by Sofie Hern
“Sounds good,” says Poole and turns to leave. When he sees that Ken isn’t moving, he murmurs, “I'll just show myself out.”
Moments later, Ken hears the suburban drive away and he stands to turn the lights off. He lights another cigarette, then opens the blinds and continues to watch the rain.
–
He’s confident that his new plan will work. He’s been in the business for fifteen years and even though it brings in good money he isn’t satisfied. He wants more, he wants to buy a house—no, not a house, a mansion. He wants fancy cars like the ones rich tourists drive around town. A Lamborghini or a Maserati, or both. Why not? He’ll buy a yacht, retire in ten years and travel the world.
He’s running a perfect scam with an elaborate process. The first and most important part is to pick the right candidates, preferably low-income families. Not that they are stupid, mind you, only… misinformed. Undocumented candidates make perfect marks because those candidates live in the shadows and are less likely to report any wrongdoing to the authorities.
Cheap healthcare attracts most victims and Ken’s brother, Eugene, who is a nurse, assists Poole in performing a physical examination of the victims, then make them believe that they suffer from a rare form of heart disease. The patient—or victim or whatever you want to call them—are prescribed medication created in their very own lab, a nondescript warehouse near Enterprise.
–
During World War II the cyanide pill or L-pill was developed for British and American agents going behind enemy lines. The small pill was filled with a solution of potassium cyanide. The agents carried these in their mouths and to use them, they would bite the pea-size pill to release the poison.
Obviously, only the smallest fraction of that substance is in Poole’s perfected formula to avoid any attention and detection. His formula allows the presence of the poison in the blood to decrease by seventy-eight percent prior to an autopsy, should the loved ones request one.
Cyanide disrupts the transport of oxygen. Without oxygen, the cells are unable to produce ATP (Adenosine Triphosphate), which is needed by the body to perform natural functions. The heart is pure muscle, when it can no longer function, cardiac arrest ensues.
–
Ken’s part of the business is less complicated but just as risky. In the business, this method is known as phony policy fraud. After the diagnosis is given, Ken offers the victim an affordable life insurance plan to help cover their final expenses and Ken’s insurance agency pockets the premiums. Some victims choose to opt-out, but most don’t. It is a luxury they can’t otherwise afford.
Soon after the death of a loved one, the families receive enough money to pay for a funeral while Ken’s company profits from the rest. It’s an excruciatingly slow process, one that requires months and months of patience.
Why kill? You may be asking yourself. Why not simply sell the bogus insurance policy and move on to the next mark? Why go through all the trouble of making the formula, the physical examination, the diagnosis, and all that bullshit, when all you really need is a name? Well, where’s the fun in that?
32
IRENE
“What happened to your TV?” Levy asks while buckling his pants.
“Long story,” Irene calls from the kitchen. She takes two glasses and a bottle of wine in the family room where moments ago, she and Levy enjoyed each other. Boy, did she need that? Her body had gone limp with pleasure and the stress from the previous week evaporated—momentarily, at least.
She places the glasses on the coffee table and pours some wine, giving one glass to Levy, and one for herself, then they sit quietly for a moment, facing each other.
“So what’s so damn urgent to make me come all the way up here?”
She eyes him over the rim of her glass and says, “I need your help with something. I know you're taking the boy, but I need more.”
“More… of what exactly? ‘Cause if it’s money I ain’t giving you shit.”
“Money?” she says and snorts out a laugh. “I don’t give a shit about your money. What I need is much more important. I need my husband to come home.”
Levy laughs a thunderous laugh that echoes in the room, but when he sees the look on her face, he stops. Her look is a mixture of annoyance and misery.
“What? You want me to drag him here by the balls? I’m not your fucking messenger boy.” He puts the glass on the table, takes out a cigarette from his jacket and lights up.
Irene takes the cigarette from him to take a drag then gives it back. She hasn’t smoked in years and her lungs expand with pleasure.
Levy leans back on the sofa. “Once I take my boy, I'm done with this shit,” he tells her.
“I need one last favor before you leave.” She’s sitting at the edge of the sofa with one hand holding the glass and the other on Levy’s thigh. “And you’ll never see me again,” she says. “After this, we need to go our separate ways and never contact each other. Burn this bridge, Levy. And don’t ever let the boy contact Adam. Got it?”
“If I do this, whatever the fuck it is, will you leave me the fuck alone?”
“After you do this, you’ll never hear from me again.”
“What is it?”
They discuss the details of the plan, the pros, and cons, the ramifications and possibilities. The plan is simple: take the boy and burn Tianna’s house down. Irene calculates that with the house rendered to a pile of ash, Adam will have nowhere to go but back home, where he belongs. After they reach an agreement, they make a toast.
“To us,” says Irene and drinks the rest of her wine.
“Why do you want him back, anyway?”
She speaks without looking at him. “I love him more than anything. You have no idea how much I need him and that my whole life depends on him. He’s everything to me.” She turns to him now, with a serious look in her eye. “I’m determined to get him back. No matter what.”
He gives her a slow nod and stands. “Getting’ outta here now, baby. Let me know when it’s all set. I have to get shit ready for the boy” He kisses her lips and leaves.
