by Jaime Reed
After leaving her room, I ate stale Cheetos and juggled phone calls from Mia, Nadine, and Caleb. The game of phone tag lasted for hours, resulting in several trips outside to use my cell, because my service provider doesn’t like hospitals. Nadine and Caleb had searched over twenty hotels on the main strip and found not a whisper of Mr. Ross or Haden’s whereabouts. The frustration and fatigue channeling through the phone were becoming contagious.
“Yes,” I said, assuring Caleb for the millionth time. “I promise I’m—”
A tall figure stood between the cars, watching me. The night masked his face, but not the chill of his presence. The man embodied a persistence that put Mia’s stalker technique to shame, practically daring me to make a move.
“Sam?” Caleb called.
I tried to respond, but nothing came out.
“Sam?” Caleb said, his voice pitching a little. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”
Two words managed to escape. “He’s here.”
I ended the call and raced back inside. That probably scared Caleb into the next life, but I needed to find refuge and stand guard around Mom.
Peering out of the window, I did surveillance of the parking lot when a commotion by the entrance caught my eye. A team of doctors pulled a man under a sheet out of a car and loaded him on a gurney. Caleb and Nadine raced onto the scene, shoving their way toward the doors. Seeing the man under the sheet, Caleb grabbed at the sheet, almost pulling the man off the stretcher. Telling by how Caleb fought and reached for the victim, it couldn’t have been Mr. Ross, but someone of more significance. A doctor pushed Caleb back, urging him to stay behind and let them work. After a few attempts at reason, Caleb complied and remained behind the procession.
I searched the parking lot and saw no sign of Mr. Ross, not that I expected him to remain at the scene. He may have disappeared from sight, but this wasn’t over. The question was, could I fight him off? If what Nadine had said was true, if that draw could persuade me, how could I repel it? It was one thing to fight an outside force, but it was another thing to fight one’s own mind.
Staring out to the waiting area, I took in the illusion of normal: the plastic chairs, florescent lights, and the dozing loved ones of the sick. All these things met the naked eye, so people had no reason to look any further. Even Dad, the strongest man I knew, was blind to what lurked in the dark.
A part of me envied it, wanting more than anything to go back to the first week of summer, a time where I could say in all confidence that the bogeyman wasn’t real. But that dream had ended and there was no going back to sleep. There was nothing left to do now but find another insomniac to help me.
All arrows pointed to Caleb, which ticked me off even more. I didn’t want to need him, but he was the only operative in my brigade, forcing me to break down and dry swallow that pill of pride.
As if thought alone conjured him there, Caleb rushed from the elevators, panic-stricken and out of breath. His sweaty brown hair was plastered to his forehead as he whipped around the hall. After spotting me, he stopped short and pulled me into his arms.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered.
I knew he wasn’t lying. His body shook as his heart pounded against my chest. Peering over his shoulder, I saw Nadine standing next to us.
A somber cloud darkened her features. “We found Haden unconscious in a car in the parking lot. His father must have brought him here. He’s got a nasty knot on his head. The doctors are looking at him now downstairs.”
It wasn’t what I expected, but at least one puzzle got solved. “Is he all right?”
“He’s alive. That’s all that matters.”
His response gave me a chill. “What happened to him? Was your dad holding him hostage the whole time?”
“Looks that way. He’s wearing the same clothes he had on when he came to my house. I can only imagine what he’s gone through.”
“You said you saw Mr. Ross?” Nadine broke in.
“Yeah, he was standing in the parking lot, just watching me.”
Nadine frowned with concern. “Did he make eye contact? Did you feel an urge to go to him?”
“No, I didn’t stay long enough for his roommate to pull me in.”
She looked puzzled. “His roommate?”
“That’s what she calls it,” Caleb joined in. “But anyway, we need to wait until Brodie and Michael get here to work up a plan. How’s your mother?”
“She’s doing pretty well, except for the fact that she asked for your dad.”
