Too Near the Edge (19 page)

“These are some major issues. Don’t be afraid
to get wet.”

Metaphor again. If I had to think in watery
terms, I’d describe myself as drowning. But I decided to try for
some more direct communication. “Tyler! I was confused when I came
in here, and you’re making it worse! Can’t you give me a straight
answer for once?”

“Later dude, I’m gone.” And sure enough, he
was.

Saturday morning I got a call from Erik
asking me to go for a hike and late breakfast at Chautauqua Park. I
had other stuff to do, but I was very curious about his brother and
other parts of Jenny’s message, so I went.

The park contains several hundred acres of
open space at the base of the Flatirons. We met at the Bluebird
Mesa trailhead, just off the parking lot west of the ranger
cottage. Erik greeted me with one of his irresistible smiles and an
extra water bottle in case I had forgotten mine. He set a fast pace
as we hiked up the trail that rises steeply through a prairie grass
meadow to the top of the mesa. Walking behind him on the narrow
trail, I admired his solid leg and shoulder muscles. Even in
Boulder where fitness is almost an obsession, Erik stood out.

Pride pushed me to match his speed, leaving
me little breath for talking. We stopped a couple of times to drink
from our water bottles and enjoy the panoramic view of the Boulder
valley below. But we kept our thoughts to ourselves.

As we got to the top of the ridge where we’d
take the more level Bluebell Baird trail through a ponderosa pine
forest, I thought about how to ask Erik about what Jenny had said.
I couldn’t tell him that Sharon had contacted Jenny, so I couldn’t
see any way to bring up Amber and Melissa. But I could ask him
about his brother, since he had mentioned him to me before.

I didn’t need to find a way to broach the
subject. I was still catching my breath and admiring the vista of
the meadow and the city below, when Erik turned to me with a nasty
scowl. “What business do you have interfering in my life with my
dead wife?”

All of a sudden, Erik was livid. He seemed to
be able to turn his emotions on and off like a water faucet. I was
still contemplating my response when he attacked me again. “Don’t
you have any respect at all for other people’s privacy? I hate
people poking around in my life. It makes me damn mad.”

I was taken aback. “Wait a minute. What do
you think I did?”

“I saw Sharon last night. I know what you
did. Now I want you to tell me exactly what Jenny said to her—every
single word.”

I became more and more nervous, and was about
ready to run right back down the trail to my car and leave, but I
remembered Tyler telling me not to be afraid to get wet, so I
stayed. I tried to calm him down with a reasonable response. I
said, “I can’t do that. I wasn’t in the room with Sharon when she
talked with Jenny. All I know is what she told me—which I gather
she’s already told you as well.”

“Look—I’m not saying I believe you can
connect living people up with dead people. But let’s just pretend
it is possible. Don’t you think you should at least check with the
living person who was closest to someone who died before you go
resurrecting that person?”

I didn’t even know where to start to answer
that. Dead people’s rights to talk to whomever they choose? My
inability to control who appears to someone in the apparition
chamber? Client confidentiality? Finally I said, “I didn’t
resurrect Jenny. As I’m sure Sharon told you, Jenny appeared when
Sharon was trying to contact Adam. And if you want to know what she
said, you’ll have to ask Sharon.”

Our conversation was interrupted briefly as a
couple with two young children—a baby in a backpack and a little
boy with a walking stick— came toward us along the forested trail
from the west. We exchanged hiker greetings and stepped aside to
let them pass. I hoped Erik would take that as a natural end to our
conversation about Jenny. But no such luck. As soon as they were
out of range, he started in again.

“Sharon and I did talk. She thinks Jenny gave
her a message about some scam involving Dr. Ahmed. She wanted to
know whether Adam talked to me about Ahmed. I told her Adam never
mentioned Ahmed to me. We never talked about him at all. And, like
I said before, I don’t like Ahmed, but I don’t think he’s a
criminal.”

“So why is Jenny’s message about a scam so
upsetting to you?” I asked, thinking his anger was way out of
proportion to the situation. I wondered whether Erik was worried
that maybe the scam Jenny had warned us about was the herb growing
kits his Natural Herbal Remedies Company was selling for $500 a
pop. Hmm…something else to have Pablo check into?

