The Good, The Bad and the Scary

I can't express to you how grateful I am to Heavenly Father today.

Yesterday, without rumor or warning, my Director, my boss and another good friend were laid off. Usually we hear rumblings about layoffs way in advance. This time there was nothing. Not a hint. Not a word. Not an allegation. They came to work yesterday and shortly thereafter just went home.

The good side of this is that it's really a notification of being laid off. The actually termination doesn't happen for another 30 days. Meanwhile you're still an employee and you get paid as usual. So, there is time to find something else.

The job market in this area is also relatively good, compared to the rest of the country. All three of them are talented and bright and will most likely fall directly on their feet. I have no doubt of that.

The bad part is that I feel so bad for all of them. What a rotten hand to be dealt...ever! My boss was always so easy to work for. He always had my back and went to bat for me on countless occasions. I will miss all three of them immensely.

The scary part is, it could have been anyone. Why I was spared, I can't tell you. It's certainly not because I'm more talented than they are, because I'm not. It wasn't because Heavenly Father loves me more than them, because He doesn't. I just don't know why it happened the way it did.

All I can tell you is that I'm thankful. Very, very thankful.

Sending Up Shoots - Conclusion

John and Elizabeth were married on a Friday afternoon when the honeysuckle was in bloom and the air was still cool. She wore a taffeta Alfred Angelo gown with crystal beading, sequins and a semi-cathedral train. John was dashing in his Jean Yves Diamant black over grey wool tuxedo. They were a couple taken directly off of the stereotypical wedding cake. Handsome, beautiful, happy.

During their courtship she was at first uneasy when she learned he kept a handgun in the house. It was a small .38 special that he kept in the small table at the start of the hallway, but he assured her that it had never been used. "It's just for protection," he said, gently. "It's New York, after all." She grew accustomed to it being there and soon forgot about it.

She was a little uneasy about his prior marriage, too, and asked him a time or two about it. Again, he tried to reassure her in his easy way, but she could still sense a bit of sadness about him that she attributed to that experience. Though he was happier than he'd ever been in his life, Elizabeth could tell he was still tormented by the memory. "She used to be part of my heart," he said, "now she's just a line on my face."

Only one time did she ask what had happened, but he wasn't in a hurry to volunteer information. He only replied that they'd grown apart and decided to go their separate ways. After that, Elizabeth preferred not to pay attention to the man behind that curtain.

Elizabeth, on her part, didn't volunteer much information about her past, either. She kept in touch with her parents, but all of the old friends were just gossamer ghosts from the past. She'd actually gone in and talked to her boss before leaving the islands, but she'd never given going back a second thought.

Her parents came to the wedding, of course. It was held at St. Michael's Church on West 99th Street. Neither John nor Elizabeth was a member of that congregation, but she'd loved the building so much since she moved to the city that they bribed the pastor there with promises of volunteer work and donations, to let them take their nuptials in his sanctuary.

Directly after throwing the bouquet and brushing rice out of their hair, John and Elizabeth jetted off to Key West, planning their lives together while snorkeling, deep sea fishing and swimming in the pristine waters. They were as deliriously in love as a couple could get.

Upon returning, they moved into her apartment, both spending pensive days staring out the window at the Empire State Building. Elizabeth often wondered how she had been so lucky to meet and marry such a wonderful man.

"Sweetheart, will you come help me?" she called to him, sinking her hands deeper into the steaming dishwater and picking up one of their dinner plates. It had been three months since their wedding and she was still happier than a woman had a right to be. He was everything she could have wanted; attentive, romantic, handsome and gentle.

John laid down the book he was reading and walked to her side. While they washed and dried, it had become his way to intentionally bump her with his hip from time to time, making an oinking sound that always made her laugh. It was a chore he cherished, being able to stand next to the one who'd saved him from his dark abyss.

They talked and laughed about their time in Florida, how they'd met and how she'd fallen for him the very first time she saw him in the Park. He accused her gregariously of spying on him. She grabbed his hands and plunged them deep into the soapy water with hers, the two of them splashing each other and giggling.

Drying each others hands when the job was finished, they stood gazing into each others eyes. The profundity of the love scared them both a little bit, but each loved it more than either could explain. There were just no words suffient and the word "love" seemed inadequate. They stood beside the sink, her back against the cool wetness of the stainless steel, embracing like it was the first time in their lives.

A rough knock on the door snapped them both out of their self-imposed reality.

"I'll get it," John said, giving her a peck on the cheek, walking through the library and into the living room while Elizabeth took herself to cleaning up the rest of the kitchen.

John reached for the lock and twisted it.

He turned the knob and opened the door.

