Where was the real Jered?

  And then he knew what had to be done. He had to find him. Find the real Jered Manson.

  “I'll talk. I'll tell them everything.”

  Twenty-two

  Whether it is favorable or unfavorable,

  we will obey the LORD our God, to whom we are sending you,

  so that it will go well with us,

  for we will obey the LORD our God.

  JEREMIAH 42:6

  CAL SAW THE GLIMMER OF SUNLIGHT through the blinds of the hospital room. Was it morning? He rested his forehead against the hospital bed, his hand grasping Annie's. The sheets smelled of disinfectant. Of other times. Times when he'd sat next to Treena and—

  Annies hand stirred, and he looked up.

  She moaned softly.

  He stood. “Annie?”

  She opened her eyes but didn't look in his direction at first. She looked straight up and blinked.

  “Annie-girl, I'm here.”

  She turned her head. He could tell she recognized him even before she spoke. “Cal?”

  He started to cry and drew her hand to his lips. “It's me. I'm here. You're here. It's going to be all right.”

  She took a deep breath, then winced. “Mmm.”

  “They have Jinko and Jered. They caught them.”

  Her next breath seemed to catch. She let it out. “Avi?”

  “Av's fine. Everyone's fine.” He swallowed. “You're fine.”

  She flinched as if the pain had finally caught up with the fact she was awake. “I was shot.”

  “Yes, you were. But they got the bullet out.” He wasn't about to mention the damage to her stomach, a kidney, or the intestines.

  She didn't say anything. The only sound in the room was the beep-beep of machines monitoring her vitals.

  Suddenly she smiled. “You have more time. You have more time now.”

  “What?”

  Her eyes fluttered. She was still groggy yet looked utterly content. “It worked out. You have more time.”

  “You said something like that at the house. I don't under—”

  Her eyes closed.

  He stared at her frail frame. Come ony Annie! Live!

  It was not a prayer. It was an order.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Susan dressed in her nurse's uniform. She was on duty. That made him feel a little better. “Officer Kendell wants to talk with you.” She cocked her head toward the public areas of the ICU.

  He shook his head. The last thing he felt like doing was rehashing the last two days.

  ‘Til stay with her while you're gone.”

  Not ideal, but doable. He kissed Annie's forehead and left. He found Ken in the waiting room. “Don't you have enough to do talking to Jinko and Jered?”

  “How's Annie?” rine. rine.

  Ken took the hint. “I'll make this as quick as possible. I promise.”

  Cal let the chip fall off his shoulder. Questioning was inevitable.

  And so was punishment.

  Annie didn't know if she was dreaming or thinking real thoughts. It didn't matter. They were one and the same. One word kept repeating itself, in different ways, in different tones, in different melodies. Time. Time. Time.

  And as the word wrapped itself around her being, one thing became very clear: Cal had it now, and she didn't.

  But that was okay. It was okay.

  Jered was in a jail cell—a cell next to Jinko's. Unfortunately, since there were only two cells, it wasn't as if Jered could ask to be moved. At least a wall divided them. Listening to Jinko was bad enough. Seeing him would have been torture.

  Listening would have been easier if Jinko had yelled at him or threatened him openly. But Jinko didn't do that. He whispered. And so his words, devoid of the full power and tone of voice Jered knew, took on an otherworldly quality, as if it wasn't Jinko talking at all, just a disembodied voice seeping through the cracks in the walls, trying to capture his soul.

  “You better not have talked to them, kid. They're the enemy. I'm your friend; I took you in and cared for you. You don't need them. You and I have to stick together. I'll take care of you. It's us against them. Remember what side you're on.”

  That was the big question. The big choice. What side? Whose side was he on?

  He turned over in his bunk and put the pillow on top of his head, trying to block out the voice. Didn't Jinko ever sleep? I don't want to take sides. I dorit want to choose. I just want to close my eyes and have it go away. I told them all I know; I'm empty
. There isn't any more. I'm done.

  Exactly. You're done.

  Jered's eyes shot open and the voice—that wasn't Jinko's—continued. Your life is done. You've blown everything. Why go on?

  He shook his head against the words. He'd done a good thing. He told the truth. Willy said everything would be better now because he'd come clean.

  Clean? You think that's clean? You'll never be clean. You're dirty, kid. Tainted and defiled. Saying a few words won't make you clean. You are stained beyond cleaning.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. This didn't jibe with what Annie, Vasylko, and even Willy had said. He could pray. God would listen. And he could be forgiven. Somehow Jesus dying on the cross took care of the forgiveness part. He wasn't sure exactly how…

  Give it up, Jered. Let it go. Let your life go before you mess it up even worse. Think of how peaceful it will be not to have to deal with any of this anymore. It will be like you re sleeping, dreaming. Lts the only way to truly get away from this, to escape—

  Jered bolted upright in bed. “Jesus, I'm sorry! Help me!”

  He heard Jinko's laughter. “Dream on, kid. Jesus can't help you now. Nobody can help you but me. I'm your only hope.”

  Jered drew a breath from a new, open place inside, then let out the words his conscience had been waiting—aching—to say: “Shut up, Jinko! Just shut up.”

  When Jinko didn't respond, he smiled. This moment of silence brought to you by Jesus Christ.

  Hallelujah amen.

  Jinko didn't remain silent too long, but Jered didn't care anymore. He suddenly had the strength to not listen, to block out the rantings of this man. Such a desperate, pathetic man. Messed up. Jinko was going down, and no smooth line of bull could make it otherwise.

  Jered lay on his back, his hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling. He knew he was smiling, and he also knew it didn't make a lot of sense. Not according to any sense he was used to anyway. There was no reason he should feel calm and confident. And yet that's exactly how he felt.

  For he was not alone. He was not desperate. He was not a vulnerable kid, ripe for the picking by someone like Jinko Daly. He was a boy—a man—with a mind of his own. A will. A free will. And though that will had gotten knotted, opening himself up to Jesus had untangled it, letting it flow free with each breath. The past was a dark place. The future was full of light. He stood in a hallway between the two and could step either way.