"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." ~Edgar Allan Poe
Frank was a man of means, a partner at a large law firm that works (when he last checked) nearly 30% of the cases involving medical malpractice suits in Pittsburgh. Exceedingly wealthy, but not one of those 1%'ers or anything over the top like that. He married at 30, worked 80 hour weeks until he was 41 when he the offer to be a partner was made to him over a glass of scotch and water and a real Cuban cigar, not one of those Romeo y Julieta garbage kind that always leave you feeling dirty when you've finished. This was the kind of cigar that came in a box that cost more than a lot of folks make with three months salary. It was expected, he knew he'd eventually get the offer because he'd worked at it his entire life and his dream had finally become his reality.
Frank and his wife, Marie, had three kids and a big house in one of those chic and expensive neighborhoods that made all the other parents at their children's private school jealous. Marie loved it, it made up for some of the time that Frank spent at the office. She naturally made friends with those that were around but after Frank made partner, she thought it'd change. Things did, he was home more often and spent more time with the children. Things were happy with Frank, Marie, and their three children. An added bonus was that the house they bought was within a short drive to the office, which was good because he still spent a significant amount of time there.
He was also a man of ritual. Every day he woke at 6AM and jogged 3.6 miles, in the winter he ran on the treadmill in the basement while during the warmer months he liked to get out on the road for his daily jaunt, and their neighborhood was great for Frank's early morning jogs. He'd wave to all the neighbors as they woke and went about their own morning routines. Every once in a while when she was up, Frank took the family dog, Sunny, on his run with him and she seemed to like it.
Frank and Marie had decided on a labrador because they're good with children but that breed needs to get out and exercise too but, as they got a bit older, the kids didn't want to play with Sunny as much so Frank took it upon himself to keep her in shape. After his exercise, he showered and had breakfast and took his coffee in a travel mug with him to work. Of course he could get a cup on the way to work but that was slightly out of his way and he was particular about having a few ice cubes mixed in with his black coffee to take the edge of heat off. 3 cubes from the freezer in his kitchen was the perfect number and it was always such a hassle to ask for that type of thing in the mornings at a fast paced coffee shop. Not that he minded asking for it, just that the barista would invariably put too many in, too few, or none at all. In a pinch, a venti black and cup of ice water was his compromise, he'd simply add the appropriate amount of ice on his own for the taste.
The family had a happy life together, sure there were some differences at times, but those happen in every family. They had a nice house, nice things, each other, and a pretty certain future. It's not like in America litigation is going anywhere anytime soon. Job security, beautiful wife, even a dog, but all they were missing from the "dream" was the white picket fence. That was great for Frank because white fences always reminded him of Tom Sawyer and unlike most, he'd never been a fan of the late Samuel Clemens's work. Partly because that was one of the few things that his father attempted to share with him as a child so he shied away even as an adult. Some things will always leave a sour taste in your mouth, Frank supposed.
When he was a child, Frank and his father had a rough relationship but, as with all things, time softened their issues and they were fairly close as they both grew older. He even spoke to his father on a weekly basis after Frank's parents retired and moved to Florida, with all the other old people in the world. Frank's father was a gambler and he loved to go to the race track and bet the dog races. There were always some kind of dog races going off somewhere in the panhandle so it was perfect for him and for his wife, who got together with all the other old ladies and had "social clubs" which was an excuse to get drunk on wine and gossip about the missing members that evening. Frank's father would often take the young boy to the races and Frank would inevitably get bored and want to go home before the day was over. You see, Frank's father was one of those types that thought parenting was simply watching over the child while his wife was busy. Every once in a great while he'd engage the child and attempt to teach some life lesson but it usually came out all wrong and the pair found it better to normally just stay quiet.
One of the most impressionable and lasting memories Frank had from childhood was a day at the race track with his father. A day just like any of the others when his mother would go off to play cards with the neighbors and Frank needed to be watched. They weren't having much luck that day but whenever you bet on racing dogs, you often don't have the best of luck. Dog races are too random and the best thing you can have is luck, unless you know something special. Frank's father didn't know anyone special but those greyhounds sure moved gracefully and he loved to watch and it was a bonus whenever he picked a winner.
Frank asked his father "Dad, can we go home yet? I'm bored"
"There's two more races, boy. You can wait. How about you pick a super for this race? Maybe that'd make it less boring for ya." came the reply.
Frank decided he'd play along, but couldn't pick four dogs. The "super" is a "superfecta" and it's a combination of 4 dogs and always pays the biggest. They don't always offer superfecta bets in all races but this one was the last "super" of the night and Frank kind of wanted to win, maybe it'd be exciting, they'd never won a "super" before.
