Gifts and Consequences

Gifts and Consequences

Copyright 2011 Daniel Coleman

This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Jodie Coleman

[email protected]

Edited by Chadd VanZanten, Jodie Coleman, and Nancy Felt

Second Edition

Copyright 2012

Other Books by Daniel Coleman

Jabberwocky

Hatter

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, to my wife, Jodie, for helping me turn scattered ideas into a meaningful story.  Also for the award-winning cover design and final edit.  Finally, for putting up with me during NaNoWriMo 2009.  I can't thank you enough.

To my editor, Chadd VanZanten, who didn’t pull any punches and helped me see what I couldn’t on my own.  You could be working in New York.

To my other editor, Nancy Felt, who in addition to her vast Alzheimer's expertise, knows that Calico cats are female and the home team bats in the bottom of the inning.  You don't miss a thing.

To my Beta readers—Liz, April, Truman, Ben and Allyson.  Thanks for the suggestions and votes of confidence.

To anyone who's ever suffered along with an Alzheimer's patient, I've done my best to represent your pain and frustration.  Seeing a 45 year old not recognize his wife of 20 years was one of the most heart-wrenching experiences of my life, and was the seed from which this book grew.

To Rodney and Pat Walker,

whose kindness has no end.

I miss you, Rodney

Part I

May

A strident noise wrenched Jonathan Wheeler out of sleep and he reached protectively across the bed before remembering the other side had been empty for months.  He scooped his ringing cell off the nightstand and checked the caller ID.  Marcus.

“Where to?” asked Jonathan.

“Lancaster, New York,” said Marcus.

“What time?”

“Four forty-five at a high school twenty minutes from the airport.”

Jonathan swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.  “High school?  A teacher, then?”

“A student.  He’s eighteen so he can legally enter into contracts.  Not that you care about legality.”

Jonathan grinned and said, “Have the plane ready at noon.  Email the details and I’ll read them en route.  Thanks, Marcus.”

Ten hours later Jonathan drove his rental car into the north parking lot of Lancaster High School and parked the shiny Mustang nose to nose with a beat-up, red Mustang.  Football practice had just ended and the players straggled to their vehicles which speckled the parking lot.  Jonathan got out of his car and leaned against the hood.

Within minutes, his target came out of a large building near the football field and ambled toward the cars.  Jonathan had never seen him before, but Tyler’s dark orange hair and copper freckles fit the description perfectly. 

Ignoring Jonathan, Tyler opened his car door and threw a dirty Lancaster Redskins jersey into the passenger seat, followed unceremoniously by a heavy backpack.

“May I have a moment of your time?” Jonathan asked and stepped next to the front fender. 

Tyler looked up.  After a glance at the shiny Mustang, he said, "Yeah.”

“Would you be interested in a pair of tickets to
the
concert next week?”

He had Tyler’s attention.  “Who’re you?”

“That's not important,” answered Jonathan, already expecting the question.

“Those tickets are scalpin’ for over a grand.”  Tyler put one foot on the running board of his car.

“I’m not selling them,” said Jonathan.

“Oh, you just giving them away?” asked Tyler with the mocking sarcasm only a teenager can manage.

“I never give anything for free.  Except the opportunity to earn something.”

Tyler looked around as if just noticing the deserted parking lot.  Though he stood half a foot taller than Jonathan, and he was in better physical condition, he still squirmed.  “I’m not doing anything weird.”  He got into his car and shut the door, but opened the window enough to continue the conversation. 

“Is asking Lisa Knapp out on a date ‘weird’?” asked Jonathan.

“The girl with no friends?”

“She is not friendless.  Maybe I’m the only one, but I am her friend.”

“I know who she is,” said Tyler, “but only because she lives in the apartments behind my house.  We had the same bus stop for a long time.”

Jonathan withdrew two tickets from his overcoat pocket.  “These are the conditions:  I will give you two tickets to the concert.  You will call Lisa Knapp and ask her to accompany you.  You will take her to the concert and treat her with respect.  You will tell no one of our agreement—”

“So what’s in it for you?” interrupted Tyler. 

“The only other condition is that you question me no further regarding my identity, motives, relationship with the young lady, or anything else.  Do you have any questions regarding the conditions?”

“You just told me ‘no questions’.”

Jonathan ignored the mouthy tone.  “I’m not going to spell out the consequences, but I will tell you I am no one to be trifled with.”  He leaned forward and said, “Let me put that in words you can understand; you do not want to screw with me.  If you agree to the arrangement, next Friday will be one of the most memorable nights of your life.  Whether the memories are pleasant or bitter depends on how closely you adhere to the conditions.”

Tyler just stared at the tickets.

“Are the terms agreeable?” asked Jonathan.

“Yeah,” blurted Tyler, sticking his hand out the window.

