by W B Dineen
I’ve never heard this story and was under the impression my dad got both his undergraduate and advanced degrees from Caltech, but what do I know? I was only his daughter.
Duncan continues to talk about my dad’s incredible intelligence, but he also relays what a kind and involved person he was. When he moved back to Albany, Theo spent many of his days working on the carousel the town was building. Apparently, some of the senior population dreamed up the idea of constructing a museum-quality carousel in town in hopes of helping to rebuild the lagging economy after the paper mill closed. It took them ten years. My dad was one of the carvers.
The next person to speak is Barb, from the funeral parlor. “The Hawks family lived next door to mine growing up. Theo and I played, learned how to ride bikes, and even caught our first fish together. After the unfortunate fire that killed his parents during his second year at Berkeley, we didn’t see him again.” She takes a moment to wipe her eyes. “I can’t express how thrilled Jim and I were the day we ran into him in town and found out he’d moved back. He’s been a very special part of our lives and community ever since. He will be dearly missed.”
So, my grandparents really are dead. It’s almost a relief to hear, as it’s one of the few truths that’s been shared with me. I’d never heard they died in a fire, though. The story I was told was that they were killed in a car accident during a rain storm. Why in the world couldn’t I even know the truth about their demise?
The more people who come forward to share their feelings and memories of my dad, the more I wish I could have actually known him. It sounds like he was a truly extraordinary person. All of a sudden, I’m pissed off. I was his flesh and blood, his child. How can these people, who I’ve never even met, mourn someone who wouldn’t even let me be a part of his life?
A man who seems remarkably out of place, almost foreign looking, stands up and walks to the podium. He wears a rumpled suit coat and has a broad face, hinting at an Eastern European origin. He clears his throat and looks at the casket before staring out at the mourners. There are rustling noises behind me, and without turning around, I can imagine people shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
Finally, with a definite accent, he declares, “Theodore Hawks was an enigma. He was extremely intelligent and inquisitive, which drove him to try to solve the mysteries of the universe. He was social and friendly, yet he was also private and secretive. Theodore was a selfish bastard, and I can’t say I’m sorry he’s dead.”
With those parting words, he strides down the aisle toward the exit. I turn to Jake for clarification. The look on his face is dark and unreadable and I realize he knows who this man is.
CHAPTER 15
After the funeral, Jake introduces me to people as Theo’s daughter. They pay their respects accordingly, although some seem a little reserved. I assume they’re wondering why they’ve never met me before. I’m not sure if they knew I even existed.
I’m asked repeatedly if I know the man who claims to be glad Theo’s dead. I answer truthfully that I don’t.
After a mere thirty minutes, Jake makes our excuses. He and are I are going to the burial site for a private interment. I’m relieved I won’t be surrounded by strangers when my dad’s body is laid to rest. I imagine it’s going to be one of those defining moments in life and I really don’t want to be on stage for it.
When we get into his truck, Jake smiles and compliments, “You did really well in there. How are you holding up?”
I don’t know how to answer. To be honest, I’m not doing great. I’m rather traumatized and angry. I imagine Jake knows this, so I merely shrug my shoulders.
We continue to drive in silence across the bridge and through the countryside as rain pummels us. It’s as though the heavens have opened up to express my emotions for me. We head in the direction of Theo’s house, but Jake passes our turn and continues further down the road. He eventually pulls into a makeshift parking area of very small, secluded cemetery.
There’s a green privacy tent erected around a fresh hole in the ground about thirty yards from us. After we park, Jake jogs around the truck and opens my door. Clearly, I’m about to ruin my favorite shoes mucking through the tall grass that leads to our destination. It seems a petty worry in light of the current situation.
Time seems to slow down as I approach my father’s gravesite. My senses are sharper than ever. Each drop of rain that hits exposed skin feels like a bee sting, every birdsong sounds like a scream. The hair at the back of my neck stands on end, almost like a premonition of doom.
