Chasing Manhattan

by John Gray

  Chase then, “Lost how?”

  Mary, “Eating lunch alone. Sitting on the playground alone. Charlie is a wonderful little girl, but she needs help, you know, pulling her out of her shell.”

  Chase nodded, showing she understood, as Mary continued, “So they moved her to a small private school, but now she’s not just the only deaf child but the only Black child in her grade. It’s left her …”

  Mary struggled to find the right word, then finished with, “Withdrawn. And a little lost right now.”

  Chase thought a moment then asked, “Does she have any friends, out here in the country, at Briarcliff?”

  Mary shook her head, saying, “Not really. She loves her horse and rides her, but a horse is a horse you know. It’s not the same. I feel like she needs a best friend to connect with.”

  Chase thought a moment, wishing she had a solution, but nothing immediately came to mind.

  Mary then broke the silence saying, “I should be getting back to her. It was really nice meeting you and …”

  Chase helped her then. “Gavin. His name is Gavin.”

  Mary again: “It was so nice meeting you and Gavin, and thank you for talking to me about Charlie. Her parents are very busy working in the city, and a lot of this falls on me. I worry about her.”

  Mary then looked toward the barn and saw Charlie in the distance sitting on the ground with her back against a bale of hay. She was fiddling with a pinecone she’d found on the ground, lost again in her own quiet world.

  Without looking back at Chase, Mary just stared at the child and said, “What scares me, Chase, is … it’s getting worse.”

  As Mary made her way back to the silent child, Chase went back to the mansion where Gavin was sitting on a stool in the kitchen, those deep blue eyes watching out the back window for her return. He could see the concern on Chase’s face, so he immediately came outside on the stone patio and asked, “Everything all right, hon?”

  Chase gave Gavin a hug and said, “Yeah, just that sweet little girl. The woman, Mary, said Charlie is a bit lost right now. She needs a friend.”

  Gavin pulled her away from the hug, looked in her eyes, and said, “Maybe you can be her friend.”

  Chase wasn’t convinced, responding, “She wouldn’t even talk to me.”

  Gavin looked over at the neighbor’s barn off in the distance, and said, to comfort her, “First day. Give it time.”

  The two locked hands and started back into the house, uncertain what the first day of this new life might bring. One thing was certain, both were still ravenous. The tiny bagel they had split was not doing its job.

  Gavin fished a packet of bacon and a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator, while Chase grabbed two more K-Cups to replenish their empty coffee mugs. Gavin then pulled up YouTube on his phone, and a few clicks later James Taylor started singing about how sweet it was to be loved by someone like Chase. Gavin changed the word YOU in the song to CHASE just to make her smile.

  As she watched Gavin cooking, singing, and moving around the kitchen, mimicking dance steps he clearly didn’t know, she realized again in that moment how much she loved this man. His uncomplicated life was on a farm in Vermont, yet his devotion to her was so strong, he had chased her all the way to the upper East Side of the big city. Chasing Manhattan, she thought, how poetic.

  Now, without raising an objection, he had shifted his life again, helping her make sense of this new adventure in a new place. That woman Mary was right, he was indeed a keeper! If the moment came soon, where a shiny diamond was put before her eyes, Chase knew she couldn’t say “YES” fast enough.

  Whenever someone was cooking, especially bacon, Scooter was always at their feet hoping for a free sample. Chase realized her puppy wasn’t with them, looked around the kitchen, and said to Gavin, “Hey, where’s Scoot?”

  Gavin was in full iron chef mode now, so without taking his eyes off the hot stove, he simply shrugged his shoulders, indicating he had no clue.

  Had they ventured out of the kitchen, away from the soothing tones of James Taylor and the sound of sizzling bacon, they would have realized Scooter was back on the other side of the house in the room off the den, barking again at a dusty shelf filled with old board games. While Scooter seemed infatuated with Monopoly, Scrabble, Pictionary, and Battleship, Chase was deep in her own thoughts, worried now about a sweet little girl who spoke with her hands and protected her heart. Two words that the tutor, Mary, said more than once were tormenting Chase now: She’s lost.

