Piano in the Dark (18 page)

I had the cab take me to the Heights, not knowing if I was right. Inside the envelope, among the papers to which I hadn’t paid much attention, was an address on Nicholson Street.

The address of the couple where Ava first showed up.

The place Ava claimed was her home and not theirs.

My cab driver, a thin little man named Baku, knew how best to get there, taking I-45 north to I-10 west followed by hasty exit onto North Shepherd, which is where we were now.

“Are you okay back there, my man?” he asked, splitting his vision between looking for Dorothy Street and monitoring my condition in the rearview mirror.

“Go. Just go,” I instructed. It seemed the closer we came to this address in the psych file, the more unbearable the daggers in my skull became. I quit talking, speaking only when I had to, so as to stave it off. Maybe it wasn’t the location, but the woman I sought who was triggering this intense reaction in me. Only fitting that other irrational actions were triggered when in her presence. Maybe this was the culmination…a reversal of our attraction.

Where she was making me sick.

Literally.

Finding Dorothy Street, Baku slowed just enough to make the turn without knocking me around too much. We sped by Lawrence Park, then zigged onto West Eighth Street, picking up speed. I clenched my teeth and tried to focus beyond my discomfort.

My anticipation grew as we edged the two blocks up Nicholson, looking for the right address. If Ava wasn’t here, I was lost. But I knew she and the baby were.

The hairs on the back of my neck were speaking to me through the pain. The same electricity from that night outside the pub.

“Stop,” I called out with eyes closed.

“Are you sure?” my driver asked.

I opened my eyes to see a two-story traditional home in chocolate with ivory trim. The front gate was askew and a
FOR SALE
sign was posted in the tiny front yard. Per the psych report, Ava had claimed it was hers and not the couple’s.

Now she could claim sole possession. For a fairly new home, this wasn’t much of a surprise in neighborhoods around Houston these days. People who were overextended were forced to make tough choices.

I handed my cabbie his fare plus another twenty.

“That’s very generous of you, sir,” he said with an appreciative smile. “Need me to stay?”

“No. You’ve been very helpful, but I’ll take it from here,” I replied as I opened the cab door.

“I don’t think there’s anybody there,” Baku said as he craned his neck in the direction of the house we were parked in front of.

“Somebody’s there,” I stated before I shut the door and patted on the roof for him to be off.

A wave of nausea overcame me as I entered the gate. Could’ve sworn I felt the ground move beneath me too.

Exhaustion.

Exhaustion and the injuries I’d ignored until now.

Steadying myself, I walked onto the porch and peered into the front window. Saw nothing and the front door was still locked. But the hairs on my neck were taut as wires. I tried desperately to test the door, but it won. Excruciating pain now shot through my broken arm from trying to be a hero. I stepped down off the porch and tried to look around back. There was only the tiniest of spaces between the home and the fence that divided the properties, but I shoved myself along the side, banging my knees as I inched toward the rear.

Several minutes passed before I emerged, dirty and scratched up, to free myself. I climbed onto the back deck and looked inside the kitchen. The French doors had been busted open with a large ceramic pot that now rested on the hardwood floors just inside. I entered, following Ava’s presumed path as tiny bits of broken glass shifted and cracked beneath my feet.

“Ava!” I called out as I tried to listen for some sign of life in the vacant, staged property. Nobody replied. Just as I did at her place, I went from room to room. On the first floor there was nothing to be found, but darkness. At least the streetlights kept me from crashing into walls. That left the second floor.

I carefully ascended the stairwell, keeping my back to the wall and extending my free hand into the darkness. But I could see my hand. There was power upstairs: A low light that bathed the upper hallway. Another wave of nausea overtook me when I reached the landing.

“Ava!” I yelled again as I wiped the sweat from my forehead and pressed on. I found a light switch and flipped it up. The darkness remained unchanged. Shaking my head, I continued down the hallway where the glow emanated from under a bathroom door. This time, I knew for certain I felt a vibration as I got closer. But with no power, what was causing it?

