Chasing Manhattan

by John Gray

  Chase said, “One more? Are you saying I have another word I didn’t see?” Chase stared at the random letters and said, “I don’t see it.”

  Charlie reached over and moved the tiles around, spelling B I R D. It was the same word Chase got on the first game.

  “You’re right, I didn’t see that,” Chase said, looking down at the word.

  Chase didn’t let on, but her first thought was, Is this happening again?

  As Charlie began to play the game and place letters on the board, Chase interrupted, “Hey, can I do something really quick?”

  Charlie shrugged her shoulders indicating, sure.

  Chase then said to Charlie, “I’m not trying to cheat, I just want to see something.”

  Chase, remembering how certain words had repeated themselves in the past, pushed her chosen letters aside, picked up the bag of tiles again, and took out seven new ones: Q R D E I V B.

  She just looked at them, not saying a word, and watched as Charlie’s small hand reached over, slid the tiles around, and spelled out the word B I R D. Again!

  Then the child put her right hand up to her mouth and nose, making the sign of an L, and suddenly closed the thumb and pointer finger together. She snapped them open and shut several times. It looked like the mouth of a baby bird opening and closing.

  Chase smiled and asked, “Is that the sign for BIRD?”

  Charlie took Chase’s hand and showed her how to do it, nodding her head and silently mouthing, YES, BIRD. Charlie and Chase were both doing the silly sign in front of their noses, causing both to laugh.

  Chase tossed the extra letters back into the bag, asking, “Do you want to finish this game or take a break and go get a snack in the kitchen?”

  Charlie rubbed her hand on her tummy, indicating she was hungry. As they folded the game board and placed it back into the box, Charlie did the sign for BIRD one last time, causing Chase to say, “Yes, bird.”

  Charlie then spelled something with her hands that Chase didn’t understand and started slapping the back of her own neck. Charlie could see Chase was confused, so she did it again, spelling something with her hands and touching the back of her neck.

  Chase threw her hands in the air and said, “I’m sorry, I’m not following, sweetie.”

  Charlie shook the letters back out of the Scrabble bag and quickly spelled a name: OSCAR.

  Chase looked down and said, “Oscar. You mean Oscar, my friend, the man who brought you Bella, that Oscar?”

  Charlie nodded and then made the sign for a bird again and slapped the back of her neck.

  Chase sat silently, trying to piece this together.

  After Charlie did it a third time Chase said, “Wait. Are you saying Oscar had a bird land on the back of his neck?”

  Charlie looked frustrated and shook her head no once again. There was a pencil in the Scrabble box for keeping score, so Charlie grabbed it. She then pretended to write on Chase’s arm and made a buzzing sound. Charlie then pointed at Oscar’s name in the Scrabble letters, did the sign for bird, and slapped the back of her neck. She did it twice and waited for Chase to solve this impossible puzzle.

  Finally, Chase’s eyes flew open as she asked, “Wait, are you trying to show me a tattoo? Is that what you’re doing with the pencil? A tattoo?”

  Charlie, reading her lips, shook her head yes and then did the sign for a bird again, pointed to Oscar’s name in letters, and slapped the back of her neck.

  Chase then, “Got it. Got it. You’re saying Oscar has a tattoo of a bird on his neck.”

  Charlie smiled and gave her a thumbs-up sign.

  Chase thought a moment then asked, “How do you know that? I’ve never seen it.”

  Charlie pointed to Scooter on the floor next to them and then she threw herself on the floor and rolled over like a dog. This caused Scooter to climb onto Charlie’s back to play. After rolling on the floor for a brief moment, she popped back up and pointed at Oscar’s name again in the wooden letters, then at the dog.

  Chase asked, “Are you saying you saw it when Oscar was on the ground playing with my dog?”

  Charlie pointed to her own chest.

  “Your dog! When he was playing with your dog, Bella?” Chase added.

  Charlie nodded her head again, YES.

  Chase was nearly exhausted playing this game of charades, so she smiled and said, “Gotcha. Hey, let’s clean this up and get that snack.”

