And so Chris Buckley lives life happily ever after …
I wish.
But I guess that life and all its surprises aren’t finished with me just yet.
I realize this the morning of January 1 when I receive a message through Facebook. From someone named Jeremiah Johnson. The name gets my attention simply because of Jeremiah Marsh. Is this a code name he’s using?
The message is short and to the point.
Take the Blue Line train and get off on Division. Go west about three blocks to a place called Bangers and Lace. Meet me there at midnight. Your mother’s life depends on it. Don’t tell your father or the girl.
My heart sinks.
Bangers and Lace. What kind of place is that?
It’s nine in the morning on January 1, and the madness and the mysteries start again.
I go to the guy’s Facebook page, and it shows a young Robert Redford. I guess Jeremiah Johnson is a character from one of his movies. I don’t friend the guy because—hey, social networks can be terrifying. Not in a Solitary way, of course, but …
Shut up, Chris.
I do as I’m told.
Meanwhile, I try to get hold of Mom. I try several times. Then I keep trying, all day long. She’s not at home, can’t be contacted on her cell, isn’t at work …
Naturally I’m thinking the worst, because the worst usually happens.
All I can do is do as I’m told.
I’m supposed to meet Jeremiah Johnson tonight?
It’s gotta be code for the pastor. Maybe it is him.
They have Mom and what?
Then what?
When I finally slip out of my father’s apartment, it’s a little after eleven. Kelsey is in the guest room while I’m sleeping in the living room, so it’s easy to go out. I go down the back stairway and out through a narrow alley. I leave the door to the apartment unlocked, as well as the gate.
As I walk down the sidewalk, I try not to think of the past day spent with Kelsey. We had a perfectly enjoyable day together, having lunch at a little Mexican restaurant and then taking a train to Covenant College, which is right in the heart of the downtown area. It was New Year’s Day, so she didn’t have any scheduled meetings or appointments or plans. She just wanted to soak in the campus and see if it felt right.
At one point she asked me what was wrong. I did my best to shrug it off and act like I was there. And I was there, as much as possible. But all along I knew that I had to meet with some stranger to discuss my mother.
I get off the L-train early and have some time to kill. I head down Division Street the wrong way, then realize that and backtrack. I arrive at the bar/restaurant called Bangers and Lace fifteen minutes before midnight.
As I approach, I see an open door and a crowd of people inside.
Then I spot a huge black dog sitting at attention. He’s on a leash and near the doorway of the pub.
It only takes me two seconds to recognize the dog.
It’s a black German shepherd.
The mountain man’s dog. The big guy with the trench coat and grubby hair who seems to come and go as he pleases.
I walk around the dog and quickly dart into the entryway, hoping to avoid being mauled to death. That would really stink, to die now after making it out of Solitary alive.
I stop and study the crowd talking and laughing and drinking.
“Chris.”
This isn’t the voice I imagined the mountain man would have.
“Over here.”
I guess I’m looking for someone big, because there right at the first table inside sitting on a barstool is an average-looking guy about my mom’s age who looks a lot like Uncle Robert.
“He’s big, but he won’t bite. Not unless I tell him to.”
I move closer to get a better view, and I see that it is indeed Uncle Robert.
Is he borrowing the dog? Or is this the dog’s twin brother? Or maybe he killed the mountain man and ended up inheriting the dog.
“Go on, have a seat,” he says as I walk up to the table.
Uncle Robert doesn’t give me a hug, and to be honest, I’m not sure if I’d accept it.
He’s got a nearly empty tall glass that I assume is a beer. His eyes are glassy, and he looks back to see if he can find a server. I sit down across from him.
Robert looks the same, just older. He’s got dark stubble on his face and his hair seems a bit thinner. Just like the rest of him. He doesn’t look like he’s taken a shower for a day or two, and his clothes are wrinkled and worn. He looks at me and just nods.
“I was fully intending to stay out of your business forever,” he says. “Just want to make that clear.”
“Do you know where my mom is?”
“No,” he says, looking into his empty glass. “Someone got to her.”
I have so many questions that I can’t even ask one of them.
“Yes, that’s my dog, and yes, that big redheaded guy you’ve seen several times was me.”
Say what?
“I just want to know,” he says, letting out a loud and humorous curse and shaking his head. “How many times do I have to save your butt?”
“What?”
“At one point I even wondered if you knew it was me, to be honest. When you went off chasing after Marsh with that knife, for a while I thought you might use it on yourself. In the woods. Remember?”
“The knife disappeared afterward.”
