Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy

by R. E. Schobernd

  On Wednesday, June 16, 1976 Margaret called Clay at ten in the evening from a hospital emergency room. She had driven Walter there because of chest pains and nausea. The doctor had immediately admitted him and started running a series of test.

  After locating the emergency room waiting area Clay found his mother sitting beside Lizzy. Both stood to exchange greetings with him and then Margaret spoke, “After supper this evening Walt was complaining about mild pain in his chest. Then he said he had pain running down his left arm and he just really felt awful. He said he was nauseous and his skin felt clammy and cold. I finally convinced him to let me drive him here.”

  “Walter has gained quite a bit of weight over the last couple of years; this could be a heart attack.” Clay offered.

  “Yes, I'm afraid it could be.” Margaret agreed.

  “At least he was conscience and didn’t pass out or go into a coma. That’s a good sign,” added Lizzy.

  They were interrupted by a young doctor who introduced himself and then spoke directly to Margaret. “The EKG test indicates your husband has had a series of mild heart attacks. He’s stabilized now, but we would like to keep him here overnight. Tomorrow we’ll run additional tests and discuss dietary changes he needs to consider. At his age, and with the sedentary life style he indicated he leads, he’s sure to have additional heart problems if he doesn’t get his weight down and begin an exercise regimen. But those issues can be discussed at length after we review the results of the additional test. Do you have any questions?”

  Margaret said she had no questions and thanked the doctor for treating Walt. After the doctor left them Lizzy excused herself, saying she needed to be at work early the next morning and she would call Margaret later the following afternoon to learn Walt’s status. Margaret stood to leave and asked Clay if he would stop by the house for a cup of coffee. Sensing his mother needed company after the scare Walt had given them, he agreed to follow her home.

  While loading coffee grounds and water into the stainless steel percolator, Margaret confided in Clay, “I was frightened this evening when Walt was having what I was sure were heart attack symptoms. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him.”

  “He’s going to be alright, Mom. He just needs to follow the doctor’s advice and lose weight and be more active.”

  “I know, but we’ve been together so long I’d be lost without him. I’m not ready to lose him and be alone. It’s scary.”

  “I understand Mom, but I’m sure Walt will be alright. He is going to need you to help him stay on a diet. And I’m sure you’ll have to encourage him to exercise.”

  “Everything used to be so predictable and calm, now it seems like there’s something different to deal with daily. Learning Elizabeth is homosexual was very difficult to deal with, for both of us; and your being kicked out of the union and being unemployed for so long. Then there was the F.B.I. investigating your relationship with those Gilianos and coming around asking questions. They made it sound like you were the worst kind of gangster. And now, Walter is in the hospital with a heart attack. I just don’t know what to do anymore. Everything is so complicated and things keep changing so fast.”

  “Mom, it’s just how life is. You’ve got to accept the changes and deal with the unexpected.”

  “Well I just can’t. It scares me and I just want to go away and hide until I feel safe again.”

  Clay stayed and talked with Margaret until after two in the morning, but didn’t feel like he had helped with her problem.

  Walter did recover, lost some weight and made an effort to exercise more than he had before. Clay bought a family membership at a health club near his parent’s house and presented it to Walter and Margaret; but he sensed neither would take advantage of it; both had established habits and would not change their life styles easily; even if it killed them.

  One evening during supper with Lizzy and Irish he learned Margaret was experiencing additional symptoms of depression and had been seeing a therapist. They decided the three of them would try to get Margaret to discuss the problem and see if they could provide support.

  Clay called Adrianna one afternoon to arrange to meet with her. Three minutes into the conversation they were quarreling and he had lost his temper with her. “What the hell do you mean you’re seeing another man?”

  “Damn it Clay, you don’t own me. I’ve been honest with you from the start about wanting a husband and children; you’re the one who doesn’t want the responsibility of a family.”

  “But our relationship is good the way it is for now. We’re young; we can get married later and have kids then.”

  With her voice rising loudly Adrianna yelled at him, “No Clay, it’s time for you to come to terms with what I’ve been telling you since we first started seeing each other. I want a family; I wish it could be with you, but if you don’t want me for a wife I’ll find someone who does!”

  Clay stood holding the dead phone against his ear until the reality of the phone slamming down sank in. In a few weeks he would call her again and hope she was in a better mood. Maybe she was having an especially bad menstrual period and would be over it by then. And until then there were plenty of other willing and available women who would be more than eager to go out with a successful young businessman.

