“Thanks for telling me,” Kristen replied.
“We’re a small family and we always support each other. That’s why we need you to assist us,” her mom said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Buy a ticket in your name at a travel agency tomorrow morning for a flight to San Francisco in the afternoon. Then drive to the Honolulu Airport an hour and a half before her flight. Wait for Jan in a toilet stall with her suitcase on the floor. Jan will enter the restroom, walk into the toilet stall next to you and put her hand under the stall to receive the ticket you bought for her. Then you walk out of the bathroom, leaving the suitcase in your stall for Jan to take. No one would ever know where she ends up after she leaves the island of Oahu, if everything goes smoothly. Don’t say a word to each other in the bathroom,” her dad instructed.
“Whoa. This sounds so James Bond,” Kristen gushed.
“Just pretend you’re a Bond Girl,” her dad joked.
“Dad, really?”
“This isn’t fiction. It’s serious shit,” he reminded her.
“Okay, okay. I’ll do it. Is she gonna stay in San Francisco?”
“No, I’m gonna buy a ticket to Buenos Aires using a fake passport under the name Serena Rico,” Jan chimed in.
“Jan, you better get going and pack your suitcase to drop off at Kristen’s place tonight,” her mom said.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning to go to the drug store, in case I need to buy stuff for the trip,” Jan responded.
Jan walked over to the suitcase on the coffee table and removed the cash.
“One last favor. Could you hide this suitcase for me until I return? Just in case I need to sell some of this stuff for quick money whenever I return,” Jan asked her parents.
Her dad reluctantly agreed to her request just to make her feel better, but he had other intentions in mind after she left. “Sure I’ll take care of it,” he promised.
“Thank you all for your help. I love you,” Jan told everyone. They did a group hug before she left the condo.
Her dad looked into the suitcase and picked up the bong and roach clips, examining them out of curiosity, then threw everything back into the suitcase. He shook his head in disbelief at everything displayed in front of him before picking out the weed, mushrooms, and coke which he took to the bathroom. He lifted the toilet seat, poured the drugs into the bowl and flushed, watching everything disappear in the swirling water. Her dad walked back to the kitchen and grabbed a plastic trash bag from a drawer and dumped the drug paraphernalia from the suitcase into it.
“What are you gonna do with the trash bag?” Jan’s mom asked.
“I’m getting rid of all this stuff. Her fingerprints are on everything.”
He grabbed the trash bag, left the condo for the parking garage, and put the bag in the front seat of his car. Once her dad drove into the street, he began searching for an open Dumpster in the back of a store. After seeing one, he drove up to it, parked, took the trash bag out, and threw it inside, feeling so relieved and glad about disposing everything. At least he knew there was not any evidence for police to use against Jan and was satisfied she didn’t have any more drugs to use herself.
Jan rushed home to pack up as much stuff as she could fit into a large suitcase. Whatever personal possessions she left behind, her mother would pack up and put in storage, then clean the condo so the landlord could rent it again. She dropped off her packed suitcase at Kristen’s house that evening for her to take to the Airport and leave for Jan in the bathroom.
The next morning, Jan drove to her parent’s condo where the final plan of action was ready to be initiated. Her mom now drove her to the nearest drug store. As they turned into the rear lot and parked, Jan surveyed the surrounding area to see if they were being followed by the police. Luckily, there were none around.
“Mom, I love you. Thanks for all your help. I’ll call you as soon as I arrive in San Francisco,” she said fondly.
“Hey, daughter, I love you, too. Keep your nose clean and no more lies,” her mom responded with endearment.
“Promise. I gotta go. Wish me luck,” Jan replied.
Seeing nothing unusual, she exited the car and entered the store while her mother stayed behind as if waiting for her to return. Jan walked straight through to the front of the store and immediately exited the front door to a prearranged taxi which drove her to the Honolulu International Airport. Everything so far was going smoothly.
Once Jan arrived at the airport, she blended in with the buzz of activity of arriving and departing travelers congregated throughout the terminal. She spotted the United Air Lines counter and then proceeded to enter the crowded lady’s restroom. Jan ducked down to survey the toilet stalls, seeing only one occupied with shoes and Jan’s suitcase in view below the door.
She entered the empty stall next to the one with her suitcase and then reached for the ticket under the stall wall. Her sister’s hand put a plane ticket between her fingers and pushed the suitcase over to her. No words were exchanged.
Both of them exited to wash their hands and fix their hair among the other people. They looked at each other only through their respective mirrors to bid farewell, and for Jan, good luck.
Now all she had to do was check in at the ticket counter and board the plane to San Francisco. Jan waited in the queue with the other passengers, looking around nervously to see if anyone was watching her. The line finally shortened and she quickly approached the ticket agent.
“Great day for a flight to San Francisco,” the ticket agent said.
“I’m just glad it isn’t raining. I hate flying in a storm with all the turbulence,” Jan replied.
“Your name please?”
“Kristen Sherman.”
“Any luggage?”
“Just one suitcase.”
“I see you have a pre-paid ticket.”
Jan handed over the ticket. He checked it, tore it out of the packet and handed her a boarding pass and baggage stub.