“I’m upset because she was my wife, and I
don’t want her memory dragged though the mud as part of some
spiritualism experiment.”

I wasn’t going to argue with Erik about the
legitimacy of my project. And furthermore, he was all over the
place about whether he believed Sharon had actually talked to
Jenny.

Without warning, Erik’s bad mood cleared,
like clouds swept away by a brisk wind. An engaging smile lit his
face. “Look Cleo, I know you and Sharon are my friends, and you
care about me. And maybe you thought you could help me somehow by
reaching Jenny. Sharon has been telling me I should try it. I had
some bad luck with Jenny, but she and I are over. I’ve moved on,
and I don’t want to go back. So how about we agree to forget about
Jenny, finish our hike, and get some breakfast.” With that, he
turned and set off at a good clip along the trail to the west.

I wasn’t in much of a mood for breakfast with
him at that point, but I followed along behind. The trail is a loop
and I had to get back to my car one way or another, so I figured I
might as well keep going. We hiked in silence through the pine
forest to the Bluebell Shelter. As usual, the forest had a calming
effect on me, such that I remembered I hadn’t yet gotten answers to
any of my questions. So why not have breakfast? How nasty could he
get in a restaurant full of people? And anyway, I was starving. So
I kept following along down the fire road from the shelter to the
auditorium and the historic restaurant just beyond.

The Chautauqua Dining Hall was built in 1898,
in the style of resort architecture of the time. It was part of the
Chautauqua movement to bring lectures to smaller towns. The large
wrap-around covered veranda is its main appeal as a summer dining
spot. Tables on this porch seat about a hundred diners, who enjoy
views of the extensive lawns that make up Chautauqua park, and a
wide view beyond of the city below. Erik charmed the hostess into
giving us a porch table, where we ordered large glasses of
fresh-squeezed orange juice, Belgian waffles with strawberries and
whipped cream, and extra-large cups of dark French roast
coffee.

While we waited for our food, Erik talked
enthusiastically about his herb and nutritional supplement
business, boasting he would get rich while helping people at the
same time. He was wildly optimistic about the potential of his
business, and I couldn’t help but be captivated by his passion for
his work. So I listened quietly, enjoying the luscious combination
of crisp waffle, smooth cream and ripe berries.

Just as I finished the last bite, Erik leaned
toward me and said, “I decided when I was just a little kid that I
would get rich. My parents worked hard but got nowhere. They were
stupid. They let life use them rather than using life. I made up my
mind not to let that happen to me.”

This gave me the opening I was looking for.
“So what about your brother? Is he rich?”

“What brother? I don’t have a brother.”

“The brother you told me you had to visit
because of some important family thing back in April when Adam was
going to the Grand Canyon.”

“You must have misunderstood, Cleo. All my
family are dead. I don’t have anyone.”

“Erik, that night we were at the Rhumba, you
said you had planned to go to the Grand Canyon with Adam, but then
you couldn’t go because you had to go visit your brother
instead.”

“Well you know—I didn’t really want to go
with Adam, but I had said I would, so I made that up about my
brother. I was doing Adam a favor, making it easier for him by not
telling him I didn’t want to go,” Erik said earnestly.

“So you don’t have a brother?”

“No, I do. But I usually don’t like to talk
about him. He’s a real jerk. We were both abused by our parents and
ended up being raised in foster homes. He never got over that—been
a whiner all his life. I never see him or my parents. They’re dead
to me and that’s what I tell people.”

My head spun with all his contradictions. But
in spite of his confusing stories, I couldn’t bring myself to write
Erik off, even if he was a little scary. He had such an endearing
way about him, plus—I’ll admit it—he was hot. And overall, he still
seemed mostly sincere and caring. As a therapist, I deal with some
very difficult people, and while I see their weaknesses, I
generally like them and believe they are basically good people. I
did consider asking him about Amber and Melissa and maybe about how
Jenny came to forget her inhaler, but I didn’t. I guess I wasn’t
ready to get that wet.

