Sons of Fortune Read online

  “Mr. Cartwright.”

  “Mr. Goldblatz, I must apologize, a family problem has arisen and I won’t be able to make our meeting this afternoon.”

  “I see,” said Goldblatz, not sounding as though he did.

  “Mr. Goldblatz,” said Nat, “I’m not in the habit of playing games, I have neither the time nor the inclination.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting you did, Mr. Cartwright,” said Goldblatz curtly.

  Nat hesitated. “My son has run away from Taft and I’m on my way to see the principal.”

  “I’m so…so…sorry to hear that,” Mr. Goldblatz said, his tone immediately changing. “If it’s any consolation, I also ran away from Taft, but once I’d spent all my pocket money I decided to go back the following day.”

  Nat laughed. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

  “Not at all, perhaps you’d give me a call and let me know when it’s convenient for us to meet.”

  “Yes of course, Mr. Goldblatz, and I wonder if I might ask a favor.”

  “Certainly.”

  “That none of this conversation is reported to Ralph Elliot.”

  “You have my word on that, but then, Mr. Cartwright, he has no idea that I planned to meet you in the first place.”

  When Nat put the phone down, Su Ling said, “Wasn’t that a bit of a risk?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” said Nat. “I have a feeling that Mr. Goldblatz and I have discovered something we have in common.”

  As Su Ling drove through the Taft gates, memories came flooding back to Nat: his mother being late, having to walk down the center aisle of a packed hall when his knees were knocking, sitting next to Tom, and twenty-five years later, accompanying his son back on his first day. Now he only hoped his boy was safe and well.

  Su Ling parked the car outside the principal’s house, and before she had turned the engine off, Nat spotted Mrs. Henderson coming down the steps. He felt his stomach churn until he saw the smile on her lips. Su Ling jumped out of the car.

  “They’ve found him,” Mrs. Henderson said. “He was with his grandmother, helping her with the laundry.”

  “Let’s both go straight to the hospital and see your father. Then we can decide if one of us should go on to Lakeville and check up on Lucy.”

  “Lucy would be so sad if she knew,” said Annie. “She has always adored Grandpa.”

  “I know, and he’s already begun planning her life,” said Fletcher. “Perhaps it would be better not to tell her what has happened, especially as she obviously won’t be able to visit him.”

  “You may be right. In any case, he did go and see her last week.”

  “I didn’t know that,” said Fletcher.

  “Oh yes, those two are plotting something,” said Annie as she drove into the hospital parking lot, “but neither of them is letting me in on the secret.”

  When the elevator doors opened, the two of them walked quickly down the corridor to Harry’s room. Martha stood up the moment they walked in, her face ashen. Annie took her mother in her arms as Fletcher touched Jimmy’s shoulder. He looked down at a man whose flesh was drawn and sallow, his nose and mouth covered with a mask. A monitor beeped beside him, the only indication that he was still alive. This was the most energetic man Fletcher had ever known.

  The four of them sat around the bed in silence, Martha holding her husband’s hand. After a few moments she said, “Don’t you think one of you should go and see how Lucy is getting on? There’s not a lot you can do here.”

  “I’m not moving,” said Annie, “but I think Fletcher ought to go.”

  Fletcher nodded his agreement. He kissed Martha on the cheek, and looking at Annie said, “I’ll drive straight back just as soon as I’ve made sure that Lucy is OK.”

  Fletcher couldn’t recall much of the journey to Lakeville as his mind wondered from Harry to Lucy, and for a moment to Al Brubaker although he found that he was no longer preoccupied with what the chairman of the party wanted.

  When he reached the road sign announcing the intersection for Hotchkiss, Fletcher’s thoughts returned to Harry and how they had first met at the football game. “Please God let him live,” he said out loud as he drove into his old school and brought the car to a halt outside the entrance to the infirmary. A nurse accompanied the senator to his daughter’s bedside. As he walked down the corridor of empty beds, he could see in the distance a plastered leg, hooked high into the air. It reminded him of when he had run for the school presidency and his rival had allowed the voters to sign his cast on the day of the election. Fletcher tried to remember his name.

  “You’re a fraud,” said Fletcher even before he saw the huge smile on Lucy’s face and the bottles of soda and bags of cookies scattered all around her.

  “I know, Dad, and I even managed to miss a calculus exam, but I must be back on campus by Monday if I’m to have any chance of becoming class president.”

  “So that’s why Grandpa came down to see you, the sly old buzzard,” said Fletcher. He kissed his daughter’s cheek and was eyeing the cookies when a young man walked in and stood nervously on the other side of the bed.

  “This is George,” said Lucy. “He’s in love with me.”

  “Nice to meet you, George,” said Fletcher smiling.

  “You too, Senator,” the young man said as he extended his right hand across the bed.

  “George is running my campaign for class president,” said Lucy, “just like my godfather ran yours. George thinks that the broken leg will help bring in the sympathy vote. I’ll have to ask Grandpa for his opinion when he next comes up to visit me—Grandpa’s our secret weapon,” she whispered, “he’s already terrified the opposition.”

  “I don’t know why I bothered to come down to see you at all,” said Fletcher, “you so obviously don’t need me.”

  “Yes I do, Dad. Could I get an advance on next month’s allowance?”

  Fletcher smiled and took out his wallet. “How much did your grandfather give you?”

  “Five dollars,” said Lucy sheepishly. Fletcher extracted another five-dollar bill. “Thanks, Dad. By the way, why isn’t Mom with you?”

  Nat agreed to drive Luke back to school the following morning. The boy had been very uncommunicative the previous evening, almost as if he wanted to say something, but not while both of them were in the room.

  “Perhaps he’ll open up on the way back to school, when it’s only the two of you,” suggested Su Ling.

  Father and son set out on the journey back to Taft soon after breakfast, but Luke still said very little. Despite Nat’s trying to raise the subjects of work, the school play and even how Luke’s running was going, he received only monosyllabic replies. So Nat changed tactics and also remained silent, hoping that Luke would, in time, initiate a conversation.

  His father was in the passing lane, driving just above the speed limit, when Luke asked, “When did you first fall in love, Dad?” Nat nearly hit the car in front of him, but slowed down in time before drifting back into the middle lane.

  “I think the first girl I really took any serious interest in was called Rebecca. She was playing Olivia to my Sebastian in the school play.” He paused. “Is it Juliet you’re having the problem with?”

  “Certainly not,” said Luke, “she’s dumb—pretty, but dumb.” This was followed by another long silence. “And how far did you and Rebecca go?” he finally asked.

  “We kissed a little, if I remember,” said Nat, “and there was a little of what we used to call in those days petting.”

  “Did you want to touch her breasts?”

  “Sure did, but she wouldn’t let me. I didn’t get that far until our freshman year at college.”

  “But did you love her, Dad?”

  “I thought I did, but that bombshell didn’t truly hit me until I ran into your mother.”

  “So was Mom the first person you made love to?”

  “No, there had been a couple of other girls before her, one in Vietnam, and ano