by David Sal
“No, of course not. I’m sorry to bother you here, but I would appreciate it if you could give me a few minutes of your time so that we could talk about something important,” requested Lorenzo as humbly as possible.
“I assume you’re here because of what happened between your wife and Pedroza, but I don’t see what that has to do with me,” said Centeno as he headed to his cart, where he took out a bottle of water. He offered one to Lorenzo, who turned it down with a shake of his head.
“Well, you were his attorney,” pointed out Lorenzo.
“Yes, the company’s attorney, not Pedroza’s personal attorney,” clarified Centeno.
“But you worked directly with him,” added Lorenzo.
“At times.”
“And you had arguments and disputes.”
“Yes, that’s true, and we could fill this entire course with people who could say the same,” asserted Centeno, stretching out his arm and pointing toward the green space.
“I don’t think that many have had an argument like the one you had last week over the phone,” Lorenzo blurted out, knowing that he could not take it back.
With an astonishing calm that made Lorenzo even more nervous, Centeno responded, “I don’t even remember having spoken with him over the phone.”
“Maybe the words ‘I’m going to destroy you’ will refresh your memory?”
Centeno did not answer, but Lorenzo could see how he furrowed his brow as he drained the last sip of water from his bottle.
“Let’s put a stop to this,” said Centeno sternly. “You’re not a police officer, nor are you an attorney. You’re not even a private detective. Your insinuations are offensive to me and I recommend that you stop the conversation here or deal with the consequences,” said Centeno without hiding his disgust.
Lorenzo could feel the blood rushing to his head, making his face burn and his legs tremble.
“Are you threatening me?” Lorenzo managed to ask.
“Oh, no. I don’t threaten. I advise. Pedroza may have been who he was, but he was my client and I’m very sorry about his death,” answered Centeno, emotionless.
“Yes, I can see. I suppose that after your game you’ll go ease your sorrow with a massage and a steam bath,” ventured Lorenzo.
Centeno took two steps toward Lorenzo to stand face-to-face with him. He gave him a scathing glare and a slight, fleeting smile of disdain crossed his lips.
“If you need to get your wife out of this mess, call me. Although I’m sure you haven’t done so because you can’t afford it. Good day,” ended the attorney, turning around and getting into his golf cart, which swiftly took off, leaving Lorenzo in the middle of the field, completely alone.
•••••
The flock of doves flew away from the threatening steps of the three-year-old coming toward them with a fistful of seeds in his hand. His mom let out a chuckle when the birds’ flight caused the child to cry. She walked over and consoled him, showing him how to feed the doves without making them feel the need to escape. On his second attempt, he threw the food and waited for the doves to come back and peck at their lunch. The little boy jumped up and down in delight, practically bursting with happiness at the result and for being considered the birds’ new friend.
On the other side of Costa Linda’s public plaza, a group of retired citizens was absorbed in the island’s number one pastime: a game of dominoes. The game ended with the capicu: the winning tile being played and the winning team jumping out of their seats after crushing the losers. The expert observers analyzed and commented on the outcome while organizing the next game. One of many left in the day.
The bustling activity of the locals and the perennial enthusiasm of the tourists contrasted starkly against Lorenzo’s gloomy, depressed appearance. He was seated on one of the plaza’s benches with his face in his hands. He could not remember the last time he had sat there just to enjoy the environment and the people. This was definitely not one of those moments. Anxiety and disappointment were taking their toll.
He felt so dejected that he even decided it would do him some good to call Edgar and meet up with him to share the information he had gathered from his interviews. Maybe Edgar would notice something he had not.
Lorenzo could finally see Edgar walking toward him. He was walking quickly and frantically. He walked up beside him and, rather than sitting down next to him, sat down on the bench that looked in the opposite direction. Lorenzo started to stand up and Edgar stopped him.
“Don’t stand up,” ordered Edgar.
Lorenzo sat back down.
