I'll See You Soon
Summary: When Gary Hobson was falsely accused of Frank Scanlon's murder and escaped from custody, only one person in Chicago unquestionably believed in his innocence. This very short story was inspired by "Fatal Edition" and examines from Marissa's POV her feelings when Gary was a fugitive.
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to whoever created them. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made. Some of the dialogue that appears in this story is not mine, but belongs to the writer of the Early Edition episode "Fatal Edition."
Author: Tracy Diane Miller E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com
I'll See You Soon
Her heart was pounding and her breathing labored as she hurried from the hardware store towards the alley. He had pleaded with her to bring some bolt cutters and money from the cash register when he called her. His voice sounded so desperate, so exhausted. She knew that he felt alone and lost. He said that he was counting on her. Of course, she responded to his plea without hesitation. She wouldn't let him down.
When she reached the alley, she called his name repeatedly until he answered and approached her. She took his arm. He felt so cold.
The news reports painted the portrait of a dangerous fugitive, a menace to society. She knew the truth. She knew that he was a man with a gentle soul. He was a man who helped people. He wouldn't hurt anyone.
Through a bizarre twist of fate, he was being hunted like an animal.
He believed that the paper had wanted him to be arrested, but she couldn't believe that. She couldn't believe that the paper wanted him in jail. Not a paper that had anointed him a champion of the downtrodden and had come to him for several years with an unspoken trust in his ability to save people.
But no one else believed him. He told her when she visited him in jail before his arraignment that he told his lawyer about the paper, but the lawyer thought he was crazy. And the paper hadn't showed up at the police station or the loft.
He told her that the paper showed up at the court house. He had jumped from the court house window to freedom. He needed to prove his innocence.
She was afraid, afraid that he'd get hurt. That's why she begged him to turn himself in and let the police do whatever they were going to do. But he wouldn't do that. He told her that he was the only person he could trust right now. He kept saying that Joe, the parking lot attendant, was involved in all this somehow, that Joe had to know something. He would wait until after dark to find Joe. But she knew that he was so cold, the city was out looking for him, and that he may not make it until dark. The edge in her voice as she uttered these words to him was born from her fear.
He asked for the money. She removed the bills and handed them to him. He was so cold. He insisted that she go home, but she asked him how she would know if he was okay. "You won't." He replied. He reminded her that the police would probably be watching after her so he wouldn't be able to call. Then he said that he had to go because this was too dangerous. She heard his footsteps as he started to walk away.
"Gary." She called his name as she choked back her tears. She felt a pang in her chest.
He proceeded towards her; he gently cupped her face. Then he kissed her. "I'll see you soon." He promised. She knew that his words were meant to comfort her, to reassure her, but all she felt at that moment was fear.
She stood there for a long time after he left. Finally, she left the alley. But she wasn't ready to go home. Instead, she returned to McGinty's. She tried making herself a cup of tea. Her grandmother always said that prayer and tea could calm a troubled spirit. But her hands shook so violently. She couldn't make her tea. She closed her eyes and said a prayer asking God to watch over him, to protect him, and to keep him safe.
The local evening news was saturated with reports about him. Detective Armstrong was heading the task force as he called it. He cautioned the citizens of Chicago to keep their doors locked and to report to the police any information about Gary Hobson. Anger percolated underneath her usual quiet veneer. Those reports made Gary sound like a psychopath in front of all Chicago.
She flipped the channels. A weather report mentioned blustering winds and frigid over night temperatures. Her heart sank. He was out there somewhere. She knew that he had no place to go, no one to turn to. She said another prayer that somehow he'd find shelter tonight. The thought of him sleeping on the streets caused fresh tears to well in her eyes.
The next day, the police questioned her. A chill coursed through her body as the police reminded her that Gary would be found and brought into custody by any means necessary. They insisted that it was in his best interest if Gary turned himself in and that she should tell him that. Defiantly, she told them that she couldn't tell Gary anything since he knew that the police were watching and he wouldn't contact her. They asked whether he had been in touch with her so far, but she angrily asked why she should tell them anything after those news reports that made Gary sound like a psychopath. She adamantly told them that Gary wouldn't kill anyone, but that he had to look for the real killer himself because the police couldn't be bothered. However, when the police insisted that they could help, she did tell them Gary's theory about the parking lot attendant.
Many, many hours passed. Long and agonizing hours with no news. Then she heard a news report that Gary had been cornered in the Sun Times building, but he escaped. She let out a relieved sigh.
But fear still strangled at her psyche. The police were in hot pursuit and they vowed to bring Gary into custody by any means necessary. She was terrified that he would be shot. She closed her eyes and said another prayer for his safety.
Soon the day was transformed into night as darkness blanketed Chicago. She had tried eating all day, but her stomach churned violently and was unforgiving in her desire for nourishment.
Finally, there was a breaking news report. Details were sketchy, but she heard Gary's name mentioned and something about a shooting at the Cicero train yard. Her heart was pounding as she called for a cab and headed for the train yard.
When she exited the cab at the train yard, she called out for anyone to help her; she told a police officer that she was looking for Gary Hobson, that she needed for someone to take her to Gary Hobson, she needed to know that he was all right.
That was when she heard his voice, beautiful, melodious to her ears as he whispered her name. She followed his voice and soon she felt his arms as they enveloped each other in an embrace.
It was over.
And prayer had worked, her faith, always her touchstone, hadn't failed her. God had watched over him and kept him safe.
And Gary kept his promise that he would see her soon.
