James Patterson - Lifeguard

“I’m gonna die, Ned,” my father said. “I don’t have the strength, or the time.”

“Not if you get yourself a kidney.”

“Kidney?” For the first time he turned to me, anger flaring in his pupils. “You think I could live with setting up those kids, Neddie?”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t think you’d set up your own son to take a murder rap, and you manage to live with that. You already lost one son, Pop. He was doing a job for you, right? Right?”

Frank took a short breath, then coughed. I couldn’t tell what was going on inside his head. Remorse; more likely, denial. He just sat there, his eyes following the game. He pointed to the Wall. “You know, they got seats up there now.”

“Pop,” I said, turning to him. “Please… cut the shit! I’m wanted for murder .”

Frank gritted his teeth, as though he were the one suffering. He squeezed the program firmly in his spidery hands. “Nobody was supposed to get hurt,” he finally said. “That’s all I have to say.”

“But people did, Pop. Mickey. Bobby. Barney. Dee. They’re all dead. You know how it makes me feel, that the only person I can come to for help is you. Help me find their killers, Pop. Help me avenge my friends.”

He turned to me. For a second I thought he was going to break down. “Georgie gave you good advice, Ned. Get yourself a good lawyer. Then turn yourself in. Anyone with a head on their shoulders knows you didn’t kill those kids. I don’t know any more.”

“You don’t know any more?” I said, my eyes growing hot with tears.

“Get yourself out of this, Neddie.” Frank turned and glared at me.

I don’t think I ever felt any lower than at that moment, knowing my old man was going to let me get up and walk out, without doing a thing to help. My blood was boiling. I stood up and stared him down.

“I’m gonna find him, Pop. And when I do, I’m gonna find out about you, too. Isn’t that right?”

A couple of Yanks had reached base. The Sox had made a pitching change. Suddenly, A-Rod unloaded a shot over the left-field wall.

“You believe that?” my father spat. “Just like I said, a god-damn curse.”

“I believe it, Pop.” I gave him just long enough to change his mind, but he never even looked at me. I pulled my cap down over my eyes and left the ballpark. And my father.

IT DIDN’T TAKE me much farther than the lower ramp of the stadium to realize I was kidding myself. All that big bravado talk about finding Gachet…All I had was the few hundred bucks Uncle George had stuffed in my hand. My face was all over the news. Any second the police could rush out and surround me.

I didn’t even know what my next move was.

I stood outside the park on Yawkey Way, and for the first time I had no idea where to turn. I knew the Tess McAuliffe thing looked bad. I knew my DNA was probably all over the room, my fingerprints. But the truth was, I hadn’t done anything other than set off a few crummy alarms. Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe there was only one choice. Turn myself in. And I was blowing it every second I stayed out there.

I found a pay phone a few blocks over in Kenmore Square. I needed someone to talk to, and only one name came to mind: Dave. Just dialing his cell, I felt as if the weight of the world had been eased off my shoulders.

“Ned!” Dave exclaimed in a hushed tone when he heard my voice. “Jesus, Neddie, I’ve been waiting to hear from you. Where are you? Are you all right?”

“I’m okay. I’m thinking about a lot of stuff. I didn’t quite resolve the situation quite as I planned.”

He lowered his voice. “You saw Pop.”

“Yeah, I saw him. He basically wished me luck and told me to drop him a line from jail. Got to see the Sox play, though. That was a plus. Listen, I’ve been doing some thinking. About what you said. I have to talk to you, Dave.”

“I need to talk to you too, Neddie.” He sounded excited. “I’ve got something to show you, too. About this Gachet… But, Ned, the police have been to see me. They’re all over this, guy. I talked to a few people… Everyone knows you didn’t kill Mickey and the guys down there. It turns out there’s something called agitated capacity. Basically, it means when you resisted arrest, you weren’t in your right mind.”

“That’s my defense? That I’m a whack job?”

“Not wacko, Ned. That you were pressured into doing something you wouldn’t have if you were clearheaded. If it helps you to get a pass on some of this, why not? But you’ve got to stop digging yourself deeper. You need a lawyer.”

“You putting up a shingle, Counselor?”

“What I’m trying to do, you jerk, is save your life.”

I closed my eyes. It’s over now, isn’t it ? I had to do the right thing. “Where can we meet, bro? I can’t risk coming by the bar.”

Dave thought it over for a few seconds. “You remember X-man?”

Philly Morisani. We used to watch the tube in his basement, on Hillside, in the same neighborhood where we grew up. It was like our private club. He was so into the X-Files , we called him X-man. I heard he was working for Verizon now. “Sure, I remember.”

“He’s away on business, and I’ve sort of been watching his place. The basement key’s where it’s always been. I’m at school right now. I need to finish up a few things here. How’s six? If I get there first, I’ll leave the door open for you.”

“I’ll use the time to practice putting my hands behind my back. For the cuffs.”

“We’re gonna get you out of this, Ned. I never told you, guy, I got an A in writs and statutes.”

“Jeez, everything’s coming up roses now! More to the point, how’d you do in litigation?”

“Litigation?” Dave groaned. “Nah, flunked that.”

We started to laugh. Just hearing the sound of my own laughter, feeling that someone was on my side, sent a little bolstering warmth through my blood.

“We’re gonna get you out of this,” Dave said again. “Stay out of sight. I’ll see you at six.”

I HAD A COUPLE of hours to kill, so I walked around Kenmore Square. I had a beer in an empty Irish bar and sort of watched the end of the game. The Sox actually came back with three in the ninth off Rivera to win. Maybe I should believe in miracles after all.

I sucked down the last of my beer – I figured it would be my last for a long, long time. Life as I knew it was about to end. I was definitely going to prison. I flipped down a ten for the bartender. Agitated capacity… Swell, Ned, your life’s been reduced to the hope that you were acting while completely out of your mind .

It was a little after five, and I found a cabbie who for forty bucks took me down to Brockton. I had him let me off on Edson and I cut over behind the elementary school to Hillside, where Dave was going to meet me.

The house was the third one down the block, a weatherbeaten gray Cape with a short, steep driveway. I felt a wave of relief. My brother’s black WRX was parked on the street.

I waited a few minutes by a lamppost, watching the street. No cops. No one had followed. Time to get this done …

I jogged around to the side of the house. As Dave had said, the storm door to the basement was open. Just like old times. We used to hang out there, watch some ball games, occasionally smoke a little weed.

I rapped on the glass. “Dave!”

No one answered.

I pushed open the door, and the musty mothball smell brought back a lot of good memories. Philly hadn’t exactly redecorated the place since I left. The same plaid, basket-weave couch and chewed-up recliner. A pool table with a couple of Miller Lite lanterns over it, a cheap barnwood bar.