RESCUE MAN, page 9
My watch showed it to be a frog whisker past nine-thirty. “Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer? The party’s just getting started,” I said, already knowing the response she’d give.
“Heaven’s no. You know your father likes to be in bed by eleven, and he catches the late news before that. It’s been a delightful evening, Tojo. You’ve outdone yourself on this your first social gathering,” she added, embellishing her comment with her warm smile.
“She’s right, Son. We’ll leave you young folks to carry on. We’d be a wet blanket if we stayed any longer. Oh, and take good care of that bourbon. I’ll be along for a snort or two down the road,” said Dad, a sly grin spreading across his craggy face.
“All right, if you say so. I’ll come by tomorrow with your Nabe pot and some leftovers, Mom.”
“Bring the pot but keep the leftovers. It’ll reassure me that you aren’t in danger of starving,” she said, adding her motherly smile I knew so well.
Everyone got up from the table and walked Mom and Dad to the door. We took turns hugging and pecking. When my turn came, Mom whispered in my ear. “You remember to treat her right, Tojo.” I understood what she meant. I was pleased when Mom bestowed a peck on Lisa, which Lisa returned. I held the door open, and Mom and Dad were on their way. The three of us returned to the table, Kim taking Mom’s chair. I had Lisa on my left and Kim on my right. We formed an isosceles triangle.
Kim spoke first. “I had no idea that you two suffered from such dreadful nightmares. If it was me, I don’t know how I could handle it.”
Lisa said, “If it wasn’t for Joe’s intervention that offered me a way to get a handle on my flashbacks, I’d more than likely be snowed by drugs as a way to cope.”
“That would be a terrible way to have to go through life,” said Kim.
“That’s true, but I’d guess that close to a quarter of the people in my group opt for drugs as a solution to their issues. Problem is, once they opt for drugs, they’re giving up on leading normal lives again,” said Lisa. I nodded in agreement.
“So, tell me, Joe. What do you do to weaken your nightmares, your flashbacks? I know we both share an incredible memory, so anything that happens to you will be in your memory, for better or for worse,” said Kim.
I picked up the wine bottle and poured a healthy dollop into each of our glasses. No objections were raised. “It’ll be easier for you to understand, Kim, since you have the same kind of memory. Think about what you do when something happens to you that you’d just as soon forget. If you’re like me, you build a wall around the ugly memory in your head, so it doesn’t keep popping up, it isn’t so accessible. I tried that with my nightmares, but they were much stronger than a simple wall could block. So I went on the offensive, building defenses that my nightmare had to face to get through to me. Some of them worked and some were failures. With each defeat, though, I learned something, and my next defenses were more effective. I’m to the point now where I get through most nights with minimal nightmares. It’s a constant fight, and I think I’m winning. The alternative, a life snowed by drugs, is nothing I’d care to live with,” I said.
“You two are an inspiration,” said Kim. She picked up her wine glass, saluted Lisa and me and downed the pale liquid in a single gulp. She set her glass down, pushed back in her chair, and stood up.
“Where are you going?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“It’s time for me to make tracks to my own digs,” she said. I told my roomie I’d be home by ten, which is no longer possible. It’s been great fun spending time with you, Joe, and it’s a pleasure meeting you, Lisa.” We hugged and pecked, and then she and Lisa hugged and pecked. A warm expression of acceptance. Lisa was no longer a stranger to my family. Something about that made me feel good, not sure why.
When I closed the door on the departing Kim, Lisa said, “I should be going, too.”
“You have wine to finish,” I said.
“Oh, all right. Then I should go.”
We returned to the table, and I turned my chair sideways, facing her.
She stared into my eyes a moment. “I’m not sure I’ve figured you out, Joe. First, I saw you as you stood in front of a room of strangers and talked to us about PTSD, your PTSD, and how you were getting a handle on it. You overflowed with confidence, which spilled over into the whole room. You seemed a little cocky, even.”
