Across The Pond, page 11
“I’m leaving that up to Mr. Chase. My barrister?”
“You mean lawyer, I think. My! They’ve done a great job! Rob’s just as good as his father! Better, actually, since his English is more fluent. Shame, you’re leaving all this behind. Still, there’s no place like home, huh? So, you giving me the grand tour, or what? I spent two hours on them muffins, you know?”
With a laugh, I proudly show her the ground floor, but she insists on seeing the entire place, even the upper floors. The muffins smell fantastic, so how could I possibly refuse?
“So what time’s your flight?” she asks when we return to the ground floor.
“Later this evening. I’ve been warned to be there as early as possible, so I should be leaving in a few more hours.”
“Yeah. Those security guys at the airport love to rape people. It’s disgusting. Rob taking you there?”
“Goodness, no. Why ever would you think that?” I don’t mind Rob’s family knowing, not even his men, but I’d like to keep my neighbors out of my personal business for the time being.
“Oh, just asking. Thought you two were getting close, is all.”
“Mrs. Abramovitz, the Aguillar family were friends with my grandparents, is all, and...”
“So you two aren’t having an affair?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with you, even if we were,” I reply frostily. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to get ready for the airport.”
“Just a minute there, no need to be sensitive. I was friends with Ginnie and Max, too, you know?”
“Nevertheless, if you’ll excuse me,” I say as I head toward the door.
“We-hull, ain’t we the high and mighty here, considering what thieves your grandparents were.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, you heard me, Daniela.”
The old woman standing before me suddenly looks different. Gone is the pleasant smile and slightly vapid look. Standing before me now is a stranger, and I am afraid. A voice is telling me to throw her out and slam the door behind her, but I cannot ignore what she just said.
“My grandparents were not thieves!”
“Oh, Daniela. You don’t know a thing about them, do you? Thieves, criminals. That’s what they were! I know! They stole from me!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs. Abra...”
“Then let me tell you something about your grandfather,” she replies in a growl. “He and my husband were friends, the best of friends. It was us who welcomed your grandparents into this neighborhood, introduced them to everyone!”
“But when the Big C got my Jordie, and the bills kept piling up, instead of helping, what did Max and Ginnie do? Nothin’. Except to steal from us. Steal! As if we didn’t have enough problems!”
“My grandparents never stole anything in their life, Mrs. Abramovitz. And I’ve had enough! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some more packing to do.”
“Did you find the gold coins?”
I freeze in the act of opening the door.
“So you did, huh? Give it back. It doesn’t belong to you, it belongs to me. I know you had nothing to do with it. So be a good girl and just give it back,” she finishes with a smile and a pleasant tone of voice, looking and sounding like the original Mrs. Abramovitz I knew.
The immediate change in her tone and demeanor sends a tingle of renewed fear up and down my spine, and I step back in surprise.
“Not so fast, dear,” she says, still in that pleasant and calm tone of voice.
This time, however, she is holding a gun in her hand. I am mesmerized by the sight of it, unable to tear my gaze away from that small piece of cold metal.
“We needed the money for my Jordie’s medical bills. Insurance would only cover part of it. I gave your grandfather some gold coins my parents brought over from the old country. Been in my family for generations. Cleaned out my savings, as well. But in the end, it did no good. My Jordie died anyway.”
“But I thought,: no problem. Thank gGod for my retirement plan and 401K. But you know what happened to those, don’t you? Banks got broke, Obama bailed them out, bankers paid themselves bonuses, but what about my retirement plan? What about my 401K? Poof!”
“So I need that collection back, dearie. You understand, don’t you? I tried to convince Ginnie to give it back, but…”
“What are you saying!?”
“Accidents happen, Danny. We didn’t lay a hand on her, but she had a weak heart. Maybe I was a bit too insistent, but I’m an old lady. I got bills to pay. You understand, don’t you?”
“I don’t understand,” I reply weakly. “What do you mean ‘accidents happen?’ They say my gran had a heart attack.”
“Uh-huh. That’s exactly what happened. She wouldn’t tell me where those coins were. Said we hadn’t paid to get ‘em back. For years we were friends, and this is what I got for all our years of friendship!? I thought that if she saw what I was going through, me with my own weak heart and all, she’d understand.”
“Oh my god!. What did you do?”
“Nothing! Didn’t lay a hand on her! Then my nephew came in, and… now don’t look at me like that! He didn’t lay a hand on her either! But like I said, Ginnie had a weak heart. I guess he scared her, or something.”
