The Hook

by Tim O'Mara

  ‘That concludes the indoor part of our service,’ he said. ‘Anyone wishing to join us at the lake for a ceremonial feeding of the fish are welcome. Afterwards, we will gather in the main dining room for some light snacks and beverages. Until exactly three-fifteen.’ More chuckles. If he ever left this place, I thought, Eddie Price had a career in the cruise ship business. ‘Thank you all again for coming.’

  Lisa was the last person to toss a ball of dough containing her husband’s ashes into the lake. She explained that a Chinese friend of hers had introduced her to the ancient tradition. One after another, the balls were eaten by the fish, ensuring a part of Maurice Joseph’s legacy for years to come. I couldn’t help thinking that when the time came and I was no longer breathing, I had given my sister Rachel explicit instructions to spread my ashes around the infield at Yankee Stadium. I was sure her NYPD husband, her Chief of Detectives uncle, and a decent lawyer could get her off with a temporary insanity plea.

  On the way back to the house, Lisa said to me, ‘I saw you noticing the archery setup in the back.’

  ‘You saw me noticing that, huh?’

  ‘It’s a therapeutic tool, Raymond. It takes a great deal of concentration and focus to be able to hit the target.’ She paused as I guessed she realized someone must have used that kind of focus on her husband; someone who considered Maurice more of a target than a real live human being with people who loved him. ‘It’s a very mindful experience, shooting an arrow. You need to not only control your breathing and your body, you need to be able to … your whole world becomes the bow, the arrow, and the target.’

  I’d only known Lisa as MoJo’s wife, but I was starting to see what made her such a great counselor. The ability to shut out what had happened last week to her husband – and how it had happened – was admirable. I’m not sure I could do that if anything of the sort ever happened to Allison or Rachel. What I knew of myself was I’d want revenge, to hurt someone. Lisa didn’t have that bone. Maybe that was another boy thing.

  ‘I’m going to stay out here, guys,’ Lisa said to Edgar and me. She looked over at a wooden chair that had a great view of the southern part of the Catskill Mountains. ‘I’ll grab a seat. Can you get me a seltzer or club soda?’ For the umpteenth time that day, she touched her stomach. ‘Something with bubbles.’

  Edgar said, ‘Absolutely,’ and we went back inside the mansion. After asking directions, we found the main dining room and the beverage table. Eddie Price was standing there speaking with a light-skinned black man in light green overalls and a blue work shirt. They were both drinking something clear out of plastic cups.

  ‘I distinctly remember telling the maintenance staff,’ Eddie Price was explaining, ‘to remove the targets before the service. If Lisa has seen them …’

  ‘She has,’ I said, interrupting. ‘It’s OK. She actually explained to me how they were used in the therapy here. Everything here reminds her of Maurice, Mr Price. You can’t avoid that. She’s very grateful for the service.’

  Eddie Price considered that as I poured some club soda into plastic cups for Lisa, Edgar and myself. I handed two to Edgar and motioned with my head for him to take them outside. I turned back to Price.

  ‘That may be all well and good, Raymond,’ Price said. ‘But when I give an instruction, I expect it to be followed.’

  The man in the overalls said, ‘I’ll have them removed immediately, Mr Price.’

  ‘No, no, no. That will only bring more attention to them.’ He took a sip of his seltzer as if he wished it were something stronger. ‘Just get back to the garden and … I don’t know … be more attentive next time.’

  The man left, leaving me alone with Eddie Price. Not being one for awkward silences, I said, ‘Lisa told me you run a tight ship here.’

  ‘I have to,’ he said. ‘My guys depend on me. Most of them come here with completely disordered lives. That’s how Maurice was when he first showed up. Without the constant structure and vigilance, the program will not work.’

  ‘I get it. I wish I could get more consistency from the teachers I work with. Most of them are not on the same page. Some are reading completely different books.’

  Price smiled. ‘That’s the problem with public education. Structure starts at the top and – with all due respect – your union does not allow for some measures that need to be taken to develop that structure.’

  I was sure he was right. ‘I’m sure you’re right. What’s your success rate here?’

  ‘Define “success,”’ he said.

  I had to think on that. ‘What’re your recidivism numbers? How many clients return after leaving?’

