The Aftermath

by Patrick Higgins

  “All my life. I’m a graduate of the University of Notre Dame.”

  “An excellent school. I taught there myself a few years back as interim professor,” the Catholic priest said, almost lingering with pride. Then he thought of the dire situation and sobered back up. “Then you were obviously taught patience, right?”

  “I don’t know if patience can be taught by another human being, Father...”

  “You make a good point, Mister Mulrooney. I agree that patience is best learned when dealing with life’s many experiences, especially the not so pleasant ones.”

  “Indeed. Anyway, the reason I’m so confused is that my friend Justin, well, he…” Brian hesitated.

  “He what, Mister Mulrooney?”

  “He seemed to know so much more about God and Heaven than me, yet he didn’t go to Catholic school like I did. After reading a letter he wrote me, he seemed so sure of his salvation. To the point that I think I believe him. Can you shed some light on this for me, Father?”

  Father Dunleavey rubbed his forehead. He, too, had a splitting headache. It was so bad he felt like he had a mouth full of infected teeth. Like every other priest in the parish, he was on complete overload counseling frightened, grieving parents who’d lost all their young children.

  Surely every priest and nun on the planet had throbbing headaches by now. Counseling usually took a toll on the counselor after a while. But there was more to it than just dealing with grieving parishioners. Father Dunleavey, a traditionalist Catholic in every sense of the word, was well versed in the Book of Revelation and the cataclysmic events foretold within its pages.

  Whatever happened yesterday—tragic as it was—it was spiritual in nature. Of that, the Catholic priest was certain. Was the Apocalypse coming to life before his very eyes? It couldn’t be ruled out. But until he received direct orders from Rome, he would keep his troubling thoughts to himself.

  “That’s another tough question, Mister Mulrooney, and a sensitive one at that. As for your friend who claimed to know the Truth, all I can say is before you buy into what he was selling, don’t let your many years of Catholic education go for naught. Choosing one’s religion isn’t something that’s done overnight. It takes time. And besides, you know the Catholic Church is the One True Church. Do your best to remain patient.”

  Do I? Is it? “So, that’s the order of the day, huh, patience?”

  “I’m afraid so, Mister Mulrooney, I’m afraid so.”

  “I appreciate your time, Father.”

  “Will I see you in church next Sunday?”

  “Probably not. I may try to go to New York. I really need to see my family.”

  “Feel free to call or stop by when you get back. By then I should have more concrete answers for you. It’s the least I can do for a fellow Notre Damer,” the priest said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Thanks, Father Dunleavey. I just may do that. I’ve already taken up too much of your time. I’ll let you get back to your work. Thanks for calling.”

  “My pleasure, Brian. Just hang in there, kid. Everything’ll work itself out.”

  Will it? Mulrooney replaced the phone, realizing he was no closer to the Truth now than before the priest called. This troubled him deeply.

  Mulrooney sighed. Will I ever know the Truth, the whole Truth and nothing but the Truth?

  30

  AT FIRST THE BANGING sounded like it was a million miles away. When it persisted, it roused Tamika Moseley from a deep sleep. Except for the half-hour catnap she took in her taxicab in the wee hours of the morning, this was the first real sleep she’d had since the disappearances.

  “Who in the world’s knocking at my door?” Tamika climbed out of bed. Fear gripped her. She tiptoed down the narrow hallway into the small living room.

  Tamika peeked through the tiny hole and couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Isaac. She stood there completely frozen, numb. Her heart pounded through her chest. What should I do?

  “Tamika, are you there? It’s me, Abdul.”

  “Go away, Isaac,” she yelled.

  Man, she still calls me Isaac! “Come on, Tamika, I’m here ’cause I’m concerned about the boys,” he protested.

  “How do I know you didn’t kidnap ’em?”

  So, they’re not here, Abdul thought, confirming his worst fears. “I didn’t kidnap anyone, Tamika. If I did, why would I come here? Wouldn’t be too smart, now, would it?”