“Sorry for the delay,” apologized Edgar.
“Look, if you don’t want me to stand, then sit down next to me,” suggested Lorenzo.
“No. It’s not safe,” responded Edgar, looking every which way, except at Lorenzo.
Lorenzo stood up, turned toward the bench and sat down next to Edgar, who then stood up to leave. Lorenzo grabbed him by the arm and yanked him down.
In a muffled tone, Edgar shouted, “What’s going on with you? Don’t you watch TV?”
“Yes, I watch TV, but you obviously watch too much,” said Lorenzo.
“Okay, whatever you want. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I think I have a suspect,” announced Lorenzo.
“Suspect? Who?” asked Edgar, impressed.
“Pedroza’s attorney, Pedro Centeno. Javier Estrada confided to me that Pedroza threatened to ‘destroy’ him. I spoke with him and he was so uncomfortable with my questions that he even tried to intimidate me.”
“Please, tell me you’re joking,” said Edgar, worried.
“Seriously, I spoke with him at the sports club.”
“Remember, whatever happens, you don’t know me and I never gave you any names, especially not Centeno’s, which I actually didn’t give you,” said Edgar, looking like a complete wreck. “Look, what else do you have?”
“That’s it. The attorney had motive,” stated Lorenzo.
“But where’s the how, when, and why? Motive and opportunity. They always go together. You don’t have anything if you don’t have both,” answered Edgar, crossing his arms.
“Well, um….” stammered Lorenzo at a loss for words.
“Besides, you couldn’t find any other suspect? You don’t want to be on someone like Centeno’s bad side. He could destroy you and without the least bit of guilt on his conscience. I’ve heard some horror stories that I won’t even tell you,” boasted Edgar without raising his voice.
Lorenzo knew that Edgar was right. There was no substance to his findings. Just questions, doubts, and moot points. He had managed to paint a much clearer picture of the unfortunate incident from the point of view of Doris’ three colleagues. But he was still missing the most important point of view: Doris’. He wanted to be able to question her about her dismissal, the invitation, the reason why she brought the trophy with her; he wanted details from the person he saw as the most important witness. While pondering his next step, he felt the unexpected buzz of his cell phone inside his pants pocket. He stood up to take it out and answer it.
It was then that Edgar saw something that seemed physically impossible to him. Lorenzo’s face turned even darker, as if the life were being sucked right out of him through some secret and invisible hose. He did not want to, but he had to ask him what happened. Lorenzo did not respond; he just put away his phone and started walking. Edgar immediately knew he should not ask anything else. There was only one thing he could do if he wanted to know more: walk with Lorenzo, wherever that might lead.
Chapter 9
The strange smell did not have the same effect on Lorenzo as it usually did. In the past, just the thought of the smells that permeated a hospital awoke in him an uneasiness that turned into anxiety and then discomfort. He did not understand the specific reason why, but he knew that he was not the only one. The interesting thing was that he had never been hospitalized. Maybe it was some repressed fear of not knowing when he would make
his debut as a hospital patient. Or maybe it was because of the stories he had heard about people who were hospitalized for some unexpected illness and never returned home. Maybe it was simply because of his phobia of needles. In hospitals there were needles ready to be used in every room. And the staff who were able to perform that unpleasant task were always more than ready to do so. Nevertheless, the smells did not awaken any further anxiety in Lorenzo that day. His anxiety was already at its maximum level for another reason.
While Lorenzo was being transferred to the room where Doris was, he saw something that made him reevaluate his feelings toward hospitals. He walked by an area where the majority of the faces were happy and radiant. There were hugs and handshakes. The sobs that were heard broke into smiles and the tears were from happiness. He remembered that he, too, would soon be looking at his little one through the window of a maternity unit with pride, accompanied by and congratulated by his family members who did not live on the island but who would not miss the happy occasion for the world. Only under that circumstance would he accept being within the walls of that terrible hospital, even if only for a few days.