  Chase knew she’d just met the child, so it made no sense to feel this connected already, as if she had to help her. Still, there was no denying it, this was the same strong feeling Chase had gotten in the pit of her stomach back in Manchester, when she had met the lovely people in that town and realized they needed help, and Chase had been the only one who could give it.

  But what could she do? Chase didn’t know sign language, nor did she have a child that Charlie could play and connect with. As Chase watched Gavin plate their delicious breakfast and glance over with those kind blue eyes, she could only hope in her heart that something would come to her.

  What she didn’t know was, just as in Manchester, it was Scooter who would unlock everything.

  CHAPTER 15

  Game Night

  It took Chase less than a day to decide the library was her favorite room in this amazing house. Beautiful wooden bookcases blanketed the walls, housing many of literature’s classic tales: Moby Dick, Of Mice and Men, To Kill a Mockingbird.

  “You could be locked in here for ten years and not finish them all,” Chase said to Gavin while holding a worn copy of The Great Gatsby.

  Gavin put his hands in his pocket and smiled, looking like a little boy with a secret, when he said, “We may have to read them. I just checked and there’s no cable TV hooked up right now. I called, and the guy on the phone said it got disconnected when the owner died. Could be a day or two till they can get somebody out here for you.”

  Chase gave him her best pouty face, then raised her eyebrows and said, “Then we’ll just have to find something else to do with the time, hot stuff.”

  As the two of them smiled, there was a knock on the front door, loud enough to cause Scooter to bark and run in that direction.

  “I got it,” Gavin said, leaving Chase to continue looking at the literary works of art that adorned the room from floor to ceiling. Chase was busy thumbing through a copy of John Steinbeck’s The Pearl when Gavin appeared in the doorway holding something green and yellow.

  “Guess what just arrived?” he said.

  Chase couldn’t see from that distance, so she crossed the room slowly. Then her eyes went wide as she said, “The roses!”

  “Yep,” Gavin replied. “Seven of them, all yellow, just like the letter said.”

  They both turned and looked at the antique hutch by the window and realized the letter was still where Chase had left it.

  Chase took the roses from Gavin’s arms and said, “Who gave them to you? Who was at the door?”

  Gavin went into his back pocket and pulled out a small business card and said, ‘Flora’s Florist.’ The delivery guy said he comes once a week like clockwork. He left his card in case there was ever a problem, and said he’d bring more roses.”

  Chase smelled them, and they were divine, “Did you tip him, hon?”

  Gavin shook his head, “He wouldn’t take it. He said the previous owner set up a fund and he was well taken care of, whatever that means.”

  Chase looked around the well-appointed room and said, “Well, since Sebastian Winthrop used to own Monets, I’m guessing that means the flower guy is all set on the tip.”

  The thought made Gavin chuckle. “Nice to be rich, huh?”

  Chase pulled a single rose from the bunch and said, “I guess so. Should I place it on the rock wall or you?”

  Gavin rubbed his chin and said, “Well, since you wrote the nice article about him and you are the lady of the house, I think you sh
ould. But I’ll keep watch from the patio in case a bear attacks you or something.”

  Chase threw Gavin a look and said, “Oh great, now I’ll have that on my mind as I walk out there in the dark.”

  The two stepped outside, and luckily it was a clear night with a half-moon overhead. It was certainly not bright, but it made the yard look as though a flashlight low on batteries was shining down on it.

  Chase was wearing her favorite high-top Converse sneakers with the star on the side, so navigating the mushy lawn was a piece of cake.

  “You come running if I scream, now,” she yelled back over her shoulder.

  Gavin called back, “In a heartbeat.”

  A moment later Chase found the wall and placed the yellow rose on top as instructed. She looked off into the woods behind the property, but nothing appeared to be looking back—just thick trees. Even though she was perfectly safe, there was something a bit spooky about doing this errand all by herself, so her steps back toward Gavin and the light from the kitchen quickened with each movement. As she got near, she saw Gavin looking back into the house. There was no music playing or TV on, so sounds in the old home carried far and fast.