–
With a much lighter weight on her shoulders and hope in her heart, Irene takes the bottle, glasses and cigarette butt to the kitchen then calls Julia.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sis!”
“Hi, Irene.”
“Can I borrow your parents’ house key?” Irene says as she walks up to her room.
“What? Why?”
“So, Adam’s staying there for a few days and I offered to help around the house, you know, clean and stuff like that.”
“So why don’t you ask him for one? Surely Tianna has changed the locks since mom and dad died?”
“I can give it a try. I want it to be a surprise, you know?”
Julia is quiet for a moment and then says, “Sure. I'll bring it on Sunday.”
“Perfect! Okay, I’m going to take a nap now.”
“Irene?”
“Yes?”
“What was Levy doing at the funeral?”
The question doesn’t surprise, but annoys her. “That was the mother of his kid for Christ’s sake. He wanted to be there so I invited him.”
“Does it have anything to do with Aaron?”
“Only that he wanted to see him, that’s all. But don’t you worry, he’s gone now.”
“Okay. Well, please be careful. Ken thinks Levy’s up to no good.”
“As I said, he’s gone.”
Silence.
Irene worries because Julia has been acting strange lately. Does she know about her and Ken? “Are you okay?”
“I...”
“What is it, Jul?”
“I want this to be over.”
“And it is. You'll see.”
“Thanks, Irene. See you on Sunday.”
33
AARON
Aaron, Uncle Adam, and Jaycob spent the rest of Friday evening playing video games. They took turns on a racing game in wh
ich Uncle Adam won all five times. Jaycob beat Aaron in a basketball game, but then Aaron evened the score in a baseball game.
Rita was super nice bringing the game system—not only bringing it but leaving it here. Since he couldn’t sleep, he and Rita texted back and forth after he had gone to bed. Uncle Adam said he could sleep in his mom’s room that night and Aaron knew that it was because come tomorrow her room was going to look different. At 9:30 he started to get sleepy so he told Rita good night.
–
He wakes up and looks around the room, linking his fingers behind his head, on his mom’s bed and listens to the rain falling on the roof.
Saturdays are his most favorite day. Well, it used to be. In the morning, he and his mom would walk to Rocco’s Diner on Water Street to have breakfast and his mom allowed him to order from the adult menu. He’d order a humongous Belgian waffle with strawberries and whipped cream, which he could never finish, while his mom ordered a veggie omelet with toast and coffee. Then they’d go run errands; to the post office, the bank, the grocery store. Sometimes to a shelter to help put goody bags together or help make care packages for the troops overseas. Jaycob would join them sometime too, whenever he could.
Now he can hear Uncle Adam and Jaycob talking in the kitchen along with the sound of frying bacon, making Aaron’s stomach growl. He gets out of bed and goes to the bathroom. He chooses not to brush his teeth because he doesn’t much like the combination of toothpaste and orange juice.
–
He finds Jaycob sitting at the table, drinking coffee and he smiles when Aaron walks in. Uncle Adam is facing the stove and turns to greet him. “Good morning.”
Aaron pulls out a chair and sits next to Jaycob then Uncle Adam places a plate with eggs and bacon in front of Aaron.
“Hey! I was here first,” exclaims Jaycob, winking at Aaron and smiles.
“But I'm special,” Aaron teases and they laugh, but Jaycob finally gets his plate.
“There. Happy?” says Uncle Adam with a smile.
Aaron takes a glass from the cupboard and pours orange juice, empties the contents into the glass and shows the empty carton to Uncle Adam. “We forgot OJ yesterday,” he says and sits down.
Uncle Adam sits next to him and takes a drink from his coffee. “How'd you sleep?” he asks Aaron.
“Good.”
“We're packing your mom’s things today.” Uncle Adam tells him.
When his grandparents died, a therapist told Aaron that it was best to remove their things sooner rather than later, or it could become more difficult. The therapist told his mom that it was for closure or something to that effect.
They eat in silence, then Jaycob starts clearing the table. “Sorry, guys,” he says, “Wish I could help but can’t.”
“Why not?” says Uncle Adam.
Jaycob is facing the sink. “I have things to do,” he says without looking at them. Aaron assumes that Jaycob isn’t ready for this step yet. Neither is Aaron, to be honest, but he knows it’s for their own good. Having his mom’s things in her room makes it sadder because she’ll never be here again. He takes his plate to the sink for Jaycob to wash and glances from Jaycob to Uncle Adam, worried that they’ll start to fight. He then goes to Uncle Adam and says, “I'll help.”
“Okay, buddy.”
Aaron doesn’t leave the kitchen until he’s sure that his uncles aren’t going to start fighting like they did the day Aaron’s mom died. He walks away thinking how strange, it’s going to be getting used to his two uncles being in the same house and the realization makes him smile.
–
He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth, then to his room to get changed into his day clothes. He hears the voices from the kitchen and is relieved that it doesn’t sound like fighting, then takes his dirty clothes to the laundry room. Uncle Adam told him that he’ll be responsible for the laundry and that when the hamper gets full Uncle Adam is going to teach him how to wash clothes. He’s looking forward to it, but is a bit disappointed because the hamper isn’t even half full.
