Chasing Manhattan

by John Gray

  On one such walk, he took Scooter beyond the wall of trees and found a single-lane gravel road that ran behind several of the nearby properties, including Chase’s. Gavin assumed it was a maintenance road for workers to make deliveries and have less conspicuous access.

  He told Chase, “Whoever is taking the roses at night must be using that road to drive in, then cutting through the trees on foot to retrieve them.”

  Chase thought about this and agreed, so after pouring coffee into a pair of large travel mugs, the two of them hopped into Gavin’s truck and drove around the block to access the gravel road. It was pitch dark, making it no easy task, but with Chase aiming a flashlight out of the truck’s window, they found it. Chase left three candles burning on the patio behind her house, so when they drove up the gravel road, they could peek through and make sure they were in the right spot.

  Gavin parked the truck off the road, in a spot where they wouldn’t be seen. The cold December night was black as a witch’s hat, but with the help of a flashlight, he could just make out the shape of the rock wall and the yellow rose on top.

  Now they’d wait to see who or what came for the flower. Who or what? Did Chase think a mysterious creature from the woods was taking the rose? It was that kind of silliness that crept into your head when you were playing Nancy Drew with your best friend in the dark.

  “You okay?” Gavin asked. “I can tell your mind is off someplace again.”

  Chase squeezed his hand and said, “I’m here, babe, don’t worry. Thank you for doing this with me.”

  Gavin held her hand tight, telling her, without words, that they were indeed a team.

  As Chase looked out the window at the moonless night, she mumbled quietly to herself, “The watch, the window, the rose. Sounds like a Disney movie.”

  Gavin didn’t catch what she said, asking, “What, hon?”

  She smiled and replied, “Nothing, babe.”

  The two took turns choosing the music on the truck’s radio, Gavin going for country and classic rock, Chase opting for pop and hip-hop.

  By 3 a.m., when no one appeared to gather the flower, both were fading fast, so they decided to take shifts the way cops do on stakeouts. Gavin would keep watch from 3 to 4 a.m. while she slept. Chase would then take 4 to 5 a.m. while Gavin napped, and so on.

  It was during the third hour of watch, just before 6 a.m., when Gavin saw headlights approaching in the distance. He quickly killed the engine on his own truck, making it silent as well as invisible. A dark colored SUV drove right by, not noticing Gavin’s truck hiding in the shadows.

  The sun was almost up over the horizon, casting a faint light that farmers call false dawn. The light was just bright enough to see a man of small stature exit the SUV, careful not to slam the door shut, and make his way to the row of trees that bordered Chase’s property. He vanished into them, prompting Gavin to nudge his sleepy girlfriend, “Hey, wake up, it’s show time.”

  Chase rubbed her eyes and took a moment to remember where she was, and then those tired eyes grew wide as she asked, “Someone’s here?”

  Gavin pointed and said, “Watch the row of trees and, bam, there he is,” just as the mystery man reappeared and returned with something in his left hand. Dark as it was, there was just enough light to tell he was holding something small and yellow.

  “That’s our flower thief,” Gavin said with a smile.

  The man went to his vehicle, closed the door gently, did a quick U-turn, and drove back in the direction from which he had first come.

  “Wait, not yet,” Chase said, worried Gavin might give their position away too soon. Gavin waited another beat before firing up the truck and cranking on the heater to warm their legs and feet.

  “Here we go, Sherlock Holmes,” Chase said with a smile.

  Gavin waited until they hit the main road to turn his headlights on and begin his pursuit. Whoever was driving the SUV was not in a hurry, so Gavin stayed back, never taking his eyes off the man’s taillights.

  They weren’t more than a mile or two down the road when he saw a right directional blinking, and Gavin mirrored the man’s every move. After turning right, he soon saw a left directional engage, and the vehicle with the mystery driver slowly turned into Mt. Moriah Cemetery.

  “I KNEW IT,” Chase exclaimed. “We called it.”

  Gavin remembered what they had discussed the night before about Vida Winthrop loving yellow roses and her husband Sebastian keeping a promise to always bring her one, even after death. Gavin couldn’t help thinking there was something terribly romantic and sad about it at the same time.