  “What do you want, Isaac?” Tamika wasn’t about to open the door. Besides, she looked terrible. She didn’t want him to see her looking like this.

  “Just wanted to see my boys. When I heard all children disappeared, I got scared.”

  “Your boys. Ha! They hardly knew you!”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Little too late for sorry, Isaac!” She made sure to say Isaac with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

  “Obviously, this isn’t a good time. Just wanted to check up on y’all and make sure you’re okay, that’s all.” Since his religion taught nothing about children and grownups suddenly vanishing into thin air without a trace, Abdul was just as dumbfounded as the next person.

  Tamika heard sniffling and looked through the peephole again. Sure enough, Isaac was wiping tears from his eyes with his right hand.

  “Look Tamika,” he said, sniffling, “I know I’ve been a terrible father and husband, but it still hurts knowin’ my boys are gone. I wanted to see Jamal and Dante so many times the past few years, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The more time went by, the harder it got for me to take the first step. Anyway, sorry for causing you so much pain.”

  The grieving man pulled a business card from his wallet and jotted his cell phone number on the back of it. “If you need me for anything, anything at all, just call or text me. Please take care of yourself.” He slid the card underneath her door and left.

  Tamika started shaking uncontrollably. Just seeing him again—even if only through a peephole—and hearing his voice caused every one of her emotions to be tapped.

  Even with the unbearable pain and sorrow he’d caused her, she was thankful knowing he was still alive and apparently well. Even so, she couldn’t forgive him for abandoning the family the way he had. Least I know he didn’t kidnap my babies. One less road to travel. Perhaps Charles’ theory is true after all?

  The phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Tamika, it’s Charles Calloway. Just got your message. I was taking a nap.”

  “Yeah, I was sleeping myself.” It was uncanny how he called the moment she dismissed Isaac as a possible kidnapping suspect, and just as she was thinking of calling him again. Too Strange! Tamika wasn’t about to reveal Isaac’s visit to Charles.

  “I’m hoping you called because you want to get together today.”

  Tamika sighed, “Still thinking about it.”

  “Tell you what, come around dinnertime so we can eat before reading God’s Word together. My treat. There are plenty of good restaurants here at the hotel. That is, if they’re even open. If not, we’ll find someplace else to go.”

  “I don’t know. I feel I should be out looking for my boys.”

  “Listen, Tamika, I don’t wanna believe it happened either, but it did. I miss my family as much as you miss yours. But they’re gone. The only reason I may seem okay to you is because of the life transforming experience I had last night in my room.”

  Calloway rubbed his still-throbbing head. “As much as my heart aches, it helps knowing my family’s in Heaven right now. Your mother and two boys are there too. If you come here, I’ll prove it to you.”

  After a few moments of silence, she finally said, “Oh, why not. Besides, I haven’t eaten since Friday.”

  “Great. See you at five.”

  “See you then.” At that, Tamika ended the call.

  31

  BRIAN MULROONEY TOOK A break from his reading and stretched out on the sofa. His thoughts quickly drifted to Jacquelyn Swindell. He wondered how she wa
s holding up.

  One way to find out.

  On the third ring, she answered: “Hi, Brian,” Jacquelyn said, with a hoarse throat.

  “Hey, Jacquelyn. Just checking to see how you’re doing.”

  “Just got back from my parents’ house.”

  “You sound awful.”

  “Yeah. Think I’m catching a cold. How are things with you?”

  “To be honest, been doing lots of soul searching.”

  “Me too. Searching for answers to my many questions. How’s your family?”

  “That’s a hard one to answer,” Brian replied.

  Jacquelyn coughed then cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m really concerned for my parents.”

  “I’m sure they’re just as concerned for you.” There was a brief pause. “Anyway, the reason I called is that I’ve decided to go to New York to be with my family.”

  Even if Brian couldn’t see it, the look on Jacquelyn’s face screamed, “Why are you calling to tell me this? Instead, she said, “When are you leaving?”

