The Lost Door (18 page)

“You,” he said in a quiet gruff voice, “are not my son.”

Willem felt like he’d been punch in the gut and all strength flowed from him. The tears were torrential, his mouth hung open wide, no sound escaping.

His father stood, took his red cap, and walked back outside.

Not your son? Of course I’m your son!

Far off in the distance the sky flashed blue.

What does he mean? What?!

Seconds ticked by. It felt an eternity.

Howdy Doody sang, the kids joined in.

A roll of thunder joined the car engine turning over, and then Willem’s father was gone.

* * *

David was behind the wheel of a 1954 blue Chevy 210 DeLuxe, a nice sized sedan he and his wife had purchased used last year. They were on their way back from dinner at The Lodge, a restaurant two towns over from River Bend. It was one of the fancier places in the area, a bit out of their price range, but they’d decided to splurge this one time in celebration.

The sun had set an hour ago, the full moon the only light. They traveled along Highway 49, a two-lane road that wound around rolling meadows, through thick woods, and around several lakes. Minnesota may be the state of ten-thousand lakes but that was nothing compared to what they had.

David glanced at Lilly, an attractive petite brunette. She wore a gentle smile on her lightly painted red lips oblivious to David eyeing her. He couldn’t help but smile too. He reached across and took her hand in his.

Pregnant! They were going to be parents. Lilly had sprung the news on him last night after he’d returned home from work. The foul mood he’d been in had washed away, her joy infectious. He’d rushed to her and swept her into his arms, picking her up and spinning her, she laughing sweetly.

They’d been trying for a year to get pregnant and after two miscarriages they’d started to think it wasn’t meant to be. It was sad—they both wanted to be parents—but there was nothing they could do to change it. Then yesterday, Lilly had told him she was three months along. That had been a shocker.

David’s mind wandered to when they’d first met. It had been a few weeks after the Shaw’s had moved in next door. His parents wanted to welcome them to the neighborhood properly and invited them over for dinner. Harold and Joan Shaw accepted and came over with their daughter Lilly the following Friday.

David was a senior in high school, handsome, and into sports. He played football and wrestled, was considered one of the better competitors by many. Lilly was a sophomore, beautiful, and quiet. She didn’t have many friends and stayed mostly to herself.

Lilly wore a blue dress and gold necklace with an unusual pendant, the same one she wore now. She’d been quiet at first, but as the night wore on she opened up a little. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he’d become enamored. There was an alluring mystery about her, one that pulled at him.

All too soon the evening was over, and David was sorry to see Lilly go. She was intoxicating, and he wanted to soak in her presence. But they were two years apart—such a big difference in high school.

A week later Lilly approached David. As they talked it turned out they had similar interests. Both liked hiking in the woods and loved the music of Perry Como. She was surprised he watched
I Love Lucy
and he equally shocked to learn she adored
Alfred Hitchcock Presents.
From that moment on they spent much of their free time together studying or just hanging out. It was relaxing knowing you didn’t have to put on a façade to try and impress a person.

Their friendship blossomed, and when David went off to college they made it a ritual to write each other weekly. When she was looking at colleges he helped her by offering suggestions but, in the end, she chose the same school as he.

The school had a dance night the day after mid-term finals where they encouraged the students to unwind, and both David and Lilly thought it would be fun. They’d dressed in their best—their best being their Sunday clothes—and met outside the gym. Lilly had arrived first and was by the steps clutching her purse in both hands. Her back was to him and when he’d called her name she’d turned and his breath caught. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time, her aura enveloping him. He could smell her perfume on the breeze, saw her radiant smile and gently blowing hair. It was in that moment he knew he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

The two had a great time in the gym dancing, and when Perry Como started singing “If” the lights dimmed and they moved in close. At the songs refrain he leaned in and kissed her. When they pulled away they looked into each other’s eyes, she smiled sweetly, and put her head to his chest.

They married immediately after Lilly graduated college. The first time she missed her period she was overjoyed. When the test came back positive she shared the news with David who was ecstatic. Then she’d lost it. Just one of those things, the doctor had said. The second miscarriage had crushed her.

When she had become pregnant the third time she hadn’t told him. She didn’t want the weight of a third miscarriage on his shoulders too, so she’d waited three months to make sure the pregnancy had stuck. She explained all this to him last night, blubbering in excitement and joy. And now here they were, finally going to be parents. Six more months and they’d be welcoming a new life into the world.

The moon dimmed as clouds passed in front of it. A flash far off in the sky brought David’s attention back. Looked like a storm was moving in. His watch read 10:42. Another fifteen minutes and they’d be home—they should be able to beat the rain.
Looks like it’ll be a doozy,
David thought as several more flashes illuminated the black clouds.

He glanced at Lilly. “Are you feeling okay?”

She laughed. “It’s still early. I’m not even showing yet.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. “It’s just… You know…”

Lilly nodded in understanding. “I’m fine. Really. If I feel anything… strange… I’ll be sure to let you know. Okay?”

“Okay. Did you mention anything to Doug today?” Doug was her boss, a doctor who appeared abrasive to strangers, but was actually kind. He didn’t like people to know, though.

“Not yet. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“You think he’ll be okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Because I don’t know if he’ll want to lose you, if even for a few months.”

“It’s really not his decision, now is it? Besides, there are other girls who can do my job.”

