Lost in Flight Page 5
Riley nodded. “Nice.” Looking at Jed he asked, “Brother, can I crash with you tonight?”
Jed shrugged. “Of course. The house is yours and it’s free. My roommate went back to Shanwick where I thought you would be. Did you see her?”
Riley gave him a pointed look and said, “Yeah,” then rapidly changed the subject. He saw the look that passed between Jed and Gabby and the smiles that crossed their faces. Gabby asked him innocently, “How did that go?”
For a moment, Riley thought the gossip must have preceded him, but then he realized they were both just teasing him. He smiled. “Fine.” Giving Jed the head nod to follow him outside, Riley gave Gabby another kiss on the forehead telling her he’d be back tomorrow.
When they were out of earshot, Jed asked, “What happened?”
Riley looked at him and laughed. “Not good.” The two men shared a quiet chuckle.
“I take it you ran into her then,” Jed grinned.
Riley supposed you could call it that. It felt more like getting hit by a freight train than a chance encounter. “Oh yeah,” Riley said, “I’ll tell you about it later. I’m going to go and have a beer… or six.”
Jed raised an eyebrow. “That bad huh?”
Riley grinned. “Worse,” then he turned on his heel and left.
Chapter Five – May Day
Christina, D.C., The Past, Wednesday 4 April 2012 (Six months earlier)
In the last six months, Christina often mused on the way life can change in an instant. One moment, life is planned in a certain direction and the all-important goals achievable and within your grasp. Then in another moment, everything changes, goals are re-evaluated and paths altered. Whether this is for better or ill is only seen in retrospect, but the resulting impact of how things collide and the decisions made in that moment is never without consequence.
On the day Christina found out her baby sister, Gabby, was in intensive care she was working on a case that was, on reflection, similar to all the other cases she’d worked on nearly every other day of the year. Christina was an associate at the law firm Bindman & Associates in D.C. and on a career path to becoming a partner. She was driven in her professional life and the protégé of one of the senior partners, Debbie Bindman.
Christina was attractive with shoulder blade length caramel hair, like her father, and dark eyes like her mother. She had olive skin, stood just over average height, and had a serious demeanor that intimidated people. This aspect of her personality had been developed and nurtured on purpose, reinforced by her mantra of the 3Ds: determined, driven, and devoted to her work. Other people would have called her “difficult.”
There was also defiant, but she tried to channel that into her cases and use it for “good.” From time to time, it did seep out in other areas of her life: like her penchant for “biohazard/grunge” pajamas, steampunk jewelry, vintage clothing, and vinyl records. Very few people in her professional life saw this aspect of her because she made sure she kept them at a distance.
The other D she could add, but refused to acknowledge ended with the letters “imples.” She had them, and although her smile could transform her face from winter to summer, she didn’t do it very often. A full smile would have shown her dimples and they made her look frivolous and friendly.
If, however, her peers in her professional life had seen Christina in high school they would not have recognized her. Her office in D.C. was a long way from her hometown of Shanwick and her ex-husband, Riley. This was no coincidence. It was a carefully pre-planned, deliberate act.
One of the legends that circulated about her professionally was that she had been identified as someone with promise as a law student and advanced because of her intellect. Like all legends, there are kernels of truths, fantasies and metaphors contained within. Debbie Bindman’s daughter, Gillian, had been one of Christina’s friends at university and Debbie had represented a young Christina in her divorce proceedings from Riley. A more accurate description, known only to a few, is that Christina was placed on Debbie Bindman’s radar in extenuating circumstances.
When her mobile phone went off that day, Christina ignored it. She saw it was Johnny’s number, so she let it go to voice mail. At the time, Christina viewed what was before her at work as much more important than anything her brother could possibly have to say. She was wrong about that - very wrong indeed.
Around lunchtime, Christina returned Johnny’s calls. He’d phoned about five times, but, at the time, she didn’t feel guilty. That came later.