When his gaze stumbled into Alexis’ at the end of the hallway, he abruptly came back to the present. He saw him conversing with a man in a white lab coat, who he assumed was a doctor, and who was flanked by two uniformed police officers, and he realized that the future he had just been dreaming about was in real danger of becoming exactly that: a dream. What he was actually experiencing was worse than a nightmare; it was reality and he could not wake up from it.
Alexis interrupted his conversation with Doctor Vidal and introduced him to Lorenzo, who did not lose any time in asking how Doris was. Alexis had not provided any details over the phone. Meanwhile, Edgar remained hidden around the corner but very much alert to what was going on.
“Mr. Mojica, please allow me to speak with Mr. Almeida in private,” Doctor Vidal requested of Alexis, who instantly obliged. Turning to Lorenzo, the doctor said, “Your wife was brought here because she suffered an extreme anxiety and panic attack. She has plunged into a severe depression. It appears the ordeal she’s going through right now triggered an already underlying condition.”
“And the baby?” questioned Lorenzo worriedly.
“The baby is fine….for now. Look, I need you to understand that severe depression is a serious condition that can be as dangerous to the mother as it can be to the baby,” the doctor explained with care.
“How dangerous?” asked Lorenzo, without really wanting to hear the answer.
“Both of their lives could be at risk.”
“I see,” said Lorenzo with a sigh.
“There are treatments that can be effective. That said, we want to avoid treatment with drugs at this moment because it could put the fetus at risk,” he explained.
“Yes, yes. I understand,” said Lorenzo without looking at him. “So, what can we do?”
“Talk to her. See if she reacts to your presence. Let her see that she’s not alone, that everything will be all right. Give her a loving sense of assurance and warmth,” instructed the doctor affably.
“And if she doesn’t believe me?” asked Lorenzo to the doctor’s surprise. The physician gathered that the strain was taking its toll on Lorenzo, too.
“If you believe it, she will, too,” he answered with an understanding smile that was his attempt at encouraging Lorenzo to give it a try. Lorenzo could barely nod his head in agreement. The doctor gave him a pat on the shoulder and took a small step back to give him space.
Lorenzo silently entered the room. The only source of light came from a small lamp next to the bed where Doris was lying. She was the only patient in the room. When Lorenzo got close enough to her, he could see the ravages caused by what she was going through. The deterioration in Doris’ physical appearance was clear. Her eyes were closed and she had no color or expression. He was used to admiring her copper-colored skin; seeing her so pale made him feel like he was looking at a cadaver. But there was life in her body. He just had to find it. The only obstacle was that Lorenzo did not have the slightest idea of what to do or say. So, he said the first thing that came to him.
“Doris,” he called tenderly. “Doris.”
He waited for an answer that he knew he would not get.
“Doris, I guess you can hear me. I need to ask you some very important questions. I need your help to clear this up…”
Lorenzo interrupted himself. The room filled with silence again for a moment. He closed his eyes and let out a big breath of air. He took one of her frozen hands and clasped it between his.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered lovingly. “I want to tell you something…I believe in you….I love you, now more than ever. I’ll fight this ’til the end, but I can’t do it alone. I need you to fight, too. Don’t let me lose you, please. We’re fighting and we’re going to win. I promise you. We’re going to win so that we can be like we were before…better than before, actually, so we can give a beautiful home to our baby boy…or girl.” That thought stopped him. “I’m going to be a dad and you’re going to be a mom. Our dream. Every time I think about it, it makes me so happy…but at the same time, I feel like it can’t be true. The truth is that we need you. Your family needs you.”
Lorenzo did not perceive any change in her appearance. He moved closer and gave her a tender kiss on the forehead. He realized that he was losing her to the cruelty of depression. Lorenzo’s facial expression transformed from loving affection to a radiating fury. He said goodbye to Doris giving her another kiss on the forehead and then hurriedly left the room.
