Book Read Free

Messages from Henry

Page 3

by Rebecca Scarberry


  “It might be a waste of my time, but I plan to do that this afternoon.”

  The sun is beating down on my head and my legs are cramping as I make my way down the dirt road, leading to the main highway. As I pass each farm, I’m cranking my neck, looking for any sign of Henry and Cecilia. It’s when I’m looking over a short hedge, into the back forty of the Wickard farm, that I see four-year old Doug Wickard. He’s sitting on the ground next to a large rabbit cage. I see two white birds pacing inside. My heart skips a beat and I ask myself, can that be Henry and Cecilia? Tripping over several in-ground lawn sprinklers, I make my way to the front gate. With my pulse racing, I’m moving as fast as I can towards little Dougy. He now hears my quickened footsteps and has his back against the cage, attempting to hide the birds with his tiny frame. I can see one of the birds frantically pecking at his small fingers, poking through the cage. Now within earshot, I ask, “Dougy, what do you have there?”

  He’s brushing a few long strands of his nearly white hair out of his eyes. His face is very red and he stammers, “Hello….. hello, Mrs. Wade, what are you doin’ here?”

  I ignore his question as I bend down to get a close look at the birds. I’m both relieved and concerned when I see they are none other than Henry and Cecilia. I see his slightly twisted left foot and the color variance of her eyes. She has one dark golden eye and one light yellow eye. My concern is due to my fear Dougy has stolen the birds.

  I stand to stare into his eyes. Before speaking, I take a deep breath and swallow twice. “Where did you get these birds, Dougy?”

  “I got them for my birthday, two days ago.”

  “Who gave you the birds?”

  We hear a door slamming and look towards the back of Dougy’s house. Mrs. Wickard is walking towards us with a big smile on her face. “Hi, Tammy, is Dougy showing you one of his favorite birthday presents he received from his best friend, Jake?”

  “Hello, Charlotte.” I take her outreached hand, as I guide her a safe distance from Dougy. In a hushed tone, I say, “I’d like to speak to you alone.”

  “Is something wrong, Tammy?”

  We are now a safe distance from Dougy. “Charlotte, those birds are Evelyn’s.” Her face freezes in disbelief.

  Struggling to regain her voice, she fidgets with her apron strings. “I find it so hard to believe Jake stole the birds and gave them to Dougy for his birthday. I know his folks are struggling to make ends meet. When I called Jake’s mother to invite her son, I told her gifts weren’t necessary. I never saw Jake actually give Dougy the birds. It was after all the children went home that Dougy took me to see them.”

  “I don’t know who Jake is. Can you check with his mother and get to the bottom of all this?”

  “Yes, I will, Tammy. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve spoken to her.”

  “Charlotte, I’m going home to get my cat carrier and when I return, I’ll be taking Henry and Cecilia back to Evelyn’s.”

  “Okay, Tammy I believe you when you say you recognize the birds. You’ve spent a lot of time helping Evelyn with them after Des passed away.”

  “I’m positive, Charlotte. The metal registration bands they’re wearing will prove it when compared to Evelyn’s records.

  *

  With the birds now in my Jeep, I’m sitting behind the steering wheel, anxious to call Warren. Deputy, Lily Van Horn answers and informs me Warren is out on a call. I give her the good news regarding Henry and Cecilia and head for Evelyn’s.

  I place the carrier on the grass, next to the loft, and with the carrier door open; Henry wastes no time. He takes off eastward, while Cecilia remains motionless as she stares up at the dark, heavy clouds, that seem to swallow Henry. She steps out of the carrier, looking up at me with sadness in her eyes. I cuddle her in my arms and she coos.

  At four o’clock in the afternoon, I’m relaxing in my recliner, reading the newspaper, when my phone rings.

  “Hi, Tammy, Charlotte here.”

  “Oh, hello, Charlotte.”

  “I have spoken to Jake’s mother and she says Jake told her he doesn’t know anything about the pigeons. I don’t believe Jake would lie. As you know, his father is a pastor and very strict. As a friend, I’m asking you not to mention a word of this to the authorities. The birds are back where they belong and Tom and I will be reprimanding Dougy.”

  “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I’ve already told Warren where I found the birds.” Without another word, I hear a dial tone.

  *

  While I’m making coffee the next morning, I hear a strange noise. It sounds like someone or something scratching at my front door. I cross my fingers it’s Henry. I pull the drapes to the side of the window, but I don’t see anything. Only when I step outside the door do I spot Henry. He’s trying to stand on top of the exterior window sill, but he keeps sliding off. When he sees me, he quickly hops up onto the bannister and looks at me, turning his head from side to side. “I’m so happy to see you, Henry. I see you have another note from Evelyn.”

