Chapter 15
Thomas walked quickly through Union Square, making his way toward the shops just below the plaza.
“Where are we going?” Raymond asked.
“To buy me a new outfit,” Thomas replied.
“In a sportswear store?”
“I think dark, comfortable clothes will be better suited to breaking and entering.”
“Arsène managed all right in his suit,” Raymond protested.
After a quick stop at the Green Street apartment, where Thomas changed, they arranged to be dropped off six blocks from the Columbarium.
Raymond argued that getting any closer would arouse suspicion once people heard about the crime—a theory he’d picked up from a TV show.
They waited for the car to drive off before setting out.
Raymond stopped short at the intersection of Geary Boulevard and Beaumont Avenue, outside Mel’s Drive-In.
“A real drive-in diner!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with childlike glee as he marveled at the blue neon sign. “It’s just like the ones in 1950s movies. Come on. It’s a bad idea to attempt your mission on an empty stomach. You could faint!”
Thomas looked at his watch. It wasn’t yet midnight. Despite his joking tone, his father wasn’t completely wrong.
He opened the door to the diner and saw that not a single detail had been missed. A row of green pleather booths ran along the window. Matching chairs clustered around Formica tables, and taller chairs lined up along the counter. A brightly colored jukebox stood at the far end of the room.
“Come look at this!” Raymond shouted. “Your mom and I used to love to dance to ‘Rock Around the Clock’! Do you have any change?”
Thomas fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a quarter, which he deposited in the machine.
The Bill Haley song filled the room, and the customers sitting at the counter turned briefly to look at him, amused.
Raymond and his son sat down at a booth.
A waitress wearing a pink top and white apron brought Thomas his meal and a cup of coffee.
“I feel like I’m twenty-five again,” Raymond mused as he stroked the seat beneath him.
“Did you go to diners much?”
“I went to the movies every Thursday night and spent the whole time dreaming of having dinner in a place like this. When I left the theater with my friends, we’d walk the streets like we owned them—we thought we were stars.
The world was ours for the taking. You can’t imagine how happy it makes me to be here.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen one not on the silver screen. ”
Thomas studied his father’s face and decided he looked even younger. Was it because he’d finally realized a lifelong dream? Or was he really rocking backward around the clock?
When they reached the gates to the park just after midnight, Thomas realized that they were much taller than he remembered. The vertical bars offered no holds for his feet. He couldn’t grip the points at the top without risking serious injury, either.
“If only I could give you a boost,” Raymond grumbled. “It’s maddening.”
“I wouldn’t complain if I were you,” Thomas said. “But I’m not sure how we can get around this.”
He walked over to one of the two stone columns that flanked the gates and noticed some crevices.
“This could work,” he said as he began climbing.
“Don’t go breaking your neck,” his father warned, then went to wait inside the park.
Thomas jumped down onto the wet grass, and they headed toward the administrative buildings. Raymond led the way, on the lookout for a guard. Thomas followed.
“Are you sure this is the right window?”
“As sure as I am that I’m your father, and the resemblance is undeniable.”
Thomas searched the flower bed for a rock large enough to break the window. “Let’s hope there’s not an alarm.”
Raymond gestured at him to stop. “Wait! I hear something. Go hide. I’ll find out what’s going on.”
The only comfortable place Thomas could hide was behind the bench in the middle of the open lawn, which he’d have to cross without any cover, and the quarter moon shone brightly enough to betray any shadow in the park.
His only other option was to lie down between two beds of rosebushes.
He bit his tongue to keep from crying out as the thorns cut his ankles and forearms.
“All clear, false alarm. I must have dreamt it. Or maybe it was just a rodent,” Raymond announced happily. “It’s crazy how well I can hear now. Almost too well. Hey, where are you?”
“Here,” Thomas groaned as he got to his feet.
“What are you doing on the ground?”
“My hands are bleeding. Less than ideal for my concert!”
Raymond glanced at the wounds and rolled his eyes.
“Just a few tiny scratches. You’re such a baby!”
“Did you at least check to see if there’s an alarm?” Thomas asked, rubbing his wrists.
“I’ll go find out. But only because you asked so nicely.”
Raymond walked along the building toward the main door until Thomas coughed, as if urging him to stop. He looked at his son in confusion for a moment, then realized what he wanted.
“Of course! Why do things the hard way?”
He came back and walked through the wall as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Thomas waited impatiently. A few moments later, his father appeared at the window.
“Nice night, huh?” he said dreamily, looking up at the sky.
“Could you, I don’t know, maybe try to concentrate while I’m risking my life for you?”
“I’m trying to lighten the mood. You’re so grumpy! Anyway, I’m no expert, but I inspected everything carefully and I didn’t find an alarm. No contact monitors on the windows or doors, and no motion detectors.”
“You seem to know a lot about the subject.”
“I had an alarm installed at your mother’s place after I left. Toward the end of our marriage, I wasn’t good for much, but I did manage to make her feel safe. The technician who installed it explained everything we might need to know and more. So, are you going to break the window or not?”
After one throw of a stone, the sound of shattered glass, the opening of a window, and a single graceful leap, Thomas finally landed in the Dignity Memorial office.
“Is it in this cabinet?” he asked, pointing toward a corner near the door.
“Yes, I’m crammed between a pile of bills and a mountain of brochures. And they dare call themselves ‘Dignity Memorial’!”
Thomas waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark, then got to work. He grabbed a solid-silver letter opener off the desk and pried open the lock. The door swung open, almost falling off its hinges.
“That wasn’t exactly discreet. The manager will know precisely what happened when he comes in tomorrow morning.”
“I think the broken window will provide him with his first clue,” Thomas replied coolly.
He found the urn on one of the shelves and breathed a sigh of relief.
“You’re a strange one. You seem happier to see my ashes than you were to see me when I appeared in the office at your mom’s place.”
“Make jokes all you want, but I wasn’t kidding when I said I wouldn’t abandon you here.”
“It was a poor joke. People make those sometimes when they can’t find the words to say what they really feel.”
Thomas picked up the rock off the rug.
“Should we kill two birds with one stone?” he asked thoughtfully. “I mean, I’ve already taken the risk. So, why not go find Camille’s urn and complete the mission?”
Raymond floated over to the window and looked out toward the mausoleum.
“Because she’s not here anymore.” He sighed. “I could feel it as soon as we arrived. That’s why I’ve been a little on edge. I’m sorry.”
“Where is she?” Thomas asked.
“I don’t know. Her husband must have suspected something.
You look so much like me; maybe that got him thinking.
That stubborn man has beaten me at every turn.
He separated Camille and me once, and now he’s kidnapped her.
He may have even scattered her ashes already.
In any case, there’s nothing we can do. Let’s go.
Tomorrow, you can take me to the beach, and we’ll say goodbye one last time.
I don’t want to go back to Paris. I’d rather stay here, with the ocean air, where Camille lived. You understand that, don’t you?”
“And what about me? Where will I go to pay my respects when I need to talk to you? Who will I ask advice from when you’re gone?”
“I’ve been gone for five years, Thomas. You’ve done quite well without me. We’ll find each other in your music. One day, you’ll play for a woman, and you’ll turn to her for advice. And then you’ll play for your children. That’s life—I have to go so you can have your turn.”
Raymond stepped away from the window to hug his son tightly, their arms intersecting slightly.
“Go on, dry your eyes, son. Let’s not waste the hours we have left together. We’ve had a good time, time we wouldn’t have dared to hope we’d get. I traveled the world from conference to conference in my life,” he said. “But the best journey I ever took was being your father.”