The Trouble with Rescuing Zoe



  The Trouble with Rescuing Zoe

  By Eric Schneider

  Copyright 2013 Eric Schneider

  Acknowledgements

  I want to thank Cheryl Morris and Jeannie Campbell for their services and attention to detail in helping to bring forth this story, as well as my friends who read and shared their thoughts as it developed: Dan, Carey, Tom, Dave, Christine, Silvia and Margee.

  Chapter 1

  Carol Smith’s kitchen fan had stopped working, so after she flipped the bacon, she cracked the window open. She noticed a taxi moving up the street and scratched her head, unable to remember the last time she’d seen one on the block. Lunch was almost ready.

  She wiped clean the knife she had been using and laid it on the countertop. About to step away, she glanced back at the knife. “Okay Harry,” she said in the empty room, and turned to put it away. “Things belong in their proper place.” I know, she thought, having stated the words she would otherwise have expected from her husband.

  While setting herself a plate, she looked out the window again. The taxi had stopped in front and a woman was getting out.

  Who would be visiting old Cramer? She wondered. Having slipped herself crossing the street, she hoped the woman could navigate the newly fallen snow. Carol sat down, picking up her church newsletter in one hand, her sandwich in the other. Harry’s article led. She smiled as she imagined hearing his passionate voice in each word.

  A knock at the door caused her to jump. It was the woman from the cab.

  “I have something that I need to talk to you about. It’s important. Could I have a minute?”

  Carol stood in the doorway and took measure of the stranger: dark hair with a little grey, a long fur coat, matching gloves and elegant earrings; quite out of place in this modest neighborhood. Carol brushed her fingers through her own graying hair.

  “If you’re here to see my husband, he’s at work.”

  It was apparent in the delay responding that the woman hadn’t expected this question. “No, I’m here to see you. You’re Carol, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am.” Carol paused, still cautious but curious about the stranger. “Well come in, it’s cold.”

  The woman entered. She could have stepped off a page from a fashion magazine—a beautiful full-length blue dress with a necklace, high heels and Carol smelled a delicate perfume.

  “I’m Samantha, but you can call me Sam. I’m terribly sorry to interrupt you, but it was imperative that we speak.”

  Sam handed Carol her coat. For a moment Carol was not sure how to respond, but took a deep breath and invited Sam to join her in the kitchen.

  “Are you from here?” Carol knew she wasn’t.

  “I’m from New York. I got in a few days ago, but it isn’t my first trip to Colorado. Though, I will say Grand Junction is a bit out of the way.”

  The woman sat down. “Smells good.”

  “Are you hungry? I can easily make another.”

  “Could you. I would be grateful. I’ve been running around all morning trying to locate you.”

  “Me?” Carol put water in the coffee maker and prepared another sandwich.

  “Yes.”

  Out the window, she noticed the taxi was still waiting.

  Sam raised her arm, pointing at the taxi. “No worry, I asked him to wait.”

  The rock on her finger caught some light and its sparkle drew Carol’s eye. This is no ordinary woman, she thought.

  Sam looked around. “Your kitchen is immaculate.”

  Carol smiled and sat patiently, but was dying to ask her what she wanted.

  “Do you mind if I say grace?” asked Sam.

  “Of course not, my Harry is a part-time minister. I’ll join you.”

  “I too lived with a quite religious man,” said Sam, nodding her head. She took a bite of her sandwich and cracked a smile. “Sometimes a little too intense though.”

  Carol laughed. “Yes, this house also has its passion.”

  “I imagine you are wondering why I’m here. Well, I found something that concerns you.” Sam let out a breath and looked away. “It was in the trash.”

  At that point, the coffeemaker beeped and Carol poured two cups.

  “In the trash?”

  Sam lowered her eyes and her voice cracked. “Yes, in the trash.”

  What’s she talking about, Carol wondered. But as Sam continued, Carol’s face went blank and her jaw dropped. She reached for the coffeepot with a nervous, shake, almost pouring herself a second cup, in one already full.

