Through the Fog

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Through the Fog Page 2

by Michael C. Grumley


  What really worried her, though, was how quickly Evan’s heart rate had increased; she was worried even more by how quickly he began sweating. Both effects were unusual, as was the shaking, and while together they weren’t enough for her to believe he’d been having epileptic episodes, Mayer reluctantly acknowledged that might yet be the reason for his hallucinations.

  A few minutes later, Evan returned from the restroom, closing the door quietly behind him. He walked tentatively across the room, not sure if he should sit back down.

  Mayer answered his unspoken question by standing up to meet him. “Evan, I’m going to suggest we end our examination early, after what you’ve just been through. I want you to go home and try to get some sleep.”

  “Okay.” There was obvious relief in his voice.

  “With that said, I think I would like you to see a doctor. I think this problem may still be related to your accident.”

  Evan took a deep breath.

  “And I don’t want you to worry about money, let me work on that.” She motioned toward the door, and walked with him.

  “I don’t want any pills.”

  “I understand.” This was not the time to get into that, she thought.

  She opened the door, and they walked back down the short hallway into the large, open reception area. Mayer kept her grin hidden as she watched Evan’s expression change upon seeing her receptionist, Tania. She could have been a model, and most of her male patients had a very similar reaction.

  “Tania,” she said, “could you please call Dr. Wells at Family Medical and tell him I’d like to send someone over as soon as possible?” She looked at Evan. “Can you make it Friday?”

  Evan shrugged. “I think so.”

  Tania dialed the number and spoke briefly to someone on the other end, while Evan tried hard not to stare at her.

  She hung up and wrote the time and address on a card. “Do you know where Cypress Street is?”

  “Yes.” Evan took the card from Tania and examined it.

  “Do you have a way to get there?” Mayer interjected.

  Evan shrugged and snuck another glance at Tania. “If I can’t catch the bus, I guess there’s always parachuting in.”

  Tania laughed and flashed her perfect smile.

  At the same time, Mayer chuckled and put a gentle hand on Evan’s arm. “Let’s talk again after you’ve seen Dr. Wells.”

  Evan thanked them and crossed the room to the door, opened it and stepped out.

  When the door clicked shut, Mayer turned to her receptionist. “Thanks Tania. Can you be sure to schedule a call with Evan on Monday?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Mayer took a deep breath, still thinking about the young man. As she turned to walk back to her office, something on Tania’s desk sent a chill through the doctor’s body.

  5

  Roa sat down at his old kitchen table. It was made of green Formica with matching vinyl seats, and easily recognizable by anyone who lived through the 1960s or ’70s. The rest of the small dining room was cluttered with boxes and piles of magazines stacked around the base of the walls. A tired-looking computer sat in the corner on a desk that seemed almost as old as the kitchen table. In a few days, it would all be gone.

  He unfolded an envelope and carefully pulled out the contents. Obtaining fake passports was not easy, especially if you wanted them to work. He looked at both and studied the pictures again. He flexed the tiny pages back and forth. They looked good, really good.

  It took him almost a year to find someone who could counterfeit this well; and it took more than just a lot of money, it took time. He knew he’d found the right group when they proceeded to spend months investigating him, making sure his request wasn’t a set-up. Not that people in China had all that much to worry about. But ultimately, the most important benefit was avoiding the biggest mistake people made when dealing with forged documents.

  Most people in the United States interested in buying a new ID simply didn’t know what they were doing. They didn’t understand how the system worked or what was necessary. As a result, most of them made the same classic blunder, because they were unable to think outside the box. They were never able to get out of the mindset of a U.S. citizen. In other words, the idiots only considered a new U.S.-issued identity, which is why so many were caught. Creating a new ID in the U.S. meant also breaking into the systems of the State Department, which virtually no one could do, regardless of what the forgers claimed. But by then they already had your money.

  What a select few realized was that it was far easier to break into a computer system in a smaller, less sophisticated country instead. For example, in Roa’s case, Belize. And only idiots would send forged documents through the U.S. mail.

  He hadn’t wanted to go to Mexico to retrieve them, but it was the safest way, and in the end would be well worth it.

  Roa looked at the picture on the second passport. It looked good, very relaxed. She would do fine. And their exit point sure as hell wasn’t going to be Mexico. This time it would be the weakest point of the entire United States border. And it would be soon.

  6

  Glendale, California was founded by José María Verdugo in the late eighteenth century as part of a large grant from then Governor Diego de Borica. Over two hundred years later, the city’s oldest building, the Verdugo Adobe, was still standing, and Glendale had grown into one of the largest suburbs in the greater Los Angeles area. The area also had the honor of having the second largest number of psychiatrists in the country. Some joked that given the reputation of the L.A. area and nearby Hollywood, the high number of local psychiatrists was not a coincidence.

  The Verdugo Adobe was just two blocks away when Shannon Mayer drove by on Canada Boulevard. She continued north for another quarter mile, then turned left and headed west on San Gabriel. After a slow right turn, she passed the entrance of the country club and continued up the winding hill, inevitably driving slower and slower.

