However, he didn’t remember marrying Kelly, or meeting her for the first time. He had no recollection of anyone in her family either. He could sit next to his father-in-law without realizing it.
His brother Andrew, who lived in the San Francisco Bay Area, had told him that their father had died five years ago and their mother had passed away a year later. Frank remembered none of these events; the relentless black hole of amnesia had devoured them. He had also found out that Kathy had been born three and half years ago. Frank was wondering how long it would take him to get used to the idea of being a dad.
Frank had been planning to ask Josephine to bring Kelly and Kathy to the hospital, but had forgotten to do it when he had last spoken to her. He simply felt no urgency to meet his wife and daughter, and why would he? He had to learn to care about them first to be able to miss them.
Or maybe there is another explanation to this apathy towards your family, buddy? You are cheating on your wife, aren’t you? In some circles, it’s a big deal.
Yes, that was true; it looked like he was cheating on Kelly. Frank wanted to ask Marilyn about the details of their romance—how they had met, how often they had sex and where, what plans they were making for the future—but encouraged her to leave, fearing that Josephine would suspect foul play if she caught him chatting with an attractive young woman.
“See you soon, Frank,” Marilyn said before taking off. He nodded silently, with a smile, in response.
But what about Kelly, pal? You are a shameless bastard, Frank Fowler. How can you cheat on a mother of your child? How could you have broken the vows you’ve made to your wife?
Well, what kind of wife was Kelly if she hadn’t bothered to visit him in the hospital even once? He could have died in that car crash, you know. What the hell had she been so busy doing? Getting manicures at a spa?
3.
It turned out to be a smart decision to postpone the walk down memory lane with Marilyn. Josephine showed up two hours after Missis Hancock had left. She had come to tell Frank the terrible news. She hesitated for a while, gathering the courage to pronounce the words that she had probably repeated in her mind many times before entering his room.
“I know you will find out about it sooner or later. So let me be the one who breaks this news to you.” Josephine breathed a silent sigh, looking fixedly in his eyes. “My heart bleeds every time I think about it.” An intense pause. “Kelly’s gone missing, Frank. We don’t know where she is.” Josephine bit her lower lip, fighting tears.
His wife had gone missing. And he was embarrassed to admit that he was unable to feel shocked or sad since she had fallen through the cracks in his memory. No, there was no genuine sadness. He might have to fake it for the time being.
Kelly was missing. As this thought sank in his mind, Frank asked:
“When?”
Did he appear heartless to Josephine? After all, he had not burst out crying while clinging to Josephine’s chest and shouting hysterically, “How? Why? Why!”
“She went missing a week ago. That’s the last time we saw her.” Josephine knitted her brows. “It’s horrible, Frank. Just horrible! We hoped she would come back, but it’s been a whole week already and we still haven’t heard from her. We don’t know what to do.”
She fell silent. As Frank frowned in an attempt to look grim, an involuntary thought rushed through his mind: had Kelly eloped with a neighbor? He hated himself right now for having to fight off the unwanted smile that had started forming on his face.
Kelly eloped with a lover? And took their daughter with her? Kelly’s boyfriend must be madly in love with her, if he had agreed to adopt Kathy.
“What about Kathy?” Frank asked.
Why would Kelly have flushed her vows down the toilet and gone on this ridiculous adventure? Was he bad in bed? Impotent? Too ugly to her? Her relatives seemed to love him, what problem could she possibly have with him?
“Kathy... She—” Josephine’s voice trembled. “She is missing, too. She disappeared last November.”
Frank shut his eyes and peered into his heart to find out how he felt about this news. Kathy had gone missing. She was not with Kelly and her hypothetical lover. His little girl had vanished almost half a year ago.
You should admit, buddy, that this thing is very, very serious. Kathy couldn’t have run away with a neighbor if for no other reason than she was only three years old at the time. Yes, she certainly didn’t elope. And you also have to admit that she is most likely dead. Or you could bury your head in the sand, of course, and convince yourself she is safe and sound somewhere in the Wonderland.
Some psycho had kidnapped Kathy, raped her—you know how many maniac rapists are out there—strangled her, and then tossed the dead body in Lake Erie.
“Are the police looking for them?” he muttered. “What do they think happened to Kathy?”
Josephine bitterly pursed her lips for a few seconds and answered, “They say they are looking for them. What else are they going to say? But there have been no results so far. Kathy’s been missing for six months now. Six months!”
“Do they believe Kathy’s still alive?”
Josephine shrugged her shoulders.
It was certainly a dumb question: if the police had lost all hope of finding Kathy alive, a considerate person like Josephine wouldn’t have dared to tell him the truth. On the other hand, she had informed him of his wife and daughter having gone missing, right?
“Right now we have to be focused on finding Kelly,” said Josephine. “It’s been nine days, and we’ve got no idea of what could have happened to her.” Josephine covered her eyes with her palms and uttered a sob.
Kathy was kidnapped by a pervert, Kelly ran away with a lover, and the question is: why are you, Frank Fowler, so quiet and imperturbable? Actually, for all you know, your wife might have fallen victim to the same maniac rapist that throttled your daughter. Kelly eloping with a neighbor must be the most implausible explanation of her disappearance there is, buddy. It shouldn’t be so hard to admit the truth to yourself, should it, pal?