  Chase’s mind was on the article she wrote in the New Yorker, telling the world that this wealthy man wasn’t really about money, it was a love story from start to finish. In this case, even beyond the finish of life.

  Gavin didn’t want to spook the man delivering the rose to Vida’s grave, so he killed the truck’s lights and took a parallel road in the cemetery, parking a short distance away.

  “So now what?” he asked Chase. “Have we gone far enough, or do you need to actually see him putting the rose on her grave?”

  Maybe Gavin was overtired, but there was a hint of sarcasm in his tone, so Chase shot him a look and said, “In for a penny, in for a dime, I say.”

  With that she popped her passenger side door and stepped down from the truck. Gavin got out right after her, and the two of them slowly made their way through the rows of gravestones, each telling short stories of people who were once here and now gone.

  The sun was peeking over the horizon now, making the light noticeably better, as the pair watched the man walk with the rose toward a small fenced-in area of the cemetery. A black gate was surrounded by a wrought iron fence that housed a half-dozen headstones, separate from all the others in the graveyard. It was like a private cemetery in the middle of the cemetery.

  The man’s walk and steps were slow and shaky at times, indicating he must be quite old. No doubt, too old to be playing florist in the dark of night on uneven ground. From this distance, they couldn’t make out his face, so Chase and Gavin hid quietly, watching him open the latch and enter the private burial plot.

  There was a large statue of Jesus laying his hands on someone who was kneeling, perhaps healing the sick. Even in this bad light it looked majestic, exactly the kind of extravagant marker you’d expect to find at the grave of a wealthy man. It was mounted on a large white marble pedestal with the names Sebastian and Vida Winthrop etched in large letters below.

  The man, in a long dark overcoat and a gray felt fedora hat, took the lone rose and approached the large stone. Chase elbowed Gavin as if to say SEE, TOLD YA. Gavin silently nodded his head, impressed with Chase’s ability to solve any puzzle.

  Yet the true puzzle was about to reveal itself, when the elderly man walked by the large stone and disappeared behind it. There was something back there, but neither Chase nor Gavin could see it.

  Suddenly, the man appeared again, the rose missing from his hand, taking a seat on a cast iron bench just to the right of the grave. He rested his hat on the empty seat next to him, took a deep breath, and then said out loud, “Are you two going to stay in the shadows all morning or come talk to me?”

  Gavin and Chase were secluded behind a large gravestone twenty feet away, but there was no mistaking that the man on the bench was talking to them.

  “Um, hello?” Chase said, as she took Gavin’s hand and yanked him out of their hiding spot.

  Slowly they approached and carefully opened the gate to the private plot, as Gavin said, “We’re so sorry to bother you, sir, we just, uh, we just were curious who was taking the rose every night.”

  The man didn’t turn to look at them. Instead, he slowly took off his black leather gloves and said, “I told him when he wrote that letter nobody was going to follow his silly rules.”

  Chase thought the voice sounded familiar, so she inched closer trying to make out the face in the shadows, finally saying, “Hello, sir, my name i
s …”

  “Chase,” he replied, “You’re Chase Harrington, the nice young lady who wrote that lovely article about my friend.”

  Chase’s jaw dropped as she called out, “SAMUEL? Is that Samuel from the bridge in Central Park?”

  The older man stood up, hat in hand now, and took a half bow, “One and the same.”

  Gavin smiled now. “So you’re the person taking the roses?”

  Samuel turned his eyes toward Gavin and responded in a most serious way, “A promise to your best friend is a promise to your best friend. And when that friend says bring my girl a rose every morning, you do it! Without question. Do you disagree?”

  Gavin, being a gentleman who honored friendship, nodded, “No sir. I totally understand.”

  Samuel smiled, pointed at Gavin and replied, “You only think you do.”

  Gavin had no idea what that meant. Just then, Chase looked around Vida and Sebastian’s stone and saw the rose was nowhere to be found, prompting her ask, “If you’re bringing the rose to Vida, where is it?”

  Samuel looked at Chase now, replying, “I never said I brought the flower to Vida.”