As soon as we step into the tent, I see we’re not alone. The party crasher from the funeral is already there standing over the hole where my dad’s coffin must have been transported while we were talking to fellow mourners. What’s he doing here?
Jake grumbles, “Honest to God, Nikolay, what in the hell was that all about?”
Wait, what? Jake really does know this guy. I have an almost overwhelming urge to run. I’m pretty sure I won’t get very far in my current footwear, but given this guy’s less-than-spectacular speech at my dad’s funeral, suddenly I’m not so sure I’m safe where I am.
The man wishing death on Theo senses my distress and turns to me. A chill shoots from the base of my neck to the tips of my toes, as he takes my hands in his giant paws. In a thick Russian accent, he croons, “Ah, dorogaya moya, I’m sorry if I caused you any distress at dear Theo’s funeral. It was not my intention.”
Jake turns around and closes the flaps on the tent, so we’re now completely private. I can’t help but wonder if it’s so there are no witnesses to observe them drop my lifeless body in the hole conveniently located next to us.
Jake faces the interloper. “I thought we decided you weren’t going to show up today?”
Nikolay shifts his weight between feet. “You decided. I was never in agreement.”
“Have you opened the casket yet?”
Holy crap, now I wonder if they’re going to shove me in the casket with Theo and bury us together. Between you, me, and the lamppost, I’m pretty sure I’m moments away from soiling my tights.
Nikolay turns to face me. “Sweet Kate, you are safe. Jake and I were your father’s closest friends. No one is going to hurt you.”
Jake looks at me in surprise and demands, “You’re afraid? Of what?” Then he looks from the Russian to the hole in the ground before laughing.
I want to say, “Of course I’m not afraid, don’t be ridiculous.” What I settle on is, “It seems a prudent reaction, given the circumstances.”
Jake chuckles again. “Kate, this is Nikolay Akulov. He’s known your father since Berkeley. He could never wish death on him unless Theo was beating the pants off him in chess. Then all bets are off.”
“What was that all about at the funeral then?” I demand.
Nikolay smiles broadly. “I was setting a trap, dorogaya moya.”
“For who?” I inquire.
Jake answers, “For whomever is responsible for Theo going missing.”
“Missing?” I ask. “What do you mean, missing? I thought he was dead.”
“That is very possible, Kate,” Nikolay answers. “We haven’t heard from Theodore in several days. The plan was that should he disappear, young Jake here would announce his death and go forth with his funeral posthaste.”
He continues, “While chances are good he has already been killed, there’s also a possibility he’s been taken for information. If he’s been able to hold off telling everything he knows, he’ll be kept alive until he’s done so.”
I stammer, “Wh-what’s in the coffin, then?”
Jake announces, “That’s what we’re here to find out.” He opens an umbrella that turns out not to be an umbrella at all. Instead it’s an extension pole with a hook on the end. He pulls it apart and snaps it together. Then he lies down on the ground and proceeds to drop it down the hole next to the casket. I hear the lock click open as the first shots ring out.
CHAPTER 16
; There are a multitude of firsts you never forget in life: the first time you ride your bike without training wheels, the loss of your first tooth, your first kiss. I can now add the first time I was shot at. Not only did I never expect to be on the business end of a gun, but if I were forced to predict the most probable location if I were, I would have guessed the 405 during rush hour, not standing by my father’s pretend grave, in the middle of Oregon, next to two strangers. Seriously, my imagination is not that good.
Nikolay pushes us into the standard six-foot-deep hole immediately after we hear the first crack of gunfire. Both men pull out weapons of their own and are ready to fire back should the opportunity present itself. I’m pretty sure my game plan is to faint and play dead. Hey, if it works in the face of a grizzly bear attack, maybe it’ll work now.
