Fook (38 page)

“Look. I know that you’re worried about your
sister and I promise you, if we can’t figure out some way to stop
him before tomorrow night, we’ll tell your father and get your
sister as far away from here as possible.”

He could see a tear welling up in the corner
of her eye as she continued to silently stare at the road
ahead.

“Sarah.”

Glancing over at him.

“I’m not going to let anything happen. I
promise.”

A tear rolled down her cheek as she offered
a hesitant smile before turning her attention back to the road.

He knew there was nothing he could say to
make her feel any better, so he offered up a direction instead.
“Turn right up here.”

THIRTY-NINE

“I thought she wasn’t coming home until next week,”
Latisha leaned against the locker beside Katie’s.

“Excuse me,” a voice arose to her back.

“She was, but for some reason she came home
early and she brought home some boy with her,” Katie continued
sharing the morning’s events as she proceeded to swap the books
from her backpack for those in her locker.

“A boy?”

“Excuse me,” the whisper of a voice spoke up
again.

“Yeah. I mean I know we haven’t really
talked since…” looking down at her own stomach, “…but she and my
dad talk at least a couple of times a week and I don’t recall him
mentioning anything about a boyfriend.”

“The only time I remember seeing her with a
boy was that one time three or four years ago…at that party…you
know…the one that your family and neighbors used to throw every
year where your father cooked a whole pig and then tossed its head
around the backyard like it was a shot put.”

Katie nodded.

“Must be a white people thing,” Latisha
added under her breath.

Ignoring the judgmental remark, though she
fully agreed with her friend’s disgusted opinion, “That was the
last block party before my mother became too ill, and that was our
cousin that she was with,” Katie added quickly, trying to avoid
letting the whole sick mother thing intrude into yet another light
hearted conversation.

“Pig head tossing, cousin dating…remind me
again why we’re friends.”

“Excuse me.”

“Excuse me!” Latisha turned around,
obviously having heard the quietly intruding voice, and to that
point having chosen to ignore it. “May I help you?”

The shocked girl stared up at the
intimidating volleyball player and unable to form the words, simply
pointed at the locker against which Latisha was currently
leaning.

Realizing what the freshman girl wanted,
Latisha quickly dialed back the attitude and hopped away from the
locker. “Sorry.”

“She wasn’t dating our cousin,” Katie
explained.

“Huh,” Latisha took up her previous stance
on the other side of Katie’s locker.

“Our cousin, she wasn’t dating him. He was
simply at the party.”

“If you say so, but I definitely got the
cousin banging vibe from those two.”

Contemplating Latisha’s implications, Katie
quickly shook off the idea. “She was always too into her school
work to have a social life. You don’t graduate salutatorian and
earn a free ride to college by sleeping around.”

“Depends who you’re sleeping with,” Latisha
grinned.

“Nice. I’m not even going to go there,
though that would explain why you have a higher GPA than me.”

“Hey,” Latisha lightly punched Katie’s
shoulder.

“Striking a pregnant girl. It’s a sad day
indeed,” Mark stepped from the flow of students, squeezing in next
to Latisha.

Latisha just looked him up and down, shocked
by his suddenly social demeanor. Since Katie had agreed to go out
with him, even his posture and walk had appeared more confident.
“What social cocoon did you just hatch from?”

“What?” Mark turned to Latisha.

“Never mind,” she replied looking back at
Katie who had one hand on her stomach as she grimaced in pain.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.”

“Are you okay?” Mark instantly moved closer,
placing his hand on Katie’s arm.

“Yeah, I think so,” Katie groaned as the
pain subsided, allowing her to return to an upright posture.

“What was that?” Latisha tried to get
closer, not sure how she felt about Mark’s suddenly protective
intrusion into their friendship.

“I don’ know. Just a strange pain I guess.
Probably nothing to—“

Before she could complete another sentence,
the pain returned, this time dropping her to her knees.

“Katie!” both Mark and Latisha cried as they
each took an arm.

Realizing that something was obviously
wrong, “I’m gonna get the nurse,” Mark assured her as he pushed
passed the few shocked onlookers and took off down the hall.

FORTY

“What are you going to say?” Sarah stopped Derek as
he reached for the doorbell.