  They finished putting away the game, and as Chase was about to leave the room and get Charlie those Oreos, a memory jolted her like a slap in the face.

  “WAIT. WAIT. A bird? Charlie, what kind of bird is on Oscar’s neck?”

  Charlie thought a moment and then put two fingers together, almost crossed, right in front of her nose, making it look like she had a hooked nose.

  Chase just stared, trying to understand, finally saying, “I’m sorry, Charlie, I don’t know sign language. Is that thing you’re doing with your hand a sign for a type of bird?”

  Charlie, looking frustrated, took the letters back out of the Scrabble box and searched through them frantically for five specific letters. When she had them, she spelled it out for Chase to see: EAGLE.

  Chase was staring off into a wall now, trying to unpack a memory from months ago, when Raylan told her the story about the day he was injured at war and the man he saved from the burning truck. There was one very identifiable thing that Raylan saw and would never forget, a tattoo on the back of the man’s neck. A screaming eagle, he called it.

  But this made no sense. Whatever Charlie saw, even if it was a tattoo of an eagle, it had to be some strange coincidence. Right? Chase was lost in thought when Charlie tugged at her sleeve, then rubbed her tummy again, reminding Chase of her promise.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie, let’s get you those cookies and milk.” Chase said.

  As the two started toward the kitchen, Chase turned back to Scooter who was still sitting on the carpet not three feet from the stack of board games, and said, “Troublemaker.”

  Once they were in the kitchen and Charlie was dunking her Oreos into the cold milk, Chase took her cell phone out and texted her friend and driver, Matthew, in all caps: TURN AROUND. I NEED YOU ASAP.

  She hated making Matthew take her back to Manhattan on such short notice, but she needed to know if she was losing her mind. As Charlie sat at the kitchen island making cookies disappear, Chase knew in her heart that sometimes things were connected in ways we can’t always see. She was 99.9 percent certain this wasn’t what she thought it was, but she couldn’t rest until she knew for sure.

  CHAPTER 28

  How’s Your Brother?

  Charlie’s tutor, Mary, came to collect her an hour later, and Chase was a busy little bee as they waited. She called Deb at the Fur-Ever Java café in Manhattan and asked if she had a way to reach Oscar, the kind man who had brought Bella into Charlie’s life. She did, telling Chase that when they had something special to donate to the homeless shelter, they’d call Oscar to come get it. Chase asked Deb to contact Oscar and get him to the café by 7 p.m., telling her only that it was for something important.

  As she awaited her driver, Matthew, to come take her to the meeting, Chase called Gavin, who was back on the farm in Vermont, sharing her suspicion about Oscar and his hidden tattoo.

  “Chase, I don’t like telling you what to do, but the last time you made an assumption that involved Raylan it backfired and it could have cost you the friendship,” Gavin said firmly over the phone.

  Then he added, “If you do it again and you’re wrong again …” He let that last part remain unsaid.

  Chase nodded. “I know, hon, I know. But I have a way of doing this that doesn’t show all my cards until I’m sure.”

  Gavin could only wish her luck as Chase hung up and opened Google on her smartphone. Chase had a hunch about the Philmont family and the voice on the telephone in that Park Avenue lobby who told her to let things be. She would let things drop, if that made sense, but right no
w, she needed to know more about this wealthy family and the son who was saved by Raylan. One good photograph of Peter Philmont would solve this one way or the other.

  She searched the Philmonts and their story of oil and riches, scanning several articles for the better part of a half hour. There was a lot written about the parents and the grandfather, but very little about their three sons: Clayton, Peter, and Paul. It was clear from every article that Clayton, the oldest, ran the show, and that Peter had little to do with the company. The youngest, Paul, was also like a ghost, never mentioned unless there was a family photo at some event, and you saw his name in the caption beneath. Oddly, Peter was missing from almost every photograph.

  The Philmont family was quite philanthropic, donating money to causes around the city. Chase saw an article about them giving $25,000 to start a community garden in the Bronx. Another had them building a new playground in Harlem. There was a nice photo of the family at a ribbon cutting at the Lexington School for the Deaf in East Elmhurst, New York, part of Queens. Clayton looked about twenty years old in the photo, standing next to his parents and a younger boy identified as Paul. The boy on the end was Peter, but he was no older than twelve, and the image not very clear, making it of little help to Chase.

