Lottery

by Kimberly Shursen

  “Did they see anything yet?” Alvaraz asked.

  “Nothing. I’m waiting to hear back from the guys on the boat,” he stated.

  “What can I do?” Alvaraz asked.

  Jenee could feel Alvaraz’s tension. Neither one of them had slept since Ling had been taken.

  “Anything we should know about O’Toole?” he asked.

  Alvaraz looked to Jenee. “Yes, you need to be cautious.”

  “Caleb’s crazy.” Jenee sank back in her chair.

  “Hold on,” he told Alvaraz and put her on hold.

  Jenee held her breath through the long seconds of silence, hoping he would come back on the phone and say they’d found Ling.

  “Just got a call,” the man told her when he came back on the phone.

  “Did they see something?”

  “I’ll have to get back to you. Couldn’t make out what he was saying for sure.”

  “Wait,” Alvaraz shouted, “just tell me if they saw anything.” When there was no answer, she clicked the phone off.

  Jenee sat up straight, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Do you think they found them?”

  Alvaraz shook her head. “I have no idea. It could be another boat or—”

  “Damn it,” Jenee shouted and stood. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she looked up. “For God’s sake, please help her!” She crumpled to the floor, sobbing. “Please don’t let Ling die.”

  Alvaraz walked to her. Kneeling beside her, the detective put an arm around Jenee’s shoulder. “I know this is hard.”

  Crying uncontrollably, Jenee shook her head. “God has to help her. He can’t let her die.”

  “Why don’t you call your husband?” Alvaraz said empathetically. “You need him right now.”

  “What if my phone rings?”

  “I’ll get it. At this point, whether it’s Ling or Caleb, I need to intervene.” The detective offered Jenee a hand and helped her stand. Jenee wrapped her arms around herself, turned, and walked out of the kitchen.

  Slowly stumbling up the stairs, Jenee knew she should go see Mei, but right now all she wanted was to hear Justin’s voice. Her legs felt heavy, and when she reached the second floor landing, she made her way down the hall and into the master suite.

  Ling’s slippers were by the bed. On top of the dresser were pictures of Ling holding Sammy on the day he was born, and another of a smiling Caleb. Anger curdled inside of her, and she picked up the picture of Caleb, and hurled it across the room; the frame and glass shattering when it hit the wall. “How could you do this, you sick son-of-a-bitch?” she screamed. She sat down on the edge of the bed.

  Sniveling, she took out the phone the detective had given her to use and dialed.

  “Jenee?” Justin answered on the first ring.

  “Oh, God, Justin,” she cried. “I don’t know if Ling’s going to make it.”

  Justin was quiet.

  “Justin?”

  “I’m here,” he said calmly.

  “I don’t know what to do. I just keep trying to think—”

  “Positively.”

  He knew her so well.

  “My flights already booked,” he told her. “I’ll be there in a few hours.”

  She swiped the tears off her cheeks. “What about the kids?”

  “With your mom.”

  “Oh, God, Justin, I feel so helpless.”

  “You know what to do,” Justin told her. She heard a door open, and then close, and knew he was getting into his truck.

  “Pray,” she said faintly.

  “Hang in there, honey, I’ll be there soon.”

  Jenee was so exhausted, it felt like an out-of-body experience as she walked down the hallway and up to the third floor. In the upstairs suite, she went into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The last twenty-four hours had taken its toll.

  Although it was almost one in the morning, she needed to tell Mei what was going on. Halfway down the stairs, when she heard a voice on the speaker phone, she stopped abruptly.

  “I understand.” She heard Alvaraz say.

  Jenee bolted down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen.

  “We’ll give it another few minutes, and then we’ll have to pull our guys in,” the male voice boomed through the speaker.

  “What’s going on?” Jenee asked.

  Alvaraz put up her hand silencing Jenee. “No sign of anything?” the detective asked.

  “No, nothing,” the voice answered.

  “They can’t give up,” Jenee shouted, rushing toward Alvaraz.

  “What about a copter?” Alvaraz asked.

