by Greg Smith
Now that Aleks was back by Oak’s side, the repartee erupted out of him like magma spewing from a volcano. Aleks smiled happily. Not because what Oak said was so humorous. Though it was. Just being with his large friend made him feel like his old self.
Oak handed him the flask. As though they were primitives sitting around a fire sharing tales of folklore and the flask gave the bearer the right to speak. Aleks sipped.
“I was having an affair with Connie,” he blurted out.
“Like the entire fucking city didn’t know that,” Oak declared.
“Step didn’t know. Not until that night. September 10th. The night before all hell broke loose on Manhattan. The night all hell broke loose in the offices of A/S/B Financial.”
He took a long drink before going on with his story As though he was drawing courage from the flask instead of whatever Oak had filled it with – Johnnie Walker, presumably.
“I was working late. I heard a noise. The whisk of the front door opening. It was Connie. With a bottle of bubbly. I’d tried to break it off, Oak. I swear to god. I was through with her. But Connie…well, she can–…could… She could be very persuasive.
“Anyway, Step caught us. He went berserk. I’d never seen him so furious. He attacked Connie. I managed to pull him off her. Then, he attacked me. He was crazy strong. Angry strong. I couldn’t fight him. He was strangling me. I reached for something, anything. I groped around, grabbed something with some weight to it and swung. It was that statue on my desk. The Thinker. Step crumpled to the floor. He had a nasty gash on his head. I couldn’t find a pulse. I thought he was dead. I thought I’d killed him.
“I went to Connie. She was slumped against the wall. There was a puddle of blood around her. I couldn’t understand why there would be so much blood. Until I saw the letter opener stuck in her thigh. Step had stabbed her. He’d nicked her femoral artery. She bled to death.
“I didn’t know what to do. I grabbed my coat and ran out. Turns out, I grabbed Step’s coat by mistake. Left mine there. Keep that in mind. It comes into play later.
“I went home, drank myself to sleep. In the morning, I went jogging. I was trying to clear my head, figure out what to do. When I saw the North Tower on fire. I watched everything from the Bleecker. When the Tower collapsed, it was…it was like a dagger of ice had pierced my heart.
“Binyak was in there. I thought Step was…he was gone.”
He paused, glanced over to capture a reaction from his friend. Oak kept his eyes on the road.
“I was horrified, Oak. As horrified as everyone else by what happened that day. All those innocent people. Both Towers. Gone in an instant. The whole time, a little voice in the back of my head kept repeating over and over like a broken record. ‘No one will ever know. No one will ever know.’
“Oak, all the evidence of what I’d done was destroyed when that Tower collapsed.”
He stared out the window at the dark night.
“I…I thought Step was…that he’d been…pulverized. Connie, too.”
Oak grabbed the flask back, took up the story as though it was a baton being passed off in a relay race.
“Step got out somehow, Alpo. He got out of the Tower, wandered the streets until Nadia found him. He spent weeks in their care. Nadia and Griggor. The Romanians. Weeks with amnesia. He didn’t know who he was, where he came from, what had happened. Worse, he couldn’t form any new memories. Every day was a new day for him. The same as the day before. Like that movie. Groundhog Day. The one with Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell.
“God, she’s hot!” he observed, interrupting his own narrative.
“Only Step didn’t even know it was happening. He was aware of what was going on while he was awake each day, then he’d forget everything by the next morning. All of it. Fucking weird, man.”
Aleks marveled at the irony of his and Step’s situations. Step reliving the same day over and over. Him working on The Pile. Where every day had been a repeat of the day before. Though at least he’d known who he was the whole time. He’d had his memories to help pass the time.
“His memory slowly began to return,” Oak continued. “It’s not back a hundred percent. But he continues to improve. Hey, maybe he won’t remember you killed him!”
He saw the perturbed look on Aleks’s face, amended his comment.
“I mean, left him for dead.”
“Maybe he won’t remember I was fucking his wife,” Aleks said remorsefully.
Both men were silent a moment. Each one had dozens of questions to ask, but neither really knew where to begin.