“You’ll be boarding at Gate 6, Miss Sherman. The plane is on schedule. Please proceed promptly so you won’t miss your flight. Enjoy your trip.”
She was relieved that task was finished and scoured the airport terminal again for any police or undercover types. Luckily, she didn’t see any. After reaching Gate 6, Jan chose a seat facing the incoming passengers. Oversized dark sunglasses hid her face and allowed her to scan the faces of everyone approaching the boarding area while pretending to read a book. Finally, the announcement from the speakers blared through the waiting area, “All passengers please begin the boarding process for Flight 318 to San Francisco.”
Jan waited until everyone was in line before walking to the end of the queue. She took several more glances in all directions as everyone began entering the connecting ramp to the plane. Everything looked normal.
Back at her parent’s condo, Kristen stood with them on their balcony over-looking the beach at Waikiki watching the planes flying out over the ocean from the nearby airport.
“I hope Jan makes her flight,” her dad wondered.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Kristen replied.
“I feel a lot better knowing she’ll be off the island,” her mom said as she stared blankly at the ocean.
“You know Jan. She always lands on her feet,” Kristen replied.
“Maybe it was time that she didn’t. She can’t get away with this stuff forever. Fate always takes care of you in the end.” They watched another plane take off into the sky away from them, disappearing into the clouds.
Jan walking on the plane ramp, she felt someone’s hand on her shoulder. It stopped her immediately. “Jan Sherman, you’re under arrest for selling and smuggling narcotics into the United States. Please come with us. We have a car waiting outside the terminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,”
the DEA Agent informed her.
Surrounded by two other DEA Agents, Jan was handcuffed and led out of the busy terminal. She was speechless and her face reflected the shock of being busted. Everyone was staring at her, causing more embarrassment and humiliation than she had ever experienced before.
While detained for several minutes surrounded by DEA Agents, Jan could see her plane moving away from the ramp outside the terminal windows. Her heart sank. She realized that all her future plans had ended in that moment. An unmarked police car was waiting in front of the airline entrance and the DEA agents escorted her over to the vehicle. One agent opened the back door, grasped her arm to help her in to the back seat, then buckled her into the seat belt, and closed the car door.
She closed her eyes to block out the flurry of activity outside the vehicle and the curious people passing by, straining to look in the windows. It was a futile attempt to transport her into a zen state of mind to escape the reality of what was happening to her. Jan felt like she was drowning and all the air was being sucked out of her body. She was screaming inside for help, but nobody could hear and nobody was rescuing her.
Suddenly, Jan felt someone grasp her arm again. She opened her eyes and was tethered back to reality. It was the stewardess waking her up, asking if she wanted a beverage, and taking her dinner order. Jan felt numb and didn’t know if she was dreaming or not. To confirm she was in flight, she looked out the plane window to see billowy clouds below and the Honolulu shoreline gradually disappear. Jan realized that her long-feared bust by the DEA was only a horrible nightmare.
A huge Cheshire cat grin appeared on her face, as well as a giddy satisfaction knowing that she outsmarted the Honolulu police. Jan was now free from further surveillance or questioning and could continue her planned journey to South America with her fake passport and new travel identity as Serena Rico.
Up, up, and away to Argentina – the land of the Pampas, the Gauchos, and now, Jan Sherman.
Chapter 12 — Literally the Last Chapter
The police milled around the inside of a cluttered condo in Anaheim, California on January 12, 2013, where packed and sealed moving boxes were stacked along the walls. A cork bulletin board in the kitchen displayed an obituary newspaper clipping about a World War II Army Air Corps veteran, a vintage black and white commercial headshot from 1968 for a young Sally Fields type actress, photos of pet cats, and a To Do List marked with colored checks on everything except the last notation: find a new condo.
“Where’d they discover the body?” the police officer asked the investigator.
“They found her dead on the toilet with a shattered bottle of wine at her feet on the tiled floor. What a horrible way to go,” he responded.
“You’re right about that. Cause of death?”
“There’s no evidence of foul play. Probably liver failure. Not the first alcoholic to go out that way,” the investigator replied.
“How long has she been deceased?” the police office inquired.
“We don’t know. Her neighbors called the manager when newspapers were piling up in front of her door. He rang her doorbell, knocked, and when there was no answer, called her cell phone. There was no response,” the investigator said.
“Did you notify the family?” the officer inquired.
“Apparently they were estranged,” the investigator answered.
The police officer pointed to the boxes. “Did she just move in?”
“The neighbors said she’s lived here six months. It was a temporary rental until she found another place. That’s why there’s all these packed boxes. Didn’t go out much or talk to anyone recently.”
The police officer sighed. “Well, we’ve gotta notify her next of kin. Somebody must care about what happened to her.”
The next day, Jan’s sister Gail received a call from her mom with the tragic news that Jan was dead. She had just sat down to eat dinner at her favorite buffet restaurant, but immediately lost her appetite. Gail stared at the plate of food as her mom explained the sketchy details from the police report. She was stunned and realized Jan was gone forever. Although they hadn’t visited often with each other in the last twenty years, the finality of her death ended any chances of future time together.
