Alexander Donovan
For the second time, I punched the number to Samantha's cell phone into the old phone in the back of the restaurant. My cell had died, forcing me to use the corded phone. Sam was most likely angry at Kolver as well, so I didn't want to use his phone and risk her not picking up on purpose.
There were several long rings, then a click.
'Hi, it's Sam, I can't come to the phone right now, so leave a message and I'll get back to you!' There was a rustling sound, and then Trevor's voice came through. 'Bye-bye!' The customized voicemail ended, leaving me upset but smiling nonetheless. It was good to hear their voices, even if it had only been yesterday that I had heard them last. Not knowing what else to do, and with some hesitation, I dialed Gene's number. My little brother picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"Gene, it's Alex." I told him, remembering that I was not on my cell.
"Alex?!" he nearly shouted, "Where the heck are you?" His voice came through loud enough that I had to pull the phone a little away from my ear.
"Schaumburg."
"Schaum...wait, what! Why the heck are you in Schaumburg? That's like an hour away!" He questioned me.
"I had to speak to Jameson's biological father." I answered. There was a long pause, then a sigh from my brother.
"Of course. Alex, you knew that Samantha didn't want you to go! Your partner could have taken care of that by himself." He told me, his voice quiet.
"I know, I know. I just...had to. We found what we needed, that's what's important. This will all be over soon." I told him, knowing that it was a lousy excuse.
There was a long, long silence. Finally, I broke the silence, thinking that he had hung up on me.
"Gene?"
"You're a selfish jerk, you know that?" He said accusingly. I could feel the anger through his voice. I groaned.
"I know."
"Do you, Alexander? Do you?" Gene asked me, his angry voice gaining volume. "'Cuz I'm starting to think that you don't. You're breaking your wife's heart, man! On purpose, too! All you care about is your stupid case! You don't even think to stop and make sure you're not forgetting your family!"
"I'm so sor-"
"SHUT UP!" He snapped. I closed my eyes and licked my dry lips, leaning against back of my chair. Knowing that it would not make anything better, I didn't talk, just focused on my breathing.
"Just...just get back here and see your wife, Alex. Have dinner with her and apologize. You owe her that." The line went dead.
I found myself still holding the phone to my ear a minute or so after Gene hung up, listening to the monotone buzzing that had replaced his voice. Finally, I hung up and turned back towards the restaurant booths, smoothing my hair back. I returned to my booth to find Kolver finishing off his sandwich. I moved into my seat across from him from my wheelchair and just stared at my hardly-touched salad.
"What's wrong?" Kolver asked after swallowing his hamburger and chasing it down with a gulp of Coke. I just shook my head slowly and used my arm on the table to prop up my heavy head. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard.
I heard Kolver set down his cup. "You were all happy like five minutes ago. I take it your phone call didn't go well." He observed. I opened my eyes.
"I couldn't even talk to her," I mumbled. I rubbed my eyes, "I screwed up bad, Dan." Kolver reached across the table and put a firm hand on my arm.
"Let's just get home. Tomorrow's a big day."
*
Zakary Jameson
The next thing I felt was a cold rag being placed on my forehead.
I could tell that I was laying on something somewhat soft, but that was about it. Even with my eyes closed and laying completely still, the world felt like it was spinning, and the pain in my head threatened to pull me back into unconsciousness, maybe for the last time.
Cold fingers pushed against the side of my neck, feeling my slow, weak pulse, then pulled away.
"Get Jarzy in 'ere!" The woman's raspy voice was not one that I recognized. There was rustling, then footsteps approached me.
"How is he, Winnie?" A deep, smooth voice asked. Small hands pulled a coarse blanket up to my chin.
"Not good, sir. I can't git his fever down." The woman responded, sounding worried. There was a sigh.
"Where did Crabbe and Smitty find him again?" The man, Jarzy, asked.
"Lyin' in an alley three blocks from 'ere," Winnie told him. "Sick with sometin' awful, 'e is, sir. Don't expect him to make it very much longer, sir. Tonight, maybe."
There was a little bit of crinkling as Jarzy knelt beside me, then a large, warm hand rested against my cheek.
"Give him a chance, Winifred. He looks like a fighter to me." He said calmly. After that, I slowly fell back into darkness and lost all sense of time.
*
It was dark when I was able to open my eyes next. I was alone, laying on some blanket in some sort of shelter made of what looked like cardboard and tarps. The room wasn't large, maybe six feet in either direction. The makeshift door, two tarps, was open a crack, through which I could see the glow of a trash can fire, around which was huddled several dark figures.
