The Eighty-eighth Key Ch. 28

So when Goodman and the elder Callahan returned they had no idea of the hornet's nest they were walking into...or the size of the hurricane about to be unleashed.

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Harry was comfortable walking around town now, so much so that more than a few merchants greeted him warmly when he happened by on his morning stroll through the central shopping district. Didi was similarly a gifted guide to the local restaurant scene, taking him on a world tour of exotic cuisines amply represented in town: she took him out for his very first curry and laughed at his red-faced response to lamb vindaloo. He was dumbstruck that people ate raw fish, but after trying salmon and tuna nigiri he was a convert. She took him to a Moroccan place and he was dumbfounded that people ate with their hands, no utensils allowed, yet he enjoyed that experience, too.

Harry's eyes were being opened under her patient tutelage, just as her father had instructed. Just as Avi had wanted his friend to see to. "His is a parochial worldview, Ben," Avi had told his friend months before he passed. "He must become a citizen of the world before he can truly understand our place in it. Or even his place in our world."

And the Colonel had agreed. He, or his daughter, would see to it. Because he had promised to make it so.

So when Tuesday Afternoon came along, when Harry walked up to the clinic he did so nattily attired and full of the newfound confidence that only sudden wealth can impart. And yet, all that his new 'station' in life implied wasn't lost on Callahan. If you're poor, he said to himself, people generally ignore you, or worse, but if you are rich people will fall all over themselves to ingratiate themselves to you. This in and of itself wasn't news to him; what startled Callahan was the experience of it all, the novelty of being treated in that way, and of how different this was to being a simple cop on the beat, or, as the case may be, to being a police detective.

This was different, and, after a few days, he grew mindful of the change.

When he entered the clinic the smiling receptionist greeted him by name, Sara's psychiatrist met him with a warm hug, while a cup of hot tea was waiting for him in the family conference room. Attendants smiled at him when passing in corridors, while before he had been almost a non-entity.

And it was all very troubling after just a few days, even as he sat in the little conference room waiting for Sara...

"How has she been doing off the medication?" he asked while they waited for Sara.

"About as expected, Herr Callahan..."

"Please, call me Harald," Harry said, rather surprised he had adopted his Danish moniker.

"As you wish, Harald. I would ask that you walk with her, and I mean close to her, these first few times out of the clinic. Her gait may be off, she may be prone to sudden falls, but this should dissipate after about a week..."

"Good lord..." he sighed. "Must be a powerful drug..."

"It is, but it has shown remarkable effectiveness calming the mind."

"Calming the mind? What do you mean?"

"Well, psychotic hallucinations might be considered errors in recalling a memory. The conscious mind may or may not be aware of the error, but even so, it struggles to produce the memory. The brain, in this instance, has real trouble doing so, and, in effect, it overheats...but I mean this in almost allegorical terms. The drug acts to calm this process..."

"How are hallucinations related to this?"

"Some researchers hold that hallucinations originate from fragments of memory that have somehow become scrambled. I'm working with Professor Pauling at Stanford on research along these lines, and the role of...oh, well, excuse me, I should not be boring you with such details."

"Stanford? That's my neck of the woods."

"Really?"

"Yes, I live in San Francisco."

"Well, how wonderful. I visit the Institute three or four times a year. so perhaps we could arrange for me to see Sara on these visits?"

"Yes, that should be no problem, at least not on my end."

"You know, as many times as I've been, I've yet to spend time in the city. I hear there are so many things to see and do..."

"We'd be glad to show you around..." he said, and he was instantly struck by all the casual inferences attached to the word 'we.' As in: Sara and I; as in: we are a couple; as in: we are husband and wife...and he found that the word produced a curiously indefinable feeling - until it hit him: 'I used to feel the same way about June. June and I were a 'we,' and that always felt right, didn't it? Do I feel the same way about Sara? Did that kind of Love hit me so hard, so fast?'

