Blue Bear_or the Impossibility of Anonymity

by Joseph Grady

  “Lucy, this is all weird.” Andrew lowered his voice.

  Lucy had to lean in to talk over the motor. “What’s weird?”

  “The whole Scott thing. I think he’s a great guy and all, and I’ll do what I can for him. But it’s just weird. I’d keep my distance if I were you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can I be frank?”

  “You already are being frank.”

  “There’s a lot of people who care about you. Maybe I’m one of them, alright? I just don’t want to see you getting mixed up with this whole murder thing anymore. I’ve almost been killed, Scott’s clearly a target. Maybe you were right a while ago. We’d be better to just keep our heads down and not get involved. I want you to be safe. I care, you know?”

  “What does that have to do with Scott?”

  “Nothing. I’m sure it’s nothing. All I’m saying is that what happened to him is weird, and maybe that’s something to stay clear of.”

  “I just need to talk to him before he leaves.”

  “He’s leaving?”

  “Within a couple days. You said you’d help me with whatever?”

  “I’ll do anything to help you, Lucy.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Even if I don’t know what’s going on, I’ll help. But you know I don’t like it.”

  “That means a lot. Thanks.”

  “Remember, just stay safe and stay out of it. We care about you.”

  She laid her head on Andrew’s shoulder, stretched her calves out on top of Natasha’s legs — Natasha grunted, but allowed Lucy to stay — and pretended to fall asleep. She was in the middle of nowhere Italy, and for at least the next couple hours, far from Rome and Milan, she knew she would be safe with those two by her side. And somewhere in Umbria, she actually did fall asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  LA CHIAVE DELLA CHIAVE

  Within an hour of her return to her room at the Palazzo, she heard an envelope slide under her door. Inside, there was a note and a key card.

  Like I said, I’m here to help, and I’ve got connections in this country. Scott’s in room 503. Don’t go until after midnight when everybody’s asleep or you’ll probably be seen on the hallways. Promise me you’ll be safe. - Andrew.

  She opened the door, and looked up and down the hallway. Andrew was nowhere to be seen.

  By 11:30pm she was walking back and forth along the street between the NAC and the Palazzo, and by 11:58 she tried the key card on the NAC’s gate. The light beeped and turned green, and the heavy door ceded to her frantic shove. Alone in the elevator, she pressed a number forbidden to her except twice a year whenever she gate crashed the open houses they held for benefactors — and certainly forbidden to any beautiful young woman any time after midnight, when nothing but sin happens for those who are not pious enough to be sound asleep.

  Room 503 was near the end of a long corridor of thirty bedrooms. She didn’t knock but quietly cracked the door open, slipped in and shut it behind her. Turning around, her eyes flew open and her jaw dropped in embarrassment. She did not find a dark room with Scott deep in pious slumber, but four guys sitting around gripping Manhattans and staring at a presence totally foreign to them in such get togethers.

  “Scott,” one of them finally said, “I didn’t know this was going to be that kind of a party.”

  “Can I get you a drink?” offered a second.

  “I knew it!” said a third with a fake grin and exaggerated hand gestures. “I just knew it. There’s something electric in the air. Just electric. Don’t you feel it? I’ve felt it too, Scott. Isn’t it invigorating? The Spirit’s just moving! They’re finally gonna get ride of that celibacy rule.”

  It took Lucy a while to figure out he was joking. She didn’t laugh along with the others.

  “Scott,” she said with solemnity. “I just… I just… I needed to see you.”

  “This is probably not the best time.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Guys, could you give us a minute?” Scott poked at the pillow behind his back, and grimaced as he adjusted his right foot and the massive plaster cast surrounding it.

  His three friends gave each other looks.

  “Oh come on! You know me.”

  The three got up, clearly reluctant to leave, wanting to see how things would play out.

  They exited the room and she brought a chair up next to his bed, and took his hand. “When are you leaving?”

  “It’s not fair. I am on way too many pain killers and too much gin to have this kind of discussion with you right now.”

