Seven Years After

by Marvin Perkins

Seven Years After

  by

  Marvin K. Perkins

  Copyright 2013 by Marvin K. Perkins

  Chapter One

  The morning sun brilliantly appeared on the horizon to usher in another beautiful San Diego morning. A few joggers and hard-core hikers plotted along the pathway at Mission Trails, going through their morning routine. In the distance a merchant ship could be seen lumbering down San Diego bay, heading for the open ocean and to ports in a far away land. Birds in the trees along the trail had awoken and started to sing their morning songs to the few exercise fanatics dedicated enough to be out at such an ungodly hour.

  A figure in a jogging suit lie half on and half off the pathway, as of yet unnoticed by any of the other early morning visitors. In his stillness, he seemed to be dead, breathing very shallow, features white as a ghost. The sun shone on his face, but he did not awaken. Birds sang to him sweetly but he did not heed their call. The ocean going vessel in the bay blew its horn loudly, but he did not hear.

  The man was young, in his late thirties, and blond with a long golden goatee. He was of average height and weight, but with unusually large feet that were covered by hiking boots that showed the many miles of ground he had covered in them.

  Jogging intensely, pumping her arms furiously to gain maximum training value, a lady flew by at first not noticing the young man languishing on the trail. She stopped in her tracks, turning around in horror to see him seemingly dead on the ground. Cautiously and carefully she approached him, not knowing what action she should take.

  “Are you okay?” she inquired, shaking the fallen comrade of the trails. “Young man are you all right?” He did not stir or acknowledge her presence. “Help, help, somebody,” she yelled at the top of her lungs, interrupting the solitude of peaceful morning. Her cries, at first, fell on deaf ears. She yelled again frantically, still shaking the man on the ground, who she feared was dead.

  At long last another lone jogger happened by. He stopped, huffing and puffing, attempting to catch his breath. “What's wrong?” he panted.

  “I think he might be dead.” She cried pointing at the lifeless victim on the ground.

  “Is he breathing? Does he have a pulse?”

  “How the hell would I know? I'm not a doctor.”

  “Oh, for Christ's sake.” The male jogger came over and kneeling down, he felt the man on the ground's chest and observed it rising up and down. With the first two fingers of his right hand, he found a pulse on the victim's neck, although a very faint one. “He's breathing. He's got a pulse, just passed out. You got a cell phone?”

  “Uh, yeah,” the lady said pulling one out of her pocket.

  “Call 911, this man needs an ambulance.”

  Chapter Two

  Valerie Smithson, a petite, attractive, Afro-America lady of thirty, with big brown eyes and a dimpled chin, at first took the disappearance of her estranged husband in stride. He had vanished before, living in a tent in a midtown beach community. So she at first didn't give his latest exploit into the unknown a single thought. Valerie had her career as a paralegal and her five year daughter Brittany, also know affectionately as Muffin, to occupy her time.

  “Mother scratch-er,” she said in her quirky form of profanity. “The freck with him. I hope he's dead. At least I can collect on his life insurance. Be the only money that bum ever gave Muffin and me.” She folded a pair of her daughter's little pants and stared aimlessly out the kitchen window of her tiny, modest apartment. A next door neighbor shuffled by carrying a basket of laundry, nodded her head and smiled. “Poor Muffin, I know she is going to miss her old worthless daddy. I'll just tell her he went on vacation. I'm sure he'll be back soon,” she said to herself as she folded a shirt and put it into the clothes basket.

  “Hello Pete?” she inquired of her brother-in-law on the other end of the phone in L.A. “Have you heard anything from Charles?”

  “No, not a word. I hope he's gone for good this time. He's impossible. No one could get along with that guy Valerie, God knows I tried. But you know I have a temper and so does Charles. I had enough of his crap.” Pete answered starting to get a little upset.

  “Well okay. Let me know if hear anything.”

  Pete didn't say anything, he just slammed the phone's receiver back down on the cradle.

  Valerie looked at her phone's receiver questioningly and hung up herself, wondering what she had done to upset her brother-in-law so badly.

  It was Saturday and Muffin was still asleep, a perfect time for reflection. She poured herself a second cup of strong coffee and sat down on one of her two kitchen chairs and let her mind wander.

  She was a girl of twenty once again, shy and vulnerable. Although in the body of a woman she was still childlike, very much the school girl that she was in every respect. Valerie had been a student at Washington State University and living on campus. After a particularly ugly incident of sexual harassment and assault by a male faculty member, she had moved back home to live with her mom, Mary, and her step-dad Michael, five miles outside of the sleepy little Washington town of Snohomish.

  Her new home was serene and quiet, just what she needed to recover from her traumatic episode at the school campus. She had not pursued or elected to press charges in the matter, opting to just put the whole terrible thing behind her. She decided to drop out of school and find a job. Maybe pursuing her dream to be an attorney would just have to be put on hold. She was still young, there would be time.

  Having no real experience and only her schooling to find employment, she took a job as a bank teller at the Sea First Bank in Seattle, Washington. Fate is a funny thing, but it was in this capacity that she met her future husband, and father of her child, Charles Randolph Smithson. He was employed at an establishment close by teaching chess and working as a sales person in the store.

