“What?!”
“Yeah, what a night.”
“Well that’s just great. Both Murphy and the cops. How’d you get away?”
“I jumped off the bridge, and the next thing I know I’m floating downriver thinking I might die.”
Frank nodded. “Looks like it could have been a lot worse, though. So Murphy didn’t patch you up? Just gave you a towel?”
“Pretty much.”
“Wow, this is nuts. I don’t get it.”
“Well, it’s the last time, Frank.”
“Good.” Frank stood up. “Thanks, Allie. Here, Chase. Take a couple shots of this.”
“So what happened?” Allie asked with concern.
Frank knew his wife’s need for details, so he explained the events as best he could.
Allie looked at Chase. “What are you going to do? The police? And Murphy? I can’t imagine what’s going on in your head right now!”
“Yeah, really,” Frank added.
Chase emptied the first small glass. Allie cleaned the wound and prepared the bandages, looking back and forth from Chase to Frank, searching for answers. Frank poured another shot and wanted to hear more. “You said something about this being the last time. What do you mean?”
“Forget it.”
Allie tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear, leaned forward, and looked tenderly into Chase’s eyes. “You know you can trust us, Chase. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done or what you’re going to do. We love you, and we always will. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So then talk to us,” Allie said, gently probing.
“I don’t know. It’s just that something happened to me tonight. I guess it’s everything together, getting shot, falling in the river, a set-up by Murphy. I, um, I honestly don’t know. Just that things are going to be different now. I can’t really explain it. I just know it inside.”
“Sounds like you need some answers,” Frank said.
“Yeah, but maybe I should tell you why I got into this whole thing in the first place. I’ve never really said much about it all.”
“We can do that tomorrow. Right now you need sleep. Crash here tonight and we’ll figure out what to do in the morning. Allie, could you bring out some blankets?”
“No, don’t do that.” Chase gingerly sat up, trying to regain his strength. “Now listen, I know it’s late and we’re all tired, but I think I need to talk since I have no idea what’s going to happen. I may not have this chance again. Somebody needs to know everything. I just feel that. You guys are the closest people I have. I mean Sadie’s all right, but it’s not the same. So let’s talk. Then I’ll go get Sadie and leave the area.”
Frank eased into a nearby chair, curious about his brother’s intentions. Allie stayed next to Chase, adjusting the bandages. Chase waited until she finished. After a minute or so she stood. “There you go. You’re okay for now. Would you like some coffee first?
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“Frank?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“Now don’t tell your story till I get back!”
As Chase’s eyes moved slowly around the room, the family photos on the wall caught his attention. He looked at his mother and father on their wedding day, about the only time he could remember seeing his dad with a smile. His mom looked beautiful in her wedding dress, her dark Italian skin presenting a lovely contrast with her white gown. Everyone looked so rich in suits and fine new dresses. St. Thomas’s Church, constructed a century ago, looked even more resplendent than he recalled. Though the building was fairly modest for a Catholic church, its statues, crosses, flowers, and incense clearly identified it with the faith.
Chase glanced at a photo of six-year-old Frank in a brand-new uniform, poised to hit a T-ball. Their dad insisted they play baseball, though neither demonstrated the necessary talent or showed any desire to acquire it. After a season of watching his sons’ uncoordinated play and listening to their complaints, their dad gave up, though not without insults.
“If you can’t play ball, what good are you?” he would ask. That attitude surely characterized his father. He was critical of everyone but himself, at least outwardly. Chase wondered how he could have found much happiness in choosing the bottle over his family. Had his father attempted to cover his emptiness with an unsatisfying replacement? For the first time, he considered that this was what he himself had been doing, hiding his pain through drugs and dealing, escaping so he wouldn’t have to face the rejection he felt. Murphy said something about him not being who he thought he was and about lying to himself, whatever that meant. He’d think about it later.
Chase noticed the graduation pictures, filled with smiling people wearing their Sunday best. This was strange from his jaded perspective. Why celebrate twelve years of educational boredom? Never did make much sense. But maybe others were not like him. He knew Frank and Allie were different from him in so many ways. They were a stable, career-minded, goal-oriented couple. The two finished high school with honors, earned bachelor’s degrees, married a year later, and started their own business just months ago.
Chase saw a picture of Lane, the oldest, sitting on his brand-new motorcycle. His smile always seemed to proclaim confidence. Outgoing, adventurous, and full of energy, Lane typically appeared to be unworried about the challenges of life.
The last photo remained Chase’s favorite. He looked affectionately at Nattie, a name the family gave his grandmother. Chase spent hours with her after school as she recounted stories of her past. He didn’t care all that much for her advice, but he treasured their time alone. On several occasions, some of the money he made from dealing found its way into her purse, though he hoped she never knew the source. Nattie had been so proud of Chase. He cried for days after she died four years ago, shortly before he dropped out of school.
“Nattie was something else, wasn’t she?” Chase softly observed.
“Yes she was,” Frank agreed, looking up at the wall. “You know she always liked you the most.”
“C’mon, Frank. That’s not true.”