Nadine shook her head. “That’s not good.”
“I’ll say,” I said.
“No, that means she might still be under his draw.” Nadine looked around the waiting room. “We should be fine for now, but once she is strong enough, she might try to seek him out.”
My smile dropped. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Trust me; we need to grab him before he does any more harm,” Caleb said grimly.
A deep voice behind me made me jump. “Excuse me.” “Dad!” I cried, whipping around to see him.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” Dad asked, sizing up the man next to me.
“Um, yeah. Daddy, this is Nadine Petrovsky. She works with me at the café. And this is my boyfriend, Caleb Baker.” Stepping aside, I motioned for Caleb to walk toward his imminent demise.
When they shook hands, Caleb didn’t even flinch at Dad’s kung fu grip.
“Nice to meet you, young man. I hear you’ve taken an interest in my daughter?”
Caleb held his own, looking the big man square in the eye. “I have, sir. I care a lot about her.”
“I was wondering if I could take a moment of your time to talk.” Dad stretched his arm to point toward the chairs in the back, indicating that his statement wasn’t a question.
Lifting his head high, Caleb began his death march toward the mother of all inquisitions.
“Want a Jolly Rancher?” Nadine held a bag of hard candy in front of me, a welcoming distraction. “I have feeling this will be a while. Let’s sit and you can tell me how you’ll make honest man out of Caleb.”
I fished out a cherry-flavored one, then took a seat. “It’s a little too soon for that.”
“It is never too soon to plan, and the best ones require time.” Nadine sat next to me and sucked down her sour-apple treat.
“Since the beginning, you’ve been pushing me on Caleb. Why do you think I’m such a good match for him?” I popped the candy in my mouth.
“Because you’re both stubborn and guarded, yet secretly crave passion. You both battle duality and war with your identity. You know what it’s like to exist in two worlds, and you love sweets as much as he does.” She looked at me, her eyes twinkling with humor. “He speaks of you often. It is usually complaint, yet his eyes glow with desire. He loves the fight in you.”
Wow! It’s hard being called out on so many issues at once. I wasn’t ready to look into that mirror, so I steered the conversation elsewhere. “So, his spirit likes willful women?”
“No, is not that. Women constantly throw themselves at Caleb. To have one out of hundreds not give a damn if he lives or dies is refreshing. The human side of him gravitates to it; it is intriguing. In time, the spirit will recognize your presence and accept it,” she encouraged, but I wasn’t getting my hopes up.
“I can’t think about that right now. This is all new to me, and I need to get my mom squared away.”
“I understand, but those who know about us stay close to us. We have difficulty letting them go, hence the issue with Mr. Ross.” Nadine took a deep breath. “The torment of losing his wife drove him insane. We love very, very deeply, Sam, because we don’t do it often. We cannot afford to, as you can see.”
“Caleb said that about me.”
“Maybe you two are meant for each other.”
I gave her a hard look. “Can we focus on Mr. Ross instead of playing matchmaker?”
“I call it like I
see it. Caleb never acts this way around any woman. In fact, he has been distant these few years.”
“I should say so. His dad is a killer. When an animal is lame or ill, the humane thing to do is put it down,” I intoned.
“You sound like Caleb. You know real reason he’s in the States? To flee his father and avoid temptation to kill him. He was determined to do what his brothers could not. Caleb tells me that he tried to kill Mr. Ross twice: once with poison, then tried to shoot him in his sleep.”
The reply was like a punch in the face. That didn’t sound like the Caleb I knew. “Really? What happened?”
“Obviously, it didn’t work. Caleb says he came close, but he couldn’t do it.”
“Why?”
“Our spirits are connected to their source. Their instinct is self-preservation. The spirit will not harm itself, and it will not allow us to either.”
“So Caleb didn’t kill him because Capone is still tight with Big Daddy’s spirit.”
Nadine’s lip twitched, fighting the urge to laugh.