And just then Sara walked into the room, a smiling attendant steadying her as she shuffled along, and when Harry stood she fairly jumped into his arms, holding onto him with fierce possessiveness.

Her eyes were clear now, and he dove into her glowing depths, swimming in the vast currents of her soul, holding her close, loving her again with surprising intensity. He felt a pull coming from within those eyes, an insistent pull - a pull like gravity - and he yearned to float free from anything that might keep them apart...

Yet when at last he pulled free from her he found they were alone in the room.

"Do you think maybe we embarrassed them?" she said.

"I could care less."

"I know. It's a marvelous feeling, isn't it?"

"I just want to hold you," he whispered in her ear.

"I love you," she echoed.

"Would you like to get married? Like the day after tomorrow?"

"If you do, then yes."

"I do. More than anything in the world."

She smiled. "Then we shall."

"Now, do you feel like walking, or would it be easier to..."

"No, I must walk," she said, and she spoke now with a studied seriousness that belied hours of practice to reach this point.

"Then walk we will."

She made it one shuffling step at a time, first to a waiting taxi then into the house. Didi had put on a minor feast of Norwegian salads, most featuring smoked salmon or whitefish, before she disappeared for the afternoon.

And when they finished eating he walked with her to the living room, and to his mother's Bösendorfer - now safely anchored in this new safe harbor...

And she went to it now, admiring the smooth glowing arcs even as she approached.

"You know, I've never seen one like this. It must be very old."

"It was my mother's, and maybe my grandmother's as well. I'm not sure how old it is."

"The older ones are regarded almost as a Stradivarius, you know? Some have names, and a few are even regarded as having magical powers."

"I see. And you learned this where?"

"These are Viennese, Harry, just like me," she said, smiling.

He had to smile at the way she spoke now, almost tauntingly. "Do you play?" he asked.

"Oh, I play a little, if you can stroke the right...key."

"Would you like to play now?"

"Ooh, now there's a thought," she purred. "But, I had another instrument in mind..."

"Ah. Well then, you'd better come with me..."

"Oh, I intend to do just that, and more than once..."

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"We'll go look for a dress when I pick you up tomorrow," he said when he dropped her off at the clinic.

"I can't wait. When will you come?"

"The same time."

Attendants were waiting for her, and Callahan thought the whole place had a kind of prison vibe going on, and it unsettled him as she disappeared down the long corridor that led to her room. He turned and walked down the hill, and found Didi waiting in the Range Rover.

"Something's come up," she said. "My father needs to speak with you about Frank."

"Swell," Harry sighed. "Do you have notes on the Sea Ranch project?"

"Yes, of course."

"Okay," he said as he got in and buckled-up, "let's go."

When they were settled in the living room she dialed the compound and her father answered.

"Harry? What is your status there?"

"I'm getting married on Thursday. I'll be headed your way a day or so after that. Now, what's up with Frank?"

"Well, it's really Cathy that we're worried about."

"Oh?"

"I think the main problem concerns her house. She really seems to think its all Frank's fault."

"Can you put her on the line, please?"

"You want to speak to her?"

"Yes."

"I must warn you, Harry, she's really quite volatile right now."

"Okay, I'll consider myself warned."

"Stand by one."

He heard shouting in the background, and more than one hysterical screech that just had to be Cathy, or perhaps a goat being decapitated.

Then...

"What is it, Harry?!"

"Well, hello Cathy. How are you?"

"Swell. Isn't that what you always say? And really, Harry, people stopped saying that back in the fifties."

"Well, I'm fine, Cathy. Thanks for asking."

- silence -

"So, Cathy, the reason I'm calling is to tell you that I've engaged your firm to supervise the reconstruction of your house at the ranch. They've arranged for the original builder to do the work, and it should be finished in six weeks."

"What?"

"Cathy? Do I need to repeat what I just said."

"No. Harry, I'm just speechless."

