Authors: Aleatha Romig
Almost forty minutes later, Mr. Pulvara
finally spoke, “Ms. Nichols, if you would please join me, I’ll
explain my appraisal.”
Claire stepped from the bank onto the
sunshine warmed afternoon sidewalk. The multitude of people filled
her with exhilaration. She’d just met with the bank’s investment
specialist and diversified her new found riches. Employment was
still desired. However, the need was no longer dire. Tony’s desire
for quality and appearance now allowed Claire time. It was the time
she would use to complete her research.
Before entering the
parking garage Claire removed her iPhone, checked the time, 4:32 PM
and typed a text:
IS ANYONE AVAILABLE TO
CELEBRATE? DINNER IS ON ME!
She entered
Amber and Harry as recipients and hit:
SEND
.
A few hours later the three sat chatting at
an authentic Brazilian steakhouse in the heart of downtown Palo
Alto. Neither Amber nor Harry argued with Claire’s declaration to
purchase dinner. They ordered wine, read the menu, and debated
appetizers and entrees. Although they were surrounded by other
patrons, the three talked and laughed about their day’s activities.
Their goblets touched in a toast to Claire’s transaction.
Amber entertained them with multiple stories
of SiJo focus groups. Apparently a recent group had extreme varied
opinions on one of their newest games. It amused Claire how Amber
could laugh about negative reviews and joke about comments. That
wasn’t to say the creators didn’t consider the opinions of the
focus groups. They did.
As their celebration
concluded and Claire added cream to her coffee, her disposable
cellphone buzzed. Pulling it from her purse, she apologized, “I’m
so sorry, but this is probably Emily. She said she’s getting a new
phone. I need to answer it.” Her chair scooted back as she hit
the
CALL
button.
She hadn’t noticed the number on the screen as she said,
“Hi.”
Claire intended to move to a hall or outside
to speak, but the voice in her ear caused her knees to buckle and
her face to blanch. She recognized it immediately, “Good Evening,
Claire.”
She collapsed into her chair. Both Amber and
Harry watched in horror. “Are you all right?” They asked in
unison.
Claire managed to shake
her head.
No
, she
wasn’t all right. She still hadn’t spoken.
The husky, deep, baritone
voice coming through the ear piece did. “Now Claire, we’ve been
through this before. It is customary for one person to respond to
the greeting of another. I said,
good
evening
.”
“
Hello,” she managed,
finding her voice. It was difficult to allow her voice to exit
while keeping her food down.
“
Very good. I thought
perhaps we would need to review common pleasantries.” Tony’s voice
was smooth, strong, and domineering. She closed her eyes and saw
him, looming near the fireplace in her suite. It wasn’t the Tony
Rawlings she married. Her vision was of Anthony Rawlings, her
captor. The time and place continuum shattered. She was no longer
with her friends in a bustling restaurant; she was three years in
the past. Visions played like Tony’s surveillance videos behind her
closed lids as her body trembled.
Forcing her eyes to open,
she searched for her friends. She fought to inhale as she sought
desperately through a dense fog. Faceless people spoke. Their
voices were a background din to the deep voice in her ear. Her head
shook in response to her ex-husband’s comment. The movement was so
slight that without the movement of her hair, it would have been
unperceivable. Conversely, inside she shook vehemently.
No
,
I can talk, review isn’t necessary
.
Swallowing the overwhelming mixture of
emotions and food fighting the natural peristalsis, she summoned a
stronger voice. “Good bye, Tony.”
“
Claire, you should know,
I learned of your release less than twenty-four hours ago. As you
can hear, I already have your telephone number. How long do you
think it will take for me to learn your location?”
Sitting straight and
squaring her shoulders she found strength. It was a strength she’d
always possessed, but in the past it was used to keep Tony
pacified. Today she used it to declare her thoughts. With each
word, her voice gained resilience. “It seems
you
have lost the ability to
perceive meaning.
Good bye
means this conversation is over. For the record,
that includes future conversations. I’m sure you remember, once a
discussion is closed, reopening it is not an option.”
The response came in the
form of a laugh, a deep, resonating laugh, and then words. “I have
always admired your strength. Such a brave speech from someone
hiding across the country…” Claire didn’t hear any more. She
removed the phone from her ear and hit
END
. The fog of isolation lifted;
she saw the saucer sized eyes of her concerned friends.
“
If you’ll excuse me, I’ll
be in the restroom.” Claire stood, “If you see the waiter, I
believe I’m ready to leave.” She walked away from the table before
her friends could voice questions. Halfway to the bathroom the
trembling resumed and tears escaped her eyes. Nevertheless, not
until she was inside the stall did she allow herself to take a
ragged breath. Unintentionally, an audible sob seeped from her
chest.
Again her purse vibrated.
She needed to look; it could be Emily. The screen read
Blocked Call
. It stood
to reason, if Emily were getting her own
disposable
phone, a blocked number
wouldn’t be necessary. Claire hit
ignore
. Thirty seconds later the
symbol indicating a text message appeared. Hesitantly she opened
it.
ONLY I CLOSE DISCUSSIONS. THIS ONE IS
STILL OPEN. I LOOK FORWARD TO RESUMING IT IN PERSON…
I guess we are who we are
for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But
even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we
can still choose where we go from there.
―
Stephen
Chbosky
,
The Perks of Being a
Wallflower
1980...
Anton made his way to the
lower level of his family’s estate. The scene he just witnessed
between his grandfather and father ran in a continual loop through
his mind. With each step toward the entertainment center of the
mansion, he tried desperately to forget his family and think about
life back at Blair Academy. More than anything he wanted to be back
on the campus of his boarding school, away from the charade he
called
family
.