“Chase,” I heard in a muffled gasp from behind that door. I took off running toward it. Like the front, this door was locked too.

“Ava, open the door! It’s me!” I called out, banging frantically. Another sharp wave of pain ripped through my body, but I ignored it as best I could. “Where is that light coming from? Do you have a candle?”

“Chase…I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Let me in, dammit! You—you’re not gonna hurt me. Is something wrong with our baby?”

“No. Nothing wrong,” she answered whimsically. Wondered if she was delirious…or had overdosed on something. “Our baby is going to be fine, Chase. I promise you.”

I kicked at the door in frustration, but it wouldn’t budge. I foolishly threw my hurt shoulder into it next and bounced off. I spilled onto the hardwood floor, writhing in pain from my serious mistake. It was as if running into a solid wall. “Whatever you’re doing in there, stop. Please. I read your file. I believe you.”

“I knew you would eventually, my love. But it’s too late. It’s time to go.”

“No! It’s not. Just open the door. Come out and talk to me. Please. I read your note. It—it doesn’t have to end.”

“It’s beyond my control, Chase. I knew my time here was limited. Just didn’t know when it would end. Wish it weren’t tonight, but it is.”

“End? No, no, no!” I howled, getting back to my feet. Felt more wobbly than before. Sweat had formed on my nose. When I wiped it, I realized it was blood. What the fuck? Didn’t matter right now, but whatever was taking place beyond the door was affecting me. “Open the door, Ava! Don’t do this! I’m begging you!” I urged while pounding with my fists. The light beneath the door ebbed and flowed now, almost like a pulse. A countdown toward something that couldn’t be good.

“Why, Chase? You have your wife here. You’ve made it very apparent where I stand in your life,” she called out through the door. Her voice sounded like she was in distress; the baby growing in spurts again, perhaps.

“That was then. I tried. Hell, I’m still trying. I—I just can’t say what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

“
Who knows tomorrow’s plans for you
,” Ava remarked with a sigh.

That was it. This had to end. I switched from pleading to ordering. “Don’t you dare do anything to yourself or our baby! Do you hear me? I love you!”

I heard her gasp in pain. “I’m sorry, Chase,” she called out. Whatever was taking place in that bathroom kicked up a notch. Felt like static cling all over me this time, miles beyond that intoxicating vibe from our first meeting. Even my watch was throwing off sparks, causing me to yank it off my wrist in a panic. This one couldn’t be explained away as emotion, hormones or lust. It was a physical manifestation that was steadily building. Blood from my nose was now spotting my shirt as the light beneath the door grew in intensity as if alive itself. I needed to get in there and stop her.

Couldn’t live without her.

I went back to the stairwell to gather myself for a running start. From a distance, it seemed like the bathroom was on fire, burning from the inside with an otherworldly flame. Some of this light had to be escaping, providing a light show outside for the neighbors to notice. I sprinted down the hall, covering half the distance in seconds as I prepared to become a human battering ram against a door that felt as immovable as a stone block.

Before I could make contact with the door, a blast of energy erupted from behind it, dispersing outward and bathing everything in its path. I crumpled, suddenly robbed of all momentum as an invisible wave struck me. With only one free hand I slammed into the floor, face-first. Like a marionette whose strings had been cut, I fell in an unceremonious heap. As I lay there, pain engulfed me to the point where I almost wanted to end my own life. Still, I dragged myself the rest of the way, coming to the unyielding door again and placing my hand upon it.

“Ava!”
I called out a final time before relenting to the unforgiving punishment beyond my comprehension.

Then it was over.

The light show and whatever else was happening behind the door had ceased.

Only my ragged breathing remained to tell me my life was spared.

Darkness reigned again in the house on Nicholson Street. I laid still, trying to regain my composure. There were no sounds of life in the bathroom.

