by C. S Luis
I rushed up to the metal doors, looking back as Michael dragged himself to the entrance to open the doors, slowly pulling out his large keychain. We walked in, and Michael still looked troubled.
“Claudia,” he began to say before he stopped. I glanced back at him momentarily; my thoughts were merely on Mr. Slater more than anything.
I waved him away. “Michael, I’ll come see you after I speak with Mr. Slater.”
My thoughts were on who he planned to take to the game with him. Of course, I think I had the upper hand on that. But I wanted to see what he thought.
Michael sighed and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be at my office,” he said, unlocking the office door when I realized it wasn’t open.
I smiled and hurried inside. I could make the coffee before they both arrived because Janet had a coffee maker by her desk. I entered immediately, forgetting Michael outside in the hallway.
Inside, I turned on the lights of the office. Finding his office door slightly ajar, I entered and turned on the lights. I looked around, and it seemed quite empty. I stepped over to the desk, and there was nothing left. It was as if he had never been there.
I looked around and spotted the nameplate, and under it was a white envelope that looked like it was addressed to me.
I dropped on the chair facing his desk, feeling the tears gather in my eyes; the dread in my throat tightened. I grabbed it and tore it open quickly and then pulled out the letter and began to read. It was from Mr. Slater. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I realized what I was reading.
My Dearest Claudia,
I hope that you have it in your heart to forgive me for what I’m about to say. But I figured it would be easier this way. I feared that by staying another day I would be endangering you and Michael. I care so deeply for you that if anything ever happened to you, I could never forgive myself. The people that I work for are ruthless, and I fear they have found me. I can never let them discover your existence. It’s for these very reasons, in order to protect you, that I must leave and never return. And that is one of the hardest things to do because you’ve become a very big part of my life. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.
Love always, John Slater
I started sobbing, wrinkling the letter in my hand in anger and then rose, unfolding it.
“You can’t,” I whispered and rushed out of the office into the hallway.
I found Michael standing and gazing at me. “Claudia?” He made a movement to say something to console me. And then I realized he knew.
“You knew?” I angrily said. “And you didn’t tell me!” I yelled. I felt betrayed by them both.
“I didn’t want to upset you,” he tried to say.
“Claudia!” Michael yelled, but I ran, hurrying down the hall until I reached the end of the hall, and I ran out of the school.
“You promised,” I whispered, holding the letter in my hands. “You promised you would take me with you!” I yelled and began to cry, lowering my head.
“You promised I could go with you,” I sadly whispered.
I wandered back to the assistant principal’s office and entered Mr. Slater’s old office. Michael was standing by the desk. He was silent; he didn’t say anything to me as I took a seat on one of the seats facing Mr. Slater’s old desk.
I thought of all our times together, the moments we spent in his office eating lunch. We were so happy. But maybe I should have known. He had seemed so distracted lately. Why didn’t I pick up on it?
“Are you alright?” Michael finally asked. I looked up at him, wanting to say nothing to him out of spite, but I couldn’t. Instead, I held onto Mr. Slater’s nameplate.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said, and he took a breath.
“Why did he abandon us? Why did he leave again?” I thought he cared. “He doesn’t care.”
“That's not true,” Michael said.
“Then why did he leave?”
“Sometimes we have to do what we don’t want to in order to protect those we love,” Michael said, lowering his head.
“Protect us? Protect us from who?” Michael couldn’t answer, and he tried to make sense of it himself.
“Why?” I asked, squeezing the nameplate close. I still couldn’t understand, no matter what Michael tried to say. How could he just leave me? After all, he had promised to take me with him.
“He wanted to protect you, Claudia,” Michael again tried to say. “Mr. Slater has his reasons, reasons we might never understand, but I know he did it because he cares about you.”
I looked over at Michael. “He promised me…” I started to say, and then I realized Michael shouldn't know that I had wanted to leave with Mr. Slater. I hadn’t planned to tell him. I guess I didn’t really consider it. Perhaps that's why he left. Had he’d changed his mind?
“Promised?” Michael asked.
“Nothing,” I whispered. “It doesn't matter.”
“Claudia, John does care about you,” Michael insisted.
I just looked at him. I wanted to believe it, but I was too hurt; he had abandoned me without even saying goodbye in person. Michael gazed over at me as I pressed the nameplate close.
“I thought I’d keep it, you know, in case he returns,” I childishly said. Michael looked at me like I was a fool.
“He’d like that,” Michael whispered.
“Why does it hurt so much?” I asked him. “I didn’t even like him at the beginning, and now I miss him so much.”
Michael smiled as he rested his arm on his leg. “You miss him because he’s become part of our family. And we mourn those we love, especially when they leave us.”
I looked over at Michael. “Do you think we’ll ever see him again?”
Michael took a deep breath and looked towards the doorway; in his mind, a memory of Mr. Slater appeared, and I liked the thought of seeing him there.
“I think we will,” Michael said, glancing back at me with a smile on his face. The thought left me feeling warm and hopeful. But I knew that he didn’t believe it; he was lying to me now, and I knew why.
