Chapter 29: 1998

You can’t invent stuff like this. Today was August 15th, the anniversary of my arrest for murder-two in 1966. It’s 1998 now, but as life changing as the original August 15th was, this one looked to be turning out to be its equal. I got the visit.

“Chase,” said Rein, who had just interrupted me on the job, “she’s out. William is picking her up. You will be meeting her in maybe an hour’s time.” I stared at him.

“Really?” I felt like a freshman in high school saying what I said.

“Yes, really. It’s only 10:00 a.m. can you get someone to cover for you for today?” he said.

“Lindsey will be here at noon.”

“Okay, I’ll have William take her to the Blue Star for an early before lunch snack. You can join them there at 12:15. I mean if that’s good for you.”

“Of course it is!” I said. “Rein...?”

“Chase?”

“Can I ask? How does she look? I was ashamed of myself asking the question. Who was I to ask how a woman looked, especially a loser like me.” Rein grinned.

“She looks nice Chase, she does.” I nodded. I think he knew that I was ashamed of myself for asking.

Over the next two hours I was a nervous wreck. I hated allowing the rich guy to get me a woman, one custom ordered from the factory so to speak. But I was also grateful to him. I was just too damn hard up and lonely, and I couldn’t do it anymore. It was clear to me, when I was in prison, that when inmates committed suicide it was often due to loneliness. Oh yes it was. And I was, and had been, getting to that point myself. I hadn’t been intimate with a woman in thirty-two years, not since Valerie and I ... and well, it’d been getting really bad—again.

“Of course, Chase, but you owe me,” said Lindsey. “Anyway, it’s Saturday, I’ll call in Joseph to help out; he needs the money.”

“Thanks a million,” I said.

I usually walked to work, but today for some reason, really no reason, I’d driven. My ‘94 Buick, made the trip in five minutes flat, including the stop at the light that seemed to be the eternal light.

Finally at the Blue Star, I parked and sat in my car for a long moment. It was a moment of truth. I wasn’t concerned about how she looked; I was concerned about how I would look to her: graying hair, way too thin, and getting wrinkles around my eyes and neck; well, I was fifty-eight.

I entered the posh establishment. A female attendant approached me and asked if I wanted a table or a booth.

“I think my friends are already here.”

“Are you Mister Benedict?” she said.

“Yes.” She smiled.

“Follow me.” I did so.

We came up to the booth and I looked across the table to see a middle-aged woman looking down. William stood and was half smiling.

“Chase Benedict, I would like to introduce you to Sarah Bonaparte, uh, no relationship to the famed Napoleon.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss...”

“Sarah, please,” she said, looking up and seeming very uncomfortable. But her tone was the right tone.

“Yes, Sarah it is then.” William motioned me to have a seat.

William was across from me on the other aisle seat. Sarah was in the middle halfway around the semi-circular booth. Some innocuous conversation went on over the next minutes related to what we each wanted to order, which we did; the weather, which was typically insanely hot; well, it was August in the desert; and that Sarah would be residing at a local hotel for the next few days as a reasonable cautionary measure. After that it would be up to us to decide what to do going forward.

The food came, we ate, and finally Will made his timely escape. He would doubtless be reporting to the Cooper enclave forthwith.

And then we were alone: Sarah Bonaparte and me. We had coffees in front of us.

“So,” I said, “you literally escaped just hours ago from Perryville.”

“Yes. mister Golding, I mean William, picked me up at 8:00 this morning. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. We had breakfast, got me a room as the Hyatt Hotel; and well, now we’re here,” she said.

“Yes, and I know you’ve heard about me some. I mean I was inside for twenty-five years, second degree. Been out for seven years now.”

“Yes. And I know you’ve heard about me too. In for thirty years, first degree, out now for going on six hours,” she said. I kind of snorted.

“So, now I guess we figure out how we go forward in this weirdest of weird situations,” I said.

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s Chase, please. I mean we have known each other for a good two hours.”

“Yes, good, Chase then it is. Now I guess we kinda get to the main thing.” she started.

“Yes, the main thing: if you like me, well, we’re supposed to become an item. Just us being together this last while, I can tell you I do feel good about things,” I said.

“Yes, and me too. But...”

“But?”

“Chase, I don’t know if you’re going to want me for long. I mean I don’t know how to be free anymore. The loneliness, the despair. Frankly, Mister, I’ve considered offing myself. But now, now that I’m out, I don’t know how to act. I really don’t; I have no one. What’s left of my ex-familia doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. So, as far as relationships go, a guy I’ve known for a couple of hours is pretty much it.”

“My situation is more complicated, and you’ll get the whole story over time, but well, if you give me a chance, I think we can make this work.”

“Give you a chance? The way I see it, it’s kind of the other way ‘round.”

“Wanna go for a walk? There’s a park across the way.”

“Okay, sure.”

We went to my favorite decompression zone, the pond at Blue Star Park. I introduced her to my ducks; she thought that that was funny, and she did laugh a little. She’d clearly noted my wobbly gait, but didn’t comment.

Mister Cooper’s gambit was looking to be a good bet. And what the hell, in Europe arranged relationships were still fairly common. All we lacked was a chaperone for the maiden.

“Sarah had the next days, Wednesday through Sunday free. She was staying at the Hyatt and trying to get used to being out amongst ‘em. We did meet each day for breakfast and planned the rest of the day. But I did still have to work, so she spent some of the time at the Javelina. And to be clear she had not yet formally met any of the “family” or friends though we did talk some about them, especially the latter.

The good news as far as I was concerned was the fact that the “family” and friends were leaving us alone and letting us get to know each other. I was certain that Rein had us under surveillance, but as for that, I was guessing. Two weeks passed.

“It was now September 6th, a Sunday. Sarah’d been staying in the spare bedroom at my place at the Saguaro since her ticket at the Hyatt had run out a week and a half earlier. And no, nothing romantic had so far been attempted by me. Grocery shopping, eating out, eating in, togetherness at the park, and a lot of talking was pretty much it. And now it was getting to the point of having to mix it up with all of the usual suspects: The Coopers the Cartons the Lutzes and a few others adjunct to the foregoing. Then it was Monday.

I did what I had rarely done; I called the big man. He came to the Javelina while I was working. Sarah was at the apartment doing housework of all damn things; well, it seemed kinda odd to me; but she maintained it made her feel normal to be doing it, so who was I to complain.

Herbert Cooper plopped down on a stool at the bar. “A tap,” he said. I got it for him.

“So,” I said, “I guess it’s time for her to meet with some of the family and friends.”