The blood drained from Ron’s face. “A saw,” he repeated with dismay. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“You think I’d pass up this chance?” Dick questioned. “Not on your life. I need some lung tissue.”
“Jesus H. Christ!” Ron murmured. “You’d better promise again not to say anything about this ever!”
“I promised already,” Dick said with exasperation. “If I find what I think I’m going to find, it will be for my own collection. Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to know.”
Ron shook his head. “Sometimes I think you’re one weird dude.”
“Let’s get the saw,” Dick said. He handed the flashlight to Ron and started for the entrance.
6:40 P.M.
O’HARE AIRPORT, CHICAGO
Marilyn Stapleton looked at her husband of twelve years and felt torn. She knew that the convulsive changes that had racked their family had impacted most on John, yet she still had to think about the children. She glanced at the two girls who were sitting in the departure lounge and nervously looking in her direction, sensing that their life as they knew it was in the balance. John wanted them to move to Chicago where he was starting a new residency in pathology.
Marilyn redirected her gaze to her husband’s pleading face. He’d changed over the last several years. The confident, reserved man she had married was now bitter and insecure. He had shed twenty-five pounds, and his once ruddy, full cheeks had hollowed, giving him a lean, haggard look consistent with his new personality.
Marilyn shook her head. It was hard to recall that just two years previously they had been the picture of the successful suburban family with his flourishing ophthalmology practice and her tenured position in English literature at the University of Illinois.
But then the huge health-care conglomerate AmeriCare had appeared on the horizon, sweeping through Champaign, Illinois, as well as numerous other towns, gobbling up practices and hospitals with bewildering speed. John had tried to hold out but ultimately lost his patient base. It was either surrender or flee, and John chose to flee. At first he’d looked for another ophthalmology position, but when it became clear there were too many ophthalmologists and that he’d be forced to work for AmeriCare or a similar organization, he’d made the decision to retrain in another medical specialty.
“I think you would enjoy living in Chicago,” John said pleadingly. “And I miss you all terribly.”
Marilyn sighed. “We miss you, too,” she said. “But that’s not the point. If I give up my job the girls would have to go to an inner-city public school. There’s no way we could afford private school with your resident’s salary.”
The public-address system crackled to life and announced that all passengers holding tickets for Champaign had to be on board. It was last call. “We’ve got to go,” Marilyn said. “We’ll miss the flight.”
John nodded and brushed away a tear. “I know,” he said. “But you will think about it?”
“Of course I’ll think about it,” Marilyn snapped. Then she caught herself. She sighed again. She didn’t mean to sound angry. “It’s all I’m thinking about.” she added softly.
Marilyn lifted her arms and embraced her husband. He hugged her back with ferocity.
“Careful,” she wheezed. “You’ll snap one of my ribs.”
“I love you,” John said in a muffled voice. He’d buried his face in the crook of her neck.
After echoing his sentiments, Marilyn broke away and gathered Lydia and Tamara. She gave the boarding passes to the ticket agent and herded the girls down the ramp. As she walked she glanced at John through the glass partition. As they turned into the jetway she gave a wave. It was to be her last.
“Are we going to have to move?” Lydia whined. She was ten and in the fifth grade.
“I’m not moving,” Tamara said. She was eleven and strong-willed. “I’ll move in with Connie. She said I could stay with her.”
“And I’m sure she discussed that with her mother,” Marilyn said sarcastically. She was fighting back tears she didn’t want the girls to see.
Marilyn allowed her daughters to precede her onto the small prop plane. She directed the girls to their assigned seats and then had to settle an argument about who was going to sit alone. The seating was two by two.