  As Chase reached the patio she called out, “What’s the matter?”

  He looked back toward Chase and said, “Nothing—I hear Scooter going crazy. Barking.”

  Chase locked the back door behind them, and together, without saying a word, the two of them snaked their way through the house that Sebastian built, to the other side and the den. Once they were there, Scooter’s barking seemed much louder, so they followed it through a door off the den into a small room that was used for storage. Boxes of blankets were on the floor, three or four old brooms were tucked neatly in a corner as if waiting for an owner to pick them up, and there was Scooter standing on all fours in an aggressive posture, barking at a shelf filled with board games.

  Chase looked at Gavin and they both thought the same thing, then tried to push it out of their minds. This is what had happened at the old church in Manchester, Vermont. This is how the craziness had started, with Scooter seeing or knowing something they did not.

  But there were no stained glass windows in the room to hide secrets. Just boring old walls that were painted white and as blank as a new sheet of typing paper. The only thing of any interest in the room were the games piled on top of each other on a shelf.

  “Maybe a mouse is in there?” Gavin asked.

  Chase thought, we should be so lucky, then said, “Maybe.”

  She then petted Scooter and said, “What’s wrong, boy, something in there?”

  With that he stepped forward, jumped up, and using his paw pulled down several of the board games, causing them to crash onto the wooden floor. Pieces of the Monopoly game sprawled in every direction.

  “SCOOTER,” Chase cried out. “Bad boy.”

  You’d expect the dog to look ashamed after such a scolding, but he wagged his tail as if he were pleased with himself. He acted as if he had done exactly what he intended to do.

  Chase and Gavin got down on the floor and scooped up Park Place and Marvin Gardens, when Scooter stepped right between them and started clawing his right paw on a box that hadn’t burst open from the fall. It was Scrabble.

  Chase looked at Gavin and said, “If there IS a dead mouse in there, I’m gonna scream, you know that, right?”

  Gavin finished putting the other games back in their boxes and then looked into Scooter’s eyes. “What gives, buddy? You want me to open this box?”

  With that, Gavin picked up the Scrabble game and gave it a quick shake. It felt full, as if everything was still inside. If a dog could smile, Scooter did in that instant, barking, whipping his tail quickly back and forth, and again striking the box with his paw, as it lay in Gavin’s hands.

  Gavin stood up, looked at Chase, and said, “I think he wants us to play Scrabble.”

  Chase loved her dog with all her heart but that didn’t stop her from saying out loud, “Dogs can’t want things like that, Gavin. Come on.”

  Gavin took her by the hand and led her into the den, saying as they walked, “Well, this one does.”

  There was a large couch to the side and two smaller chairs, but they needed something level, so Gavin grabbed two pillows off the furniture and tossed them down to the carpet.

  “Cop a squat?” he suggested.

  Chased looked confused so he added, “Don’t tell me you never saw Pretty Woman. Remember they cop a squat under a tree? Julia Roberts and Richard Gere.”

  Chase thought a moment, then snapped her fingers when she remembered, saying, “She makes him take his shoes and socks off cause he’s all too businessy.”

  Gavin smiled, “I’m not sure business-eeee is a word but okay, yes, now you have it.”

  The two sat down, and Gavin pried open the Scrabble box. All the pieces were neatly arranged, and it looked as if it hadn’t been used more than once or twice.

  They opened the board and placed it on the floor, took out the dozens of tiny brown wooden tiles, which were blank on one side and had letters on the other.

  “How does this work again?” Gavin asked. “I mean, I know we spell words on the board and get points, but how many tiles do we get?”

  Chase said, “Honestly, I don’t remember. I haven’t played this since I was fourteen at the Finns’ house.”

  “The Finns?” Gavin asked curious.

  “Bobby and Jimmy Finn, twin boys one year ahead of me in school. We hung out all the time as kids and they loved board games. They had them all.”

