by Anne McClane
“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Lacey said as she went to his side.
“Ambrose, go,” she said, and pointed toward the kitchen.
He responded in a way very rare for him. He gave a low growl and bared his teeth, but obeyed anyway, walking out with his head hung low.
Hiding her shock, Lacey said to Nathan, “Let’s set you down somewhere more comfortable. I hope the walk didn’t do you in.”
“I’ll be okay, I think. I’m just weak.”
Nathan accepted her offered arm this time without hesitation, and she led him out of the laundry room, through the kitchen, and out into the airy living room. She set him down on her sofa. It was a huge sectional, glaringly big for just one person.
Lacey thought for a moment of grabbing a towel. Nathan was covered in dirt that was going to transfer to her furniture. But she decided to deal with it later.
Ambrose returned and positioned himself directly across from Nathan.
“Nice dog,” Nathan said in a strained voice. “Would you mind terribly if I lay down?”
“No! Please, go ahead,” Lacey said, her panic beginning to crescendo again. “Should I call a doctor or an ambulance or something?”
“No, this is fine. I’ll be fine.” And before Lacey could fret any more about the possibility of his situation worsening and having to deal with a dirty dead man on her couch, he was fast asleep, the same way he had been underneath the overpass just minutes before.
After standing for a moment perplexed, she tiptoed up to him, and Ambrose followed, at the ready. She made sure she could see Nathan breathing in his supine position. He was, in deep, almost snore-like breaths. The cut on his face did not appear as bad as it first had. Maybe the harsh light from the street lamp had made his injuries look so severe. She remembered his shoulder, and how he’d winced when he tried to move it. She tentatively reached out her hand toward the tear in his shirt to see the skin underneath. Ambrose strained his huge neck behind her.
There appeared to be an old scar on his well-muscled shoulder, but it otherwise looked fine. Lacey stepped back and exhaled, trying to settle down and take stock of her situation.
Pull yourself together, she thought. She thought of her car, and had an overwhelming need to have everything in its proper place.
“Stay,” she told Ambrose. “Watch him.” Ambrose promptly sat back on his haunches to keep watch over Nathan.
Lacey darted to her bedroom and pulled on running clothes and shoes. She grabbed the spare key to the Accord and kept it in hand with her house key.
Lacey laid Nathan’s linen jacket on the back of a chair. She caught her breath at the sight of it. It was covered in blood and dirt. She glanced at her own shoulder to make sure it was still intact.
She returned to Nathan, totally insensate on her couch. He appeared in much better shape than the jacket. Ambrose stood guard.
Before she slipped out the door, Lacey thought of what might happen if Nathan woke up. He would see that giant dog’s head, a long line of drool dripping from his massive jaw. She felt reassured.
It took her less than two minutes to run back to the interstate. She didn’t want to dally, she only wanted to prevent any unwanted attention. Her randomly parked car would draw just that, she was sure, once daylight arrived.
Ga-dunk.
She froze at the sound. Don’t dally, she thought. Move, move.
Her body wouldn’t follow her brain. Statue-like, she looked toward her car and saw something higher up, through the trees. Some sort of structure, the light from the street casting sparks off parallel lines and radius curves. Lacey thought of what lay in that direction. The dog park, a reception hall, Popp Fountain.
Popp Fountain.
Fuck, she thought.
Ga-dunk.
Of course. Whatever happened to me tonight would have to happen in the shadow of Popp Fountain. Fucking Fox.
Lacey looked down and blinked away a tear.
Ga-dunk.
The sound released her as quickly as it had paralyzed her. Move.
She cut a diagonal path to her car and passed directly by a column, roughly ten feet behind where she’d first awoken. She stopped when she saw something at the column base. Jeans, T-shirt, underwear, bra, all in a neat pile. Her stomach jumped.
She scooped them up and ran even faster toward her car.
