One Fine Day You're Gonna Die (5 page)

“I will never leave Kali.”

“Oh, but you will. Mastery is as necessary to
you as oxygen. One day, you'll decide that Kali
hasn't turned out quite the way you hoped—she's
too tall or too awkward or too dull or just inconvenient.
You'll tell her it's time she moved along—
that you've found this great boarding school for
her. She'll plead with you. She'll promise to change.
She'll vow to do whatever it takes to become the
person you want her to be. That's when you deliver
the coup de grâce and tell her that there is nothing
she can do that will make you love her again.
There is simply no place for her in your life.”

“Gabe, I swear to you…”

“You're not trustworthy, Robin. You've
broken your word before.”
There's no anger in Gabe's voice—just sorrow.
“You offer Kali
death by a thousand cuts,”
he says.
“I offer her
oblivion. You tell me which is the real act of love?”

Robin stands so abruptly that her headset is pulled off and clatters noisily onto the desk.

“For God's sake,” she says. “Why isn't anybody doing anything?”

Nova's voice over the talkback is urgent. “Help her, Charlie. We'll go to music. Dr. Harris chose Verdi's
Requiem
when we did the pre-interview. We'll play the opening.”

“Got it,” I say. I turn back to Gabe and our other 150,000 listeners.

“We all need a chance to let our pulse rates
slow. Verdi's
Requiem
—the choice of our guest
expert tonight—should do the job.”

“That will be pleasant,”
Gabe says.
“Kali
and I like Verdi, don't we?”

I can hear Kali's giggle. So can Robin. She buries her face in her hands. I flip off the button that controls my microphone and move my chair closer to hers.

“I know this is hard,” I say, “but try to keep it together. Our producer has been on the phone with the police since we heard Kali's voice. They figure Gabe's using his cell phone, but they're having difficulty tracking his location. You and Gabe were close. Where do you think he would he feel safe with Kali?”

Robin shrugs. “I don't know—his new condo maybe. He gave me the address, but I didn't put it in my book. The hospital will have it.” She frowns. “He wouldn't take her there. He knows that's the first place the authorities would look.”

“Was there someplace he and Kali liked to go?”

“Alligator Sam's. It's near my house. They have slides, play structures, toys—the kinds of things children enjoy. Gabe said they have a little coffee bar where parents can chat while their children play. Gabe and Kali loved it.”

“It's late, Robin. A place for kids would be closed by now.”

“Maybe the hospital…? That was always like home to Gabe.”

“Which hospital?”

“Lakeshore.”

“Okay, I'll pass that along to Nova, but Lakeshore's huge. Where would they even begin?”

“We have codes to alert staff. Code black indicates a personal threat—a hostage situation—a threat of injury or attack. The police will know.”

“Good. But, Robin, I have to tell you. I don't think Gabe took Kali there. Hospitals are noisy places, and I didn't pick up any background noise on Gabe's end of the call.”

“That's not right,” Robin says. “There
was
that bell sound. You noticed it, but I didn't at first. I think it was just one of those noises I was so used to hearing that it barely registered.”

“Maybe we'll get lucky and hear it again,” I say. “We're going back on the air now. Robin, give Gabe whatever it takes to keep him on the line. Listen for that sound. Try to identify it. It's the only hope we have.”

She doesn't move. She seems frozen.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

Robin Harris runs her fingers through her shining auburn hair.

“I'm fine,” she says. “I just hate that Gabe is being allowed to control the situation.”

I'm dumbfounded.

“This isn't about control,” I say. “This is about finding your daughter. If you gave me your daughter's class picture, I couldn't pick her out. All I know about Kali is that she has pajamas that she believes are magic and she knows how to sing ‘You Are My Sunshine.' She's a stranger to me, but there is nothing I wouldn't do to keep Gabe Ireland on the line because as long as he's talking to me, he's not telling your daughter that the injection he's about to give her won't hurt a bit.”

Robin Harris stares at me, absorbing what I've just said. Then she extends her hands palms up in a gesture of helplessness.

“I don't know how to do this.”

I shake my head.

“You are the proverbial riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma,” I say. “Dr. Harris, I don't get you. How difficult can it be to make Gabe believe that you love your daughter? That your life will be destroyed if anything happens to her? That a six-year-old child deserves to live?”

She turns, so that once again, I'm confronted with her perfect and distant profile. I'm not a guy who feels he needs to make a point by pounding the table, but tonight, confronted by the lack of comprehension on Dr. Robin Harris's lovely face, I pound the desk.

“Just say the damn words, Robin.”

“I can't beg.”

Disgust rises in my throat.

“Then fake it,” I say. “Because we're back on the air.”

CHAPTER TEN

T
he music fades, and I flip on my microphone.

“My name is Charlie Dowhanuik, and
this is ‘The World According to Charlie D.'
If you've been listening, you know that we have
a situation here, so for a while, we're just going
to keep our focus on Gabe and Kali. You know
what that means. No phone calls. No emails.
No texting. No nothing—unless you're sure you
can help. So, Gabe, how's it going?”

“Fine. Kali and I are playing Candy Land.
Kali just drew a snowflake card. That means
she's earned a visit to Queen Frostine's iceberg.”

I'm hoping if I keep it light, I can gain some traction.

“So for those of us who've never been to
Queen Frostine's iceberg, is that good or bad?”
I ask.

Gabe laughs softly.

“Why don't I let you talk to the expert? Kali,
my friend Charlie wants to hear about how we
play Candy Land. Can you help him out?”

