On Tenterhooks (19 page)

“There were several more
like
that
in the stack
, much of the same,” said Steve. “The kid was a great
athlete, a good student and
had a large circle of friends. One of the articles mention
s
a
sister, Abigail
.
She’s only 18
.
I found her online
.
I
t was pretty easy
to get her parents
’
address, after I got their names
from the articles. So we
kinda
know how to reach her
. . .”

Martin nodded, skimming the other articles.

“Hey
,
I
have
a question for you,” said Steve, “a
nd this is gonna sound weird. Have you talked to a preacher lately?”

“A preacher?
You mean like the pastor at my church?”

“No, I mean like a stranger
.
Well, he was a stranger to me
, kind of
.
I met this bizarre guy
,
dressed like a preacher
,
in the airport this morning
, but I’ve seen him before
.
I think he knew who I was and
—”

“Was he
super
pale? Like his skin
was .
.
. translucent
?” Martin
interrupted
.

“Yes!
You’ve seen him?”
 

“I think so.
But .
. .
it was in my dreams.”

“Your dreams
?
” Steve
repeated,
eyes wide
.

“Yes
, well
,
more like nightmares.
I keep having this nightmare about how
Maggie
died
.
And he’s in it
.
He’s the one
who
kills her.”

“
The same thing has been happening to me
,
too,
Martin.
I have the same dream over and over
.
In it, I am with my wife when she had her car accident
.
The driver of the other car is that man
.
I think it was t
he same man I saw today at the airport.”

“He wa
s in my store this week.
At least I think
he’s the one
.
I got a photo off the security cam, but I can’t be certain
that’s who it is
.
This is
too much coincidence.
What the hell is going on
,
Steve?”

“
I have no idea.
It must be connected, but I can’t figure out what it all means
.”

“Then what next?”

“I dunno,” said Steve
.
“I guess maybe we should try to
contact the others on the list,
see if they’ve had a similar experience.”

“
Good id
ea.
So what
about
the one besides Nikko
. . .
Ryder?”
Martin asked, looking back at Steve’s list.

“Well,
here’s
a list of a bunch of
Veronica
Ryders in New York
, but I have not yet figured out a way to tell whi
c
h is the
right one,
”
Steve admitted.
“I
also
did several searches
on
Helen
Ryder, her mother,
and this is the only thing I found, which I
think
might be right
.”

He passed another article across the ta
ble to Martin, this one from
The
Elysburg
News
& Advance
. It was an obituary for a smiling older woman:

Helen Ryder
,
ELYSBURG
—
Helen Louise Ryder
,
64
, p
assed away
January 13
, 2010
,
in Cozumel, Mexico
. She was born in
Elysburg, Pa,
April 9, 19
46
to the late
Robert
and
Eustacia
Ralston
. Mrs.
Ryder
was a retired home economics teacher for
Elysburg
Public Schools. She was a longtime member of
Elysburg
Church
of Christ
,
where she
was an active teacher and participant in the adult
Bible
classes
.
She is remembered
as
a wonderful mother, mother-in-law, grandmother and a good friend. She was preceded in death by her husband,
Raymond Ryder
,
and sister,
Constance Albert
. Left to cherish her memory are her daughter,
Louise
Weldon and son-in-law Marcus
;
daughter
Veronica
, now of New York
City
; grandchildren,
Nicole
Weldon
and
Thomas Weldon
;
and
a loving group of extended family and friends.
A graveside service will be held at 10 a.m.
Tuesday, Jan
. 19, at
Azalea
Memorial Park.
Stone
Brothers
Funeral Home is handling the arrangements. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the
 
Elysburg Preservation Society.

“Okay,” said Martin, “s
o she died in Mexico, presumably SCUBA diving?”

Steve shrugged.
“Yeah,
I guess so
.
If
this
list I found is accurate
.
The article doesn’t mention how she died.
”

“So we’ve got a long list of
Veronica
Ryders in New York City,” said Martin. “But since I’ve never heard of it, I am willing to bet Elysburg is not a big place. Maybe we could get ahold of somebody there
,
somebody in this obituary
,
and get better contact info for Mrs. Ryder.”