“I even called 911 for her. Didn’t I tell you that when you first got here? But that’s water under the bridge. Anyway, you still have time to get it from your bank, dear. Wouldn’t want to keep you from your flight, now, would we?”
“Mrs. Abramovitz, please put that away. I...”
“My car’s waiting outside, Daniela,” and I flinch as she lifts the gun toward my head. “Now, Daniela! I haven’t got all day!”
I panic and run toward the door. Flinging it wide, I slam into a man. Thinking it’s Rob, I start babbling hysterically at him, but it’s not.
“Andy! Run!” but he holds me in place, not letting me run. “Andy, there’s a woman with a gun inside!”
“You got her? Good. You know what to do,” says Mrs. Abramovitz calmly, the gun hidden away this time as she looks up and down the street.
“What’s going on!? Andy!?”
“Ms. Sorensen,” he says calmly in his Southern drawl. “Please cooperate. This doesn’t have to take long. We just want what’s rightfully ours, ma’am.”
“Daniela,” Mrs. Abramovitz continues in her dear, little old lady persona. “Just withdraw the coins from your bank, and you can be on your way to your flight. Andy here’s my nephew. He and my niece will drive you to the bank. From there, you can make your way to the plane, nice and easy.”
I look down, and see a familiar gray Toyota. Peering inside, I see Amy. I’m about to call out to her for help, but she looks up at me from behind the driver’s seat, and the nervous look she gives me stops me cold. Andy hustles me down the stairs, and I desperately look around for people, but there are none.
He opens the passenger door of the car, and on it is the Fendi bag I gave Amy as a gift. The surreal feeling that had gripped me when Mrs. Abramovitz had dropped her mask wiswas finally slipping away, and the reality of the situation is finally sinking in.
“We’re desperate people, Daniela,” Mrs. Abramovitz says, looking down the street toward her house. “Don’t think for a moment that we won’t do whatever we have to just to get what’s ours back. We’re a big family, dear. Just do as you’re told and no one needs to get hurt.
“Piss me off, dear, and I just might have a job for your Mr. Aguillar. That’s a hottie, that one. I wouldn’t mind having him do overtime at my place. Have I made myself perfectly clear, Daniela?”
To her credit, Amy looks embarrassed as I sit next to her, not even looking my way as she drives off, leaving behind Mrs. Abramovitz outside my house. Matthews. Amy’s surname is Matthews. Same as Andy’s. Such a common name.
“Don’t worry,” Amy says nervously, still avoiding my gaze. “She’s going to pack your stuff for you. It’ll all be there at the airport waiting for you when all this is through.”
She doesn’t sound at all convincing. With a sick feeling, I realize they’re never going to let me board my flight.
***
~ Rigoberto
“You’re an idiot, mijo,” my mother says, banging pots and pans in her kitchen as she prepares breakfast for us. “You’re letting her get away.”
“I’m not letting her get away, Mma,” I reply. “She’s coming back. Her visa only lets her stay here for three months. She’ll be back.”
“Then why aren’t you the one taking her to the airport? A final goodbye? Ai, Madre de dios! When she goes back to Europe, she’ll find someone worthy of her, not some idiot like my son.”
“That’s not fair! She didn’t want me to take her to the airport, she...”
“Trust me. She wants you to take her to the airport! What kind of a man doesn’t take care of his woman, ai! Your father would never have let me go on a trip without a final goodbye, even before we were married, he stuck to me like glue. That’s how you let a woman know you love her. That’s how you express your love. Why, I remember the day that...
“Roberto? Roberto, where are you going!? Ai, at least take a sandwich with you!”
“Good luck, dad,” Catalina yells at me.
But I’m no longer listening. I am bounding down the stairs in suicidal strides. She’s right. She’s absolutely right. Since Danny’s leaving, I want to make sure that she at least sees my face before she boards that plane.
She should still be at the house, since her flight’s not till this evening. The hell was I thinking? I should have spent the day with her.
Upon reaching her house, I fly up her landing, and shake my head when my first knock gets the door open. I don’t know how they do things in England, but here in Jersey, you do not leave your door unlocked.
“Danny!?” Nno answer, so I run up the stairs to her room. “Danny?”
Her suitcases are still here. I run into the other rooms, but no reply. In a panic, I run out to the garden, but still no response. I run back to her room and notice that on her dresser is her black leather bag. Beside it is her passport.
I’m getting a bad feeling about this. Heart in my mouth, I pick up my phone.