  Valerie had been noticing Charles and he had been noticing her as well. Being shy, she had not said anything to him but, “thank you, have a nice day.” Though a voice inside her was screaming, “say something to him. He's cute.” But she never did, being an old fashioned kind of girl who thought the man should make the first move.

  Finally Charles did muster up the courage to make the first move. “Hi, I'm Charles,” he said looking shyly at the floor.

  “I know. It's on your deposit slip.”

  “Oh yeah, I guess you do know my name.”

  They both laughed, breaking the tension of the situation.

  “I'm Valerie,” looking down at her name tag. “Connors.”

  Feeling a little bolder Charles followed suit. “I'm Charles Smithson, of the Seattle, Washington Smithsons. I would be honored to accompany the lady to dinner tonight at a restaurant of her choice, if she so desires.”

  They both laughed again.

  “You're funny. Okay. I get off at six. I'll meet you in front of the bank. I'll even let you pick the restaurant.”

  From this small seed, the flower of their love would grow. Charles was Valerie's first love, her only love. They had some good years together and some not so good. But out of their love a beautiful baby girl came to be and it was all worth it.

  Brittany, Muffin, as she was always called, was Valerie's life and reason for living. She brought joy to an otherwise joyless life with a man that was never able to rise to the challenge of being a father.

  Muffin came into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes, bringing Valerie back to reality. “I'm hungry mommy. Can I have some cereal?” She said and plopped down on the other dining room chair. “What you doing mommy? You thinking about daddy? Where did you say daddy went?”

  Valerie didn't even answer, but just got up and fixed her little girl a bowl of cereal. She grabbed a clean spoon out of the drawer and almo
st threw it on the table in front of her child. “There's your cereal,” Valerie said almost in disgust. She sat back down in her chair and took a sip of coffee that had become almost too cold to drink.

  “Are you mad with me mommy?” Muffin asked through a mouthful of Captain Crunch.

  “No honey, I'm not mad at you?”

  “Where did you say daddy was?”

  So it went through the years. Muffin kept asking where her daddy was and still there was no answer Valerie could give to the child.

  Losing her job as a paralegal, Valerie went on unemployment and eventually moved back in with her folks again, who by this point were living in San Diego. Things had gone full circle back to when she was a girl. Two years later she finally found work for the state of California, in the unemployment office of all places. She hated her job, it was very stressful, but she had to work. She dreamed of the day when her and Muffin would have their own place again.

  The police had put a missing person's report out on Charles, but nothing became of it. Valerie even went to the city morgue a couple of times to view the remains of “John Does,” but they were not Charles.

  She was in the process of talking to an attorney about a divorce decree and eventually claiming him deceased. She desperately needed Charles' insurance money to start a new life for her and Muffin and she more than anything wanted to put him out of her life for good. Valerie's indignation for her long since departed husband had grow overpowering through the years. Muffin blamed mommy for sending her daddy away and it was tearing Valerie apart. She, deep down, felt in someway she had contributed to his departure and maybe even his death. She lived in a frantic state of mind, constantly wondering how and when her nightmare was going to end.

  Day by day was the only way she was able to survive these trying years.

  Chapter Three

  The hospital monitor beeped, pacing Charles' vital signs as he lie in his bed not knowing the life that he had lived for the past seven years was going to be suddenly smashed into his present existence in a matter of a few minutes.

  A nurse stood over him checking his vitals, seeing everything was okay, she started out the door.

  “Nurse, where am I?” a groggy Charles said in as loud of a voice as he could muster.

  The nurse, somewhat shocked that he was awake, returned immediately to Charles' bedside. “You're in the hospital, hon. You were found passed out on the hiking trail. Apparently from a thyroid malfunction of some sort. That's what your chart says. The doctor will have to fill you in on all the details.”

  Charles just looked at the nurse in disbelief. “How long have I been here?”

  “For a few hours?”

  “Was there a cell phone in my pocket?”

  “I don't know, I'll have to check for you. By the way, we need to contact your next of kin. Do you have someone you would like us to call, a wife perhaps?

  Charles looked perplexed and confused at this seemingly basic question. He thought for a minute. “I have a sister whose a college professor in Boston. I don't know her number. I had a wife and a daughter, but they're dead.”

  “I'm so sorry to hear that,” the nurse said feigning concern. “I will try to reach your sister, somehow. You try and get some rest.”

  Chapter Four

  “Valerie? This is Maria.”

  “Hi Maria, what's up?”

  “Are you sitting down. You better brace yourself for this one. They found Charles!”

  Valerie wasn't sitting down but she all but fell out on her bed from the shocking revelation. “What?” was all she could say, as the room whirled round and round like a nightmarish carnival ride.

  “I said, they found Charles. He was passed out on Mission Trails and a couple of joggers found him and called 911. He's at Scripps in Chula Vista, room 892.”

  “Why did they call you, Maria?” I'm his wife.” A confused Valerie inquired, still whirling.

  “The nurse who contacted me got my name from a Google search. She said Charles told her his wife and daughter were dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “That's what Charles told them.”

