Tribe

by R. D. Zimmerman

  He slipped the credit card into the space between the door and the lock and hit a solid piece of metal. Sliding the credit card upward, he hit something else, pressed, but nothing moved. No, he realized, this was a reinforced lock, there was no way in hell this was going to work, no way… .

  Suddenly there was a figure standing nearby, saying, “Zeb?”

  Startled, he dropped the credit card, felt himself tumbling to the side, and clutched his daughter. Above him stood a woman in a white uniform.

  “What are you doing?” demanded Brenda, the nurse whom he'd met not more than three hours earlier.

  “I…I…”

  “You were trying to break in there, weren't you? What are you after, drugs?” When he started to get up, she quickly backed away. “That's what it is, isn't it? That's what you were after before too, right? You didn't want to clean in there, you wanted to steal something. God, I'm going to call security!”

  “Wait!” he shouted as she turned away. “Wait, Brenda, I can explain!”

  “Like hell you can.”

  “Brenda!”

  His plea was so desperate that she hesitated and looked back at him.

  “You don't understand,” he called after her. “This…this is my daughter. She's sick. She's sick and she needs medicine and I don't have any money.”

  18

  “You saw the note, Todd,” said Janice flatly, now seated on her living room couch, a blanket draped over her shoulders, both hands clutching a mug of steaming coffee. “We weren't supposed to call the police.”

  “I didn't call the cops. I called Rawlins, that's all.”

  “He is the police.”

  “No, he's my boyfriend. And your friend too, for that matter. He's family, Janice.”

  “I just want to do what they say. I…I don't want anyone to get hurt. I don't want to complicate things.”

  “It's too late for that,” said Todd as he began to pace in front of the four arching windows of her living room. “What do you call these bruises on my side or those marks on your wrists?”

  “Todd—the baby. I…I just don't want anything to happen to her, I don't know what I'll—”

  “What the hell are you saying? She's already been kidnapped.” He shook his head, trying to make sense of this all. “Or maybe I should say she's been rekidnapped. I don't get any of this.” “I just hope she's okay, that he hasn't already hurt her.”

  Reminded of the blood they'd found in the snow, he said, “Me too.”

  Todd looked out one of the windows, but saw nothing. Rawlins was on his way, but who knew how long it'd take in this storm. And who knew what the hell they'd do after he got here. Touching the painful bruises on his side, Todd glanced anxiously about the living room with its tall, beamed ceiling. He shuffled across the light brown carpeting, stopped near an overstuffed chair. What a mess. Why the hell had she kept this from him?

  “Janice, I can't believe you didn't tell me about any of this,” he said, unable to hide the anger in his voice. “I mean—”

  “That's what I wanted to talk about tonight.”

  “Well, I wish you'd told me earlier, like sometime within the last decade or two.” He shook his head, clenched the back of his head with his right hand. “We're talking about something that happened—what was it—over twenty years ago.”

  “It's just so complicated.”

  “Obviously.”

  “But Todd—”

  “Janice, I might not only have fathered your kid, but I'm also one of your best friends, aren't I?”

  “Of course you are, but…but I couldn't tell you back then. I couldn't tell anyone. You just don't understand.”

  “No, I guess I don't.”

  “Please,” she said, pulling the blanket tight around her and closing her eyes, “I can't talk about it now.”

  “You can't talk about it now? Now? You secretly had a child when we were in college and you never told me that I might be his father—and you don't want to fucking talk about it? And now that kid's daughter has been kidnapped, and what, we're supposed to sit around a fire and do a crossword puzzle or something? Gee, doesn't that sound nice and fun?” He slapped his forehead with his right hand. “What's happened to you, Janice? Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind?”

  “ Todd— ”

  “Here I thought you were so open and honest, the epitome of self-awareness and integrity,” he said, raising his hands, “but you're nothing more than…than the original closet case, are you?”

  “Stop it!” she demanded, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “Why, is there something else? Don't tell me you've got more skeletons in there? Twins maybe? Or perhaps I begot triplets? And if I am the chief, just tell me, how big is my tribe?”

  “Shut up!” she shouted.

  “Oh, you mean I'm supposed to just forget that I might have reproduced and my genes are out there running around?”

  “Oh, Todd,” she sobbed. “Please, not now. We'll talk about it later—I'll tell you everything. I want to, I need to, but I just can't get into it right now.” A Kleenex to her eyes, she glanced toward the front windows. “If anything happens to that child I'll kill myself.”

  Todd turned around, felt a stab of pain in his side, and stared outside into the dark night. Yes, the baby.

  “Of course,” he muttered.

  Janice's granddaughter was out there. His granddaughter as well? He shook his head, for it was a loop and a twist he just couldn't make, couldn't comprehend. A few hours ago he'd been thinking he was glad he didn't have kids, and now he might not only have a son but a granddaughter as well. It was possible, wasn't it? Of course, and he shook his head, for he was just so confused. None of this made any sense.

  “You didn't really go to Europe, did you?” he asked.

  She looked up, her eyes red and swollen. “What?”