Johnny was now a famous rock musician and his band had made it to the big time with their albums, “Back of Beyond”, “Ties that bind”, and the dark, edgy “Lost in Flight.” Christina liked to keep those facets of her life separate from the new one. If anyone asked about her connection to her famous brother, she returned their questions with an unblinking stare until they backed away hurriedly.
As far as Christina was concerned, there was nothing to discuss. He was famous, he was her brother, they were no longer close, and they didn’t speak often. He had his life and she hers. The uninvited were unwelcome to delve any further for information.
As punishment, when the subject was brought up, Christina often had long discussions with colleagues of how when a personal life coincided with a professional one, someone was on the slippery slope to lacking ambition. Or worse: not fulfilling one’s potential. In those days, she’d been all about ambition and ‘fulfilling potential’.
Christina would never forget that phone call as long as she lived. It signaled the end of her carefully constructed life because it was ripped from underneath her when she heard Johnny’s strained voice. “Gabby’s in the hospital. She’s been bulldozed out of a tree house and they don’t know if she’s going to make it.”
In hindsight, she came to realize that the mind is an incredible thing. It seeks to protect itself from the shock of impact by information it doesn’t want to process. She couldn’t make sense of what Johnny was saying. At first, she thought Johnny was playing an April fool’s joke on her and got the dates mixed up.
Her mind kept raising its defense mechanisms, making nonsensical things spring out of her mouth. “But there has to be some kind of mistake. Gabby’s too old to play in a tree house - it must be someone else. Why was she in a tree house? She’s 23. It can’t be her.”
If this wasn’t Gabby, then there was no way her baby sister could be lying in a hospital maybe dying. Johnny always had the patience of a saint – well – not so much a saint as that of someone who has consumed a vast quantity of marijuana over the years. Speaking to her gently, Johnny informed Christina that:
1. It was Gabby.
2. She was in a tree house as a form of protest.
3. It was a huge “effing” tree.
4. She’d been bulldozed out of it.
5. He didn’t know by whom. He thought it was some corporate parasite or maybe the Government?
6. It was a miracle she survived.
7. They didn’t know if she would make it, and
8. If she did make it, she might have brain damage, or be paralyzed.
He was at the hospital now and he was trying to contact their father who was working somewhere off grid. Christina could hear the expectation in Johnny’s voice that she would come too, which was perfectly reasonable. It’s what families do in crises, isn’t it?
Except Christina had avoided family events for many years and only begrudgingly appeared. It wasn’t so much the “family”, but the potential for close proximity to Riley. Something everyone knew, but in the fashion of her family, didn’t discuss.
What shocked Christina the most, is that not only was she getting on the next plane, but that she wanted to. Her body knew what to do before her mind did. Marching down to Debbie Bindman’s office, Christina informed her what had happened and that she would be leaving to be with Gabby. She’d gone to her place, left a note for her roommate, packed a bag, and took the earliest flight she could get.
&nbs
p; Christina arrived at the hospital still in a daze, but seeing Gabby with a neck brace, her legs and arms in casts, broken cheek bone, abrasions, and hooked up to machines made her break down. Gabby and Johnny looked so much alike, taking after their mother. Both had dark wavy hair and were fine boned, with large dark eyes. When they were children, Johnny and Gabby looked like pixies.
All the children had their mother’s dark eyes, but Christina looked more like her father’s side of the family. Gabby was a petite 5’1 and five years younger than Christina, and seven younger than Johnny. She was a surprise baby for their parents and the age gap, plus her small frame, had always made Christina and Johnny doubly protective of her.
Seeing Gabby lying there in the ICU was the stuff of nightmares. Johnny kept walking out of the room because he couldn’t cope and so it was left to Christina to pull herself together to deal with the doctors. It took nearly all her willpower to concentrate on what they were saying and what they were saying wasn’t good.
Christina and Johnny slept in the waiting room – waiting – to hear whether their sister would live or die. There was some unspoken understanding between them, created by fear that bordered on the mystical: if they gave up their vigil – Gabby would die.