“Well, yeah. I thought you’d killed him.”
“You’ve been watching me this entire time?”
“As much as I could.”
A server comes and in a bubbly voice asks if we need something.
Yeah, I want to know about Mom, and Marsh, and Staunch, and Jocelyn, and the notes in my locker, and the gravesite in the woods, and the mysterious Marsh Falls, and Iris …
“Bring me another one of those—whatever I just had.”
The woman says a beer that sounds French.
What is it with French things in my life?
“Yeah, sure, sounds great.”
“Can I get you anything?” she asks me.
“Diet Coke?”
I want a beer like Uncle Robert.
“I’d give you a beer if I knew I wouldn’t get in trouble, but they’d card you.” Uncle Robert is serious.
“So all this time—you’ve been—wearing a costume?”
He shrugs. “You didn’t have a clue, did you? Staunch doesn’t know. That’s the biggest thing. I’m telling you, Chris—you have no idea how bad things are for you.”
“I think I know.”
“No, you don’t.” His attitude is less good-to-see-you-again-nephew and more you’re-in-deep-doodoo-Chris.
“I have an idea.”
“Yeah, maybe, but just an idea.”
“Where’s Iris?” I blurt out.
“I don’t know. Look—I’m not going to sit here and answer your questions ’cause that could go on all night. I came to tell you that you have to go back to Solitary and you have to go back tomorrow. Okay?”
“Mom was going to take us back.”
“Not anymore.”
“How do you know?”
“I know because she’s gone. She disappeared. And there’s only one person who could be responsible.”
“What are you talking about?”
Uncle Robert just looks at me.
“What? What happened to Mom?”
Others around us look my way but I don’t care.
Not Mom they can’t do that to her too.
Our drinks come, and Uncle Robert downs half of his before he decides to answer me.
“Is she hurt? Is she—”
I don’t even want to imagine, but of course I can and I do.
“I don’t know” is all he’ll say.
I want to burst out crying. Or wrap my hands around this guy’s throat.
The reality burns my stomach.
“Why have you been hiding all this time?” I ask.
“That’s my business.”
“So why show up and tell me this now?”
“Don’t get all annoyed with me. I’ve tried keeping you and your mother out of trouble.”
“Oh, thanks.” I’m angry now, now that I’ve been able to soak in the fact that Uncle Robert is alive and has known the hell we’ve been going through this last year.
“You don’t have a clue what I’ve been through,” he says.
“Looks like Mom and you have a lot in common.”
He curses at me and finishes his beer.
“So I’m supposed to go back and do what?”
“Do what they tell you to do.”
“For how long?” I ask. “The rest of my life?”
“Until I tell you what to do.”
“Oh, okay. Will it be my uncle telling me or the spooky mountain man with the dog? Or maybe Jeremiah Johnson.”
He tells me exactly what he’s thinking. Which isn’t exactly pleasant.
“Mom and I have been doing fine on our own.”
“Not anymore. Something big is about to happen. I don’t know what, but something big. Involving you. Involving him.”
“Who?”
“The old man.”
“You mean Walter Kinner? Your grandfather?”
“The old man,” Robert says, teeth clenched as if he can’t get himself to admit the guy is a relative.
“Why did you go into hiding?”
“What are you doing here in Chicago? Huh? Same thing. But you don’t have an option. You have to go back. I don’t think they’ve hurt your mom. Not yet.”
“Why didn’t you help us when we needed help?”
I see watery, cold eyes look at me. “You guys never should’ve come back. I told your mother that. But you did. It was out of my hands. You’re not my problem.”
“So then why are you here?”
He closes his eyes. When he opens them again, I see tears in them. He wipes them and shakes his head.
“You’re not the only one who lost someone,” Robert tells me. “Okay?”
He looks out the window next to him onto a dimly lit and empty side street.
“I’m not like them, Chris. I’m not like Marsh and Staunch.” Uncle Robert reaches over and grabs my wrist. “But I’m not like you either. You’ve got—you’ve got something I don’t have and never will have.”
“What do I have?”
“The courage to stand up and fight.”
He lets go of my wrist and then looks for the server again.
I sit there not feeling very courageous.
“Now go on, get out of here,” he says. “Go back to Solitary, and go to Marsh and Staunch and the old guy and do what they want you to do. And—just shut up and listen—and you’ll hear from me eventually. I just—I need time to figure out what to do. Okay?”
I want to say more. So much more. But I just nod.
“And be careful. They’ll kill you if they decide you’re no use to them. And just hope and pray that they haven’t already killed your mother.”