  “Too dangerous,” he said.

  Alvaraz glanced at Jenee. “They don’t have a choice,” Alvaraz whispered to Jenee.

  “Please.”

  Still holding the phone, Alvaraz shook her head and looked away.

  Jenee took hold of the detective’s shoulder and turned her around. “I’m asking you to beg them not to give up.”

  ing took the lighter out of her back pocket. The rain beating against the tarp hurt her ears. On her knees, she braced her back against a bench. The lighter in one hand, she put one of the flares in her injured hand, praying it would light.

  Suddenly, an ear-splitting explosion … Ling cowered. “Oh, dear Jesus.” Shielding her head with her hands, she ducked her head under the deep pool of water that had accumulated in the bottom of the boat and held her breath.

  A few seconds later, she brought her head up, gasped and swiped off her face. Her eyes darting in every direction, she saw the tarp had been ripped off.

  She rose to her knees, steadied herself, and flicked the button on the lighter with a shaky thumb, but no flame appeared. “Come on,” she pleaded and pressed the switch rapidly over and over again, until her thumb was numb.

  A loud, low growl of thunder boomed around her. “God damn it.” Enraged, she tossed the lighter and flare into the water.

  There had to be something on the boat Ling could use to let the Coast Guard know where she was. She turned around and tried to pry open a bench, but the weight of the torrential downpour made it impossible to take off.

  She clenched her teeth as she pulled using all the strength she had left. “Arrrggh,” she let out, and the top flew off, the wind taking it flying out to sea.

  Reaching inside, she tossed out a case of medical supplies; an oar; a few blankets. Nothing that would help anyone find her.

  Walking on her knees, she made her way to the next bench. The will to see her children giving her strength, it didn’t take as long to pull off the second top. Reaching inside, she clasped her hand around something and pulled it out. A large flashlight.

  She found a button on the side, switched it on, and a beam soared up through the rain and into the dark skies. Laughing and crying at the same time, she clasped it to her chest reverently. “Thank you.”

  Working her way back to the cockpit, she stumbled her way to between the wheel and driver’s seat. Ling leaned against the side of the boat and held the flashlight over her head. She turned around slowly so as not to lose her balance. Someone had to be out there.

  “Come on, come on,” she whispered. She squinted through the darkness and sheets of rain. What was that she saw? A dim light … a flicker? Oh my God. They’d found her. Swiping the water out of her eyes, she almost forgot about the pain that racked her body.

  Standing on her tiptoes, she held the flashlight up, and moved it back and forth as fast as she could. When she saw the light growing stronger, Ling stood on her tiptoes, and raised the flashlight up higher. “Here … here!” she screamed. “Help!”

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Caleb’s voice took her breath away. “You fucking bitch!” The gun in his hand, he weaved toward her.

  “Caleb O’Toole,” a voice boomed in the distance.

  Ling turned toward the voice.

  “Give yourself up!”

  “Who the hell is that?” he spat.

  Caleb’s glare
sent shivers down her spine. There was no doubt he was going to kill her. The Coast Guard was too late. Holding onto the dashboard for support, Ling toppled back and forth with each violent rock.

  “Whatha fuck did ya do?” Caleb slurred.

  “We need help!” she shouted over the piercing sound of the wind. Petrified, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the beam of light getting brighter.

  “Help us?” He staggered toward her. Almost falling, he grasped the back of the driver’s seat, still pointing the gun at her. “You betrayed me.”

  His eyes were crazed again; the driver’s seat the only thing between them.

  “No one’s going to save you,” Caleb told her. “Now, come here!” he ordered.

  She hugged the flashlight. “I can’t unless I crawl over the seat.”

  “Then do it, bitch.”

  Waves crashed over them, lightning and thunder crackled around them, fear and anger raged a battle inside Ling as she brought one knee up on the seat. Slowly, she brought her other knee up.

  “Before we both die out here, you and I are going to have a little chat,” Caleb said, his mouth settling into a sardonic grin.

