Off Kilter (4 page)

“There were so many people there, she very well could’ve gotten lost in the crowd. I’m sure she would not have wanted to make a scene or upset Collin,” Henry said.

“You would think she would at least come and say hello,” said Sarah. She paused before continuing. “That’s in the past now, isn’t it? I guess the important thing here is that she and I are now Facebook friends. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yes, dear, it is, I suppose. What now?”

“What do you suggest? I don’t want to be too aggressive and scare her off, but I am dying to talk with her. I really want to find out how she knew about the accident.” Sarah remained quiet as she scrolled through photos and posts on Emily’s Facebook page. “I know she and Collin patched things up a year or two ago. I wonder if Collin has communicated with her since he left. If anyone could get through to him, it’s her. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I agree on both accounts. We need her help, but we can’t risk pushing her away by being too eager. Why don’t you just invite her to lunch? That’s a natural thing to do.”

“That’s a marvelous idea, Henry. I’ll do that.”

“And while you’re at it, ask her what happened that night on the back patio.”

“I’m sure that would be a fantastic way to start our first conversation in over a decade: ‘And why is it you broke my son’s heart after he spent all day cooking and decorating and setting up that special graduation celebration?’ She wouldn’t mind that question right off the bat.”

Henry chuckled at her quick-witted response. “Yeah, but you’re aching to know, aren’t you?”

“Darn right I am, but I’m going to be a little more subtle than that, I think.”

“That’s a good idea. I still think its strange how everything changed so suddenly. The night of graduation they were so happy and playful, full of smiles and hugs. Then the next night, after all of Collin’s hard work, she dumps him and tears out of here without a word. I believe that’s the last time we saw her, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it was, but the mother’s network has kept track of her, you know,” said Sarah with a gleam in her eye.

“Oh, yeah? You’ve been stalking her, have you?”

“I wouldn’t call it that, but I know she graduated top of her class from Johns Hopkins with a degree in Bio Medical Research and did her doctorate at Harvard. I also know she’s working at the Scripps Institute in San Diego doing cancer research.”

“Wow, that mother’s network knows a lot.”

“Well, the last part is right here on her Facebook profile. But Janice and Diane seem to always be in the know about that whole group of kids.”

“Whatever happened to her parents? I always thought they were fairly pompous and high-minded,” said Henry.

“Who knows? They never associated with us commoners. They were definitely the high society type, born with East Coast money. Wasn’t he a cardiologist? I think that’s right, from Harvard, and she was a socialite who liked to fundraise for the trendiest charities and attend all the elite galas,” Sarah said matter-of-factly. “I think Emily really looked up to her father but was controlled by her mother. If you ask me, that woman had more to do with her breaking up with Collin than Emily did.” Sarah’s voice was tinged with ire.

Henry read a message from Emily that popped up. “Look, she’s asking how you’re doing. I think she wants to chat, so there you go. Just be yourself.”

Sarah typed a quick response and opened a conversation that began the rebuilding of a relationship long since forsaken. The conversation flowed naturally and without interruption. By the end of their twenty minute exchange, the two ladies had arranged a lunch date for Saturday.

Sarah was anxious. With the clock ticking, she needed help and was happy to enlist Emily in her cause.

Munich, Germany

May 2

Collin shook off the grog that customarily enveloped him in the mornings, trying to remember where he was.  The brochure he left on the nightstand served as a reminder that he was in Munich, Germany. He fumbled for the remote and turned the TV to CNN. He watched the news for half an hour to be sure there was nothing relevant. He flipped through the local channels, too, before going to the door to pick up the newspapers he had requested with his breakfast, which arrived at 8:00 a.m.

He ate his eggs and toast while scouring the pages of the newspapers. Nothing. Nothing about him, his family, or the episode in London. Not even a mention of the violence in Hamburg. Nothing about his supposed connection with the assault on the computer systems of the Royal Bank of Scotland. That was good, he thought. A quick check on the Internet produced the same results.
Perfect
.

After showering and dressing, it was time to take to the streets and subways. Lukas had confirmed that he had not been followed to Munich, so he was free to venture forth from his hotel and explore the city. He wore clothes to help him blend into any crowd. A dark, hooded sweatshirt, black running shoes, and jeans.

He spent the day walking the streets, trying to look like everyone else. Only, he just pretended to have somewhere to go and something important to do. With nothing more than a quick glance, he would study faces as they went by, being careful not to make eye contact. He had learned to discern expressions and body language. He looked for anyone who appeared to be looking at or watching him. But no one paid attention to him. Not today.  The suits from London and Hamburg were nowhere to be seen.

That was good.

During lunch, Collin managed to read a local newspaper in German and pull out a few more vocabulary words and sentence structures to keep building his language skills, although he rarely used more than the typical phrases needed to order food, a hotel room, or to buy tickets for transportation. There was a sense of accomplishment that came with recognizing words and phrases. He also listened carefully to conversations in the subway, cafes, and at street corners. He almost never spoke to anyone, but it was comforting to know that he could have a conversation about the weather, current events, or the economy and sound pretty good doing it.

The small street-side café grew more crowded as he ate. Collin’s seat was against a wall, under an umbrella, in the far corner of the outside patio. Like many of the young people at that café, he had his laptop out on the table and was browsing the Internet. He was busy planning his stay in Munich, deciding what attractions and areas of the city Amy would most like to have seen. Being a fan of old European architecture, especially cathedrals, he knew his wife would enjoy this city, its ambience, and the wealth of sightseeing attractions.

