by W.H. Harrod
Terrance decided to go for it, to make a getaway with all the cash. He still found it hard to believe—him doing something like this. This scenario never appeared on the radar screen as something a person with his elevated notions of ethics and morality might consider, much less do. No use lying to yourself, he admitted. You’re a liar and a cheat. You’re going to steal something that belongs to someone else. Please don’t start crying about it being a matter of life and death—which may be true. You’re terrified of what the cartel will do to you, and you’re acting just like a rat trying to get off a sinking ship. You’ll do anything to save your own skin, including deserting your friends and love ones. His opinion of himself lessened, by degrees, in this short time span.
Terrance allowed this new inventory of his character to sink in as he drove towards Omaha, Nebraska, where he anticipated finding a large airport. He had expected more of himself and thought of himself as basically a good person, not the type to do something like this. Accepting himself as a petty villain required some time. Then another thought hit him. Would I be like this if I become a lawyer? To think about the underhanded opportunities available to a person with a law degree frightened him.
“But what’s the alternative?” said Terrance aloud. “Turn around and go back and fight them? Go to the police for help? What could they do? Nothing! The cartel will kill me if I stay. No one else can help me. It’s totally up to me. If I want to stay alive and have something akin to a normal life with opportunities, this is my only chance. If the professor won one of these big payoffs, he can figure out how to win another.”
Terrance knew the argument for his soul had ended. He somehow needed to make peace with this new version of Terrance Butler, and understand that the person and the name Terrance C. Butler belonged to the past, along with his unrealistic notions of honor, decency, and justice. He sensed the creeping tentacles of despair and loneliness crawling upon his person following this revelation. Perhaps this same feeling had visited itself upon Howard Douglas as he, too, fled through the darkness so many years ago, away forever from everything he once held dear. At that moment, he knew how Howard Douglas must have felt, and he would never wish the blackness of this moment upon another human being.
Off in the distance appeared the glow of a large metro area. His new life would begin there. He still needed to stop and get directions to the airport. Then he’d drive to the airport, park his loyal Cherokee in the long term parking area, head to the terminal, and buy a ticket to a big city in the south by the ocean, maybe Miami. The use of his debit card and real identification, for the last time, provided him with sufficient funds to secure passage. When to cash in the Pick Six ticket with a new identity had to be decided later.
Matters of the heart, on the other hand, made leaving difficult. He cared deeply for his adoptive parents, as well as Jess, the professor, and a few more close friends. This part made leaving a lot more difficult.
Another well-lit travel plaza appeared up ahead. It looked to be a safe place to get directions and collect the few things from the Cherokee he intended to take along with him into his new life.
Terrance parked right under the brightest parking lot light in the huge travel plaza for safety and then went inside to ask directions. He learned that from where he stood at the moment, the airport was less than twenty minutes away. Searching the car for items to take along with him began with the glove box where he found nothing of interest. From the back of the vehicle he retrieved his college windbreaker. Then checking the sun visor compartment as the last possible place capable of containing anything of value, he discovered a three by five color photograph of himself, Jess, and Harvey. Staring at the photograph caused him to recall Howard Douglas’s desperate flight from Harmony many years earlier. Only a cell phone was left, and he couldn’t make up his mind on that. He expected to have to secure a new cell phone, but what about carrying this one in case of an emergency? It would be easy enough to get rid of later, he reasoned, so why not? He vowed not to turn it on unless he absolutely had to.
It occurred to him that he hadn’t checked his messages in the last few days. Again, what difference did it make who left him a message since he didn’t intend to return the calls anyway? But, what harm would it do to check them?
A moment later, he heard the familiar greeting: “You have five unanswered messages in your mail box.” They came at him rapid fire. Jess left the first message on Thursday. She wanted to know how things were while also checking on the prospects of getting together sometime soon. The second message came from the professor early Friday morning as he tried to get Terrance out of bed. His boss at the paper left the third message asking for an update on the story. Next, he heard the click of a phone hanging up. This scared him. Maybe the cartel had his cell number? The last message, however, knocked his socks off. This message came from his lawyer lady friend, Ms. Arête Xenos, Attorney at Law.
