by Anthony Tata
“Just kidding, babe. We’ll get some rest, and then we’ll go to the house. I’ve got the key. Miss Dwyer gave it to me.”
“Don’t mention that slut’s name, okay? I’m just doing this because I have to. It’s part of the plan, okay? So don’t go native on me and team up with her.”
They walked into the basic room, spied the single king-sized bed and each sat down. Amanda lay all the way back, her feet still touching the floor and her body making an inverted L on the bed. Jake leaned on an elbow and looked at her, sliding up toward her head.
“Don’t do this, Jake. I’ve never been close to my dad, and I don’t know what kind of cruel trick this is, but if I had to drive four hours to get the half million, then so be it.”
“I drove.”
“Whatever.”
“Why are you being a bitch?”
Amanda stared at the ceiling. There was a slight tugging somewhere in the deep recesses of her soul, but she passed it off as the faint pull of fatigue.
“I’m being myself, Jake. You know, for the past fifteen years, as long as I can remember, he’s never been there. He rarely made this trip the other way, you know. He was just never there for me. It’s been my mother and my grandmother. Always. So, I don’t know what we’re going to see a few hours from now in that house, but whatever it is will leave me disappointed, as usual, I’m sure.”
Jake studied her, remaining silent.
“When he was alive, I was better off without him. Why, when he’s dead, should I be better off with his memory? He’s dead. It’s as simple as that. It’s like I’m reading it on the news. If I didn’t care about him when he was alive, why would I care now? I really don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Well, what was that all about back in you-know-who’s office? Was it an act?”
Amanda looked at him and smiled. “Yeah, pretty good, don’t you think? I mean, how else am I going to get the half mil if I don’t convince the gatekeeper?”
Jake felt a chill race up his spine. The smile looked menacing, and he had seen it before . . . on Nina Hastings. At that moment, Amanda Garrett’s facial expressions contorted into a mask, the blood rushing to the back of her head, pulling down on her skin, making her appear years older. He saw the family resemblance between Amanda, her mother, and her grandmother. He suddenly felt as if he were merely another pawn in her game.
“What?” Amanda asked.
“So what am I? Taxi service?” Jake had never been good at holding his thoughts in abeyance. He was more of a here and now kind of person. He didn’t have the patience for the atmospherics.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if Miss Dwyer is the gatekeeper, and you’re just on a mission to get this money, I guess I’m being used, too?”
“Come on, Jake. I love you. We’re in love. I’ve never used you for anything.”
There was an awkward pause. He wanted to believe her, but didn’t know if he should. They had been together for four years, but he had never seen her presented with any major life challenge, until now. He was learning about her, and himself. So, it was best to be supportive and not inject his feelings into this critical time. She was the one who had lost her father, not him. Still, he felt a calling to be more forceful with her, but in a subtle way. He wanted to guide her. Toward what, he wasn’t sure. But the feeling was palpable. He needed to be a steady hand for her as she navigated these waters.
“I know. I love you, too.”
They laid their heads back onto the bed and were asleep in each other’s arms within the minute.
***
Amanda’s mind swirled with confusion, a stormy sea tossing the vessel of her soul against competing swells. Tears of anguish flowed inside her soul. Something stirred within her, something hidden. Eyes peeking from a dark corner, wondering, wanting. Sleep washed over her, but as night spread through her body, a nocturnal entity shifted, perhaps feeling it might be safe to come out.
Those eyes, innocent and frightened, searched for a glimmer of light, a sliver of hope. So many times trying to emerge from hibernation, so many times pushed back, forced into submission. A head lifted in the night, lumbering, listening, checking, and holding still. Like a tamed animal, the eyes turned away from the swirling fury, back toward the inner sanctum where blackness painted over any hope. Where there was no pain.
Inside her tormented soul, distant music began to echo, minute sounds pulsing against the storm. A song, a female voice, a bit bluesy, a bit country—she’d heard it before, a long time ago. The hibernating eyes blinked again in the darkness, brief shutters opening and closing once, as if in acknowledgement of the music that only it could hear. Though competing with the maelstrom that raged in Amanda’s mind, Jessi Alexander’s sweet voice ascended in the private sanctum:
“Every time you smile, I smile with you/Every time you cry, I’m crying too/And if you fall, my arms are open wide/When your night is dark, I’ll light your way/When you’ve lost the spark, don’t be afraid/I’m here for you, just close your eyes/I’m a part of you/You’re a part of me too/Take refuge in me.”
The eyes closed. Her soul snuggled deeply into the darkness where it had been taught to hide. Alexander’s words providing the only hope . . . the only promise.
The only way.
Then, suddenly, the eyes opened, alert and scanning.
Connected.
CHAPTER 25
fRIDAY mORNING
Del Dangurs had downed two Rock Star energy drinks. His mind was racing. The inside information he had received on Colonel Zachary Garrett was priceless.
“Can you say, ‘Pulitzer Prize’?” he said loudly but to himself as he stared through the windshield of his vehicle. He was on top of the world, his ego surging from the possibilities and the prey.