“Maybe, but not as well as you.”

“You flatter me,” she said slapping his arm. Her eyes darted to him and she bit her lower lip.

“What?” he asked. She looked surprised—probably didn’t think he saw her do that, her telltale sign she had something to say.

“‘What’ what?”

“I know that look.”

“You know no such thing. You can’t see anything anyway. It’s nearly pitch black!”

A flash of lightning coursed through the heavens. A raindrop hit the window.

“Damn,” David said.

Lilly looked over. “What?”

“It’s nothing. I was just hoping to make it home before the rain.”

Droplets began to pelt the windshield leaving streaks of water running down. David turned on the wipers in a futile attempt at better visibility.

“Just drive carefully,” Lilly instructed. “It’s not a race.”

“I know.”

They drove in silence, farmlands giving way to silhouette forests that hugged the shoulder. David looked at his watch again: 10:45. Why did time always move at a snail’s pace when you were in a hurry?

Another flash of lightning, the trees and their shadow mates visible briefly. A roll of thunder echoed across the land.

Ahead of them the refracting lights of an oncoming car crest a hill. Looked like the other driver had his brights on. David slowed a little in anticipation of being blinded.
Probably will wait until the last second to turn them off,
he thought. He hated people who did that.

The car was now a quarter mile away and the brights were still on. That was enough. David flashed his lights hoping to alert the driver, but it did no good. He gave it to the count of ten and tried again. The lights were now washing out the wet windshield.

Asshole. David looked to the shoulder on the right. Instead of the usual gravel was just tall grass. At least he could see and had some reference as to where he was on the road. Just a few more seconds and the car would pass them and be able to see again.

Then there was movement on the road.

In David’s peripheral vision he thought he saw a deer. He swerved to the right, his foot pumping the brake. As soon as the tires were on the grass he had no traction. Lilly let out a squeal.

The other vehicle swerved into their lane, tires screeching on pavement. A flash of lightning and a crack of thunder.

David tried to regain control of his car, tugged the wheel left, but it was no use. The other driver smashed into the rear passenger side of the Chevy, blue paint peeling away, jackknifing them. David grunted as the car spun out, tilted, and flipped. The car rolled off the road into the ditch.

David hit his head and there was a flash of white across his vision. The world was discombobulated: up was down in a confusing vortex of strobe lights.

There was a final bump and the car caught itself and stopped, coming to rest on its side.

The white dissolved and he could see, but then blackness began to overtake him.

No!

He fought to hold onto his consciousness, looked to Lilly. Her eyes were closed, blood oozing from a dozen lacerations on her face.

No! No! No!

David tried to reach for her, to take her hand in his, but his arm was weak. He tried to lift his arm but exhaustion won out. He was tired. He needed to take a nap. Just a short one.

No!

His fingers inched closer to her, eyelids heavy.

Have to… to stay awake… Have to…

The outside world blurred then faded. His finger brushed Lilly’s hand.

And then unconsciousness washed over him.

* * *

When David had first entered the hospital room Lilly’s parents had been here. They updated him on her status—there was none—before they’d excused themselves to the waiting room.

“If you need anything just come find us,” Mrs. Shaw had said.

David sat in a chair next to Lilly’s bed. She lay unconscious under white sheets, strange medical devices connected to her. David didn’t know what it all was, but he was assured they weren’t hurting her.

It had been two weeks since the accident. He’d come to in the back of someone’s car. A Good Samaritan stopped when he saw the cars and had pulled them from their car and got them to the hospital.

Lilly was still in a coma and, even more heartbreaking, she’d lost the baby. The accident had caused serious internal trauma resulting in a hysterectomy. Whatever hope they’d had for children was now gone forever.

The doctors prepared him for the worst, that Lilly may never again regain consciousness. They’d done all they could, and now it was up to her and God. He believed that if she fought hard enough that she would come back to him, and he would be at her side when she did. She was a strong woman and he knew that she would fight for as long as she could. All it required was patience.

The police had been by to see him the day after he’d woke. They were still looking for the other driver—who appeared to have run off into the woods and disappeared—but after checking on the plates they were in contact with the family.

Who was it?

We’re not at liberty to say until we’ve located him.

Fifteen minutes later they were gone.

A fucking deer. If not for that then this entire thing—this entire
tragedy
—could have been avoided. And what of the other driver? Where had he gone? Why couldn’t they find him? Surely he wouldn’t abandon his family over this.

People do strange things when they’re scared,
he told himself.
People disappear all the time.

David grabbed Lilly’s warm soft hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

* * *

Willem’s father had been missing for nearly two months, and the police had stopped coming by. No one seemed to know where he’d gone after the accident. Secretly he didn’t care though—after the horrible things his father had said he’d just assume he never come back.

He still thought of that final moment. At some point his mother had come into the kitchen, asking,
Did I hear your dad?
That’s when she saw him sobbing on the floor. She’d swept him into her arms, cooing and comforting, not knowing what was wrong, until he’d finally told her.

Maybe you misheard him?
she’d said. He wish that were the case, but no matter how much he’d tried to convince himself his mother was right and he was wrong his father’s words kept coming back, stabbing him in the heart. When he’d calmed down enough he’d excused himself and gone upstairs, wrapping himself up in his blanket on his bed, and drifted off to a fitful sleep.