“How is he, Oak? Is he healthy? Other than the memory thing. How’s he look?”
“He’s one ugly motherfucker, Alpo. Tall, thin, Ichabod Cranish.”
He glanced over at his friend.
“Kinda looks a little like you!”
“Oh, yeah? So, what you really meant to say was tall, dark, handsome. Debonair. GQ cover material.”
“Maybe in a previous life,” Oak shot back. “You’re looking a little scruffy around the edges these days. Shades of Aqualung.”
“Hey, if you’d been through what I’ve been through, my friend, you’d excuse a little lapse in personal hygiene.”
“You’ve always cleaned up well, though, I’ll give you that,” Oak grinned.
Aleks hadn’t been paying much attention to the route as Oak drove. He was a bit surprised to see they’d traveled out of New York, were in New Jersey.
“Step’s living in Jersey now?”
Aleks asked the question as though his brother moving across the state line was an act of treason.
“Sussex County. Sparta Township. About fifty miles northwest of NYC. Quaint, rural area that’s a combination of country retreat and bedroom community. Step and Nadia purchased a modest three-bedroom cabin in the Lake Mohawk Reservation.”
“Who’s this Nadia again?”
“Step’s wife. The Romanian woman who found him wandering in the street. Nadia took him in. Griggor stitched him up. He stayed in her restaurant under their care for weeks.”
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Griggor.”
“Oh, he’s a story for later.”
“What’s was that about a restaurant?”
“Nadia’s. After the gymnast, not Step’s new wife. Quaint bistro in the Village. Known for its Romanian and eastern European cuisine.”
“You sound like a fucking tour book,” Aleks noted. “Quaint this, quaint that.”
“Yeah, well quaint quaint always what it’s cracked up to be, pardner. Though in this case…it is. With regard to Sparta Township. Or was. With regard to Nadia’s.”
Oak was amusing himself. He reached a huge paw over to pat Aleks on the shoulder.
“It’s good to have you back, buddy. Fucking good to have you back. Step’s gonna be happy as a pig in shit.”
Aleks hoped what Oak said was true. The large man fumbled in his pockets for his mobile phone, punched Step’s listing. Step answered on the second ring.
“This is Step.”
“And this is Santa Claus. I have a package with your name on it. Musta got lost in the mail. I think it best I bring it right over. Wanna make sure you and the gypsy are home.”
“She has a name, Oak. You should learn to use it.”
“You and Nadia home?”
“Yes. We’re here.”
“Great. I’m ten minutes away. Stay where you are. You’re gonna wanna be sitting down for this.”
Neither Oak or Aleks said much for the fifteen minutes it took the large man to drive the remaining ten minutes to Step’s. He pulled in the drive, put the car in park.
“You ready for this, Alpo?”
“Ready as I can be. But let’s do it anyway.”
The two tall men walked up to the front door.
“Nice place. Very…quaint,” Aleks commented, admiring the Tudor-style stucco and stone facade, the rustic wooden shutters framing each window.
Oak raised the knock
er, let it fall, repeated the act twice more.
“Step to the side, will ya, Alpo? Let’s not shock the shit out of ’em.”
Nadia opened the door, peered at Oak.
“Hello, Oskar. What a nice surprise.”
She refused to call the large man by anything other than his given name. Which he’d innocently revealed during a drunken discussion about Griggor, a.k.a. Dragos.
“Nadia! How are you, my Romanian-friend-who’s-not-named-after-the-famous-gymnast?”
“I’m fine. Happy. Content. And you, Oskar?”
“The same. Without the fine, happy and content parts. May I?”
He took a step forward, called out loudly.
“Step? You sitting down, bro? You’re gonna wanna stay seated for this.”
Nadia answered for him.
“He’s in the den. Sitting by the fireplace. What’s with all the suspense, Oskar? Where’s this package you mentioned?”
Her attempt to peer around the large man was unsuccessful.
“I suggest you go in and sit with Step, Nadia. Hold his hand or something.”