“I don’t know. I’ll think of something,”
Derek assured her as he pushed the button.

He really didn’t know what he was going to
say. He wasn’t even sure who might answer the door. He and Jason
hadn’t met until kindergarten so he couldn’t even be sure that
Jason’s relatives lived in the familiar house yet. All he knew was
that the house seemed a lot smaller and less intimidating than it
had back then. An old, two story Victorian near the edge of town,
he remembered being terrified of it the first time he’d gone over
to play. Though the house bore a welcoming white exterior, it was
clear that it hadn’t been maintained for decades and in numerous
areas, its cedar shingle exterior appeared to be trying to free
itself of its dried and brittle skin.

All of the windows bore heavy, dark drapes
and the glass insert in the door was handmade with bubbles and
imperfections that blocked and distorted any light that attempted
to pass through it, though a change in light and a dark mass told
them that someone was standing on the other side.

A soft click and a moment later, the door
slowly began its inward swing.

Derek could sense Sarah’s uneasiness as she
seemed to lean away from the opening door, probably feeling the
same thing he’d felt so many years earlier.

“Can I help you?” an elderly Chinese man
finally greeted them as he slowly shuffled around the open door and
into view.

“Hi, my name is Derek and this Sarah. We
were wondering if anyone with the last name Fook lives here.”

“Yes!” the man seemed instantly excited,
though Derek couldn’t figure out why.

“Is, Ushi Fook here,” Derek continued
hopeful.”

“Yes! Come on in,” the man responded with
the same sudden excitement.

“See,” Derek turned to Sarah as they
accepted the invite and entered the house, avoiding the old man as
he shuffled out of the way and started the process of re-closing
the door.

With a thud, the large wood door retook its
position within the ornate frame as the man latched the deadbolt
and turned. “Oh, hi there,” he seemed shocked by his visitor’s
presence.

“Hi,” Derek nodded with a look of
confusion.

“Can I help you?” the old man restarted the
brief exchange.

“Ushi Fook? You said she was here?” Derek
questioned.

“Ah yes! My baby sister. I think she’s out
with mother. She should be back any minute. Please come in,” he
waved them toward an adjacent room as he grabbed the walker he’d
left beside the door and began the slow journey toward the den.

“I don’t think he’s going to be much help,”
Sarah whispered into Derek’s ear as they followed the old man.

“I never met him, or at least I don’t
remember him. I guess I can see why,” he remarked at the old man’s
advanced age and apparent senility.

“Oh heavens! Mr. Fook, what are you doing?”
a female voice suddenly called out from across the hall.

Derek and Sarah turned to see a woman in her
thirties carrying a dishtowel in one hand and a fork in the
other.

“What have I told you about the front door?”
the woman added, bypassing their guests as she took hold of the
elderly man’s arm and attempted to lead him to a nearby chair.

“I’ve got it,” the jolly man instantly
became hostile, obviously not fond of being helped to perform such
trivial tasks.

Once the woman had Mr. Fook in the chair,
she finally turned to acknowledge Derek and Sarah who remained
frozen just inside the living room, unsure of where to go or what
to say.

“May I help you?”

“…Yes,” Derek hesitated.

“You’ll have to forgive Mr. Fook,” the
woman, sensing Derek’s hesitance, smiled. “He’s a stubborn old
coot,” she added, issuing the old man the same pleasant grin.

Mr. Fook seemed happy as he sat in the
chair, oblivious to the guests in his house.

“So what can I do for you?”

“We were hoping to speak with Ushi Fook,”
Derek told the housekeeper, or nurse or…whatever she was.

“Ushi Fook doesn’t live here,” the woman
answered, this time it being her turn to be confused. “Oh, did he?
Mr. Fook.”

“Mr. Fook grinned.”

“I’m sorry about that. He’s not supposed to
answer the door. Last time he did I found him out in the street
trying to play kick the can in the middle of a kids street hockey
game. Did he tell you that his sister was home?”

“He said she would be home momentarily,”
Sarah chimed.

“I’m sorry about that. Ushi Fook lives in
Tampa, Florida. Is there something that I can help you with?”

