Under Abnormal Conditions (6 page)

Just then, I heard the water running in the
bathroom. Then just as quickly, it stopped. Someone was in there.
The house fell dead silent. I was afraid to even breathe.

I started walking towards the bathroom. The
tile floor in the kitchen announced my every step. Finally, I made
it to the carpeted dining room, when it occurred to me I didn’t
have a weapon.

Then there was more clanking and stirring in
the back of the house. I eased open the door to the hallway and
behind it was an unused set of golf clubs. It was a gift I thought
I would never use, but maybe I would finally have a chance.

Suddenly there was a loud thud. I raised the
club over my head and kicked the bathroom door open. The door hit
the kneeling intruder in the head and knocked him to his
backside.

My round-bodied trespasser hurried to cover
his naked frame. It was friend rather than foe. In fact, he was
family: a cousin named Ricky.

He always reminded me of the Kool-Aid man: a
big round torso with small spindly legs and a great big smile. His
skin was a khaki tan, and his black hair was smooth and wavy.

I rushed to help him to his feet. He was
still trying to cover himself as he explained his presence in my
house.

“I waited as long as I could. No one was at
Aunt Emma’s house so-”

“So you broke into mine,” I joked.

“No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t want to,
but I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Did you want me to stay
outside?” he pleaded.

“It’s good to see you,” I said as I handed
him my bathrobe. We were almost like brothers. When Ricky, Trey,
and I were together, there was always trouble to be found. Never
anything major, just enough for our parents to separate us for a
little while.

“How long can you stay?” I asked.

“I was hoping I could crash on the couch for
a couple of days . . . a week at the most,” he said pitifully.

“I’ve got plenty of room. You’re more than
welcome.”

The house had three bedrooms so it wouldn’t
be an inconvenience, and I thought it might be nice to have someone
around for a while.

After talking for a few minutes and getting
him squared away in the spare bedroom, I left a trail of clothes
from the kitchen to the living room. I found comfort in my favorite
chair, and turned on the television. The comfort soon gave way to
unease as the late night news appeared.

“Tonight on Action 2 news. Robbery and murder
in a small town. I’m Robin Stuart, and we will have this story for
you at ten o’clock.”

The ten o’clock news replayed from one in the
morning until just before sunrise when the morning shows started. I
had hoped maybe the news could fill in some of the blanks the
police refused. I figured I had just enough time to run to the
kitchen and grab something to drink. As I exited the bathroom, the
phone rang. I turned up the volume on the television as I refilled
my ice pack.

In a surreal instant, there was Sharon Bryant
on my television. “I’m coming to you live from the Club Cool
Breeze, a small out of way jazz club in the quaint city of Dunham
Heights. Police believe the perpetrator first called the club with
a bomb threat. After he thought the club was empty, the thief
emptied the cash office. One of the two employees that were in the
bar was murdered. Police estimate that the thief made away with
over $75,000.”

$75,000, I questioned.

Back at the news desk, the anchorwoman asked,
“Do the police have any leads, Sharon?”

“As of yet, the police don’t have suspects,
but in saying that, they haven’t ruled out anyone, including the
employees. The club owner declined comment.”

“And what about the other employee that was
in the club?” she asked next.

“He is being treated at one of our local
hospitals as we speak. The police have already questioned him, and
I’m sure that will continue tomorrow.”

About that time, Ricky waddled into the room.
I turned off the set and placed my empty ice pack on the coffee
table.

“That’s what happened! Ester saw the report
on the news and called here. I didn’t know what to tell her!”

“I’m fine,” I said as I winced with pain “But
there was a murder.”

“Murder! And when were you going to tell me
what happened?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it anymore
tonight,” I paused for him to say we could talk about it in the
morning. When he didn’t, I continued, “It looks like she was killed
during the robbery.” I answered.

“Robbery?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ll give you the details tomorrow.
I’m exhausted, and my head is killing me.” I said, placing the ice
pack back in the trash.

“Wait, I want to show you what I did to thank
you for letting me crash here.” He took my arm and led me into the
other spare bedroom. I didn’t really need three bedrooms so I
converted it into an office. I had my computer in there, and that
was where I usually did my homework and other things.

“I hooked you up. I upgraded your computer
and sped up your Internet connection, a DVD burner and
everything.”

I really didn’t know what to make out of the
whole thing. “I really just use my computer to type papers. What is
all that going to cost me?”

“Come on now. For my favorite cousin? I just
need a little favor.”

Whether it was money or not, I knew I would
have to pay something. Favors for Ricky usually came at a high
price. He was family, and I loved him, but he carried trouble like
other people carried around luggage.

“I don’t know how to use any of that stuff.”
I said.

“I’ll show you everything you need it’s
-”

“Tomorrow. You can show me tomorrow.” I
said.

“Yeah, Doc. Go to bed. We can talk
tomorrow.”

I left the office and entered my bedroom. I
didn’t even bother turning on the light; I just rested on the edge
of the bed. I knew other things would keep me awake.

$75,000?

There was no way someone could have made off
with that much money. I had counted all the money and it wasn’t
even close to that amount. If there had been that much money there,
it must have been in Phil’s office upstairs, but why would he have
that much cash?

As the events of the night passed through my
mind, I tried to figure out what had happened, but all that did was
leave me with more questions and no way to answer them. Why didn’t
the thief kill me? What did Sherry do that he had to kill her?

Before I knew it, I was on my knees thanking
God for the life I had. As miserable as I thought it was, I still
had my life, my future, and my family. I finished my short prayer
and turned on the lamp next to my bed. The brightness blinded me
for a second, but I quickly focused on the picture of Regina that
sat on my nightstand. She was almost two years old.