  Chase, clearly confused said, “But who then …”

  With that, Samuel waved his hand, gesturing for the two of them to enter further and see what they could not see from just inside the gate. Hiding behind the large gravestone was a much smaller white stone with an angel, smiling and holding a heart in his hands. On the sides of the heart there were wings.

  The perfectly shaped heart looked exactly like the drawing Chase and Gavin had seen in the window at the house, the same emblem they had seen at the children’s hospital.

  Chase tentatively moved closer to the tiny grave and saw one word carved in large letters: ROSE. Beneath that, in a slightly smaller font, it read, Forever Our Angel.

  Chase had done extensive research when writing the article about Sebastian and Vida Winthrop, prompting her to say to Samuel, “But they didn’t have children. So … who is Rose?”

  Samuel sat back down and tapped the seat next to him on the bench, encouraging Chase to join him. Gavin approached the child’s grave and saw beneath the beautiful angel and heart was the yellow rose that he had placed on the rock wall behind the house only hours earlier.

  Samuel explained. “Years ago, when Sebastian and Vida started helping the children’s hospital, they met a lot of great kids. But one in particular was special; her name was …”

  Gavin, still staring at the stone, called out, “Rose.”

  “That’s right, young man,” Samuel said. “Rose was born with a tumor where the spinal cord attaches to the brain. Her parents were told she’d never live beyond the age of two and would need constant expensive care, which they could not afford.”

  Samuel stopped to make certain both Gavin and Chase were listening to the next part, then added, “So they left her, at birth, right there in a crib at St. Mary’s hospital.”

  Gavin came to stand by Chase’s side now, and she took his hand.

  Samuel continued, “Sebastian and Vida met her when she was almost three, and she didn’t even have a full name. Everyone just called her Rose, because she was beautiful like the flower.”

  Samuel glanced at the angel statue, now adding, “At first they’d visit her at the hospital, in the residential wing where the children who are very sick live full time. But when it got toward the end, when she was getting very sick, they decided to take her home so she wouldn’t face what was coming, alone.”

  Chase was filling up with tears at the thought of it, her voice cracking as she asked, “My home, where I live now?”

  Samuel replied, “Yes, dear. They brought nurses in round the clock, and she received the best care and was made comfortable for several months. On her good days, you’d find Rose running around that big house. I even played board games with her sometimes. We kept them in a room off the den.”

  Chase covered her mouth, trying to push back the tears. “Yes, we know. I mean, we saw those games.”

  Gavin, then looking at Chase, said, “That’s why there was Candyland and Chutes and Ladders with the adult games. They had a little girl with them.”

  Up until that moment, neither Chase nor Gavin had ever wondered why a home without children would have children’s games. Now it made perfect sense.

  Chase then asked, “Did she, by any chance, like to play Scrabble?” Samuel smiled and, in a surprised voice, replied, “Now, how did you know that?”

  Chase started to cry, and Gavin gave her shoulder a squeeze to comfort her.

  Samuel corrected himself. “Actually, when I say play Scrabble it wasn’t like you or I would play. Rose liked to shake the letters up, dump them out and spell words that she knew. Cat. Dog. Bug. You know, most children under five can’t spell a single word, but Rose was sharp.”

  Chase and Gavin were smiling now at the thought of it. They could picture a beautiful child sitting on that thick rug in the den laying out the little wooden tiles.

  Samuel continued. “Her favorite letter was R, for Rose of course. Most days you’d find Rose walking around the house with the ‘R’ from the Scrabble game in her tiny hand. Watching TV, playing with her dolls, sitting in the kitchen eating frosted flakes; that little wooden R was right there with her.”

  Samuel looked off, as if trying to retrieve a memory, then added, “In fact, she lost that letter not long before she died. We looked everywhere but couldn’t find it.”

  Gavin turned to Chase, who was a mess now with tears, whispering, “That’s the missing letter. Remember the first time we played Scrabble and counted the tiles, one was missing.”

  Chase nodded and said, “There were only ninety-nine. I remember we counted twice.”

  Gavin replied, “Rose had it.”

  Samuel’s own eyes were filling with tears, as he said, “The things that little girl could have been, if she were only able to grow up. They said she’d never see the age of two, but Rose lived four years, seven months, three days.”

