by Nancy Adams
“I don't know” was his brief answer. “I’m gonna call Charlie and have his mom check if I left it in the lot. I think I did, but I’m not sure.”
“Have you spoken with your father yet?”
“Not with Dad, but I have with Holman. They’re pissed. I broke curfew, so I’m gonna get shit when I get back. I gotta call Dad soon, though, and I’m dreading it. I think I’ll postpone it for another couple of hours. My head’s still in a mess.”
“Oh, Josh,” I softly exclaimed. “You have to be more on your guard. What do you think your father will say?”
“I’m not sure. Probably that this is my last chance. That anymore slipups and I’m finished. Or I could find my bags already packed outside the apartment.”
“Let’s hope not.”
“Ay to that.”
I sat musing for a second or two, a light relief pervading through me. I was simply glad that he was okay. It was a minor blip, and I hoped his father would see it that way too.
“Well, I’m just happy you’re alive,” I said.
“I am sorry, you know,” he put back to me.
“What do you mean?”
“For worrying you and making you doubt me.”
“I never doubted you.”
“Come on, Sarah! You can admit that when I didn’t answer your three calls this morning you were a little worried.”
“I was,” I did admit.
“So I’m sorry for that.”
The gentle thread of a smile eclipsed my lips.
“You know I’m proud of you,” I couldn’t help saying, urged on by a spark of elation.
“Even though I screwed up last night?”
“Even though you did. At least you sound generally regretful of it.”
“I am.”
“And it won’t happen again?”
“No. If I ever see Terry or Kane outside Charlie’s again, I’ll ignore them.”
“You won’t start trouble with them?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you almost hit Terry this morning.”
“Very nearly. I grabbed ahold of him and I wanted to so bad—I won’t deny that. But then something inside me made me let him go and just leave. Two months ago I would have smashed his face in.”
“Two months ago you would have probably taken the drugs yourself,” I couldn’t help remarking.
“You’re dead right on that” was what he stated back. “At least something’s changed.”
“Do you forgive them?”
“Who? Terry and Kane?”
“Who else?”
He went silent for a little while, before answering that he did.
“I forgive them,” he continued, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll be going for any more drinks with them.”
I smiled, inwardly as well as outwardly, the bright gleam opening up a fissure of light in my heart.
“Then this was a test and nothing more,” I pronounced to him.
“But I failed. I went with them. I should have known they’d try something. We used to do it all the time. Invite a guy out for a couple of drinks and then spike him when he went to the bathroom. I should’ve known that the same rules apply to me too.”
“But you’re repenting now, and you didn’t continue. Take your guilt as a sign of hope.”
There was another brief moment of silence, and I could somehow tell that he was beaming a smile on the other end.
“You really are one of a kind,” he finally said. “One of a kind.”
This pleased me no end to hear, and I felt much better than I had before the phone call.
“Look, I’ll speak to you later tonight,” he went on. “I’m almost at the apartment block now.”
“Okay. Be safe, Josh. And good luck with your dad.”
“Thanks, Sarah. I’ll call you later this evening when I’ve smoothed it all over.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye-bye.”
The phone went dead and I sighed a little, a gentle wind passing through the rustling leaves of my heart. I was relieved, that was for sure, but I was still concerned slightly with his relapse, no matter how accidental it may have been. It had still happened, and my eyes returned to the endless sky out the window as I considered everything. Then, as if he’d smelled my pensiveness, Karl was back at my door. He didn’t bother knocking this time and simply walked in.
“Look,” he began the moment he was in front of me, “I was unfair earlier on. Gary’s gonna be finished with the Coleridge deposition in a half hour, so I’ll put him on this with you for the rest of the day.”
I glanced over at him. His face was much softer than before, and he couldn’t meet me with his wandering eyes, his hands deep in his pockets, leg jittering underneath.
“Thank you,” I said.
He went to leave, but I called him back.
“You know we can still be friends, Karl,” I said frankly.
“I know,” he muttered. And then, as if he had to reassure himself, he repeated, “I know.”
“And, also, I’ve been meaning to apologize. I said a really bad thing to you the other week.”
“What was that?”
“It was when you came around to my house and we spoke in the kitchen.”
“Oh, then. A lot was said. You needn’t worry about it.”
“But I should have never called you a lost cause. It was wrong of me. You weren’t a lost cause. Those three months were special.”
At this last statement, his eyes stopped wandering and fixed hawkishly on me. I saw that glinting hope in his eyes, hope I couldn’t allow to live.
“But it was never supposed to be,” I continued, and his face dropped the instant I said it. “It was three months in which I was closer to a man than I had ever been before. You will always hold a place in my heart, but it will never be the place you want it to be.”
A burst of anger twitched and twisted his facial features.
“A place in your heart?” he let out indignantly. “Well, you’ll burn forever in mine.”
And with that, he left, and our friendship was exactly back to where it was only a moment ago, burning in the furnace of his broken heart. I’d attempted to apologize for my actions of the other week, and yet I’d still managed to anger him. I couldn’t win. That was clear. So I simply craned my head down to the desk and continued going through the small rainforest of paperwork, glad that at least I had something to take my mind off it all.