  “In vino veritas.”

  “In morphino absurditas.”

  “Look. I think you know what I want to say. I wish we didn’t have to, like, talk right now, this early in our ... in our … well, whatever it is. But here we are. You’re leaving.”

  “No. Look, Lucy, I had to do this all day yesterday. I mean, don’t worry, I know, it’s normal and all. All the nurses at the hospital were clearly attracted to me, and they kept coming in and telling me, ‘Oh che bello, che bello,’ and I’m like, ‘Come on, babe, just, like, put the cast on, and get about your business. I get it. I do. But get about your business.’ And they did. They did. Italians. Whatever.”

  “You can’t just diffuse the situation with humor.”

  “Oh, wow. This is going to happen. Yeah, this is happening. Okay. Serious Lucy. I’m speaking with serious Lucy. No, you’re right. Let’s be serious. Okay. Do you know how bad I feel about the other night? I gotta apologize. It wasn’t right.”

  “Scott, stop letting yourself talk that way. You’ve never been ideological before, and you’re not going to start now. I won’t let you. You say the truth. You know what happened. You know what you felt. Now’s the time,” she grabbed harder onto his hand and leaned over the bed. “You know we could make this work.”

  “No, I get it. I get it. We could have a beautiful life together, ’cause I’m beautiful. You’re beautiful. We’d make beautiful babies and I would, just, you know, become a very successful entrepreneur or an attorney or something. And we’d go on and it’d all just be great. We’d move back to Wisconsin and just live the best life ever. Is that what you want?”

  “Yes! Sure, maybe’s it’s a little early to say that, and when you phrase it like that it sounds crazy, but yes. There you have it. I’ve said what I want. Now you just – just take a risk – you have to say what you want.”

  “Lucy, there’s something else. And you gotta believe that I betrayed that something else the other night when I behaved like that with you. And the fact that I did is a comment on the smallness of my soul and the greatness of who you are. You just gotta trust me. There’s something else already at play in my life. I know you’re not interested in moralistic platitudes, and to be honest, I’m not interested either. Just trust. There’s something else, alright? I’m sorry.”

  “Is it money?”

  “No.”

  “There’s a lot of people at the Diocese of Oshkosh paying way too much for your pathetic education over here. I get it. You’d feel like you betrayed them if you ran off with me. Whatever, Scott, money’s not an issue.”

  “I know money’s not an issue.”

  “No, literally, money’s not the issue. Some people kill to get their inheritance ... some people run away from theirs. I’m telling you, though, any debt you’ve got to the diocese can be solved with a phone call. Don’t let that be an issue.”

  “I know your daddy’s loaded. Brian told me. Money’s not an issue. I know.”

  “So there’s nothing holding you back then. The other night you made it clear what you want, and right here, just now, you’ve told me as much implicitly. Why don’t you just put on your big boy pants, take a risk, and say it now again, in no uncertain terms. I’m putting my heart on the line. You think this is easy?”

  “You think it’s easy for me to say no? You think I’m not making a huge risk by saying no?”

  “I don’t want to
fight. This isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Good, then let’s not fight.”

  Lucy stood up, sat on the side of the bed, grabbed both his shoulders, leaned in and forced her lips onto his. He didn’t resist. She heard snickering from Scott’s friends watching through the cracked door.

  She sat back up, looked him in the eyes, and walked out the room into the hallway. All three of Scott’s friends jumped up and tried to act casual with her presence.

  “Lucy,” Scott yelled at her from his room.

  She brushed a tear off her cheek and continued down the hallway.

  “Lucy!” he yelled louder. “Your keys! You just dropped your keys on me.”

  She stopped, and checked all her pockets. She pulled herself back together and came into the room. Scott was smiling and dangling Eugenio’s two keys in his hand.

  “Sorry... I didn’t mean to ruin your dramatic exit or anything.”

  She didn’t say anything, but took the keys and turned around to leave.

  “But can I ask why you have a public storage locker?”

