Pay Up and Die (2 page)

His wife, Stephanie Wright, rolled over and caressed his arm. “Another bad dream about the money?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

“Yeah. It was worse than usual.”

“We have to figure something out so you can feel better. You can’t continue to have these dreams every night. It’s affecting your sleep and your mood. And depriving me of beauty sleep,” Stephanie kidded to lighten the atmosphere.

Michael ran a hand through his wavy, dark hair and exhaled. He flopped back onto the bed. His blue eyes searched the ceiling for an answer where none existed. The white undershirt stuck to his chest.

Stephanie propped herself up on one arm and rubbed his chest with her other hand. A delicious curl of long blond hair slipped down across her face, shadowing one deep brown eye. Michael felt her breast mashed against his side as she reached up to tuck the curl behind her ear.

“Wanna tell me about it,” she coaxed.

Michael exhaled loudly again. He tried to organize his thoughts so the tale sounded coherent as opposed to the chaotic pattern of the nightmare.

“We were having a big fight over the bills. You kept insisting that you could get your parents to help us out. I was trying to sell the kids for money. Sell. The kids. How crazy is that?”

“Well I don’t think our kids can fetch a large enough sum on the open market to solve our financial problems,” Stephanie kidded again.

“It’s not a joke, Steph. This is serious. What kind of father could even contemplate selling his children to pay off debts? It’s absurd. I mean, it’s bad enough I got us into this big mess and now I’m dreaming of ridding my kids as a solution,” he whined.

“Honey, I know you would never do something like that to hurt our kids or this family.” She bent over and kissed his cheek with her full lips. “You have always tried to do the right thing by us and we’ve just had some bad luck.”

Michael snorted. “Bad luck. That’s funny. Bad luck is something that happens once, briefly. We have been sliding downhill for years now and it just keeps getting worse. I don’t know what else to do anymore.”

Stephanie sat up and slipped her nightgown straps off her shoulders, revealing her beautiful breasts. They were both fully rounded and her pink nipples puckered up to the chill of being exposed. “Maybe I can relax you a bit.”

Michael slid out of bed and started to pace the floor. “I’m sorry but I can’t even conceive of sex at this moment. I’m out of my mind with stress and fear about keeping us afloat. What are we going to do, Steph?”

Feeling rejected, Stephanie’s seductive grin faded. She sighed and pulled up her nightgown straps over her shoulders.

“Well, when are you going to hear back from Derrick about the loan? Shouldn’t we have gotten an approval by now? You did convey the importance of this money, didn’t you? I mean, he knows your daughter’s life is hanging in the balance, right?”

Exasperated, Michael stopped pacing and stared at Stephanie. “Of course he knows about Allison’s surgery. That was the first thing I brought up when I asked him for the special approval. Look, they know how deep we are and regardless of Allison’s situation, the bank is not going to issue checks to anyone who asks for one. Derrick can only pull so many strings at his level, especially with the big corporate push to recover bad loans. Company-wide the mandate is to reign in these potential losses and not take on more risky investments until the Board ratifies the new organizational changes. There’s a lot at stake.”

“And your daughter’s life is not at stake? You sound like you are taking the bank’s side of this instead of your own family’s.”

“I’m not taking sides, Steph. That’s ridiculous. Of course I want to get money to save Allison’s life but our options are very limited in this environment. You think I asked for this life? When was the last time we took a nice vacation, Stephanie? Better yet, when was the last time we took any vacation? All our money has been flushed down the toilet by this damn house and the cars breaking down and getting braces for Andrew and everything else. I have done it with smoke and mirrors for over ten years now, between balance transfers with the credit cards and home equity loans. We ate up our rainy day funds little by little too with all the Christmas gifts each year and fundraisers for school. Nothing left for us, Steph. Nothing. And now our daughter may die because of it and I feel horrible. Devastated.”

Stephanie drew the sheets aside and came around the bed to hold Michael. She pulled him close and rested her head on his strong chest.

