Gifts and Consequences (20 page)

At times he was grateful for the ignorance that had set in with full-blown Alzheimer’s.  Susan didn’t have to feel the person she loved more than anyone in the world slip away one memory at a time any more.  He was glad for her sake that she no longer cared.

It killed him that she didn’t remember how they met, their first date, or their wedding day.  Mercifully she didn’t remember losing all of her friends, Mary’s untimely death, or forgetting her husband’s name. 

It had been over a year since they had made love, but that wasn’t as difficult as he had expected.  He still longed for the intimacy they shared for decades, but sex became just another thing missing from their relationship.  From her personality changes, to the loss of traditions and inside jokes, to a complete lack of recognition. 

He never thought it was possible to endure so much emotional pain.  Susan had been prophetic in anticipating the rift that would come between them.

The nurse opened the door and Jonathan went in.  Susan sat in her accustomed chair.  Jonathan stopped a few feet away to look at her.  For the first time she looked truly sick—creased forehead, lightless eyes, dusky skin.  She made him think of an old-lady zombie.  In place of her poised, youthful face an ailing woman, ten years his senior looked back. 

Doctors had warned Jonathan that her degeneration would happen in spurts.  As with many of Susan’s negative diagnoses, he refused to believe it until he saw it.  Her steady and slow deterioration over the last three years had given him hope that she might live longer and degenerate slower than they predicted.  

When Susan saw him, her hand went to the neckline of her blouse.  He actually dreaded the day when she would cease to be concerned with modesty, as it would signal a further slip.  The nurse closed the door as she walked out.

Jonathan watched closely for signs of concern, but Susan was not alarmed by their lack of a chaperone.  “Hi Susan.  It’s me, Jonathan.  Your husband.”  He waited for her to ask about her sister Mary as she had done two weeks straight, but she didn’t reply.  Her vacant expression reflected her uncomprehending mind. 

“I brought you a flower,” he said and extended it to her. 

She didn’t reach out for it or respond.  He placed it in the vase.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked.

Still no answer.

“Would you like to hear a story?”  That had never failed to elicit a positive response.  Until tonight.  Her lifeless eyes stared back at him.

He thought back to the initial doctor visits. 

“Eventually she will reach a state of aphasia,” Dr Vallenga had told him.  “That is to say she will not speak.  It will come and go as each day passes, but the frequency of occurrence will continually increase.  It will be a sign of her final descent.”

Unbidden, Jonathan told Susan about a woman in Richmond, Virginia named Maria who wanted more than anything to be a citizen of the United States.  She promised to fly a US flag from the porch of her apartment every day for the rest of her life and to learn fluent English within one year.  It only took her six months.  She was sworn in as a U.S. citizen a week later.

Susan’s expression didn’t change.  Jonathan was at a loss, so he reached out and wiped the imaginary smudge of food from her cheek.  Susan’s lower lip trembled as she reached up and returned the gesture.  A tear formed in the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek.

Jonathan carefully wiped the very real tear from her cheek, then dropped his arm to rest around her shoulder.  Susan did not pull away so he slid his chair closer to her La-Z-Boy.  She slowly rested her head on his shoulder.  They sat like that until Susan drifted off.

By the time Warr woke, the room had darkened with the setting sun.  Oscar saw him stare at the ceiling for a moment, then look toward the drawn blinds.

He leaned up on his elbows and looked around, obviously confused.  Oscar knew how disorienting it could be to awaken at an odd hour.  At first glance Warr missed him completely, which heightened Oscar’s anticipation.  Warr scanned the room again and his eyes settled unconcerned on Oscar’s form. 

In the dim light Oscar saw him squint and lean forward. 

Suddenly Warr shot backwards out of his bed, barely landing on his feet.  He screamed, “What the—who are you?”

Oscar delayed his response to allow tension to build.  This was definitely a Christian Bale moment.  Adam West would never do in this dark, suspenseful setting.  In a guttural tone he said, “I’m someone who was in your situation once.”

“Why the hell are you in my bedroom?”  Warr had a wall to his back and stood in a defensive stance.

Again he paused for effect.  His stillness increased the anticipation but decreased the threat.  Warr slowly assumed a more natural posture.

“Why did you let her go, Mr. Warr?”

Warr shrunk and his eyes shifted around the room.  “I just couldn’t stay awake any longer,” he whined.

“It’s your daughter, man.  When I lost mine I went five days without a wink.  Five bloody days!”

Warr had no answer so Oscar added, “You couldn’t go two days without sleeping when your daughter was missing?”

“She’s not missing; I know who took her.  I just need to find out where they are so the Bitch can go to jail for taking her.”

“How do you expect to find her?  You spent your savings to pay off witnesses against ‘the Bitch.’  There aren’t many jurisdictions that place a very high priority on interstate custody battles.”

“Custody battle my ass!”  Warr kicked the bed but didn’t get any closer to Oscar.  “Kindnapping is more like it.”

“It’s a battle you won’t win.  When you broke our deal you lost a powerful ally and created a determined foe.”  Oscar felt it was time to stand.  At five foot six he was much shorter than the other man.

Warr scoffed, “And what’s a little leprechaun like you going to do?”

Oscar didn’t move.  “Exactly what my employer said we would.  Unlike you, Mr. Warr, we keep our word.”

“He said you’d make sure I never got custody, but I don’t believe him.  You have no bearing in the case.”

“We didn’t until you accepted our help.  Maybe we’ll present doctored evidence to make you look like a monster in front of a judge.  Sound familiar?” 

“She is a monster!” shouted Warr. 

“Of course, we might take the easy way and present your ex-wife’s attorney the evidence we have of your false witnesses.  I’m sure they would find bribery and perjury very interesting.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.”  Warr came around the bed and stared down at Oscar.