Nadia seemed reluctant to do as Oak asked, but obeyed. Oak turned to wave Aleks inside, was surprised to find his tall friend standing directly behind him.
“Let me go in, break the ice,” he whispered.
He turned to go, turned back.
“Seriously, Alpo. Stay here until I call you.”
Step was sitting in a worn leather chair that had come with the house. Oak knew it to be a favorite recliner of his. Nadia was seated on the matching ottoman, holding Step’s hand as she’d been advised.
“’Lo, Step,” Oak greeted him.
“Oak,” Step returned. “What’s with all the mystery?”
Oak was suddenly at a loss for words.
“Step, what if…uh, what if–”
“What if he told you I was alive?”
Aleks strode into the room.
• • • • •
CHAPTER 71
Step gaped at his brother. Aleks beamed back. Nadia stared open-mouthed, glanced back and forth from one brother to the other.
“Binyak!” the twins shouted at the same time.
“Thank god you’re alive!” Step exclaimed as he rose to his feet.
“Thank god you’re alive!” Aleks echoed, crossing the room.
The brothers embraced, each holding one hand on his brother’s shoulder, the other on the back of his head, their foreheads touching. They held the position for several seconds.
They broke apart to gawk at one another, grinning foolishly.
“I thought you were dead, Binyak,” Aleks said.
I thought I’d killed you.
“I thought you were in the office. When the Tower collapsed.”
“I thought you were dead, Binyak,” Step parroted. “I thought–”
I thought I’d strangled you to death.
“I…I thought I may have killed you,” Step blurted.
Aleks’s knees went weak when he heard his brother’s words.
You thought you killed me? What the fuck?
They stared at each other. Neither seemed to know what to say. Step finally broke the silence.
“I…I had amnesia.” He touched a hand to the place on his head where his wound had been. “As my muh-memory returned, I…I thought I’d killed you. And…and Connie. I thought I remembered killing you both.”
Aleks couldn’t have faked the look of stunned surprise on his face. He prepared for the worst. That Step had remembered finding him and Connie together that night.
“Whuh–why would you think that?” he mumbled.
Step waved Aleks away with one hand, as though he didn’t want to talk about it.
“Just silly thoughts. Images. I thought they were memories. I wasn’t sure. My mind has been a mess, Binyak. I was trying to figure it all out. Trying to remember. I, uh, I thought I saw you and Connie together. I don’t know.”
He held his hand to his forehead as though remembering was painful. The images of him struggling with the shadowman returned. Connie’s dead eyes appeared to haunt him yet again.
“I thought we’d fought. That I’d strangled you to death.”
Aleks saw no reason to deny their fight.
“We did fight, Binyak. You were furious with me,” he told him. “You didn’t kill me. Obviously.”
Aleks smiled. Step seemed concerned.
“Was it…did we fight over…Connie?” he asked hesitantly.
Aleks knew this was his opportunity to come clean. About their quarrel. About him and Connie. It was a chance to cleanse his soul, purge his conscious. Admit to the affair. He couldn’t see how that would change anything though. It might relieve some of the guilt Step was feeling. But a confession here, now, might also re-ignite Step’s anger. What was the point in that? Step had been through enough. After hearing Oak say Step had paid Ilya off, Aleks had hit on an idea. An out. He’d thought it through during the last minutes of the drive. Step already knew about the Russian and the money. No use trying to lie about that. Instead, Aleks felt he could use it to his advantage.
“No, Binyak. It wasn’t over Connie,” he lied. “We fought about the money. You found out about the Russian and the money. God, I’d never seen you so angry!”
Step experienced a flash of recollection.
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
They were in Step’s office, in the A/S/B Financial suite. Step was pacing, waving a handful of spreadsheets about in the air, finally plopping them down angrily on his desk.
“Are you trying to sabotage us, Aleks?”
Aleks cowered. Like a schoolgirl. Which only infuriated Step further.
His face grew large, red as he leaned close to Aleks. His voice suddenly grew deeper, slower.
“You got greedy, Aleks! You always get greedy.”
Then he was strangling Aleks. Had both hands around his neck, squeezed tightly.