  A car horn beeped, and Chase jumped up and grabbed her purse, knowing she and Matthew still had an hour’s drive before they’d reach the city. That gave her an hour to decide if she had the courage to follow through with what she was thinking of doing.

  The ride to Manhattan was stone-cold silent, and Matthew, being a retired police detective, was skilled in reading people. He could tell Chase’s mind was far outside the black BMW she was sitting in. He didn’t say a word, only asking once if she was okay. To which he received a terse, “Sure.”

  When they arrived at the café on the upper East Side, Matthew decided not to stay in the car but to follow Chase in. He knew she wasn’t in danger, but something told him to tag along just in case she needed his help. That’s what made Matthew so much more than a paid driver to Chase. He was a friend who had her back even when she didn’t ask for it.

  The coffee shop was half-empty as the two entered. Chase saw Deb behind the counter, and Oscar was off in the corner playing fetch with the latest puppy visiting from the animal shelter. In between throwing the ball, Oscar saw Chase and gave her a wave, then went back to his fun.

  “Coffee or water, Chase?” Deb asked kindly from behind the register.

  “No, no thank you, Deb, I’m not here for that. I’m here for you,” she added pointing over at Oscar. “You got a minute to talk?”

  Oscar began a game of tug-of-war with the dog, calling back to Chase, “Sure, what’s up?”

  Chase realized the music in the café was louder than usual and might get in the way of her questioning, so she turned back to Deb, “Hey, would you mind lowering the volume on Josh Groban for a minute?”

  Deb quickly obliged, realizing in that moment that no one had ever asked her to turn down the music in the whole five years she worked there. Something about Chase’s voice when she asked made Deb turn it off completely.

  “Thank you, dear,” Chase said. Now she had the silence and the floor. Are you SURE you want to do this? was the last thought in her head before she began.

  “Oscar, do you remember the day we met?”

  Still playing with the dog, he said, “Sure, I was out back, and you brought me some treats to take to the homeless shelter.”

  Chase then, “That’s right, and you were training a dog, who turned out to be Bella. The one we thought was named Ella.”

  Oscar thought a moment, then replied, “Right. That’s right.”

  Chase continued. “And that day I asked you about your name. I said, so your name is Oscar? And you replied, ‘That’s what they call me.’ Do you remember that part?”

  Oscar, still not looking at Chase and playing with the pup, said, “Yep, that’s right.”

  Chase, a bit sharper and louder now, “Only that’s not really an answer, is it? That’s what they call me. I didn’t ask what they called you. I asked if that was your name.”

  The café fell dead quiet, and Matthew got uneasy standing by the door, enough so that he intervened. “Chase? What’s going on?”

  Deb repeated his words like a parrot. “What is going on?

  Raylan was in the back office sitting at a small desk going over the monthly bills when he realized two things: the soft music that always filled his café was turned off, and he could hear someone, a woman, raising her voice. He got up immediately and went to the door, pushing through unnoticed by Chase and the others.

  Oscar stopped playing with the dog, stood up, and asked in a tone matching Chase’s, “Why do you care?”

  Chase, a bit calmer now, replied, “Don’t worry about my reasons. I’m just asking you what your real name is.”

  Oscar, feeling a bit on trial, responded, “Mark Retzlaff.”

  “Spell it,” Chase asked.

  Oscar now with a terse tone, “R E T Z L A F F. Do you need me to spell Mark?”

  Chase again, “What do you do for a living, Mark, besides train dogs and collect empty bottles for nickels?”

  Raylan hadn’t said a word yet; he just stood, silently watching this inquisition.

  Oscar replied, “I was a stockbroker.”

  Chase then, “Really. Can you tell me where the Dow or NASDAQ closed today?”

  Oscar, without missing a beat, replied, “No, I can’t.”

  Chase, “You trade stocks but you don’t know where the Dow closed?”

  Oscar again, “I said I was a stockbroker. I don’t do it anymore.”

