by Kelly Utt
The two of them laugh together. They're connecting. Thank God. The clock is ticking. I want to get this done tonight. I want clarity on what to do about Clive and this is the only way I can think of to try and get it.
Marjorie and Joe talk back-and-forth for nearly an hour. Marjorie explains what she knows and Joe takes notes on the back of a napkin. Marjorie tells him about the University of Virginia where there's an entire department which studies children's past life memories. She also tells him about quantum physics and how many scientists now believe that the external world is created by our consciousness rather than vice versa. She tells him about an Ivy League trained psychiatrist who has become a well-known author and speaker on the topic of past lives dating back to the eighties when one of his patients was being regressed to a childhood memory and spontaneously went back further, just like I did. Joe asks lots of questions, not the least of which are about whether or not these particular studies have been peer reviewed. He seems satisfied with the answers Marjorie gives him and he promises to look them up on his own.
I'm almost ready to ask Joe once more about hypnotizing me tonight when Roddy walks in the door.
"Hey, Roddy," I say. "What are you doing down here? Are the boys okay?"
"The boys are fine," he says hurriedly. "Linette is back in the room with them. But George, Liam needs our help with something. Can you ride along with me?"
10
Disbelief
I can't begin to count the number of times Liam has been there for me when I needed him.
Throughout my entire life, Liam has been a steady, supportive presence. He hung out with me when I was a kid whose mom had just started working again. When he was in town, he sat with me in the living room after school and brought curiosity and adventure into my life with his tales of travels around the world.
When Dad died, Liam and John Wendell were my rocks. Like two pillars holding a house up, they supported me. My uncle left his life in D.C. to be with us in Ithaca for an extended period of time in order to be sure Mom and I were stable and doing alright. I’m certain he used up all of his leave that year and had to forego any personal travel plans, but he didn’t think twice about doing it.
When I was a young college kid, unsure of which direction my life should take, Liam was a positive role model. It was because of him that I became interested in aerospace engineering and that I chose to major in the field.
When I was a newly-commissioned Air Force officer trying to find my footing in the military, Liam was an inside man willing to show me the ropes.
When I was young and in love, Liam stood beside me. He welcomed Ali into our family with open arms and he literally stood beside me as the best man at our wedding.
When my kids were born, Liam showed up to visit right away and loved those little guys like his own from day one.
I don't think I can adequately express just how much that man means to me. He gives my life definition and purpose. I once heard Ali say that you can't really know me without also knowing Liam. She's right. He's a part of me. And I don't know what I'd do without him.
There have been times when I really worried about him. He's been in some risky situations, especially during his tenure in special ops. Being in the same career field and also in special ops, I was often privy to just how dangerous some of those situations were. I won't lie. I've been scared shitless a few times, thinking that my uncle might not make it out in one piece.
Aside from my own loss if something were to ever happen to him, I'm afraid of what it would be to Estella. Even though they're separated right now, I know they love each other deeply. I have a hunch they'll end up back together someday. I’d almost bet that Estella feels the same way. I don't think she could live without him.
I tend to think of my uncle as pretty invincible. I felt the same way about my dad, but with Liam it's different. He has survived many years longer than Dad and I've known him as an adult. I've seen how resilient and tough he is. Not to mention, level headed. But everyone has their limits. I fear I've asked too much of Liam in this situation with Clive. So many things could go wrong. My mind races as I consider what might be happening.
"George, we have a problem," Roddy says as we walk out the back service entrance and around the corner to the gas station to get into the Jeep.
We don't bother with Miss Tessa or Girard. We don't want to wait. Luckily, the news crew doesn't spot us.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
Roddy grunts as he puts the Jeep’s gas pedal to the floor and accelerates as fast as the engine will go. His brows are lowered and he has that intense look he gets when it's time for fast action. I'm becoming all too familiar with that look.
"We’ll know when we get there," he says.
I can't tell if he's avoiding the question or if he genuinely doesn't know.
“Is Liam alright?" I ask. " How did you know something was wrong?”
“He messaged me,” Roddy replies. "Now give it a rest, would you? We'll be there within five minutes we’ll find out what's going on then."
I do as he asks and I don't say another word. I can feel my knees beginning to tremble and my palms beginning to sweat. This is a special kind of scared because it's one I didn't know I’d ever have to feel. The five-minute ride to the motel feels like fifty.
I retrace our steps from this afternoon in my mind and think about how things might have gone differently. I wonder whether or not the information we got from Clive was worth kidnapping a man and holding him against his will. I wonder how much of what he said was true and whether or not he was just trying to exploit us for an easy payday.
“You still have the clump of Clive’s hair, right? In the soap wrapper?" I ask Roddy.
"Yes, I still have it,” he replies.
I completely forgot about the clump of hair when we took off our clothes to change into the maintenance uniforms. I’m glad we didn’t lose it.
Roddy is frustrated with me now.
"Focus. Come on, George,” he says. “Rely on your training, for God’s sake. I need you focused right now."
