Goliath Read online

  “Hi Samantha,” he said as she reached his side of the street. “I’m Henry Shaw. I need to see Tammy.”

  “That’s not her real name you know,” she replied as she continued walking.

  Henry turned and started to walk beside her. “I know, that’s the name of her cat, but I really need to see her again. She never told me her real name.”

  “Look, you were exactly what she needed at the time, but I’m not sure she wants to see you again,” Samantha said, continuing to walk.

  Henry grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. “Yeah, she wrote that on the card, but I have no idea what that means. I think she owes me more than that.”

  Samantha was familiar with the whole story because Tammy had spoken about it for hours and hours the next day. She knew that it was just supposed to be a one night stand, but she knew it had been more than that for Tammy and she was now sensing that it had been more than that for Henry as well. She felt sorry for him, but she had also been sworn to secrecy by her best friend. “I’ll tell her that you want to see her again,” she said, “but that’s all I can do. It’s up to her to decide what she wants to do. I’m sorry.”

  Henry could see in her eyes that she truly was sorry. “How can I reach you?” Henry asked as Samantha started to walk away.

  “You can’t,” Samantha replied, looking back over her shoulder. “If she wants to see you again, we’ll find you. Remember, we have your card.” She smiled at him, but Henry could sense it was almost a smile of pity. He watched her walk away and into the Chicago Tribune tower.

  Henry thought about Tammy throughout his flight back to Toronto later that day. After his flight landed, he headed to the parkade to get his car and as he drove through the bumper to bumper traffic on his way home, he thought about what he could have said differently to Samantha to convince her to let him see Tammy again, but he was at a loss.

  As he pulled into his driveway, he had an immediate sense that something was wrong. David was kicking the soccer ball alongside the garage as usual, but he headed directly toward his dad as soon as he saw the car.

  “What’s wrong?” Henry asked as he opened his car door.

  “It’s Uncle Alan,” David said. “He’s acting all crazy. He was here when I got home from school. He seems really spaced out. Robert’s inside keeping an eye on him but I couldn’t stay in there with him. I’m sorry Dad, but he was freaking me out.”

  Henry headed into the kitchen of the house and could see his brother pacing in the living room and waving his arms wildly as he was recounting some story to his mother. Alan was wearing his leather coat with numerous gold chains around his neck. He was also wearing a hat that seemed much too small perched on the side of his head, along with sunglasses that had a blue tint to them. He looked just like a pimp that Henry had recently seen in an old movie on TV.

  Robert had seen Henry come through the back door into the kitchen and quietly slipped out of the living room to talk to his dad. Alan seemed oblivious to his surroundings as he continued to talk about some fantastic adventure he’d had.

  “What’s going on?” Henry whispered to Robert as he came into the kitchen.

  “I don’t really know,” Robert replied. “He showed up this afternoon looking for you, but he’s been talking to Grandma non-stop for the last two hours. It’s almost like he’s on drugs or something. He’s completely wired. I’ve been keeping an eye on him, but he doesn’t seem violent or anything, just hyper.”

  “How did he get here?” Henry asked. “I didn’t see his car in the driveway.”

  “He came in a limousine,” Robert said. “It was like he was some kind of a rock star. The neighbours were all gawking wondering who he was. He’s carrying a wad of cash and said he gave the driver a $500 tip for his troubles.”

  “Thanks for keeping an eye on him,” Henry said. “I’m going to go talk to him. When I do, can you try to get Grandma out of there?” Robert nodded his agreement.

  “Hi Alan,” Henry said loudly as he entered the living room. “What brings you out here?”

  Alan stopped telling whatever story he was in the middle of recounting and seemed to be jolted back into realizing where he was. Robert signaled to his grandma to come into the kitchen. She hesitated, a little apprehensive about leaving Alan in his current state, but moved into the kitchen when she saw Henry gesture with his eyes.