  “Not sure yet. I was scheduled to fly there tomorrow with Justin and another friend. But that’s not happening. Since I no longer have a car and I can’t use my credit card to rent one, my girlfriend’s parents offered to let me borrow one of their vehicles. I’d like to be home before Thanksgiving.”

  “Okay...,” Jacquelyn’s tone suggested that she had no idea where he was going with all of this.

  Mulrooney picked up on it, “Just want you to know that if you need someone to talk to, I’m only a phone call away.”

  There was silence, then sniffling.

  “Are you okay, Jacquelyn?”

  “No, I’m not. Two days ago, I was happily married with a child on the way. Now, I’m making plans to bury my dead husband and I no longer have a child. I’m having difficulty coping with it all.” Jacquelyn took a moment to collect herself. “Tom’s never even met you.”

  “I understand,” Brian said, in a comforting tone. “Would you like me to let you go?”

  “I don’t know what I want right now,” she said, sniffling again.

  “If you’d like, I can stay in Michigan until after the funeral.”

  “That won’t be necessary. But I appreciate the kind gesture.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  It was time to level with her. “I had the strangest thing happen today. My friend Justin—the one who disappeared—left me a Gift. I opened it today and was shocked to find a Bible enclosed. Really spooked me. It’s like he knew he was leaving this planet or something. He outlined many key Bible verses for me to read. I’d love to discuss it with Renate, but that’s not gonna happen.”

  “Why not?” Jacquelyn asked. A Bible? Was Justin a Christian like Dennis? She kept it to herself.

  “She’s not into that kind of stuff, that’s all.”

  “What makes you think I am?”

  Brian hesitated, “I don’t. I just thought I could…”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore, Brian. All I know is I feel worse today than I did yesterday.”

  “Would you like to get together, Jacquelyn?”

  “We don’t have to...”

  “I know, but it sounds like you need a friend right now. I know I do.”

  Jacquelyn couldn’t argue his logic. “You’re welcome to come here if you want.”

  “I’m car-less, remember?”

  “That’s right. How could I forget?”

  Brian stood and looked out the window. “Why don’t you come here instead?”

  The very thought of seeing Brian again weighed heavily on her heart and mind. He would be forever linked to her woeful encounter at Michigan Stadium. Finally, she said, “Sure, why not?”

  “Please understand that I’m a bachelor, which means I don’t have much food in the fridge. If you’re hungry, I have plenty of cereal and macaroni and cheese...”

  Jacquelyn caught on to where Brian was going. “How does pasta, meatballs and garlic bread sound?”

  “Sounds good, actually.” Mulrooney checked his watch. “How’s seven sound?”

  “That should give me plenty of time to prepare the food. Keeping myself busy in the kitchen might be good for me now.”

  “I agree. So, see you at seven then?”

  “Yes.”

  “I look forward to it,” Brian said, ending the call.

  Mulrooney reached for his Bible and reread all the verses Justin had outlined for him. Brian became so absorbed in his reading that he totally forgot to call Renate.

  It never crossed his mind...

  32

  TAMIKA MOSELEY ARRIVED AT the Waldorf-Astoria just after five p.m. Darkness had already set in.

  Finding a parking space on 49th Street was a breeze. Tamika never bothered to feed the parking meter. With a city in shambles, she seriously doubted the police were out writing parking tickets.

  Especially after what she’d witnessed at the police precinct earlier. She was convinced her car could remain parked there for as long as she wanted, without worrying about getting a ticket or having her cab towed or stolen.

  Moseley scoffed at the notion, “Who would want to steal this mangled piece of junk?” she scoffed. “No one in their right mind!”

  Tamika went inside the hotel and was instantly struck by its elegance, and its immensity. It looked more like a museum or a cathedral than a hotel, with its lush hand-painted-ceilings and priceless works of art hung on walls everywhere.