  Over the next few months Clay dated many women, some only once, some several times. All slept with him, but none replaced the image burned into his mind of his first love, Adrianna. Several times during the period he had called her, and on several occasions they had managed to talk civilly. But she was holding her ground and would not give him an inch. Marriage or nothing was her constant ultimatum. During one of those conversations he discovered his competition was a U.S. Senator from New Hampshire. He investigated and learned the man’s name was Marshall Worthington and he was a thirty four year old bachelor. The man’s future could be in peril.

  Clay managed to get through the 1976 Christmas season and had plunged into the task of finding stock to re-supply the shop. After a buying trip through mid-Illinois and Indiana he returned the week after New Years to unload his booty and prepare for another run. His plans changed the night before he intended to leave again when Lizzy called from the hospital. Walter had suffered another heart attack. Margaret had called an ambulance for him an hour earlier and the emergency room doctor’s prognosis wasn’t encouraging. When he arrived at the hospital twenty minutes later he learned Walter had died while Clay was on the phone talking to Lizzy. A combined major heart attack and stroke had been too much for him. Margaret was hysterical. The floor nurse finally had to administer a sedative to calm her down. Even then it took almost an hour for Clay, Lizzy and Irish to convince her to go home. Walt Jr. and Hazel finally arrived, but were of little help. Lizzy offered to stay the rest of the night with her and Clay postponed his trip to stay with her during the day. It also fell to him to make the funeral arrangements and sort through the financial papers in Walter’s desk. Walt Jr. wanted to play a major role there but Clay embarrassed him in front of the family and he backed off. The next several days, after filtering through the trivial paperwork filed along with the important papers, he and Lizzy learned Walter had left Margaret in decent financial shape. She was well provided for and would be able to maintain her home and present life style. All of their assets were held jointly so no transfers would be necessary.

  Three days later Walter was buried; he was two months shy of his fifty second birthday.

  At the church service Clay saw Adrianna enter with Tony and Anna. They had not spoken for weeks, but his spirit lifted the second he saw her. God, he’d missed her.

  He rode to the cemetery after the church service in one of the limousines with all of his siblings. After the burial ceremony he made his way over to where Tony’s family had gathered. When Tony and Anna stepped away to chat with acquaintances’ Clay said, “I’ve missed you and would like to see you. If you’re staying over may I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?” Adrianna h
esitated, and then agreed to be picked up the next evening.

  Dinner was at an upscale steak house near downtown Chicago. After the meal they lingered and talked over wine for more than an hour before leaving. In the car Adrianna slid across the seat to set close beside him. Without asking, Clay drove to his house and pulled the car into the garage. Their lovemaking was more controlled; but as passionate as it had ever been. Adrianna spoke to him as they lay naked beside each other resting. “Marshall is a good man. He’s caring, intelligent, and has a position of power and importance; but he’s a dumb shit in bed; he thinks the missionary position, in the dark of course, is the only Christian way to screw. I still love you. I would stop seeing Marshall immediately if you said you wanted to marry me.”

  “And I love you too Adrianna. But there are other issues in my life preventing me from marrying and having a family. And it’s not other women. I’m sorry and wish our relationship could have continued as it is.”

  Adrianna leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, and then turned to sit up with her legs over the edge of the bed. With his left index finger Clay traced the curve of her spine on the olive skin. “I’m sorry and wish it could continue too. But I won’t go on being your private whore any longer. I just wish I meant as much to you as your precious independence. Good bye Clay.”

  He protested, but knew in his heart it was over.

  A month later Tony saw Clay enter the back door and motioned for him to grab a beer.

  When they got upstairs to talk Tony said, “I’ve got this job from a guy in Philly, but I know you aren’t going to want it. First off, he tried to argue about the price; then he insisted on knowing your name. My contact says the asshole wants a guy he does business with knocked off because this guy has been screwing his wife.” Can you imagine that! If somebody was banging my Anna I’d be so pissed the S.O.B. would be dead before sunrise. But this cheap bastard wants to argue about the price.”

  “You’re right; I don’t want any part of it. So how are things going?”

  “Everything is good. Oh, there is one piece of news. Adrianna has been dating a Senator and last night she announced there’s going to be a wedding in two months. A Sunday wedding in April in New Hampshire; she and Anna stayed on the damn phone last night for five hours talking about wedding arrangements. Did you ever imagine me having a U.S. Senator for a son-in-law?”

  “It’s great. I wish her the best,” was all Clay could stammer.

  Tony didn’t notice his lackluster attitude and continued, “I wanted it here in Chicago, but Adrianna said the Senator was leery of having all my friends and acquaintances show up; she said the press would crucify the guy and turn the wedding into a circus. And she’s probably right. So the immediate family and some of her friends are going to the East Coast. Don’t look so down in the mouth, you’ll get an invitation too; I’m positive.”

  “Fine, I’ll plan on attending. Well, I’d better get back to the shop. Call me if a better job comes along.”

