George Hartmann Box Set

by Kelly Utt

  “I had the same dream Saturday night,” I say quietly.

  Roddy raises his head and meets my gaze with a look of surprise on his face. Apparently, Marjorie didn’t tell him what I shared with her.

  “Yeah,” I say. “It was the same, except from my perspective. I was on a road in the woods and was looking for Ali. I was calling out for her. I was desperate to find her.”

  “Wow,” he replies.

  “I thought I heard Ethan calling my name from somewhere off in the distance, but I didn’t know where he was. I thought that part might be my imagination because the sound was so faint. I only knew I had to focus on finding Ali.”

  Roddy stands silently for a moment, taking it in. Before he can respond, Ethan marches out of the bathroom cheerfully. At the same time, we hear Leo stir in the bedroom behind us and little Will begin to fuss in the room next door.

  “Look, George,” Roddy says. “We have kids to take care of and a flight to make. Can we talk about this later on? Tonight when the little ones are in bed, maybe?”

  “Yeah,” I manage, standing up straighter and placing one hand on my chest to center myself. “Fine.”

  “You sure?” Roddy asks.

  “I’m okay,” I say. “Let’s get moving.”

  “Alright then,” he continues. “I’m already showered. How about you and I work with these boys so our lovely ladies can finish getting ready. We’re scheduled to be out the door in less than half an hour, right?”

  “Yes,” I say, feeling a little dazed, but snapping back to reality.

  “Good,” Roddy confirms. “Now get going. Finish up with Will. I’ll help Leo.”

  We continue dressing the boys and making sure we have everything on our lists completed as planned.

  Liam is up and ready downstairs when we arrive there. He begins packing the cars while we wait on Ali and Marjorie to arrive in the living room. The sun is beginning to show its first bit of morning glow out front and the day has palpable energy to it. It seems positive. After all, this should be a fantastic trip full of good experiences. It’s supposed to be, anyway. So, I can’t help but wonder why I’m feeling dread at the thought of leaving the safety of our home.

  I’m still new to this intuition stuff. I’m not even sure if this shared dream constitutes intuition. And Roddy wants to discuss it later. That makes logical sense, but a part of me wants to run to Marjorie and ask her to tell me exactly what this all means. If this shared dream is a real vision and Ali is in danger, I want to know precisely how to protect her. It’s my job. It’s the reason I exist in the here and now. The thought of failing my family again is unimaginable. I can’t begin to wrap my mind around it. It’s my worst fear and it’s hard to simply shake off. I must do anything and everything in my power to keep them safe.

  Ali and her mom arrive in the living room at the same time, looking pretty. Although that’s an understatement. They could be models in a travel magazine, they’re so beautiful. Ali takes Will out of my arms as he smiles and sweet talks his mama. She squats down and opens her free arm for Ethan and Leo to join her. They trot happily towards their mom and settle contentedly in her embrace. After a quick hug and a few words of encouragement, the four of them open the front door and head out to our Tesla.

  “Say bye bye to the house,” Ali prompts as they walk. “We’ll be gone awhile.”

  “Bye-bye, house,” Ethan and Leo say in unison.

  Will claps and squeals.

  “Ask the Universe to watch over our house and our special things while we’re away,” Ali continues. “And to watch over our Ladygirl while she’s at Jenny and Duke’s place. And to watch over Jenny and Duke. And your Grandma Hartmann. Ask the Universe to watch over us all.”

  Ethan and Leo do as instructed, then climb into the back seat of the Tesla and into their car seats. Ethan uses a booster seat now. He helps his kid brother get buckled up, then gets himself situated. I enjoy watching my family as they interact with each other. They look so happy. So delicate. They look like everything good, true, and right in this world, embodied in mortal flesh. When I'm feeling strong, I don't fear for their safety minute to minute. But this morning, I'm feeling weak. I'm shaky and balmy from nervous perspiration. My chest feels like a lead weight has been dropped on it. My heart is racing and I feel sick to my stomach. My sweet wife and our three little boys are so precious. My mind flip-flops between alternating perspectives. One moment, I feel balanced and everything seems good. The next moment, I'm thinking about a myriad of worst-case scenarios and seeing threats around every corner.