“Now I’ve seen you interact with your family. When your mother joked that she, we couldn’t figure you out, you told her you were open to suggestions. She said she wasn’t offering you any, that you’d come up with something on your own. You as much as said that you were still working things out. So, which of these two people is the real Joe Roberts?” she asked, a quizzical expression on her cherubic face.
I thought a moment and said, “I’m both of those people. I spoke with confidence and conviction to you and the others at the VA, and I let Mom and Kim and you know that I’m still struggling with my future. The thing that complicates it is my diamonds and gold.”
“What?”
I realized that I hadn’t told Lisa of my newfound wealth brought back from Iraq. I summed it up for her. At that time, I had no idea of the total value, only that it was a tidy sum.
“That explains a lot, Joe. I don’t know what I’d do if I came into that kind of a windfall.”
“In some ways I think that I don’t deserve it, that I should give it to charity, but in other ways I think it came to me for a reason and I should use it to bring good to my corner of the world.”
Lisa drained her wine glass and set it on the table. “You’ve helped me know you better, Joe. It explains the conflict and indecision you showed earlier. And on that note, I really must go.” She got to her feet and headed for the door, me following at her side, unsure what, if anything, I should do. My Mom’s guiding words echoed in my head. You tread lightly with her, you hear me, Tojo?
As I reached for the door handle, Lisa stepped in front of me and cupped my face with her hands, drawing my face down to hers. Our lips met, the electric current flowed between us, and she kissed me, gently at first, and more enthusiastically as she continued. I responded with equal enthusiasm. When I had thoughts of picking her up and carrying her off to the bedroom she stepped back, her eyes closed and said, “This is a test. Lisa is conducting a test of her feelings for Joe Roberts. This is only a test.” It was the sweetest public service announcement I’d ever heard.
She opened her eyes, said “Good night, Joe,” and was out the door before I could think of something to say. I stood there a moment, wondering if I’d imagined the whole scene. Recalling the current that flowed into me when her lips pressed against mine, I knew it had been real. Lisa was one high-voltage lady.
Nine
My cell phone’s ringtone woke me in the morning. I marveled at the fact that my T-shirt was dry as I reached to answer it. Another small victory over my nightmare. My phone face told me two things. It was eight o’clock, the latest I’d slept in a long time, and the call was from the Roberts’ residence.
“Good morning,” I said into the phone, my voice betraying my emergence from sleep.
“Good morning, Tojo. Are you alone?” It was Mom.
“Yes, Mom. Quite alone. Lisa left a short time after Kim did,” I said.
“That’s good, Tojo. You’re good to respect boundaries with Lisa at this time of her life.”
“I’m a good little martyr, Mom.” I brushed my index finger across my lips, recalling Lisa’s departing test. I wondered idly what score she gave me. Hell, I figured that if I’d failed it, I was ready to take the test again. Practice makes perfect, right?
“Yes, well, you stay being a good little martyr, Tojo. In Lisa’s fragile condition there’s no telling how gullible she might be, and then she has to live with it forever after,” pronounced my dear Mom.
“I hear you, Mom. I’ve always respected other people’s boundaries.” To the point of missing out on some great moments, no doubt.
“Now, on another subject. Kimiko and I looked over all the jewelry designs that you gave us, and we both agreed on the same one. It’s on page one, the second line, the one in the middle. It’s a simple cross and we both thought it was a perfect fit for us. And here’s something to log away in your memory. Lisa watched us as we went through the choices, and when we both chose that design, she wrapped her arms around both of us and said it was a perfect choice. If things work out between the two of you, it might make a nice gift for her.”
“And then you can be a threesome,” I said.
“That would be nice, Tojo. Both Kimiko and I agree that Lisa is a charming young lady.”
“Thanks for all that, Mom. I’ll go see the jeweler and get your pendants ordered.”
“You’re a sweet boy, Tojo.”
“I’m twenty-four years old, Mom. I’m no longer a boy,” I said.
“No matter how old you get, Tojo, you’ll always be my sweet boy,” she said sweetly.