“Yes it is! I’m sure of it because you’re the youngest. She loved to spoil you.”
Chase smiled broadly. “Wow! I think you’re jealous!”
“Probably,” said Frank with a grin.
Chase stared at the ceiling. “Seems like a long time ago. I mean not only since Nattie died but since Dad left us, the old high school days, growing up next door to the Ericsons. Where’s it all gone, Frank?”
“I don’t know.” Frank seemed a bit annoyed. “I guess I don’t think about it much. I’ve got a life ahead of me, a good job, a decent place to live. We’re trying to have a baby. Did you hear?”
“Really? That’s great.”
“Yeah,” Frank said, smiling. “We thought it was about time.”
“Yeah? No kidding.”
“Well, what do you think?”
“About what?”
“About us having a baby?”
“Oh, Frank,” Allie said with rolled eyes as she entered the living room. “Did you tell Chase what I think you did?”
“Yeah, he did,” Chase responded, taking the cup of coffee she handed him. “I think it’s cool. What do you want, boy or girl?”
At the same time Frank said “girl,” Allie said “boy.” Chase shook his head with a smirk. “It’s nice to see you still both agree on everything.”
They all laughed. Chase grimaced in pain, reaching for his shoulder. “You remember when Dad took off?”
“Yeah,” Frank answered, staring into his coffee.
“Well I know we all hate him, but I think what he did messed everything up for me most of all. You and Lane were able to get on with your lives, but I obviously went in another direction. I told you before that when Mom had to go back to work, selling drugs seemed
to be the only way I could help out. Maybe I could’ve done something else, but it’s the life I chose, a life that Dad forced on me. Why are you rolling your eyes?”
Frank shrugged. “Because you’re blaming Dad for your own decisions and lifestyle.”
“Of course I am! Things would’ve been different had he stayed. We’d have been a normal family. I would’ve been able to finish high school and get a regular job. I wouldn’t be in this situation tonight had he not left us.”
“All right. Go on.”
“Well anyway, you guys know the kind of people I’ve been around these past few years. They’re all like Dad. It’s unbelievable. They draw you in, take care of you for a while, talk about how important loyalty is, and then they stab you in the back when things get tough. I saw it happen all the time, but now I’m the one getting stabbed.”
“And shot,” Frank added glibly.
“Yeah, right. I know you’ve warned me for a long time, but once you’re in, it’s nearly impossible to get out. And listen, maybe I did make some wrong choices early on, but this could just be who I am, or who I was. I don’t know. The only thing I’m sure of, the thing I’ll be glad to leave behind, is the hunger that was never satisfied. The users were always hungry. They never had enough. The dealers were always demanding more users, and the richer they got, the greater their hunger for even more. My appetite was no different. It drove me on and on, deeper and deeper. I don’t think the hunger ever would’ve left. But it’s gone now.”
Allie reacted as soon as Chase took a breath. “Are you trying to tell us you’re done with Murphy? And the rest of it too? No more drugs?”
Chase shifted his position. “Not sure. I’d like to get even with Murphy, but it’s probably too dangerous—you know, with the cops and all. Just take care of myself. That’s always been my motto.”
“And the drugs?” asked Allie.
“At least no more dealing. In fact, I remember the day Nattie told me that God wouldn’t let me die without accomplishing something good. Maybe this is the time. I’ve got money, but if they’d killed me tonight, money wouldn’t have mattered. I think my only option is to take Sadie and leave.”
“Where to?” Frank asked.
“Somewhere far away. I’ve been stashing money in the bank for a long time, so we can pretty much go anywhere.”
“How much do you have?”
“Doesn’t matter. You’ve seen the place where I live, the clothes I wear. Sadie and I have only the one car. I guess it all just added up. Maybe saving a chunk of money is the only good thing I’ve done so far.”
“Does Sadie know about it?” Frank asked.
“What, are you crazy?”
Allie jumped in. “So you think she’ll leave with you?”
“Yeah. She depends on me.”
“I guess this is it then,” Allie said with obvious sadness.
“Guess so. Don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Doesn’t sound like it.” She rose to get the coffee pot. “So you’re sure the police know who you are?”
Chase thought for a moment. “Yeah. They yelled out my name tonight.” He rubbed his eyes with both hands. “What should we do? I’ll have to meet Sadie somewhere. Let’s see. We could meet at the Midway Motel. Frank, why don’t you take me over to … no, that won’t work. Um, okay, I’ve got it. I’m thinking that Murphy may try to grab Sadie in order to find me, so Frank, you should go right to my place, pick her up, and head for the Midway. Allie, you and I will go straight to the motel and wait for them. From there, Sadie and I will take a cab to the airport.”
“Why don’t we all just go together?” Allie suggested.
“No, too risky. It’s better if Frank goes alone. That way nobody will suspect anything. But be careful, Frank. I’ll call Sadie first and let her know you’re coming.”