“Ava, what did you do?” I whispered to myself. Just then, a thunderous boom came from downstairs. It was the front door. As flashlight beams bounced wildly off the walls and ceilings in their search, I tried to get back to my feet. I’d propped myself against the hallway wall when the beams of light converged on me. Sounded like a large fire engine had just arrived outside.

“Freeze! Police! Put your hands up and don’t move!” said one of the shadowy figures coming up the stairs. I raised the only free arm I had, tensing in that I might get tazed or shot if they failed to recognize the cast on the other one. Two of the figures branched off and nabbed me. For all my effort to stand, I was rewarded by being rudely forced back down.

“Get—get her out of there!” I yelled with a knee in my back. “The bathroom. Door—is locked. Won’t budge. Couldn’t get her out. Tried. Lord, I tried.”

“Who, sir? Who is in the bathroom?” one of them asked, suddenly focusing his firearm somewhere else.

“My wife. My wife—and my baby,” I gasped. “Please. Get them out.”

I watched the officer cautiously move toward the bathroom door, prepared for possible threats, as he was trained. When he grasped the knob, it turned freely in his grasp. The door gently gave way, opening as if never a barrier.

Within seconds of entering, he yelled out, “All clear! If somebody was in here, they’re not anymore.”

“Huh? No—” I gasped.

“Sir, there’s no one in there,” the one standing over me chided, sounding miffed. “And you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…”

Last words I heard as all went black, finally succumbing to my injuries.

I woke up in the hospital; just prior to surgery. Tried to make me understand the reason for drilling a hole in my head and inserting a catheter. Sounded like the teacher from Charlie Brown.

Said I needed decompression and something drained. Maybe they just needed to suck out all the ignorance and stupidity in which I’d been engaging. If that was the case, go ahead and drill a few more holes.

The hovering heads in scrubs kept telling me everything was going to be okay. And because they smiled, that was supposed to make it so.

But they didn’t know.

Couldn’t know.

Life wasn’t filled with simple, pat answers.

Sometimes you have to fight for answers. And sometimes the answers are more than you can handle.

When I woke up, I was screaming for Ava and our child; demanding that they be found. No one knew who or what I was talking about. Told me I’d sustained a traumatic subdural hematoma when the taxi hit me; a slow bleeder as one doctor quipped. Blamed my not making sense on it and assured me all would be better after the emergency surgery. And then they’d remove the restraints on the side of the bed.

Backwards from ten, I counted.

Ten, nine, eigh—

I regained consciousness in a private room. My mom was there.

Steadfast. Resolute. Happy.

I smiled at her, realizing how lucky I was. Still weak as a kitten, but free of the excruciating pain.

“Chase!” she howled when she saw the recognition in my eyes. I went to give her a hug, but couldn’t. Cushioned straps still kept me restrained. Somehow they’d rigged one to accommodate my cast.

And a police officer stood in the hallway just outside my door. The uniformed man stared at me through the small crack in the door, then reached for his radio.

“I got my own bodyguard?”

My mother shook her head. “No, boy. They tryin’ to charge you. I told them you need your rest and that you got a lawyer, so don’t even come around here with that mess.”

“Charge me with what? What did I do?” I asked, suddenly trying to recall the many things I’d done. Had Jacobi sold me out with the break-in? That wouldn’t be much of a stretch for that snake.

“That art woman went missin’,” my mom answered, her voice going lower as her gaze locked on me. “Somebody thinks they saw you at her place.”

“Oh,” I said, looking away. Wondered how jacked up my head looked from the surgery. I wanted to share all I’d experienced that night with her. Things that challenged the imagination. And science. Things I probably never would comprehend. The only certainty was that Ava was gone. Probably never to return. I just hoped and prayed that wherever she went with our child, that her home was a better world than this one. That damn place with the funny sailboats. I laughed, hurting my head.

“That’s all you got to say? Why you laughin’? Please tell me you—”

“They’re okay, Mom. I mean it.”

“Who’s
they
?”

“I meant
she
. Still groggy from…everything.” She was going to be a grandmother and would never see her grandbaby. Couldn’t explain it to her anyway.