Jonathan withdrew the tickets and said, “Give me your word that you will follow every detail.”

“I give you my word.”  He shoved his hand out farther until his forearm caught in the narrow space.

“I dialed Lisa for you,” said Jonathan, offering Tyler his cell phone in place of the tickets.  “Don’t worry, she does not have a date to the prom that night.”

“Tickets first!” demanded Tyler, staring at the ringing phone.

“This is not a negotiation, Tyler.”

Tyler snatched the phone and had to wait only a second. 

“Lisa?” he said, “This is Tyler O’Hara, I live—oh, okay.  Well I scored tickets to the Nirvana tribute next Friday.  Do you wanna go?  Okay.  The concert starts at—” he looked at the tickets in Jonathan’s outstretched hand, “—seven thirty.  I’ll pick you up at six thirty.  Don’t do that girl thing and make me wait like an hour for you to get ready.  Uh huh.”

He hung up and eagerly traded the phone for the tickets.

“Thanks,” said Tyler with a wicked smirk.

The window went up and Tyler put his car in gear, but paused before backing out.  He cracked the window again, and asked, “Which one of my stupid friends told you that I said I'd take the, take Lisa if I could get tickets?”

“The terms of our agreement prohibit such questions.  I understand the contract is unusual, so I will grant you that one misstep.”

Tyler shook his head and flew out of the parking lot.  By the time he was on Pleasant View Drive he had his own cell phone to his ear. 

As he approached his wife’s door later that evening, Jonathan paused as he did every night.  He took a breath and entered her room.

Susan sat in her recliner, smiling at him. 

What goes on in your mind when you sit here alone?
he wondered.

Not surprisingly, the DVDs remained on the TV stand where he’d left them the night before.  The magazines on the nightstand were untouched.  The TV was off; no music played.  Just Susan, sitting alone in her room.   

The puzzles and television didn’t matter to Jonathan, but her other pursuits had fallen by the wayside as well.  Her running and hiking shoes hadn’t been worn for months.  She no longer cared if people she loved were around her.  It wasn’t unhappiness, exactly, but her level of contentment didn’t change no matter if she was alone or not.

But the most telltale sign of change was the loss of interest in the philanthropy that had once consumed her.  Jonathan knew the world was worse off for it.  The scrapbook of mementos from her many anonymous projects lay on her nightstand, but Susan never opened it anymore.

At first, her friends spent a lot of time with her.  They visited often and took her out, but she quickly lost interest in leaving home.  Social situations caused her stress and the anxiety lasted for hours, even after returning home.  For a while her friends continued to visit, but only one at a time.  Within eighteen months she had forgotten all of their names, and they had found more pressing matters than a woman who could barely remember who they were.

As Jonathan crossed the room he couldn’t help but notice her unchanged appearance.  Even in her early forties Susan still had movie star beauty.  Her matching brown hair and eyes still never failed to cause sparks in Jonathan’s chest.

Jonathan kissed Susan’s cheek and gave her a white daisy.  She looked at it and said, “These are my favorite!  My sister, Mary, and I used to sneak into the neighbor’s yard and pick them.  Boy, did we get in trouble when he caught us.”

Taking his usual seat Jonathan forced himself to ask, “Do you remember who I am?”

Eventually she would recognize him, but be unable to recall his name.  Then one day she would not even realize that she knew him.  Jonathan tried to not even think about that day. 

“Of course,” said Susan with a puzzled expression.  “You’re my husband.  Jonathan.”

“And I always will be, Susan.” 
One more day
, he thought. 
She remembered me one more day
.

“I have the beginning of a story for you,” said Jonathan.  “Would you like to hear it?” 

She nodded. 

“I don’t yet know how this one ends, but I’ll tell you how it starts.”

Susan smiled and waited for him to begin.

“Once there was a seventeen-year-old girl named Lisa who had a very difficult life.  Her mother died when she was four years old and she was left in the care of her stepfather, Buck.  She would have been better off in the foster care system with a possibility of being adopted, but Buck claimed he would take care of her.”

Sitting back in the chair, Jonathan went on.  “Between the support Lisa got from the State of New York and her mother’s small life insurance policy, Buck didn’t have to work.  The two stipends supported his alcoholism and indolence.  Lisa was nothing but a meal ticket and an annoyance.”

Jonathan poured some water from the pitcher on the nightstand and took a sip.  Susan still didn’t speak.

“He was abusive with Lisa and the few friends she brought home, and by the time she was seven, Lisa learned that the easiest way to get through life would be as a nobody.  No friends, no messes, no noise.  Also no achievements and no dreams.”

Jonathan studied Susan, looking for signs of empathy or sadness, but her expression didn’t change.  She watched, ready for him to continue, but he was unsure if his words meant anything to her.