What’s weird is that my life actually flashes before my eyes like some predictable Hollywood movie. I don’t know if it’s an adrenaline reaction or what, but boom, boom, boom, images from all kinds of random events fly through my head like a PowerPoint presentation on crack: my first day of school, piano recitals, prom, college dorm rooms. The scenes come so fast and furious I barely recognize what they are before it’s on to the next.
Then the flap of the tent flies open and I let out an involuntary squeak. In addition to not being a fainter, I do not squeak. Ever. Squeaking is for delicate, weak women. What’s happening to me?
I fantasize I can hit some kind of cosmic pause button, jump out of this hole, and run to safety before being gunned down. Suddenly I wish I’d gotten married, had a baby, and maybe even a bought mini-van.
Now I know I’ve gone insane. The real Kate Randolph would be mourning the fact she never took the time to learn how to skydive or see the Galapagos Islands. Terror does not look good on me.
I don’t even have the courage to look up and stare death in the face. I have my head tucked between my knees like I’m doing a little yoga. It isn’t until I hear Jake say, “Thank God. Did you see who it was?” before I look up.
I sneak a peek and discover a tall, red-haired woman in a dark trench coat standing there. She’s not beautiful, but there’s a certain quality about her that suggests she could be if she tried. Both Jake and Nikolay seem to know her.
She announces, “No, I scared them away. I wanted to make sure you were all okay.” She explains, “Theodore left me a message suggesting I come to the grave site. He wanted to make sure you got everything you needed.” I assume she’s talking about whatever my dad left in the coffin.
Nikolay stands up first. “I’m getting too old for this kind of adventure.” He looks at Jake and laments, “I’m not getting out of here on my own. I need you to give me a leg up.”
Seemingly unruffled by the recent excitement, Jake clasps his hands together for his friend to step on. He easily hoists him up until the older man can get a knee on the ground. The strange woman takes it from there.
Jake helps me next before effortlessly pulling himself out. The woman asks, “Was there anything in the coffin?”
I interrupt her, “Who are you?”
She smiles, “My name is Trina. I am a friend of your fathers.” She shares a look with Jake and the Russian that’s not lost on me. It suggests she’s more than Theo’s friend. She looks to be about my age, so she can’t be part of the reason my dad left us, but that isn’t to say there isn’t something going on with them now.
Also, there’s a cadence in her speech that suggests she’s not a native English speaker. She doesn’t have an obvious accent, but the rhythm of her words and lack of contraction usage seems off.
I have so many questions and am about to demand some answers when Jake reaches down and opens the casket lid with his hooked pole. There’s a small box inside. He grabs it by the handle and pulls it up.
Trina peeks out of the tent. “The coast appears to be clear.” Then she hands him a set of keys. “Take my car. Hopefully, you will not be spotted as quickly.” Then she turns to me. “Kate, I left some music in the car I thought you might find useful. Your father told me all about your work with autistic children.”
As much as I want to know more about this woman, and why she’s caught up in this intrigue, I realize I’m not going to get any answers right now. So, I decide to be gracious and thank her. “That’s very nice of you.”
Nikolay steps out of the way. “I’ll stay with Trina.” Then he says, “You children be safe.”
Jake grabs my hand and carefully pulls the tent flap back. He scans the landscape before sprinting in the direction of the car, dragging me along with him. I’m pretty darn fit, but I’m not a runner. I like to joke that the only way I’ll run is if I’m being chased with a knife. I discover that potentially being shot at is the same kind of motivator. Even with the mud and heels, I’m able to keep up with Jake, although I do lose one of my shoes at some point.
As soon as we climb into Trina’s blue sedan, Jake advises me to get into the backseat and lie down. I don’t ask why, I just do as he instructs. Before I can even buckle my seatbelt, we’re off. It feels like we’re going two hundred miles an hour before the car comes to a screeching halt. He pulls off the road and lets out a shrill whistle. I peek up to see Buddy running for all he’s worth right toward us. As soon as the dog jumps in, Jake slams the door and we speed down the country road trying to evade whoever is pursuing us.