After lunch, Collin walked through the streets of the shopping district, taking pictures of the quaint buildings and streets, like so many of the other tourists he saw. He headed to the famous Englischer Garten, created in the eighteenth century to preserve the natural wonders of Bavaria. Miles of walking trails and wide open green space made this a place worth seeing. Collin strolled along its paths, knowing Amy would have loved this area, fighting back his emotions as he thought about her. Maybe it was a mistake to come here. His break down on the plane to Hamburg left him feeling more mentally feeble than he had in months. He pressed on for Amy’s sake, pushing aside the rising tide of feelings and focused on photographing the scenery for her.

His efforts yielded little. The flood of memories was building, spilling over his delicate barriers. Try as he might, he could not contain it. As he walked along taking in the sights, sounds, and smells, his defenses began to break down. He heard Amy’s laughter echoing from a time years before when they had gone on a picnic together at a similar looking place in the Sierra foothills.

Soon his mind was caught up in the memory, and he felt himself spinning out of control, unable to stop it. Flashbacks of Amy and the children laughing and playing in the park and on the swings gripped him as he watched a young German family. The children were the same ages as his had been and were frolicking much the same as his had done not so long ago. Collin stopped in his tracks, only ten yards from them, transfixed with a hollow gaze. His mouth half-curled up in an eerie smile as his eyes glazed over. It was a bizarre display that frightened the German children.

Replaying that day in the park in the California foothills took him far away from reality for a few dangerous moments. He was forced to snap out of it as the irate German father approached him—irritated and intimidating with tightened jaw muscles and glaring eyes. Stunned and self-conscious, Collin turned and sprinted away as fast as his legs would carry him.

A quarter mile later, he was well out of danger, so he slowed to a brisk walk and headed toward the downtown area to find a crowd into which he could merge. His eyes darted in every direction and his head swiveled side to side, but saw nothing unusual. These types of suspicious actions could draw attention, he knew, so he sucked in a deep breath to calm himself. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out his breath as he struggled to shake the haunting memories that had taken control of him in the park. In his mind, his children continued to run and play, laugh and call his name, hold his hand and look to him for protection.

Like a herd of wild horses corralled in a crowded pen, Collin’s memories couldn’t be contained. His diminishing control over his thoughts and actions presented a growing peril to his safety and survival. It was time again check in with Lukas for some coaching and reassurance. He needed a friend and wished Lukas was there with him.

“Collin, what’s up?” Lukas’s voice sounded distracted. Collin had the feeling he was calling at an inconvenient time.

“Sounds like you’re busy. Maybe I should call later.”

“No, no. This is as good a time as any. I meant to call you to see how you’re doing.”

Collin explained to Lukas what had just transpired.

“I’m no expert on mental health issues, but it sounds to me like the pressure may be affecting you more than we expected. Maybe you need to get your mind on something else. You know, add some other sensory inputs. Try to distract yourself. Go somewhere crowded where there’s a lot of noise and lots of things to look at. Maybe watching a game on TV would help.”

“Right,” said Collin. “I’ll find a busy sports bar or something.”

“All right. Sounds good. Call me later, OK?” said Lukas.

With darkness moving in, enveloping Munich in its chilly grasp, Collin found a teeming sports bar in the bustling downtown district—the kind with several television sets showing different games all at once. The choices were soccer, cricket, rugby, or the news. He settled into a seat near a television, where a dapper anchorman in a fashionable suit talked and smiled. The volume was too low to hear, but the words and pictures on the screen told enough of the story. 

He ate alone against the wall at the far end of the restaurant, hunched over his laptop, pecking away at the keys, recording not only the events of the day, but his reaction to them in his journal. He hoped this would provide insight into his meltdowns. As he typed, Collin nibbled on the uninspiring food and monitored the happenings on the TVs. As his eyes scanned the room, they inadvertently locked onto the face of a beautiful woman sitting at the bar with her girlfriend. Her long, silky, blond hair shone in the dim light of the bar. Her cheeks were slightly concave, and her skin was perfect. His gaze lingered on her face a bit too long, and she blushed and looked away. The two girls started giggling and whispering to one another. By the time they looked back, there was nothing but a plate and a few bills on the table.

Collin was out on the street, hurrying to escape an uncomfortable situation.

That face was so sweet, so pretty, so happy. It was hard not to dwell on it, but he couldn’t allow it. Her laugh was cute and genuine, and her eyes danced. All of it too much like Amy. He couldn’t stay; it was all wrong. Too many memories were already too close to the surface.

Out in the cool night air, he turned his focus on the chill and the wind. He was heading east toward the subway when he noticed the sound of footsteps behind him on an otherwise desolate sidewalk. He turned a corner. So did the footsteps. He quickened his pace and checked his watch. The footsteps were still there. He crossed the street, and so did they, the soft thumping growing louder. The shadowy figure followed him into the subway terminal. Without stopping or looking left or right, Collin walked right onto the train in front of him just before the doors shut, nearly hitting him.

He turned and looked through the window to see a large man nearly collide with the closing door. The man’s angry gaze was fixed on Collin. A thick finger jabbed at him against the dingy glass amidst a hail of snarling and cursing.

Collin’s stomach rolled over, twisting into a knot, and his face went pale. His knees wobbled, so he sank into the nearest seat and buried his head in his hands, trying to shut everything out.

It felt like the walls were closing in on him and there was nothing to stop them. The forces squeezing him were too powerful.

As the train stopped at the next station, Collin pulled himself together, exited the train, and made his way to the street. He checked his surroundings, glanced at his watch, then headed toward the bus stop. The streets were damp and crowded; the air chilly. He switched back and forth between the bus and the train, looking out for anyone following him, until he was back at the hotel.

Once in his room, he packed without delay, collecting the few personal items and clothes he traveled with, and checked out via the hotel TV. Pulling up a map on his phone, he charted his route.

He was on an express train out of Munich less than forty minutes later. Next stop: Paris.