“You have strange way of summing things up,” she said. “But yes, that is the problem. The deeper the bond to spirit, the less we can harm its source. Caleb is not close with his spirit. He ignored it for years, ignored our advice and teachings. His detachment is blessing and curse. I heard he shot Mr. Ross in the leg. Caleb has excellent shot, by the way. Have you seen his crossbow?”
Nadine boasted as though having a trigger-happy friend was run-of-the-mill. But at least it explained why Mr. Ross had a limp.
“So what do we do now?” I asked, steering the topic back to our present dilemma.
“You can tell me whether or not you love Caleb.”
I scowled. “Oh, so you gonna grill me now?”
“Better me than Caleb’s brothers. They don’t play nice.” She looked at me for a moment and repeated her question. “Do you love him?”
“If I do, I can’t identify it. I have no source to draw from. I feel deeply, but that could mean anything. Plus, he’s got enough baggage to sink a cruise liner. How could I possibly get past this?”
Nadine nodded. “Now you see why we can’t love freely like others do? It takes a strong person to love who we are, and when we find that one person, it’s impossible to let them go. I know the grief of lost love, a pain I wish on no one. So if you are not sure, you need to end it now before it’s too late, before his spirit is used to having you around.”
“That sounds sinister.”
“It doesn’t have to be if you feel the same. You must be sure. For your sake as well as Caleb’s.”
“No pressure, Sam, really,” I sighed.
“No pressure at all,” Nadine returned with a wink.
When the Man Meeting adjourned, Dad dismissed Caleb with a handshake laced with fatal caveats. Seated in the corner, Dad flipped open his laptop as if pleased to know that my virtue was intact. Caleb reached our side of the room, looking exhausted and confused.
“How did it go?” I asked.
He shook his head slowly. “I’m not sure.”
I patted his arm in consolation. “Well, you’re still alive, so I guess it went stellar.”
“What did he say to you?” Nadine asked.
Caleb kissed the top of my head, then pulled up a chair to sit across from me. “He asked me what my intentions were. I told him that we were just dating, and it was too early to make any major decisions.”
“See.” I bumped Nadine in the arm.
“He was pretty concerned about our age difference. He called me a cradle robber and a few other names that I didn’t understand. Then he said something about you, and then I was completely lost. What exactly is a ten-deroni?”
“The San Francisco treat?” Nadine offered.
I rolled my eyes. “No, that’s my dad showing his true age. He and Mom need to let the eighties rest in peace.”
“He wanted to know why I haven’t gone to school, and I think he understood my reason.”
“Did you tell him what’s going on?” Nadine asked.
“I told him that your mother’s date frightened her and probably caused her attack. And that he was creeping around the hospital, and we shouldn’t risk anything until she’s recovered. He was pretty shocked that your mother didn’t take extra precautions. Your mom has a reputation for being a bit paranoid.”
“Understatement of the decade, dude,” I scoffed. “Did you tell him who the mystery date really was?”
Caleb stared at me. “Are you kidding me? The less he knows about this whole thing, the better. I just need him to keep guard around your mother until we handle this.”
I concurred. The last thing anyone needed was my dad to get involved. “So what have you decided?”
“We gotta trap Dad somehow. Maybe drug him again?” Caleb suggested.
“We will see what your brothers say.” Nadine rose from her seat. “I’m going to check on Haden. You two lovebirds talk. You have sorting out to do.” With a knowing smirk, she moved toward the elevators.
Once we were alone, Caleb turned his focus on me. “What’s she talking about?”
“She’s a-fixin’ to get us hitched,” I drawled in my best country accent.
“And what did you say?”
“I said, ‘No thank you, I’ll just have the salad.’”
Looking down, a wide, face-splitting smile crept forth. “You know, if someone asked me that two months ago, I would have laughed in their face, but now ...”
“But now what?”
His eyes met mine again. “It’s still funny.”