Frank stood. “All right. Go ahead and call her, and we’ll get ready to go. I’ll grab you another shirt.” He glanced at his brother’s bare feet. “Looks like you need to borrow a pair of shoes too.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
Chase dragged himself into the kitchen toward the phone. As he dialed, his thoughts jumped ahead to California, the only place he knew that would be far enough away from all his troubles. He had an aunt living out there in Riverside, wherever that was. Maybe they could go see her and try to start over. But what would happen after they arrived? What then? He knew that even if they were fortunate enough to make it to the airport, he could never return to New York. California had to be the answer. But would he bring Sadie along after all? How could she possibly help him? How could her addict’s lifestyle help him make the change he desired?
Sadie answered after the first ring, her voice drifty, her words slurred.
“Sadie. … Yeah, it’s me. Listen, something’s come up … What? Murphy called you? … What kind of questions? … All right. Don’t worry. … I know you need a line. Calm down. I’ll see you soon. … Quit whining. I said soon! Now pay attention to me. Frank is coming to pick you up, so pack a couple of bags and go with him to the Midway Motel to meet me. Sadie, are you listening to me?”
Chase shook his head, annoyed at having to repeat himself. “You know I don’t have my car. Frank is coming. This is serious, Sadie. Grab whatever things you need. Make sure … are you hearing me? … Good. Make sure you bring all the papers in my top drawer. There’s a little brown envelope underneath them. Don’t forget it, okay? … Sadie, I can’t talk any longer. I’ll explain it all when I see you. Just put some clothes in a couple of bags and wait for Frank. But listen, more than anything, don’t forget my papers and the brown envelope. Got it? … What? … Well I didn’t ask you to like it. I don’t like it either. See you soon.”
Chase hung up and saw Frank and Allie waiting for him by the door, Allie clutching a package of bandages and a partial roll of athletic tape. “Let’s bring these with us,” she said. “You’ll need them later.”
“Good idea,” Chase said with a wince, taking her by the arm. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 3
Frank took a circuitous route on side streets to Chase’s apartment in case he was being followed. He drove an ’82 Seville, deep metallic blue with light blue interior, Frank’s proclamation of success. And though he felt thoroughly proud of his prize, spending his weekends washing, waxing, and polishing it, his friends and neighbors accused him of vanity.
Turning the Seville onto Walnut Street, Frank studied the rearview mirror, watching for tails. He mulled over his little brother’s predicament. As bleak as things appeared, perhaps this could become Chase’s opportunity for a better future, maybe his first break in life. He didn’t fully understand his brother’s dilemma, but Frank knew that if Chase could break free of the chains that had bound him for years, he’d never turn back. Frank recalled the day Chase had quit smoking when they were both teenagers.
“Frank, I’m not gonna smoke anymore,” he flatly stated one night in the bedroom they shared.
“What?”
“I said I’m not gonna smoke anymore.”
“Big deal. What are you telling me for?”
“Just wanted somebody to know. That’s all.”
“Chase, what are you doing something stupid like that for?”
“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think you’re stupid! Dad’s been smokin’ for years and look at the way he turned out.”
“Oh, so you figure cigarettes made Dad the way he is.”
“Course I don’t. I just don’t like ‘em anymore. I don’t like Dad anymore either, so I’m gonna quit.”
“What about drinking?”
“I like drinking.”
“You’re crazy.”
Regardless of his logic, Chase never put another cigarette to his lips. Frank respected him for that. And though his brother was obviously trapped in a much more dangerous addiction, Frank belie
ved in Chase’s ability to conquer this as well.
Frank pulled up slowly to the small apartment complex, which had once been a hotel, its tenants contributing to the growing deterioration of the old building. Frank couldn’t figure out why Chase liked the place, but his brother never did care much about impressing people. Or maybe his choice of living quarters had more to do with keeping a low profile.
Two busted streetlights made the area a bit darker than normal. Frank turned off the engine and looked in all directions. He stepped out of his car and walked briskly to the glass door, which creaked loudly when he pulled it open. Frank mechanically wiped sweat from his mustache and beard onto his pants. He barely glanced at the overly worn sofas in the lobby as he hurried toward the stairwell.
“Hey, nose-candy king! Where you going?”
Just as Frank turned, he felt the full force of a fist in his side. Another punch followed, sending him reeling to the floor. A hand grabbed him by the neck, pounded his head against the worn carpet, and held him there. Frank struggled to turn his head and to focus on the assailant, who sported a two-day growth of beard and a scarred left cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out a slightly built black man standing in the shadows, watching without expression.
The man with the scar tightened his grip, flattening Frank’s face. “I said, where you going, Macklin?”
“I, uh, uh …” Frank coughed, struggling for an answer. He coughed again, saliva flowing from his mouth. “I’m not Chase. I’m his brother! I’m looking for him too!”
The next punch to his side knocked the wind out of him. Frank tried to breathe. Suddenly he felt his right arm being twisted forcefully behind his back. “Listen, Chase!” the man yelled. “You want us to be easy on you? All you have to do is tell us your contact. I’ll make sure you get off with minimum time.”
“Who are you guys? I’m not Chase! I’m his brother!”
The man took him by the hair, pulling his head back. “Listen, punk—”
Broken Lies Page 2