“Good idea,” said Steve, nodding. He scanned the article. “Let’s try this other daughter
,
Louise
.”

“Okay, but how do we ge
t her to give us
Veronica
’s info?
I don’t
think
you’re going to get much out of her if you try
to
tell her what’s going on here, do you?”

“No.”

Steve
studied
the stack of articles.

“I
have
an idea,
though.
I think I’ve got a perfect
plan
of how to do it!”

Chapter
2
4

“Hello, this is
Veronica
Ryder,” said
Veronica
,
into the phone.

“
Veronica
?
Hi! My name is Steve Connor. You don’t know me, but I
need to talk to you
. Yo
u’
re from Elysburg, Pennsylvania, right?
”

“Yes,” said
Veronica
, with hesitation. “How can I help you?”

“Right
.
Well, I, we, need to talk to you about your
m
om’s death in Mexico.”

“I’m sorry, w
ho did you say you’re with?”

“With?
Uh, n
o one
.
I mean, this isn’t a business ca
ll at all. Look,
Ms. Ryder
, w
e need to talk
. . .
in person
.
I think we should do it soon.
Have you seen
a
preacher?
”

“Look, Steve is it?
I don’t know who you are or what kind of scam you’re running, but I do not have the time or the interest to continue this conversation. Do not call again.”

Steve heard the line
go dead and then switch back to dial tone.

“Well?” asked Martin
, sitting across from Steve
.

“Well
,
I think that could’ve gone better.”

Steve and Martin were sitting in the lobby of their New York hotel
.
They’d arrived late last night after boarding a
flight
from Norfolk International to
LaGuardia
. Martin had only been to New York City once
,
but Steve had been several times for technology
conferences
. H
e knew his way around well enough to
get them settled in
to a
reasonably
priced
independent hotel
in
nearby
Midtown
.

“She didn’t say anything about the preacher?” asked Martin.

“She basically didn’t say anything about a
nything.
I think it got to her when I mentioned her
m
om. It was pretty much downhill from there. She told me not to call her again.”

“Okay.
So what now?
How far is it to her office from here?”

Steve pulled his file folder out of his rucksack and
searched
for the sticky note with
Veronica
’s information on it.

“Let’s see.
We are on 5
7th
Street
and Fifth
.
Her office is down
23
rd
, near
Park
.
That’s not very far
.
We can grab a ca
b
out front and be there in about
1
0 minutes
.”

Steve shoved the folder back in
to
his backpack.

“How far is it to walk?” asked Martin.

“Walk? Wow.
I dunno.
Probably two miles
.
But this is New York, Martin, in March.
”

“Good.
Let’s walk. That’ll give her time to cool down and us time to figure out
what
we’re going to say when we get there that she’ll actually listen to.”

Steve
looked at
his traveling companion
skeptically
.

“Don’t you want to get there quickly?  I am very
eager
to hear if she is having the same experiences as
we are
.”

“Yes, of
course
,
I want to talk to her.
I can’t explain to you how
bizarre this whole experience has been for me
.
Hearing my daughter’s voice on that
radio .
.
. it
was beautiful, but scary at the same time. Trust me when I sa
y I want answers too. T
hat’s why I think we should take the long route. It’ll give us some time to come up with the right words
to
keep her from throwing us out.”

Steve nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “That makes sense.
I suppose a slight delay is worth it in the long run. B
ut it’s gonna be cold out there
,
man
.
Bundle up!
”

They gathered their coats and headed out the revolving door that opened up onto the sounds of
the
morning
rush hour traffic in
Midtown
Manhattan.
Steve took the lead as they walked down Fifth Avenue
.
Last night’s snow was piled on the sidewalks, but it was already
a
dingy dishwater gray from the constant foot traffic and
vehicle
exhaust
.
Only a block into their trek, they were feeling pummeled by the weather. Wind
gathered speed as
it
squeezed through the narrow alleyways and clawed at their exposed ears
.
The frigid air caused their noses to run and their toes to numb
.