  I rush into the house, slip plastic gloves on and hurry back outside. Again, as though Henry has been trained, he stretches his leg towards me and I gently remove the note. “Grants Pass Downs? Today is opening day. That place will be packed with people, anxious to win big on their favorite horse.” I grab the carrier from the corner of the porch and place Henry inside.

  Warren answers on the first ring. “Warren, got a note. Grants Pass Downs.”

  “Any specifics?”

  “No, but there aren’t that many buildings.”

  “Okay, hang tight and I’ll be in touch. Hobbs can pick Henry up later.”

  As I’m moving the carrier over to my table, preparing to latch the cage door, Henry puts his shoulder against it. The door flings open, he jumps out and flies south. There’s no reason to call for his return. He’s on a mission. I slump down in a chair, at the table, and sigh. Cinnamon rubs against my legs, purring. “Well, Cinnamon it’ll be interesting to see who gets to the race track first, Warren or Henry. With all the traffic on opening day, my bet is on Henry.”

  CHAPTER 8

  As I’m finishing the last bite of my sandwich, my phone rings. I grab it before the third ring. “Tammy, drop what you’re doing and come to the VIP building, here at the track. We have a situation on our hands.” Without replying, I hang up the phone, grab my keys and handbag, and head for my Jeep.

  I pay the five dollars to park and push my way through the noisy crowd. But when I get within fifty feet of the VIP enclosure, I hear shots ring out over the cheering crowd as the horses race around the track. I wonder if it’s just the starter pistol---but no, starter pistols only shoot once. Plumes of dust rise high into the air. I count three more shots to myself.

  The crowd freezes, looking towards the sound of the shots. At the top of the stairs leading into the VIP enclosure, are two police officers with guns raised. One is shouting into his shoulder radio for backup. I also hear a police officer yelling something from the back of the building.

  Suddenly Warren is shouting in my ear, “This way, Tammy!” He takes my hand and I can barely keep up with him. Security guards order everybody to leave immediately. The crowd starts to panic. They’re pushing one another, as they make their way out of the park. “Back away! Police coming through!” Warren barks.

  When we get behind the VIP building, I see Henry swaying back and forth on a telephone wire. There are six patrol vehicles parked in a semicircle with an officer behind each one. They have their guns raised and all pointing towards someone standing against the building. “Warren, have you found Evelyn here yet?” I gasp.

  “That man against the building is her kidnapper. His name is Hilton Hamann. He went to the same day care as Scott. He says we’ll never find her unless we provide a helicopter and half a million dollars. He says he also wants us to hand over Henry. He promises to tie Evelyn’s latest note to Henry’s leg. Once the helicopter is out of gunfire range, he’ll set the bird free, with Evelyn’s late
st note attached."

  “So, he doesn’t know that Henry is right up there on the wire. He must think he returned to Evelyn’s and all we have to do is bring him to the track.”

  “From the things he said, he actually does know that’s Henry on the wire. In fact, he said he’ll shoot him if we aren’t quick about getting him a helicopter. I wanted you here to see if you can coax Henry down from the wire.

  “I still don’t get it. If Henry doesn’t come down by the time a helicopter arrives or brings a note from Evelyn, what’s going to happen?”

  Warren searches for something in his back pocket. He takes out Evelyn’s tiny notebook with the little pencil tied to it. There are only a couple of sheets of paper left. I cover my mouth with both hands as Warren explains,“When I arrived, one of the officers gave this to Investigator Hobbs. Evidently there was a high speed chase.” He turns towards a tan sedan, which has run head-on into a light post about four-hundred feet away. “Once he crashed the car, he got out of the sedan, firing at the patrol cars in pursuit and then tossed the notebook on the ground. He’s been trapped against the back wall of the VIP building ever since. To answer your other question about the helicopter, once he gets a helicopter and the money, he won’t care about attaching a note to Henry.”

  “What do the officials plan on doing?”

  “They have called for their top negotiator. He should arrive any minute. It’s a shame you can’t get Henry to come to you. We could fasten Evelyn’s little notebook to his leg and hopefully Evelyn would be able to tell us where she is now.”

  “What has me puzzled is why Henry isn’t going to Evelyn. How long has he been up there on that wire?”

  “He was there when I arrived, two hours ago.”

  “I have a feeling Evelyn is around here someplace.”

  “If you’re right, once we start searching and get close to her; the suspect will start firing. Negotiators always try to get a situation of this kind resolved peacefully in the beginning.”

  “I wonder if I were to get right beneath Henry and allow him to see Evelyn’s notebook, if he would understand and come to me. I know it sounds preposterous, but I can’t think straight imagining Henry being shot right before my eyes.”

  “I’ll be right back. Let me find out what the Chief thinks about your idea. Maybe they can sneak you over there and keep you hidden.”