Lacey was shaking when she reentered through the laundry room, her clothes tucked under her arm. She locked the deadbolt and stood for several moments with her back to the door. She thought of the stranger lying on her couch and wondered if it was a good idea to be locked inside with him.
What if he raped me, and that’s why I woke up naked next to him? she thought. And why am I only thinking this now, after I left him alone in my house?
A depraved sex fiend wouldn’t leave her clothes like that, in a neatly folded pile. She knew she must have left them that way herself. And she had gone to him, and he had been badly injured, she now remembered that clearly. But she still had no memory of stripping down, or anything that had happened after. The blackout was like a shrinking inkblot, with reality slowly revealing itself from the edges.
She laid her clothes on the dryer. In the living room, Ambrose had not moved, only the line of drool dripping from his jowls had lengthened. Nathan had moved—he was lying on his side, not his back. Lacey positioned herself behind the dog and stood, arms folded and eyes intent. The clock on the side table caught her eye. It read 4:47. More than three hours had passed since she had left Patton’s.
Where is his wife? Is she wondering where he is? Lacey thought of the evenings she’d spent alone, fully duped by whatever excuse Fox had given her. She had chosen that ignorance. Who did that hurt more?
Nathan’s eyes blinked open. Ambrose moved to close in on him.
“Stay,” Lacey said.
Nathan laughed. “Me, or him?”
“Both,” Lacey answered, her arms still folded.
“Tell your hound I’m just going to sit up now, okay?”
Lacey called Ambrose to her side. Nathan moved deliberately. Lacey wasn’t sure if it was out of caution or pain, and she didn’t care at that moment.
“Do we need to get you to a hospital?” she asked.
“No!” he said adamantly. “No. I’ll be fine. I just need to think. What time is it?”
“Almost five a.m.,” Lacey said.
“And it’s Sunday, right?”
“Yes,” she said, her impatience bubbling up. “Nathan, what happened to you? Why did I find you underneath the interstate?”
He was sitting up, his hands on his knees.
“I was shot,” he said, “and thrown out of a car, left for dead.”
Lacey wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “Jesus. Did you say shot?”
“Yeah. My wife and I were fighting last night, and…”
Marriage confirmed, Lacey thought. “Your wife shot you?” she asked.
“No, not my wife. Hold on, okay?” Nathan rubbed his face with his hands. He looked at Lacey and Ambrose. “This feels like an interrogation.”
Lacey relaxed her stance, but didn’t move.
“Well, it sorta is. Look, Nathan.” She emphasized his name. “Last thing I remember is seeing you, thinking you’re dead, and then I’m naked, and you’re not dead. I’m figuring something major happened during that blackout.”
He smiled at her. Lacey couldn’t comprehend his expression, and it unnerved her further.
“And you seem pretty cavalier, for someone who supposedly just escaped the clutches of death,” she said.
“I’m not cavalier,” he said, the smile disappearing. “I don’t know what I am. Everything feels unreal right now.”
“Maybe you’re in shock,” Lacey said.
“Are you a medical professional?” Nathan asked, sarcasm apparent.
Lacey bristled. “No. But you won’t let me take you to one, so I’m all you’ve got right now.”
“Look, I know. I’m sorry,” Na
than said. Tentative, he stood.
“I just need to think,” he said. “I’ll finish telling you what I know, and then I’ll think of what to do next.” He let out a dry cough. “Could I have some water, please?” He choked out the words.
Lacey nodded and turned to the kitchen. Nathan followed with Ambrose at his heel.
She fetched two glasses and filled them with ice water. Without turning around, she said, “If you’re up for it, have a seat at the kitchen table. Otherwise, I can bring this out to you in the living room.”
Nathan took a seat before Lacey had finished speaking. She set a glass in front of him and then sat at the opposite end.
“Thank you,” he said. “Look, I’m trying to piece everything together myself, so can you bear with me while I sound this out?”
