A Future and a Hope

by David Mathews

  The bus made several more stops before leaving the neighborhood for the downtown business district. At each stop he was tempted to jump out of his car and get on the bus himself. But with only one or two people getting on each time, and his legs hurting the way they were, he was afraid it would turn into another scene like the one in front of the apartment.

  Not wanting to risk it, he decided to wait until Ellie got off. Caleb tailed the bus all the way into the downtown area. Traffic was really beginning to pick up now. The bus made a right turn onto Second Street and eased to the curb next to a large, open air plaza.

  They were only a block away from where he’d seen Ellie Wednesday afternoon. A car suddenly cut in front of him and pulled up behind the bus to let out its passenger.

  Caleb braked hard and wheeled his Camaro to the curb within inches of the other car. People had begun to file off the bus and scatter in all directions.

  As quickly as he could, he exited his car and limped to the side of the bus. It was more than half empty. He craned to see through the windows, but the glint of the morning sun on the tinted glass obstructed his view of the interior. When the stream of riders ceased, he clamored up the steps and looked down the aisle.

  The bus was empty.

  “Can I help you?” the middle-aged driver asked, looking at him suspiciously.

  “Uh . . . I thought I saw someone I know get on a few miles back.” Caleb made a hasty retreat and looked around the plaza.

  There were hundreds of people going every which way. He felt a familiar sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’d lost her again.

  He was about to turn back to his car, which by now had drawn the attention of a city patrolman on a bicycle, when he spied the bouncing auburn hair in a group of people entering the revolving glass doors of the high rise office building to the far left of the plaza.

  “ELLIE!” he shouted, waving his arms.

  But the woman didn’t turn around, and was swept along with the others into the open mouth of the hungry edifice.

  He broke into a run, but it was more like an out-of-balance trot. His hips and legs were on fire. Ignoring the pain, he pushed into the crowd waiting to go single file through the doors. Caught up in the throng, he suddenly found himself in the noisy, cavernous lobby, surrounded by people who all seemed determined to get where they were going by the shortest route and in the least amount of time possible.

  “ELLIE!” he shouted above the din, but only a few people walking past him even gave him a glance.

  Looking around, he spied a large cluster of people waiting for the elevators to his far left. On the chance that she might be heading to one of the many upper floors, Caleb moved in that direction. The doors of three elevators opened, and the crowd surged forward. He frantically scanned the back of people’s heads.

  There were just too many people.

  He’d have to pick one elevator. Throwing up a quick prayer, he focused on the closest door. One by one the people stepped through the opening and turned to face him. The last person stepped through and turned around.

  It was Ellie.

  Caleb lunged forward and grabbed the edge of the door just before it closed. He suddenly found himself staring into those familiar brown eyes. He looked at her and she looked back at him.

  There was no doubt in his mind now. It was her. It was really her. Alive and well.

  “Ellie!” he gasped, nearly out of breath. He stepped halfway into the opening. “Ellie, where have you been?”

  Ellie stiffened and stared back at him with the look of a startled deer.

  He took a step forward. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  She recoiled against the people behind her.

  “I thought you were dead.”

  She shrank back further, her eyes wide with fear. “I . . . I don’t . . . know you.”

  The voice was strangely fragile, but it was definitely Ellie’s.

  Blocking the door from closing, Caleb stared into her beautiful eyes. He’d never seen them full of terror like this. “Ellie, what’s the matter? Don’t you recognize me?”

  The crowd behind her was becoming restless. Someone in the back corner muttered “Close the door.”

  A man in an expensive business suit and carrying an important looking brief case stepped forward and tapped Caleb lightly on the shoulder. “Sir, I think you need to step back and leave the young lady alone.”

  “But I’ve been looking for her for a long time. Ellie, it’s me, Caleb.”

  Ellie looked like she was going to pass out. The scene in It’s a Wonderful Life when Mary Hatch fails to recognize George Bailey because he’d never been born filtered through his mind.