***
~ Daniela
“Please don’t do anything stupid, Danny,” Amy says as we pull into the parking lot of the bank where I deposited the coins at. “The place is crawling with security, but remember,: we know where the Aguillars live. Just get the coins and get out. And just to make sure you don’t do anything heroic, I’m coming in with you.”
As soon as Amy and I get out, Andy gets out from the back and gets behind the driver’s seat, then drives off.
“Andy is going to the Aguillars,” Amy says by way of explanation. “If he doesn’t hear from me soon... Like I said, Danny, don’t be stupid. I’m really sorry about this.”
The sight of the guards does not make me feel any better. There is no doubt in my mind that these people are crazy, and I will not forgive myself if anything happens to Catalina, Rob, and his mother.
I approach the front desk to ask for the key to my safety deposit box. The clerk inputs my name into her computer, beams cheerfully at me, and summons another clerk, a man this time, who bows and asks me to follow him. Amy and I do so, and he smiles pleasantly at her, leading the way silently into a vault.
I have a moment of panic as a security guard scans us with a wand detector, but nothing goes off. Satisfied, the guard gives us a bow and steps aside, letting us into the vault, preceded by our guide. When we get to my safe, he gives us another bow, hands me my key, and leaves.
I am surprised at how steady my hands are as I unlock the safe and take out the box with the coins. Amy grabs and opens it, gasping as she opens the first box.
“She’s actually my grand aunt, you know,” she sighs, enraptured at the sight of the first coin. “Your grandparents stole this from us.”
“That’s not true, Amy. They pawned it, but were unable to pay it back.”
“No! My aunt handed this collection over to your grandparents for safekeeping. When my uncle died, they kept it. Didn’t give it back.”
“Amy, that’s a lie. Mrs. Abra… your aunt told me what happened. That’s not theft. That’s business.”
“They were friends!” she yells, dropping all of her previous hesitation, as volatile as her aunt. “Friends don’t do that! They stabbed my aunt in the back! Stole this when she needed it the most! We’ve been looking for this. My brother even broke into your house after your grandmother died, but he couldn’t find it.”
“Don’t you see? That’s why they hid it in that wall. They felt guilty about what they did to my aunt. You carry that. Let’s go.”
I carry the boxes out of the vault, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. Sure enough, our escort is waiting for us, and asks us to sign out the property. Gallantly, he offers to help, but Amy grabs some of the boxes and tells him we’re good. Without batting an eyelash, he escorts us to an office.
My heart sinks at the paperwork he hands me, but I begin signing, not bothering to read what I’m putting my name into. I am still doing so when a man’s voice greets me.
“Ah, Ms. Sorensen. Withdrawing the coins, already? I take it you are leaving for England?”
“Mr. Venkateshwar! Yes. Ermm... my flight leaves tonight.”
Beside him is another man dressed in an almost identical black suit. He smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes.
“But surely you’re not going to take those on the plane with you? Think of the security concerns.”
Beside me, Amy squirms.
“Ah, and you are?” the Indian gentleman turns to her with a polite smile and his hand held out.
“Amy,” she replies, her voice suddenly cracking before she manages to clear her throat as she stretches a hand to take his.
“Ah. Mr. Chase’s assistant?” Mr. Venkateshwar replies as he takes her hand.
Quick as a flash, the man standing beside him cuffs Amy’s wrist. I stare in shock at it, and all pandemonium breaks loose as Amy reaches into her pocket. With blinding speed, the silent man does something and the phone falls across the floor, then a security officer walks in to help restrain the struggling, screaming woman.
“I apologize, Ms. Sorensen,” Mr. Venkateshwar continues smoothly, ignoring the hysterical assistant. “A man called your lawyer asking about you, claiming that your things were still at your house. Mr. Chase tried calling you, but your phone was still in your house. Then he called some of your neighbors, one of whom reported seeing you leave with her,” he gestures at Amy who’s still struggling uselessly.
“She’s with someone else! An Andy Matthews. If she doesn’t reach him, he’s going to hurt some friends of mine!”
***
The car pulls up into a middle class, working neighborhood. In it are a middle-aged man and an elderly woman.
“I don’t like this,” Andy says to Mrs. Abramovitz.
“The Sorensens screwed us once. I’m not letting them get away with it again. If you won’t do it, then I will.”
With a sigh, he gets out of the car, and passes a mailbox with the name ‘Aguillar’ painted on it in bright blue. In his pocket is a gun. He jumps the picket fence to the backyard, landing on the grass just as the sound of sirens pulls up behind him.