  I tell myself to get it together. This trip is about fun and relaxation. It's the first trip that little Will has taken with the family and it's the first trip since the break-in last January. We all need some downtime. Of course, it's also a trip meant to allow us an opportunity to discuss business plans. I don't want to ruin it for everyone by freaking out about imagined threats.

  We load the rest of our luggage and pile into our vehicles. Ali, the boys, and I ride in the Tesla, while Roddy and Marjorie ride with Liam in his truck. Ali drives, so I take the chance to do some deep breathing and calm myself as I ride along. I think about what Roddy said in the hallway upstairs, about how we have a big trip ahead. I also think about what he implied. I know there are people counting on me. I've got to hold myself together. Somehow, everything will be okay. There’s no known threat to my family. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

  As we back out of the driveway and turn south to head down the hill into town, I notice a white industrial cargo van coming up the hill in the other direction. It looks a lot like the one the getaway driver took off in the night of the break-in. When this registers in my mind, my adrenaline spikes and I shift into high gear. My body stiffens and my heart begins to race. I can feel my hands balling up into fists. Ali sees the change in my body posture and looks back and forth between me and the approaching van.

  "Georgie, what is it? " she asks, her voice sounding strained. She knows good and well what it is. What she’s really asking is whether or not I think this is the same van.

  "I... I don’t know,” I reply. "Probably nothing. Just, a random cargo van."

  "If what we’re seeing is just a random cargo van, then why are you sitting up so straight and tense like that?" she inquires.

  "I guess I'm still a little jumpy, "I reply. "It's probably nothing."

  Ali slows down to a crawl as we watch the white van drive past us. The windows are tinted and it's hard to see the driver. In fact, we can’t even make out whether it’s a man or a woman behind the wheel. All we can see is the outline of a dark figure inside. I check the vehicle for markings. I don't see any. The license plate is obscured from view by a couple of busted lights that dangle down above it. I’m not sure there’s even a plate on there. It may be a temporary tag with a simple black plastic frame. I can’t tell. We couldn’t tell anything about the license plate on the getaway vehicle the night of the break-in either. There weren’t any visible markings. It sure would ease my mind about the vehicle that just passed us if I could have taken down the license plate number for the police to research. No such luck.

  "Don't worry about it, Ali,” I say. "I'll give Duke a call when we get to the airport and ask him to send a patrol car by our house, just to be safe."

  "I’m not the one who is worried,” she says. "We can't let fear rule our lives, Georgie. Let's proceed to the airport as planned. We’ll be vigilant like we would have been anyway. That's all we can really do.”

  "Right. Let's keep moving," I say.

  I try to look comfortable each time my wife glances over to check on me during the remainder of the ride to the airport, but my mind is racing as fast as my heart. I'm pretty sure our security system would hold up under another break-in attempt if there were to be one. Taye assured us it would. But I worry about our physical safety, especially when we're out and about. The house has become like a fortress, safe and secure. When we leave the protection of the house, it makes me
jittery. Granted, it does give me some measure of comfort that we’re flying more than halfway across the country. If the getaway driver is still after us, it seems like it would be harder for him to follow us to Lake Tahoe. But it’s hard to speculate because I have no earthly idea why he is after us in the first place. I honestly don't understand. Is this a situation where he’s going to go all out and start doing things like tampering with the airplane we’re riding on? Or is that crazy? I hear my thoughts as they float by and I realize I sound pretty paranoid. Tampering with the plane is over the top. It's beginning to feel like the biggest part of the problem is my own mind and paranoia. Although, if you’d asked me last December about the likelihood that an intruder would enter our home through an upstairs window and take Ethan out, nearly making it off the property and taking him away, I would have said that sounded completely absurd. Next to impossible even. Yet, that’s exactly what happened.

