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Cross Roads

Page 22

by William Paul Young


  “Apple pie? I love homemade apple pie. What’s the occasion?”

  Tony could tell that Maggie was trying not to grin, a unique combination of emotions rising inside her. “Oh, don’t tell me. You’re baking for the policeman, aren’t you?”

  She waved her hand and laughed. “Yup, he’s heading over here after shift for a little dessert. We’ve been talking on the phone a lot since you left. He finds me”—she waved her hands like a debutante—“rather mysterious. Just so you know, if I end up kissing him, it will be by accident, and in the moment I will have forgotten about you. Just sayin’. I will truly try not to, but… you know.”

  “Great!” sighed Tony, wondering what it would be like to exist as a Ping-Pong ball bouncing between souls.

  Maggie talked as she scraped the flour into the sink and then moved from place to place gathering essentials for her mother’s apple pie. “I learned more about you in twenty minutes at the hospital than you told me in all the time you were around inside my head. I was really mad at you for a while, hurting your family like that. Your wife, your ex-wife, is a doll; and that daughter of yours, she’s remarkable and despite everything she still loves you, behind all that fury. And Tony, I’m sorry about Gabriel, really sorry.” She paused. “And what’s with you and Jake? That’s one piece I don’t understand yet.”

  “Maggie, slow down,” interrupted Tony. “I’ll answer your questions at some point, but we need to talk about some other things first.”

  Maggie stopped her work and looked out the window. “You mean, like being able to heal someone? Tony, that burned me good, getting me to go up there, watching me love on my Lindsay just so you could get me to lay hands on your sorry…”

  “Please forgive me for that, Maggie,” entreated Tony. “But I didn’t know what else to do, and I thought that if I could just get well I could help a lot of people and maybe even rebuild some of the damage I’ve caused. I know it was totally selfish—”

  “Tony, stop!” She held up her hand. “It was me that was being selfish, thinking only about what was hurting in my life, what I wanted to have fixed. Not many years ago I lost some precious people in my life, and I just didn’t want to lose another one. I have no right to expect you to use your gift to heal Lindsay. I was wrong, so please forgive me?”

  “Uh, forgive you?” Tony was surprised and strangely comforted by her request.

  “Yeah, we need to get up there, Tony, and pray the healing prayer over you before those machines run outta gas, and we need to do it sooner than later. Like I said, in the last couple days you’ve been slipping deeper and the doctors don’t think you’re coming back.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about this healing gift, Maggie—”

  “Well, I’m sure you have. But you cannot leave your estate to cats!” She stopped fork-mixing her pie dough and picked up a wooden spoon. “Cats! Now that is one of the nuttiest things I have ever heard. A zebra maybe or a whale or those cute baby seals, but cats?” She shook her head. “Lord have mercy, givin’ away hard-earned cash to cats.”

  “Yeah, pretty dumb,” he agreed.

  “Well, let’s get you healed so you can fix that little dumbness.” She was waving her spoon in the direction of the window as she spoke.

  “I’ve been thinking, Maggie—”

  “Tony, you have every right to heal yourself. God gave you that gift so God must trust you with it, and if you decide that healing yourself is the best way to go, I am here to support you 100 percent. Not my place to tell people how to run their lives. I already spend more than my share of energy just judging them… which,” she continued as she waved her spoon again, now covered in flour and butter, “I am trying not to do so much, but it’s a process, I know, and sometimes, I confess, I probably enjoy judging a little too much. I get feeling all superior and think there are certain people who could use a little judging and I just happen to be the one who might can do it best. See, Tony? We are all messes of one sort or another. I’m done with my preaching. What do you think?”

  “You make me grin, that’s what I think,” answered Tony.

  “Well, then my life is complete.” Maggie chuckled. “Seriously, getting a wedding band from Clarence, then maybe my life would be complete, no offense.”