“I know, sweetie. You have done a wonderful job taking care of us with what little we have. You are so smart and creative and you always come up with a plan that gets us through each hard time. I know you will do it again. I guess I’m just frustrated to see you like this and I’m worried about Allison. I’m sorry I pushed you just now. Maybe we should just try to go back to sleep and deal with it in the morning. What do you say?”

Michael gently broke free of Stephanie’s embrace. He opened the closet door to grab a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. “I can’t sleep now. My mind is racing and I am too worked up. Besides, I don’t want to fall into that dream cycle again. It is horrifying and it is only getting worse. I tried to sell our kids for money. What is the next dream going to be about? Are we going to be eating the kids because we can’t afford to buy groceries? I need to get out of here.”

“But where are you going? It’s the middle of the night. Come to bed, honey. Let’s just hold each other.”

“No,” Michael cut her off. “I’m going to go for a run and see if I can burn off some of these thoughts. My head always clears after a good run because it lets my mind work silently in the background while I concentrate on my breathing. I won’t be gone long.”

“But only bad people go out at this hour of the night. Nothing good happens when someone goes out after midnight. Don’t go,” she protested.

Without responding, he opened the bedroom door and started to walk down the hall to the staircase. She bent over to put on her slippers and grab her robe when she heard the back door click shut. He was already gone. Stephanie hugged herself and sat on the end of the bed. A tear slipped over her warm cheek and splashed into her lap.

Chapter 3

His muscles were tight. Even with a good stretch, Michael noticed his age catching up with him. There was a time when he could just lace up his sneakers and start running without stretching first. Those were the days. Now he had to walk at a brisk pace for five minutes and then stop to stretch for another five minutes before jaunting off. Forty years old is the new thirty, he teased himself. His left hamstring was feeling tight and his shin splints were barking in both legs. He thought for a moment that all he needed was for his plantar fasciitis to kick in and he would be sidelined some more with his “old man” injuries.

Despite the body aches, Michael enjoyed the run. It was peaceful at this hour. No cars on the streets and no nosy neighbors waving to him as he jogged through the neighborhood. Dumont is a small town, situated in a little over a square mile. It is surrounded by upscale communities filled with doctors and Wall Streeters. Quaint little capes adorn most streets with a smattering of ‘McMansions’, the overly large homes squeezed into tiny lots. The rest of the homes are colonials with an average age nearing a century. The streets are lined with huge sycamore trees which shed their bark, leaving piles of shavings on the asphalt and sidewalks.

Michael turned the corner to head up the main drag which bisects the neighborhood. He couldn’t believe that he had gotten them into this mess. The guilt was overwhelming at not being able to provide a better life for his family. A college degree and two decades of working his butt off to earn promotions and raises and yet, here he was. Broke and going nowhere fast. What the hell happened to the “American Dream?” It seemed everywhere you turned there were more stories of foreclosures and bankruptcies. Large companies were failing, heck, even the bank he worked at was struggling with its financial decisions over the last few years. Nobody was safe but he found no consolation in the group misery index. He cared about his own family first. Stephanie chose him when she could have chosen someone with a better financial outlook. After all, she came from money. Her parents were well off after several business ventures and some real estate run-ups through the 80’s and 90’s. She should have a better life. A more prosperous life with no financial worries. But he failed her.

The poor kids, too. Although they had no choice in who their parents were. But they both deserved better. Andrew was thirteen now and growing up so quickly. He was starting to show interest in girls, styling his thick brown hair like the pop stars. His grades were good. He was very skilled at baseball and it helped that he was lean and strong for his age. Andrew never complained about not having the best digital gadgets and expensive trinkets that all his peers had. He was content to use last year’s model or the less popular brands. What a great kid. And then there was Allison. Little Ally was so beautiful, taking after her mother. She had the same long blond hair and smoldering brown eyes. She was daddy’s little girl in every sense. But Allison was plagued with health issues. Another generous hand-me-down from her failure of a father. She had a rare disease that affected an infinitesimal portion of the population, which he just happened to have deep within his bloodline. The gene was recessive for many generations but every so often reared its ugly head and Ally was the lucky winner. The poor girl had years of transfusions and a few surgeries to try to alter her chemical attributes but nothing cured it. She never complained about all the treatments and never felt sorry for herself. If you didn’t know her situation you would swear she was a typical, happy ten year old girl. But Michael knew. He was the one that gave her the disease through his lineage and now he was the one who was going to kill her because he couldn’t fund the new experimental procedure that could save her precious life.

