When Desperation Meets Opportunity Chapter 12 — A #NaNoWriMo 2015 Story
Chapter 12 — Maggie
ONE MONTH LATER
Just go away. Seriously. Just. Go. Away.
My tank is empty. I’m just a shell of who I was. My whole reason for living is gone. So, yeah, stop calling.
But the phone keeps on ringing. Needless to say, I don’t answer. It doesn’t matter, it just starts ringing again.
Amidst the balloons that I hate, which are all but deflated now, and the flowers that I hate, which are all but dead now, I continue to go through that fateful day, playing it all back in my head. What if I had left with that laptop? What if I had straight up declined to participate? What if, what if, what if? I’ve gone through every possible iteration of that day. It all comes back to one things, though. That is the very real situation that I no longer have a mother. And, for all intents and purposes, I no longer have a son either.
The phone keeps on ringing. I know what will be there. I know what He wants. Once again, I ignore it.
What is the most challenging part of all of this? Was it having to stand there and listen to the police tell my father that my mother was involved in a love triangle gone sour? Was it having to act like that was the first time I had received that information? Can you imagine how hard it was to listen to all of this, see the tears and the heart break that my dad was going through, and be able to do absolutely nothing? If I tell him what really happened, it could endanger my son. If I tell the police what happened, my son could die. Having to lie and hold onto this dark secret is the only thin veil of hope that I have left.
More ringing.
The funeral was a ridiculous affair. Scores of people I’ve never met coming out to pay homage to my mother, all of them making comments and acting like they were better than her. They would speak of her like she was some criminal, claiming that they always know that she was a cheater. Can you believe that? My mother was guilty of nothing, except for trying to trust me. All that ever did was lead to her murder. During the pastor’s sermon, I wanted to storm the pulpit and shout to the world what was happening. It wouldn’t matter — I’d be labeled grief stricken and crazy. Regardless of what I do, the truth is harder to believe than the fiction.
I visit my father on occasion. He doesn’t talk much right now. Mainly focuses on work. When he isn’t working, he goes fishing. It worries me that on one of his fishing trips he’ll just decide to take a nap in the lake. I sure hope now. He is all the family I can see now. Even if I can’t tell him the truth, just having him around is a small amount of comfort.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Sitting in my chair, staring off to space, I think of what I’ve missed out on because of this. I’ve quit my job — not much sense in working when the money is coming for free. What a consolation prize — $50k for seeing your mother killed in cold blood and helping cover up the murder. It makes me sick to look at it. But, without a job, it has paid the bills. It feels like this situation is a parasite, and the only way both of us survive is to both use each other. I haven’t eaten much, and with no child around, care costs and feeding him are non existent.
Another missed call.
I failed my college class, meaning another few hundred dollars down the drain and my plans for becoming a nursing assistant delayed for at least a year. What does that matter though? It was all for Brayden. Every minute of my life since the day he was born was made for him. With him gone, my life is on pause. Time stands still. How can I move on without my son? I’m not sure where to start, or how I can do it, but I won’t rest until he is by my side.
And that brings me to now. For the last month, I’ve been doing some peculiar work for Mr. Man, also known as Lance Jacobs. At least, I’m assuming that is his name. I haven’t quite figured out what to do with that information yet. I’ve tried to find Rodger and get the truth out of him. Whenever I stop by to pay him a visit, he isn’t home. Or, at least, he doesn’t answer. He might be the key to this whole thing. He must know something. But, maybe that is why he isn’t there. Maybe Lance decided to remove him from play.
In any case, that is just one of my daily routines. The other involves following around some weird Asian guy. Lance says his name is Xang Ti. He didn’t fill me in on any details, other than I needed to follow him day and night, observing his activities, and reporting every night. It is night now, and I’m expected to report again. What exactly does he want me to say?