  “None taken.” Tony laughed. “Maggie, I have an idea about how to fix the cat dumbness, but we’re going to need some help. The fewer people the better, and I’m thinking Jake because I don’t think we have a choice, and Clarence because he’s a cop and he’ll make sure we do it right.”

  “Tony, you’re scaring me a bit. We pulling a heist or something? Those things never seem to go very well. I watch the movies.”

  “It’s not a heist exactly.”

  “Exactly? I’m not feeling much better. Is it illegal?”

  “Good question. Not sure, sorta gray I think. If I’m not dead yet, I don’t think it’s illegal.”

  “And you want to get my Clarence involved in all this?”

  “It’s the only way, Maggie.”

  “Honey, I don’t want to get Clarence mixed up in this. I’d rather let the cats win.”

  “Maggie, we have to.”

  “You know I can walk outside and kiss some stray dog, or maybe a cat would be preferable, since you are so stupid for them.”

  “It’s never really been about the cats, Maggie. It’s about me. Please trust me on this. We need Clarence’s help.”

  “Oh, Lord.” Maggie lifted her face to the ceiling.

  “Thanks, Maggie.” Tony continued, “I have a couple issues that I still need to work out. The place we need to get into belongs to me, but no one knows it exists. I set it up for all my private stuff and the security is about as good as it gets. Problem is when the police tried to backtrace the cameras from my condo, my security logged everything off and reset the entry codes, and I can’t get in without them.”

  “And why are you expecting any of this to make sense to me?” asked Maggie.

  “Sorry. Just thinking out loud.”

  “Well, just don’t forget, you thinking out loud is me thinking out loud, and right now what I’m thinking is that I’m confused.”

  “Okay, I have a secret place down by the river off Macadam Avenue, but the codes are all reset and there are only three places that I can get the new codes.”

  “So get them from one of those,” suggested Maggie.

  “It’s a little more complicated than that. A letter with the new code goes to a bank for automatic deposit into a special holding account. That account can only be opened by authorization that is in a safety-deposit box. That box can only be opened if they have a certificate of death.”

  “Bummer!” she pointed out. “Not exactly a good option.”

  “Option two,” he continued, “isn’t much better. When a code resets like that, it generates automatically an express-mail letter that goes to Loree. She has no idea what it is or why it arrives; it just shows up with no explanation at all. It’s sort of a backup of a backup. No one would think my ex-wife would have anything that mattered to me anyway.”

  “Wait!” Maggie interjected. “What does this code look like?”

  “It’s just a series of six one- or two-digit numbers, between one and ninety-nine, that are randomly generated,” he explained.

  “Like lottery numbers?” asked Maggie, washing her hands quickly in the sink.

  “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  “Like these?” Maggie reached for her purse on the hallway hook and rummaged through it. Triumphantly, she produced an express-mail envelope and withdrew its contents. It was a single piece of paper containing six numbers, each in a different color.

  “Maggie,” Tony exclaimed, “that’s it! How in the world did you…”

  “From Loree! I went back up to the hospital to try and help her and Jake with potential arrangements, God rest your soul, and she handed this to me. She said it came just before they left to come here to see you and she stuffed it into her purse on the way out th
e door. The return address is for your office downtown, she said, but she thought it might mean something to me. I told her I had no idea, but she told me to keep it anyway. I was going to ask you about it, but it totally slipped my mind until you just mentioned it.”

  “Maggie, I could kiss you!” Tony yelled.

  “Now that would be a little weird,” she responded. “I wonder what would happen? So this is what you needed?”

  “Yes! This is the entry code. Let me see the date stamp on the front. Yup, that’s it. Wow, this’ll save us a ton of time.”

  “You said there was a third way to get the codes?”

  “Won’t need that now. The code is sent electronically to a special keypad that is in my downtown office. Only I know the access code for that keypad, and I thought we might have to go visit the folks where I work under some pretense to sit at my desk. Given he’s my brother, I was thinking that Jake might be allowed to be alone in there.”