“If she’s okay, why don’t you tell them where she’s at?” she asked, motioning toward the room door. “Then they can quit hanging around like damn vultures.”

“Because I can’t say, Mom. Let’s leave it at that.”

My mom looked to challenge me. Went to say something, then thought better of it.

“How is Dawn? And Dad?”

“They both better now that you’ve been found.”

“Dawn…She’s been around?”

“She calls. She calls,” my mom answered by not answering. Wouldn’t blame her if she moved on.

“Next time she calls, tell her I’m sorry.”

There was a quick staccato rap on the room door, followed by a doctor entering who had no plan on waiting for an invite. My mom and I came to attention.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hidalgo. Ma’am,” the WASP-ish physician offered in a distinct fast clip. Probably moved to Texas from somewhere on the East Coast where everything was more hurried and more expensive. He came bedside, excusing himself as he squeezed by my mom. Checked the dressing on my head while grunting to himself in approval of his handiwork.

“Would you like for me to speak to you alone?”

“Nah. My mom is good,” I teased. “But you can undo these straps.”

“Sorry. Just a precaution. You have been a little unruly. But I’ll talk to somebody,” he said, cheesing like I was a little kid who he’d just promised ice cream if they behaved. I knew HPD had as much to do with this as the hospital. He glanced at his chart again after running a penlight in front of my eyes. “We ran another CT scan when the ambulance brought you in. Compared it to the one taken at Ben Taub. You were definitely in worse shape. What made you run out of a good trauma center like that? The food?” he joked.

“Like you said, my mind wasn’t right.”

“All that Motrin you were taking didn’t help. Quite the opposite. Probably exacerbated the situation with your subdural hematoma. You thought you were treating the pain, but you were adding a blood thinner to the mix. Yep. Increased the bleeding up in the old noggin,” the doctor said, feeling demonstrative. “And you were right about not being ‘right.’ Um…let’s see. Irritability? Pain? Headaches? Disorientation? Nausea? Personality changes? Difficulty walking? Blurred vision? Any of that sound familiar?”

I nodded, but Earnestine nodded more. Of course they tried to attribute all my symptoms to the spill I’d taken combined with my earlier car wreck. My mom was overly eager to accept that. Because it meant her son wasn’t crazy.

“There is something that stumped us, though,” he added, turning to detective mode. “Radiation.”

“You mean like from X-rays?”

“No. This is different. In addition to the hematoma, you show exposure to radiation, Mr. Hidalgo. Cosmic rays. Really odd. Just trace amounts now, but…Been anywhere unusual lately? Like up in space?”

I began laughing. “Cosmic rays? You mean like the
Fantastic Four
? I used to read their comic book when I was a kid. Am I going to burst into flames? Or begin stretching? I better not turn all rocky, like the Thing.”

Doc said nothing. Didn’t appreciate being ridiculed. I thought back to my nosebleeds and some of the other symptoms the night I chased Ava. The night the lights came for her. And our baby. I suddenly reflected on the unusual phrases Ava used and that book on parallel universes on her nightstand that I saw once. Doc would get nothing out of me. “Maybe you’ll just turn invisible. Like Sue Storm,” he finally replied.

“Touché, doc,” I responded, appreciating his comic book knowledge.

“Glad I was able to lift your spirits. I’ll be in later to harass you again.”

Pulling on my restraints, I answered smartly, “I’ll be waiting.”

“Hmph. They coulda undid those cuffs. Got you shackled like some kind of runaway slave. All that and the doctor said you weren’t in your right mind,” my mom rattled off as soon as the doctor had cleared out.

“I think the cuffs issue is about to be resolved, Mom,” I replied, spying the gentleman speaking with the police officer outside the room door. He didn’t waste any time coming in once he saw the doctor had left.

“Mr. Hidalgo. I’m Detective Melendez with HPD. I apologize if this is a bad time….”

Would there ever be a good time?

I remained silent as I watched the detective’s mouth run. After all that had occurred, it was now time to face the music.