  ‘Zero.’ He must have read the amazed look on my face. ‘We don’t accept returnees, Raymond. When you enter Newer Leaves, you commit to two years. Some need more time; some – like Maurice – need less. But once you are officially discharged, there is no readmission. You either have what it takes to work this program or you don’t.’

  ‘Working works?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘If you don’t mind my saying, that sounds kind of strict.’

  ‘It is. Purposefully so.’ He rubbed his lower lip. ‘If our guys think they can leave before they’re prepared to reenter society as productive, drug-free members, they won’t take the program seriously.’

  ‘One and Done,’ I said. ‘Or Two and Through in this case.’

  He smiled again. I guessed I was pleasing him. ‘It works,’ he said.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘If the guys can’t come back, how do you know it works? How do you know they’re not in some other program somewhere else? Or out in the world using.’

  ‘We do follow-up. We place them with programs and people like you and stay in communication with them and their sponsors.’

  ‘And you’ve never had a former resident slip?’

  Just as he was about to answer me, his phone went off. He took it out of his pocket, looked at the number, and said, ‘I have to take this, Raymond. Excuse me.’

  He walked away. By the tone of his voice, I could tell he was either unhappy with the caller or the direction our conversation was heading. Or both. I went back outside to check in on Lisa and Edgar. They both seemed to be lost in the view. I enjoyed it with them for a bit and then told Lisa about my talk with Price.

  ‘I should have warned you, Ray,’ she said. ‘Eddie doesn’t take well to people questioning Newer Leaves’s methods of success. I hate to say this about him because he does help so many people, but there are some he just can’t reach. He can’t seem to admit to that, but some users are treatment-resistant.’

  ‘And he doesn’t acknowledge that?’

  ‘Doesn’t and can’t.’

  ‘I guess that could be considered admirable.’

  ‘It could be. It kills him that he can’t put down one hundred percent success rate on his grant applications. No one would believe those numbers.’

  ‘Nobody’s perfect,’ Edgar chimed in.

  Lisa feigned shock and put her index finger to her lips. ‘Shhh, Edgar. You don’t want that getting around.’

  Somebody cleared a throat. Seeing that it was not one of us, I looked over and saw another man in the same green overalls outfit as the guy Price had been reaming out inside. He walked over to us with great caution and said, ‘Hey, Ms Hamilton.’

  It took Lisa a few seconds until she said, ‘RV. I’ve told you to call me Lisa.’

  The guy stuck his hand out. ‘Lisa.’ He checked Edgar and me out. ‘Sorry I couldn’t make it to the service. I was clearing some of the brush from the back woods. We’re putting in some benches back there. One of them will have MoJo’s name on it. That was my idea. You know how he liked it back there.’

  ‘Nice,’ Lisa said. ‘These are friends of mine and MoJo’s. Ray and Edgar.’

  We shook hands and I said, ‘Nice to meet you, Harvey.’

  He gave me a small smile. ‘Everyone calls me that at fir
st,’ he said. ‘It’s RV.’

  ‘RV?’

  Lisa stood up. ‘Reggie is one of the full-timers here at Newer Leaves, Ray. He’s a former resident and now stays on as maintenance. At first, there wasn’t any room for him inside, so he lives near the woods.’

  ‘In a recreational vehicle,’ he said. ‘That’s why they call me RV. Also, my name’s Robert Valentine, so it kinda works both ways, y’know.’

  I nodded. ‘Cool.’

  ‘Yeah. I gotta satellite TV and WiFi setup. MoJo helped me with that.’

  Edgar asked, ‘What kinda setup ya got?’

  RV explained. Edgar nodded, but he might as well have been speaking French for all I understood. It took no time to realize, though, that he and Edgar literally spoke the same language. I had a feeling RV might’ve tested on the spectrum, as well.

  ‘I’m real sorry about MoJo, Lisa,’ RV said. ‘I mean I just saw him, y’know.’

  Lisa’s face went quizzical. ‘No, RV. I didn’t know. Were you down in the city?’

  RV looked more uncomfortable now. He kicked at the grass. ‘Ah, I talk too much sometimes. But he didn’t tell me it was a secret.’