To console her grieving mom, Gail drove from her home in Northern California to her mom’s condo in Rancho Mirage, a desert resort community located several hours drive east of Los Angeles. Upon arrival, Gail was anxious and unsure what her mom’s emotional state would be after losing her second oldest daughter in such a horrendous and pathetic demise.
Gail was heartbroken, still having trouble accepting the fact that she would never be able to speak to Jan again. There were so many unresolved, deep-seated sibling rivalry issues that she wished they had discussed when they were younger. In fact, Jan’s obsession with their childhood competition and hatred towards her worsened as she aged and was exacerbated as her drinking problem increased. Jan could never let go of that psychological animosity until the day she died.
After ringing the doorbell, Gail waited. Her mom was walking with a cane now, so it took a while for her to open the door. Finally, she peeked out and smiled broadly after seeing her eldest daughter. They fell into each other’s arms and warmly embraced.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” her mom replied.
“Are you okay?”
She shrugged as she pulled away. “I always knew we’d get that call from the police someday.”
“Jan always refused our offers of help. It’s just a fantasy to think that we could have changed her. There was nothing more we could do. That’s just the way she was,” Gail responded.
Here mom grimaced. It was clearly a sore spot.
“I don’t have any regrets or feel guilty. I just feel sorry the way things turned out,” Gail confessed.
“Well, I do have regrets as a mother who has lost a daughter. What did I do wrong as a parent? What did I miss? I feel tremendous guilt and blame myself for Jan’s behavior. I’ve thought about it every day since she passed, from the moment I wake up in the morning until the moment I fall asleep. And it’ll be that way until the day I die.”
“Mom, life happens. You did the best you could. Once Jan left home as a teenager, she followed her own path to experience life as she wanted. It’s just unfortunate that path deviated away from us. She walked right up to edge and was lucky she didn’t get killed or end up in prison when she was younger.”
“I’m so angry the way Jan died. She should have trusted us to take care of her. That’s just the way I feel,” her mom lamented.
“What did the coroner’s report say?” Gail asked.
“Gastraointestinal hemorrhage and severe coronary atherosclerosis, both aggravated by alcohol.”
“That was a mouthful of a medical conclusion. Now we know. Jan was a functioning alcoholic and she’d never admit it. But I knew it. This is the final proof,” Gail surmised.
“You know, Jan didn’t have any health insurance. Since she’d been unemployed for a long time, she didn’t want to deplete her savings to pay for it. I asked her whether she would rather “die” with money in the bank or “live” with less cash. I thought it was a no brainer, but she dismissed my question by not responding,” her mom said.
“I knew she was living a frugal lifestyle, but that’s crazy. Her better judgement was definitely affected by the alcohol,” Gail responded.
“And those bad decisions are what contributed to her death,” her mom replied.
“When I found out she was feeling ill for several months, I called and pleaded with her to go immediately to the hospital emergency room. She refused to do it. Rather than going to see a doctor to confirm what was ailing her, she preferred using her own home remedies to mask the pain. I’m sure alcohol was probably part of that treatment. Jan preferred researching on the computer to self-diagnose and told me she thought the pain wa
s in her kidneys,” Gail said.
“Years ago she told me about her phobia of hospitals and doctors. It supposedly started when she was a teenager visiting a friend in the hospital dying from terrible injuries suffered in a car accident. The guy veered off a cliff, falling hundreds of feet into a ravine while driving on a windy mountain road late at night. Apparently seeing him in that gruesome condition deeply traumatized her,” mom revealed.
“I never knew that,” Gail admitted.
Mom handed a ceramic urn to Gail, who cradled it in her arms, gently running her hand around the smooth surface. Her eyes welled up with tears. “How sad it is that I knew her my whole life, yet I feel like I didn’t know her at all. She was a stranger to me.”
“I always hoped that you two would have been closer as sisters,” mom said.
“Believe me, I tried to spend more time with her and resolve any issues she had with me, but she wasn’t interested.”
“I just wish your dad was still alive and here with us,” her mom lamented.
They walked around the condo where Jan’s boxes were stacked to the ceiling, including the one marked ‘IMPORTANT’.
“These are her belongings, what’s left after I gave everything else to the Salvation Army. You’re free to go through them. Take what you want.”
Gail opened a box and pulled out a small, colorful woven rug. She carefully held it and felt the texture. “Beautiful. Bolivian?” Gail asked.
“The only one to ask isn’t talking anymore, is she?” her mom angrily responded. Gail put the rug back in the box.
“You know how difficult she made everything, especially when she drank. There’s so much you’ll never know about what Jan put your dad and me through,” her mom said as she began crying. Gail hugged and comforted her.
“Mom, it’s over now. She’s in a better place, with dad.” Her mom nodded and they both looked upwards towards the sky.
The next day, Gail loaded Jan’s boxes in the back of her rental van and said good-bye to her heart-sick mom. She drove out of the parking garage ready to begin her seven hour drive back to her home in Monterey Bay.
Rendezvous With the Fat Man Page 21