  She turned slightly toward the ocean and saw an enormous wave coming. Ling knew what she had to do. Just as the barricade of water started to crest, Ling dropped the flashlight, jumped down, and hurled herself over the side.

  “Ling,” she heard faintly, as the unyielding waves ravaged her. Thrashing to keep her head above water, she prayed the Coast Guard had seen her go overboard. If she could just keep going a little longer … maybe someone would find her.

  The raging abyss tried to swallow her as she gasped for air whenever the skyscraper waves allowed.

  The tumultuous water turning her in every direction, Ling didn’t know if she was going toward the Coast Guard or away. Struggling harder and harder against the immense pressure of the raging sea, her vision started to blur. Just a little further … please God … just a little.

  Freezing cold, her muscles started to cramp. She tried to make her legs and feet work, but they wouldn’t move. Dad … please ….”

  She raised an arm up as far as she could, the waves taking her under over and over again. She opened her mouth to scream, but water poured down her throat and into her lungs.

  Her chest ablaze, fighting to catch a breath of air, she saw something. Daddy? Her father was here; a soft glow surrounding his face. She could feel his calm presence, assuring Ling everything was going to be all right.

  Keeping her eyes locked on her father’s, Ling felt tired … so very, very tired. Her legs and arms relaxed and a peace washed over her.

  With her father beside her, their eyes locked, he took her hand in his. Together, they sank deeper and deeper together, cradled in the wrath of the raging sea.

  ing’s eyes hurt when she tried to open them. Where was she? She patted around her. When she felt the mattress, she tried to sit up.

  Panicked, she looked around. Was she on the boat? Was Caleb here? Her heart pounding, she started to breathe again when she noticed the monitor quietly beeping above her.

  She tried to lift her arm, but it hurt too much. She looked down and saw the cast. She was in a hospital. Her mind was fuzzy. Ling closed her eyes briefly, trying to remember what had happened. The first thing that came to mind was her father’s face. Ling knew he’d played a part in saving her life.

  She rolled her head toward the window and saw Jenee asleep on a small couch. In spite of the fact that Ling was in pain, she’d never been so happy to see someone.

  “Hey,” Ling said weakly. She coughed to get the frog out of her throat. “Jenee?”

  Jenee’s eyes popped open and she sat up. “Ling.” Jenee stood and walked to the bed. “You’re awake.”

  “I’m alive is what I can’t believe.’ She coughed again, and it felt as if her ribs would explode. “What happened?” She held out her hand to Jenee.

  Jenee found a chair and pulled it up to the side of the bed. She sat down, and took Ling’s hand in hers. Jenee looked exhausted; her eyes swollen; her face pale.

  “The Coast Guard found you.” Jenee smiled and squeezed Ling’s hand gently. “Thank God.”

  “The last thing I saw was my dad’s face.” Ling linked back tears. “That’s all I can remember.”

  Jenee leaned toward Ling. “You saw your dad?”

  Ling nodded, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I think he saved me.”

  “How you got anywhere with a broken arm and a concussion, I’ll never know.”

  Ling glanced at her cast, starting to remember what had happened. “I’ve never been so scared.” She wasn’t ready to talk about everything yet. “How long have I been here?”

  “Two days.”

  “Two days?” Ling asked, confused. “Have I been asleep that long?”

  J enee nodded. “It was touch and go for a while.”

  “Where am I?”

  “Los Angeles,” Jenee told her. “Justin and I drove down.”

  “Justin’s here?”

  “At the hotel. I wanted to stay until I knew you were okay. We’ll take you back to San Francisco as soon as your doctor says it’s okay.”

  “You’re awake,” a young nurse said as she waltzed into the room. She glanced up at the monitor. “Vitals look good.”

  “Can I go home today?” Ling asked. “I want to see my children.” She almost broke down thinking about seeing Ahna and Sammy. “And my mom.”

  “Your doctor will be in shortly.” The nurse straightened the covers on the bed. “I’m just glad you’re still with us.” She smiled at Ling. “I don’t know how you made it out of that hurricane.”