As Michael’s thoughts ran away with him, his mood began to change and he felt sick to his stomach. Michael dropped to his knees on someone’s front lawn and vomited. His back arching in spasms. His face contorted in anguish as he continued to heave after his stomach no longer supplied the contents. He started to weep and rolled over into a fetal position, cradling his knees to his chest as he cried. Hard. He was lost in his hopelessness, unconscious of how he might appear should somebody pull back their curtains and find him like this. He failed. All he had to do was provide for his family and protect them. The two things that were most important to him and he couldn’t do it. They lived check to check and borrowed liberally from credit cards and loans to bridge the gaps when emergencies arose. They always seemed to pop up. And an evil disease was eating his beautiful little girl from the inside and he couldn’t fight it off for her. He was useless. His family would be better off if he just killed himself so they could collect the insurance money. And then Steph could find a real husband with money. And the kids could have a real father who provided and protected them. But he was even a failure at that. Too much of a coward to take one for the team and sacrifice himself so that they could win. What a disgrace. An utter failure.

After several more minutes of self-loathing, Michael sat up and tried to compose himself. It felt cathartic to release all the pain but it left him exhausted. He slowly stood up and got his bearings, not even remembering which street he was on. He realized he was near the town’s park and it was a quick walk to his favorite bench. The bench was in a perfect, secluded alcove offering spectacular views of the summer sunsets. Since he was in the area he figured he would give it a test run in the middle of the night, enjoying the moonlight and canopy of stars.

As he started to head in the direction of the park, Michael thought he heard the sound of tires peeling rubber. It seemed odd on such a quiet night but he disregarded it as kids being kids somewhere in a distant parking lot. He wished he were young and carefree again. But life had dealt him some hurdles he would have to overcome. Resigned, Michael walked the rest of the way to the park.

Chapter 4

Sitting on the bench brought tranquility to Michael. This was the first opportunity he had to enjoy the spot at such a late hour, not that it was on his bucket list. The stars shone faintly as the luminescence of the full moon dulled the rest of the sky.

Michael thought about his earlier hysterics and wished he could have buried it deeper inside. He liked to present a tougher exterior to his wife and kids even though he rarely displayed outward toughness. He was a proud man but he wasn’t proud about his outburst at this moment.

The silence was broken by the sound of screeching tires, this time much closer. Michael spun around on the bench just in time to catch a small silver hatchback sliding sideways at the corner of Charles Street and Hillcrest. The small car jumped the yellow curb and crashed into a large landscaping bed with a huge ornamental grass in the middle. Before he could comprehend what he just saw, Michael witnessed a large black pickup truck without its headlights on slamming on its brakes. It skidded to a stop just in time to avoid jumping the same curb. The pickup truck looked sinister as it was lifted higher than the factory issued package, and its tricked out grill resembled a big black maw about to devour whatever stood before it.

Just as quickly an extremely large man in a black and red flannel shirt and faded blue jeans hopped down from the truck. He left the door open and walked over to the driver’s side of the crashed hatchback. The large man smashed his fist through the window and yanked out the much smaller bald man by his throat.

“What are you doing, you lunatic?” Michael yelled at the large man as he dashed across the park. It seemed excessive behavior for an obvious incident of road rage. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He tried to wrap his arms around the large man as he approached from behind. The man was so big and muscular that Michael felt like a rag doll dangling off the brute’s back.