***Buenos Aires***
Jonathan woke up, and realized he was handcuffed to a bed. He looked around. He was in a dark room, with very little light. He had a headache, so he tried to go back to sleep, and figure it out the next morning. He was very confused on details.
He had no idea that he was presumed dead.
He slept another several hours, and then daylight came, and he was able to see. He had been left some water bottles and a loaf of bread. He found a note, at the end of the bed.
"I took your plane, and I am going to go live your life, Mr. Hart. Think your wife will buy that I had plastic surgery? By the time they find you, I will have wormed my way in."
He was determined to get out of here and stop whoever this was that was impersonating him.
He sat up and did some research on his surroundings. He was handcuffed to the bed, but the bed wasn't anchored. He stood up, and got the mattress off, and picked up the bed frame and took it across the room. He maneuvered it so that he could open a closet door. In the closet, he found a step stool. He pulled it out and climbed to the top step. He found a tool box on the top shelf at the back.
He grabbed it and then climbed down. He opened it to find a set of keys. He tried each one and none of them fit the handcuffs. He found a hammer and chisel and used that to break the chain on the handcuffs. At least now he was free from the bed.
He put the keys in his pocket, and realized that he still had his wallet. He grabbed the bottles of water and carefully opened the door. He found a nice little house on the other side of the door.
He found a sliding door that had been left open, and cut through the screen to get out.
He walked a few blocks, and then hitched a ride to his hotel.
He was determined to get to Jennifer one way or another.
***Willow Pond***
Jennifer was exhausted. She had basically withdrawn into a shell of herself when she heard that Jonathan had "died". She hadn't spoken in days, and she was barely eating. Max was upset too, but he was trying to take care of her. He felt like Mr. H. would want him to look after Jennifer in a case like this.
Jennifer's friends had come over, but she had refused to see them. She wouldn't see anyone. He talked to her about services for Jonathan, and she just shook her head no. Max released a statement that services would be family only.
Jonathan's right hand man, Stanley Frieson stopped by. Jennifer was on the couch when Max let him in.
"Look, kid, she's not talking. Not to me, not to anyone. So, if you want her to tell you anything, your best bet is to write it down and see if she will point to the answer".
"Thank you".
He did just that. He went and sat by Jennifer and told her how sorry he was about Mr. Hart. She stared straight ahead and nodded once.
He wrote down what he had come to ask her.
"The board of directors wants to know how you want to handle things. I can run things in his absence, if that's ok with you".
She pointed to Yes.
"Will you be making any appearances at the office?"
She pointed to No.
"Ok, well I hope you are doing well, and I will check on you again next week. And Mrs. Hart, all of us at Hart Industries loved him too. He was a good man".
She nodded once, and her eyes filled with tears.
Stanley kissed her cheek and left.
"Goodbye Mrs. Hart".
Max and Freeway came and sat next to her on the couch. Freeway jumped up in her lap and curled up. She barely acknowledged him.
Jennifer's dad had called and spoke to her on the phone. Max had explained that she wasn't talking, so he would put her on speakerphone so she could hear him.
"I understand. She did the same thing when her mother died. It's just how she handles things".
Max put him on speakerphone.
"Hi sweetheart, I hope you can hear me. I love you, and I know that you loved Jonathan very much. I am so sorry, sweetheart. If you need me to come, I will. I don't want to impose on you though. I love you Jennifer. I know that you will find your way through this. I also know that Jonathan has already started a poker game with the greatest people in Heaven, and he's already winning them under the table. I love you, Jennifer".
She stared straight ahead, as the tears fell down her cheeks. Max hung the phone up, and came and sat by her again.
"Are you hungry Mrs. H.?"
She shook her head no.
"Can I get you anything?"
She shook her head no. He got up and headed to the kitchen.
Inside, she was screaming. She kept replaying what he asked her.
"Can I get you anything?" "Can I get you anything?"
Inside her head, she was answering him.
"Last week would be nice".
***Buenos Aires***
Jonathan was dropped off at his hotel, and called the hospital. He asked to speak to his friend Greg, who had operated on him.
"I'm sorry, he's in surgery. Can I have him call you?"
"Better yet, tell him to come to the Four Seasons, room 412. He operated on me yesterday, and I would like for him to examine the sutures".