  Chase paused a moment, thinking of a new way to test his story, then continued: “If you were a broker, tell me the stock trading symbol for Proctor and Gamble?”

  Oscar instantly, “PG.”

  Chase: “And Verizon?”

  Oscar: “VZ.”

  Chase thought harder for something less obvious, “What’s the trading symbol for Pfizer, the drug company?”

  Oscar, “PFE. Are we going to play this all day? Please tell me if there’s a prize at the end.”

  Raylan finally spoke. “What’s going on out here?”

  Chase ignored him. “Do you have any tattoos?”

  Deb intervened: “That’s kind of personal, Chase.”

  Oscar held his hand up as if waving her away, “No, it’s all right, Deb.” Then in a slightly sarcastic tone, he said, “Why yes, I do, Chase. I have two. Do you want the stock symbols for those as well?”

  Raylan jumped in: “Chase, what the heck is going on?”

  She continued to ignore all the others in the room, focusing only on Oscar. “No, I was just curious what they are.”

  Oscar replied, “There’s a date tattoo on my left arm, up here, of a significant day in my life. And I have a small bird on the top of my back.”

  Raylan wasn’t sure where any of this was going, but he continued to listen, along with everyone else in the café.

  Chase asked, “What kind of bird is it? The one on the back of your neck?”

  Oscar smiled. “It’s an eagle. Any more personal questions? Or are we done for the day?”

  Chase continued. “Why an eagle?”

  Oscar right back at her, “My high school football team. The Cambridge Eagles. A bunch of us got them senior year without our parents’ permission. I was grounded for two weeks.”

  Then in an angry voice, Oscar added, “Are we finished with the inquisition, Chase? Because this stopped being fun for me about five questions ago.”

  Chase looked at the faces in the café that were looking back at her, and every one of them was a mixture of confusion and dismay. Oscar was a fixture of this place and a good person. Why was Chase acting in such an aggressive, what some might call rude, way?

  Chase read the room and decided enough was enough. “I’m sorry, Oscar, or Mark. I just was curious. I thought I knew something, but obviously I was wrong.”


  A wounded Oscar replied, “OBVIOUSLY.”

  Raylan finally spoke, “I don’t know what this was about, you two, but let’s have it be done. Chase, can I talk to you privately a minute? Now, please.”

  Chase looked at Raylan and could see he wasn’t happy with her behavior, and said, “Sure.”

  Before she could move her feet, though, Chase remembered that every time some strange message had come to her in the past, it always had meaning and always came true. She stared at the floor, remembering what happened with Bella and then the elevator in Matthew’s building and now this word BIRD, over and over again. It was Charlie, in fact, who raised this suspicion about Oscar. Yet he did have an answer for everything, so she must be wrong. Despite all evidence to the contrary, and the anger she felt in the room, something pushed Chase to ask one final question.

  “Before we chat, Raylan, would Oscar mind if I ask one more thing?” Chase said sheepishly.

  She then looked at Oscar, adding, “I promise, answer me honestly and I’ll never ask you another personal question again. Ever.”

  Oscar let out a sigh and said, “Shoot.”

  Chase locked eyes with his and said, “I just wanted to ask you how is your little …”

  Just then, Chase made her thumb and pointer finger on her right hand into an L, closing the remaining three fingers into a fist. Chase placed the thumb against her forehead and then brought the L down onto her left hand like a hammer. It was the sign for the word BROTHER.

  She was asking Oscar, How is your little brother?

  Oscar stood frozen now, not certain what to say.

  Chase continued, “His name is Paul, right? And he’s …”

  With that she put her thumb in her ear with an open palm, the sign for DEAF.

  Oscar didn’t say a word. he just took two steps back and almost collapsed into a small wooden chair that sat next to an empty table. His face went blank.

  Chase moved toward Oscar gently now, as if walking on eggshells and in the softest tone, “You told my neighbor Charlie that you learned sign language because your best friend growing up was deaf.”

  Chase’s eyes were filling with tears now. “I think that’s true. But he wasn’t just a best friend, was he? He was your little brother, Paul, who you love dearly.”