His talents were too great, in his view, to waste on proclaiming that Les Miserables was passé or that Aerosmith Reunited was, like, totally awesome. The story on which he was presently working would blow away the competition. No one would come close. He recalled seeing the Charlotte Observer intranet notice about Colonel Garrett’s death. That was when his genius moment had crystallized. He was at the time finishing a review of Morgan Fairchild’s Mrs. Robinson in The Graduate. Steamy, seductive, and sexy!
The editor had decided to post the email from the Charlotte Observer Afghanistan embed, Mary Ann Singlaub, on the intranet.
Have significant lead on MH-47 crash in Afg. where Colonel Garrett was killed with 15 others. Garrett has Charlotte-Spartanburg connection. Have good source. Story to follow.
His story would center on the grieving daughter. He could care less what Singlaub was going to do.
Dangurs ran a smooth hand across the dash of his excellent automobile, petting it. He hadn’t relished the thought of eating something in this car, but he laid a towel across his lap as he munched on a buffalo chicken wrap from Smoothie Plus in Sanford. He would have to move quickly once he saw them leave.
Drumming his fingers on the dashboard, he cycled through several thoughts in his mind. First, they had been in the house now for over an hour. Were they taking inventory? Dangurs smiled as he thought to himself that he would have missed the two if good old Nina hadn’t given him the heads-up. He would have eventually gotten the message, but it might have been too late by then. Thankfully they had decided to spend the night and not go straight to the house. I’ve got a day job, you know.
He watched two young female Central Carolina Community College students walk past his car. They were carrying books in their arms and chatting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. One was dark-haired, and the other had what appeared to be naturally red hair. The redhead had on Daisy Duke shorts and a tube top. The other, he could see now, had an Asian look. She was wearing a bikini top and running shorts.
Dangurs licked his lips. He watched them through his windshield as they walked into the Smoothie Plus. The Asian girl held the door for the redhead, who wiggled through the gap. She then turned her head and
stared directly at him. Her almond eyes locked onto his. He was an attractive man, he knew, so he understood.
She smiled at him and held the gaze as if to invite him. There was a slight turn of her head toward the inside of the restaurant. At that moment, he considered abandoning his assignment.
Instead, he turned his head to his left, beckoning her toward him. She smiled, held up one finger and disappeared inside for a moment. She re-emerged, and he pushed the down button on his automatic window.
“Nice wheels,” she said with a smile.
“Nice smile.” He stuck out his hand and gave his name. “Del.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Julie Nguyen. Are you going to be around later?”
“I might be. You got a cell number?”
Of course she did. She wrote it on a napkin for him and carefully placed it in his palm. “Call me. Let’s hook up.”
“You got it.” Dangurs pulled a digital camera from the front seat and said, “Give me that world-class smile again.”
She grinned, and he clicked a photo.
Turning, she walked slowly into the store, offering him a protracted view of the olive skin of her naked back. As she disappeared into Smoothie Plus, he checked the photo in the display and grinned. Spring is in the air! This was turning out to be a good trip after all.
Too many distractions, he determined. He needed to move to remain focused on his mission. Then he could enjoy the spoils. So he repositioned his car to a Texaco food mart farther down the road. The new location was just across from the only entrance into Tobacco Road subdivision.
As he waited in the Texaco parking lot, he powered up his Dell Notebook. He began writing the story right there in his front seat, funneling brilliant thoughts onto the screen. Sometimes when he was driving, he would rotate the screen to the vertical position and use the handwriting software and touch pen to scribble digital notes. So many genius moments occurred to him alone on the highway. The cigarette lighter charger was an absolute must for him.
He completed entering his thoughts into the computer and then finished the sandwich. Dangurs tossed the wrapper into a trash can and put his auto in gear. He eased slowly out of the parking lot and crossed the street toward the Tobacco Road neighborhood.
As he made the turn into the subdivision, passing between the rock walls, a dark van closed on his rear end. Paranoid for no reason, he kept telling himself, he made the first turn he could, which was a left.
He watched the van in the rearview mirror as it continued along the primary route.
He remained parked for a few minutes, acting as if he was playing with a radio dial. The Beatles’ “Yesterday” was playing on one station. Because he enjoyed the song, he decided to leave that station tuned.
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away . . .
That’s right, he thought. Today, they seem even further away. This story is my big break. He grinned.
And the young girls would flock to him like bees to honey. Just like Julie Nguyen.
CHAPTER 26
Sanford, North Carolina
Jake, for his part, wasn’t sure what to think. Amanda’s moods—no, her personalities—were swinging between some pretty wide margins. He pulled the key out of the bag and opened his door, thinking that he truly loved Amanda and wanted her to sort through all of this. He wasn’t planning on being a psych major, but could plainly see that she was about as conflicted as a person could possibly be. Football and baseball were his things, but he was a leader, and he knew that she needed him to be steady for her right now. Oscillating between intense feelings of love for her father and stone-cold hatred, Amanda could explode, depending on what they found in the house.
He lightly let her down from the truck’s passenger side, led her to the breezeway, and inserted the key. “Okay, we’re in.”
He opened the door that led directly into the breakfast nook.
