The Newman Resident (23 page)

“Let’s go, Richard,” Carol said. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“But—”

“This must be what Dr. Newman was calling me about,” Carol said. “I’ll call him back when we get to my office. I need to have those files in front of me when I talk to him.”

Richard tried to hide his surprise. It was the perfect comment, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as the smile on Ms. Garrett’s face seemed to slide off.

“I guess you’re right,” he said, and they headed for the front door.

“Dr. Newman is out of the country,” Ms. Garrett said.

“You need to be better informed,” Carol said, not looking back.

Richard pushed on the front door to open it.

“Just one moment,” Ms. Garrett said, pulling out her cell phone. She spoke into it for a moment, nodding her head. “I’m sure the superintendent has a few minutes this morning. Perhaps we can arrange something.”

CHAPTER
FIFTY-FOUR

S
he led them down a long hall, followed by the safari bouncer. Richard had been down the hall two or three times before, but it felt strange this time. Eerie. There was something different about the air, the walls. Something was off, even more than usual.

The door to the superintendent’s office was open, and they walked past his secretary into his office without stopping. He stood up from behind his desk.

“Ms. Carson,” the superintendent said, “Dr. Jenkins told me you and he had a crystal clear agreement.”

“I never agreed to being shut out from my own son.”

“Ms. Carson said that Dr. Newman returned from his trip,” Ms. Garrett said. “That he called her.”

“Look,” Richard started, “all we want—”

“Dr. Newman called you?” the superintendent asked. “I didn’t know you knew each other.”

“We’re just here to see—”

“Certainly, if you personally knew Dr. Newman, I would be aware of that.”

“He’ll be interested to know how unaware you are, Superintendent,” Carol said.

Ms. Garrett took a quick, deep breath.

“All we want to do is see Christopher,” Richard said. “Why is that so difficult? He’s here, isn’t he?”

The superintendent turned to his computer and typed in a command. He turned the monitor so that Richard and Carol could see it, then typed in “Carson” and pressed enter. A schedule of classes came up on the screen. Richard looked closely.

“We know where your son is at all times. Right now, he’s in his physics class. Soon, he’ll return to his living quarters,” he pointed to a block of time on the screen, “for fifteen minutes of personal time. Then, another class.” He pointed to “Room 316.”

“Are you certain he’s in his physics class?” Carol asked.

“Of course. Where else would he be?”

“Then let us just look through the door,” Richard said.

“There’s no window, so you’d have to open the door to see him. Then, of course, instruction would stop, your resident would see you, and the entire class would be disrupted.”

“Would that be so bad?” Carol asked.

“Ms. Carson, we can’t play favorites here. If we allow you to disrupt class, we’d have to allow each and every parent to do the same. How would the residents find time to learn?”

“We’re not going to wait until the end of the quarter to see our son,” Richard said.

“We’ll send you a special video this month.”

“That’s not good enough.”

The superintendent sighed and turned the monitor back facing him. “We don’t normally do this, but I’ll have my assistant
take you to our administrative offices. There, you can complete the necessary paperwork to visit your resident.”

Carol turned to her husband and smiled, surprised. “Well, good. That’s what we wanted.”

“So,” Richard said, “when can we see him?”

“First you need to fill out the papers.”

“I understand that, but when can we see him?”

“They’ll explain all of the details to you in the administrative offices, Mr. Carson.”

“This afternoon? Tomorrow?”

“It’ll take approximately a month, I believe,” the superintendent said.

“What?” Carol shouted.

“The month will go quickly.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a month or a minute,” she said, “the point is we’re his parents and—”

“Forget it, Carol,” Richard interrupted. “It’s no use.”

Carol looked over at her husband in shock, ready to argue with him, but he shook his head in a calm, almost stern, way.

“After all,” Richard said, “that’s what we came here for, the assurance that we could see our son. It doesn’t have to be today.” He stood up and faced the superintendent. “You can give us your personal assurance he’s all right? That he made it back here safely and is now attending his class?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine. Let’s sign the papers. The important thing is that we’ll get to see him.”

