Painless

by Derek Ciccone

  “You mean my fictional manuscript?”

  Dana shrugged guilty shoulders.

  “You were just worried about Carolyn. That’s all any of us are doing,” Billy said.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Dana offered.

  “What’s done is done.”

  “I mean about what happened in D.C. I understand why you did what you did, and I might have done the same thing if I were in your situation. I know the whole truth, so what’s the harm in talking about it?”

  He just shook his head no.

  She nodded as if she understood. “Well, if you ever do, I’m here.”

  “Do you want to talk about what that keep hope alive stuff means?”

  “No.”

  He smiled ruefully. “Then I guess all we have to talk about is this fine mess we find ourselves in.”

  In the short time he’d known her, Billy had never seen Dana looking so vulnerable. He put his arm around her. They had developed intimacy force fields over the years, so the moment felt unnatural.

  “We have to be strong for Carolyn,” he said.

  “And Beth and Chuck,” she added, her eyes filling with despair.

  “We’re going to find them, I promise.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?” she asked with a skeptical look.

  “We have the element of surprise on our side. They don’t know that we know about Jordan, just like they didn’t know about Calvin at the cabin. They have been the aggressors this whole time, using fear to keep us on our heels. But now, we are going to be the aggressors, and make a surprise visit to Dr. Jordan’s office. I have a feeling when we threaten to expose him, he will be willing to hand Chuck and Beth over.”

  He hoped.

  “We can’t give Carolyn up under any circumstances,” she replied, her face still full of doubt.

  He nodded. It was understood. Nor could they go to the police. “We’re up against some heavy duty artillery here. It seems like they can get to us anywhere and anytime. According to Calvin, they were behind the situation in Iran. For all we know, the government might be involved. Who knows how far and wide this thing reaches.”

  “Albany is the last place they expect us right now. Scared people run, so we bought some time, but not much,” Dana said, sounding more like Jack Bauer than Dana Boulanger. “So we need to get out of here first thing in the morning.”

  Billy took a long look at her. Without her facade of motion, he was able to get a clear look at her for the first time. He always knew she was attractive, but never noticed how really beautiful she was. Something twanged inside him. He knew he was a long way from ever being able to give his heart away, but for the first time in a long time he felt a twinge of hope that one day he could. Keep hope alive.

  “Tell me everything leading up to Chuck and Beth disappearing,” he said.

  Dana again recounted the Hasenfus visit to her office, including the pictures of Kelly. She paused, as if giving him the opportunity to defend the photos, but he refused to deny hitting Kelly, or talk about it at all. Dana then detailed her trip to the barn, finding Beth’s BlackBerry and a package from Evelyn, but no Chuck or Beth.

  Billy took the Evelyn package into his hands. “Why didn’t you open it?”

  It was intended for Beth. Why would I open it?”

  “What if Evelyn saw something, but she was afraid? Maybe she left a clue for you camouflaged as a package.”

  Dana rolled her tired eyes. “Knock yourself out. But if it’s a cow sweater, you’re the one who’s going to be wearing it.”

  He tore the package open, the ripping sound being drowned out by a loud plane taking off overhead. Contents spilled out on the table. A handwritten letter lay on top.

  Dana grabbed the letter and said, “That’s my mom’s writing.”

  She began to read.

  Chapter 59

  My beloved Beth (you know I prefer to call you Elizabeth, but I know you hate that),

  As I write this you are six years old. First grade—wow—and how smart you are. I know we will not be able to keep the truth from you forever. And that’s what worries me, Beth. The truth could be very harmful to you, and I never want to see that big gap-toothed smile wiped off your face. Or your fearlessness, or wonderment, or even your unbreakable will (stubbornness I admit, but you see, I am very biased when it comes to you.)

  You have been with us for two years now and it has become quite obvious that your mother, father, and brother will not be able to return to your life. I pray every day that they will, not that I don’t selfishly want to hold you close to me forever, quite the opposite, but there are days when a girl really needs her mother. They were so proud of you—you have to trust me on that one. It’s important that you know this.

  So let me get to what happened. I’m stalling, I know! If you are reading this, Beth, then I am no longer in this world. My hope is that I am around long enough to tell you in person when you are old enough. You see, I was diagnosed with a little heart thing today. It was nothing really, but it made me think to write you this letter in case I’m not around. It is important that you are prepared for the danger that lurks out there, endangering your sweetness.

  You were not abandoned, Beth, as you’ve been led to believe. Your mother gave you to me because you were in danger, and she would do anything to protect you. I am not even completely sure why, but people are after your family. Your mother was a student of mine at Siena who I grew close to, always my downfall as a professor, and then post-grad she became my assistant. We worked together up until I left Siena and moved to Greenwich. And I take it as a great honor that she would entrust me with the most precious thing in her life. I will include some of the correspondence between your mother and me, so that you know for sure, and have proof of how much she loved you. The only person who knows, besides your parents and myself, is your new grandmother, Beverly. Not Tom, not Dana or your new brothers, not anyone.