He narrowed it down to half of the dogs in the race but couldn't decide between any of the rest because their names all sounded pretty cool to him. Frank started looking around for inspiration, maybe one of the other bettors would give him a hint if he could sneak a peak at their cards or playbooks or something. All he found was a bi-centennial quarter on the ground so he picked it up, at least he wouldn't be going home broke like his father often did.
"Francis, did you decide on your dogs yet? No? What's the numbers on the back of that coin?" asked Frank's father.
"1976?" replied Frank.
"And that's your dogs, boy, I'm going up to bet now, you know the drill: keep an eye on our table."
A few minutes later Frank's father re-joined him and they both sat and waited for post time. The gates flew up and off the dogs tore after the rabbit on the rail. Dog races are quick and if you're not watching close enough, you might miss who won. Frank missed it but his father was already out of his seat and shouting "Finally, shit, boy, we hit your 1-9-7-6 straight! What were the odds!? What were the odds?!?!?!?" as he raced over to the counter with their winning ticket in hand.
They cashed their voucher and Frank's father was so happy they'd won nearly a thousand dollars that he said "Boy, you made me proud today, I know it was just a stroke of luck but hell if it don't feel good, right?"
Frank replied "I had fun today dad, I like to win." with a smile.
Laughing at the naivete of the boy's response, Frank's father said matter of factly "That must be some lucky coin, I'd hold on to that if I were you"
Frank did, he kept that coin the rest of his life. It was his only real superstition, and it seemed to really be imbued with some type of luck. When he was older, his baseball team won the regional championship when he had that coin in his shoe the whole game. He had sex for the first time with that coin nearby and he got accepted into the undergraduate and then law schools he wanted, when he rubbed that coin before submitting his applications. His wife agreed to go out with him for the first time as he felt the slight weight of the coin in his shirt pocket. He smoked that cigar with his scotch and water with that coin in his wallet. He kept it on him nearly everywhere he went and it always seemed to help him out when he needed it.
He started to really believe in the power of the coin when he was offered partner over two candidates he thought had a better shot. At that point, he decided it was time to put that coin somewhere safe so that he'd never lose it and risk losing his lifelong lucky streak. Of course, most of his good fortune was due to choice and circumstance rather than chance, but once someone convinces themselves they've got something lucky or starts to believe in that superstitious nonsense, they can rarely be unconvinced. With coin safely locked away, job situation seemingly all sorted out, and family and friends at his side, Frank felt relieved. He'd done it. He'd done everything he set out to with his life by the time he was in his mid forties. Happy house, happy home, happy life.
The coin's power still had the desired effect for Frank even while locked away in the safe under his desk in his home office. He continued to do well at work and his family even seemed to experience the effects of this powerful coin. His wife's writing "hobby" actually turned into a book deal and she was selling those things faster than they could be printed, it seemed. She was all set and ready to go off for a few weeks on a promotional book signing tour. The kids were all doing well in school and work was getting easier by the day while he performed just as well and made ever greater amounts of money yearly.
During the third week his wife was away, while the kids were either off at friends' houses or in their rooms playing video games, a call came on the house phone. It was Marie's publisher. "Frank, we've just been in a car accident and they're taking Marie to the hospital. Frank, get out here quick buddy, it's bad."
He called the kids and his wife's mother and told them they'd all need to come over the house immediately. The children arrived home first and he said "Kids, your grandma is on her way over to watch you for a while, I've got to go visit your mother."
Frank didn't want to alarm the children, and he didn't even have time to think to grab his coin. He waited for his mother-in-law to arrive and met her in the driveway, "Judy, Marie's been in an accident, someone needs to watch the kids, I'm flying out now. I'll keep you posted." Frank said as he hopped in the car and tossed Judy a set of keys. He loved his wife and needed to be with her at this time, Judy understood. She'd watch the kids while Frank was gone.
He sped the entire way to the airport with credit cards in wallet and phone in hand trying to organize an immediate trip to Portland, Oregon from Pittsburgh. He pulled into the check-in and paid an exorbitant sum for the tickets and was lucky enough to get a flight out in only two hours with just one layover in Dallas. He'd be at his wife's side by midnight. Luckily, it seemed his coin was still operating, but this accident had to be some sort of malfunction or just a bad scare because his coin had yet to fail him before.
Frank sat in the airport lobby awaiting departure and quickly made as many phone calls as he could, first to Judy:
"Hey Judy, I'm at the airport, heading out in about an hour. I'm going to try and find more information and call you back. I've got to talk to Paul, Marie's publisher. He was with her.."