Roddy pulls into the same spot as earlier this afternoon, gets out, and approaches the door. The parking lot is much fuller now and other guests are out and about around the property.
Roddy said he rented two rooms. I can guess which side is ours because one side looks empty. The other side appears to be occupied. There's a car parked out front and I can see light streaming through the cracks in the curtains. The walls in this building looked paper thin. If we make any unusual noises at all in our room, the people next-door are going to hear it.
As we reach the door to the room we’ve occupied, we notice it isn’t latched and has been left slightly ajar. That can't be good. My stomach flips over inside me and I feel like I might throw up all the dinner I ate.
When Roddy sees, he takes the knife out of his pocket and opens the blade, then holds it with one fist tightly around the handle. He places his feet shoulder-width apart in a balanced stance. He's readying himself for a fight.
I tell myself once more that I'm a predator now and that I don't cower. I stand up as straight as I can and I spread my arms a little, making myself bigger. I probably look strange from the outside, but this posturing seems to help me gain confidence and a more aggressive attitude.
Roddy looks to me to make sure I'm prepared. I give him a quick nod to let him know I am. With his free hand, he holds up three fingers and counts down: three, two, one. He kicks the door open forcefully and jumps inside the room, looking systematically around the space to assess what's inside. I follow closely behind him and do the same.
We don't see anything.
Liam and Clive are gone.
The chair Clive was tied to has been broken into pieces and the blood stains beneath it have dried onto the green carpeted floor. It looks like the entire room has been ransacked. The landline phone is torn from the wall and strewn across one of the beds. It looks like there's blood on one end of the receiver. Perhaps
it was used as a weapon. The old tube-style television has a big crack in the front of the glass. One of the bedspreads has been pulled off and bunched up, tossed on the floor in between the beds.
I rush quickly to the back of the room in order to check the bathroom area. Nothing. The bathroom itself looks untouched. There was definitely a struggle that happened in the main room though. I don't know whether to think Liam had the upper hand or that Clive did. I'm very afraid for my uncle right now.
"What do we do?" I ask Roddy.
"We go to the Bi-Mart and see if Clive's truck is still there,” Roddy says. "And we clean up this blood."
"Which do we do first?" I ask.
My father-in-law is getting very angry now. He turns to look at me, enraged.
"Goddamnit, George," he says as he slaps his own thigh in frustration. "I can't always tell you what to do. I'm trying to teach you how to do things for yourself."
"I know," I say, also getting frustrated and angry. "I am doing it. But right now my uncle is missing and I want to know the shortest, best way to find him. You know better than me what to do. You're the one who is experienced with this type of thing."
"You have to be able to do it for yourself,” Roddy says.
"Why?" I ask. "You're right here. Just tell me what to do. I’ll listen and follow your instructions to the letter. I’m good at following orders. Why won’t you give them to me?"
Roddy grabs the bedding off the untouched bed and struggles with it in a display of utter frustration. He throws it down on the floor, then picks up the mattress and flips it into the air.
"Because I might not always be here," he says to me, exasperated.
Goosebumps form on my arms as I process his words and see the look on his face. If I didn't know better, I’d think there was more to the story. I wonder if something is wrong. That would explain why Roddy has been so adamant about me stepping up and taking charge. It would explain why he's let me make decisions that aren't necessarily the best. If something is wrong with him and he thinks he won't be around, then teaching me is more important than making the best decision at any given moment.
If my world wasn't already turned upside down, it sure is now. I never once considered having to face all of this without Roddy and Liam. I couldn't stand to lose one let alone both of them. With Ali not out of the woods and now this, things are piling up on me. There has to be a breaking point. I thought I’d reached mine, but maybe I’ve only scratched the surface. My God, how much worse can it get?
"Do you have something to tell me?" I ask my father-in-law.
"No, not now," he says. "That's a discussion for another day."
So there is something.
"We have the room overnight,” I say. "Let's go look for Clive's truck first. We’ll return later to clean up the room."
"Then let's roll," Roddy says as we exit the hotel room and close the door securely behind us.
We climb back in the Jeep and Roddy drives fast and hard to the Bi-Mart.
I try to move on in my mind from what Roddy said, but I can't. Maybe it's easier to focus on that right now than to think about Liam being missing. At least in the situation with Roddy, it sounds like there may be answers he could share. I think any answers at all are better than the unknown.
"Does whatever you need to tell me have anything to do with why you and Marjorie are moving to Ithaca?" I ask.
Suddenly, that decision begins to make more sense. If something is wrong and Roddy is sick, a slower pace would be better than his hectic life in Manhattan. When he's actively directing a play on Broadway, his schedule is difficult to maintain. He never does just one thing at a time. Even when he's directing a play, he's usually writing another and he's almost always involved with other aspects of production. Living in Ithaca and launching the musical theater business will allow him to slow down and enjoy an easier existence.
"Leave it alone, George,” he growls. "Focus."
"I don't want to leave it alone," I say. "My entire life seems to be falling apart. So much of what gets to me is all the unknowns. If there's a demon that I can name and face, well, then that's better. It's got to be easier to deal with than what I might imagine and build up in my mind as bigger than it actually is."