  Clay knew it was coming eventually, but was still hit hard by the actual news of the wedding. And if he did in fact receive an invitation he would be forced to attend. Tony and Anna would think it very strange if he excused himself from attending the wedding of their only daughter and his lifelong friend. Neither must ever suspect he had been her lover, and more importantly, they must not learn he had refused to marry her.

  By August Clay had put Adrianna’s wedding behind him and had fallen into a daily routine of working at the shop; and learned he really enjoyed every minute of it. He was dating frequently and having dinner with Lizzy and Irish weekly. Visits with his mother several times a week were the most difficult part of his life. She was constantly depressed and therapy apparently wasn’t helping. His involvement in Little Theater and scuba diving continued and he worked out regularly at the club. Personal contacts he had formed had developed into friendships and high class people frequented the shop and hung on every word he spoke. In addition he and Tony were still getting together at least twice a month out on the boat, at a ball game or for dinner. They had developed a relationship closer than he had ever enjoyed with any other person, including his mother. They could talk on any subject, and usually agreed on everything.

  As he sat in his office, on a Friday just after the shop had opened, two uninvited guest opened the door and entered; Coleman and Warren again.

  “Good morning Clayton,” Coleman said as he headed for a chair in front of Clay’s desk. Warren stood behind the other oak courtroom chair as his partner slouched in the seat, squirming to get comfortable.

  “Don’t get too comfortable Coleman, you won’t be staying long.” Clay didn’t smile as he stared pointedly at the two detectives. “Tell me what you want and then leave.”

  “My, aren’t you the contemptuous one?” Warren threw the words back at him.

  Coleman cut in again, “We’ve been working with Mr. Mangiurea over at the FBI. We’ve been checking your tax returns.”

  “And?”

  “Relax, Clayton they’re in perfect order. All the Tees crossed and all the I's dotted. Done perfect, just like the law requires. Your accountant even skipped several deducts that normally trigger an IRS audit. Any reason you know of?”

  Clay laughed, a genuine belly buster. “Let me get this straight, you two clowns came down here just to tell me my tax returns are correct and you didn’t find anything? You might as well give up on me.” Standing up and leaning across the desk Clay looked Coleman in the eyes, “You didn’t find anything because there isn’t anything to find. Now get out and quit wasting my time with this drivel.”

  “He didn’t say we didn’t find anything,” inserted Warren. “The feds agree the returns are too perfect. Like the person filing them would pay extra not to be investigated.”

  “So, you morons are saying if a citizen cheats on his tax statements he gets investigated, and if he doesn’t cheat he gets investigated. Sounds like a bunch of idiots are minding the store. Now leave or I’ll call my lawyer and have a lawsuit filed against you for harassment. And when you talk to Mangiurea, tell him he can have the IRS, the CIA, the CPU and the XYZ all check me because I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  Coleman stood and reached for the door knob, “Lets go, we’re wasting our time here.” Warren gave Clay a hard, harsh stare before following silently. Clearly the older detective had no interest in Clay and was just following orders to harass him. Tony had likely told him to back off, but he didn’t just work for Tony alone. Warren on the other hand would be a pain in the ass if and when he advanced to take the lead in any investigation. Warren had been approached about being an informant and had tried to bring charges against the messenger.

  Clay had promised Margaret he would visit her for lunch, so he picked up a quart of vanilla ice cream and a can of chocolate syrup; her favorite desert.

  Throughout lunch Margaret had been pensive, almost sullen at times. While Clay was scooping ice cream into clear glass, tulip shaped ice cream dishes she began to talk to him in a faint monotone voice. “I know what you’ve been up to when you leave town on those trips you take.”

  “Sure you do, I’ve told you about the antiques I buy and where they come from.”

  “No, I mean the other part of your trips. I’m talking about every time you go away a sensational murder is committed somewhere in the country before you get back.”

  Clay stiffened and slowly turned, “Mom, what the hell are you talking about? Do you realize what you’re accusing me of?”

  “Oh, yes! I realize fully what I am saying. And I want you to know the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach every time it enters my mind. It made me sick to my stomach again this morning when those two policemen came in and questioned me about your involvement with Tony Giliano.”

  “They were here again? I’ll have my lawyer make then stay away!”

  “They aren’t the problem; you are. Clayton, what have you turned into? I don’t know you anymore.”

  “I’
m the same person I always have been. Now, what’s this nonsense about me being a killer?”

  “I thought back to when Jimmy Giliano died. You took time off from your job and the man who killed Jimmy was killed in a horrible manner just before you went back to work. And when Tony was shot and you moved into his home, and several weeks later a large number of people were murdered in cold blood, just before you came back here again.”