I winked. “Right back at ya.”
He held both my hands in his own, his fingers tracing over each knuckle. “Sam, we have plenty of time to sort it all out. I just need to know that you’re willing to try.”
“Do I have to answer you now? I can’t make decisions like that at the moment. Wait until my mom recovers and your dad is dealt with before I give you my answer.”
“Fair enough. Am I still the champion of your celestial domain?” He tucked in his lips to fend off the laughter.
This guy would never let that go. “For now. You’ve survived my father’s gauntlet. Wear your badge with honor.”
“I will.” Wetting his lips, he pinched his eyes shut. “Sam, I wanna kiss you so bad. My lips are burning.”
Boy, did I know the feeling. I also knew that neither of us was going to do jack about it. Taking his hand, I stood up. “Come on, they’ve got ice cream in the cafeteria. That should cool you off.”
The prospect of dessert brightened his face. “Really? What kind? You know I have a thing for chocolate.”
“Obviously,” I muttered, leading him to the elevators.
27
The next day at work, I was a walking zombie, immune to the electroshock treatment of caffeine and energy drinks.
My head remained plastered against the counter, not caring if Linda walked by, or if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse needed an iced latté. Nadine was a saint to pick up the slack.
I was glad it was Sunday. The store closed at six, and I could make it to the hospital in time for visiting hours. Nadine must have read my mind, because she zipped through the workstation, wrapping food and cleaning like crazy. I didn’t even bother to change. I went straight to the hospital with Nadine following me in her car.
When I got to the waiting room, I saw Dad in varying hues of pissed off. Turns out Grandpa made another attack, demanding that his daughter be released and placed in his custody as soon as possible. As the king of tobacco and a lofty contributor to the city’s funding, the Marshall name carried some serious weight in this town. Having the state senator and local officials as golf partners made it unwise for anyone to get on Grandpa’s bad side.
The doctor insisted that Mom wasn’t ready to be released for another few days, which gave us time to stall. In the meantime, Mom was transferred to a private suite on the ninth floor.
The ninth floor, which I soon nicknamed “The Penthou
se,” was a private retreat set away from those filthy HMO peasants. With hotel motif, soft lighting, and a cushy sofa, all that was missing were the cabana boy and the complimentary hot towel. Grandpa’s guilt sure rode him hard, because he spared no expense in seeing that Mom was well-treated and heavily guarded. I had to show ID and sign in at the front desk before I was escorted to my mom’s suite.
Opening Mom’s room door, I found her sitting up in the middle of the bed, looking out of the window. She was in no condition to move, let alone attempt to stand. Every motion looked painful, especially with the IV shackling her down.
“Mom, are you all right? You need to lie down.”
She didn’t seem to hear me, so I stepped closer. She didn’t look at me when I reached her side. Her gaze stayed glued to the window. Orange sunlight leaked through the blinds, making the room look and feel like the inside of an oven.
“I know you hate being cooped up in here, but you need to keep still until you get better.” I brushed her curly hair from her face. She was unresponsive, at best. She barely blinked and the only sounds in the room were the monitors and her heavy breathing. Soon, she was panting like a dog in heat.
“Mom, are you warm? I could open the window,” I offered.
Lifting the blinds, I searched the pane and found no opening. Just as I was about to turn away, I saw it: the reason for Mom’s zombie state, the cause of her erratic breathing, and the source of my ever-increasing panic.
Mr. Ross stood in the middle of the parking lot, staring up at the window. How Mom knew he was there was a mystery, but she seemed in tune with his presence from a mental antenna. His stare reached through twenty yards and half an inch of glass to assault my sanity. Everything in my body screamed for me to turn away, to not look at his eyes, but my feet couldn’t move. Slowly, my hand reached for the string of the blinds and pulled. The band of shade sliced across my vision, shattering the trance. After closing the blinds, I rushed to Mom’s side and laid her back on the bed.