They’d seen death before. Their mother had died in a hospital not too dissimilar to this one, and they were not ready to allow death to come, and take their baby sister. So they waited in the hope that their combined presence would make the difference in pulling Gabby through.
Johnny’s presence at the hospital was the cause of interest and began to get on Christina’s nerves. He’d been assigned the absurd nickname of “Johnny Cool” by the popular press. People would be surprised to learn he hated this nickname and tried to redefine himself as “Johnny Fierce” when he went through a phase of guitar smashing, drug addiction, and celebrity girlfriends. It had never stuck, however, but to his chagrin “Johnny Cool” had.
After the umpteenth person wandered past staring, Christina decided if anyone took a picture she would defy the laws of physics by sticking their phone or camera in places where ‘the sun don’t shine’. As far as Christina was aware, they were spared the indignity of having one of their darkest moments uploaded for public consumption. This wasn’t to say that Gabby’s case didn’t attract the media. The connection to Johnny ensured that it did.
The Press circled liked vultures, with an increasingly brittle Christina having to field questions until they arranged a media spokesperson to act on their behalf. They lurched from one crisis to another, while at the same time hoping Gabby would live. Johnny hired Jed McGuiness, a rather large, dark haired, dark eyed, tattoo covered, and dry humored Irishman, as security because someone had tried to enter Gabby’s room to take photographs before they were wrestled out.
Pictures appeared in the newspapers and on television. Christina hardly recognized herself. It felt like a lifetime ago that she was the person too caught up in work to answer her phone.
It took them three days to contact their father, and by the time he arrived an exhausted Johnny and Christina were happy to place the leadership of the family in his hands. Unfortunately, Jack Martin didn’t really do leadership. He preferred to communicate his ideas through playing guitar or blurting inappropriate comments that were difficult to follow for the average person.
Their family reunion was awkward and tearful – made more awkward because it was tearful. Dad, of all people, didn’t go much for public displays of affection beyond singing or strumming his feelings. Their father was originally from South London and Christina had always viewed him as in this world, but not quite of it.
Seeing their father cry made Christina break down in tears again. Her tears abruptly stopped when she heard her father sob. “I thought she was going to be the normal one out of all you kids, but she isn’t.” Johnny and Christina shared a look, but decided, under the circumstances, to let it slide.
In response to what faced them: Christina was caught between rage and reason. Someone had thrown their baby sister – her baby sister - out of a tree and they were going to pay. Christina made her mind work so her heart wouldn’t stop every time the doctors came to speak to them and to calm the panic in her stomach.
All that was once essential and important in her life was given clarity. Held up to this light, it appeared empty and the icy barriers she’d constructed around herself began to thaw. Her heart was banging on the door.
While waiting for Gabby’s prognosis, Christina began focusing her attention on the details of her sister’s case, making notes and contacts, trying to piece together the information of what had happened. She contacted her friend and private investigator, Andy James, who began to collect evidence on their behalf against the company responsible. The damages in Gabby’s case could potentially be phenomenal and a civil case was a given, but Christina was also tempted to pursue criminal charges for the attempted murder of her sister. As far as she was concerned: this was war.
Gabby’s progress was slow, but incremental. She was removed from the ICU a week later, but the Martins learned Gabby would be in hospital anywhere between 12 and 24 weeks - maybe even longer. She had to have several operations, physical therapy, and be monitored for months afterward. Much of it depended on how Gabby would cope with the trauma.
The magnitude of what happened was only being fully realized by the Martins. They all had commitments, so decided to split up the duties. Dad would take the first month, Johnny the second, and Christina the third. This allowed all of them to get their affairs in order and ensure that a family member would look after Gabby at all times. Johnny organized accommodation in Seattle, which they shared with Gabby’s bodyguard, Jed.