  “I have it here.”

  Sam opened her purse and placed the “it” on the table. Carol herself had never used one, but she knew what it was.

  In all, they talked for an hour. When Sam left, she handed Carol a piece of paper on which a name and phone number were written.

  “This is your one chance.” Sam then walked out the door.

  “Tomorrow morning?” Carol called out as Sam walked to the taxi.

  “Yes. 11am.”

  Carol shut the door and slumped back into her chair.

  “What to do?” she said to herself. Starting to pace, she eventually walked into the living room. There she stopped before her husband’s prized Browning rifle. She stared at it through the glass case. Then, an idea occurred to her.

  A quick call and she booked a flight the next day for her husband, departing in the morning at the time Sam had said. Carol then packed a few essentials, after which she sat and thought. She wrote her own note and placed it, along with the one Sam had given her, in an envelope.

  #

  Carol heard the door open at the usual time.

  “Hi. What’s for dinner?”

  “First, where’s my hug?”

  Harry squeezed her, lifting her feet off the floor.

  “I had a tough day.”

  “What happened?”

  “They issued me a smart phone. Didn’t know how to answer.”

  “There’s no button?”

  “You slide your finger across the screen. I hate technology.”

  “Honey, it’s Friday. I have a surprise for you.”

  Harry smiled.

  “You know you’ve wanted to go to the gun show in Denver. It’s this weekend. I booked you a flight.”

  Harry’s face tensed up.

  “Used my frequent flyer miles.”

  He smiled a broad smile. “Really?”

  “You leave tomorrow morning. I’ve already packed.”

  “You’re fantastic.”

  Carol didn’t let on about the visitor. It seemed there was no point in getting wet before you’re in the swimming pool.

  The following morning, after they ate, Harry disappeared and returned with his gun case.

  “You’re not thinking of selling it?”

  “You know we need the money. We’ve talked about this. It could fetch a good price. It’s a limited edition.” Harry couldn’t actually look at the gun as he spoke.

  Carol, however, looked and let out a sigh.

  “Harry, I found you somewhere to stay. Somewhere cheaper than a cheap motel. And they’ll pick you up.”

  “Where?”

  “A friend of a friend.” Carol handed him the envelope. “Their name and instructions are in here. We gotta go. Just read it when you arrive.”

  Harry tucked it in the gun case.

  Carol drove, so she could just drop him off.

  “Now Harry, I need you to keep that fire and brimstone at bay. You know, no one can hear what you’re saying when the volume is too loud.”

  He cringed. “Are you talking about Mark again?”

  “Your boy will come back. Just give him time. But I was talking in general. You never
know who you’ll run into.” She pulled up in front of the airport. “People need to hear what you have to say, but please, finesse.”

  She could see that her lion was about to roar and cut him off with a kiss.

  “Don’t miss your flight.”

  Harry waited. He always does. She leaned over for that one last long embrace.

  #

  Harry clutched his coat against the cold wind as he hefted his Browning in its outsized gun case across the airport tarmac. It would be hard to see her go, but the money she should bring in at the gun show would be worth it.

  Harry found Scott Gordon, a commuter pilot and one of Harry’s oldest friends near the hanger fueling his plane—the smell of escaped vapors was in the air.

  “Hey old timer. How’s it going?”

  Scott glanced up from his task. “Hi Harry. Long time no see.” His gaze dipped down to take in Harry’s gun case. “And look at what you’ve got. Cargo bay’s full, so if you don’t mind, squeeze that baby of yours between the seats.” He gave Harry a wry smile. “It’ll be closer to you at least.”

  Good friends, they had grown up together.

  The wind, strong and wild continued to dance across the tarmac. Scott glanced up at the dark clouds forming around the mountains.

  "Looks like we'll be flying into rough weather." Scott capped off the plane.

  Harry tipped his head back as well. He must have sported a skeptical look on his face, because Scott started chuckling.

  "Don't worry. I'll be using my new glass cockpit." Scott gave a loving tap to the side of his airplane.