  “What?”

  “Public storage. Why do you have one of those storage garages?”

  “How do you know that’s what this is?” she asked, with her back still to him.

  “There’s the logo right there on the key. We’ve got one for the lounge at the NAC too. We’re remodeling, so we put all the furniture in storage. How much stuff could you possibly have that you’d need a storage garage?”

  She didn’t know how to respond, so instead she just left the room.

  When she got down the street and back upstairs to the Palazzo, the light was still on in Brian’s room.

  “Lucy, I’m sorry.” Brian sat up. He had been laying on his bed reading Karl Rahner’s Fundamental Theology.

  Lucy sat down at his desk chair. She’d been getting ready with responses to an I-told-you-so approach from Brian, but was deflated by an apology.

  “Brian, it was... it was...”

  “I can’t image. Natasha’s been texting me.”

  “I should probably also say I’m sorry for... for y’know... the things I said when –”

  “Don’t bring it up again.”

  Lucy threw the keys over to Brian.

  “What’s this?”

  “Those are the keys.”

  “The keys?”

  “Yep.”

  “I thought we agreed it’s better if I don’t know where they are or what they look like.”

  “Do you understand what those symbols are?”

  “No,” he looked at them more closely.

  “There’s the initials M.P. written on the one key.”

  “Member of parliament?”

  “It means Magazzini Pubblici – public storage. It’s a key to a storage facility unit. The company Magazzini Pubblici has three locations in Rome. We need to go check all of them tomorrow.”

  “But how does this work? We just walk around with the key and try to open every locker?”

  “Brian, are you gonna help me or not?”

  He sighed, looked down, and rubbed his forehead.

  “I’m really sorry about what happened to Scott.”

  “I didn’t ask you about Scott. Are you, Brian, going to help me, Lucy, right now?”

  “I’ve been at work all day.”

  “I’ve been driving all day.”

  “I’ve got a seminar presentation tomorrow.”

  “You disappoint me, Brian.”

  “Listen. If you’re really in danger, just tell me what’s going on and I can help you. But if not...”

  Lucy had already walked out of his door.

  The next evening after class, Lucy and Natasha tried the location closest to them first, a short bus ride, just a few miles from Palazzo Mortimer, right next to Villa Doria-Pamphili. From the outside it didn’t look that big. The gate was open, so they came right into the maze of garages without having to think up a way to get through the entrance. There had to be up to five hundred units. It was late on a Monday evening, but there were a few people moving things in and out of cars and trucks. They walked all the way down one aisle, and across the back row. In the middle of another row, they saw a group of people all gathered around a storage unit.

  “Do you know what they do with public storage lockers when people stop paying their rent?” said Natasha.

  “Take your stuff?”

  “No. They open them up and auction off the contents of the locker. Didn’t you ever watch television in America?”

  “I don’t remember that happening on any of the shows I watched.”

  “Let’s go,” Natasha went down the row towards the group of people. “I’ve always wanted to see one of these.”

  Fifteen very serious people crowded around an open storage locker in a semicircle, frowning at the contents inside: a treadmill, a mannequin, a bunch of boxes, and a weed wacker. A grey haired man, who was belting out Italian words at an impossibly fast pace, seemed to be the guy in charge. He kept yelling numbers and numbers and numbers, and pointing at people whenever they flinched. The price was raised over eight hundred euros, and the fight narrowed down to two people, flinching back and forth at each other. Eight hundred fifty. Nine hundred. Finally, one of them stopped flinching, but the auctioneer kept yelling nine hundred fifty at him, to try to provoke the non-flincher to flinch again. He frowned and wagged his finger ‘no’, so the auctioneer turned to the other flincher and yelled, “venduto!”

  Everybody clapped, the two flinchers shook each other’s hands, and the winner counted out a large pile of cash for a lady next to the auctioneer.

  “Eugenio died over a month ago,” said Natasha. “What if he didn’t pay the October rent? What could that mean for November?”