  “But why?” Valerie replied, still shocked at the thought of Charles professing his wife and daughter were dead.

  “I don't know. Listen I'll be there tomorrow. Charles wants to see me. Let me see him first and decide whether it is a good idea for you and Muffin to see him, due to fact that he thinks you are dead. The shock might be overwhelming if he actually, in his mind, believes you are in fact dead,” Maria proclaimed in her brand of psycho-babble. She after all was a psychologist, even if she was a genuine flake.

  “Okay, call me when you get to San Diego.” They hung up and Valerie lie on the bed virtually pinned by the weight of the situation that had just been thrust upon her. “Oh, dear God. What am I going to tell Muffin? I know she's gonna want to see her daddy. But he thinks she's dead. I can't tell her that. God help me.”

  Chapter Five

  Charles lie in his hospital bed almost petrified with fear, but he was hooked up to too many tubes and miscellaneous gear to get up and make a run for it. That's if he could walk or even stand, “What if they're watching me? These people have eyes everywhere. They must not find out about my wife and daughter. They will use them against me. You don't know these people. They kill whole families. I've got to get out of here.” He pulled at the tubes in frustration, they increased his already agitated state.

  The nurse and doctor appeared, at least to Charles, out of nowhere, beaming big smiles that made Charles want to puke. “And how is our patient this morning?” Said a young resident of unknown declivity, but short and dark with wavy black hair and brown eyes that twinkled when he spoke.

  “I think I'll live, doc. How long do you think I'm gonna be stuck here?”

  “I still need to run some more tests. You have a very unusual thyroid condition. That's what caused you to pass out. If the test comes back negative, I don't see any reason you can't leave later on today.”

  “Oh, by the way. I asked the nurse but she never said. Did I have a cell phone in my pocket when you found me?”

  “No, there was no phone as far as we know. Just get some rest, I'll keep you apprised of the status of your tests. The nurse will need to draw a little bit more blood, I'm afraid.”

  “Are you sure you didn't find a cell phone? I need my phone!”

  “No, quite sure,” the doctor said with a placated look on his face, opening the door to leave.

  Charles was still frantic as he watched the doctor disappear out of the door.

  The nurse drew a couple of tubes of blood and left, leaving Charles in a frenetic state of mind. “They must have taken it. Oh my God, if that phone falls into the wrong hands, all hell is gonna break loose. I've got to get out of here and find that phone. Maybe it fell out of my pocket on the trail.”

  He tried in vain to get up, struggling with his balance, but only succeeding in falling back down on the bed. The room spun around uncontrollably and Charles thought he was going to hurl. He tried again with the same result.

  He could just see them with his phone and all the contacts it contained. It was a gold mine of information and incrimination, if the cops got their hands on it. He had to find it. But at that moment he could only lie helplessly in his hospital bed. “It was easy. It was all too easy,” he mumbled as he let himself succumb to much needed sleep.

  Chapter Six

  The sun awoke the next morning to find Valerie prostrate in her bed, blood shot eyes wide open and staring at her bedroom ceiling. She hadn't slept at all, feeling the overwhelming burden of the latest bomb shell her sister-in-law had dropped on her the day before. “Charles is alive, but he thinks me and Muffin are dead. Why? Why does he think we are dead. Are we dead to him? Is that what this means? What am I gonna do?” The questions whirled around so violently in Valerie's head she was certain her fractured brain was going to explode.

  Her cell chirped, looking at it through blurry eyes
she noticed it was Maria calling. “Hello.”

  “Valerie, it's Maria.”

  “I know, caller I.D.”

  “I'm boarding my flight right now, I'll be in San Diego in five hours. I'm going to rent a car at the airport and drive straight to the hospital to see Charles. I'll call you after I've seen him. Got to go now, bye.”

  “Maria, I need...” Valerie started to say, but noticed the call had disconnected.

  She wanted to go to the hospital and confront her estranged husband that had put her and her daughter through a living hell for seven years, only to show up and complicate her already complicated life. “I need this crap, right now. I still have to tell Muffin. God knows what she's gonna do, probably freak out. I know she's gonna want to see him. She hadn't stop talking about him the whole time he's been gone. I can't understand her fixation on that freaking loser.”

  There was a tap on her door. Her mom, Mary, was cooking breakfast and wanted to know if she wanted some. “No, I'm not hungry right now, Ma.” She still hadn't told her mother about the reappearance of Charles. That was going to be a conversation like no other over a couple of cups of strong coffee. She could just imagine what her mom was going to say. She always hated Charles. She had told Valerie many times to declare that idiot dead and move on with her life.

  Appearing in kitchen like a dark ghost, Valerie drug herself in and fell on the comfortable love seat in the din where Mary was drinking coffee, eating some bacon and eggs and watching an old episode of “Murder She Wrote.”

  “Hi Ma,” Valerie sighed, looking like she wanted to say more but didn't.

  Her mom could tell from just these two simple words that something was troubling her daughter. Not just some little thing like a problem at work she was always dragging home and making subjects of long conversations, but something major was in the works. “What's wrong? Trouble at work again?”