Saturday afternoon, Sharon called to invite
me to Nathan’s soccer game so we’d have a chance to talk. He’d been
attending an intense soccer camp for the past two weeks, and this
was the final event. The game was at 4:00 at the South Boulder Rec
Center, off Gillaspie in the Table Mesa area. When I got there, I
found Sharon wearing beige linen shorts that showed off her long
legs to their best advantage and a reddish-brown sleeveless shirt
that matched her hair perfectly. She was all set up with blankets
to sit on, big jugs of water and lemonade, and a platter of
watermelon slices. Looked like she expected more guests than just
me.

I joined her on a blanket, admiring the
outstanding long view of the Flatirons you get from south Boulder.
No clouds, so it looked like we’d escape the thunderstorms common
to summer afternoons.

“Gorgeous day,” Sharon said with a smile. “I
had to do a bunch of laundry and stuff this morning, so it’s good
to finally get out.” I think this was the first time I’d seen
Sharon looking truly happy. I noticed when she was relaxed she had
one of those wide infectious smiles that draws you in to a place
where everything is more amusing than you had realized before.

I hesitated to intrude on her good mood, but
I thought I should tell her what Erik had said. I tried to put it
gently. “I went hiking at Chautauqua with Erik this morning. He was
kind of upset about you contacting Jenny yesterday. Somehow, he had
the idea we should have asked his permission.”

“That’s strange. When I told him about Jenny
last night, he said the whole thing was way too new-agey for him,
and he didn’t believe I’d actually talked to Jenny.”

“Did you ask him about Amber and Melissa and
his brother Harry?”

“I did. He said he had no idea what I was
talking about, that he doesn’t know anyone named Amber or Melissa
and he doesn’t have a brother.”

I poured myself a glass of lemonade, and took
a big gulp to give myself time to decide how to respond. I decided
I needed to tell it like I saw it, even though Sharon felt close to
Erik. “He told me that, too—but then when I reminded him that he
had mentioned visiting his brother, he admitted that he does have a
brother. But he said the brother is a jerk, and he never sees him.
At this point, I don’t know how much of what Erik says is true and
how much he makes up. I can see why Jenny would say he sometimes
lies.”

“It is confusing, I’ll admit.” Sharon
hesitated as if pulling the words from under a rock. “But Erik has
been so helpful to us, and I don’t have any evidence that he’s lied
to me, so I have to give him the benefit of the doubt.” She gave me
a questioning look as if asking my approval for this stance.

I felt conflicted. While I didn’t want to
trash Erik, I wanted to warn Sharon to be careful. Before I could
frame a reply, the game heated up. A penalty was declared on a
player from the opposing team who had pushed Nathan with his hand.
Nathan got a direct free kick and scored a goal. The other kid
stomped around and had what looked to be an intense talk with a
coach. When normal play resumed, we watched without talking for a
while. Sharon didn’t bring up Erik’s brother again, so I decided to
move on to another topic.

“I did some web searches on Dr. Ahmed,” I
said. “But I didn’t find anything. Did you talk to Erik about what
Adam said to him about Ahmed?”

“I asked him, but he said Adam never talked
to him about Ahmed. I’ll do a little nosing around with staff at
Shady Terrace to see what I can find out there without being too
obvious,” Sharon said. “Oh look, there’s Joel. Nathan asked him to
come, but I didn’t think he’d actually show up.”

Given their history, I could see why Sharon
wouldn’t count on Joel for much of anything. But she looked happy
to see him, and made room for him on the blanket next to her. He
wore a dark green sport shirt and chinos instead of his usual tee
shirt and baggy shorts, and he looked like he had shaved that
morning. Could all this be for Sharon?

“I would have been here earlier, but I was
talking to some folks about a possible job,” Joel said reaching for
a chunk of watermelon. So he hadn’t dressed up for Sharon. But he
was looking for a job in Boulder? Interesting.

Sharon looked a bit taken aback. “You’re
looking for a job here? What kind of job?”

Joel grinned. “Teaching at a new private high
school that focuses on giving students real-world responsibilities
and opportunities to give back to the community.” His eyes lit up
as he continued. “The people who are starting it are committed to
the idea that we should teach students that they have a
responsibility to use the knowledge they gain for the benefit of
others. So citizenship and community building will be a big part of
the education.” Joel stopped to wipe at the watermelon juice
dripping down the front of his shirt.