JOSH
The elevator ride up to the apartment felt like it went on forever. Crammed like a spider into the corner of the box, I ached with the lingering effects of the booze and drugs. The moment the doors opened, I was presented with the poker-faced figure of Holman, arms behind his back, obviously waiting for me.
“Hey,” I said weakly as I folded myself out from my corner.
“You haven’t called your dad yet” was his firm answer to this.
“Like I told you, I wanted to freshen up before I went through that.”
“And I told you to call him immediately.”
“Okay, I’ll do it now.”
He struck his hand out and stated, “Then hand me the phone and I’ll dial the number.”
“Ugh!” I grunted with a shrug and did as he said.
He dialed my father and placed the phone to his ear.
“Andrew,” he said after a short while, “it’s Holman. The kid’s here at the apartment with me. He’s just gotten in.” There was a short pause while my father no doubt asked about my condition. “He’s only got one shoe, and his jacket is slightly torn. Okay, I’ll hand you over.”
He passed me the phone, and I cringed as I took it, the walls of the hallway growing rapidly around me.
“Dad?” I meekly uttered into the phone.
“You little prick” was the first thing his spleen-filled voice said to me. “Only yesterday you sat in my study, looked me in the eye, and said it was different this time.”
“Please, Dad, liste
n—”
But he cut me off. “You wanted to know if I was following you before. Well, I told you the truth, I wasn’t. Now you’ll be watched twenty-four seven. You are not to even leave the house unless you have permission from Holman or myself. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied obsequiously.
In truth, I was willing to accept this punishment more than anything. For one, it protected me. Not so much from my drink-spiking so-called friends, as you may believe, but actually from myself. Looking back at last night, a part of me had reacted gleefully the second I’d caught sight of Terry and Kane outside the elevator. A small part, indeed, but one still with influence in my head. It had whispered devilishly from the darkness and rejoiced in the debauched possibilities that the night now offered. That urge hadn’t been present all these past two months, not until I saw their faces, associated so clearly with former depravities. And it was that part of me that had instantly forgiven them the moment I came up on the drugs—because, far from being angered by the ruse, it had fully wanted this self-destructive liberty.
“You agree with these conditions?” my father asked.
“Of course.”
“You don’t fart from now on unless given permission, Josh. One more fuckup like this and you’re out. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you know what I mean by out, don’t you?”
“You’ll leave me with nothing.”
“I’ll leave you with less than nothing. You’ll leave my house a bum in the truest sense of the word. You’ll have absolutely nothing for as long as you walk this earth. My last will and testament will place everything in the hands of charities and corporate portfolios. I’ll give it all away to my shareholders before I allow a penny to fall into your hands. You won’t even have the diabolical chance of killing me to get to the money—because my death will bring you nothing but more misery.”
“I would never consider that,” I felt the need to say, horrified that my own father could even consider me capable of parricide.
“You’ll get sick out there and you’ll die, Josh,” he ranted on. “A boy like you won’t last a fucking second before he’s begging for help. And trust me, son, no matter how hard you cry and beg out there, no one will listen. Not me. Not your old friends. Not this girl of yours. Not people who pass you in the streets. Not God. No one will listen to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I hope so. I really do. For your sake.”
He put the phone down, and a snake slithered up my fragile spine. I really wanted to change. I really regretted last night. I really wanted to have my father look at me one day and not automatically frown. Actually look at me for once in my entire life and display the dazzling fire of pride within his eyes, all their former coldness dissolved by me. By me, for God’s sake! Me, his son, his only flesh and blood upon this earth, melting away all his former malevolence, being taken in his arms and feeling all that hardness soften from my touch. From a son’s touch. I had felt something twinge in my heart yesterday as I’d stood in his study and he’d talked about me joining the business. I’d felt a flush of hope lying underneath the waters of his voice. Hope that he would one day look upon me with that most glorious gift a father can ever receive: pride in his child.
Now it was Holman’s turn, and the second I’d slid my phone back in my pocket, he started:
“Did you understand what he said?”
“Yes” was my brief reply.
“Then you know that you have to end it with Sarah.”
This hit my gut harder than last night’s gnawing effects, and I reeled from the blow.
“Why?” I let out, an angry trepidation dilating in me.
“Because if he finds out, he’ll order you to drop her, and if you don’t, he’ll throw you onto the street like he said.”
“But it’s mostly because of her that I’m a better person now. It’s because of her that last night hasn’t represented every night since I’ve been out. She’s really helping me, Holman. Surely you can see that?”
My voice had become hoarse with emotion by the end as I’d pleaded with him.
“But it’s the history, kid,” Holman stated. “And now he's gonna have us all keeping a tight eye on you. He’s gonna know who she is very soon. He’ll have you followed to her house, and he’ll check it out. Then boom! Roy Dillinger.”
“But he doesn’t have to find out who she really is. You haven’t told him her name, have you?”