  After I recovered from the initial shock of the break-in, my fear and anxiety were under control for several months. I thought about what happened to us and about the ongoing risk, but in a manageable and reasonable way. Now, I can't help but wonder if I should've been thinking about it more. Have I been in denial? If something happens to my family, I'll never forgive myself. It's my job to protect them. I'm so afraid I won't be able to. Just, afraid. At a fundamental, primitive level. I need a real strategy that goes beyond staying home all the time. And fast. I wonder if we should be turning around and going back to the house instead of getting on an airplane this morning.

  I don’t say anything else to Ali. We ride in silence as the boys talk amongst themselves, blissfully unaware of my concerns. Or so it seems, anyway.

  We arrive at Ithaca Tompkins Regional Airport without incident. The mood is cheerful as we check our large bags and begin a leisurely trek towards our gate. I make a quick call to Duke as promised, then we stop and eat the breakfast we packed before proceeding through security. We’ve allowed plenty of time before our plane is scheduled to take off, so we have it to spare. Besides, Ithaca’s airport is quite small. It won’t take long at all to make our way to the gate for departure. The adults in our group supplement the homemade grub with airport food, but Ali wanted to make sure the boys had bellies full of what they were used to before boarding the plane. She’s so good to us. She’s a real natural when it comes to mothering and caring for our boys. She isn’t half bad at taking care of me either.

  Our first leg of the trip is on a commuter plane to Albany. There, we have a short layover, then we get on a larger plane en route to Reno. The boys seem to enjoy riding on both a small and a large aircraft. One of the pilots on the larger plane lets Ethan and Leo sit in the cockpit for a few minutes before resuming pre-flight preparations. Both kiddos are thrilled by the seemingly endless buttons, knobs, and levers on the control panels. Will watches his big brothers excitedly from Ali’s arms. When the pilot shakes their hands and wishes them a good flight, they trot down the narrow aisle to our seats, located just behind the wing. All three boys behave perfectly for the duration. It just goes to show that kids can, in fact, handle being in busy public places with adults as long as their needs are met. Ali and I are good at anticipating issues before they materialize, so our boys never have to get too worked up or bent out of shape. The toy bags I like to pack are pure magic. They’re a primary key to getting through these types of situations without alienating those around us.

  During our travels, I scan every situation I encounter for signs of trouble. It’s something I always do. In the military, I was taught to watch for bags that are unattended, strange behavior, and dress that isn’t appropriate for the season. When someone is dressed in heavy winter clothes during hot summer months, for instance, it’s a big red flag. Baggy clothes can conceal bombs and weapons. Liam has the same military training, and I notice him scanning the crowd as well. This behavior isn’t just a result of the anxiety I’m dealing with due to my current situation. It's something I do regularly because it's been drilled into me. Today though, it makes me feel especially good to be proactive and following my training. There's no worse feeling than not having any control over your own safety. Taking even the simplest steps to plan for contingencies and possible outcomes helps me feel so much better. It helps me feel in control, which I need more than ever today. I’m sure every single military service member would say the same thing about their training and what it does for their readiness to protect and serve. Preparation for a variety of outcomes is a fundamental part of what it means to be a part of the United States military. It’s the same for all five branches of service: the Air Force, the Navy, the Army, the Marine Corps, and the Coast Guard. We’re a breed of men and women who want to help other people. We desire order and fairness. We value peace and the right to move around freely, without being harassed or injured. I’m sure police officers, firefighters, and other first responders feel similarly as well. It’s simply who we are. It’s in our blood. In our bones.