  “Back in college. What was it, our junior year? You were supposed to have gone to France to study. Aix-en-Provence— something like that. And then Greece too, wasn't it? But you never went, did you? You didn't even leave the country, did you?”

  “No.”

  “You took off that semester to have a baby.”

  She nodded. “Right.”

  “When did you have him?”

  “August. He was a few weeks early.”

  “And then you gave him up for adoption?”

  She stared at her lap. “Yes.”

  “You gave him up, and then by fall you were back in school as if nothing had happened. You came back all smiles, telling everyone that you'd been off gallivanting around Europe for seven or eight months. Oh, and that you were first and foremost a dyke.”

  She sat there in silence, his words like daggers of guilt and shame cutting at her, slicing, ripping, tearing. Todd watched her, saw those long-concealed events all finally boil to the surface and burn across her face.

  Her voice barely audible, she said, “You…you don't have any idea what I was going through, how hard it was, how awful.”

  He turned away, walked across the room, and stopped next to a bookcase. That period of his life was coming into true focus. It was as if he'd finally found the correct pair of glasses to look back through time and he was finally seeing it clearly, able to make sense of what had happened and why.

  “We dated that fall before you left. We started going out in September, and we were little boyfriend and girlfriend for a while there. It was pretty fun too.”

  “Todd, that was so long ago.”

  But he couldn't stop himself. “We made it almost all the way to Christmas break, of course. You remember, don't you? There was the Christmas party at your sorority. And then we slipped upstairs and did it. Screwed, if you know what I mean. Fucked.”

  “Todd, stop it, would you? You're being a real asshole.”

  “I went up to your room. It was right before Christmas break, just a day or two. I still think of that night every time I hear Carly Simon. God, I was so scared. And…and then we crawled into bed and
it just sort of happened. After that we hardly saw each other.”

  “Right,” she agreed sadly.

  The question popped out of his mouth. “So if I'm not the father of your kid, who is?”

  “Oh, shit, Todd.”

  “Were you seeing someone else?”

  “God, that sounds so suburban, so middle-class.”

  “Well, I want to know.”

  “Forget it.”

  “But you were screwing around on me, weren't you?”

  “I can't believe this conversation—a queen and a dyke talking about cheating on each other!”

  “Janice, we were dating at the time. I really liked you. I—”

  Suddenly she was on her feet, her fury erupting seemingly out of nowhere, and her finger pointing at him. “How dare you!”

  “How dare I what?”

  “Todd, you asshole, how dare you talk to me about cheating! For your information I went out West right after I left Northwestern, and I did have sex with some guy a couple of days after we did,” she said. “But would you please stop pretending to be the pure one?”

  Oh, Christ, he thought, turning away. She knows.

  “God, when it comes right down to it, you're just another fucking guy with his own fucking double standards. It must be testosterone. You get a dose of that stuff and you think you can put your dick anywhere you want and it doesn't matter, there aren't any consequences.” She shook her head. “You were screwing around too, and don't tell me you weren't!”

  He hesitated and then muttered, “So you know about—”

  “Pat?” she said with great emphasis as she glared at Todd. “Sure I do. I know that you two guys had sex a few times while we were dating. Which explains a lot, namely why you were scared to screw me.”

  “Shit…”

  Todd turned away, shaking his head in shame. He tried to say something, but his mouth was so dry he couldn't speak.

  He cleared his throat. “I'm sorry, Janice. I…I…”

  “Oh, so you have a complicated story too?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Nice and sordid, but you don't want to talk about it tonight, right?” she taunted.

  “Janice, please.”

  “Please, what? Please let me have my own double standards? Please let me be a hypocrite? Or what?”

  He couldn't do this. He couldn't fight this battle.

  “Who…” he began, his voice faint, “who told you?”

  “Who do you think? Pat.”

  “What?” gasped Todd, suddenly looking up at her. “When?”

  “Let's just say I knew by that Christmas.”

  All this time, all these years, the secret had been burning within Todd like a smoldering fire. That little bastard. Todd had kept up his part of the bargain. He hadn't told a soul. And here Pat had gone and told Janice. Janice of all people! He clenched his fists, felt his shame boil into anger, and wanted to strike out, hit something. Pat was such a shit. Todd had been such a fool. He should never have had sex with him, and by all means he should never have let Pat tell him what to do later on.

  The frustration, the anger, just popped. Todd pulled his leg back, looked for something, anything, and then as hard as he could kicked a side table, causing a lamp and a handful of magazines to crash to the floor.

  “Todd!” screamed Janice.

  But her plea went unheard. Instead, Todd kicked the table two and three more times until one of the legs cracked, and then he started kicking the magazines, sending them flapping across the room like insane birds.

  “Goddamn it all!” he shouted as loudly as he could.

  “Stop it, Todd! Just stop it!”

  His face seething, he turned to her, saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. So how much had Pat actually told her? Not simply that they'd had sex, but everything? Half of him wanted Janice to know the entire truth about that night Greg had died, half of him was terrified that she already did.

  19

  The doorbell was ringing. Janice was slumped on the couch, sobbing. Todd was seated on the floor leaning against a wall, his face buried in his hands. And the doorbell was ringing.