“Sure.”
Kali's voice has the sweet fizz of soda pop.
“Hi, Charlie,”
she says.
“So what
do you want to know?”

“I need to know pretty much everything.”
My words to Kali seem to form themselves.
“I think tonight I need to find Candy Land
again,”
I say, and the raw yearning in my voice shakes me.

As she explains the game, Kali's voice has the breathless cadences of the schoolyard.

“It's a board game, and it's kind of baby.
It's for kids who can't read, and Gabe taught me
to read when I was five. Anyway, it's still fun.
I'll read you the box. It says that Candy Land is
‘a sweet little game for sweet little folks.' Gabe
and I each have a little gingerbread person, and
we take our person down the rainbow path,
through the Peppermint Stick forest. The first
one of us who reaches the Candy Castle wins.”

Robin's jaw is tight. Staying in control is taking its toll.

“Tell her to run.”

I shake my head and cover the mike with my hand.

“Gabe has the hypodermic, Robin.”

“Tell her…tell her I love her.” Behind Kali's small voice we hear the bell again. “There's that sound,” Robin says. “Where have I heard it?”

“Turn on your mike,” I say. “Keep Kali talking. If you hear the bell again, you might be able to identify it.”

“That sounds like fun, Kali,”
I say.

“It is fun,”
Kali says.
“I'm caught in the
Molasses Swamp now—you're stuck in there
until…”

“Until you draw the red card,”
Robin says. She's close to tears.

“I didn't think you'd remember the rules,”
Gabe says. He seems genuinely moved.

“I remember a lot, Gabe.”
Robin's voice is, as Gabe described it, full of music.

Through the talkback, Nova's voice is tense but excited.

“Dr. Harris is doing exactly what she needs to do. Tell her to ramp it up. If she can make Gabe believe they have a future together, we can save Kali.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I
flick off my mike and touch Robin's arm. “My producer thinks that you're getting through to Gabe. Keep going.”

She nods.

“Gabe, remember the first time we took
Kali tobogganing on that big hill over by the
ravine? All she wanted to do was race down
the hill, but you were worried she'd get hurt.
You made her listen to your tobogganing safety
rules five times.”

Gabe laughs softly at the memory.

“Finally she got bored, leapt onto her sled
and just pushed off. When she hit that bump
and sailed through the air, I thought my heart
would stop.

“We jumped onto our toboggan and soared
after her.”
Robin looks to me for approval, and I give her what I hope is an encouraging grin. It does the trick. She carries on.
“You and I were such idiots, Gabe. Of course,
we hit the same bump Kali did. She was fine,
but we nearly broke our backs.”

“Kali was wearing that cap she loved,”
Gabe says.
“The one with the bunny ears. She
shook her finger at us and said, ‘When you were
telling me all that stuff about being careful,
weren't you listening?'”

In the background, we hear the sound again. This time I make a connection. I turn off my mike.

“I think it's an elevator bell—the kind elevators in old buildings have. Keep him talking.”

Robin takes a deep breath and plunges in again.

“Then there was that month we spent at
Lake Saint Joseph.”

Gabe's voice is husky with emotion.

“We made love every morning before Kali
woke up. I painted your toenails. The shade was
called My Auntie Drinks Chianti—and your
toenails were perfect—they looked like small,
wet pink petals.”

“You and Kali were never out of the water,”
Robin says.
“You taught her how to swim and
paddle a canoe. And that sand castle the two of
you made—it was a work of art.”

“Until the rain came and washed it away.
Kali was heartbroken, but you just said, ‘Make
another one' and went back to that journal
article you were writing.”

Gabe's voice has changed. The joy has given way to a terrible despair.

“I remember every second of every hour I
was with you, Robin. Dante was right: ‘There
is nothing more painful than remembering
happy days in times of sorrow.'”

Gabe's anguish is a knife in my heart. We've lost him, and that means we've lost Kali. When I meet Robin's eyes, I see a panic that mirrors my own. She turns off her mike.

“It's not working,” she says. “Do something.”

I grasp at a cliché.

“
Time heals all wounds, Gabe,”
I say.
“You just have to hang on.”

“There's nothing to hang on to, Charlie.
That's what I've been trying to tell you. When
your show started tonight, you talked about that
moment when Eurydice stretches out her arms
to Orpheus, but all she can grasp is air. That's
the way it will always be for Kali and me. We'll
always be reaching for Robin, but we'll never
be able to touch her.”
His voice breaks
. “How
could I allow my beautiful Kali to endure that?”

“She doesn't have to,”
I say.
“Kali will love
other people. Gabe, no one's life hangs on the
love of a single person.”

“Your life did,”
Gabe says gently.
“Over
the years, I've often listened to your show. I was
listening the night you found out the woman
you loved was dead. What was her name
again?”

“Ariel.”

“Ariel,”
he repeats.
“It's a beautiful
name—full of light. When you realized you
would never touch her again, wouldn't you
have given anything for a needle that would
end your pain?”

“That was different,”
I say. My voice is flat.
“Ariel was…damn it, Gabe. It doesn't matter
what Ariel was. She's dead. Kali is alive.”

“And that means ter rible things can
happen to her. In ten minutes I'll be dead.
Nothing will ever hurt me again. What kind
of man would I be if I left Kali to face the
pain alone?”

Robin reaches for her microphone and clutches it as if it were a lifeline
.

“Gabe. I'll come back to you. I promise.”

“Don't say another word, Robin. You were
never a good liar. I don't want to die knowing
that the last words you spoke to me were
a lie.”

CHAPTER TWELVE