And what was the truth?
Seriously, why was he so tranquil as if nothing had happened? He hadn’t even shed a few tears just for the sake of preserving his good reputation with his Josephine.
What was the truth about Kelly’s vanishing?
He had nothing to do with it, had he?
“This is terrible,” said Frank in a low voice. He cleared his throat. “Do you have any theories about where Kelly could be?”
“We thought you might have one. We’ve been hoping you’ll give us some clues, Frank.” Josephine stared at Frank with pity. Obviously, she assumed she had staggered him with the harsh news about Kelly and Kathy. “It’s so terrible! So terrible!” She shook her head in anguish. “It must be so painful for you to even think about it. Poor Kathy. Poor Kelly. We believe in you, Frank. I’m sure you can help us find her.”
Poor Kathy... Poor Kelly...
They had been hoping he’d give them some clues. Who the hell were ‘they?’
“I’m shocked. I don’t know what to say,” Frank said and shut his eyes. He thanked God for having deprived him of his memories about the last six years of his life.
4.
When she was about to leave, Josephine asked, looking at him tensely, “Do you have any idea what happened to Kelly?”
There was anguish and sincere hope in her eyes, which made Frank feel ashamed that he was unable to help her.
“I’m sorry, Josephine, I remember very little about the time she went missing,” Frank said. “To be honest, I don’t remember anything about it. I have yet to remember Kelly herself. I’m sorry.”
Josephine spent half a minute digesting his words, nodded as if agreeing with something her internal voice had told her, and then said, “We would much appreciate it if you could recall something useful in the next couple of weeks. You were very close to Kelly. You have to know something that can help us find her.” Again the undyi
ng hope flickered in her eyes. “Something only you could have known. Just do your best to remember it, okay?”
Frank kept silent for a while to show Josephine that he was pondering her words and replied, “I’ll try, but I can’t promise you anything right now. It might take me a very long time to recover those memories.” He paused, the feeling of guilt still lingering in his heart. “I will certainly do my best; I can promise you that.”
“What if something terrible happens to her in the meantime? What if it takes you weeks, or even months to get your memory back?”
“Let’s hope everything will be fine. There really isn’t much we can do about it.”
What a heartless cynic you are, pal! Your wife and daughter are missing (or should one say: dead and gone?), and all you do is twiddle your thumbs? Strain your fucking memory, man. Start digging in it and keep digging until you find something useful.
But it had been a week since she vanished. If they had been unable to find her after a week, chances were they would never find her alive. For all he knew, Kelly could be rotting somewhere at the bottom of Lake Erie.
As Josephine rose from the chair, she said in a calm and at the same time resolute voice, “Frank, we have to find Kelly, do you understand that?”
“Yes, I do. We’ll find her.”
“Try to remember as much as possible as soon as possible. She could have told you about her plans for the day she disappeared. We need to find out what she was going to do, where she was going to be, whom she was going to meet that day. Don’t waste your time, please. Think as hard as you can. That information has to be somewhere in your head, Frank.”
“It’s my number one priority now. I want to find her as badly as you do.”
“I’m glad to hear that. This is a matter of life or death, Frank.” She paused. “Life or death. I mean it. We are all counting on you.”
When Josephine was about to open the door and step out into the hallway, she turned her face to Frank and asked, “Did you and Kelly argue?”
Frank felt so excited about seeing Josephine finally go away that he decided to ignore any subtext which might have been hidden in this question. With a solemn air, he answered, “I’m sorry, Josephine. I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything.”
Wow, this looks like a very convenient way to answer the most tricky questions! You remember nothing, and, therefore, they can’t expect a word of substance from you. It’s your personal get out of jail free card, buddy.
“Yes, that’s right,” muttered Josephine.
5.
Frank spent the rest of the day pondering over all the rediscovered details of his life and attempting to remember Kelly and Kathy as well as anything that could help him find his wife. It appeared he had a lot of thinking to do in the coming weeks, or even months.
He had been told he had a wife, and he believed that in his mind there now was a phantom of a memory of his wife’s name sounding similar to ‘Kelly.’ He had no clue when this phantom would turn into a firm recollection. He also thought that he still remembered, though vaguely, having a daughter. He had begun to gradually get used to the idea of being a husband and a dad. Or was it a former husband and a former dad? Chances were he would never see Kelly or Kathy again, let’s be realistic about it.
It was so weird: he had a wife and a daughter whom he actually didn’t have.
By the way, what did Josephine mean when she asked if he and Kelly had argued? What the hell was she getting at?
Had he and Kelly argued? Even if they had, it was none of Josephine’s business! Every couple in the history of mankind had argued, there was nothing special about that.
Frank made a wry face, revolted by Josephine’s arrogance. Did she suspect that he had beaten Kelly with a bat or put out cigarettes on her skin? Or did she believe he had killed his wife?
Was that what she had meant by her question?