  I remember once when we were first dating, Ali asked me what I would have done if I had been a passenger on United Airlines Flight 93 that fateful morning on September 11, 2001. She wondered whether or not I would have been one of the guys who decided to rush the hijackers in an effort to regain control of the plane or, at a minimum, keep it from becoming a flying missile as intended. I told her that, of course, I would have. It’s who I am. I would have been right there with Todd Beamer when he said: “let’s roll.” My conscience would never have allowed me to sit by idly when there was a threat to my own safety and that of those around me. Ali also asked me how I’d know what to do and who to do it with. I told her that those of us who are the protectors would have already recognized each other before we ever stepped foot on the plane. At go time, a quick glance and a beginning movement from any one of us would have been enough to spur a well-coordinated counterattack against the hijackers. No words would have been necessary. Ali seemed surprised to learn this about me but said she understood. I think she understands me even more after all the years we’ve spent together. She’s seen my reaction in various situations and to news of various tragedies.

  These days, with my own family quite possibly being in actual danger, my vigilance and readiness to help serves double duty. As I scan the crowds, I’m looking for both a general, unspecified threat to the public as well as a specific, targeted threat directed at my family. It’s unsettling and confusing at times, but I’m grateful for the training which allows me to be better prepared for whatever might come to pass. I’m also grateful that my uncle has the same set of skills. Between the two of us, we’re a serious threat to anyone who might seek to do us harm. And when Roddy is added to the equation, we’re damn near unstoppable. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

  Honestly, when I talk about my own safety as being included in any plan for protection, that’s secondary. Protecting my people comes first, and I do mean both my family and my country when I say that. Now, granted, I feel like I did my fair share of time protecting my country. When I was a young airman, I volunteered to take the place of older guys who had families so they didn’t have to go TDY as often. I expect the younger guys down the line to take over now that I have a family of my own. But if there were to be a general threat to the public like on 9/11, Ali already knows I’d have to go and help out. She knows she could lose me that way. Let’s just hope nothing like that happens. Especially since my own family is in danger. Figuring out how to balance my duty to my family might get complicated, depending on the specifics of a threat to the public. I guess ultimately, I have to trust myself to make the right decisions in the moment. What I know for sure, though, is that if I have to lay down my life in order to protect my family, whether it’s five years from now or five minutes from now, I’ll gladly face that eventuality without hesitation. I’ll step in front of a bullet, in front of a bus, or in front of a grizzly bear. It doesn’t matter what the specific threat is. I’m already there in terms of being ready to face it. I stay there. I’m not
afraid to die. My only fear is letting my people down.

  When we arrive in Reno, we eat what, for us, is a late lunch at the airport. The three hour time difference means it’s still morning local time. That will take some getting used to. It’s one thing to adjust to time zone differences as an adult, but for little kids whose lives revolve around predictable routines, it’s something else entirely.

  When everyone is fed and has had a chance to use the facilities, we head to the rental car area to claim our reservations. A weaselly-looking young blonde guy behind the counter asks too many questions about where we’re staying while we’re in the area, but I decide to shrug it off. I don’t share the address at our rental cabin. I do have to list our home address on the rental agreement, but I can’t imagine what harm this punk might actually do to us or how he could be connected to the bad guys in Ithaca. I figure he probably just lacks social skills and needs dental work and a long shower. He doesn’t look sophisticated or intelligent enough to pull off being a real criminal.

  We move forward with renting two vehicles that we’ll keep for the entire time we’re out West. One is a black Honda Odyssey minivan, and the other is a black Jeep Wrangler. Marjorie, Ali, the boys, and I pile into the Odyssey, while Roddy and Liam take the Jeep. We figure a minivan will be the easiest way to keep the boys happy. It has a built-in DVD player that flips down from the ceiling and reclining seats complete with footrests that flip up. And the Jeep, well, it seemed like a perfect summer vacation vehicle. Us grownups will love running around in it with the top down and doors off, soaking up the sunshine. I’m not sure if it’s crossed Ali’s mind or not, but the Wrangler reminds me of Isabel Madera and her orange version. It makes me feel kind of like we’ll be walking on the wild side when we drive it. Maybe I’ll take my wife out to a secluded area in the Jeep one night and bend her over the backseat. The thought warms me and sends a surge of blood to my manhood. There’s always something magical about making love outdoors in the moonlight on a warm, summer night. The Jeep and its connection to Isabel will only make things more exciting.