  On Christmas Day almost two years ago, your mother had come to New York to meet with a doctor about your brother’s condition. Many strange events were occurring and she had become suspicious that people were after them. So she asked me if I would take care of you if anything “happened.” I saw the fear in her eyes, and I had known Carol Ann to be honest to a fault, so I didn’t hesitate. I wanted to keep it as quiet as possible, but I had to exchange some of the publicity of the “Abandoned Child” in order to make your story believable. I held my breath that the local media coverage wouldn’t spread the story beyond our little place of the earth and blow your cover. Your parents were the most honorable people I know. Giving you up was a sacrifice of great unselfishness, not the other way around. They would never abandon you.

  As I write this letter, I am watching you run around our living room. Your smile is lighting up the room, as it always does. I promised you that we would go to the park as soon as I am done with this letter. You are growing quite impatient. Your sister Dana just arrived home from high school cheerleading practice and you should see the big hug she gave you. You are so lucky to have each other. As we are so lucky to have been blessed with you—our angel! You have come into my life at a time when I have been forced to give up my love—teaching—and I’m questioning my choice in marriage. I hope you are old enough to understand such concepts when you read this, and that you and Dana find someone who will love you for who you are, unconditionally. I had become numb, wandering through life not wanting to wake up the fates. But when you came into my life, my heart burned again, and suddenly felt the bittersweet combination of love and pain that makes up this crazy thing called life. On that note, I will now end this letter and take you and Dana to the park. My girls, may you stay safe forever!

  Love always,

  Mrs. B

  Dana exploded into tears. Billy tried to comfort her, but it was obvious she needed to alone with her mangled emotions, so he let her be. Beth was sent to meet Mrs. B, just as Joe Skaggs had told him on the train, but it had nothing to do with selling
her on the black market. Billy studied the other materials that accompanied the letter, picking up a family photo that doubled as a Christmas card. Seasons Greetings from The Penningtons, it read. Steve, Carol Ann, Nathan and Beth. Her real name was Beth Pennington.

  It was impossible not to see the resemblances. Carol Ann, Beth’s mother, was a carbon copy of the grown-up Beth. The short strawberry blonde hair, freckled nose, and stern look. The father, Steve Pennington, was a sturdy man who stood beside his family like the protector. The young Beth in the photo was an eerie clone of Carolyn, her fairer hair the only difference. As he viewed the photo, Billy thought his mind was doing tricks on him.

  His eyes then focused on a young boy, probably eight or nine years old. Half his face was severely burned, while the other half was unscathed. He remembered Beth telling him that the other children cruelly called him E.T., after the popular movie of the time about an alien. Billy knew what was wrong with the boy. And he wasn’t an alien.

  Billy sifted through the numerous photos and correspondences. He was intrigued by the level of paranoia in Carol Ann’s writings. Government conspiracies, something was wrong, didn’t trust the doctors, etc. In one letter she mentioned a Dr. Dash Naqui, who she planned to meet on that infamous Christmas Day. Mrs. B had hidden the correspondences all these years, so presumably nobody was aware of Naqui to check him out. Billy wrote down the name in his reporter notebook.

  Billy was sure it was all connected. He was convinced that Beth’s brother, Nathan, had CIPA. Beth didn’t have it, but was a carrier. Operation Anesthesia was not new. When he thought about it, Calvin was maybe sixteen, and said he was born at the Anesthesia camp. So it was very plausible that the government conspiracy Carol Ann talked of in her letters, was to kidnap Nathan, just like they were now trying to capture Carolyn.

  But it didn’t answer all his questions. What happened to the rest of the Penningtons? Was Nathan captured, or was he hidden at a safe-house like Beth? What happened to her parents—Carol Ann and Steve Pennington? As far as he knew, Debi Edelstein was the last person to see them, when she witnessed them put their four-year-old daughter on a train and send her like a Christmas gift to Mrs. B. The real Polar Express.

  As Billy shoved the contents back into the envelope, he noticed Carol Ann Pennington’s return address written on the upper corner of one of the envelopes she sent to Mrs. B. It was 1154 East Lyndon Street in Schenectady. The place where this story began over twenty years ago.

  Billy knew that all great stories begin with a bad beginning, before the characters rise from ashes—overcome great odds—endure great tragedy. All leading to a mercurial rise toward a triumphant end. Billy realized that for this story to have a good ending, they would have to start at the bad beginning.

  Chapter 60

  TGIF—Thank God it’s Friday.

  That’s what Billy remembered his co-workers at Klein’s Beer mindlessly humming around the cubicled office on Fridays. They didn’t thank their chosen holy savior for the gift of life or eternal salvation. They thanked God for two measly days off before they returned back on Monday.

  But as Billy reviewed his week, he believed its symbolic end was worthy of praising a deity. It all began last Sunday when an intruder was spotted at the Whitcomb house, and concluded on Thursday night with Carolyn getting shot. And what happened in-between was still hard to grasp. So yes, Billy agreed. Thank God it was Friday.