  “Hey Bro,” Alan said, moving towards him and giving him a hug as if he hadn’t seen him in twenty years.

  Henry hugged him back just as hard, and then looked him straight in the eye. “Have you been taking your medications?”

  “I lost them,” Alan replied, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I just got a new prescription filled and had them in a bag in my car, but I can’t seem to find them.”

  “Where’s your car?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the problem. If I could find my fucking car, I could find my pills.”

  “When’s the last time you slept?”

  “I’m not sure. Probably a couple of days ago, but I’m not tired. When I try to sleep, my mind just races.” Alan slumped to the couch, having suddenly realized how tired he was.

  Henry had seen Alan in this state before, although it had been a few years. Alan’s bipolar condition was normally kept under control provided he stayed on his medications. However, when he stopped taking them, he would fluctuate wildly between being in a manic state where he couldn’t sleep at all to sleeping for days at a time. The extravagant jewelry, clothes and rock star persona were clear indications that Alan was in one of his manic states. There was no way of knowing what he could have said or done over the last few days. Henry looked with concern at Alan as he slumped back on the couch. He was out like a light within seconds, which was probably a good thing.

  Henry walked back into the kitchen. “Are you OK?” Henry asked his mother.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she replied. “What about Alan? He’s been telling me he’s been travelling around the world. He said he’s supposed to meet the President in Washington next week and then travel to Europe the following week.”

  “Don’t believe anything he’s saying,” Henry said.

  “Why would he lie?” she asked. “It doesn’t seem like he’s lying. He’s been telling me about all of the famous people he’s been meeting.”

  “He doesn’t think he is lying,” Henry said. “He’s hallucinating, so it seems like it’s actually happened to him. Remember we went through something like this with him a few years ago.” She did remember, but she never really understood it.

  They had supper as Alan continued to sleep on the couch. Henry said he would take his brother to see his doctor the next morning so he could get him back on the proper medications.

  Later that night, Henry could tell that David was still spooked by the day’s events. He stopped by his bedroom just before bedtime.

  “Are you OK?” Henry asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” David replied, but Henry could tell that he wasn’t.

  “Dad…” he started to say. “Do you think I’ll end up being crazy like Uncle Alan when I get older?”

  “He’s not crazy,” Henry said. Henry explained what a bipolar condition was, trying to remember how the doctors had explained it to him a few years ago. “Why do you think you’ll end up like Uncle Alan?”

  “Well, everyone says I’m just like Uncle Alan. I look like him and act like him when he was my age. I just wondered if I’m going to end up in the same condition as he is when I’m older.”

  “No, you’re not the same person as he is,” Henry said. “Of course we always inherit some things from our families. My dad had high blood pressure so I have a higher chance of having it. In fact, I do, but I can control it with my high blood pressure medication. It’s the same thing with other conditions like arthritis, high cholesterol or in this situation, being bipolar. And Alan did some things when he was younger that probably made his condition worse.”

  “What do you mean?” David asked.
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  “Well, don’t tell Grandma,” Henry said, “but Alan smoked a lot of pot when he was younger, and I think he still does.”

  “So his condition was caused by him smoking pot?” David asked.

  “No, I didn’t say that. Anyone can be diagnosed as being bipolar. Smoking pot didn’t cause it, but I read an article in a magazine a few months ago that said it seems that people who smoke a lot of pot experience worse symptoms than people who don’t. I think they’re continuing to research what really causes it.” Henry sensed that he had somewhat relieved David’s anxiety, but not completely. “Good night,” Henry said as he pulled David’s bedroom door closed.

  “Good night Dad.” As Henry walked away from David’s bedroom, he heard the click as David locked his bedroom door. David was obviously still a little spooked by having Alan in the house.