  Chase collected herself, as Gavin walked back over to the child’s grave, pointed, and then asked, “This heart the angel is holding. We saw it in the window back in the library. We wondered, which one drew it on the glass, Vida or Sebastian?”

  Samuel got up, joined Gavin near the stone, touched the heart, and said, “Neither.”

  He looked up from the heart and added, “Rose drew it.”

  Chase’s head spun around to look at Samuel, “Rose?”

  Samuel answered, “Yes, ma’am. They had an early frost one October, and the heat wasn’t turned up in the library yet, so those panes of glass all glazed over with ice. Rose went out in the yard, got up on a chair to reach the center window, and with her tiny finger drew a heart with angel wings. She said, um …”

  Samuel stopped now, biting his bottom lip, which was quivering. It was clear he was getting too emotional to speak, the memory too strong. Gavin asked, “Are you all right, sir?”

  Samuel clinched his hand in a fist as if to catch the sadness sweeping through his body and squeeze it away.

  He then finished his thought. “She said she knew she was sick and going to heaven soon, and then Rose said, ‘I’m giving my heart wings because I’ll be getting my angel wings soon.’”

  After a long pause he added, “God bless that child.”

  No one knew what to say. Gavin broke the silence: “Samuel, did you know they use her heart with wings at the hospital? We saw it on the telethon video.”

  Samuel perked up at that thought, responding, “Oh yes, I know. I was there when they built that place. Did you see her picture? They have photos of, um, I think it’s five kids who all passed away, on the wall in the children’s playroom.”

  Gavin and Chase both searched their minds for the images they saw in the telethon video when Chase snapped her fingers and said, “The girl in the center photograph in the bright yellow dress with the curly hair!”

  Samuel gave Chase a smile, “That’s right. That’s our
Rose. Yellow was her favorite color.”

  Gavin put his arm around Chase now, and said, “So all this time, placing yellow roses on the rock wall. Rose was never just a flower.”

  Chase looked at the grave. “She was an angel.”

  Samuel picked up his hat and added, “Indeed she was, and now you know why you put them out each night. It’s for her.”

  Chase and Gavin sensed it was time to go, when Samuel added, “Do you remember when I met you, Chase, I told you everyone got it wrong. How Sebastian’s story was really a love story?”

  Chase wiped a tear away and said, “I do, Samuel. And now I see it was more of a love story than even I knew. He had love for two special girls.”

  Samuel started toward the gate and touched the statue with Vida and Sebastian’s names, answering, “Yes, he did. And he adored them both.”

  After closing the gate behind him, Samuel slowly made his way toward his car, calling out, “I do hope you’ll keep those roses coming. One on the rock wall. Every night. Thank you.”

  As the taillights of his car vanished over the hill, the sunrise was in full splendor now, making even a cemetery look breathtaking.

  In the shadow of Rose’s angel statue, Gavin took Chase in his arms and said, “Manchester and now here …”

  There was a long pause as Gavin took a deep breath, finally saying, “I don’t know if you are drawn to these amazing things by forces we can’t see, or if the opposite is true and your mere presence conjures up this magic.”

  Chase looked back into his loving eyes, not sure what to say, as Gavin added, “Just know, it doesn’t matter. What I do know for absolute certain is you are special, Chase, and I love you.”

  The short ride home was quiet. Chase busy thinking about an important decision she needed to make regarding the future, while Gavin focused on finding someone from the past. If it all went as planned, the lady of Briarcliff Manor was about to see how all things connect, and sometimes dreams really do come true.

  CHAPTER 33

  Not Again

  The next week went by uneventfully as Chase and Gavin both kept busy with their own secret projects. Chase received several calls from Clayton Philmont, the wealthy brother of Peter, formerly known as Oscar, pressuring her to sell him the mansion. When he had arrived in his fancy car weeks earlier, Clayton had offered full value for the property, plus an additional five percent. In the days since, he bumped his offer up another ten, fifteen, then twenty percent, making it $4.8 million. He told Chase, in his last message, that he’d go to an even five, if they could get it done quickly.