Lacey remembered his dependency on her during the walk to the house, and felt a sudden pang of concern. She considered moving closer to him, but remained in her place, silent, and nodded for him to proceed with his story.
“My wife and I met friends for dinner at the Steak Knife. Our friends left, and we had a drink at the bar, just the two of us. It had been her idea. We got into a fight, and I stepped away, trying to cool things down.”
Lacey suppressed the hundred questions that immediately came to mind.
“I went to the bathroom,” Nathan continued, “and when I came back, she was gone. Took the car and went home, I assume. It was about eleven thirty when she left.” He paused and sipped his water. “I figured I wasn’t going anywhere for a while, so I had one more drink at the bar.”
Lacey wanted to say something about how cavalier that sounded, but bit her tongue.
“That’s where things start to get fuzzy. I was going to call a cab, but decided to take a walk first.” Nathan fingered the toile runner on the table and looked at Lacey sideways. “I thought of walking over to Patton’s, to see if you might still be there,” he said.
Lacey felt her stomach jump. She wasn’t sure if she was charmed or creeped out. She tried not to let it show.
“How did you know I was at Patton’s?” she asked.
“I didn’t. It was an educated guess.”
“But you didn’t go to Patton’s,” she said. She wanted him to finish his story.
“No. I started walking toward Argonne. A friend from college just finished building there; I thought I’d just pass by, see it from the outside, and collect my thoughts in the process.”
Again, Lacey thought of how suspicious that seemed, but didn’t say anything.
“It turned out to be a pretty stupid thing to do,” he continued, his eyes cast down, both hands now on the table runner. “I got into a scuffle as I turned the corner by the gas station. Things went from bad to worse, and next thing I know I’m thrown out of a car, left for dead.”
He stopped talking and took another sip of water. He avoided Lacey’s direct gaze. The pause in his story stretched into an awkward silence.
Finally, Lacey asked, “A scuffle?” She knew the meaning of the word, but it seemed grossly inadequate.
Nathan sighed. “Yeah. Look, I know better, all right?” He looked her in the eye. “I guess this is how people wind up dead. When I turned the corner onto Argonne, there were some guys who looked like they were in the middle of something. I’m not sure if they thought they could take me for some cash, or if they thought I saw something they didn’t want me to see.”
Lacey was confused. And concerned.
“Shouldn’t you tell the police about this?” she asked.
“Yeah, I will,” he said. The weight of something was evident in his face. Something he wasn’t telling her?
“Maybe,” he continued. “Do you want to find out what happened with you, or not?”
His impatience set Lacey back. Her response was snippy. “Please, by all means. Continue.”
“They overpowered me and threw me into the car. And they left my wallet untouched. That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
Lacey shrugged. She wasn’t about to interrupt again so soon.
“There was one guy who would not stop talking. There were three guys altogether, but one just couldn’t seem to shut up. Like a nervous talker. I remember him just babbling away, and then one of the other guys—one who was in the back with me—shot me.”
Lacey shifted in her seat. She knew he was leaving something out, but she felt too vulnerable to push the issue. She made a gesture that Nathan couldn’t see, and Ambrose responded and came to her side.
Nathan looked up at Lacey. “I don’t remember much after that. I must have blacked out. I do remember getting thrown—hard—out of the car. I don’t even think it stopped.”
Lacey asked what felt like a pertinent question. “Was it where I found you?”
“No,” he answered quickly. “I had been struggling—for how long, I couldn’t tell you—to get somewhere where I’d have a better chance of getting help. I don’t know where they dropped me, but I know I woke up somewhere that felt remote. I made myself get up and start walking. I know I passed the dog park before you found me.”
Another pertinent question occurred to Lacey. “Is your phone dead?”
His eyes narrowed in response. “I don’t have it,” he said curtly.
Lacey pursed her lips to keep from responding.
Nathan added, more softly, “It was in the car. So my wife really left me stranded in more ways than one.”
Lacey remembered how he was supposed to be retrieving something from his car when she first met him.