I knew there was no changing her mind. It was made up. Truth be told, it was made up years ago.
I shaved, dressed, downed a bowl of cereal and headed for Whiteman’s jewelry store. He brought out his copy of the sketches, I pointed to the design Mom and Kim had chosen, he smiled and said my mom and sister had excellent taste and he’d get right on it. I asked him if I could get a discount if he made three of them and he assured me that I could since he would be using the same mold to cast all three settings.
“Then three it is,” I said, making a sweeping gesture with my hand. I considered for a moment if I would ever give the third cross to Lisa.
As I was turning to leave, a thought occurred to me. I had no idea how much all the diamonds locked away in my safety deposit box were worth. If I was going to use the diamonds to guide my life, do something worthwhile, I needed to know what I had for resources. If I had a number to go on, I could budget my expenses and make my wealth last longer, maybe even into my retirement years. I turned back to Mr. Whiteman and asked him if he would assess all my diamonds, not just the ones he’d already handled.
“That’s what I’m in business for, Mister Roberts. And you must call me Harold from now on,” he said, his smile warming the edges of his round face.
“Harold it is, and I’m Tojo, but everyone but Mom calls me Joe,” I said, smiling at the thought.
“A pleasure, Joe,” said Harold, extending his chubby hand. His grip was firm. Jeweler’s hands are busy hands.
“I’ll bring you a pouch at a time so you can keep track of all of them,” I said.
“It sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me,” said Harold, his warm smile overspreading his cherubic face.
“I’d say you do. When you’re finished, I’ll have a much better idea how much I have. It will help me plan my philanthropic work.”
“That sounds interesting. What do you plan to do?”
“I’m not sure yet. Whatever it is, I think I should be giving back to the less fortunate out there for the wealth of diamonds that came my way,” I said.
“There’s that man on a TV show who goes around finding people who are in a jam and fixing things for them, As I recall, he calls himself the Equalizer. Is that what you mean?” asked Harold.
I thought of Lisa. I’d agreed to help her get even with the man who raped her. It fit the image Harold described. Joe Roberts the Equalizer. Somehow it didn’t fit the picture I was trying to develop. “I don’t think so, Harold, but who knows?”
I left Harold with the task of creating the three pendants for the women in my life and made a trip to my bank and my safety deposit box. I took out a pouch of the large diamonds, might as well start with the big boys, and dropped it off with Harold. He was in the back preparing his molds when I came in. The acrid odor of molten metal, presumably gold, reached my nostrils.
“I’ll be out in a minute, Joe. Thanks for your patience.”
“No problem, Harold. Take your time.”
He walked through the curtain a short time later, his face moist with perspiration. “I’ve finished one of the settings, Joe. The next two will go easier.” He patted his face with a snow-white handkerchief he took from a back pocket.
“I brought a pouch of stones for you to appraise,” I said, holding it out to him.
“Ah, yes. I’ll get to them as soon as I finish the other two castings,” he said while taking the zipper pouch from me. He turned and carried it behind the curtained doorway, and I heard him open and close a safe. I appreciated his security. It wouldn’t do to have a thief stroll in and walk off with the pouch.
“Thanks, Harold!” I called out to him. “See you in a couple days.”
“That will be perfect, Joe. See you then!” he called back to me.
I left his store, my thoughts occupied with the challenge of what to do with my wealth.
When I woke up the next morning my T-shirt was damp, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember having a visit from my nightmare. Progress.
As I lay there in bed, reviewing my night’s sleep, it struck me that I’d already set a course for my life’s plan. My new-found wealth could be used to bring happiness to others, and to me as well. I’d already experienced the pleasure it gave me when I bought a new car for my parents, and I anticipated the pleasure ahead when I presented Mom and Kim with their pendants. As for Lisa and her plan to even the score with the ogre who raped her, I needed to work on that. I figured that the outcome should please me as much as it pleased Lisa. I had no problem helping her, but I knew I needed to feel good, not guilty about the outcome. One nasty nightmare is more than enough, thank you. The time had come for a planning session with Lisa. I also wanted to find out what she had to say about the test she conducted. Who knows? Maybe I failed it. That would set me back a few notches. Not a pleasant thought.