“He’s gone much farther in the past.  It doesn’t help your case that when we made the deal we thought you might actually be in the right.”

“You son of a…” Warr drew his fist back.  In Oscar’s heightened state he easily side-stepped, grabbing Warr’s arm and using the larger man’s own momentum to swing him around and onto the bed.  Embarrassing his opponents in cases like these was much more satisfying than inflicting physical pain.

Oscar said to the surprised Warr, “By the way, my employer values my opinion immensely.  I was in a similar position and have no respect for a piece of shite like you.”

He walked out, not looking back.  “Two days.”  Oscars tsked, loud enough for Warr to hear him.  “You should be ashamed.”

Oscar reached to pull down the impromptu curtain and felt a Mack truck slam into his back followed by what sounded like a cannon.   He was thrown forward into the dark sheet.

Entangled in a dark shroud his thoughts wandered. 
I haven’t been shot in years.  I forgot how much it hurts.

In his ear someone shouted, “Oscar!  Oscar!  What happened?”  It was a woman and she sounded familiar.

Oscar raked his arms through the sheet to disentangle himself and heard Warr in the hallway. 

“Enforce that, Paddy.”

Warr loomed over him in the dim hallway.  Pain coursed in waves through Oscar’s back and that woman kept shouting in his ear.

It was dark outside when Lisa awoke, but light shone from the bare bulb in the hallway.  At first she didn’t know what time it was or why she had shoes on in bed, but her hand went on its own to her forehead.  There was nothing there.

She sat up slowly.  Her clock read 9:07.  School started almost an hour ago!  She was already dressed, but these were yesterday’s clothes.  She jumped out of bed, slipped her shoes off and unbuttoned her pants in one motion. 

Mr. Henderson, the Western Civ teacher, wouldn’t care, but second-hour started in fourteen minutes.  Mrs. Ilapi always asked a lot of questions. 

No time for a shower but she grabbed a clean pair of underwear.  When she bent to put her foot in she was looking straight at the window.  Darkness showed around the blinds. 

Wearing nothing but her underwear and shirt, she crept into the small front room and opened the curtain a fraction of an inch.  Dark.  It only took a moment to realize it was 9:07 at night, and she had graduated more than a month before.

Embarrassed to be half naked outside her room she hurried back to get dressed.  As she put her pajamas on, the recollection of the events from that afternoon came back to her in a flood.  She felt like she had to sit down and took advantage of the edge of the bed.  Her hand went involuntarily to her forehead again as she sat and remembered the kiss Charlie gave her before he left. 

Her hand hovered there at her forehead.  She realized that she hated neither the kiss nor the lingering memory of it.

The last thought in her mind before she’d fallen asleep in the afternoon was to open the door to Buck’s room and get the pistol.  The door had been closed since the night of her first date.  After sleeping away her anxiety and with the memory of Charlie’s kiss and kind words she had no desire to go anywhere near his room.

“I’m here for you,” he had told her.  Try as she might, Lisa couldn’t convince herself that he was anything but a very good friend who wanted to be even more. 

Maybe I can make it on my own if I don’t have to do it on my own.

Now that some time had passed, the nerves of inviting Charlie over had subsided and she actually felt a sense of accomplishment for being bold enough to admit another person into the apartment.  Into her life.  The good feelings wouldn’t last forever.  It wouldn’t take long for her to talk herself out of the rare boldness.

Before she had a chance to wimp out she hurried to the phone and dialed Charlie’s number.  A small voice in her head told her that he’d want nothing to do with her after being thrown out of the apartment but she gripped the receiver with both hands.

His mom answered and Lisa almost hung up. 

“Is Charlie there?” she managed.

“Hi Lisa!  How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” she said, slightly more confidently.

“Hold on, Honey, I’ll go get him.”

Seconds later she heard him running across his wood floor.  “Hello?” he blurted as soon as the receiver was in his hand.

“Charlie?  It’s Lisa.”

“What’s wrong?”  She had never called him on the phone, even though he gave her his number months ago.

“Mm, nothing.  I’m ok.  I was wondering, do you think you could help me out?  I think I want to try to…open a bank account.  Or something.”

“Yeah, of course.  How about tomorrow morning?”

“That soon?”

“Yep,” he answered.  “No point in waiting.”

The line was silent. 

“Okay,” Lisa finally said.  “I think I can do that.  If…you go with me.”

“I got your back.”

“Thanks,” she answered.  Even though it came out quietly, she added, “Maybe someday I can get your back.”

“I know you already do," he said.  "Even if it’s hard to say.”

“And Charlie,” she said.  “I’m sorry I swore at you.”

“Huh?”

“When you picked me up for our first date.  I told you to go to hell and die.”  It took effort to repeat the swear word out loud.  “I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh, that,” he chuckled.  “I think you said something about Tyler, too, but one thing at a time.  You can explain that some other time.”

Twelve hours later they stood at the counter of Buffalo Metropolitan Federal Credit Union.  She didn’t want to use Buck’s bank, or any bank.  Credit unions were smaller and less scary.  She held $300 from Buck’s account in one hand and Charlie’s hand in her other.  She was really going to do it.  Within a half an hour she had a book of checks and her own debit card. 

The banker let her pick her own PIN.  She entered 0507, the date of her first date with Charlie, but was too embarrassed to tell him.  Hopefully he couldn’t tell by her blush.

As they exited the credit union Charlie said, “Next step is to get that trust fund in your name.  And I think you may be entitled to support from the state for college.”

At the mention of college she stopped in her tracks.

“Don’t worry, we’ll go one step at a time.”