  “I don’t . . . know anyone named . . . Caleb.” Ellie shook her head. She stared intently at him and spoke firmly. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!” Ellie’s words pierced his heart.

  Stunned, he took a step back.

  The last thing he saw was the mixture of fear and fierceness in her big brown eyes as she stared back at him.

  Caleb stood frozen in front of the cold, polished steel door of the elevator. Gradually he became aware of the throng behind him. With plenty of suspicious and disparaging looks tossed his way, Caleb hobbled to the nearest bench and sat down.

  He tried making sense of the scene that had just played out. What had happened to her? She seemed so distant. So fragile, so frail, so . . . frightened. Still dazed by the turn of events, he called his father.

  As expected, he was both surprised and upset to learn that his son was back in Atlanta. “Son, I think it was very foolish of you to drive back up there this morning.”

  “I know, Dad. But wait ‘til you hear what just happened!” His father listened with rapt attention as Caleb laid out the details of his latest encounter with Ellie.

  “Son,” he began when Caleb was through, “first of all, I want you to know that I believe everything you’ve told me is true, as incredible as it sounds. I’m convinced the person you saw Wednesday and this morning is really Ellie after all. And all I can say right now is praise the Lord she’s alive.”

  “Amen to that!” Caleb raised his hand in the air. “This changes everything.” He hesitated. “But it also raises a whole slew of issues I’m not sure how to deal with. And questions I don’t have the answers for.”

  “You mean like, if she’s alive, then why the elaborate hoax to convince us she was dead?”

  “Exactly. Whatever his reason is, it can’t be a good one.”

  “I agree one hundred percent, son. Mr. Smith’s behavior leads me to believe that he’s a desperate man. And desperate men are often dangerous men.”

  “Then Ellie might be in danger, too, Dad. She lives with him.”

  “Yes, you told me that. Caleb, when she first saw you in the elevator, did you detect any sign of recognition in her face at all?”

  Caleb carefully replayed the moment of first contact in his mind. “No, Dad, none. It was like I was a complete stranger to her. She was startled at first, and then scared. Scared out of her wits. Like she was going to pass out or something.”

  “You said she seemed to be very fragile. Did you mean physically, mentally, emotionally, what?”

  “I’d say definitely emotionally. Maybe mentally. I can’t be sure. But she seemed to be okay physically. She was walking just fine, and I didn’t notice any scars or anything from the accident. She looked just like she always has. Except for the blank stare and the fear in her eyes. I’ve never seen that before. Do you think she might have been pretending not to know me? Because of her father?”

  “Caleb, anything’s possible at this point. But I don’t think she was pretending. When you surprised her, there would have been a brief moment when she recognized you before fear took over. No, I’m thinking she really doesn’t know who you are.”

  “But why wouldn’t she know who . . . ” Caleb stopped short. “Amnesia? Do you think she’s got amnesia from the accident?”

 
“That’s very possible. In cases of severe trauma, people often have no memory of what caused it. But if she doesn’t recognize you at all, then her memory loss must go back much further than the accident. And if that’s the case, she probably is very fragile emotionally. That would explain a lot of things.”

  “Like why she hasn’t tried to contact me all this time. I’ve asked myself that a hundred times since Wednesday.”

  “Yes, this raises all sorts of questions. But right now we know only two things for sure. Her father has apparently perpetrated an elaborate hoax by faking her death. And Ellie may have amnesia, in which case she’s very fragile and should not be subjected to another strain like the one in the elevator just now.”

  “Are you saying I shouldn’t try to contact her again for the time being?”

  “That would seem prudent, don’t you think? We don’t want to run the risk of doing anything that might cause her more harm. I think you should wait until we’re able to sort out this new information before you attempt any further contact with her. Son, this is a very delicate situation. The best thing for you to do is to drive down here to Baxter, and together we’ll pray about it and seek advice from the proper authorities on how to proceed.”