I climbed out of bed and performed my morning ablutions, nicking my chin slightly when I overdid trying to shave the whiskers from the cleft in my chin. Dressed, I brewed coffee and toasted a bagel, slathering it with jalapeno cream cheese. My day was off to a spicy start. Yum.
With my second cup of coffee poured, I checked the time. It was a decent gap past eight. I hoped Lisa was up and around as I tapped in her contact number. She picked up on the third ringy-dingy, leaving me to wonder if I’d shaken her from slumber. My fears were dispelled when she spoke.
“Lisa’s upholstery. How may I help you?”
If her phone was anything like mine, caller ID would have told her it was me. Should I be thinking uh oh? “Hey, Lisa. It’s me, Joe,” I said, guessing, no hoping that she hadn’t seen it was me calling.
Hi, Joe. What took you so long?”
Confusion reigned. “What do you mean?”
“I thought you might be curious about how my little test came out,” she said. There was an unmistakable tease in her voice.
Time to play it cool. “Oh, that? I thought I should give you time to reach a decision. I half expected you to call me with the results,” I said. I found it difficult to speak clearly with my tongue tucked solidly in my cheek.
“If it’s not about my test, what prompted you to call me?” she asked, cutting to the chase.
“I think it’s time we sat down and planned our trip to Schenectady.”
Lisa was silent a moment. “Oh. Yes. We should do that,” she said. I thought I could hear her wheels grinding through the phone.
“What’s your schedule look like?” I asked.
“The only thing on my horizon is tomorrow’s PTSD meeting at the VA,” she said.
Thanks for the reminder, Lisa! “Right. An afternoon meeting,” I said.
“Rescheduled so more PTSD clients can attend,” she said.
Rescheduled by Larry so I can reach out to more of them. “I’ll be there,” I said, thinking how dumb that sounded when the words tumbled out.
“You’ll be speaking to the group, won’t you?”
“Uh huh. Larry thinks my message can be helpful.”
“I know from personal experience that he’s right,” said Lisa, no bull coming through in her voice.
“I appreciate your vote of confidence.”
“So, if it works for you, I’ll have you come to my apartment after. We can talk about Schenectady, and I’ll make dinner for us,” said Lisa.
“It works for me. See you at tomorrow’s meeting.”
“Great. See you there. Oh, by the way, you passed the test. Barely,” said Lisa.
“Barely?”
“I’ll explain the test results when I see you tomorrow, Joe.” She disconnected, ending the conversation.
I stood there a moment, transfixed by Lisa’s comment. Then I shook my head to shed the questions bubbling up and focused my attention on my talk at the VA tomorrow. I considered where I sat in my own recovery. It compared favorably to a roller coaster ride, with both highs and lows. My nightmare turned out to be a quick learner. The defenses I put up worked well the first night, but often fell under my nightmare’s onslaught the next night. To keep one step ahead of it I needed to shift the defenses I built in my mind every night. If I got careless and skipped a night, I paid for it with a wet T-shirt and a mostly sleepless night. The horrors of that night in Iraq came back at me night after night when I closed my eyes to sleep.
The trilling of my phone brought me back to the here and now. I thought it might be Lisa, calling back with more information about her test. I was wrong. It was Harold Whiteman, my caller ID told me.
“Hey, Harold. How’s it going?” I asked into the phone.
“It’s, ah, going fine, Joe. I’d like you to come to my store so we can talk about the items you brought to me,” he said, his voice charged with mystery.
Now what? “Is everything all right?” I asked him.
“Yes, of course. I just have a few questions for you before we go further,” said Harold.
More mystery. “Okay, Harold. I’ll be there within the hour.”
“Perfect, Joe. See you soon.” Harold ended the call.