Without exchanging words or looks with the people waiting for him outside, Lorenzo rushed down the hallway. Alexis and Edgar barely had time to react as Lorenzo left them in a cloud of dust. Alexis tried to stop him as he flew past people.
“What’d she say to you? The doctor’s coming right back. Don’t go!” Alexis implored in vain.
“Yeah, don’t go! You’re my ride!” clamored Edgar, running after him.
Edgar was just able to catch up with him when Lorenzo entered one of the elevators. Edgar refrained from asking any questions because he could see that Lorenzo was not in the best state. He figured it would be more appropriate to wait until a later time. In the meantime, he would discuss a different matter of utmost importance to him.
“Okay, where are we going to eat?” asked Edgar.
“We’re going to my house,” answered Lorenzo dryly, with his gaze fixed on the changing floor numbers as they went down.
“Oh, you’re cooking. Even better. What are you making?” he asked again.
“We’re not going to eat anything right now. We’re going to look for the invitation that Doris brought to Pedroza’s house. I have to find some sort of clue, and I’m not going to eat until I’ve found it,” said Lorenzo, expressionless.
“Okay, but I have to eat now. I can tag along on your hunger strike, but I’ll be at your side eating,” Edgar pointed out, crossing his arms.
Minutes later, Lorenzo started his car and drove toward the highway. Traffic was light, which was normal for the area at this time of night. Lorenzo hit the brakes when the stoplight in front of them turned red. The car came to a complete stop in the middle of the intersection. The characteristic sputtering of his car was the only thing cutting through the total silence. Lorenzo appeared to be very wrapped up in his thoughts.
“What’d Doris say to you? Did she help you with anything?” asked Edgar, trying to end the uncomfortable silence.
“She told me that she’s the one who needs help,” answered Lorenzo to Edgar’s surprise. Edgar was only met with more silence as he tried to find out more, especially about something that he had overheard when he was listening in on the conversation between Lorenzo and Dr. Vidal.
“And what’s this about you having a baby? Congratulations….although under the circum…”
His words were cut short when a car suddenly slammed into them from behind. Edgar let out a groan a
s he rubbed his neck with both hands. Lorenzo looked into the rearview mirror but could not see anything except the glare of the headlights from the car that had rammed into them. When he veered to the side to get a better look he noticed it was a large SUV, but he could not make out the driver. He was getting ready to get out when Edgar stopped him.
“No! What are you doing?” asked Edgar, alarmed.
“I’m going to see what they did to the car,” explained Lorenzo calmly.
“Don’t get out. Something weird is going on,” said Edgar, fixing his gaze on the truck. “No one’s getting out. I’m telling you, something weird is going on.”
“I think you’re right. That’s a brand new truck. Why hasn’t anyone gotten out?” Lorenzo wondered. He knew from experience that when you have an accident with a new car, it does not matter who is at fault. The owner of the new car is the first to get out to see if there is any damage to the car. And they generally blame it on the other person. No one wants other people to say that they have wrecked their new car.
As soon as the light turned green, Edgar urged Lorenzo to hurry up and leave the other car behind. Lorenzo gave in without protest. The truck continued in the same direction as Lorenzo and Edgar.
“They’re following us,” Edgar announced, losing his cool.
Edgar’s announcement was not necessary. Lorenzo was very much aware. Nevertheless, he tried to calm both Edgar and himself down.
“No. Since the accident was their fault, and it wasn’t anything big, he just wants to see if we’ll let him pass. It’s fine. I’m not even going to think about the ding in the bumper,” explained Lorenzo without obtaining the desired effect.
“He’s following us. I’m telling you,” insisted Edgar vehemently.
“We’re on a road that tons of people use. I’m going to turn so you’ll see,” said Lorenzo, hoping he was right. He swerved to the right, pulling onto a secondary road. In the mirror, Lorenzo could see that the truck swerved in the same direction. Edgar grabbed his head, bumping up and down in his seat.