“He asked before if I knew anything, and I told him that I knew her name was Sarah but that I didn’t know her surname and hadn’t checked her out fully. Thankfully, he told me to leave it. But he’s gonna ask now.”
“Then lie to him again,” I begged Holman. “For me.”
Holman chewed his lip for several seconds, weighing it all up.
“You’re gonna cost me my head,” he said. “Let’s go elsewhere.”
We walked out of the hallway to my bedroom and stepped inside. Holman closed the door behind.
“From now on,” he began the moment we were alone, “you don’t go to her house. You’ll be tracked by GPS on all cars. That’s even if you’re actually allowed out. If you are, you both meet at a neutral venue or someone else’s house. You also give her a fake name. I’ll find another Sarah in the city who’s of similar age and description. I’ll hand your father those records with Sarah’s ID photo scanned on there. He won’t check up on it personally, so it should work. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“That you’ll help me,” I said, grinning all over.
“That I’ll risk my job,” he put to me. “Let me go to work on it, and I’ll let you know what her new surname is. Also, you need to let her know of all of this, so that when she visits the house, she’ll keep up the act. As well as that, stop calling her on your phone.”
“Why?”
“Because your father has it cloned. Meaning he can see and hear everything you can. If he investigates the numbers he sees most on it—and from now on he will—then he’ll check her number. If he does that, he’ll see that it’s registered in the name of Dillinger. You need to buy yourself a pay-as-you-go cheap phone, nothing smart. Tell Sarah to do the same. That way you can talk without your father listening in. But still use your phone occasionally, so he doesn’t suspect anything.”
I slowly brought my phone out of my pocket and gave it a strange look.
“Does he always listen in on me?” I muttered, gazing down at it.
“Only when you give him reason to. And last night you gave him reason. The guy was actually looking forward to seeing you get back. He waited up until midnight. Wanted to say goodbye before he left for New York. He looked mighty pissed when he couldn’t get ahold of you. Pissed and disappointed.”
“Look, I’ll do my best with Dad, smooth it over. If I stay at home all the time studying and only go out once or twice a week, he’ll be cool. But I gotta see Sarah. And that means that she needs to come here.”
“Then you have to follow my instructions to the letter. I’ll get you her new name in about an hour. Your father hasn’t asked yet, but I feel he will. When he does, I’ll give him the other details.”
“Thanks, Holman,” I said to him warmly. “You’ve always been a good guy to me.”
“I still think you’re fucking dumb, kid. And now I’m just as dumb for covering for you. It’s a dangerous game we’re playing. But, heck, you’re in love, and this Sarah girl does appear to have a positive effect on you, so fuck it!”
“Thank you,” I said softly, leaning forward and hugging the old man.
His own bulky arms gradually found their way around me, and we embraced amiably. I loved this man in my arms. Loved him as a son loves a father. Looked up to him as such. He was my one role model. My one male figure. Sure, in my own way, I loved my father. He’d never been particularly cruel to me, cold but never overly so to the point of abuse. But still, my love for my father shriveled in comparison fo
r that which I felt for the man I now held within my arms. We had a covenant, he and I, and his help with Sarah was just the latest clandestine action we’d performed behind my father’s back during the many years of my lifelong association with him.
There was one other thing I wished to know from him, however. And when we let go of one another, I felt impelled to ask:
“What happened between Dad and Roy Dillinger?”
He sighed and gently shook his head.
“I’ll help you out,” he said, “but I can never tell you even one secret of your father’s. Perhaps one day he’ll tell you himself. I hope when he does, it doesn't hurt you too bad.”
I felt a stone rattle in the tin can of my heart.
“What could hurt me ‘too bad’?” I wanted to know.
“That’s all, kid. Let’s keep your romance alive for the moment and leave off from the past for today.”
The gentle candle of a crooked smile flickered on my lips, and I let it be.
“Of course,” I said to him.
“Right, I’ll go get your girl her new surname,” he said before leaving the room.
I sat myself down on the bed after that and fell into thought. I began to wonder, as I sometimes did, where I’d be today if it wasn't for the warmth of Holman.
Let me give you an example.
Four years ago, he came and found me when I was at my worst. On the day that was supposed to be Heather’s twenty-first birthday, I’d run away from college and managed to steal several tens of thousands of dollars from my father, as well as some jewelry from one of his houses. I went down to Los Angeles and took some small apartment in Englewood of all places. From there I went into total overdrive. I got involved in crystal meth, which is the worst drug that was ever formulated, from effects to addiction, all the way through to the way it eats your body and brain like the worst debilitating disease. The guy who invented it is up there with the inventor of the atomic bomb and those spirited scientists who invent new forms of chemical and biological weapons. Nothing good comes from the invention, only chaos, pain, and end. The time I was on that terrible shit, I never slept. I was constantly high and my body constantly beaten into submission by a relentless cycle of a thousand highs, all my cells ramped to full power by the indefatigable strength of the terrible drug that forced me to forever spend my life in some kind of whirring storm of indecency.