Michael rose. “Come on. I’ll buy you breakfast before school starts.”
He reached for me, and we both walked out the office. I only stopped at the entrance to look back at the chair where I had so many times found Mr. Slater behind his desk working hard. He was there in my thoughts, smiling back at me. I felt Michael pull me away, and we closed the door and walked into the hallway.
As we walked out the side entrance of Milton towards the parking lot, a tall man wearing a black suit and blue striped tie stepped in front us. He curved a lip at us, and his beady eyes looked sinister.
Now what? Michael must have thought just as I had.
Michael immediately moved in front of me, coming between the stranger and me.
“Michael McClellan?” The man asked and reached into his pocket.
“Yes?” Michael braced himself as the man quickly pulled out and handed him a white envelope.
Michael took it, and the man walked away without saying another word.
“What is it, Michael?” I asked, and Michael immediately opened the envelope and read through it.
His jaw suddenly dropped and he glanced down at me. “What is it?” I impatiently asked again, but I already knew.
“The man claiming to be your uncle is suing me for custody of you.”
Mr. Slater had said he would never bother me again, but here he was now, suing Michael with that very fantasy. I had seen his disgusting thoughts before Mr. Slater had punched him in the jaw. I was frightened. What would happen without Mr. Slater to protect me?
Michael gazed over at me. “Don’t worry, Claudia; we’ll figure this out. This man isn’t going to get away with this. He has no right to your inheritance or you.”
I tried to nod, but I was very much afraid.
“I think it’s time I call Mr. West and find out what’s going on here,” Michael said.
And as we walked back towards the building, it was then that I knew t
hings were about to get complicated.
23
Claudia
February 2013—
* * *
It was the day of court, to contest Mr. Vega’s copy of the will. It was his order of custody and I was scared he would succeed. It had also been weeks since Mr. Slater had left us and I was quite bummed out, along with this, it was the beginning of a very bad day.
“He’s not Claudia’s uncle,” I heard Michael say into the phone as I came down before we headed to school. I slowly stepped around the side of the corner to listen.
“No, I can’t prove it but why does that matter? It’s obvious what he’s after. I don’t care what kind of papers he has that prove otherwise. He’s a liar!” He took a breath.
“I know, but this can’t be happening there must be something you can do, Mr. Jenkins. This man has tried to attack Claudia before---a restraining order? ---I don’t think that’s going to stop him from repeatedly trying to sue us for money that doesn’t rightfully belong to him.” Michael again said into the phone.
“I know you’re doing all that you can Mr. Jenkins---I know.” He sighed and lowered his eyes putting a hand over his head. He looked stressed out and very rightfully.
“Then file the restraining order if it would give us some time. I can’t and won’t allow him to get his hands on Claudia or her inheritance.”
Michael slammed his fist down; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry. And he wasn’t the type to be.
“He can’t say that because it’s not true! I’m not trying to do anything---he’s not her uncle!” He took a breath; “I understand. I know, okay then we will be there then. Yes, good day.”
Would I be going home with this man pretending to be my uncle at end of all this and lose my friend Michael and everyone I loved because of him?
I came into the kitchen when Michael spotted me and tried to smile as I came to him and wrapped my arms around him.
“What’s gonna happen, Michael?” I asked nervously, already fearing the worse.
“It’s going to be alright.” He tried to say as he pulled me back and stared over at me.
“He’s not getting you and he’s not getting what’s not his.”
“Michael, he’s only going to continue dragging us into court.” I said.
“We’ll fight it until you turn 21 then there’s nothing he can about it. You’ll be legally able to receive your inheritance and he won’t have any say.” He tried to say with a smile.
“Michael?” I gazed up at him, and he nodded, knowing very well that it was years away before I reached that age. And it would be an expensive road ahead if that happened.
“Yes, I know dear.” He said reaching to hold me to him.
“We’ll think of something. I promise.” He said, but I knew he was hoping for some kind of miracle.
“Why would grandfather put that on the will?”
I guess I was referring to both the note of any living relatives as well as me receiving my inheritance at the age of 21.
“He didn’t---he would never.” Michael said, “Something else is at work here. I just don’t know what. Your grandfather would never have put you through this.” Of course, both wealth’s were at stake here; my grandfather’s and my parents’.
“Come on, we have to go to the school I need to do some more research before we head to court.”
I nodded as he grabbed his briefcase and we walked to the doorway and out the door onto the driveway where Michael’s awaiting SUV was. A short drive from home, Michael and I arrived at Milton to get a few things before we were expected at the court, our attorney was already waiting for us at the court house. He called Michael as we drove into the Milton parking lot.
* * *
Mr. Jenkins sounded worried from the sound of Michael’s conversation on the phone.
“Well, is there nothing you can do? What about the restraining order?” Michael asked, “Yes, then file it for now---we have to do something. That son-of-a-bitch is not going to do this. NO! She’s not going anywhere with him. He can argue all that in court she’s not his niece.” There was a pause.
“Yes, can you do that? ---Then demand that immediately----why? Well make him prove it then I have no reason to go up against him. Very well.”