“Good. I appreciate your willingness to conform to our policies, Mr. Carson. Believe me, the resident is receiving the best of care as we speak.”

“Just one more thing,” Richard said. “What does a little lion cub have to do to become a real lion?” It was a gamble, but maybe if the superintendent knew that Richard was aware of a few things he’d be more careful how he treated his son.

The superintendent’s eyes froze on Richard, then he took a deep breath. He motioned to the host waiting near the door and instructed him to show the Carsons to the administrative offices. Without a comment, the host walked past the secretary’s desk and into the hall, Richard and Carol following close behind. Ms. Garrett remained in the superintendent’s office and closed the door.

They turned a corner and came to a closed door. The host stopped and stepped aside. Richard opened the door and motioned for Carol to walk through, which she did. Then Richard went through the doorway and let the door close partway behind him. When the host reached for the doorknob to follow them, Richard slammed with all his weight into the door, hitting the host in the face and knocking him to the floor. Carol let out a scream, but quickly covered her mouth. As the stunned host tried to get up, Richard ran up to him, using his momentum to kick him in the face. The host fell to the floor, apparently unconscious.

Richard grabbed his wife’s hand and started to run down the hall.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” she whispered.

“It’s those old Bourne movies you never wanted me to watch,” he said as they rounded a corner in the hall, coming to the large door that led to the lobby.

Richard opened the door slightly. The host had his back to the desk, speaking on the telephone. His first thought was that somehow someone knew what he’d done and was notifying the
front desk, but he decided there hadn’t been enough time. It was worth the risk.

“Carol,” he whispered, “just walk through the lobby like nothing has happened, and don’t look at the host. Don’t give him any reason to quit talking on the phone. Then get a cab and get out of here.”

“Where should I go?”

“Don’t go back to the apartment. Once they’ve figured out what happened, they might go looking for you and I don’t want you alone.”

“I’ll go to Susan’s.”

“Good. I’ll call you when things are settled.”

“Richard, what are you doing?”

“Who knows? I’ve got to find Christopher. Now get going.” He looked over his shoulder, hoping no one was coming. “There’s no time to talk.”

“Let me help.”

“They’re going to catch me sooner or later. You’ll be a lot more help out there than in here. Go!”

Carol walked through the doorway cautiously, keeping an eye on the host. He was still talking on the phone, apparently to some friend by the way he was laughing, with his back to the lobby. Richard remembered the card in his wallet with the telephone number from Harold.

“Pssst.”

She didn’t hear him.

“Carol,” he whispered.

She still didn’t hear him.

He looked over at the host, expecting any minute for him to turn around. Richard inched his way into the lobby, but he didn’t
want to leave the door and have it lock on him. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, took the card out, then placed the wallet in the doorway, keeping the door from closing. He walked up behind his wife, who was almost at the front door.

“Carol.”

She turned, surprised.

“Call this number when you’re safely away from here,” he whispered.

“Who is it?”

“Tell them it’s an emergency. Explain what happened. You can trust them.”

She nodded and turned back to the front door. Keeping an eye on the host, Richard walked back toward the large door to the hall. He sighed as he heard the front door close, knowing that Carol had made it. The host said good-bye and turned to hang up the phone. Richard ran for the door, not worrying about sound. He pushed on the door, catching his wallet as it fell, and headed down the hall without looking back.

CHAPTER
FIFTY-FIVE

R
ichard ran up the stairs and stopped at the door with the sign “FLOOR #3.” He opened the door a couple of inches and looked out. The hall was empty. He opened the door a little farther and looked in the opposite direction, closing it when he saw two hosts approaching. As they walked past the door to the stairs, he heard one of them talk about some fight. Once they passed, he opened the door and headed down the hall from where they’d come.

Richard kept repeating “Room 316” in his mind, trying not to forget it. There was a number of doors on either side of the hall and, despite what the superintendent had said, each had a small window. 308...310...312.... Richard ran, crouching down whenever he went past a window. It wasn’t difficult to hear the instructors speaking. In 314 he heard the instructor, a man, yelling at one of the residents, accusing the child of not trying hard enough. Finally, he came to 316.