Just as I’m sure she had planned, I couldn’t
think of my daughter, Regina, without thinking of Ester. I don’t
know whether it was our ages or the accident. With playing
football, working, and going to school, I didn’t take the time I
needed to work on my marriage. Before I knew it, we were two
totally different people. She found comfort in someone else, and I
just found myself alone. We tried to work things out, but I just
couldn’t accept the fact she cheated on me. I really felt like I
was cheated out of the family life I had always wanted.

The only constant through this whole ordeal
was the love between my daughter and myself. I was afraid Ester
would try to turn her against me, but she still loved her daddy. I
couldn’t help feeling like a bad father when I didn’t get to see
her as much as I wanted. I wanted her to have all of the things I
didn’t have. As much as I wanted to, I could never give her what
she needed most: a family.

I picked up the phone and dialed Ester’s
number. She picked up after only two rings.

“Michael!” she answered.

“Yeah, I was just calling to let you know I
was all right. I figured you called.”

“We were so worried about you,” she said
softly.

“You didn’t tell Regina, did you?”

“No, she was in bed when I saw the news
report. I was so upset, I called my mother.”

That sounded about right. Toward the end of
our relationship, I got along better with my mother-in-law than I
did with Ester. “Make sure you call her and let her know that I’m
okay.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just got a bit of a
headache.” I was happy her tone had lightened up from our earlier
conversation. I finished undressing and slipped into bed as silence
fell over our discussion.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” she
asked finally.

“Not tonight. I’ll let you know tomorrow when
I come to see the baby.”

“You know she’s not a baby anymore.”

“Yes, she is. She’s my tiny baby, and I don’t
want to hear anything different. She’s always going to be my baby
girl.”

“You are never going to change, are you?”

“I’m trying not to,” I replied. At times like
that, I wondered if we really tried hard enough to make things
work. It would have been so pleasing to come home to a wife and
daughter that love me, rather than the cold lonely place where I
usually found myself. “I’m really tired. If you don’t mind, I’m
going to turn in.”

After a long pause, she answered, “If that’s
what you want.”

“I’m really tired. It’s been a such a long
day-”

“You don’t have to give me an excuse. What
time is she coming over?” she interrupted.

“Ester, can’t we ever just have a normal
conversation? No one is coming over here. Can’t you understand what
I’ve gone through today?”

“Whatever! Just make sure not to be late with
your child support tomorrow.” -click

I hung up the phone and placed it on the
nightstand. I guessed that maybe she was waiting for an invitation
to come over. It was probably a good thing she reacted the way she
had or I might have given her one. I didn’t want to be alone, but
it was probably for the best. I picked the phone back up and dialed
my best friend. He picked up even quicker than Ester.

“Doc?” he answered. Even though Michael Drake
was my God-given name, my old friends called me Doc as in M.D. This
particular old friend was named David Higgenbottom, III. To his
closest friends, he was simply Trey.

“Yeah, it’s me. I guess you saw the
news?”

“Me and everybody else. Are you alright?” he
asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Typical response from the man of few words,”
he smarted. “I guess those broad shoulders and thick neck couldn’t
protect you from all those hits to the head?”

“Well, we can’t all be lawyers.” I quipped
back.

“There is a reason for that my friend. Being
able to verbalize poetically and elegantly has gotten me out of
many a predicament.”

“And the ones you couldn’t, my broad
shoulders and thick neck got you out of.” I came back with my
second quick comeback of the day. Normally I played the straight
man to his undersized Costello, but every once in a while I was
able to get in a couple of good ones.

“I’m glad you are alright. What
happened?”

“Not tonight.”

“I should have expected that. I understand,
though. Call me tomorrow and give me the real deal. That is unless
you want me to get all my information from those TV news shows.
Thanks for calling.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I said
and hung up the phone. I was lucky, rather, blessed to have a
friend like Trey. He was one of the only people who didn’t allow me
to shut them out of my life when all my troubles started. He was
there when I had to relearn to walk and he was there to help me
pick up the pieces when my marriage fell apart.

As I rested my head against the cool pillow,
I remembered what the doctor said. As tired as I was, I couldn’t go
to sleep. I got out of bed and walked to my computer room, picking
up my pants along the way.

I sat down and began working on Michelle’s
case file. Ricky failed to mention all of the articles regarding
Michelle’s abduction pinned to the wall over my desk. Being the son
of a homicide detective gave me the misguided idea I could somehow
be the one to find her. As many times as I stared at the facts
regarding her case, nothing ever clicked in my mind. At times I
even wondered whether or not I should ask my dad for help. Those
thoughts never lasted very long.

I, like her family, wondered if the case
would ever be solved. It didn’t matter. I still had to do
something. I still had to try and help her. As the sun rose that
morning, I wondered who would be there to help me.

Chapter 8

The first time the doorbell rang; I turned
down the volume on the television to see if it really was at my
house. It was barely eight o’clock and I was practically molded
into my favorite chair.

The classic movie station ran a Charlie Chan
marathon that kept my attention since daybreak, but a bottomless
cup of coffee helped as well. After the second ring, I figured it
must be one of the neighbors wanting information about what had
happened the night before, so I turned the volume back up on the
television. The third

time, I didn’t care; I just wanted them
gone.

I slowly rose from my less than restful
night. Raising my hand to my head, I gingerly touched the lump left
by my attacker. It was still there, but my headache was gone, gone
until I opened the door.

Headache number one was 6’4” and close to 300
pounds. Number two was a much smaller man, but a headache
nonetheless.

“Ricky Scott here?” asked the big guy.

“Who’s asking?” I asked cautiously.

“Excuse my associate,” said the smaller man
as he stepped in front of his giant friend. “We are looking for Mr.
Scott. I promise it would be worth your while, if you can help
us.”