Judy interrupted him, "Frank, Paul just called here again. He's probably going to be calling your cell phone now. Marie's in surgery. They're not telling him much. You need to get out there."
"I know. Believe me, I'm having a hell of a time here. Dammit. I should be there by midnight they're telling me." Frank replied, pain audibly creeping into his voice.
Right after he hung up with Judy, a number called not in his phonebook. "Hello Paul?!? What's the news?" Frank asked.
"Yeah partner, it's me. I'm not 'kin' so they're not giving me much info on anything. She's in surgery now, been there for about a half hour or so. Frank ... when will you be here?" came Paul's reply.
"As soon as physically possible. I'm sucking down coffee like a mad man and shaking like a meth addict over here, worried sick. Can you put me on the phone with one of the doctor's?" Frank said.
Paul replied "Yes, I gave them your phone number but they said until she's out of surgery they won't have much to tell you either. They know you're on the way but, I gotta tell ya, it was scary. It was a nasty accident, she got pretty messed up. Lost consciousness after the ambulance arrived and I haven't been able to speak to her or see her since. They rushed her straight to the ER and have been working since."
"Damn, well, if you hear anything at all, seriously, call me. Tell the doctor to call me, what's the hospital's number?" Frank asked as he pulled out a pen and wrote the number on his hand. After he got off the phone with Paul, he hesitated to call the hospital. Frank just sat there for about 10 minutes, hanging his head and shuddering at the thought of losing the love of his life.
He eventually got his nerves together and made the call, was directed to the receptionist in the ER and she basically said the same as Paul, they'd make everyone aware as soon as more information was available but Marie was still in surgery. No, she didn't have any more information than that but she tried to be helpful by giving directions to the hospital from the airport. He stopped her because he couldn't take anymore of this non-information and he knew he'd just get a taxi, toss him a couple hundred dollar bills and get there as soon as possible. The taxi driver ought to know where he's going.
He went back to hanging his head until the boarding call came. He boarded the plane, and the longest and most arduous wait of his life began. Time slowed to a crawl and then seemed to stop for a while and then crawled again. Frank swore as he looked at his watch that the second hand literally stopped half a dozen times while he watched it, waited, and listened for any news of their flight times or expected arrivals. The in flight movie wasn't a movie, it was a couple episodes of a television show. Marie's favorite television show that she forced him to watch with her every Thursday night after they went on their weekly date. He hung his head, covered his ears and for the first time in his adult life since the birth of their first child, actually shed a tear. How could this be happening? Can my fortune have changed? He asked himself these questions over and over in his head but knew there would be no answer until Portland and he hadn't even made it to Dallas yet.
The rest of the flight went much the same, head hung low, shuddering and not speaking to anyone. If he hadn't managed to eek out "My wife was in an accident" to the stewardess they may have thought he was a nervous airplane bomber with how he was acting. Slowly rocking back and forth in his seat, head hung low, and his body shuddering from time to time. He was physically in shock, he'd never had anything so tragic happen that made him worry so much. He personally had never so much as a broken bone and no one else in his family had either. This was such a strange and terrifying feeling. The worrying was the worst feeling he'd ever felt. It had to be how hell felt, he thought. Hell is waiting on an airplane, watching your wife's favorite show, not knowing whether she's going to be alive when you next see her or not.
His personal hell ended as he ran off the plane as soon as the gate opened, barging right by the attendants and other first class passengers. He was only carrying his wallet and his phone so he ran straight to the nearest exit and found a cab. Tossing the driver a hundred, Frank said "I've four more if you get me to St. Genevieve's Hospital quicker than you've ever gone before, my wife was in an accident"
The driver needed no further urging and tore off from the terminal with the pedal to the floor. That crown victoria was going to be showing her true stripes that night as the pair sped to the hospital in record time. Frank threw the money through the window to the driver and got out of the car even before they'd come to a full stop. He ran to the desk in the ER and saw Paul sitting in the lobby, head hung low.
Paul noticed the bustle as Frank rushed in, made eye contact and just went back to hanging his head. Frank collapsed as he realized his wife was gone. He'd never again get to hear her laugh or see the glint in her eye when he made her laugh. She was gone, he'd later find out internal bleeding couldn't be stopped. Frank arrived at the hospital at 12:37 AM, Marie MacComber was pronounced dead at 12:09AM. It wasn't as if those extra minutes would have helped, he wouldn't have been allowed in the surgery room and he would have only flew into a rage for not being allowed to see his wife.