  Everything was starting to come back—Caleb pointing the gun at her—the storm twisting and tossing her—feeling herself let go when she saw her father.

  Jenee laid her hand on Ling’s arm. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “You hungry?” the nurse asked. “Juice, water … some broth, maybe?”

  “Maybe later,” Ling said. All she wanted to do was go home.

  “Okay,” the nurse said, as she walked toward the door. “If you need me, just push your button.” She stopped and turned around. “You have a good friend here.” She glanced at Jenee. “She hasn’t left your side.”

  Ling looked at Jenee. “I know.”

  Jenee bowed her head. “You would have done the same for me.”

  “How’s Mom doing?” Ling asked after the nurse left.

  “You know your mom. She’s a strong lady.”

  “I know. She must have been so scared.” Ling yawned.

  Jenee stood. “Why don’t I let you get some sleep and I’ll come back later.” She pushed the chair back in place. “After the doctor’s been here.”

  “Wait. What about Caleb?”

  Jenee looked away. “I’ll fill you in on all the details later.” She started to leave.

  “Jenee … please,” Ling pleaded.

  Jenee turned back around. “It’s just that … maybe it would be better if you got a little more sleep before we talk.”

  Ling raised her head up off the pillow. She hoped Jenee wasn’t going to tell her Caleb had gotten away. “I won’t be able to rest until you tell me where Caleb is.”

  Jenee slowly walked back to the bed, sat down on the side of the bed, and laced her fingers together.

  Ling’s muscles tightened. “What is it?”

  “Caleb.”

  “What about him?” Ling’s heartbeat sped up. “He’s alright, isn’t he?”

  Jenee looked at Ling. “No.”

  “Oh, God.” She put her hand over her pounding head. “Did the boat capsize? They found him, right?” She raised her head up off the pillow. “Is he here? In the hospital?”

  “I don’t know how to—”

  “Just tell me.”

  “He … Caleb … he … he shot himself.”

  Jenee’s words left Ling speechless. “But he’s okay?”

 
; Jenee put her hand on Ling’s leg. “He’s gone, honey.”

  “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

  “There was only one boat and the Coast Guard needed to get you to a hospital.”

  “And?”

  “They … the men on the Coast Guard heard a gun go off,” Jenee told Ling.

  Ling stared at Jenee, her mind racing through a million scenarios.

  “When they found the yacht”—Jenee cleared her throat and looked down—“there was a lot of blood.”

  Ling laid her head back down on the pillow, silent tears flowing from her face. “Oh, God, please don’t tell me Caleb is dead,” she said. “I didn’t want Caleb to die. I wanted him to get help.”

  “Caleb was very sick,” Jenee said calmly. “Honey, he was going to kill you.”

  “I know,” Ling said. “But Caleb wasn’t always this way. He needed help.” Ling turned toward Jenee. “Is he … ”

  Jenee nodded. “Yes. The Coast Guard said with the winds being almost ninety-five miles an hour, they highly doubted they’d ever find his body. They found the gun. It had been fired.”

  “But Caleb wasn’t onboard?”

  “They also found traces of his blood on the side of the boat. He must’ve fallen overboard.”

  “Weber,” Ling whispered, pulled out a tissue from the box on the bedside table and wiped her eyes.

  “Weber?”

  “He thought a guy named Jack Weber was talking to him. Telling him what to do.”

  Jenee changed positions.

  “I met Jack Weber once. Caleb told me he could see him.” She drew in a breath. “He said Weber told him to kill me.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Jenee said with tears in her eyes. “I’m just grateful you’re alive. Is there anything I can get you?”

  Ling shook her head. “I just want to go home.”

  Jenee stood, bent over and cupped Ling’s cheeks in her hands. “You’ll get through this. We’ll do it together.”

  It had taken months before Ling received Caleb’s death certificate. Usually it took seven years for someone to be declared legally dead if a body wasn’t found, but the men from the Coast Guard who’d rescued Ling had offered evidence that there was no way Caleb O’Toole could have survived the hurricane, especially since he’d shot himself.