At first, the thought of sharing a house with a complete stranger disturbed Christina, but as she got to know Jed, she genuinely enjoyed his company. He had a series of bizarre nicknames for the Martin sisters such as “girly”, “Princess”, or “Cheeky.” Although Jed came across as a bit of a gruff comedian, no one had broken into Gabby’s room again while he was on watch.
When they’d first been introduced, Jed had seemed familiar, but Christina couldn’t place him and he didn’t elaborate on whether they’d met before. She just put it down to Jed’s easy manner that was somehow comforting, even if the man himself was built like a street fighter.
For her first tour of duty looking after Gabby, Christina had managed to avoid her hometown, but her luck ran out for the second. Gabby was about to be released from hospital and for some bizarre reason, Dad and Johnny decided they should return to Shanwick for Gabby’s recuperation. Christina had argued strongly against this because Gabby lived in Seattle, Johnny lived in New York, and she in Washington.
It made no sense to Christina for them to move back to Shanwick. When she was outvoted 3-1, Christina petulantly refused to return to Shanwick until her father emotionally blackmailed her. Dad suggested remodeling the house for Gabby, something that hadn’t been done since before their mother died and all of them had wanted.
With sad eyes and a drooping mouth, Dad looked at her. “I understand. You’re really busy, but it would be so nice to see the family come together – just once - for your sister.”
Christina didn’t admit defeat often, but on this, even she knew she’d been beaten. She always rose to the challenge of a fight and would take no prisoners, but she hated hurting people intentionally, especially her father. As a compromise, she agreed to two weeks in Shanwick and reserved the right to leave if she found it unbearable.
Chapter Six – The home route
Christina, Shanwick, The Past, Saturday 29 September 2012, (Seven days ago)
“Rory Gallagher was a better guitarist than Jimi Hendrix. Hendrix even said so,” Dad insisted.
“Oh come on, Dad,” Johnny snorted, “he was just being polite…”
“Rubbish,” scoffed Dad, “it was the truth. What do you think, Dina?”
“I-don’t-really-care,” Christina groaned.
She could fe
el the eyes of her father and her brother on her, but she chose to ignore them. She knew she was being rude, but she was finding it difficult to control her irritation. Christina had been house bound, by choice, for a week and she was slowly going stir-crazy with only the Martin men for company.
Unlike the rest of her family, Christina was not remembered in her hometown with fondness or grudging respect. She had been the town’s resident bad girl, someone the police once questioned as a murder suspect, and a morality tale of how girls shouldn’t behave. It didn’t matter what she did in her professional life, here in Shanwick, she may as well have been in stasis as at circa 1998.
Despite Dad and Johnny’s best efforts, Christina had remained inside the house, refusing to venture into town. She just wanted to leave and her depressive mood had begun to suck the life out of everything in close proximity.
“Wow,” Johnny laughed. “You’re just a little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?
“She’s my very own little Eeyore, the donkey,” Dad snorted.
“Are you calling Dina an ass, Dad?”
Both the Martin men started guffawing, which made Christina sigh and turn away. She was tempted to wrestle Johnny to the ground, like she did as a teenager, and put him in a headlock. It wouldn’t be the first time, and at the rate things were going, it wouldn’t be the last. Johnny must have sensed her line of thinking, because he moved out of reach, and kept looking out the corner of his eye to make sure she didn’t pounce.
Instead of inflicting bodily injury on her brother, she buried herself in renovations - stripping wallpaper, sanding, filling holes in the walls, and trying to avoid her family. If she’d allowed herself, she might have actually enjoyed the experience, but she didn’t. She was too stubborn for that.
Rather than being sympathetic to Christina’s plight, the music wars began. Music had always played an important role in the Martin family as a way of bonding and communicating with one another. The Martins came from a long line of musicians and they, themselves, had once been a family act. Christina had been trained classically as an opera singer, until the age of 14, when she refused to continue. She didn’t sing publicly now and knew it disappointed her family, but she decided long ago that she didn’t want a career in music.