In the open expanse stood Tony.

A confused smile came on Tony's face as John took a tremendous gasp and rushed into the hallway. Pulling the door quietly and quickly behind him, he whispered forcefully, "What are you doing here, Tony? I paid you this month! I don't owe you anything right now!"

Tony smiled broadly, showing the green decay that covered his teeth. "Relaxth, Johnny-caketh," he said. "I'm not here to thee you."

John tilted his head like a curious puppy. "What do you mean, you're not here to see me?" he asked.

Elizabeth hung the dishtowel on the rack next to the sink and made her way into the living room. Noticing the front door slightly ajar, she walked over and reached for the knob.

Her blood ran chill.

She stood, trembling, with her ear next to the door, barely breathing.

"Ha!" she heard him laugh. "You mean, she didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" asked John, becoming angrier as the seconds inched by.

Elizabeth reached for the knob.

And pulled.

John looked quickly over his shoulder at Elizabeth, and drew in a quick, desperate gasp of air.

Tony looked at Elizabeth, too.

And smiled menacingly.

"You!" exclaimed Elizabeth, looking straight into Tony's horrible face.

Tony opened his mouth wide and laughed, his whole body convulsing.

"Well, well, well, Johnny-caketh," he said between guffaws. "You and Lithy thitting in a tree! Ba ha ha ha!!"

The laughter poured out of him like water through a sieve as John straightened himself out, turned and looked at his new bride. "How do you know Tony?" he asked.

Elizabeth paid no attention to the query and looked intently at Tony instead. "What are you doing here, Jax?" she asked, disgustedly. "Why can't you guys leave me alone?"

Tony shook his head. "It'th not you guyth anymore, Lithy," he said. It'th jutht me now. He got pinched a couple of weekth after you dithapeared. He'th thitting in the thtate pen in Honolulu for ten to fifteen."

"I'm glad to hear it," Elizabeth said disgustedly. "He deserves more than that."

John looked at her inquisitively. "Who are you talking about, Elizabeth?" he asked. "And why are you calling him Jax? His name's not Jax. It's Tony."

"Not when I knew him it wasn't," she said, staring at Tony with fire in her eyes. "What do you want? I'm done working with you."

Tony stood next to John, his eyes wide open with surprise, chortling. "Wait a minute," he cried. "You mean you two haven't talked about your patht with each other? Ba ha ha ha ha!" He continued for what seemed like hours, guffawing with tears flowing down his cheeks. "Thith ith jutht tho preciouth!!"

John felt the ire rise in him like high tide at Coney Island. Then he saw the spark in Elizabeth's eyes, too. A tiny smile curled her lips and evil glowed from her eyes. John knew exactly what she was planning the second he saw it.

Looking back at the cackling Tony, John smiled broadly and said, "We were about to sit down to dinner, Tony," he lied, an infernal sneer forming itself like a crown on his lips. "Would you like something as well?"

"Yes! Please!" exclaimed Elizabeth wickedly. "Please come in and have something."

Tony wiped the tears from his eyes and took his first step, almost routinely, into the ample studio apartment. "Nithe plathe you got here," he said. "I'm thurprithed you can afford it!"

"Oh, we can't," John said, as he shut the door behind them.

"No, we really can't," added Elizabeth, as she walked briskly toward the small table at the start of the hallway.

The End

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"Secrets are like plants. They can stay buried deep in the earth for a long time, but eventually they'll send up shoots and give themselves away. They have to. It's their nature. Just a tiny green stem at first. Which slowly, insidiously grows taller, stronger, unfolding itself, until there it is. A big fat secret, right in front of your face; a fully bloomed flower perfumed with the scent of deception." — Judy Reene Singer

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Sending up Shoots - Part VIII

Elizabeth hadn't slept more than a couple of hours for weeks. She just couldn't get her brain to give it a rest. Hour after hour she would lie there, feeling the pillow get warmer and warmer, until she had to turn it over to get some relief. New York City summers, especially those without air conditioning, were sometimes very brutal.

Like an unwelcome neighbor, the memories of the last six months were a constant visitor to her conscience. She could still smell his aftershave, could still feel the way he caressed her hand, and the sick, weak feeling she had when she answered his question. She would regret saying that one word for the rest of her life.

When they arrived at the gate, Jax was already there, looking at his watch and pacing. He saw them when they were still halfway down the terminal. Grabbing his small bag and running toward them, he shouted, "Where have you been?"

Smiling, he grabbed Jax's hand and squeezed.

"How've you been, you old so and so?" he said.