  Todd raised his head, wiped the tears from his own eyes. Glancing around, he saw the broken leg of the side table, the scattered magazines. Crap. When was he going to get ahold of his temper?

  Yes, the doorbell. There it was again.

  With the pain from his bruises cutting into his side, Todd pushed himself up from the floor. He paused, picked up one torn magazine that sprawled like a dead pigeon on the floor, laid it carefully on a chair. This was unbelievable, all of it.

  His voice hoarse, barely audible, he said, “Janice, I…”

  But he didn't know what to say, and in any case it didn't make any difference. She didn't want to hear. Seated on the couch, she pulled the blanket up even higher, covering her face, and wouldn't even look at him. Who could blame her?

  As the doorbell rang again, Todd shuffled to the entry hall. Opening the front door, he found Rawlins standing there, his compact body shivering, his head and leather jacket covered with snow.

  “Shit, it's really coming down,” Rawlins said, entering and stomping his boots. “Sorry it took me so long to get over here—we haven't had a storm like this in a few years.” He glanced back to the kitchen. “Where is she?”

  “In the living room.”

  “How is she?”

  “Not good.”

  Rawlins studied Todd. “Man, you don't look so good either.”

  “I'm not.” He shook his head. “This is really a mess. Come on, there's a lot to tell you.”

  Todd led Rawlins down to the living room, where they found Janice still slumped on the couch.

  “Hi,” she said, wiping her eyes and looking only at Rawlins. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Of course, but, Janice, what the hell's going on?” began Rawlins in his usual direct way. “Let me get this straight. That kid, that baby you've had for the past week, she's your granddaughter?”

  Janice nodded.

  “It's a tad more complicated—I'll tell you later,” added Todd, wondering what Rawlins would think. “About an hour ago someone broke in, tied up Janice, knocked me out, and took her.”

  “Oh, Jesus, a kidnapping.”

  Janice looked away. Then she reached down to the coffee table and took the note.

  “I don't know what to say,” began Janice. “Read this. We're not supposed to contact the police. I'm just afraid of what they'll do if…if…''

  Rawlins said firmly, “Relax. They won't know.”

  “Janice,” added Todd, placing his hand on Rawlins's shoulder, “you've got to tell him everything.”

  Obviously angry with him, she glared at Todd and shrugged. She motioned for Rawlins to sit down, and then slowly, hesitantly, she began with the facts. She'd had a kid between her junior and senior years in college, she explained, her voice flat, almost defeated, and she'd not heard nor seen anything of the child until three years ago when he'd simply shown up at her law office one day. Eventually, she told Rawlins everything, excluding one simple thing: the identity of the father.

  “I left a letter with his mother,” she said. “I asked her to give it to Zeb if he ever inquired about me. Well, three years ago he did inquire, he did get my letter, and after that he decided to come up and meet me.”

  “Just out of the blue?” asked Rawlins.

  “Totally.”

  Janice continued to explain that there'd been nothing after that, not a word or a call or anything, until just a few days ago when he'd phoned and told her they had to meet, that night if possible.

  “So I meet him in the parking lot of the Rainbow Foods store last Monday. It's real cold, and he gets in my car and says hello. And in his arms, wrapped in his parka, is this kid, little Ribka.”

  “You didn't know about her?” asked Rawlins.

  “Are you kidding? Not at all.”

  “What did he do then?” Todd ventured.

  She exp
lained how Zeb had said he was worried about the child, how they were coming after him, how he was worried about his own safety.

  Rawlins pressed, “Who? Who's this ‘they'?”

  “I don't know.” Janice shook her head. “It just all happened so quickly. He was in my car, then he was pushing the kid into my arms, and then he was jumping out. It all happened about that quickly. But…”

  “But?”

  “Well, when he was here the first time he told me that his parents were divorced—apparently when he was ten or eleven his mother took him and ran away from his father. Something about his dad being in some religious cult. Then when he was here the first time, he told me he was going back to live with his dad for a while.”

  “So maybe he stayed for a few years and then he had to run away too.”

  “That's what I've been thinking,” added Janice. “Maybe there was no way to get away from them but to run. And he took his daughter just like his mom took him, and now they're after him. It's either that or drugs, because I know he got into some trouble in high school for smoking pot.”

  Todd gently asked, “Did he say anything about what he was going to do? Where he was going?”

  “No, not really.”

  “You don't have any way of getting in touch with him?”

  “No. He didn't say a thing about his plans.” She stopped, tripped on something in her memory. “Wait a minute. He said something about a job interview, that he'd just had one.”

  “Here, in town?” interjected Todd.

  “I think so.”

  “Good. Then it sounds as if he wasn't planning on going far. He probably wanted to be close to the kid.”

  “Did he say where he interviewed?” asked Rawlins.

  “Uh. Oh, crap, what did he say?”

  “At a factory, a business downtown, an insurance agency, anything like that?” suggested Todd.

  She looked at him. “A hospital, that's what he said.” Her eyes opened wide. “A hospital in Edina.”

  Todd smiled slightly. “There's only one hospital out there, right?”

  “As far as I know.” Rawlins started to get up. “Let's just hope he was offered the job and that he in fact took it.”