  Morning came, but the sun never rose. The skies were fall-bleak and looked like it could snow at any moment, even though it was only October. They ate leftover “Chinee” for breakfast, and then Billy and Dana went through the ritual of checking Carolyn’s wounds. To the best of their medical knowledge, which wasn’t much, they looked okay

  Dana wanted to hightail it to North Carolina to speak with Jordan, but conceded that they needed to buy time to figure out a way to get there without being exposed. They were right next to the airport, but Billy knew that was fool’s gold. Going through airport security would be a like putting out a welcome mat for Operation Anesthesia. So to buy time, they would travel to the past.

  Their only choice was to call a cab, and surprisingly, Martin showed up again. They were immediately suspicious, but then he informed them that he was the only driver for Tech Valley Cabs, because he was the owner and was yet to make enough profit to hire any drivers. Using the Calvin Rose philosophy, Billy knew that if Martin worked for Operation Anesthesia, they would already be killed or captured.

  Their first stop on the trip to the bad beginning was Siena College, located in Loudonville, about twenty minutes northeast of Albany. It was also a common denominator of all involved. Mrs. B was a professor there. Beth’s mother, Carol Ann, was Mrs. B’s student, and later her teacher assistant, cementing a relationship that would provide her daughter safe harbor for the last twenty-plus years. Beth, herself, attended as a student. The irony was that she chose to attend school at Siena because of Mrs. B’s influence, but had no idea her own mother had also attended.

  Martin remained in the car as they entered the campus of the small Franciscan college. By this point, it was understood he would wait for them. Dana had brought enough money with her to keep him on retainer for a few more days. They walked across the campus, which was overflowing with immense trees and colored leaves. It appeared to be a typical New England university with classic brick buildings, ivy, and quads that surrounded a large, gold-domed building called Siena Hall. The smell of autumn filled the early morning air. Early-bird students were chatting freely as they scurried to class, holding piles of textbooks under their arms.

  It’s what Billy believed college should be about. Not a community living vicariously through football players who were pretending to be students. It still hit him hard when he thought of the death threats he received when he quit to work on his academics. Death threats because a college student wanted to study more!

  But that didn’t mean he didn’t love college. He did. It was a time of feeling alive. He recently heard a song that celebrated the idea of living like you are dying, in other words, live each day to the fullest because it might be your last. He didn’t find that philosophy very enticing, and it actually sounded pretty depressing. But college was different. It was a time when he lived life like he was never going to die. Living in the moment, convinced he was indestructible. That’s what Billy thought of when he thought of college, and still believed it was the best way to live life.

  Problem was, right now it felt like death was around every corner.

  Another problem was that very few current people at Siena had any remembrance of Mrs. B or Carol Ann Pennington, so their return to college came up empty. The only real accomplishment during their campus visit was adding to Carolyn’s growing college sweatshirt collection, purchasing one with Siena’s colors of green and gold. She badly needed a change of clothing. A forest-fire-smelling, personalized hockey jersey wasn’t the best choice of apparel if they wanted to remain under the radar. Carolyn spent most of the visit negotiating to run around the campus, apparently unaffected by her gunshot wound, but they weren’t letting her out of their sight for even a second.

  With the trip to the past turning out to be another crack in the rear-view mirror, they began looking toward their cloudy future. Dana was able to use her flirting skills to get them into the computer library, where they were able to log onto the Internet without fear of being traced. They researched potential transportation to North Carolina, without much success. Billy also Googled the name of the doctor Carol Ann mentioned in her letters—Dash Naqui. The findings showed Naqui to be quite accomplished, a leading expert in neurological disorders. Billy remembered what Bronson had said when Billy asked him who the trainers work for.

  The doctors.

  Billy knew they were getting low on time, so Dr. Naqui would have to take a number. The first doctor they needed to meet with was Dr. Jordan. Then just before he clicked off the net, something hit him.

  It was something Martin mentioned o
n the way over, while discussing the nuisances of the different cities in the Albany area. He said it was a hard place to fit in as a newcomer like himself, because it’s one of those places that people live from birth to death. “And even when they leave, they always return,” he added.

  “Could it be that simple,” Billy mumbled as he typed the names of Steve and Carol Ann Pennington into a search. Could they have returned to the area?

  He found the names of three Steve Penningtons in the Albany/Schenectady area. Against Dana’s wishes, Billy thought they needed to check them out before heading out of town, no matter how much of a long-shot it was. The first Steve Pennington lived right near Siena, but was a middle-aged black man—a dead end. The second Steve Pennington lived in an apartment near the capital in Albany, but was a college-age student at University of Albany-SUNY, ruling him out.

  Martin then drove them to the final possibility. It was a broken down two-story house on Rockland Drive in Schenectady. The paint was peeling and shutters were missing. As Martin waited, Billy led Dana and Carolyn up the chipped cement stoop and knocked. A middle-aged woman with an out-of-style perm answered.

  Billy’s mind became one of those crime-solving computers that projects aging. “Carol Ann?” he asked.

  The woman made a strange face. “I’m sorry, nobody by that name lives here.”

  Just as the woman began to shut the door, Dana exclaimed, “We are looking for Steve Pennington. Does he live here?”

  The door came open, and they were reluctantly invited in. But they soon found out that this Steve Pennington was a ninety-two year old man suffering from numerous ailments, and the woman was his caretaker. Another dead end.