  Caleb took his father’s advice. “All right, Dad. But do you have any idea how hard it is for me to leave here, knowing she’s somewhere in this very building with me?”

  “I think I do. You know, I’m tempted to drive up there myself right now to help you solve this. But we need to be very careful. We’ve got to have clear, level heads for this one.” He paused. “Will you promise me you won’t try to contact her before you come home?”

  Caleb sighed. “Yes, Dad. I promise.”

  “Good. I’ll see you when you get here, then. Oh, and son, please drive carefully. If you get tired, pull over at a rest stop and call me, will you?”

  Following the conversation with his father, Caleb got up and went looking for a vending machine. His mouth was dry and he needed something to wash away the fuzz. He located a soda machine around the corner from the elevators.

  On his way back across the lobby, he noticed the business directory attached to the wall between two of the elevators. He stopped and studied it as he sipped his soda. One of those businesses must be where Ellie was headed. But which one? There were close to a hundred different listings.

  He tried to recall what she was wearing, but drew a blank.

  He’d been focused on her hair so as not to lose her in the crowd, and on her face in the elevator. But he did remember that she was carrying a large canvas bag over one shoulder. The kind she used to carry on her way to art classes at UGA.

  Maybe she was working as a painter for an art gallery or studio. Or perhaps she was an artist for a design or marketing firm.

  He ran down the alphabetical listing of company names. No art galleries or studios were listed, but three possibilities emerged from the search. A fashion design group. A marketing firm. And a publishing company. Maybe she was a magazine or book illustrator. He was tempted to check them out. After all, what harm would there be in asking the receptionists if they had an Ellie Thompson working for them?

  That wouldn’t be breaking the promise to his father. Technically.

  At least then he could return to Baxter with something more specific than which building she worked in.

  There must be thousands of people employed here. If he could just narrow his search down to one company.

  Caleb, you idiot! Just get in your car and go home like your dad said, for once.

  He headed across the lobby and out the revolving door to his car. A green piece of paper pinned against his windshield by the passenger side wiper blade greeted him. He’d been issued a parking ticket. Grateful that he hadn’t been towed, Caleb climbed behind the wheel of the Camaro. He tossed the ticket into the center console and pulled away from the curb. Following the signs, he headed for the nearest I-85 South ramp. He should be home in about four hours.

  He’d no sooner merged into traffic when he glanced at the fuel gauge. It showed less than a quarter tank. He’d have to stop for gas. And soon.

  Exiting at the next interchange, he spied a gas station a few blocks away. He drove up to the pump and filled his tank. Then he went inside and bought another coffee and a sweet roll. That should hold him until he arrived in Baxter. Caleb was about to drive away from the pump when he spied the white scrap of paper lying on the passenger seat. He picked it up, intending to stuff it in with the parking ticket. Instead, he read it again.

  Elmwood Village Apartments

  4391 W. Cannondale Avenue, Apt. 1C

  Atlanta, GA 30310

  Hmm. Cannondale Avenue was only a few exits ahead. Maybe seven or eight miles to the apartment itself.

  Should he stop there on his way out of Atlanta to see if John Smith was home? He’d promised not to contact Ellie, but he hadn’t promised not to contact her father.

  The man had caused immeasurable pain and suffering for him and his family. Caused a lot of grief for a lot of people. Wasted everyone’s time and money. He’d gone to unbelievable extremes to convince them all that Ellie was dead.

  And for what purpose? What motive did he have for keeping Ellie away from them? What diabolical scheme had he concocted? Was he somehow using Ellie in her fragile state of mind for personal or financial gain? Was he mistreating her? Abusing her even? If so, he needed to know now.

  He had to have answers.

  Answers he could take back to his parents and the authorities.

  Besides, he’d promised to always be there for Ellie.

  This was a chance to redeem himself for not being there after the accident. She needed him now more than ever.