Michael hung up and was silent for a moment, “Michael?” I whispered, he tried to smile at me.
“Mr. Jenkins is requesting a blood test.” He finally said, “If that son-of-a-bitch wants to us to believe he’s your uncle, he needs to prove It.” he grinned.
“I think we’re gonna be okay.” He said reaching over and caressing my cheek. I smiled and reached to hug him.
And it seemed things would be okay. I knew that if I ended up with him, the phony Christian would receive full guardianship as the trustee to handle property and money. In turn, he would be in charge of how the funds or the allowance I received every month would be distributed or spent.
Approximately $25,000, until I was old enough, 21 exactly, to do so myself. And Michael worried he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him from getting his hands on my money. I could tell it was taking a toll on him. But after that conversation with Mr. Jenkins, things seemed to be looking up.
He wasn’t even my uncle but he had paperwork that proved otherwise, and my grandfather’s signature as proof that he knew and believed that he was. And, of course, my grandfather’s consent. How could I fight that? I wondered myself if my grandfather really did believe it. Had he signed that paper because he’d been duped into believing it? No, I couldn’t see it. But the blood test would prove otherwise and I was sure of it.
We got out of the car and made our way into the building and down the hallway, as we reached the office, Michael opened the door and we entered the interior office. Mrs. Wallace was at her desk; she looked worried, everyone had been on pins and needles since the news had first hit.
First Mr. Slater’s departure, and now this. Did the universe hate me? She sadly looked over at us as Michael and I entered his office and came to the door as we walked inside.
“Sir, is there anything I can get you?” Mrs. Wallace kindly offered.
He looked over at her as I took a seat in front of his desk.
“No, Mrs. Wallace. We’re due in court I’ve just stopped to get a few things before we head out again. Have you informed Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez of our arrangements?”
“Yes, sir. They should be in quite early this morning to keep their eyes on things while you’re away. Don’t you worry. You just get this sorted out.”
If only it were that easy, I thought. I think Michael wanted to say the same thing as he looked over at me from the other end of the desk.
He nodded as she walked out the door and back to her desk. Michael dropped on the seat behind his desk, pulling open his drawers; I think he was waiting on Mr. Jenkins’ call setting his cell phone on top of his desk.
As he set the briefcase on the top of his desk, he began; “I’ve asked Mr. Jenkins to file a restraining order so that Mr. Vega-” he said with difficulty because we didn’t know what to rightfully call him. “Can’t come close to you without getting arrested.”
Then the cell phone rang, he immediately picked it up but slowly answered at the third ring after taking a breath.
“Michael McClellan.” he answered, it was our attorney, I could tell by the smile on Michael’s face. He was happy to hear from him.
“Yes, what news do you have for me? --- Oh? What? Why? Can they do that? But—no!” then he fell silent and merely listened. “But—well—won’t that prove infinity if she is or not—no I don’t understand but—how can they?” He fell silent again. “Yes—yes we’re on our way then. Thank you.”
Michael rose from his seat, I stared up at him and my hands were trembling, he didn’t look happy and I feared what he would reveal to me.
“The judge doesn’t think a blood test is necessary—he thinks we’re wasting time. Apparently Mr. Vega has everyone convinced---he’s a
poor veteran being denied---” he stopped.
“What?” I gasped. “So, just like that I’m going to hand this monster my life because some judge thinks we are playing around? Because he’s fooling everyone into thinking he’s my uncle? He’s assumed my uncle’s identity and now he’s using him against me! A man I never had the honor of meeting!” I growled rising to my feet before Michael.
“This is so unfair! My uncle was a war hero not this—whoever he is!”
“I know, my dear, but he has convinced everyone else—”
“More liked fooled.” I angrily uttered.
Michael stood and walked around the office as if he were silently trying to figure out what to do. But there was nothing to do.
“I guess we should go. Mr. Jenkins is waiting for us. It’s now in the court’s hands.”
“I won’t go, Michael. I just won’t go with that man. He’s not my uncle, he’s a liar.”
I boldly said. He came to my side.
“Claudia,” he took a deep breath and I dropped in his arms.
“Please don’t make me go. He’s not my uncle, he’s only after my money.”
“I know.” Michael whispered and took another breath, “We’ll fight it---Mr. Jenkins is filing a restraining order—we’ll get through this, I promise.”
“I wish Mr. Slater was here. He would know what to do. I just know it.” Even Michael wished for Mr. Slater to reappear and save us in some way that only he could. He always knew how.
Michael put his hand on my shoulder. The moment of truth had arrived, and as I slowly gathered myself, I pictured a life with this man who said he was my uncle. Even if I didn’t live with him, there was still the matter of my inheritance and as guardian, he would be in charge. I would have to go to him to get my money. He alone would decide what I needed and what I didn’t. I would be at his mercy. And I knew he wasn’t going to make it easy.
We walked into the interior office before Michael stopped to grab the mail from the pigeonhole, and as we proceeded to walk out the door; he stopped dead in his tracks. He froze staring at a yellow 11x14 envelope in his hands.