“I always hated that wallpaper. Look how ugly that is.”
Jake remained silent as he looked through the nook windows into the expansive backyard that was covered with the same crawling-style grass, though the blades looked thicker. The dogwoods were in full flowering brilliance, and the azaleas were losing their pink flowers, the tail end of their bloom. He turned his attention to the wallpaper. Nothing unusual, he thought.
“Must have had a woman pick it out.”
“Probably when he was cheating on my mom.”
“C’mon, Amanda, lighten up a bit, will you. This hatred, it’s like a poison just eating you up. Let it go.”
“Sure thing, buddy.”
Jake noticed that the kitchen was clean, as if her father had someone come in to neaten it every month or so while he was away.
“What are we supposed to find? Is this like a treasure hunt?”
“I’m not sure, but if you keep being a smart ass you’re going to be looking for it by yourself.” Jake leaned against the taupe kitchen counter with the sink window behind him.
“What?”
“You’re being a bitch. Lighten up. Last time I’m going to ask you.”
She walked over to him and leaned against him playfully. “C’mon, you lighten up. We’re here.” She threw her hands up in the air. “At least we made it here, so let’s go do whatever it is we’re supposed to do.”
Jake paused a moment. Still leaning against the kitchen sink, he said, “Listen, I am here supporting you in this. I have no selfish motive here and have actually put myself at risk to bring you up here. So, if you can’t do it for your father, then do it for me.”
That was leadership, right there. Get her in the right frame of mind to at least begin the process. Open her mind just a bit.
She softly bounced her forehead on his chest, grabbing his large biceps with each of her hands, pushing against him. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Why don’t we just walk around the house and see what’s here.”
“Good idea.”
She led him by the hand through the kitchen, and they made a right into a hardwood hallway.
“And this is the lavatory,” she said somewhat theatrically, as if she was showing him the home for his purchase. “Notice the beautiful oak hardwood floors.” She swept her hand across what really was well-appointed flooring. “And to the right,” she declared before reaching the next room, “will be the den.”
They turned into the den, which was carpeted, and stopped.
Two burgundy sofas were situated on the left of the room, spaced apart by cherry end tables. Four floor-to-ceiling windows punctuated the two walls. A wood-burning fireplace with oak mantle was centered on the wall directly in front of them. To the right was a plasma television framed by bookshelves. The room looked absolutely normal.
“Well, this isn’t so bad,” Jake commented.
Amanda was silent, just staring at the fireplace.
Jake gave her a moment, trying to figure out what had transfixed her.
“I used to read to him right there,” she said, pointing at a small child’s wicker chair next to the fireplace.
“You mean that he would read to you, right?”
She shook her head quickly. “It was our thing. He would read to me in bed, or tell me stories, is more like it. He told the greatest stories.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “But I would read to him down here. He’d just lie there on the floor tossing a baseball, maybe pushing the fire around, and I would read.”
Jake was trying to figure out his role once she got into the rhythm. What was he supposed to do? Step back and let her immerse herself in her memories, or should he direct her to something, like a counselor. Miss Dwyer should be here, but she wasn’t, and there must be a reason for that, he figured.
As he watched Amanda kneel down and touch the rocker with her hand, a shiver went up his spine. This was like returning to the scene of a crime, he thought to himself.
***
Amanda reached her hand out, picturing herself rocking and giggling, her father lying on his back with that silly baseb
all. She would playfully kick him in the ribs when he was trying to catch the ball. He was too quick for her, and he would grab her small leg, stopping her from rocking.
She stroked the wicker seat knowing that she was the last person to ever sit in that chair. “Maybe he wants me to have this,” she whispered. “Maybe that’s all this is about.”
“We’ve got room in the truck.”
She slowly put her hand to her mouth and started to weep. What a beautiful memory, she thought to herself. Where has it been? Why haven’t I thought about this until now? Like a white dove released from the magician’s hands, the memory darted from a black trap door in the back of her mind.
“He should be right there,” she said through wet eyes, pointing at the place where her father would lie on his back. “Why can’t he be right there?” She collapsed onto the chair, convulsing, crying hard.
Jake was upon her in an instant, holding her. This was his mission, he realized. Nobody but him could hold her and make her feel protected.
“C’mon, Amanda, we’ll get the chair and go.”
“No! We’re staying until I’m done.” She stood, clumsily pushing against him, but holding onto him at the same time.
She turned toward the bookshelves and stared at the plasma-screen television.
“What’s this?” Her tears had stopped for the moment, but there was no guarantee that would last. She pulled a taped message from the bottom of the television. It was her father’s handwriting, but it seemed dated. She lifted the note, the Scotch tape resisting her pull. Holding it up so they both could read it, she read the words aloud: “Amanda, watch this last. Love, Dad.”
The hand came to the mouth again. Tears came pooling up again. Jake took the note from her hand and hugged her.
“Let’s go, babe, this is too hard.”
She pushed away. “I said we’re staying.”
She regained her composure and placed the note on one of the bookshelves. Interspersed amongst the different shelves were pictures of Amanda and her father and a few of Zachary and his family.