  ‘When did you see him last?’ Lisa asked. When RV stayed shut, Lisa kept going. ‘RV, it’s not like you’re going to get him into trouble now.’ She paused and slowed down. ‘When did you see MoJo last?’

  Still looking at his feet, RV said, ‘Last week. He was up here Thursday night. I came across him right out here. He said he was doing some security work for Eddie. Checking the perimeter, he said.’

  ‘Wednesday night?’ Lisa said, and I could tell we were both thinking the same thing. And then it hit Edgar.

  ‘MoJo was up here the night before he was killed.’

  TWENTY-ONE

  ‘MoJo said that?’ I asked RV. ‘That he was up here doing security for Eddie?’

  ‘That’s what he told me, yeah.’

  I turned to Edgar. ‘Did you know about this?’

  He shook his head no. Lisa had already answered the question. So why was MoJo up here without his partner or his wife knowing about it? My mind immediately went back to the video MoJo had secretly recorded of Duke Lansing. Edgar hadn’t known about that job, either.

  I looked back at RV. ‘Did you tell anyone up here that you ran into MoJo?’

  RV shrugged. ‘Didn’t think there’d be a reason to. If he was working for Eddie, then Eddie woulda known already, right?’

  ‘Right,’ I said. ‘Let’s keep it that way for now. OK?’

  RV nodded. ‘Whatever’s best for MoJo.’

  Royce was going to love this. Not only did I have to tell him about the archery range, I had info that MoJo had been up here the night before he was killed. He was going to think I’d come up north playing cop again when all I was doing was attending the ceremony. I wondered what the odds were that Royce would believe that. Probably about the same as Uncle Ray’s believing it.

  ‘I should probably be getting back to work now, Ms … Lisa,’ RV said.

  Lisa reached out and touched him on the shoulder. ‘Good to see you again, RV.’

  ‘You sure I didn’t do anything wrong telling you ’bout MoJo being up here?’ He looked at me after asking the question.

  ‘I’m sure,’ Lisa said. Then reading the look on RV’s face, she said, ‘Ray’s not a policeman, RV. He’s a friend from the school MoJo was working at.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said and gave me a good long look and a real smile this time. ‘You sure do look and sound like a cop.’

  ‘I get that a lot,’ I said and offered him my hand. ‘Take care of yourself.’

  ‘Roger that,’ he said. ‘Nice to meet you, too, Edgar.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Edgar said, distracted. He was obviously mulling over the possibility that this was twice his partner was working without his knowledge. ‘Let’s go, Ray,’ he said. ‘Lisa, you ready?’

  ‘I’m getting tired,’ Lisa said. ‘So …’

  We said goodbye to RV again and headed off to Edgar’s car. Lisa held onto my arm as we walked. We were about twenty feet away from the parking lot when we ran into someone else I’d met the other night. Dennis McLain. As with Eddie Price, now that we were in the open and not a noisy bar, I could hear that his accent was more upstate New York than New York City.

  He gave Lisa a careful hug. ‘Again, I am so sorry. MoJo was a great guy.’

  ‘I know, Denny,’ she said. ‘That’s why I married him.’

  Maybe this is what happens when you’ve been mourning a loss and consoled by others non-stop for a week. You develop a weird kind of sense of humor that has nothing to do with being funny and everything to do with not letting the tragedies in your life define you. That’s not something you pick up in social work school; that comes from a much deeper place.

  It turned out MoJo had told Denny about both of us. Lisa explained to Edgar that Denny – Dennis T. McLain, Esq. – was the attorney for Newer Leaves. And, as the old commercial used to say, he was also a client.

  ‘Saved my life,’ he told us. ‘The weekly meetings keep me going.’

  ‘That’s another thing,’ Lisa explained. ‘Newer Leaves has weekly support meetings.’ I knew all this, but I let her explain. ‘Nothing too AA, just guys keeping in touch with one another and sharing stories of Lanel.’

  ‘Lanel?’ Edgar asked.

  ‘L.A.N.L. Life After Newer Leaves. They do three weeklies up here at the mother ship and others around the area. Maurice attended the one in Greenpoint by our apartment and sometimes the one in Park Slope.’