“So, you’ve only been here once?
”
asked Steve.

“Yes sir
,
long tim
e ago
.
June
had a conference on technology in the courtroom or some such thing,
way
back in the
80s
.
I tagged along to take a bite out of the Big Apple
.
I remember it being a lot dirtier then, but it was definitely warmer.”

“Well, first thing you should know about t
he city
is that nobody here calls it the
‘
Big Apple.
’
Second thing to keep in mind is that if you know where to look, you can always find something beautiful here, no matter what season or what weat
her
.
Come on,
I’ll show you what I mean.”

He stopped short and pointed out a bronze statue of a muscular man holding a sphere of banded metal
.

“Know this guy?” Steve asked.

“Looks a little familiar,” replied Martin
.
“Atlas maybe?”

“You got it.
He was a half-man, half god who fought against the gods of Olympia
.
He thought
he
was the bomb
.
He did al
l
right at it, ‘til he lost that war
.
After he was defeated, the gods punished him by forcing him to carry the earth on his shoulders.”

Martin nodded and circled the statue, admiring the bronze
work.

“You know,
I think I know how he feels.”

“Yeah, exactly.
But look at
his expression
.
Impossible burden, yet he’s defiant in the face of it. That’s where I want to be.”

“Amen to that
.”

“C’mere, let me show you one more thing
.
”
Steve
led Martin around the back of the statue.

“Back up with me here.
Now check him out from the back,” he said
.
They stood several feet
away
from the
statue, which
faced Fifth Avenue.
Atlas kneeled under the weight of the world
.

“What am I looking for?” Martin asked.

“Well, here’s
something I’ve always wondered
—
n
ever made much out of it until now
.
I’ve been thinking about it since we decided to come to the City.
Is he kneeling ‘cause of the weight
,
or is he praying, looking over there for strength?”

Martin followed Steve’s words and recognized for the first time the towering dual spires of St. Patrick’s Cathedral across Fifth Avenue
.
The statue almost seemed to be bowing down, in the face of the church.

“I’ll be darned.
How about that? You think that was intentional?”

“I dunno.
I don’t want to find
out
either
.
I’d like to think so
.
I guess what you see and what you take from it
sometimes starts from within.”

Martin took off his
gloves and placed his palms on the marble base of the statue. He
stared up at the bronze demi-god.

“Come on, I
’ve
got one more stop for you,” Steve said.

They walked through the plaza to the observation deck above the skating rink
.
Despite the cold and the dreary winter sky overhead, the rink itself was loud and crowded with young couples, old couples, parents and children
.
Shouts of greeting and laughter rose above the music at the rink in echoing tones up to the balcony where Martin and Steve watched the crowd below
.
Steve watched the young couples
.
Martin watched the families with young children as they fell on the ice, laughing as they
los
t
their
balance and slid up and down.

“
G
ives you hope,” Steve remarked.

“Oh yeah,
we got hope in the world
—
but it
needs to be stronger.”

“It’s nice to see it
,
though,” said Steve
.
“Freezing cold, nasty skies, brutal
wind .
.
. yet
people are still laughing, smiling and in love.”

They watched the skaters below for several minutes.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Steve asked.

“Sure.”

“
I cannot imagine what i
t
would be like to lose a child.
The pain of
it
. . .
I can’t even begin to realize that. How do you, y’know, deal with that?”

“Well,
you just do, I suppose
.
I mean, don’
t get me wrong,
I am still a right-bit messed up inside
over her
these days
.
But I
’ve
got 20 years of memories, beautiful memories, to look back on
.
That doesn’t make it easy, but it makes it bearable
.
And I can do bearable for as long as it takes to move on.”

“Move on?
That sounds so final, like you want to forget.”