  Henry headed back into the living room to check on Alan, but he was still out cold. Henry knew that tomorrow would be a long day so he decided to head to bed himself, but he kept his bedroom door open so he’d hear Alan if or when he woke up. Henry fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but was jolted awake when he heard Alan arguing with someone in the living room. He glanced at the clock-radio beside his bed and saw that it was 3:15AM. He quickly got out of bed and headed out into the living room to see Alan was by himself, but he was yelling into his cell phone. The other voices that Alan had heard were actually coming from the TV which had the volume set nearly to the max. Henry grabbed the remote and turned the volume down.

  “Alan, you’ve got to keep it down. People are trying to sleep.” When Alan saw Henry, he quickly ended his telephone call.

  “Who are you arguing with at this time of night?” Henry asked.

  “It’s not the middle of the night where they are,” Alan replied, seeming reluctant to let Henry know who he was talking to. “It wasn’t important.”

  “It sure sounded important by the way you were yelling at whoever that was.” Alan looked like he was going to respond, but then seemed to stop himself.

  “So what’s going on?” Henry asked. “Mom said you were telling her weird stories about spies, world travel and meeting famous people.”

  Alan seemed confused and a little alarmed. “She’s crazy,” Alan said.

  “Right back at you,” Henry said. “I figured it was caused by you being off your meds. So, who were you yelling at over the phone?”

  Alan looked a little sheepish. “It’s someone from overseas. We’ve been working on something together.” Alan then launched into some fantastic story about people he was working with in Sweden, Greece, South Africa and numerous other countries. Henry could see Alan getting more and more worked up as he told his stories. Henry could hardly follow them as he flipped from one story to the next. Alan seemed to be getting louder and louder as he worked himself into a frenzy. Henry hugged him and tried to get Alan to calm down. It seemed to work as Alan slumped onto the couch again. Alan pulled Henry towards him and whispered into his ear, as if he was going to tell him his deepest, darkest secret.

  “Do you know the story about David and Goliath?” Alan whispered.

  “You mean the story about David killing Goliath with his slingshot?” Henry whispered back.

  “Yeah,” Alan said. “But Goliath didn’t die. People think he did, but he didn’t. He’s invincible. He can never die. Nothing can kill him.” Alan leaned in even closer. “I’m Goliath. But no one can ever know,” he whispered as he fell asleep.

  *** Chapter 7 ***

  The next morning Henry woke Alan and told him he was taking him into Toronto to see his doctor. Henry had called Dr. Sinclair the night before and had him paged through his after-hours emergency service. Sure enough, Dr. Sinclair had called him back within an hour. He normally didn’t schedule appointments at his office on Friday but would be at the hospital following up with some of his patients, so he told Henry to bring Alan there around 10AM and he would fit him in.

  Grandma was coming with them as well. Henry had indicated he could handle it on his own, but she had insisted and Henry knew it was pointless to argue with her. When Dr. Sinclair came to the waiting room to find them, he said he wanted to spend some time alone with Alan first to assess him. They returned to the waiting room about half an hour later and Alan looked a lot better.

  “Could I spend a few minutes with you now to get a more complete picture of Alan’s condition?” Dr. Sinclair asked.

  “Henry, I think you can explain to the doctor how Alan was acting yesterday,” his mother said. “I really don’t think you need me. I think I should stay here with Alan.”

  “Sure Mom,” Henry replied as he followed the doctor back into one of the examination rooms. Henry told the doctor about all of the wild stories that Alan had been telling them the day before.

  “That’s fairly typical of someone in a manic state,” the doctor said. “It appears that he hasn’t taken his medications for several days. I just gave him some medication that will hopefully start to stabilize him fairly quickly and then we’ll have to get him back on a regular dosage.” However, the doctor became much more concerned when Henry told him about Alan’s illusion that he was invincible and that he was the giant Goliath from the old David and Goliath story.

  “I’m thinking we should admit him for a few days to keep an eye on him,” Dr. Sinclair said. “If he’s under the delusion of being invincible, I’m afraid he might do something stupid and do some real harm to himself.”