  Warren makes his way to the Chief. He’s talking fast, his face is red, and he’s continually raising his arms into the air. The Chief says very little. All sorts of things are going through my head. None of them involves Henry ending up as Evelyn’s hero. As I’m scolding myself for thinking negatively, I see Warren shaking the Chief’s hand.

  He signals for me to come to him. “Okay, the Chief said he wants to test your idea, but he’s only giving you five minutes.”

  “What kind of protection can they give me while I try to coax Henry to come to me?”

  As he guides me towards the patrol cars, he says, “You’ll be taken over to Henry in a patrol car. Once the other patrol cars are in place, hiding you, you can get out and stand below Henry.”

  In the backseat of one of the patrol cars, Evelyn’s notebook in hand, I feel my legs weaken. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, Henry flies down and lands at my feet. I speak to him in a hushed tone, “Stay calm, Henry. I’m going to tie this to your leg.” I show him the notebook and I swear it looks as though he’s smiling. With the notebook fastened to his left leg, he flies towards a group of tractors about 700 feet away. The police Chief and all of the police officers watch him disappear.

  I jump back into the patrol car and look towards the tractors. The officer in the front seat drives to take me out of danger. Henry is nowhere in sight. Suddenly the kidnapper starts firing his gun in the direction Henry landed. Over the officer’s radio, someone says Steve Wooten, the negotiator is in contact with the suspect. I can hear him over a megaphone. “Put down your weapon or we will be forced to return fire!” This is followed by more gunfire, aimed towards Henry and the authorities. My mouth is dry, as I duck my head and begin to pray for Henry’s safety.

  The next thing I hear, as I’m still covering my head, is the police officers returning fire. It seems never ending. A man’s voice comes over the police radio, “The suspect has been disarmed and is no longer a threat.” I think that maybe one of the officers was able to get close enough to the suspect to disarm him. As the patrol car comes closer to the VIP building, I see this isn’t the case at all. An officer kicks the suspect’s weapon away from his limp body, lying on the ground. I’m trying to get a look at the suspect’s face, but he has no face. I suddenly begin to tremble and feel as though I’m going to throw up.

  I soon hear someone speaking over the police officer’s radio, “We have located the victim. Call for an ambulance.” My heart is racing and my hands begin to shake. “Officer, please I’m begging you, please take me to Evelyn.”

  The vehicle comes to a standstill, next to the tractors; I jump out and rush towards a group of officers looking down. I cannot yet see Evelyn. I push two of the officers aside to see only Evelyn’s head and neck; she’s buried in red dirt. Henry is behind her head. He’s pacing back and forth and his eyes are dilated. Evelyn is conscious, but her head is drooping forward, her eyes are closed, and she continually licks dirt from her lips. I hear an ambulance siren.

  “Evelyn, it’s me, Tammy. You’re going to be okay.” Warren is walking towards me, holding a cardboard box. He places the bird inside. As he’s closing the flaps, Henry lets out an ear piercing screech.

  In a raspy voice, with eyes still closed, Evelyn says, “I’m okay, Henry.”

  I can see Henry’s body relax, as he sits down in the box. He’s exhausted from balancing on the telephone wire and all the trips he made, trying to save Evelyn.

  It’s as though all the tension and worry over the whole ordeal hit me all at once. I fall to my knees, facing Evelyn. I brush the sand from her face and begin to cry. I never realized until this moment, how much I love this dear soul. I see images of her nightmare: her looking out the back window of the Honda in Riverside Park, her stuck inside a boxcar with a lunatic, her cold and hungry in the animal sanctuary, her being dragged through the forest and worst of all her possibly witnessing her son’s death.

  *

  Once Evelyn heals in the hospital from malnutrition and dehydration, a memorial service was held for her son, Scott.

  Sitting in the front row of the church, I see a table with two framed pictures of him next to a large array of flower arrangements. One of the pictures is of Scott when he was ten and one exactly like he has in all of his hardcover books, where he looks distinguished in a dark suit and his thick curly brown hair shinning. As I stare at the childhood photograph, I fight back tears.

  When Evelyn speaks before her friends and family, she tells us Scott was a hero in spite of his foolish attempt to save her without the help of the authorities. She also tells us how she tried to tell him to leave and let the police handle the situation. She ends by saying, “My son loved me and he tried his best to save me.” Just as she finishes this sentence, Henry comes out of nowhere and lands on the podium. He looks up at her as if to ask, what about me? I’m your hero. Gasps can be heard throughout the church.

  Evelyn takes Henry in her hands, points him toward us and says, “Henry is a true hero and he deserves an applause.” We all clap for Henry and he’s bobbing his head up and down, as if he’s thanking us.

  The End

 


‹ Prev