  It was time once again to confront John C. Smith. Caleb entered his destination into the GPS. Once the route came up on the screen, he started the car and headed back onto the highway.

  Fifteen minutes later, Caleb pulled to the curb in nearly the same spot he had occupied a few hours before at dawn’s early light. He shut off the engine and sat behind the wheel. Once again, he tried formulating a plan of attack, but his head was a jumble of unconnected thoughts.

  He’d just have to be direct and come right to the point. He got out of his car, crossed both east and westbound lanes, and walked down the sidewalk until he stood in front of 1C.

  Taking a deep breath to steady his emotions, he approached the residence. He rapped loudly on the steel door with his knuckles, ignoring the small button on the door frame.

  No movement or sound came from within.

  He knocked harder and waited. Still no response.

  The third time he pounded with his fists so hard that a flake of peeling paint separated from the door frame and fluttered to the stoop at his feet.

  Either John Smith was not home or he wasn’t going to answer the door. Caleb fumed.

  Why was this guy so hard to get a hold of? The man couldn’t possibly be avoiding him. How could he know that Caleb was in town, much less that he had his address?

  Caleb peered through the window to the left of the door. Through a gap in the heavy curtains, he could make out a sofa and recliner. He returned to his car, and, after finishing his coffee and pastry, reclined his seat and began the stakeout. He started to doze off again.

  A car door slammed somewhere nearby. Caleb sat upright with a start and looked around. Across the street in front of apartment 1C, a man was unloading some groceries from the rear hatch of what looked like a brand new silver SUV. Caleb stared at him.

  He appeared to be in his mid-forties, and had short, curly brown hair. When the man glanced up at a passing car, Caleb got a good look at his face. He was sporting a diamond stud in each ear.

  Caleb sprang into action. He quickly exited his car and cut across the street. Coming around the front of the parked SUV, he approached the man on the sidewalk. “Mr. Smith,” Caleb called out, “I need to talk to you!”

  Startled, John Smith stopped in his tracks and stared at
him.

  “Who are you?” he demanded gruffly.

  “I’m the person you’ve been trying to avoid. I’m Caleb Sawyer.”

  There was a momentary flash of recognition on the man’s face. Then he deftly brushed it aside.

  He began to walk toward the steps leading to the apartment, but Caleb stepped in front of him.

  “You’ve spoken to me and my father several times on the phone.”

  John Smith stopped and sized him up for a minute. Then he set down his grocery bags on the sidewalk and took a step toward him. His demeanor instantly changed. He broke into a warm smile and extended a hand. “Caleb Sawyer. Of course. Now I remember who you are.”

  Caleb instinctively shook the man’s hand.

  “You caught me off guard there for a moment,” John explained. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you right away.” He looked puzzled. “But how did you find me? And why are you here?”

  There was no suspicion in his voice, just confusion. Either Mr. John C. Smith was a very transparent person, or he was a very good liar. Caleb didn’t buy his act for a second. “I think you know very well why I’m here!”

  He didn’t bother to explain his presence. He didn’t owe the man a thing. It was the other way around.

  John scowled. “It’s about Ellie, isn’t it?” He sighed. “I was afraid this day would come. Somehow I knew it would, eventually. And I’ve been worried sick about what I was going to say to you if we ever met face-to-face,” he said wistfully.

  Ellie’s father shook his head meekly. “Mr. Sawyer, I’m not a very brave man by nature. I’ve been afraid of how you might react to meeting me. And after all I’ve put you and your family through, I don’t blame you one bit for being upset with me. I know I should have told you about her passing as soon as I found out you weren’t from one of those awful foster families she had to put up with. I had hoped that you’d find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  Caleb stared at him in amazement. The man was good. Very good. If he hadn’t come here armed with the truth, he’d probably have been taken in by the man’s stellar performance. It was worthy of an Oscar.

  “Mr. Smith, you’re one of the biggest liars I’ve ever had the misfortune of running into!”