  “Eileen, can you ask Alan Shaw and his mother to join us in here?” the doctor asked one of the nurses standing behind the desk. “They’re out in the waiting room.” When they arrived, Dr. Sinclair explained everything to them all. He particularly made sure that Alan understood what was going on.

  “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble,” Alan said to Henry and his mother when they were getting ready to leave.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Henry said. “I’m sure you’ll be back to normal within a few days.”

  Henry drove his mother back home and then headed into work. He had already missed an important meeting that morning with Greg Blackwood. He knew that family took precedence over work and had already left a voice-mail indicating he wouldn’t be able to make the meeting, but he still felt guilty. When he arrived at the office, he headed to Greg Blackwood’s office to let him know the situation and apologize for missing the meeting. When he got there, Greg wasn’t in his office but he could see him with several associates from the litigation department in the boardroom just down the hall. Since the boardroom had glass walls, Henry could see that the meeting looked like it was wrapping up. Sure enough, Greg saw Henry and gave a signal that he’d be there in five minutes.

  Henry headed into Greg’s office to wait. Greg’s office had numerous bookshelves made of solid mahogany to match the huge desk and was one of the largest offices within the firm, indicative of his importance. Henry had been in Greg’s office several times before but this was the first time he noticed a collection of old guns inside glass cases sitting on top of some of the shelves. He was trying to read the inscription on an old musket when Greg walked in.

  “I didn’t know you were a gun collector,” Henry said.

  “I’m not,” Greg said. “They were my father’s and they were left to me when he passed away. Personally, I hate them and I sold or gave away most of them but I decided to keep a few of the real old ones that were most important to him. He knew the history of every gun in his collection and he would spend hours telling me about each one.”

  “I’m sorry I missed our meeting this morning,” Henry said. He explained about the family medical crisis that had occurred, although he left out most of the details.

  “I hope your brother will be OK,” Greg said. Henry could tell he really meant it.

  “You didn’t miss much at the meeting this morning. The Finance Committee had a few concerns about our tech budget for the merger, but I convinced them everything was OK. There’s nothing to worry about.”<
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  There was a soft knock on the door and Henry turned to see Samuel Richards, one of the founding partners of the firm standing in the doorway. “Congratulations on winning the Westbrook case yesterday,” Mr. Richards said. “That was an unexpected win. I hear you were quite impressive in the courtroom.” Greg walked over and shook Mr. Richards’ hand and whispered something to him.

  “You’re kidding, but I’m sure you helped him along the path,” Mr. Richards said as he gave Greg a pat on the shoulder before continuing on his way.

  “So, did you slice and dice some insurance guy on the stand like you normally do?” Henry asked.

  “No, I actually lucked out on this one. We couldn’t get our hands on any solid evidence to support our claim. No letters we could produce. No chain of emails or voice-mail recordings that would prove that the hospital had screwed up our client’s treatment, and that the insurance company knew about it.”

  “So, how did you win it?” Henry asked.

  “I had a sense that one of the Vice Presidents knew the whole story, including the stuff not written down,” Greg replied, “so I called him to the stand and only asked him one question.”

  “Could you tell me what happened? was all that I asked him.”

  “And he spilled the whole thing?”

  “Well, he started by just repeating the same lines all of the others had said, almost word for word. I’m sure just like their lawyer had told them to. But when he finished, I didn’t ask him another question. I just looked at him. After a dead silence of about 30 seconds, he started telling more. Whenever he would stop, I would just look at him. And then he’d tell more. This happened several times until he’d spilled the whole thing.”

  “Amazing,” Henry said. “Didn’t the defence lawyers object?”

  “They tried, a few times, but the judge just asked him if he had anything more to add and he’d start talking again. Sometimes you get the sense that someone just wants to do the right thing and all you have to do is stand back and let them do it. I think if I had tried to pull it out of him by badgering him with questions, he would have become defensive and clammed up.”