I took a deep breath, feeling the unnerving rattling in my chest, and coughed hard a few times. There were quick voices outside, then the tarp door was pushed open and two figures stepped inside.
The first was a lady in her fifties with dirty, shoulder-length blonde hair, a too-big brown jacket, jeans, and a maroon knitted hat. She smiled, exposing yellowed teeth. Despite her dirtiness, her blue eyes sparkled in delight. "Jarzy, 'e is awake!" She told the man.
Jarzy was tall to the point where he had to bend down at the waist to stand in the shelter. He wore a white shirt, a faded leather jacket, jeans, and fingerless black gloves. His short black hair was carefully combed away from his thin face. His chin was covered with a short black beard. He smiled a little, kneeling down beside me.
"Well, what do ya know! How are you feeling, boy?" Jarzy said kindly. I coughed wetly a few more times and felt something warm trickle down my cheek from the side of my mouth. Winnie frowned, then picked up a dirty rag and wiped it away. She looked at the stain, eyes wide, then held it so Jarzy could see. The faded rag now held a bright red stain. Jarzy frowned and sighed, then looked at me and forced his smile to return.
"Winifred here is gonna fix you right up, don't you worry," He took one of my limp hands in both of his. "Oh, I am Jonathan Jarzinka, by the way. You can just call me Jarzy, though. Everyone else does. Who are you?"
"Zak," I coughed tiredly, "Where...where am I?"
"A homeless colony in an alley. Winifred's home, more specifically," he told me, "Do you think you can sit up and drink some water?"
I nodded, realizing how thirsty I was. Jarzy pushed one of his arms under my back and slowly raised me into a sitting position. He reached behind him and produced a plastic water bottle. He carefully rose it to my lips and poured a little into my mouth. I swallowed the metallic-tasting water gratefully, prompting him to let me drink almost half the bottle. When I would take no more, Jarzy laid me back down on the blankets, whispering "good...good..."
Feeling a tad bit better now hydrated, I took a deep, rattling breath. At the loud sound in my chest, both my hosts frowned a bit. Not a good sign, I gathered. "Ho-how long have I been here?" I asked, my voice strained and quiet. Jarzy checked a beaten up wristwatch.
"Few hours. It's almost midnight. Honestly, we didn't think that you would wake up. We thought you were dying." He answered. I nodded slowly, calculating in my head. I had to get to the Chicago Union Station within the next 24 hours. Hopefully Alex had figured it out so that all this could be over. To go today was crucial. Lasting much more after that would be a challenge that I wasn't sure I could face.
"I ne-need to go." I told them. Jarzy frowned more.
"To the bathroom?" He asked. I shook my head.
"To...the train sta...tion..." I answered slowly. The more I spoke, the more exhausted I felt. Jarzy jerked in surprise.
"What? Zak, you are in no condition to move." He protested. I shook my head again, this time not as much and slower.
"I have to..." I told them, my words beginning to slur together. Jarzy watched me a moment, the way a father would, then sighed.
"Wait until morning, at least. Get some food in you and rest up a bit." He suggested.
"But-" He held up a hand.
"Please, I insist. I'm not going to let you go knowing how bad off you are." Jarzy said finitely. I sighed, nodded, and slowly closed my eyes. Just a minute of rest...
*
Alexander Donovan
Kolver left me at the door to my house with only a quiet 'see you tomorrow' before driving off in the beautiful orange light of the setting sun.
I looked down at the bouquet of pale pink carnations in my lap. Kolver and I had stopped by the store on the way home so that I could pick them up. I knew that they wouldn't set things right, but they were her favorites and would hopefully give her a little bit of happiness. After a small, silent prayer, I reached up and knocked on the door.
The door swung open a minute later to show Trevor, dressed in his dinosaur pajamas. His face lit up in excitement.
"Daddy!" He cried as he ran onto the porch and wrapped his arms around my neck. I chuckled and hugged his tightly back. At least someone was happy to see me.
"Heya buddy. How're you doing?" I greeted him with a smile.
"I colored you a picture." He told me happily.
I laughed. "Did you, now? That's fantastic." He wiggled out of the hug, still smiling brightly.
"Uncle Gene said he would take me and mommy to the zoo tomorrow!" He announced.