Xang does the same thing every day. He appears to wake up at 5:30am. It takes him roughly an hour to get ready, eat, and read the news online. Why Xang doesn’t keep his blinds closed, I have no idea. I’ve seen more of that man than I ever wanted to. Then, at 6:30am, he leaves the house, gets into his Toyota Prius, and drives the 15 minutes into the country to an oddly placed office complex. It would seem his working hours start at 7:00am. From there, I don’t have a ton of detail. I sit outside, and try and keep an eye on what is going on. Honestly, I’ve tried to Google the location, go inside to see a secretary, or simply look through the windows. The place is pretty locked down. Then, at 4:00pm, he leaves and heads to the grocery store. Every. Day. It looks like he gets a bag of salad and a rotisserie chicken. I’d be sick if I ate the same thing every day. Of course, right now, I eat a few spoonfuls of soup every day. That is all I can stomach. Any more, and I’d throw up thinking about the gaping holes in my life.
Xang does two things that are kind of out of the ordinary from his routine. Three days a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he goes to the local Anytime Fitness and runs on the treadmill for an hour. Which is great. I’m forced to sit in a car for pretty much the entire day, and he gets to exercise and get healthy. Good thing I’m not eating much, or I’d be rolling myself around to follow Xang.
The other strange thing is that every two weeks, he leaves town. Lance was pretty adamant I don’t follow him, yet. So when he leaves town, that is when I get some time to myself. Right now is one of those times. I am curious as to where he is going, but my curiosity is replaced by outright worry when I realized that probably has to do with what I’ll be asked to do next.
More ringing. Perhaps I should just put the phone on silent. I have no plans to talk to him tonight. He can give me that.
Of course, there is one reason to answer him. Every day he does let me talk to Brayden for 15 minutes. It is nowhere near enough. On the flip side, what do you say to your son who has been kidnapped? “Hey, baby, I hope you are enjoying the strange people I left you with. Hope you are having fun!”. Ugh. I begin to feel sick again. I’m not sure what makes me more nauseous — the fact that my son is living with this maniac right now, or the fact that he is enjoying it. He is being showered with great food and wonderful gifts to keep him happy. Sure, he misses me, and maybe eventually we’ll be together again. But, he is four. A four year old loves food and toys. Lance is currently fulfilling those needs. I am not. I am a failure.
With all of that on my mind, I decide to drum up the courage to go and answer the phone. It isn’t currently ringing, but I’m sure it will start up again soon. I look at the missed calls. Wow. I didn’t realize I’ve been ignoring the ringing for nearly two hours. On that note, it starts up again.
“Hello.”
“Good evening, well actually, now, good night. I hope you are doing fine. I have someone who wants to talk to you.” A small smile creeps across my face. The only 15 minutes of the day I get to enjoy. The only 15 minutes where I feel human.
“Mommy?”
“Hey baby! How are you? Are our friends still taking care of you?” I remember, at one point, promising that I’d never lie to my son. Now, I do it daily. I’m not longer a mother. I’m a monster. The only person worse than me is Lance, but these days, it doesn’t seem like we’re different by all that much.
“Good mommy. I got a new Duplo today! When can you come play with me? I miss you.” Cue the leaking. I try and hide my sniffles so that Brayden doesn’t know I’m an emotional mess over him.
“Soon, Brayden, soon. I’m still busy doing work stuff. It will be good for us, I promise. Just a little while longer.” I barely get the words out of my mouth when my sniffs turn into all out snobs. I put my fingers over the microphone on the phone to muffle the crying as best I can.
“Okay. I’m gonna go play more. Love you!” I try and get the words out of my mouth as strong as possible. The best I can manage is a whisper.
“Love you too.”
And with that, my time with Brayden is over. His beautiful, exciting voice now exchanged for sound of all things awful. “Alright. Well, that was truly touching. I hope you know, I hate this. Obviously, I’d never want to separate a mother from a son. But, keep doing good work, and you’ll be together again soon. I think we’re ready for our next move.”
Except for speaking to my son, I find I have no room for emotion in my voice anymore. Listening to Lance for those few seconds is enough to snatch any sense of feeling away. “Wonderful. Just give it to me straight.”
“We’re so very close. This next mission is as important as any we’ve done so far. I’m not counting task three as finished until you do this. You’ve been following Xang around, and that information is crucial. He has a really important badge in his wallet. It will give us access to a really important building. We need this card. Find a way to get it from him.”