  She couldn’t help but feel way under dressed, wearing denim jeans, a gray sweatshirt and a pair of old beat up Adidas sneakers.

  I shouldn’t be here! I’m a taxi driver, not some millionaire!

  Much like Mitzi’s Delicatessen, the Waldorf was full of people. With New York City being one of the largest business meccas in the world, Tamika quickly deduced that many out-of-towners were now stranded here, much like Charles Calloway.

  Tamika ambled toward a massive handmade clock situated 30 feet or so from the front desk. She read the inscription and learned it was handcrafted in the 19th Century by the Goldsmith Company of London, England, for the Chicago World Fair in 1893.

  At the fair’s conclusion, the clock was purchased by the Waldorf-Astoria. It served as a bragging right of sorts over all other luxury hotels scattered all across the huge metropolis.

  Standing nine feet in height, each detail was carried out to perfection. From the gold-dipped Statue of Liberty statuette standing atop the clock, to the four golden eagles resting just beneath her wings, protecting her, to the beautifully hand sculpted faces of seven American Presidents and Queen Victoria—it was truly a masterpiece.

  Charles Calloway was seated on a chair in the lobby next to his good friend, Santana Jiles. With tears in his eyes, Jiles recounted how he and his colleagues were being served lunch when people suddenly vanished into thin air. His most vivid memory was of a waiter carrying a tray full of empty salad plates when, poof, he was gone. The tray hit the chair next to his and fell to the floor.

  Jiles shook his head. “After a few panicked screams,” he said somberly, a faraway look on his face, “there was total silence.”

  Calloway then described Richard Figueroa’s frightening disappearance inside the taxicab. Jiles should have been horrified but wasn’t. It was just another tragic story in a day so full of them.

  Charles wanted to tell his friend what he believed happened to Richard and why, but it was evident that Santana was too still shell-shocked to wrap his mind around it now.

  Like Charles, Jiles had always proclaimed to be a Christ follower—he was even a longtime member at Calloway’s father’s church in Atlanta—but very seldom attended Sunday services.

  Perhaps after he got back to Georgia and had ample time to grieve his many losses, Jiles would finally be open to the true Gospel of Jesus Christ. Just not now.

  Calloway’s eyes scanned the lobby. He spotted Tamika standing by the clock. Knowing he would be stranded in New York for quite
some time, he made plans to meet with Jiles for breakfast in the morning, then strolled over to meet his dinner guest.

  “Nice clock, huh?”

  “Ooh, you scared me!” Tamika said, recognizing his voice.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s okay. Sorry I’m a little late.” Tamika’s eyes were puffy and bloodshot.

  “Don’t mention it. Just thankful you made it here safely.” Charles paused. “The good news is three of the hotel’s restaurants are open. What are you hungry for?”

  “Honestly, I don’t feel hungry just yet, but I’ll try to eat somethin’. Do they have chicken?”

  “I haven’t checked, but everyone has chicken, right?”

  “I guess you right.” Tamika looked down at her feet. “Just not used to this kinda fancy place.”

  “Relax. Just be yourself, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best mis…I mean Charles.” Since becoming a taxicab driver a few years back, Tamika had developed the habit of calling every strange man she came in contact with, “mister.”

  “Shall we?”

  Tamika nodded wearily.

  They stood in line for a table at one of the restaurants. Not surprisingly, many of his colleagues were also in line waiting.

  Nodding to a fellow colleague, Calloway spoke softly enough that only Tamika could hear him, “You know it’s funny, I came to New York to teach these people what I did to become successful. But after what happened last night up in my room, I’m even more anxious to tell ’em about Jesus. Just not tonight.”

  “Why’s that?” Tamika asked.

  “Because I wanna give you my full, undivided attention. Besides, I doubt any of us will get out of New York for quite some time. That’ll give me plenty of time to tell them.”

  After waiting nearly an hour, they were seated.

  A waiter approached. With Tamika’s permission, Charles ordered Chicken Marsala for the both of them.