  She was still thinking about Evan. He was a good kid, quiet, but very sharp. She had to admit he’d become a strange, yet welcome, distraction for her. But as her car made its way up the winding road, that distraction quickly melted away.

  Reaching the top, she slowed at the end of the cul-de-sac and brought her blue BMW X5 to a stop. A long stare at the iron gates filled her with a familiar dread. She reluctantly reached up to press the button on her visor. Both sides of the white gates swung open smoothly, allowing her to pull through onto a long paved driveway. Mayer barely noticed the manicured lawn as she rolled slowly up the driveway, finally stopping at the far end in front of a beautiful house. The red brick face with white columns on either side of the entryway gave it an old, colonial-style appearance, and it was the first thing she had fallen in love with.

  Mayer put the car in park and turned off the ignition, but she did not get out. She stared wearily at the giant house and took a long, deep breath. Just a few years ago this was her dream house; but now, coming home was very different. It was agonizing, and the last thing she wanted to do was go inside.

  7

  The office on Cypress Street was just off of South Glendale Avenue. It was a small group of private medical doctors, practicing just a few blocks from the local hospital and less than a half mile from Shannon Mayer’s own office. It also happened to be where Mayer’s younger sister worked.

  “Hey Sis,” Mary said when she spotted her older sister through the narrow doorway. “I didn’t know you were coming over.” She shook her hands over the small sink and reached for a paper towel. “We had a look at your boy this morning. Evan Nash, right?”

  Shannon nodded. “How’d it go?”

  Mary finished, tossing the towel away, and smiled at her. “I’m not supposed to say. Doctor Wells wanted to brief you. Or should I say, John wanted to brief you.”

  Shannon tried to hide her rolling eyes
, but her sister caught it anyway. It was well known that the doctor had a crush on her. After a couple of dates many years before, Shannon had given him the old “let’s be friends” line. He was disappointed, but he never seemed to lose his interest in her. Mary had teased her incessantly over the years, suggesting that the good Dr. Wells may just be trying to wait out Shannon’s marriage.

  Of course it was harmless and even a tad advantageous from time to time. This was one of those times. Knowing that Evan didn’t have insurance, she asked John Wells if he would do her a favor and have a look at him. Not surprisingly, Wells was more than happy to help. Crushes, even innocent ones, have their perks.

  Hearing that Shannon was in the office, the doctor wrapped things up with a patient and hustled down the hall, finding the sisters both in the last examination room. “Well, hello Shannon. What a pleasant surprise,” he exclaimed with a delighted grin.

  She smiled back as he gave her a hug. “Hi John, how are you?”

  “Always better when I see you,” he said with a wink. “I take it you came in to talk about your young Mr. Nash. I had a look at him this morning.”

  Shannon wasn’t in the chattiest of moods, but she played along. “Listen John, I really appreciate your help. He doesn’t have very good insurance, and I didn’t know who else to ask.”

  “Oh no, not at all.” Wells waved it off. “Anything for you, Shannon.”

  “Well, thank you. You’re very sweet.”

  Wells beamed even wider. “I can’t disagree with you there.”

  Shannon gave him a courteous laugh. “So how did it go? Did you find anything?”

  “Actually, yes.” Wells furrowed his brows. “Did he tell you that he’d been in a serious bicycle accident?”

  “He told me about the accident, but he didn’t indicate that it was particularly bad.”

  “Well, it was,” Wells said. He was surprised when Mary slipped Evan’s file into his hands. Shannon’s sister stepped back, still enjoying the exchange.

  “Thanks Mary.” As Wells opened the file, Shannon stepped in closer to peer at it. “I think the boy had a concussion.”

  “A concussion!”

  Wells nodded. “Yes. It was a pretty hard fall. Said he had a headache for a couple days.”

  “A couple of days!” Shannon was incredulous.

  “He didn’t tell you any of this?”

  “Not this, no.” She frowned. “It seems he’s still holding back on me. How is he now?”

  “Well, that’s the good part. He appears to be fine now. No long-term symptoms, which is good, although his blood pressure was a bit high. But that’s pretty normal for new patients.”

  “So nothing else at all?”

  Wells shook his head. “Not that I could find. Other than getting shaken up by the accident, he doesn’t appear any worse for the wear. Everything else looks normal.”

  “Thank God.”

  “So,” Wells said, smiling again. He held the file underneath as he folded his arms. “On another note, I’m afraid this favor is going to cost you a lunch.”

  “Is that right?” Shannon forced a grin.

  “And this time you can’t say no.”

  “Oh, alright,” she said in playful tone. “But you need to give me a couple weeks. Things are pretty hectic.”

  “Take your time,” he said. “I know things have been tough for you. As always, if there’s anything you need, you know we’re all here for you.”

  Shannon gave his arm a sincere pat. “Thanks.”

  “Okay, I’ve got to go. Don’t forget to call me.” Wells gave her a quick hug goodbye and headed back down the hall.

  Shannon turned to her sister, who was still smiling. “You just eat that up, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Mary said, laughing. “I really, really do.”