The End.
Summary: When Gary Hobson was falsely accused of Frank Scanlon's murder and escaped from custody, only one person in Chicago unquestionably believed in his innocence. This very short story was inspired by "Fatal Edition" and examines from Marissa's POV her feelings when Gary was a fugitive.
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to whoever created them. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made. Some of the dialogue that appears in this story is not mine, but belongs to the writer of the Early Edition episode "Fatal Edition."
Author: Tracy Diane Miller E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com
I'll See You Soon
Her heart was pounding and her breathing labored as she hurried from the hardware store towards the alley. He had pleaded with her to bring some bolt cutters and money from the cash register when he called her. His voice sounded so desperate, so exhausted. She knew that he felt alone and lost. He said that he was counting on her. Of course, she responded to his plea without hesitation. She wouldn't let him down.
When she reached the alley, she called his name repeatedly until he answered and approached her. She took his arm. He felt so cold.
The news reports painted the portrait of a dangerous fugitive, a menace to society. She knew the truth. She knew that he was a man with a gentle soul. He was a man who helped people. He wouldn't hurt anyone.
Through a bizarre twist of fate, he was being hunted like an animal.
He believed that the paper had wanted him to be arrested, but she couldn't believe that. She couldn't believe that the paper wanted him in jail. Not a paper that had anointed him a champion of the downtrodden and had come to him for several years with an unspoken trust in his ability to save people.
But no one else believed him. He told her when she visited him in jail before his arraignment that he told his lawyer about the paper, but the lawyer thought he was crazy. And the paper hadn't showed up at the police station or the loft.
He told her that the paper showed up at the court house. He had jumped from the court house window to freedom. He needed to prove his innocence.
She was afraid, afraid that he'd get hurt. That's why she begged him to turn himself in and let the police do whatever they were going to do. But he wouldn't do that. He told her that he was the only person he could trust right now. He kept saying that Joe, the parking lot attendant, was involved in all this somehow, that Joe had to know something. He would wait until after dark to find Joe. But she knew that he was so cold, the city was out looking for him, and that he may not make it until dark. The edge in her voice as she uttered these words to him was born from her fear.
He asked for the money. She removed the bills and handed them to him. He was so cold. He insisted that she go home, but she asked him how she would know if he was okay. "You won't." He replied. He reminded her that the police would probably be watching after her so he wouldn't be able to call. Then he said that he had to go because this was too dangerous. She heard his footsteps as he started to walk away.
"Gary." She called his name as she choked back her tears. She felt a pang in her chest.
He proceeded towards her; he gently cupped her face. Then he kissed her. "I'll see you soon." He promised. She knew that his words were meant to comfort her, to reassure her, but all she felt at that moment was fear.
She stood there for a long time after he left. Finally, she left the alley. But she wasn't ready to go home. Instead, she returned to McGinty's. She tried making herself a cup of tea. Her grandmother always said that prayer and tea could calm a troubled spirit. But her hands shook so violently. She couldn't make her tea. She closed her eyes and said a prayer asking God to watch over him, to protect him, and to keep him safe.
The local evening news was saturated with reports about him. Detective Armstrong was heading the task force as he called it. He cautioned the citizens of Chicago to keep their doors locked and to report to the police any information about Gary Hobson. Anger percolated underneath her usual quiet veneer. Those reports made Gary sound like a psychopath in front of all Chicago.
She flipped the channels. A weather report mentioned blustering winds and frigid over night temperatures. Her heart sank. He was out there somewhere. She knew that he had no place to go, no one to turn to. She said another prayer that somehow he'd find shelter tonight. The thought of him sleeping on the streets caused fresh tears to well in her eyes.
The next day, the police questioned her. A chill coursed through her body as the police reminded her that Gary would be found and brought into custody by any means necessary. They insisted that it was in his best interest if Gary turned himself in and that she should tell him that. Defiantly, she told them that she couldn't tell Gary anything since he knew that the police were watching and he wouldn't contact her. They asked whether he had been in touch with her so far, but she angrily asked why she should tell them anything after those news reports that made Gary sound like a psychopath. She adamantly told them that Gary wouldn't kill anyone, but that he had to look for the real killer himself because the police couldn't be bothered. However, when the police insisted that they could help, she did tell them Gary's theory about the parking lot attendant.
Many, many hours passed. Long and agonizing hours with no news. Then she heard a news report that Gary had been cornered in the Sun Times building, but he escaped. She let out a relieved sigh.
But fear still strangled at her psyche. The police were in hot pursuit and they vowed to bring Gary into custody by any means necessary. She was terrified that he would be shot. She closed her eyes and said another prayer for his safety.
Soon the day was transformed into night as darkness blanketed Chicago. She had tried eating all day, but her stomach churned violently and was unforgiving in her desire for nourishment.
Finally, there was a breaking news report. Details were sketchy, but she heard Gary's name mentioned and something about a shooting at the Cicero train yard. Her heart was pounding as she called for a cab and headed for the train yard.
When she exited the cab at the train yard, she called out for anyone to help her; she told a police officer that she was looking for Gary Hobson, that she needed for someone to take her to Gary Hobson, she needed to know that he was all right.
That was when she heard his voice, beautiful, melodious to her ears as he whispered her name. She followed his voice and soon she felt his arms as they enveloped each other in an embrace.
It was over.
And prayer had worked, her faith, always her touchstone, hadn't failed her. God had watched over him and kept him safe.
And Gary kept his promise that he would see her soon.
The End.