"He did? Sounds like fun," My smile faded a little bit, "Hey, Trevor, where's mommy?"
Trevor walked around behind me and used all his weight to push me into the house and closed the door behind us. "In bed. She's tired." He told me. I pursed my lips. It was hardly seven o'clock. Trevor didn't even go to bed until 7:45.
"What about Uncle Gene?" I inquired.
"He's getting pizza," He replied happily, letting go of my chair and running back to the front of me, "Can I sit on your lap, daddy?" I looked down at the flowers again.
"Um, how about you go get that picture you were telling me about... I have to go talk to your mommy," I suggested. Trevor frowned and looked curiously at me.
"Are you in trouble?" He suddenly asked. My gaze shot to him, surprised. Had Sammy told him why she was upset?
"Erm...why do you say that?" I asked. Trevor took my left hand and began to play with my wedding ring, spinning it around my thin finger.
"Uncle Gene was yelling on his phone." He said quietly, as if he thought the confession would get him in trouble. I forced a small smile for him.
"Um, a little bit, Trev. It's going to be fine, though. I just need to talk to her. Watch for Uncle Gene to get back, okay?" Trevor nodded and sprinted to the front room couch to watch out the window.
With him gone, I took a deep breath and made my way slowly towards my room at the end of the hall. The door was closed. I ran a finger over the flower buds, hoping they would make her happy, and then opened the door.
The only light in the room came from Sam's bedside lamp. The curtains were shut, blocking out the beautiful sunset. The ceiling fan was on low, hardly creating a small breeze and a hum. After looking around, my gaze locked onto my wife.
Samantha was curled in on herself on her side of the bed, facing away from me. She lay on top of the covers, so I could see her small figure, still in her gray sweats and a baggy red sweater, one of mine, I realized. Her blonde hair was messy and tied into a loose bun that was falling out. She looked tiny and frail, and it broke my heart to know that I had caused her to be like this.
What made it worse: the fan had been turned on so the sound would cover the sound of her quietly crying from outside. Now that I was in the room, I could see her shoulders shaking with small, quiet sobs.
I closed the door quietly behind me and turned off the fan. She froze for a split second, then continued, trying to hide it. I lingered there for a moment, not sure if I should say something, then set the flowers on the dresser and rolled myself to my side of the bed. It was difficult, but I got on top of the covers and scooted over until I was next to my wife.
I stroked her soft hair with one hand, moving it away from her face, then rested my hand on her side.
"Sammy?" I asked, "Hey, I'm really sorry...if I can do anything, anything, to make it right, I will. Name it."
She stayed silent. I licked my lips.
"The case will be closed tomorrow. I'll take a couple weeks off after that. It'll be just you, me, and Trevor. I promise. No work," I promised her. Still nothing. I frowned. "Samantha? Hon, are you okay?" I asked, a little worried. It wasn't like her to cry like this.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, and looked up at me. Her eyes were red-rimmed and teary. My brow furrowed, and I used a thumb to wipe away her tears.
"Sam, talk to me, please."
Samantha looked down a moment, then slowly sat up beside me. She folded her hands between her legs and sniffled. After composing herself a little, she looked me in the eyes.
"I-" She began, but stopped herself. I sat up a little more.
"You can talk to me, Sam," I assured her. She folded her arms over her stomach, with which she was just barely beginning to show.
"I'm kind of scared, Al." She admitted, fresh tears running down her cheeks. I was a little surprised at this confession. I had been under the impression that she was crying about me never being around. My eyes darted to her stomach, then back to her eyes. I draped an arm around her.
"There is nothing to be afraid of, Samantha," I told her. She shook her head quickly.
"I almost died last time, Alex. What if..." She said nervously.
I smiled a little and shook my head. "It's going to be fine, Samantha."
She swallowed. "But what if it isn't fine, Alex? What if I-"
I took her had quickly and looked into her eyes, stopping her before she could continue.
"Samantha," I said in a soft but firm voice, "I will be right there next to you the whole time. Nothing will happen. Not while I'm there. I promise."
There was silence between us for a long minute as my wife slowly leaned against my shoulder. With her like that, I breathed a little better. I had expected things to go a lot worse. For us to fight. Instead, we were a little better...closer. I knew that we would revisit the subject of my being gone eventually, but maybe that would wait a little bit longer. Until morning, hopefully.
Yes. One night of peace sounded perfect. One night of peace before our troubles caught up to us.
One night of peace before I had to face Jameson.