“You always want what isn’t yours, Binyak!” he shouted.
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
He snapped out of it, surveyed the room, was glad to discover he was in his new home. With Nadia at his side. Oak sitting in the recliner. Aleks watching him closely.
Aleks?
He blinked several times, a puzzled look on his face.
“I, uh, I was…I remember our fight. It was in my office. But…where was Connie?”
Aleks could see Step’s memory hadn’t fully returned. That his brother was fuzzy on details. He believed he could use that to his advantage, as well.
“We argued in your office, Step. That was days earlier. The fight took place in my office. On the evening of the tenth. The evening before 9/11. Connie wasn’t there,” he said, uttering a second untruth.
He saw no reason not to admit to his part in Step’s injury. Hoped Step’s memory was spotty enough he wouldn’t question his older brother’s version of what had happened.
“I was working late,” he explained. “You stopped by to pick up some paperwork. We got into it. Again. I remember thinking you couldn’t be that upset just about the money. I thought you might have had an argument with Connie.”
He didn’t wait for his brother to conjure up a memory of an argument with his former wife that had never occurred.
“One thing led to another. You attacked me. I couldn’t fight you. You had crazy-man strength. I…I grabbed something off the desk. And I hit you with it. It was my statue. The Thinker.”
Step blinked, remained confused.
“But we…we were in my office, Binyak. How did your statue get into my office?”
“Step, it was my office. We argued in your office. We fought in mine. Let’s not get caught up in minor details, huh?”
Step looked away. Aleks continued telling his part of the story.
“You fell to the floor. Your skull was…your skull looked crushed. I couldn’t find a pulse. You…you weren’t responding. I thought you were dead, Binyak. I panicked. I
…I left you there. I’m so sorry, Binyak. I know it…that wasn’t the right thing to do. To just leave you there like that. I just wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t know what to do. I should have called 9-1-1. I…I should have done something.”
He hung his head in genuine shame for a moment before going on.
“The next morning, the morning of the eleventh, I went for a jog to clear my head. I was tormented. I was trying to figure out what to do. I even thought of turning myself in. Then I saw the Tower on fire. I thought to myself, ‘They’re gonna find ’em now.’”
Step was instantly tuned in to his brother’s words.
Did he say ‘them’? Find them? Them who? He and Connie? She was there!
“You said ‘them,’ Aleks? Them who?”
Alarmed momentarily, Aleks quickly recovered.
“Huh? Him, Binyak. You.”
“Aleks, you said, ‘They’re gonna find them now,’” Step accused. “Was Connie there? Because in my dream memories, I see a dead blond. I remember strangling her. Did I kill Connie, Al? Are you covering up for me?”
Aleks couldn’t believe his ears. Somehow, Step knew he’d killed Connie. He had the details all wrong, but he knew. That he was making Aleks out to be some kind of heroic brother was mindboggling.
“Connie wasn’t there. What I said was, ‘They’re gonna find ’im now.’ ’im, Step, not ’em. We ain’t gonna argue a bi’ o’ seman’ics now, are we, ’enry ’iggins?”
He hoped the bad cockney accent he’d often used to get a smile out of Step would defuse the situation.
“I uz just bein’ a tad lazy with me pro-nun-cee-ay-shun, Binyak. Nuh’in’ mo’, ma’ey.”
“’E might’ve said ’im,” Oak interjected on Aleks’s behalf, badly aping the accent.
Step’s silence seemed to indicate he’d conceded. But his suspicion was growing. He wasn’t so sure Aleks hadn’t slipped up. If Connie had been there, if Step had killed her, it would explain why his brother hadn’t called 9-1-1. One body could be an accident. Two bodies were a lover’s triangle gone bad.
Aleks cleared his throat, finished the saga.
“Uh, anyway, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get into the Tower that morning because it was being evacuated. I watched everything on the news from the Bleecker. I saw both Towers burn, then collapse. Watching the North Tower going down sent an ice-cold dagger through my heart, Binyak. I was certain you were in there. I thought I’d never see you again.”