Jax pulled his hand away and pointed at the clock across the terminal. "We got here a half hour ago," he exclaimed. "They think I'm talking in fifteen! What took you?"

"Nice to see you, too, Jaxxy!" he said, pulling Elizabeth closer. "I'd like you to meet someone very special to me, Jax. This is Elizabeth."

Elizabeth extended her hand and said, "Nice to meet you, Jax."

Jax shook her hand, but kept his eyes on him. "I've got to get over to the college, and I mean right now! Come on, we gotta get my bag!"

"What do you mean?" he asked. "I thought it was all starting tomorrow."

Jax shook his head. "No, no, no. I have to talk in fifteen! If I'm not there, we could come up short on a pantload of money from our client!!"

Jax wrung his hands and walked as fast as he could toward Customs and the baggage claim area. "I'm never going to make it! I'm going to get fired!"

"Jax, calm down!" he exclaimed, trying to keep up. "Customs won't take that long. Your clients will understand if you're just a couple of minutes late."

Jax stopped and stared at him directly in the eyes, lightly grabbing his collar in his right hand. "No, they won't!" he demanded. "You don't know them! If I'm not there, they'll go to another company! I'll be fired!"

"Wait, Jax," he said. "Elizabeth is a Custom's agent." Turning toward her he asked, "Isn't there something you can do, some way to get him through more quickly?"

Elizabeth loved him more than she'd ever loved anyone. She would have walked across fire. But all of her training screamed in her head. "No!" it exclaimed. "There's nothing you can do!"

She felt the anxiety deep in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to help Jax, desperately, but she'd been trained for just this sort of experience. Feeling her hands start to shake and her knees buckle, she heard herself say the word she never thought she'd utter in this situation.

"Sure."

A couple of weeks later he asked her to return to the airport again, and then another time three days later. Both times Jax had large bags that needed to skirt around the hovering Customs agents. Both times she helped, flashing her badge at the appropriate time. She trusted him, loved him, she wanted to be with him forever.

Until she found out what she'd been doing.

Sighing heavily and rolling back over onto her cooler side, Elizabeth remembered the distinct ring of her phone, now wishing she'd never answered the call. Late on a Thursday afternoon, six months before, he'd called her again and asked her to return to the airport with him. Elizabeth knew what she'd done was illegal, so she balked at the invitation. That's when he confronted her with the truth.

"What you don't realize, sweet Elizabeth, is that you've now helped us three times," he said. "Three times you've helped get illegal drugs into the United States. Three times you've become an accessory to a crime. Three times you've betrayed your training, your country and your agent friends. If you don't help us again, you WILL be turned in to the authorities with an anonymous phone call."

She shook her head and closed her eyes as she recalled how she'd packed her bags, bid farewell to her mom and dad, gone to the airport and bought a ticket for New York City...one way. Hopefully, he'd never be able to find her in such a big town.

Elizabeth raised her hand to her face and consciously swept away those distant memories, choosing instead to concentrate on the new ones she'd made since moving into her Brownstone on the upper West side. She'd found a good job, made a few new friends, and even met a handsome man in the Park who made it almost impossible to sleep.

The first time she saw him he was sitting on a small knoll just off one of the myriad jogging trails near the Lasker Ice Rink. She'd only been in town for a couple of weeks and was still too shy to talk to much of anyone, so she kept on her way.

Several days later she saw him again, this time making his way north toward Central Park West at Columbus Circle. He was going her way, so she followed him, about a block behind, until he turned down West 75th Street. She hurried to the corner so as not to lose him, but when she looked down the street all she saw was the requisite 60 cars parked along both sides and a large pile of gravel and dirt surrounded by traffic cones. He was gone.

She finally met him two weeks later, on a cool Autumn day when the wind was blowing and the leaves were starting to turn. Standing on the corner just outside her Brownstone, she lifted her hand to hail a cab.

After five minutes of unsuccessful attempts, a yellow taxi stopped in front of her. Stepping toward the cab she gripped the door's handle and pulled. Sticking her head inside she looked up and he was there. Sitting next to her.

"I..I..I'm sorry," she said nervously, quickly. "I didn't know this was your cab."

She was starting to back out when he reached out and touched her hand.

"Please," he said. "Share it with me."

Elizabeth breathed deeply, feeling her heart quiver like it had done only one other time. "Thank you," she replied. "That's very thoughtful of you."

She could barely contain her excitement. Her hands trembled as she gripped the handle and closed the door.

"My name is Elizabeth," she said, again feeling no more than twelve years old.

"Nice to meet you, Elizabeth," he replied. He stuck out his hand and shook hers firmly, smiling intently.

"My name is John."

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Coming soon - The Conclusion