  “Yeah, but that would have meant…”

  “I know, you would have had to kiss him, and this all is pretty complicated already. Now we won’t even have to involve Jake.” He felt a rush of relief. “Which brings me to my second issue.” He paused before asking, “What is your take on Jake?”

  “Oh, you mean Jacob Aden Xavier Spencer, your brother?”

  Tony was surprised, again. “How did you find out his full name?”

  “Clarence pulled a sheet on him. He has a record, you know, not anything major, mostly breaking and entering to support a drug habit a bunch of years ago. Served a nickel in Texas…”

  “Nickel? Who says ‘nickel’?”

  “Honey, you don’t know my history either or my family heritage, so mind your p’s and q’s.”

  “My apologies. Please, go on,” he encouraged, grinning again.

  “Yesterday I spent a couple hours with Jake up at the hospital. He talked a lot about you. Don’t know if you know this, but he worships the ground you walk on. He told me you were the only reason he’s alive. You protected him growing up when everything went crazy. Then you got separated and he got in with a bad crowd, got hooked, and was too ashamed to contact you until he got clean. You are as close to any sense of father that he’s ever known, and he is the loser brother, the failure, the addict.”

  Tony listened quietly, emotions again surfacing that he hadn’t prepared for.

  “Tony, he’s clean. Got set up with NA and rehab and Jesus. He’s been clean almost six years. Went back to school between part-time jobs and graduated with a degree from Warner Pacific College here in the city. He’s been working for something called the Portland Leadership Foundation and saving money. Jake was waiting until he could afford his own place and trying to build up enough courage to contact you when the police called him. Tony, he cried. He wanted you to be proud of him, probably more than anything else in the world. He feels like he missed his chance to tell you. But we’ll get you healed and he can tell you himself. He really needs to hear from you that he matters to you.”

  Tony waited in the silence, struggling to regain his composure. “So,” he began, “Maggie, what I need to know is, do you trust him? Do you trust Jake? Do you think the changes in him are real?”

  She could feel the weight of his questions, the sense of importance that he was giving them, and she thought carefully before speaking.

  “I do, Tony. I do. Everything in me tells me that your brother is smart and solid, works hard, and I would trust him with Cabby and Lindsay, and that is saying everything, coming from me.”

  “That’s all I needed to know, Maggie, ’cause I trust you, and if you trust Jake that is more than good enough for me. Thank you!”

  She could hear in his voice that there was more to the story but didn’t push it. Tony would tell her when he was ready.

  “It is an honor to be trusted, Tony.”

  “You are among the very first, for me,” Tony added. “That means more than I can begin to tell you.”

  “Faith takes risk, Tony, and there is always risk in relationships, but bottom line? The world has no meaning apart from relationships. Some are just messier than others, some are seasonal, others are difficult, and a few are easy, but every one of them is important.”

  She slid her pie into the oven, doubled-checked the temperature, and turned to make a cup of tea.

  “Just so you know, Tony, everybody has met everybody, your side and mine. Just thought you might like to know.”

  “Thank you, Maggie. Thanks for making that happen.”

  “You are welcome, Mr. Tony.”

  “Why’d you call me that… Mr. Tony?” he asked, surprised.

  “Don’t know,” Maggie answered. “Just felt right. Why?”

  “Nothing really. I met a little girl who called me that. It just reminded me of her, I guess.”

  “Children!” Maggie laughed. “They are able to sneak into places that we would never let others near.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” agreed Tony.

  While the pie baked the two bantered back and forth like an old married couple, the conversation light but meaningful.

  Only moments after a perfect-looking apple pie was taken out of the oven, Molly and Cabby burst into the house, both in good spirits. Cabby rushed his Maggie-buddy and gave her a bear hug, then leaned into her heart and whispered, “Tah-ny… sun-dy!” and giggled before running down the hallway and into his room.

  “That kid,” commented Tony, “he’s something else.”

  “Sure is,” agreed Maggie. “What was that all about?”

  “Just a conversation we had a while back. He knows when I’m here, you know?”

  “That boy knows a lotta things.”