  "Looks beautiful." Harry peered inside to get a better look. "Do you trust it? Hate technology myself. Too damn complicated." He started to pace back and forth. On the second lap, he glanced at the cockpit and then looked directly at Scott.

  Harry grinned and again looked through the window at the cockpit.

  “Did you know I’m now the only licensed A&P mechanic at the airport?” Scott’s chest puffed out. “That means I’m allowed to do my own installation and FAA paperwork.”

  Harry wished Scott hadn’t continued talking. His heartbeat had shot up. Scott always does this.

  Scott cleared his throat. "You’re funny. It’s been up a dozen times, including the flights getting it recertified. Don't worry." Harry adjusted his grip on the case which caught Scott’s attention. "Hey, that’s your prized gun."

  Harry lifted his case and nodded. "Yep. It's my best. It's a companion of sorts."

  The two men climbed into the sleek, zipped up plane. Scott took his seat at the controls and Harry sat behind him. It took Scott a moment to fight against the wind and pull the door shut.

  The sudden quiet inside was at odds with the snow blowing hard enough to briefly obscure the surroundings. Scott tuned in the weather channel, picking up the tail end of a winter storm advisory. He fired up the engine to warm it up and began his preflight check.

  Harry rested his hand on the gun case, a gesture which subconsciously comforted him. “I’m going to the gun show. It’s therapeutic,” Harry smiled. “While I’m there, gonna see what I can fetch for it. We could use the money.”

  Scott froze. “You’re not thinking of selling it? If you can part with your baby, what will your wife think?” He grinned at Harry. “She might feel a bit insecure.”

  Harry didn’t respond immediately. Scott was joking, of course, but selling the Browning was a solemn occasion. He collected his thoughts.

  “For the last some-odd years, I just haven’t needed it. This second time around being married I realized I can’t disappear on these long hunting trips anymore.” He allowed his mouth to lift in a half-hearted smile that probably looked more like a grimace. “I’m just busy, haven’t been using it.”

  Scott consulted an instrument on his display.

  Harry didn’t want to revisit this and his eyes wandered looking for some other subject. He glanced behind at the empty seats. “Just us today?”

  “Looks that way.”

  Finished with the pre-flight check, Scott revved the engine. The plane lurched and Scott maneuvered toward the runway.

  Harry kept his gaze fixed outside the window as Scott talked. He’d been through a lot of close calls and desperate moments with his gun, and the thought of selling his Browning Lighting BLR 30-06 made him slouch in his seat.

  “Tell you what Harry, you need to get out someday, you borrow my 300 Weatherby. Great bolt-action.” Scott let go of the controls and went through the motions of lifting and pulling back the bolt, loading it and firing.

  “I know. Beautiful,” said Harry.

  He was absentmindedly patting the case again in remembrance when he caught sight of a figure moving in the distance. “Wait. Someone’s coming.”

  Scott killed the engine. Through the falling snow, they watched someone hurrying toward the plane. A blurb on the radio called out that they had another passenger.

  A young woman bundled in a colorful coat and hat approached the door. She had an elegant face. Her long blonde hair flowed out from under her hat, waving in the wind. She was out of breath, but when Scott opened the door for her, she introduced herself with a beaming and cheerful smile.

  “You fellows heading my way?”

  Harry sat up straighter as introductions were made. The young lady introduced herself as Zoe Sastre. She sat beside him in the second passenger seat, careful not to step on his case, which upped her in his estimation.

  “Guess we’re set now.” Scott turned back around in his seat. “Oops.”

  Scott’s comment took Harry’s attention to the cockpit. He noticed a flickering light. Scott ducked down under the panel and made an adjustment to stop it.

  At Zoe’s raised eyebrow, Scott laughed. “No worry.” He pushed the throttle and the plane advanced onto the runway.

  The radio blared to life, clearing them for takeoff. Harry looked out as they climbed higher and higher, clearing the mountains. At a gentle prod to his arm, he shifted his attention back to Zoe.