Arête, born of Greek parents, immigrated to this country at three years of age. Smart, very capable, in her early thirties, she didn’t waste words. It didn’t hurt her case either that she looked movie star gorgeous. She once told him her father named her after the daughter of a long dead Greek philosopher who boasted, “Experiencing pleasure is the ultimate good. Therefore, everything else, including virtue and philosophy, must be judged according to its capacity to bring us pleasure.” He recalled giggling nervously in response to this interesting insight into her basic attitude towards life.
More than once, he had considered taking her up on her polite offers to get together for drinks and talk about his future. He really never understood it. Although aware of his good looks, he still didn’t understand why a beautiful, sexy, and successful woman like this had an interest in him? Half the men on this part of the continent jumped when she snapped her fingers.
He played this particular message again unsure he heard everything correctly the first time. The recording said the same thing the second time: “Terrance, this is Arête. It’s now late Friday afternoon. I need to talk with you about an exciting opportunity as soon as possible. The gist of it is: I’ve been offered a position in Atlanta with a prestigious legal firm. I’ve accepted the offer and will be moving to Atlanta in two weeks. They have also offered me the opportunity of bringing along with me an assistant or anyone else I want to work on my personal staff. This is something you may be interested in as I remember you telling me how you plan to become an attorney. I know the pay will be decent, and more importantly, they will subsidize whomever I choose as my assistant in their efforts to earn a law degree from one of the better universities in that area.”
“I know this is a lot to unload on you with such short notice, but I thought of you immediately, and I would appreciate the opportunity to talk with you more about this. Please call me tonight or tomorrow. I’ve kept my calendar open Saturday night if you‘re interested. Please let me hear from you.”
Terrance set the phone down in the passenger seat. The word surreal came to mind. Something terribly weird is going on in the world right now. He’d managed to exist for almost twenty-five years without a lot of excitement in his life, and, all of a sudden, life’s circus backs up to his door and starts putting on a show.
He inventoried the events of the past several days. He’d discovered that a prominent local citizen not only was an imposter, but very likely his birth father and, quite possibly, a murderer on the run for twenty years. Next, he learned certain people, very anxious to locate this individual, belonged to an international cartel that had a habit of killing anyone who got in their way. Right now, it so happened, he stood square in the middle of their road.
There, also, existed the possibility that his birth mother committed suicide after giving him up for adoption. Following upon these extraordinary events, he recently came into possession of a horse race ticket worth over three hundred thousand dollars. Finally, a beautiful, successful woman, coming from out of the blue asked him to leave town with her, most likely as her private plaything, and in return,
she will procure for him a salary and subsidize the cost of his acquiring a law degree.
Incredible! He sat back in the Cherokee thinking about this amazing proposition. Although an attractive offer, he didn’t need financial support anymore. He now possessed all the funds he needed. Certainly, she set a standard for attractive and intelligent women, but he never worried about attracting women in the past. So, why give this offer serious consideration?
The answer came to him quickly. It would eliminate the need to become a cheat and a thief. He now had another plausible escape route. He no longer needed to steal the professor’s money to save his life.
So, what’s it going to be? There are probably worse fates than having to regularly express your gratitude to a very beautiful and generous woman for the next three or four years while no longer looking over your shoulder worrying about the cartel twenty-four hours a day.
Then his thoughts drifted to Jess. I can’t drag her into this. No matter what I do, I have to stay away from her. I don’t want her to get hurt because of this. Besides, we’re so different anyway, how long would we last together? We want different things.
He forced himself not to think about Jess. His feelings for her went beyond mere infatuation. But, his life had changed, so it mattered little. They no longer had the luxury of unlimited time to sort out their differences. He had to leave her behind for both of their sakes. Starting the car, he returned to the interstate intent on making his escape. Only this time, the escape route pointed to the south.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO