What Can You Not Buy With Money?

The funny thing is, Burgess and I weren’t hungry. Instead of getting in line for the fine cuisine of hospital food (despite it being French) we just sat at a booth nestled in the corner, Burgess wrote on a napkin rapidly as he began reciting a few facts on the video game project.

“So what do you think?” Burgess leaned back, tapping his pen against the table.

He had written a script of the program, that consisted of shortened codes and numbers that I had to cringe an eyebrow to analyze. I was lost. “I’ve got a lot to learn.”

There was a pause while Burgess grinned in amusement at me. “That reminds me. Where would you like to go to college?”

I stared at him, my brain cringing at how he snidely watched me. I didn't want to know the plans that were being born in his head. “I don’t know… Anyways, are we done talking about this project? What about the party next weekend?”

“Invitations were sent, right?”

“Yeah. All that’s left will be decorating.”

“I’ll have my housekeepers work on it.” Burgess went to his phone.

While he was making his orders to a housekeeper all the way back in San Diego. I looked around, having that almost instinctual feeling that I was being watched.

A woman was standing near the exit. She looked so familiar my jaw dropped and my eyes widened to the point of excruciating shock. After a few moments of us locking our gaze, I realized why I almost didn't recognize her. She had a freshly bathed face, wore crisp ironed clothes, and had a light makeup to hide the blemishes of age and stress. And she looked sober.

“…Mom?” I murmured as I went to my feet in a daze.

The woman turned swiftly and walked away.

“What did you say?” Burgess stood up to accompany me.

“That was my mother!” I bit my lip and started to where she disappeared.

“Are you sure? Why would she be in France?” We both were now running when we left the cafeteria. I saw my mother turn the corner, and I had a fleeting thought that she wasn’t real. It didn’t seem possible that she would be back in my life.

After all she had done to me, seeing her was like a sudden tidal wave of confusion. I didn’t miss her, but I wanted to talk to her. To confront her, and maybe yell at her and tell her that in a way she had helped me with my life. If she hadn’t have kicked me out of the house, I would have never met Walker, Lucy, Burgess—any of them.

“Wait!” I yelled out at the fading figure. She led us outside of the hospital, down the streets. There weren’t many people out there, but the city lights illuminated the pavements.

“Attente!” Burgess translated into French, believing that it was merely a citizen who greatly resembled her.

The woman looked over her shoulder then kept sprinting until she turned into an even emptier street.

“Hold on,” Burgess grabbed my shoulder and pulled me away from the scene. There was a black van parked, its clean paint standing out in the graffiti and trash in the alley. There stood my mother, standing with her arms folded from the cold. She didn’t wear a jacket so she rubbed herself earnestly, her lips in an open grimace as she looked to the vehicle.

The car’s doors were opened and out came three burly men. I knew something was wrong, especially when Jonathan Bohr was the final man to exit the car. Black was all they wore, their bodies blending into the night.

“Mary, run. Now.” Burgess pushed at me to go. “Get back to the hospital, and don’t stop for anything!” The men began to close in on us. “Listen to me, and leave. That’s an order, as your employer.”

Not wanting to abandon him but fearful of my own life, I confess that I ran. But I did turn around to see Burgess throw a powerful swing at a man, knocking him to the ground. One of Bohr’s henchmen was on my tail, and I wasn’t the best athlete. But I still ran as fast as I could.

Remembering that I had vocal cords, I let out blood curling screams which were choked out as I was out of breath from all the running. I almost tripped but managed to catch myself and continued to pace myself.

Until I felt a large hand grab my hair tightly and pulled my head back. Backlash was all I remembered until I felt the man grab me by the arms.

“Leave me alone, please!” I yelled out and I stomped at his foot but hissed in pain. Instead of regular dress shoes, I came into contact with steel toes. I tried to pull away but I only sprained my arms. Flailing like a fish out of water, I tried to scratch, bite, head butt, anything—but all I received was a few curses in a language I didn’t recognize to be English or French. It sounded like one of the documentaries I would hear in high school about World War II. German.

“Beeilen Sie sich oben!” The man holding me from behind yelled out.

I looked wildly at the noise of squealing tires. The van revved up to our side, the doors swinging open. “No!” I yelled out again and tried to squirm free but the large man pushed me into the car as though I was a piece of trash.

I was stuck in the middle seat, in between two emotionless men, each guarding their doors while watching me at the corner of my eye. I looked around, searching for any hope for escape but found none. My eyes landed on the review mirror of the driver who was watching me with sadism. And my eyes stretched at remembering him. He was the man that had been outside the Slaters’ home, washing the windows.

Bohr was in the passenger seat, and he turned around with a cold smile. “Hello, Ms. Hall. Merry Christmas.”

I refused to look at him as I turned around to see my mother in the back row, looking at me with similar dead eyes, my eyes dampened. “You’re my mother, for Christ sake. What’s this about?”

But she merely stared off, and I wondered if she was high on something.

“It’s all about you, Mary,” Bohr answered as he turned around to face me.

“Where’s Ben? What did you do to him?”

“He’s fine,” Bohr dismissed. “He’ll wake up with a headache in a dumpster soon. When he does, he’ll try to be a hero.”

“What are you planning, Bohr?” I leaned forward to slap him, but his goons grabbed me by the arm and restrained me. One of them put a seatbelt over me, and I glared at him with all the venom I could pull. I wished that I had Burgess’ ability to have a penetrating stare.

“Don’t worry about it; I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you. Unless you’re willing to change my mind.”

“Hilarious,” I looked away. “Whatever you’re trying to do, it’s not going to work. People are going to look for me. And when you get caught, you’re going to jail.”

“Do you honestly think that just because it’s the right thing to do, people are going to care about convicting me? If you have the right amount of money you can get away with anything. This is my world, and I’m in control. Once you get that through your head, you’ll realize how futile it is to fight on the losing side.”

“Where are you taking me?” I pressed on. “Just tell me, please.”

“Berlin.” Bohr added, “That’s in Germany, in case you didn’t know.”

“I know Berlin’s the capital of Germany, asshole.” The snarl I bared earned me a smarting smack on the side of my head by one of his henchmen, giving me a headache.

>

I wanted to throw up when I saw that the personnel on the airport runway did nothing to save me. I yelled, cried out, and pleaded, but I was forced onto an airplane and watched intensively. It was disheartening to see Bohr speaking to the bystanders, writing out a few checks here and ordering everyone around there as though he was king.

I tried to fight my way free. I even leaped out of my seat and fought with my fists, trying to move the massive guards but all I received in return was a powerful shove back into my chair. The remaining antagonists entered the plane, Bohr followed by my mother.

“Lila was right, you’re already getting on my nerves,” Bohr muttered taking a seat beside me. “Lighten up, you’re just the bait. But if you behave yourself, I may turn you into something a bit more useful. And fun.”

“I’m not going to be any part of it. Go ahead. Kill me. See if I care.” I folded my arms defiantly, though my heart raced when I proudly dismissed my life. Secretly, I was terrified that these would be the last days to breathe. Deep down, I suspected that Bohr would want to dispose of me soon and very soon.

“Stop being a drama queen,” Bohr scorned.

As the plane began to move, I had a sudden surge of terror. I jumped to my feet and ran to the closed door, trying desperately to open it. I was grabbed and they held me in a firm grip.

“No!” I screamed and kept squirming with all my might. But their solid restraint on me was enough to keep me paralyzed.

“Sedate her,” Bohr sighed.

One of the men took out a case where a syringe of clear liquid was revealed. When they removed the cap to reveal the thin needle, I let loose the loudest yell I could imagine.

“Please, no! Let me go,” I was starting to bawl like a baby. I looked at anyone, and I cried out, “Mom, why?” I turned my head away just in time to feel a thin sting in my arm, and after feeling a liquid being pushed into my body I began to feel warm and tired. It felt like a warm blanket was falling over my body and I was sinking into a bed of dreams.