Six Crime Stories (15 page)

 

*****

Though Tom loved his wife
,
he hated to enter the apartment where the two of them lived. He loved her
,
but he dreaded seeing how far her illness had progressed while he
'
d been away.

It seemed to get worse every time he saw her...and this time
,
he
'
d been away for nearly three days
,
meeting with Mr. Mayflower. Whatever she looked like
,
whatever she
'
d become
,
he knew it wouldn
'
t be good.

Sure enough
,
when he walked through the bedroom doorway
,
she looked terrible. Even with the lights out
,
he could tell that she had deteriorated significantly since the last time he
'
d seen her.

She lay in the bed with all the covers thrown off
,
her emaciated wick of a body curled into a fetal position. Her wrinkled nightshirt was stuck to her sweaty skin...the same nightshirt she
'
d been wearing when he
'
d left three days ago.

Incongruously
,
the room itself was festooned with Christmas decorations...part of Tom
'
s futile effort to cheer her up during the holidays. Even though Christmas had been over for two months
,
he
'
d left the decorations up for whatever residual lift they could give her. As much as she
'
d always loved Christmas
,
though
,
none of it had done any good--not the wreath on the door or the candles in the windows or the dancing Santa on the dresser or the artificial tree in the corner
,
layered with colored lights and glittering balls. It had gotten to the point where Tom thought the decorations were doing more harm than good...but he had come to fear
,
superstitiously
,
that if he took them down
,
Sydney would die.

At the sound of his approach
,
she rolled her hairless head on the pillow and stared at him with sunken gray eyes. Though she was just forty years old
,
her face was as pinched as an ancient crone
'
s
,
the skin drained of luster and sucked tight over doorknob cheekbones.

"
Tom?
"
she said weakly
,
her voice barely audible to him.
"
Is that you
,
honey?
"

Tom took a breath and forced a smile onto his face. The room smelled like sweat and vomit and dust.
"
It
'
s me
,
"
he said softly
,
fighting the urge to gag.
"
I
'
m home.
"

"
Thank God
,
"
she said. A tiny smile flickered over her lips
,
then faded into a grimace.
"
It
'
s been a bad couple days.
"

Tom wanted to turn around and walk back out--of the room
,
of the apartment
,
of the building--and he hated himself for feeling that way. He loved her
,
he truly did
,
but it was hard to take
,
seeing her reduced to this wasted
,
shadowy remnant.

Sometimes
,
he wasn
'
t even sure if she was still alive at all. She might as well have been a ghost
,
for all the resemblance she had to the woman he
'
d married...for all the help all the medications and treatments had been to her.

But maybe
,
that was going to change today.

"
How was Mrs. Gunderson?
"
he said
,
forcing himself to walk to the foot of the bed.

"
She stopped coming after the first day
,
"
said Sydney.
"
Had to babysit for her daughter.
"

Tom closed his eyes and shook his head. Mrs. Gunderson had promised to look in on Sydney twice a day while he was away. The fact that she hadn
'
t been around for two days explained why Sydney was in such a state of neglect. She was so weak she couldn
'
t really take care of herself anymore.

"
Why didn
'
t you tell me when I called?
"
he said.

"
I didn
'
t want you to worry
,
"
she said.
"
How was the billionaire?
"

"
Interesting guy
,
"
said Tom.
"
You wouldn
'
t believe his mansion.
"

Sydney coughed.
"
What did he have to say?
"
she said
,
her voice pathetically weak.

"
He gave me something for you
,
"
said Tom
,
holding up Mayflower
'
s baggie of powder.
"
He said it
'
s the first treatment.
"

Sydney squinted up at the baggie from the dark pits of her eye sockets.
"
How many treatments do I need?
"

"
One more
,
"
said Tom.
"
If this works
,
I
'
ll have to go get the rest.
"

A single tear crawled down her sunken cheek as she turned back to stare at the window blind.
"
It doesn
'
t seem possible. It
'
s just...too much to hope for...after what we
'
ve been through.
"

"
I know
,
"
said Tom
,
"
but we can
'
t not try it. If there
'
s any chance at all that it
'
ll work
,
we have to try it.
"

Sydney said nothing in reply.

Tom looked at her
,
wishing things could have been different
,
wishing she
'
d never gotten sick. Wishing she could still get well and things could go back to the way they
'
d been in the beginning.