“Okay,” she said in as flat a voice as she could muster.
“I didn’t have much left in me by the time you found me,” he continued. “I guess that was obvious.”
“I thought you were dead,” she said.
Nathan looked as serious as death, but something like awe started to soften his expression. He paused for a long time before speaking again.
“I think I was. Or very close.”
Lacey didn’t respond. Her left hand reached underneath the table for the scruff of Ambrose’s neck.
“You. You did…something to me,” Nathan continued. “There was a light. Something that you had, or something that came from you. I don’t think I was in any pain by the time you came to me…either shock or something…I was starting to slip. There was a very pleasant confusion as I watched you take off all your clothes.”
Lacey was rapt. But the thought that Nathan might be mentally unstable occurred to her for the first time.
“The light became very intense, but it wasn’t blinding,” he said. “It was more like…sunlight…you know how you can feel the sunlight through closed eyes, when you’re lying on the beach?”
Lacey nodded.
“You did something. Or whatever you had with you did something. I knew I was starting to slip, but then you came along, and my life was back.”
Lacey wanted to ask, Are you fucking crazy? Instead, she chose her words carefully.
“What are you saying?” she asked.
He said, in plain words that did not seem at all unhinged, “You’re the reason I’m not dead.”
5
Lacey dropped Nathan off on Fontainebleau at Carrollton, careful not to ask him where he was headed. During the short drive to his neighborhood, she had discovered he had two young children. That made her feel even guiltier about her attraction, and about what had happened. Whatever it was.
Nathan was convinced she was the purveyor of some miraculous happening, a healing angel of light. Lacey’s initial reaction to his confession, his confession to a belief in the impossible, was annoyance.
She was annoyed that he saw her as something she was not, and very annoyed with herself for not being able to remember a lick of anything that had happened. And annoyed that he’d used the word “angel”. Lacey had never much cared for angels; they always seemed snobby in the Bible.
Lacey almost made a clean getaway, eyes straight ahead as she drove off. But as soon as she made a U-turn to go
back in the direction of home, she couldn’t help herself. She looked to her right and saw him, straight backed with a slight strut to his walk, making slow progress into the rapidly lightening horizon. He turned just in time to see her, his eyes locking on hers.
Shit, she thought. Everything about him feels messy.
Lacey was charged up and unsettled the rest of the way home. When she turned onto Florida, the sky had lightened so much that she could clearly see her neighbor, Max Kamenitz, framed against the backdrop of his weeping willow. She’d always marveled at how he still managed to spy on everything in spite of that unkempt tree, its foliage trailing the ground of his front yard.
He was in his summer uniform of boxers and sleeveless undershirt, cigarette in his left hand, leash and poodle in his right. Lacey’s mom had deemed him “Kravitz” during the time she had stayed with Lacey after Fox died, and the nickname, unbeknownst to him, had stuck.
There would be no escaping, Lacey knew. He would be passing by as she turned into her driveway. Lacey thought of driving around the neighborhood to avoid him, but couldn’t think of any excuse to explain it later. Because he would ask.
She was still in her running clothes. Perfect. That would be her cover. Lacey took a deep breath as she stepped out of her car, phone and keys in hand.
“Mornin’, little Lacey. Where you coming from so early?” Neither his posture nor his voice suited his interrogations, incongruities Lacey had noted long ago: slightly stooped, friendly expression; a treble to his words, which sounded like they were raked over gravel before leaving his throat.
Here we go, Lacey thought. “I went for a run up at Audubon. Went a little ways along the river, too.”
“You’re too good for City Park, now?” There was a twinkle in his eye as he rasped out the words.
“Oh, come on, now. You know I’ve covered every inch of that park, between my runs and walking Ambrose. Sometimes I just need a change of scenery!”
Kravitz coughed out a laugh. “Sure enough. Though you sure are ambitious. There’s a lot of park to cover. I heard from the city again,” he continued.