“We were just hoping to ask a few questions
about this house for a report we’re doing in school about New
England architecture,” Derek lied. “This being one of the oldest
houses in town, we thought it would be perfect.”

“That sounds interesting. You can try to
talk with Mr. Fook. He’s lived in this house his entire life. I’m
sure he’s got lots of interesting things he could tell you if you
can keep him on track long enough.

“What’s wrong with him?” Derek asked,
realizing instantly that it wasn’t any of his business and that he
probably shouldn’t have prodded.

“Alzheimer’s,” Sarah answered before the
nurse could.

“That’s right. How’d you know that?” the
woman seemed impressed and a bit skeptical now.

“My grandmother has it. She doesn’t even
know who I am most of the time.”

Derek looked at Sarah, unable to help but to
feel bad for her. A mother with cancer and now a sick grandmother.
What was next, an ill family dog?

“I’m sorry to hear that dear,” the nurse
responded with sympathy. “Well, Mr. Fook isn’t quite that bad. He
still knows who everyone is. He just has a hard time with the
‘when’ sometimes but that might be okay seeing as you’ve got
questions about his past. He’s good with stuff like that. Can I get
you two anything to drink?”

“No thank you, I’m good,” Sarah replied.

“No thank you,” Derek added.

“Okay then.” Turning to Mr. Fook. “These
fine young students would like to ask you a few question about your
beautiful house,” the woman spoke very deliberately.

“My house?” Mr. Fook responded with a
smile.

“Yes. Your house. I’m going to go finish the
dishes. I’ll be back with your pills in a few minutes, okay?”

“It’s a sturdy house,” he spoke, ignoring
the woman.

“There you go,” she turned to Derek. Looks
like he’s raring to go. Just better make it quick. There's no
telling when he might get sidetracked.”

With that, the nurse left the room.

Exchanging looks, Derek and Sarah took a
seat on the couch opposite Mr. Fook.

Uncomfortable, Derek waved. “Hello Mr.
Fook.”

Mr. Fook just smiled.

Looking toward the doorway, through which
the nurse had exited, and speaking in a hushed tone, “Mr. Fook, we
have a few things to ask you about your family.”

Mr. Fook continued to smile, which Derek
took as a sign to proceed.

“Do you know the name Jason Fook? I believe
he’d be your great nephew. He was just born about a week ago in
Florida.”

“Florida,” Mr. Fook repeated. “My sister and
I went to Florida once with our parents. Beautiful beaches. Ushi
always did love beaches.”

“Where is your sister now?” Sarah jumped
in.

“Florida.”

“Your sister lives in Florida?” Derek
attempted to get clarification that they’d moved past the previous
question.

Mr. Fook nodded in the affirmative. “She
writes. Her and Ty.”

“Have they written anything to you about
Jason?” Derek probed.

“He’ll be home soon.”

Confused, they exchanged looks, assuming
that the old man’s mind was straying from the conversation.

“Who will be home soon?” Derek asked.

“Jason.”

“Are Jason’s parents planning a trip to come
visit? That would be nice,” Sarah guessed at the meaning behind the
statement.

“No. Nesbits have him,” Mr. Fook huffed.

“What’s a Nesbit?”

“Nesbits took him home. Called him Oliver.
Ty’s going to get him back,” he assured them as he pointed toward a
desk against the wall.

“What’s he talking about?” Sarah whispered
in Derek’s ear. Who’s Oliver?”

“I don’t know,” Derek spoke as he stood,
looking back at the doorway as he made his way to the desk.

“Who’s Oliver?” Sarah continued the
questioning.

“Do you like pie?” Mr. Fook abruptly changed
the subject.

“I do like pie,” Sarah played along,
glancing over at Derek who was rooting around through the papers on
the desk.

“My mother makes the best apple pie. Maybe
she will make some for us when she gets home.”

“That sounds great,” Sarah agreed, unsure
where else to go with such a scattered conversation.

“I think I have something,” Derek mumbled
from the desk.

“What?” Sarah asked.

Derek turned to see both of them staring at
him, Sarah with a look of anticipation and Mr. Fook with a happy
grin.

“A letter from his Sister,” Derek added,
continuing to read to himself.