When he finally did get to see her, she was a mess. Blood was everywhere, even an untrained eye could tell from the wadded up bloody rags that there was just too much lost for her to live. Frank sat down right there on the floor and couldn't move, couldn't think, could barely breathe while he tried to understand what had just happened to him. He sat there motionless, taking short breaths until a nurse noticed he probably needed some help and got him up and into a bed down the hall. He laid there and wept until sleep took over.
He woke up and Paul was sitting in the chair, again hanging his head, just staring at the ground. "I'm sorry, partner" was all Paul could think to say. What else can someone say when that happens? What can someone do? There was no comfort for Frank, he was only half a person now. His heart just died down the hall while his plane was landing on the tarmac at the airport in Portland.
Frank never remember much over the next few days. He remembered calling Judy, there was a lot of silence and sobs when he broke the news. "Wait til I get home, I'll tell the kids." Frank remembered clearly telling her that but by the time he did arrive back home, the children had figured it out on their own and attacked him at the door, all three bawling like infants rushing for their father's comforting arms.
Funeral arrangements were made and Marie was laid to rest next to her grandparents in the family plot. Frank made arrangements for a monument he thought she'd like. Frank's morning drive to work (when he finally went back to work) began incorporating a ride through the cemetery to visit his wife. He was ok most days, but he rarely slept. Running helped tire him out so he started running at night instead of the morning and it seemed to fix the problem for a while.
About three months after Marie's accident Frank was out for a run with Sunny and he noticed his shoelace was coming undone so he bent down to tie it. As they stopped, Sunny paced around him a while (he had her leash tied to his waist band) and as she took a few steps into the street to paw at a bug she found, she was struck by a grey sedan. The force of the impact instantly killed Sunny and pulled Frank to the ground. As he fell, he hit his head on the sidewalk and was knocked unconscious. He woke to someone shaking him "Hey, are you all right?" the stranger asked "I just called 911, I think someone hit your dog, did you see who did it?"
Frank didn't respond. He couldn't, his eyes glazed over with that unfocused look and he laid his head back on the concrete. Frank didn't answer any questions from the paramedics when they arrived, he couldn't speak. Both of his women had been taken from him. Taken, and he'd always been so charmed. Eventually, the one medic checked Sunny's collar and found the house number. Judy had been stopping by more often, helping around the house, since her daughter passed and she answered the phone.
"Uh, yes, ma'am, uhh... I think we've got your husband here. There's been an accident and he seems ok, got a bit of a bump on his head but he won't respond to any questions we're asking him. Are there any medical conditions we should be aware of?" Asked the medic when Judy answered.
Judy said "He's my son-in-law, where are you? I'll come and get him. We've been through a lot, you're sure he's ok?"
"Yes ma'am, physically fine, might have a bruise or two but we can't find anything wrong." replied the medic.
Judy arrived on the scene and the medics had managed to get Frank seated on the curb. Judy saw Sunny's lifeless corpse laying just twenty feet away. Oh god, oh god no, Judy thought to herself, not her too. She began to weep as she walked over to Frank. She said "We're gonna need a moment" to the medics.
Judy sat down next to Frank and just held him, she was old enough to realize that there was nothing to say. There was nothing to do. There was nothing that could be done. Frank, after receiving a near fatal blow months ago had again lost a loved one. They sat there long enough silently; Frank emotionless and mentally elsewhere and Judy weeping for him and for herself, and for her daughter and her grandchildren. It seemed as if a curse had fallen down on the MacCombers.
Judy and Frank's father-in-law moved in with the MacCombers that week because Judy was worried Frank might not be able to take it, he stopped speaking to nearly everyone unless he had to. He grew distant from the children because everytime he looked at them, he saw sadness in the eyes that so resembled their mother's beautiful brown eyes. Frank could barely look in the mirror in the mornings, he stopped running and took to having his meals (when he could eat) at his desk in his study.
Frank lost track of the days, lost track of the weeks even. He went to work in the mornings, shuffled papers at his desk until about noon when he couldn't take it anymore and went home to wallow in his misery in his study. How? Why? WHY? He wanted to know but he'd never receive any answer. He began to question everything, especially that coin from the track that day. He pulled it out of the safe and set it on his desk.
He stared at it, afraid to touch it, afraid to think of what might happen if he did. Frank was losing his mind and quickly, everyone noticed and tried to help as best they could but it was all too much for him. Frank eventually picked that coin up off his desk and he took it to the park where he first kissed Marie. He sat on the same bench and looked out at the same pond. He sat there for hours and barely moved until he suddenly stood up and hurled the quarter as hard as he could out into the middle. Francis MacComber went home that night and put a .38 revolver in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Written by:
Javier Nelson