  “Is that your gun case down here? It’s huge.”

  Scott took a moment from his piloting to glance over his shoulder. “Harry was the top outdoorsman in the area. He’s taken groups into the wilderness for months at a time.”

  Zoe’s eyebrows rose. “Really. You’re a real man. I bet you don't call out for pizza when you’re hungry.”

  That made Harry laugh. “Nope. There's no pizza delivery down there.” At Zoe’s smile, he felt comfortable asking a question of his own. “So, are you a college student?”

  “Yes. Well, no. I just graduated, but I’m going on to post-graduate work.”

  Harry shifted to face her more. “Are you studying to be a nurse?”

  She cocked her head. “I’m curious, why do you think I'd be studying nursing?”

  Harry shrugged. “You seem the type. I have a daughter about your age. She’s studying nursing at the college. My wife Carol’s a nurse too. Guess that’s just what popped into my head.”

  “Actually, I'm studying to be a doctor.”

  “A doctor.” He nodded his head. “That's impressive.”

  “I love it. Plan to do research.”

  Scott spoke over his shoulder. “Where’re you going to study now?”

  “I’ve got a scholarship at Harvard. Start next fall. Going to be a big change.”

  Were her shoulders sagging? “You sound a little down.”

  “It's complicated.”

  “Now you sound like my son.”

  She smiled again. “How many kids do you have?”

  He held up three fingers. “A son and two daughters. All complicated. When I first got married I thought my wife was complicated. Then we had kids. I have had days where my complications got so complicated, and all my efforts to un-complicate things, well, they just became another complication. Eventually I had to head out into the mountains and find my cave.” He laughed at himself. “But you survive.”

  “I do wonder about this whole marr
iage thing.” Zoe picked at the fringe of her scarf. “That's why I’m focusing on my career.”

  “Awe…come on. It's not so bad.”

  Scott bobbed his head in front of them. “It’s a journey. But you do wonder, sometimes. We all do.”

  “That's true,” Harry said. “One minute you’re up, next you’re down, but then you’re up again. Scott thinks of it all as chapters in a book.”

  Zoe looked out the window, away from Harry. “I think I'm more down right now. My boyfriend has been a real jerk.”

  Harry resisted the urge to pat her hand comfortingly. “Really, things work out. Trust me. I’m also one of the best jerks in the county.” He poked Scott’s back. “Right, Scott?”

  “Absolutely. Pam could have told you how many mistakes those two made. Remember the time you forgot her birthday?”

  “Shhh,” said Harry.

  Scott glanced back at Zoe. “But Pam kept trying, and Harry kept trying. That's sometimes what it takes.”

  Zoe drew her eyebrows together and questioned Harry. “Carol? Pam?”

  “Pam was my first wife. She was wonderful.”

  Inspired, Harry took a big breath.

  “If you know someone and haven’t had a big argument, or never inadvertently allowed one of your demons to emerge, if you haven’t had to repair damage that you caused, if you haven't needed to be forgiven, or you haven’t forgiven something that hurt, then the price of a cherished and meaningful relationship has not yet been paid.”

  “Wow. That’s a big thought—very poetic.”

  Harry lifted a shoulder. “I used it in a sermon. I’m also a minister.”

  “But it doesn't sound like the relationship was that wonderful, if that chapter ended in divorce. You have a new wife, right?”

  There was a long silence while Harry thought about how to respond. “There were certainly times when I argued with Pam, a lot.” He laughed. ”I think there were points when we even hated each other. It doesn't mean that there wasn't something much stronger underneath. We endured to see much better times. That chapter ended because she died.”

  Zoe’s face fell. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  He smiled at her to let her know there were no hard feelings. “It's okay. You’re young. Scott and I are old farts, but we know a thing or two. That boyfriend of yours, he may turn into a great husband. Then comes the kids, and as I said, it gets pretty complicated, but it’s worth it.”

  Instead of rekindling Zoe’s original disposition, she remained gloomy. He tried again. “It's all well worth it, particularly the kids.”