  “It could mean we showed up just in time, if they’re gonna do any more of these today, or it could mean we just lost the inheritance to this guy. I don’t have any cash, do you?” she dug around in her bag and could find only four euros in change. “It’s too bad, that’s a nice looking treadmill. I can see why the true heirs wanted to kill for it.”

  Natasha checked her own resources, “I’ve got a twenty. Do you think we could convince this man to give us a look for twenty four?”

  But the group set off again down the row, so Lucy and Natasha followed them to another large locker.

  “Allora, l’ultimo magazzino per oggi!”167 the auctioneer yelled, and opened up the garage door.

  Everyone crowded around the unit, and two employers spread their arms to prevent anyone from going in. Unlike the last garage, which had been packed to the gills with stuff, this one had just one item: a large red Nike duffel bag lying on the floor. People started shaking their heads, and about half the group even headed for the exit. Lucy and Natasha both gave each other knowing looks.

  The auctioneer began at twenty Euros, and Lucy raised her hand immediately.

  Thirty? There was a challenger standing at the other side of the semicircle.

  Forty? Another challenger raised his hand.

  Fifty? Lucy raised her hand.

  Sixty? The first challenger was back.

  Eighty? Lucy fired again.

  “How on earth are we going to get money?” Natasha whispered in Lucy’s ear. “These kinds of things are always cash only. Wouldn’t it be better to just let this guy win and then rob him on his way out?”

  “I’ve got a hunch about this one. If I’m right we’ll have a lot of money in just a second.”

  Ninety?

  The challenger scratched his chin, and looked over at Lucy. Newcomers, it seemed, were not appreciated at the storage locker auctions. “Due cento!” he yelled and glared at Lucy.

  The auctioneer looked at Lucy and offered her two hundred and fifty. She agreed.

  The other guy upped it to three hundred.

  Lucy accepted three fifty, crossed her arms and glared back at the challenger.

  “Lucy, three fifty for Eugenio’s duffel bag? I’m sure we can buy it
off the guy after he’s had a look.”

  “Not if I’m right. And hey, if I’m wrong, this wouldn’t be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Just pretend like we don’t speak Italian. Did the auctioneer just say three hundred or did he say thirty-five? It’s tough to say. Are they on the euro in Italy? I thought Italy was still on the lira.”

  The challenger, at that point, started scratching his chin, and looking anxious.

  Four hundred? He accepted.

  Lucy immediately accepted four hundred and fifty without hesitating. The challenger finally wagged his finger at the auctioneer, ducking out of the race. Some of the crowd clapped, others chuckled at Lucy, having made the worst gamble of the day. Lucy ran straight into the locker and opened up a corner of the bag.

  The auctioneer yelled at her, telling her she had to pay first, in cash, before she would be allowed into the locker. “Non si tocca niente! Non si tocca niente finché non si paga! Vai fuori! Prima si paga!”

  She turned around and apologized to the auctioneer, placing five crisp hundred-euro bills in his hands. He immediately forgot his anger and smiled at Lucy. They shook hands. She took a fifty in change, and accepted a set of keys for a new Magazzini Pubblici lock on the unit. They made her sign a contract on the unit that would terminate within a month unless rent was paid on time. Some of the others in the crowd stuck around, curious to see whether or not Lucy’s gamble had paid off. Natasha placed herself between the group and the bag with her arms crossed.

  The auctioneer walked away. Lucy turned on her phone’s flashlight app and closed the garage door. There would be no audience when they opened the bag. She and Natasha stood on opposite sides, looking down.

  “Well, it’s your bag now,” said Natasha. “Let’s have a look.”

  “Here, hold the flashlight.”

  Lucy knelt down, and unzipped the duffel. It was absolutely packed full of bundles and bundles of one hundred, two hundred, and five hundred euro bills. Natasha immediately took a seat on the floor, and had trouble holding the phone steady. Lucy took out a bundle and flipped through the bills. Neither of them could speak. Here it was. The true heirs weren’t lying. They were really after a lot of money.