  Park Slope, Brooklyn, not only had a different zip code than Williamsburg, Brooklyn, but a much higher average yearly salary. Brownstones in the Slope went for well above eight figures. Think Woody Allen Brooklyn, not Spike Lee Brooklyn.

  ‘I’m sorry I missed the service,’ Denny said. ‘I had an appointment across the river that went longer than it should have. I don’t have to tell you what happens when you get a bunch of bureaucrats and lawyers in the same room.’ He stuck out his tongue and made a fake gagging noise. I love it when lawyers try to be like the rest of us. ‘We’re working on a grant for Newer Leaves. Nothing too big, but it will allow us to sell the maple syrup we get from the back twenty. More of a public relations deal than actually making any real money. But, that doesn’t stop five different state agencies from getting involved and creating hurdles.’

  ‘I work for the city,’ I said. ‘I’ve been jumping hurdles for the last ten years between the NYPD and DOE.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Denny said. ‘Maurice told me you were a cop and now you’re a teacher.’

  ‘That’s me.’

  ‘Always chasing the mighty dollar, huh?’

  ‘I might be a people person, I’m not sure.’

  ‘Least you got a good union behind you. Lot of people bash the unions these days, but I bet you don’t see a whole bunch of them lining up for your job.’

  ‘Not outside my door,’ I said. ‘Or the precincts.’

  He pointed at me. ‘That’s what I keep telling people. We need the unions so we can attract people like yourself to jobs that – let’s be honest – most folks wouldn’t think of doing and couldn’t think of doing without.’

  ‘You sound like you’re running for office.’

  Lisa laughed. ‘I left that out, Ray. Denny is on the ballot for state senator from this area. Moved his family up here from Queens after his two years at Newer Leaves, opened a private practice, and is now getting into politics.’

  I thought about the regional demographics: a couple of local liberal college towns combined with more conservative rural areas. That’s a tough tightrope to walk for any politician and I said so.

  ‘That’s what makes it fun, Ray,’ McLain said. ‘Listen, at the end of the day, we all want what’s best for New York and the Hudson Valley. Sometimes folks up here feel ignored because of all the attention you city people get.’

  ‘City people like you used to be?’

  He put his finger
to his lips. ‘Shh. I wouldn’t want that getting around. Actually, I use my Queens’ background and current residence as a bit of a bridge between Downstate and Upstate.’

  ‘Is it working?’

  ‘I’m neck-and-neck with my Republican opponent. Who’ – he leaned in and stage-whispered – ‘I sometimes go hunting with.’

  ‘Scandalous,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t get too many scandals up here. State senate race usually comes down to gun control, reproductive rights, and taxes. I’m slightly left of center, my opponent is slightly right. I hate to say it, but the more old folks who … go elsewhere, the better the numbers look for me.’

  ‘By “elsewhere” you mean …?’ said Edgar.

  Denny smiled. ‘Heaven or Hell.’ He paused. ‘Or Florida.’

  Lisa cleared her throat, which I took as my cue to check my watch. ‘We need to hit the road, Denny. If we don’t leave now we’re gonna make it just in time for that traffic in the Bronx.’

  ‘One thing I don’t miss about the city,’ he said and shook hands with Edgar and me. He gave Lisa another careful hug and a kiss on the cheek. ‘Be well, Mama,’ he said. ‘You’ll let us know when the little one comes?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Ten minutes later I had a take-out bag filled with a barbecue dinner for Allison and me. Twenty minutes later we were on the thruway headed home. Lisa had fallen asleep in the back seat, so the ride south was quiet. Edgar had his eyes on the road and his hands at two and ten. I could tell he didn’t feel like talking. I kept myself busy mentally, reviewing all the major league baseball players coming off bad seasons or injuries last season. The Yanks and Mets had their shares.

  It did not escape me that my brain at the moment was filled with the idea of comebacks and redemption.

  TWENTY-TWO

  By the time I got home, the sun was behind the city and Allison had all the windows open. She was on the back deck, watching the sunset, a glass of white wine in her hand. I cleared my throat so I wouldn’t startle her. She turned and I raised the bag of barbecue I’d brought home from the wild. She raised her glass in a toast. To me, maybe, but more likely the bag of food I was holding.