He wanted that more than anything. He wanted his wife back.

"
I
'
m going to get this ready for you
,
"
he said
,
turning away.
"
I
'
ll be back in a few minutes
,
and we
'
ll give it a try.
"

As he walked through the doorway
,
he heard her moving on the bed behind him.
"
Tom?
"
she said.

He stopped and turned to look back at her.
"
Yes
,
honey?
"

"
I love you so much
,
"
she said
,
her voice breaking.

"
I know
,
"
said Tom
,
mustering a smile though she looked so withered and pitiful.
"
I love you
,
too.
"

Then
,
he went to the kitchen and prepared her special tea just as Mr. Mayflower had instructed.

 

*****

A week later
,
on his way back to the billionaire
'
s mansion
,
Tom could only think about two things. He stared at the inflight movie on the plane (he hadn
'
t rented the headsets
,
so he couldn
'
t hear the audio) and overheard the teenage girls chattering behind him
,
and he only thought about two things.

The first was this: in the oncologist
'
s examination room
,
which had been such a chamber of horrors for Tom and Sydney for so long
,
Sydney had thrown her arms around him and kissed him full on the lips.

Fifteen minutes before the kiss
,
Dr. Singh had shown them murky MRI scans and told them the good news while wagging her head in disbelief.

"
The tumor
'
s shrinking
,
"
she had said.
"
I don
'
t know why
,
but it
'
s down to half the size.
"

Eyes wide in their shadowy caves
,
Sydney had stared at Tom
,
then turned back to the doctor.
"
You
'
re kidding
,
"
Sydney had said slowly.
"
That can
'
t be.
"

"
How true
,
"
Singh had said.
"
But it is. I
'
m reluctant to use the word
'
miracle
,
'
but I
'
m at a loss to explain this development.
"

"
Will it keep shrinking?
"
Sydney had said
,
her voice stronger than it had sounded in weeks.
"
Will it shrink away to nothing?
"

Singh had shrugged and thrown her hands in the air.
"
Who knows? I don
'
t know what
'
s causing it
,
so I certainly can
'
t predict the course it will take.
"

"
But it
'
s half the size
,
"
Tom had said.

"
Half
,
yes
,
"
Singh had said
,
nodding
,
her expression more puzzled than pleased.

"
So it
'
s possible
,
"
Tom had said
,
"
that it could disappear altogether.
"

"
Anything
'
s possible.
"

It was then that Sydney had gotten up out of her chair
,
fragile as she was
,
and flung her arms around Tom and kissed him with tears in her eyes.

And he had felt happy for the first time in many months. He had felt hopeful that Sydney would yet survive.

If he could complete his
"
assignment
"
for Mayflower
,
that is
,
and obtain the remaining dose of the cure.

That was the second thing he thought about on the way back to the Billionaire Samaritan
'
s mansion: the
"
assignment.
"

"
You get the rest after you do a little work for me
,
"
Mayflower had told him.
"
After you make someone else
'
s wish come true.
"

The more he thought about it
,
the more Tom was consumed with curiosity. What could someone like Mayflower possibly want from someone like him? What could Tom do to grant someone
'
s wish that a billionaire could not?

It didn
'
t make any sense. After months of sky-high medical bills (his HMO claimed the tumor was a pre-existing condition and wouldn
'
t pay for treatment)
,
Tom
'
s meager resources were wiped out. Maybe Mayflower expected some kind of service from Tom in exchange for the dose...but if so
,
what service could Tom possibly provide that Mayflower couldn
'
t buy from someone else?

Maybe it was harmless after all. Maybe
,
Mayflower tried to perpetuate the cycle of good deeds by asking the recipients of his gifts to do something positive for someone else in return. Tom hadn
'
t read of such an angle in
Good as Gold
,
but maybe it was as simple as that. It was certainly the explanation he liked best.

It was also the explanation that he thought was least likely to be true. If Mayflower had wanted him to do perform a good deed
,
Tom doubted he would have held out the second dose of the cancer cure until he completed his
"
assignment.
"

As the limousine whisked him out to Mayflower
'
s sprawling estate
,
Tom had a bad feeling. He tried to balance it out by remembering Sydney
'
s excited kiss in the oncologist
'
s office...but the closer he got to the Billionaire Samaritan
,
the more he focused on the possibilities that lay ahead
,
and the darker his mood became.