"Also, I purchase the lot at the end of the street, the big one that overlooks the sea, out there on the cliff. I want you to think about the house I want you to design for me, maybe work up some plans while we're waiting down there at the compound. Think you could do that for me?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good. I've already retained your services with the firm, so keep track of your hours, okay?"

"Alright."

"I hear you and Frank are having issues. Is there anything I can help with?"

"No, we're doing just fine, Harry. Just fine. When will you be coming back?"

"I'm getting married on Thursday..."

"What?"

"Don't worry. We'll do it up big when we get back to the city. This one is just a formality."

"I'd still like...no, Frank and I would like to be there."

"Let me speak to the colonel. I'll see what we can do," Harry said, and, at the same time, he gestured to Didi. "Better see about Sara's parents. See if they want to come, too."

"Yessir."

"Didi?"

"Yes, Harry."

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And so, two days later Harry Francis Lloyd Callahan and Sara Rosenkranz were married. In attendance were her parents and Harry's father, as well as a bunch of cops, some Israeli commandos, an Army physician as well as a local shrink. As it happened, Lloyd Callahan hit it off with Sara's psychiatrist, and Harry wasn't too surprised to learn that Frank and Cathy were mending their fences. And so, after the simple ceremony, the group retired to Harry's favorite Pub for libations.

Fortunately, the pub had plenty of spare bedrooms ready to go.

The resulting party lasted well into the night, and Parish used up his entire supply of Caverject.

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© 2020 adrian leverkühn | abw | and as always, thanks for stopping by for a look around the memory warehouse...[and a last word or two on sources: I typically don't post all a story's acknowledgments until I've finished, if only because I'm not sure how many I'll need until work is finalized. Yet with current circumstances (a little virus, not to mention a certain situation in Washington, D.C. springing first to mind...) so waiting to mention sources might not be the best way to proceed. To begin, the primary source material in this case - so far, at least - derives from two seminal Hollywood 'cop' films: Dirty Harry and Bullitt. The first Harry film was penned by Harry Julian Fink, R.M. Fink, Dean Riesner, John Milius, Terrence Malick, and Jo Heims. Bullitt came primarily from the author of the screenplay for The Thomas Crown Affair, Alan R Trustman, with help from Harry Kleiner, as well Robert L Fish, whose short story Mute Witness formed the basis of Trustman's brilliant screenplay. Steve McQueen's grin was never trade-marked, though perhaps it should have been. John Milius (Red Dawn) penned Magnum Force, and the 'Briggs'/vigilante storyline derives from characters and plot elements originally found in that rich screenplay, as does the Captain McKay character. The Threlkis crime family storyline was first introduced in Sudden Impact, screenplay by Joseph Stinson. The Samantha Walker character derives from the Patricia Clarkson portrayal of the television reporter found in The Dead Pool, screenplay by Steve Sharon, story by Steve Sharon, Durk Pearson, and Sandy Shaw. I have to credit the Jim Parish, M.D., character first seen in the Vietnam segments to John A. Parrish, M.D., author of the most fascinating account of an American physician's tour of duty in Vietnam - and as found in his autobiographical 12, 20, and 5: A Doctor's Year in Vietnam, a book worth noting as one of the most stirring accounts of modern warfare I've ever read (think Richard Hooker's M*A*S*H, only featuring a blazing sense of irony conjoined within a searing non-fiction narrative). Denton Cooley, M.D. founded the Texas Heart Institute, as mentioned. Many of the other figures in this story derive from characters developed within the works cited above, but keep in mind that, as always, this story is in all other respects a work of fiction woven into a pre-existing historical fabric. Using the established characters referenced above, as well as a few new characters I've managed to come up with here and there, I hoped to create something new - perhaps a running commentary on the times we've shared? And the standard disclaimer also here applies: no one mentioned in this tale should be mistaken for persons living or dead. This was just a little walk down a road more or less imagined, and nothing more than that should be inferred, though I'd be remiss not to mention Clint Eastwood's Harry Callahan, and Steve McQueen's Frank Bullitt. Talk about the roles of a lifetime...]