CHAPTER 17
For some reason Paula Cole’s “Where Have all the Cowboys Gone?” runs through my head. I haven’t thought about that song in years. In truth, I forced it out of my brain after that horrible summer when Bethanie seemed to play nothing else on our stereo.
But now, lying in the back of a stranger’s car, snuggling my dad’s super wet dog, barreling down the road like Bonnie and Clyde after a heist, it pops into my head like I’m front row center at a concert. In other words, loudly.
I finally ask Jake, “What’s Trina got to do with all this?”
“She works with your dad on some research he’s doing.” This is the first I’ve heard of Theo doing any research, but I don’t ask about it. I figure like everything else, I’ll be told when someone else deems it the appropriate time.
“Where are we going?”
His answer is unexpected. “California. We need to get you to safety. Hopefully, that’ll do the trick.”
“Hopefully? What does that mean? Whoever’s after you isn’t after me. I have nothing to do with any of this.”
“You’re Theo’s daughter. This has everything to do with you.”
Damn. “What if I’d never come to Oregon?”
“Then you’d already be safe in California and none the wiser.”
I rub Buddy’s damp fur with a blanket sitting on the seat next to me. “Aren’t we going to stop at Theo’s house to get our stuff?”
I see him roll his eyes in the rearview mirror. “No, Kate, we’re not. At this point I’m not sure we’re ever going back to his house. We don’t know who was shooting at us and we don’t know where they currently are.”
The thought makes me inexplicably sad. I didn’t get a chance to look through all of my dad’s things. Plus, I liked his house. I could feel him around me.
“Are we going to my place?”
“Maybe,” he answers evasively. “Maybe not. We have to wait to hear from Nikolay.”
“Jake, I think you should tell me what’s going on. I have a right to know after almost getting killed.”
He’s quiet for several moments before releasing a frustrated growl. “You do have a right to know. The problem is, the more you know, the more danger you’re in. I’m not sure I have the right to make that decision for you.”
I want to call Jen but realize I don’t have my phone on me. Not thinking I’d need it for the short time I’d be at the burial, I left it in my purse in Jake’s car. “Can I use your phone?”
“Who in the world do you want to call right now?”
“My sister.” For the first time, I’m truly grateful Jen didn’t c
ome with me. I’d hate myself for putting her in danger.
“I don’t think you should contact her until we come up with a game plan about what you’re going to say.”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not going to tell her what happened if that’s what you’re worried about. I just want to hear her voice.” And I really do. I feel like I need some touchstone of normalcy to help me regain my equilibrium. There’s nothing like finding out your father might not really be dead, combined with getting shot at, to knock you off your game.
Jake agitatedly taps the steering wheel. “Calling your sister might put her in danger. I need to think about this, and I need to talk to Nikolay.”
Suddenly, I realize I’ve lost all control over my own life. Sweet Jesus, what have I gotten myself involved in? All I wanted was to get some closure, but now I wonder if I’ll ever get my life back.
CHAPTER 18
I ask Jake to turn on the music Trina left for me. While I’m really not that interested in hearing it, I find I don’t want to sit silently with my thoughts. That seems to be building to a panic.
The music turns out to be an orchestral piece. The strange thing is, I can’t readily identify the instruments. I use a lot of classical music in my work and I can immediately isolate a myriad of different tones. Yet, I have no idea if I’m hearing a violin, piano, or flute. It’s almost like the composition is being playing on instruments I’ve never heard before. The melody is haunting, but it’s also strangely invigorating and uplifting. It’s like it’s altering something in my brain.
At that moment I have another flashback of my dad. We’re lying in the grass in our back yard and he asks, “What color is the sky, Katydid?”
I giggle at such an easy question. “Silly, Daddy. The sky is blue, of course!”
He smiles mysteriously. “Is it really or do you just think it is?”
“It’s really blue, cause my eyes tell me it’s blue.” In my child thinking, seeing was enough to believe.