  Shannon stood watching her with a sarcastic expression. “When you’re done laughing, I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  Mary topped off the small jar of cotton swabs and put the larger container back up in the cabinet. “Okay, okay, go ahead.”

  Shannon reached back and gently closed the door. “This is just between you and me, all right?”

  Her sister watched her curiously. “All right.”

  “It’s about that boy Evan that came in. There’s something strange going on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Shannon thought for a moment. “He’s been having these illusions lately; at least I thought they were illusions. Now I’m not so sure. But he said they all started after that bicycle accident.”

  “So you think they’re related to the accident.”

  “Yes.”

  Mary instinctively looked at the door the doctor had just walked out of. “Well, John did say he had a concussion. I suppose even with everything else looking normal, things like reflexes and pupil dilation, there could still be a lingering problem.”

  “But that’s just a possibility, not a probability.”

  “Well yeah,” Mary nodded. “Kids tend to bounce back pretty quickly from these things, and I have to say, while the kid is a little shy, he seemed fine to me. No delayed responses, no slurring, nothing. What kind of illusions is he having?”

  Shannon sighed. “That’s the weird part. They’re not strange or twisted; they’re . . . actually more like him just hanging out in his bedroom.”

  Mary gave her a puzzled look. “Hanging out in his room? That sounds more like daydreaming.”

  “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Shannon said. “I’m worried they might be something more serious, like hallucinations. Something happened the other day that I can’t explain.”

  Mary raised her eyebrows expectantly.

  “He had one of these episodes in my office on Wednesday, when I had him lying down. It only lasted a few minutes but part of it was very strange.”

  “Strange how?”

  Shannon hesitated as she thought about it. “He saw a couple of things. One was the two of us in the room, from a distance. Which isn’t that unusual,” she added. “But it’s what he said next that has me a little freaked out. He said he briefly saw the room out front and my assistant Tania eating lunch.”

  “And that’s weird because . . .”

  “Because she wasn’t eating lunch when he came into the office.”

  Mary shrugged. “So what. The kid fantasized about her eating lunch or maybe taking her to lunch. I mean come on, have you looked at Tania? I’m sure all of your male patients have spent some time thinking about her. It sounds to me like this Evan kid has a little thing for her. He is eighteen, which means he probably has more testosterone coursing through him right now than blood.”

  “I thought the same thing,” Shannon said, shaking her head. “Except for two problems; one is that he wasn’t in that picture with her. In fact, he said he saw her just sitting at her desk. And two, that was the first time he’d come into the office that early in the day. He normally comes late in the afternoon after school, which means he always talked to Emily, my other assistant who works later. In other words, Evan had never met Tania until that day.”

  “So, he had a fantasy about a pretty girl he just met.”

  Shannon shook her head. “Fantasies like that tend to be conscious thoughts, not unconscious, unless it’s a dream. And this didn’t seem to be either.”

  “Hmm.” Mary gnawed absentmindedly, though gently, on her bottom lip, thinking. “Okay, so he has his first appointment around lunchtime and walks in to see Tania at her desk with her lunch, still not a big deal.”

  Shannon shook her head again. “That’s what I’m trying to say. Tania didn’t even have her lunch when he came in. She went out to get something after he was already in my office.”

  Mary’s eyes opened a little wider.

  Shannon continued. �
��So she didn’t have a lunch until after his appointment had started, but when she did, she was eating it about the same time that Evan had his hallucination.” She paused and took a short breath. “And there’s something else.”

  “What?”

  Shannon gave her sister a confused look. “When Evan was in my office and told me what he’d seen, he never actually used the word lunch. What he said was sandwich, which was exactly what she’d gotten.”

  Mary was suddenly speechless. After a long pause she finally replied. “So . . . what do you want me to do?”

  Shannon lowered her voice. “I want you to help me with something.”

  8

  The Glendale Beeline Bus stopped at the corner of Brand and Magnolia and swung its doors open with a loud pressurized hiss. A few seconds later, Evan descended the steps and hopped down onto the concrete sidewalk.

  He squinted under the bright sun and looked around before dropping his old skateboard in front of him. It was already getting warm and his long-sleeved T-shirt was not helping, but he preferred these shirts, even in late spring, because of his slight frame.

  The bus closed its doors and drove onward as Evan pushed off and coasted around the tight corner, continuing down Magnolia Avenue. Traffic near the hospital was light on Saturday mornings since most residents headed toward the city’s outdoor mall instead, but he still had to zigzag around a few cars as they pulled out.

  He suddenly stopped and jumped to the side as a gold-colored Mercedes Benz roared out of a long driveway, nearly hitting him. When it lurched to a stop, Evan saw two young teenagers laughing at him. He recognized both from school. The passenger leaned out the window, peering down at the old wooden skateboard. He turned and said something to the driver, who snickered loudly. With a final smirk, they hit the gas and peeled out into the street.

  As Evan watched them speed away, he heard a sound behind him and turned to see a small, yapping dog run after the car. Behind the dog stood a young girl with an empty hand outstretched. A look of panic covered her face as the small terrier ran after the car, headed for the busy street.

 

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