  Molly emerged from her bathroom, a smile on her face like the best colors of a sunset, and gave Maggie a big hug.

  “Good news?” Maggie inquired.

  “About Lindsay? Not really. Pretty much the same.” She lowered her voice. “Is Tony here?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Hey, Tony. Spent a bunch of time with your family today, especially Angela. We hit it off big-time, actually more like her and Cabby hit it off. She is an absolute gift, your girl.”

  “He says, ‘Thank you,’ ” replied Maggie, even before Tony had said anything.

  “And…” Molly grinned. “I am kinda liking getting to know your brother, Jake. He took me up to visit you today and I gotta say, Jake’s the better looking of the two of you.”

  “He says it’s because he’s sick,” Maggie translated.

  “That must be it.” Molly laughed as she opened the fridge to rummage for leftovers for her and Cabby.

  “There’s plenty of pie, Molly, for you and Cabby.”

  “Wonderful. We’ll have it for dessert. I’ll be right back. I promised Cabby that he could eat his supper in the backyard and I have it ready.”

  At that moment the doorbell rang, followed by three sharps raps. No one would have found it significant except Tony and it made him grin. It probably was neither Jack nor Jesus, he surmised.

  It was Clarence, waiting with a warm smile and embrace for Maggie. The flood of contentment that enveloped her was enough to make Tony close his eyes for a moment and then breathe deeply. There was so much he had missed out on or lost because of his walls.

  “I’m not kissin’ you,” whispered Maggie. “You know who’s here.”

  Clarence laughed. “Well, you just let me know when he’s gone and we’ll make up for it.”

  “I’ve got you on speed dial,” Maggie said and chuckled.

  “Wow, what is that I smell?” exclaimed Clarence. “Fresh-baked apple pie, and it smells just like my momma used to make. You got any ice cream?”

  “Of course, Tillamook ’nilla okay?”

  “Perfect!” He sat at the table while Maggie prepared apple pie à la mode. “If I hang around you, I’m going to have to start working out double, but if it tastes like it smells, it’ll be worth it.”

  Maggie handed him a dish with more th
an generous portions and a big spoon, and waited for him to take the first bite. Clarence was up to the challenge and responded in childlike delight. “Maggie, this is spectacular. I hate to admit it, but it might even be better than my momma’s.”

  She beamed.

  “You two are kinda makin’ me sick,” interjected Tony. “All this mushy-gushy… barf!”

  Maggie grinned. “Tony says hi.”

  “Hey, Tony.” Clarence, addressing Maggie, grinned back. He took another bite, chewing it more deliberately, savoring the flavors.

  “Hi, Clarence.” Molly returned from Cabby’s picnic and gave the officer a hug, retrieving her plate from the counter and sitting down with the others. “What’s going on?”

  “Your timing is perfect,” said Maggie, dishing up her own bowl of pie and ice cream. “We were just about to get into that.”

  Clarence turned again to Maggie and spoke in a more serious tone. “Tony I have a big favor to ask you.”

  “He says, ‘Good,’ ’cause he has a big favor to ask you, too.”

  “Maybe,” Tony wondered aloud, “you should just kiss Clarence so that I can explain what I want without all the interpreting. Might make it easier.”

  “You kidding me?” retorted Maggie. “And leave me outta the loop? No way! As much as the idea of kissing Clarence appeals to me at the moment, I will wait, thank you. If you two are going to be scheming about stuff, I’m going to be in on it. Go ahead, Clarence.”

  Clarence began. “Tony, I really have no right to ask you what I am going to ask you, and I don’t even know if it’s in the realm of possibility, so before I tell you anything, please know that I don’t have expectations that you will do this. The favor you want from me is in no way contingent on your doing anything for me. Are we clear?”

  “He says, ‘Crystal,’ but you should probably wait and see what his favor is first.”

  “I don’t really care what it is.” Clarence continued, “If Maggie is in, I’m in.” He paused again. “Is it illegal?”

 

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