  Gavin glanced at a piece of paper with the rules printed on it and read out loud, “Place tiles into the Scrabble bag. Shake it up and have each player remove seven tiles and place them face up on their wooden rack. Use the tiles to form words on the board and score points. Abbreviations and names do not count.”

  He then tossed the paper down on the carpet and said, “It goes on from there, but that’s the gist of it. You wanna play?”

  Chase replied, “It says you need a hundred tiles to play. Make sure we have enough.”

  Gavin quickly counted them out and got 99.

  “Let me count,” Chase said, certain that Gavin had just missed one.

  She then slowly counted the wooden tiles and a moment later concluded, “Looks like you were right: ninety-nine. We’re missing one letter. No biggie, we can still play.”

  It was then they both realized Scooter was lying on the floor to Chase’s left with a satisfied look on his face, watching every move.

  Both took seven wooden tiles out of the bag and arranged them on their small rack. Gavin had an odd collection of letters: Z, T, V, O, R, R, L.

  Chase on the other hand got L, O, Z, B, A, E, L.

  They both tried to scramble their letters around to make something, anything, but Gavin was at a loss. “If I had another L I could make the word ROLL, but I got nothing. You?”

  Chase looked at Gavin’s letters and said, “Hold up, you have a couple. OR is a word. So is ROT.”

  Gavin looked again. “Oh, you’re right. I guess I ROT at this game.”

  His awful joke brought a groan from Chase.

  Gavin then asked, “How about you?”

  Chase moved the pieces around and realized she could spell BALL or BELL. “Did you say we can’t spell names?” she asked. Gavin replied, “That’s right, no names.”

  “Too bad,” Chase said, as she placed the tiles on the game board. “I could have spelled BELLA.”

  Gavin saw she had some other words she could work with and told her to go with one of those.

  They played to 100 points and the game went quickly, with Chase winning the first one easily.

  “Rematch?” Gavin asked with a smile, “Mix ’em up,” Chase said as they placed the tiles back in the bag, adding, “Who needs cable TV?”

  After taking the tiles back out for game number two Gavin said, “Oh, finally some good letters.”

  This time he was starting off with A, D, E,
S, R, S, P. “Wow, I’ve got DRESS, PRESS, READ, tons of words this time. How’d you do?”

  Chase turned her tiles over and had L, A, L, V, X, E, B. “Hmm, not so good. Look,” she said, turning her rack around so Gavin could see.

  Just then Scooter, who had been quiet for a half hour, let out a surprise bark that made them both jump. The dog looked at Chase and then over to her letters. As ridiculous as it seemed, it felt as if he were saying, “Look again, mommy. LOOK.”

  Chase patted his head and looked back, but her Scrabble letters still seemed like odds and ends. Then she relaxed her focus and saw it plain as day.

  “Hey, I got Bella again,” she said with surprise.

  Gavin looked and said, “That’s funny. What are the odds?”

  Chase didn’t say anything. Instead, she looked back at her dog, who was still staring as if waiting for something. Chase’s mind started running away from logic and toward the impossible.

  She stared silently at Scooter.

  “Hello, we still playing?” Gavin asked.

  Chase ignored his question, her mind now piecing together the evening’s events.

  His barking had led them to this room and he himself had pulled down this very game they were playing. It was all too familiar to her, since it was the same dog who, a couple years earlier, had been barking at windows in a church and at messages that only Chase could see in the stained glass windows. But this wasn’t a church, was it? No, far from it. They were sitting on the floor of a million-dollar mansion, playing a stupid board game, so whatever this was, it couldn’t be that. It had to be a silly coincidence. What are the odds? she wondered.

  There was an awkward silence, and Chase’s eyes appeared to be looking far away, causing Gavin to ask, “Are you okay?”

  Chase finally returned to him, and said, “Let’s find out.”

  “What?” Gavin answered.

  Chase then, “You said, what are the odds of getting the same letters twice. Let’s find out.”

  She took both of their wooden racks and tossed the tiles back into the bag, shaking it up extra hard this time.