We arrive at the Bi-mart and Roddy drives through the lot systematically, up one row and down the other. It's the third time we've been in this parking lot doing the same systematic check of the vehicles. The parking lot is busy this time of the evening, but there's no sign of Clive's black truck anywhere. That probably means Clive somehow got back to his truck and drove away. That doesn’t bode well for Liam having the upper hand.
Roddy puts the Jeep in park. I can see him fuming. Without saying a word, he begins to punch the steering wheel. It buckles and creaks under the pressure. I let him get it out of his system without intervening.
Once he's done and the tension begins to recede, he leans back in his seat with his head against the headrest. His eyes begin to water. He raises his hand which is now reddened from the punches. He places his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose.
"I wasn't going to tell you," he says. "At least not yet…"
"Tell me what?" I ask.
He turns and looks at me, big tears now forming in his eyes. I’m afraid to hear what he’s about to say, but I don’t want him to think I can’t handle it. I want him to be able to confide in me. I want him to believe that I can handle the difficult parts of life and successfully lead the family.
"Just come out with it," I say. "I can take it."
"Can you though?" he asks.
It's a valid question. I've been pretty damn wishy-washy throughout everything that's happened since the January break-in. Sometimes I feel strong and I do utilize my training as a soldier, just like Roddy encourages me to do. But other times, I’m weak and I feel like I might melt into a pile of useless blubber. I'm not proud of it, but I recognize it as a reality.
"Tell me," I say.
Roddy spends another moment considering whether or not to share the information with me. Finally, he shifts his body around to face me as squarely as possible.
"I have colon cancer," he says.
I can feel the color drain right out of my face upon hearing this. It's too much at once. We need Roddy, like crazy.
"I'm going to have to start chemo soon and that treatment will sap my energy. I'll lose my strength," he says.
I take a few deep breaths to try and center myself. I wonder if I've relied on Roddy and Liam entirely too much. Both are older guys who are only human, after all. They're not invincible.
"What's the prognosis?" I ask.
“It could go either way. They caught it relatively early, but this particular type of cancer is often deadly.”
"That doesn't sound horrible," I say. "It sounds manageable, right?"
"I don't know, George," he says. "Nobody knows with this kind of thing. I'm not ready to leave this world yet, but it would be a failure on my part if I didn't prepare you to the best of my ability. Just in case."
"Damn," I say. "No pressure."
"It's the cycle of life. It’s inevitable. One day, you’ll be in shoes like mine and you’ll be looking for your boys to step up. I'm just glad I have a son-in-law who is capable of stepping up and handling things for the family. You are capable of doing that, you know?"
I sort of like this kinder, gentler treatment. I appreciate his vote of confidence in me. It means a lot.
"I can hardly believe the number of serious discussions I've had in the last few days," I say. "Here I thought the break-in was the worst thing that was going to happen to us. I thought we just had to get past that and then everything would be alright. And now look at us. We’re falling apart.“
"I'm going to teach you what I know, George,” my father-in-law says. "Even though I'm not supposed to according to the rules of my old handlers, I'm going to do it anyway. If I'm not able to be around long term, I have to do my part to keep my children and grandchildr
en safe. Teaching you is the best way I know to do that."
"Come on, now,” I say. "Don’t talk like that. You're going to be around. When chemo is finished, you'll regain your strength."
"Maybe," he says. "But we don't know that for sure. We can't count on it. George, will you take this seriously, please?"
"Yes, of course," I say. "I'll do anything you ask. I'll rise to the occasion, I promise. I may not be perfect all the time, but I'll do my absolute best to make you proud and to keep everyone safe. It's my top priority, same as it is yours."
"I know it is," he says. “You can do this."
Roddy puts his bruised hand on my shoulder and we sit like that together for what feels like nearly ten minutes before either of us moves or says anything. We're both thinking. Thinking about his cancer and thinking about Liam.
"I'm sorry to keep asking,” I begin. "But I honestly have no idea what to do next to try and find Liam. I assume you’ve tried to reach him by phone?”
"Of course, I have,” Roddy says. “His phone seems to be off-line. It goes right to voicemail without even ringing first.”
“How did you know something was wrong in the first place?” I ask.
“I received a call from Liam’s phone. When I picked up, I could hear a skirmish in the background. What we just saw in the torn-up hotel room looks exactly like what I heard."
"That's bad,” I say.
"I heard him yell like he was in pain,” Roddy says.
I wince at the thought of my uncle being hurt.
"I heard Clive's voice as well,” Roddy adds.
I try my best to think. We can't simply call the police because we'd have to tell them what we know. That would almost certainly implicate us and lead to us being arrested. Knowing about Roddy's cancer makes me even more determined to remain available for my family. I think back to the snake and how it is supposedly the symbol of fertility and life force. If that's true, why are my uncle missing and my father-in-law sick? It's all so confusing. It seems like we do, in fact, get signs from the universe, but they're often hard to interpret.