He stopped at the door, inching up to the window so he could see inside. The room was almost completely dark, but he could hear a woman’s voice talking about something—the law of inertia?—as she pointed a laser pen at the screen.

Richard searched the room for Christopher, but he just couldn’t make out kids’ faces. All the students sat rigidly, looking at the screen in front, sometimes entering something into their tablets. Off to the side, about three rows up and against the wall, was an empty desk. The only empty desk in the room.

The teacher said “next” and an image of the solar system appeared on the screen. Richard opened the door and entered the classroom, standing right next to the door. No one noticed him.

“Christopher Carson, you must come with me. I must take you to the superintendent’s office immediately,” Richard announced. Everyone turned and looked at the dark figure that had spoken in the back. The instructor stopped and put down her laser pointer.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“The superintendent—”

“You aren’t from the superintendent’s office. Who are you?” Everyone squinted when the instructor turned on the lights. Richard scanned the room, but there was no sign of Christopher.

“Who are you?” she asked again.

“I am the boy’s father. I’ve come for my son. Where is he?”

The children looked shocked to see a real father in the school. They whispered to one another, looking at the father, then at the instructor.

“I’m calling security,” the instructor said.

“Where is he?” Richard shouted this time. Several children covered their mouths, eyes wide open and staring.

“He’s not here,” a little boy said, barely loud enough for Richard to hear. The boy was sitting next to the empty desk.

“Be quiet,” the instructor said.

“They said he was sick,” the boy continued, “but I don’t believe them.”

“I will send the next resident who speaks to the basement,” the instructor said. “Now turn around.”

As she was trying to get the children back in line, Richard jumped into the hall. He ran down to the next corner, but as soon as he turned left, he spotted two hosts at the end of the hall. One of the hosts saw him and yelled for him to stop. Richard turned around and headed back from where he’d come. When he got near the physics classroom, he saw the instructor standing outside the door, talking with a host.

“That’s the intruder,” the instructor yelled, pointing at Richard.

Richard turned, but saw the other hosts running up fast from behind. He ran forward, thinking he’d have a better chance with just one host. The host lurched forward, tackling Richard around the waist and bringing him down. The two men wrestled on the floor, the host at least fifty pounds heavier. Richard broke from the host’s hold and got up, only to be grabbed by the legs and come crashing down on the hard floor again. The host jumped on Richard’s back and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, struggling to grab one of Richard’s hands as he kept swinging.

Richard heard children screaming. The kids poured out of the physics class, the instructor trying to keep them back and shouting at them to “remember your training.” Led by the little boy who had spoken up earlier, the children piled on top of the host, knocking him off of Richard.

“Leave him alone,” they were shouting. “He’s Christopher’s father.” They swung their little fists into the host’s stomach and face, giving Richard all the time he needed to get up and run down the hall.

CHAPTER
FIFTY-SIX

W
hen Richard pushed open the stairwell door he paused for a second, then ran up the stairs. He figured if Christopher was supposed to be sick, maybe he’d be in bed. He kept trying to remember where the superintendent had pointed when he spoke about “private time,” but he couldn’t remember the room number. He came to a door that said “FLOOR # 4,” but kept running up. When he got to the next door one flight up, he stopped at the sign, “FLOOR # 5,” trying to catch his breath. He pushed open the door. He couldn’t see or hear anyone and walked down the hall toward a set of large double doors. He looked behind him, saw no one, then ran. Slowly, he opened one of the doors and peered inside the room.

It was huge. Christopher had talked about what the Newman staff called the “dorm room,” and how he got to “sleep in a room with a bunch of other guys,” but Richard hadn’t thought he meant a place like this. It was crowded with beds only a couple of feet apart. A small dresser and bookcase sat at the foot of each bed. Hanging on each headboard by wire was a small metal sign, like a license plate, with the resident’s name stamped on it.