"Will do. His surgery should be finished within the hour."
"Thank you".
Jonathan laid back on the bed and tried to relax. As long as he was still, he wasn't in pain.
He turned the TV on, and found an American channel.
He watched for a little bit, and then grew bored with it.
He picked up the phone and tried to call home. Busy signal. He checked his watch. It was past closing time in Los Angeles, so he knew nobody would be at the office. He tried Max's private line, and got no answer.
He hung up.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. He got up and opened it. It was Greg.
"Come on in, thanks for coming".
"Buddy, are you sure you're ok?"
"I'm fine. How did you know?"
"Well, it's been all over the news".
"It's amazing what they call news these days, isn't it? A guy gets knocked out and kidnapped in front of a hospital and it makes the news. Back in Los Angeles, it wouldn't even be noticed".
"Maybe not, but a plane crash would be".
"What plane crash?"
"Yours".
"That's impossible. My plane didn't crash. It got me here just fine".
Greg grabbed the remote and changed the channel. He found another all American news channel. It was their lead story.
"International businessman Jonathan Hart is presumed dead after his plane exploded over the Atlantic ocean yesterday. It is not known why Mr. Hart was in Buenos Aires. According to the FAA, his plane was cleared for takeoff from Buenos Aires to go to Los Angeles, California. He is survived by his wife, Jennifer Edwards Hart. According to a statement released by his companion Max Brenneman, funeral services will be family only".
Jonathan was stunned. He grabbed the phone and called the house again. Busy signal again. He called the bedroom number, and got a busy signal. He called Max's number and it just rang and rang and rang.
He told Greg about being knocked out and waking up chained to a bed, and escaping and hitching a ride back here.
"Am I safe to fly?"
"Yes, I believe so."
He wrote him a prescription for medicines and told him to fill it back in the states.
Jonathan called and tried to book a flight. As soon as he said his name, they told him that they couldn't sell him the ticket because Jonathan Hart was dead.
He hung up.
"Jonathan, I have a buddy over at the Embassy. I am going to see if he can do us a favor."
He grabbed the phone and called him.
Greg explained that he had a friend who was in Buenos Aires, was an American, and was presumed dead, but was in fact, very much alive.
"He cannot buy an airline ticket to get home, because the airlines think he is dead. What options does he have?"
They talked for a few minutes and then he hung up.
"He said you can do one of two things. Go to the airport in person, and try to buy a ticket with your passport and pay for it right there. Or, he suggested that we alter your passport."
"Alter it how?"
"Off the record, he suggested we put your picture over my face on my passport, and then you fly home with a ticket in my name."
"Where do we get these passports?"
"Simple. I know a guy".
Greg helped him up, and they left the hotel. They headed to Greg's house, and he had his compadre come visit them.
An hour later, Jonathan had a new passport with a fake name.
Greg drove him to the airport, and he bought a first class ticket to the United States.
***Bel Air***
Jennifer took a shower, and put on some pajamas. She climbed into bed, took a sleeping pill and turned out the light. She didn't want to think, feel, or know. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare and have her husband back. She could barely breathe without feeling like her life was over, and she didn't care if she never woke up again.
Max was handling the estate. He had filed a death certificate, and he had contacted Jonathan's lawyer. There wasn't much to do on that front, because everything reverted to Jennifer automatically. Except for when he was using the phone, they were keeping the phone off the hook. Jennifer couldn't stand to hear it ring.
He was really worried about her, but he didn't know what to do. He didn't agree with not having a funeral, but it was her choice. He knew that not having one though, was just her way of avoiding dealing with it.
He checked on her throughout the night, and she was sleeping each time he did. He finally laid down to sleep himself. He grabbed his favorite picture of the two of them, and stared at it.
"I miss you, my son. I always loved you like you were my own. I promise you, I will do my best to take care of her".
He put it back on his nightstand, and then tried to sleep.
***New York***
Jonathan's plane had landed in New York, and he had a 5 hour layover.
He had made his way to the gate and got some food along the way, and then sat down to wait for his next plane.
As far as the airlines knew, his name was Greg Baxter.
About 15 minutes before they were to board, he heard an announcement.
"Greg Baxter, please report to the desk".
Jonathan went to the desk.
"Sir, there are some questions about your passport. May we see your ID please?"
This was a problem. He didn't have an ID that said he was Greg Baxter.
"Well, I was mugged in Buenos Aires, and they took it."
"Without an Id sir, I am afraid I cannot let you on the plane".
"Sir, I don't live here. How am I supposed to get back to Los Angeles?"
"I'm sorry sir, without an ID, I cannot help you".
"Can you tell me where a phone is?"
"Certainly. Right over there against the wall".
He went to the phone and called collect. Busy signal.
"What the hell is going on at my house?"
He briefly considered calling the Los Angeles police and having them do a welfare check. But they wouldn't be able to report back to him what they found.
He took a chance and called Hart Industries.
He asked the receptionist for Stanley Frieson. She put him on hold and connected the call.
"This is Stanley Frieson".
"Stanley, it's Jonathan Hart. I need your help".
"It's who?"
"Jonathan Hart".
"Whomever you are, this isn't funny. You are sick and twisted."
He hung up.
He went to an ATM and withdrew some money, and tried to buy a seat on the plane.
"I'm sorry, it's full".
"Ok, when is the next flight to Los Angeles?"
"Two days from now, at midnight".
He went back to the phone and called the train station. There weren't any trains leaving all week that ran from New York to Los Angeles.
He sat down and tried to figure out what to do. It was 11 a.m. in Los Angeles.
He couldn't rent a car, because they would want ID. Plus, he didn't want to drive across the country by himself. It would take him at least 2 days. He couldn't do buses for the same reason. No trains. The airlines didn't believe him that he was Greg Baxter. Surely, they wouldn't believe him that he was Jonathan Hart.
He was stuck in New York.
***The next day***
Jennifer slept 16 hours on that sleeping pill. She woke up and immediately got on the treadmill. She put some music on, and chose to listen to his favorite songs. It was the 4th song in, when she heard it. As "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" played and filled the room, her tears began to fall. Rage began to well up inside of her. She started running faster, and harder, and with all her strength. She kept going even after the song was over, until she finally collapsed.
Max heard the commotion, and went upstairs to check on her. He found her lying unconscious on the floor by the treadmill.
He quickly put the phone back on the hook and called 911.
He scooped her up and took her downstairs, and laid her on the couch.
He ran back upstairs and took the phone off the hook again.
The paramedics came and gave her oxygen, and she woke up.
She barely responded to them, but she would nod her head or shake her head.
She refused treatment, so Max thanked them and sent them on their way.
She fell over on the couch and he covered her with a blanket and stayed there with her till she fell asleep.
***New York***
Jonathan had slept in one of the uncomfortable gate chairs all night.
He decided to try and purchase a ticket to Los Angeles using his real ID.
He waited till new employees came on shift, and then went to the desk.
"Yes, sir, I need to purchase a ticket for the next flight to Los Angeles. I can't find mine, and I just really want to get home".
"We have one seat available in first class. $1200."
He pulled out his credit card, and handed it to the agent. It went through, and he handed him his ticket.
"We board in 30 minutes".
"Thank you".
He sat down and opened his wallet. He stared at the picture of him and Jennifer. "I'm almost home, darling".
***Later that afternoon***
He rested a lot on the flight, but he woke up about an hour before they landed and was too keyed up to go back to sleep. He couldn't wait to see Jennifer.
He thought about what he was going to do when he got off the plane. He was going to head to baggage claim and see if his luggage had been turned in as unclaimed. Then, he was going to take a cab to Hart Industries. He would shower in his private shower, and then head home to Willow Pond.
The plane landed, and he was the first one off the plane. He headed straight to baggage claim, and found that his luggage had already been delivered to his house.
"Perfect".
He took a cab to Hart Industries, and got out.
He went up to his office and found Stanley Freison sitting at his desk.
"What are you doing in here?"
"Ok, the phone call was bad enough. But for you to get plastic surgery to impersonate a dead person, that's just sick. You disgust me. I am calling security and having you thrown out".
"Stanley, it's me, Jonathan. Not kidding. This isn't a joke".
"Ok, fine, I'll play along. Why did you go to Buenos Aires?"
"Well, I told everyone including Jennifer, it was for business. But in actuality, it was to have a surgery".
"I don't believe you".
"Ask me something else".
"Ok fine. What's your dog's name?"
"Freeway".
"Too easy. Everyone knows that".
"Ask me something else".
"What is the name of the opera that is Mrs. Hart's favorite?"
"It's something in German. I can't pronounce it to save my life, but I know it's 5 hours long".
Stanley stared at him.
"I don't know if that's the correct answer or not, actually".
"Well, then why did you ask me that question?"
"I couldn't think of anything else."
"Why don't you believe me?"
"Because the real Jonathan Hart died a few days ago. His plane blew up over the Ocean. No more plane, no more Mr. Hart, no more anything. I am not buying that a person could have walked away from that".
"That's because I didn't walk away from that. I was never on the plane".
"But you were declared dead. Max did it. I know because the bank called and asked for a copy of the death certificate and said one had been filed."
"Look, I'm telling you, I am Jonathan Charles Hart, and I am alive, not dead."
He went to the computer.
"I will type my password into this computer and prove to you that I am Jonathan Hart. If it unlocks, it's me".
"Nope. I had the IT guy override the password a few days ago so that I could change the password to my password".
"Damn".
"Ask me what my wife's favorite restaurant is".
"Let me guess, you are going to say La Scala, just like every other woman in this city?"
He nodded.
Jonathan was defeated.
"Well, I don't know what else to say to prove to you that I am Jonathan Hart. So, nevermind. Enjoy running my company. As soon as this is straightened out, I will be back".
He turned and walked out.
He flagged a cab down, and got in.
"3100 Willow Pond Road".
He was heading home.
***Willow Pond***
Jennifer had taken another sleeping pill a few hours ago. Max had taken her to bed, and covered her with the blanket. He had turned the fan on just the way she liked it, and left her a glass of water.
She was running on fumes. Too sad and exhausted to eat, exhausted because she wasn't eating. She was exercising every time she thought about Jonathan, which was practically all the time.
Max figured she would sleep the rest of the night and well into tomorrow.
He closed the door and headed downstairs. He heard the intercom buzzing.
"Yes?"
"Delivery for Max Brenneman".
"Come on up".
He opened the gate and headed to the front door.
He opened it and went to get his wallet to tip the delivery guy. When he came back, Jonathan was standing in the doorway.
He looked like death warmed over, and was very pale.
"Who are you?"
"Max, it's me".
"Mr. H.?"
Jonathan nodded.
"Prove it".
"Ask me something only I would know".
"Ok. What's the name of the diner I took you to when you were selling newspapers?"
"CJ's".
"That's right! Mr. H., it is you!"
Jonathan went to him and hugged him.
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Long story. Very long story. I'll tell you all about it, Max, as soon as you go get Jennifer for me".
"Mr. H., she isn't doing so well. She hasn't spoken since she heard the news. Not a word at all. She just points yes or no, or nods. But no speaking. She just took a sleeping pill, and will sleep for hours.
"Well, I at least want to see her. I need a shower too."
"Mr. H., what happened to you?"
"Max, I found out a few weeks ago that I had a cancerous tumor. So, I flew to Buenos Aires to have the surgery done by a Navy buddy of mine. I didn't tell you or Jennifer because if I did, she would get upset, and after what happened to her last month, I wanted her to stay happy. As I was leaving the hospital, someone kidnapped me, and then took my plane home. My guess is he was going to say he was me, and try to move in on my life. Somehow the plane exploded over the Ocean. He died, and everyone thinks I did. So, after I escaped, my buddy Greg helped me get a fake passport with his name and my picture and I flew to New York. We changed planes and they wouldn't let me on the second plane without an ID. So, I spent the night in the airport, and then purchased a ticket with my real name when new employees came on duty. Then, I took a cab to Hart Industries, and tried to convince Stanley that I'm Jonathan Hart, but he didn't believe me. I took a cab here. I am hungry, and I want a shower, and I want a kiss from my wife".
"That's some story, Mr. H. Glad to have you back".
"Thanks, Max".
He went upstairs and found Jennifer sleeping. He sat on the bed and kissed her a few times. She looked so frail and thin.
He got up and went to take a shower.
Jennifer was dreaming.
Jonathan was back and was holding her and kissing her. And then he just got up and walked away.
She was sad again.
Her dream ended, and she continued to sleep. Jonathan's shower ended, and he went downstairs to get something to eat.