Frank heaved a sigh, realizing he was about to get distressed by his own conjectures about Josephine’s hidden agenda. However, these conjectures seemed to be awfully close to the truth: he’d bet dollars to donuts that Missis Buckhaus had been seriously considering the possibility of him being her beloved sister’s killer. As the older sibling, Josephine must see herself as the wise, all-caring protector of the family—the Godmother, if you will.
But your charm and wit will surely help you crush all these insinuations against you, right, buddy?
He hoped so.
Like in a movie. Frank burst out laughing. He had forgotten half of his life just like in a goddamn movie (okay, it was an exaggeration, but still)! Years of memories erased, just like that. He had forgotten his wife’s name; he had forgotten his daughter’s name. Just like in a movie. Or some cheesy soap opera.
So what did he know about Kelly’s plans for the day she disappeared? And now that the question arose: had he argued with Kelly and how often?
He fell asleep close to midnight. He had no idea what a curious surprise was awaiting him in the morning.
6.
Imagine for a moment that Kelly Fowler was indeed murdered and Frank was the killer. Now picture Frank in kabuki makeup. In case you didn’t know: kabuki is classical Japanese dance-drama, whose actors paint their faces completely white, making themselves look as if they have just survived an explosion at a flour factory. Yes, picture a face white as paper: that was the image Michael Bluth must have had in his mind while trying to predict Frank’s reaction to his letter in a sealed envelope, which Frank found on the nightstand next to a disposable plastic vase with a bouquet of pink roses and lilies when he woke up in the morning. The letter had apparently come as an attachment to the flowers.
That’s right, after reading Bluth’s message, Frank would have turned extremely pale with fear had he been the psycho that had murdered Kelly Fowler. However, he was not the killer and the color of his face did not change as he read the letter from Bluth.
Michael Bluth wrote:
“Dear Frank, I know you killed your wife, and I can prove it. You are a reasonable person. I’m sure you don’t want to go to prison. All I need is a $20,000 loan. Please think about my request very carefully.”
Mister Bluth had been polite enough to put his name at the end of his message, and it might have been his real name, too, although Frank wouldn’t have bet the farm on it. The letter was typed: the author either had poor handwriting or wanted to leave no evidence behind. Frank read Bluth’s note three more times, digesting its meaning and enjoying its absurdity, and then laughed quietly.
‘All I need is a $20,000 loan.’ What a smartass.
‘Please think about my request very carefully.’ Was this idiot trying to play it safe? Why hadn’t he just said point-blank that he would go to the police if Frank didn’t pay him? Was he afraid that he could end up in jail for extortion or something?
What are you going to do about this letter, buddy?
Well, it depended on whether he believed these charges were true.
Do you believe they are true?
Did he think he had murdered his wife? Hell no! He shouldn’t even dignify such a preposterous question with an answer.
Excellent response, buddy! Now rip this letter into a hundred pieces and flush them down the toilet.
Yes, that was exactly what he ought to do. And he wasn’t doing it to keep Bluth’s ridiculous accusations under wraps; he didn’t care if anyone else read the letter. He was doing it to show his contempt for this lying son of a bitch.
Besides, he already had too much on his plate to bother with delusions of someone he didn’t know. And it was not an established fact yet that his wife was dead, okay?
Did he believe that Kelly was dead? Well, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was. He hadn’t really dwelled on this issue since it was hard to be emotionally invested in a woman he barely knew.
By the way, it was a very smart move to ask Marilyn to keep from visiting you in the hospital again in order to avoid any rumors.
“Her sister is here
almost every day,” he told Marilyn last night. “I don’t want her to see you.”
It would certainly be a disaster if he was exposed as a cheating husband, taking into account that his wife had gone missing. He would hate to have his reputation compromised: a tarnished reputation could land you behind bars or on the death row when your spouse mysteriously vanished. And there were also Josephine and her clan. As a matter of fact, Frank was unsure who he feared the most: his sister-in-law or the cops.
Chapter 6.
GEORGE
1.
“It’s vengeance,” said Albert, waiting for George to drift off and fall into his arms.
He had uttered those words at a quarter past one in the afternoon, eighteen and a half months before Kelly Fowler went missing.
Two hours earlier, George Frey had said he had to take a leak and headed to the bathroom. Josephine watched him leave the living room and, once his steps could no longer be heard, turned to Kelly, who was playing with the key to the Ford Expedition she had rented last night for this trip.
“Is your husband pissed off yet?” Josephine asked with a grin. “I bet George was driving him nuts.”
Kelly began to chuckle, put the car key in her jeans pocket, and said, “I haven’t heard any complaints from Frank, but I think the old man was getting on his nerves. The old fucker just doesn’t know how to shut up.”
“Frank is probably too polite to bitch about his in-laws.” Josephine cast an inquiring look at the doorway. “Is he taking a shit?” she wondered aloud. “What’s holding him up? I hope he doesn’t stink up my bathroom.”
“It must be his giant prostate.”
“Have you decided what you want to do about your daughter? Little children are such a pain in the ass.”
“I’m seriously thinking about your suggestion, Josephine. It’s very tempting.”
“As I said, we’ll help you every step of the way. You won’t even have to lift a finger. I know it will take some time, but eventually you’ll see how much happier your life will be without this burden.”
Kizer, Tim Page 7