–
In his mom’s room, after Jaycob leaves, they start making piles of stuff labeled keepers and donations. Aaron is on his knees sorting clothes and the longer they’re in the room, separating stuff, the harder it is. Looking at all the clothes his mom used to wear every day is painful. His chest feels tight and like it’s burning inside.
He’s sad because he can’t remember the clothes his mom was wearing the last time he saw her. There are clothes he can vividly recall her wearing, but not those. There’s the black T-shirt she wore when they went to see The Lego Movie. Then there’s the blue shirt she was wearing when they went to an Aviators game, the one she spilled mustard on when her hotdog fell while she was trying to catch a foul ball. He sees the one from the zoo, one from the school picnic. There are so many memories hiding in her closet that Aaron wants to keep but know he can’t.
“It sucks that she’s gone,” he says.
Uncle Adam is on a step ladder gathering things from the top shelf of the closet and looks down to Aaron. “I know, buddy.”
While Aaron is putting clothes in bags, Uncle Adam comes down the ladder, dusts off his hands and goes to Aaron.
“If you can’t do this today, we… we can wait.”
“I'm okay,” says Aaron, picking up a new bag. He opens it, then stops and turns to his uncle who is on his knees labeling a box.
“How come you don't cry?”
Uncle Adam looks surprised by the question and stops labeling. He turns to Aaron who is now sitting on the floor, with his back against the bed.
“What do you mean?” His uncle joins him on the floor.
“I never see you cry. Not at the funeral or when she died. I'm wondering how you do it. When grandma and grandpa died you didn't cry either. Don’t you miss them?”
“Oh, I miss them every day, buddy. I miss their voice, their laughter. Them just being here, you know?”
“So how come you don’t cry for them?”
Uncle Adam doesn’t answer for a little while, then clears his throat. “I… I want to appear strong. I want to show people that I can handle stuff and that I’m there for them.”
“Like for me and Jake?”
“Mmm-hmm… but I cry. I don't know. I just don't show it.”
“Are you embarrassed?”
“It makes me uncomfortable to cry in front of people. Like, for example, is there something that you don't like to do in front of people?”
Aaron thinks about this for a moment and says, “I don't like reading in front of people, like in front of the class? Sometimes I get embarrassed because I read super slow.”
“That’s how I feel.”
Aaron nods. “Makes sense,” he says and goes back to filling the bags while Uncle Adam labels boxes.
A few moments pass, then Aaron says, “Do you think I’m brave even when I cry?”
Uncle Adam turns to him and sits back on his haunches. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met, Aaron. What you’re doing right now? Helping with this difficult process is the bravest thing anybody can do. You’ve more courage than I do because you don’t hide your feelings; they don’t scare you. Tears are not shameful, Aaron. Okay? Never forget that.”
The boy nods and smiles.
They continue to work and talk and share stories. Aaron is glad that his uncle is here with him. He knows they’ll be okay and knows, also, that Uncle Adam is brave; he only has to pretend not crying so others don’t get sad and that takes guts.
Their final task, which they do together, is to unpack the suitcase and bag they were supposed to take to Reno one week ago.
34
ADAM
I feel like a stranger in the house. I’m not sure how Tianna did things, her schedule, when to wake Aaron for school, when to put him to bed or when he’ll start playing baseball again in the spring. Last week, on the days he went to school, the mornings were a complete disaster and he was late two out of
the three days he attended. I wonder how much more hectic it’s going to get when I go back to work tomorrow. The one with a better understanding of the schedule is Jaycob but working nights won’t allow him to contribute as much because he has to sleep during the day.
I still have to find the time to go to Irene's to pick up the rest of my stuff. I’m putting it off, but I need to get my work clothes and whatever else l need. She continues to call, but I don’t answer. Jordyn and I talk every day and she tells me that her mom is doing well, that she decided it’s time for a little house maintenance, which is what I hoped for. She’s taking my leaving better than I expected and now she can focus her attention on Jordyn.
The girl is at a critical stage in her life when every grade at school counts because she’ll be applying for college pretty soon. She’s such a talented artist. As a young girl, she’d spend hours sketching and carried her sketchbook everywhere. Her plan is to attend the Kirkland Art and Design Institute in Colorado. She’ll be near her brother, Colin, who lives in Littleton. Her grades are quite good and I know it’ll be an amazing opportunity for her.
–
The storm passed during the night, leaving the streets wet and slick. I run my usual route, trying to shake off the nightmares that plague me and wonder what it all means. My mother was a great believer that dreams are some sort of signs. How would she interpret mine? Let go, she’d say. But how can I? Tianna was the love of my life. She wasn’t an obsession, as Irene said many times. Or was she? My pace is slow and steady. A few people are out walking their dogs, fellow joggers cross my path and I nod in acknowledgment. A few houses already have Christmas decorations with their lights still on, casting a colorful reflection off the wet pavement.
–
After breakfast, Jaycob supervises the laundry boy while I do my best to tidy up the rest of the house and I think the three of us make a great team. With the house cleaned and laundry done, we load the Jeep with Tianna’s things.