It wasn’t like he had many
good friends at Blair. It would be easier if he were part of a
group, if he participated in extracurricular activities. Heaven
knows his stature benefitted him in the area of sports. He
continued to grow taller and broader each year. Anton enjoyed
intermural lacrosse and basketball. The coaches watched his obvious
talent and asked him repeatedly to join one of the Blair teams.
And, although his refusal met animosity from fellow students,
little did they realize, it wasn’t his choice. The other boys
thought he was too
stuck-up
to participate. The truth was, grandfather forbid
participation. Of course, Anton didn’t admit that to anyone. If he
did, it would show others he wasn’t allowed to make his own
decisions. That wasn’t something Anton was willing to reveal. Go
ahead -- think Anton Rawls was a jerk; he didn’t care. He would
make the only man whose opinion mattered proud. Besides, he would
show those other boys one day.
Nathaniel never experienced the benefits of
a private education. He wasn’t able to offer that luxury to his own
son. Now, he expected his only grandson to reap the benefits only
money could buy. Nathaniel expected Anton to succeed. To Nathaniel,
academics should be Anton’s only focus. Therefore, it was.
Well, except for Anton’s past-time of
following his family’s company. Anton may only be fifteen, but he
could read financial reports, follow the NASDAQ and Dow Jones. He
understood investments and could dissect quarterly reports. He
never discussed this with anyone. His father treated him like a
child and would never take Anton’s thoughts seriously. His
grandfather was too busy to discuss business with a fifteen year
old. Anton yearned for the day when he was the one on the other
side of the desk, discussing profits and losses with his
grandfather. Someday, Anton knew -- Nathaniel would see him as his
greatest asset.
Enduring his fellow students’ snide comments
was better than listening to his father and grandfather’s argument.
When Anton was Nathaniel’s top advisor, he fantasized they wouldn’t
argue; they would work together, conspire and collaborate to make
Rawls Corporation the greatest industry America ever saw. Exxon,
General Motors, and Mobil wouldn’t hold a candle to the
possibilities of Rawls with Nathaniel and Anton at the helm.
Just before reaching the entertainment
center of the house, Anton turned the corner to meet his
grandmother. “Anton, where are you headed in such a hurry?”
“
Grandmother, I didn’t
mean to be going so fast. I guess I’m just thinking about other
things.”
“
Of course you are. You’re
a growing young man. You probably have a lot of things on your
mind, perhaps a young woman?” Anton didn’t reply. Sharron
continued, “Are you planning on watching television
downstairs?”
“
Yes, it’s the final
season of
Hawaii Five-O.
I didn’t want to miss the show.”
“
Oh, I’ve heard of that
show. May I watch it with you?”
Anton feigned a smile, of
course he wouldn’t tell her
no
. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her
there. Not because he didn’t love his grandmother, but because
she’d talk throughout the entire program. He much preferred quiet.
Nonetheless, he responded, “Sure, come on down.”
Sharron followed her grandson toward the
seldom used television room. Once they reached their destination,
Anton turned on the large television, and Sharron settled onto the
soft sofa. It was then she asked, “Nathaniel, what is it we’re
watching?”
Anton exhaled and turned
to his grandmother, “We are watching
Hawaii Five O
and I’m
Anton.”
She smiled lovingly at her
grandson, her expression a combination of love and confusion.
Slowly the clouds passed from her gaze, and she stared directly at
his deep brown eyes. “Yes,
Hawaii Five
O
and of course Anton, why would you tell
me your name? You are the light of our lives.”
He smiled. It wasn’t a smile of happiness,
more a pacifying act to quiet her reasoning. He’d heard it before.
She could talk her way out of any misstep. Actually, as long as he
could remember she’d been doing that: saying something totally off
base, or doing something weird, and justifying it, like it was the
most natural thing in the world.
Half way through the episode, Anton gave up
on hearing the actors speak. “Grandmother, I just remembered my
mother wants me upstairs. I think I should go up there.”
She smiled, “Yes, of course. Please give
Margarete my love.”
He walked to the television and turned off
the set. It wasn’t worth the correction or explanation. Margarete
was his great-grandmother, Nathaniel’s mother. Dying before Anton’s
birth, she was someone he’d never met. “I will Grandmother. I’m
sure she feels the same.”
His grandmother snickered, “We both know
that isn’t true. But, please tell her anyway.”
“
I will.”
Anton wondered if his grandmother was
talking about her relationship with her mother-in-law or her
daughter-in-law. He didn’t wonder enough to question. The answer
would take longer than he was willing to commit. Besides, Anton
knew from experience, at the end of the conversation, his question
could easily remain unanswered.
You gain strength, courage
and confidence
by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the
face.
You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
–
Eleanor Roosevelt
“
I don’t think it’s a good
idea.” Courtney’s apprehension came through Claire’s newest
disposable cellphone. It was her second
pay as you go
phone. Only Emily and
Courtney had this number, and Emily had a new similar phone she
used to communicate. Of course, Courtney would also only call with
a
pay as you go
phone, and yes, she had a new one. None of these numbers
could be traced back to the number Tony knew.
“
If you won’t give it to
me, I’ll get it some other way.” Claire’s voice rang strong and
resolute.
After Claire collected herself from her
meltdown in the bathroom stall the night before, she decided to
meet her problem head on. Her problem: her ex-husband Anthony
Rawlings.
“
Seriously Courtney, don’t
you understand? I’m not going to live my life running. I won’t
let
him
have that
control. If I flee every time he’s near, he wins. I’m making a life
out here. I want to live it.”