Chapter Eighty-Six
According to classical mythology, Sisyphus had angered Zeus and as punishment, he had been forced to push a large rock up a steep hill. With sweat glistening from his brow and muscles screaming from fatigue, the king toiled at his burden, the rock inching closer and closer towards its destination. However, just as victory appeared imminent, the defiant rock rolled back down. Sisyphus had to start over. And each time he assumed that his task neared completion did that rock have other intentions crashing once more to the ground below. Perhaps Fate had sealed her own covenant with Zeus. Maybe with a satisfied laugh followed by a powerful breath, Fate had exhaled summoning a strong wind that propelled the rock down the hill every time.
But what god's wrath had a reluctant hero incurred that he'd have his own "rock" to keep crashing down upon him?
Mud green eyes widened with shock. The color drained from his face. Gary's gaze focused on the headline on page five, the telling missive staring back at him mockingly.
How would he be able to handle this?
"Meow." Cat offered innocently.
Gary looked at Cat. "What are you trying to do to me, huh?" He accused angrily.
"Meow." Was Cat's response.
A brief silence.
"This wasn't here before." Gary mumbled to himself. "I did this." He realized belatedly.
Since receiving his early edition these past few weeks, Gary had learned that his actions in performing saves sometimes had unexpected consequences; namely, new stories emerging in the place of former headlines. It was wonderful when a feature about a budget meeting changed the story of a person killed in a hit-and-run accident. But when the reverse occurred, when a mundane story about a library dedication disappeared and suddenly a fatal story like this one appeared, he knew that he was in trouble. Big trouble.
Perhaps there were lessons that he was expected to learn with this heroic business. Perhaps his role in this whole "scheme" was about more than preventing disasters then moving on to the next one.
Except he had no idea what these lessons were or whether or not he was even learning them.
The Paper followed its own conscience. But it didn't have to live with the consequences of ill-fated decisions. He did.
It didn't take long for Gary to realize that this new story, his dilemma, was connected to Candace and Alex and what happened earlier at the hospital. He was the domino that had triggered this deadly chain reaction. He should have been able to stop this. He should have just saved Alex in that supermarket and walked away. Instead, he had bonded with a special little boy and the child's special, and very beautiful, mother. His brain was telling him that he was just Candace and Alex's friend. Yet, his heart was imploring him for more, much more.
But did he have the right to happiness at the expense of someone else's life?
He needed to fix this, somehow. Maybe he didn't actually need to be there to save her life. Maybe he could call someone and offer an anonymous tip. But who could he call? Who would believe him? Maybe he could call her, warn her. No. No, that wouldn't work. She wouldn't believe him.
Gary looked at his watch. He didn't have much time. And he didn't have a plan.
With heart pounding, Gary jumped from the couch and rushed out the door. He was determined to defy the Paper's deadly prophecy, save her life, and change the future.
Except he was about to change his own.
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Lyndon violently slammed down the phone onto the cradle. The phone shook from the power of the tremor, let out a short wail, and then fell silent.
"Imbeciles! Worthless imbeciles!" Lyndon said angrily, the force of his words stinging the air. Alone in his office, the mogul surveyed his carefully constructed plan, a plan that was unraveling before his very eyes. Failure? No....no, that word was foreign to his vocabulary. He didn't amass a substantial fortune by allowing himself to even consider the possibility of failure.
But the little voice in the back of his head tormented him by reminding him of his greatest failure, his son. Just as quickly, he dismissed that thought; he had nothing to do with Alan becoming a disgrace to the family name. That was Penelope's doing. She coddled Alan too much, made the boy weak and useless. And now because of that, he had to clean up behind Alan's messes. The boy had every opportunity in life. How many times had he told Alan to travel in the right circles, to stick with his own kind? Alan had his pick of women from the best families, the daughters of privilege and breeding. These girls knew what their roles were. They knew that they had an obligation to host charity functions and to support their husband's business aspirations, and most importantly, to produce a male heir to carry on the line. Alan had his every opportunity to choose a suitable woman to marry. Why did he have to choose *that* woman?
If Alan wanted to sow his wild oats, have his fun with Candace, then fine. So long as he was discreet and didn't cause the family any embarrassment, Lyndon had no problem with that. But Alan didn't have to marry that girl. She was nothing but a greedy opportunist, a pathetic leech perfected contented to attach herself to their family without so much as trying to learn the right way of doing things. She hungered for the social standing and financial rewards but scoffed at the responsibility. Whenever Penelope included Candace in committee meetings for the Daughters of the American Revolution, the girl acted bored and disinterested. Still, despite his disdain for the girl, Lyndon tried to remember that once she gave birth to his grandson, he would be able to mold the child as his next heir. He was devastated when he learned that his grandson was "damaged" and he hated Candace even more because of that. Who knows what kind of lifestyle she had led before she met Alan? She probably used drugs and alcohol. That's why her son turned out the way he did. There was no way that little boy would ever amount to much. The smartest thing that Alan had ever done in his life was to divorce her. Yet, even after the divorce, Lyndon was willing to help her out financially, for the sake of the family name, but she turned down his offer. What she didn't expect was that he'd catch her carrying on with her lover, that little boy's real father. Did Candace really believe that he would be so stupid not to notice the uncanny resemblance after he saw Hobson and wouldn't be able to put the pieces together? No wonder why she wouldn't accept his generosity. She and Hobson had concocted a scheme to use the child thinking that they could get a bigger slice of the pie. Well, he was going to make certain that they both paid dearly for trying to make a fool out of him. Hobson was about to learn a lesson he'd never forget. And Candace, well, she would understand what it meant to really be alone.
An evil and satisfied grin crossed Lyndon's face. He opened the file marked "Gary Hobson" then picked up the phone.
"Yes. It's me." Lyndon said to the unidentified party on the other end as he fingered the file. "About that 'problem' we were discussing. No...no, I don't want you to wait. I want you to do it. Do it now."
* * * * *
Like a modern day Hermes without the winged shoes but with unchallenged agility, Gary quickly hurried towards Wacker. His heart was pounding and he could feel the sweat dripping from his body, sweat produced from acute fear, but he knew that he couldn't stop. He still didn't have a plan how to save her life. All he knew was that The Paper said that she would die if he didn't get there in time.
Upon entering the building, Gary removed The Paper from the back pocket of his jeans. The deadly headline stared back at him: "Social Worker Found Brutally Beaten In Her Office."
According to classical mythology, Sisyphus had angered Zeus and as punishment, he had been forced to push a large rock up a steep hill. With sweat glistening from his brow and muscles screaming from fatigue, the king toiled at his burden, the rock inching closer and closer towards its destination. However, just as victory appeared imminent, the defiant rock rolled back down. Sisyphus had to start over. And each time he assumed that his task neared completion did that rock have other intentions crashing once more to the ground below. Perhaps Fate had sealed her own covenant with Zeus. Maybe with a satisfied laugh followed by a powerful breath, Fate had exhaled summoning a strong wind that propelled the rock down the hill every time.
But what god's wrath had a reluctant hero incurred that he'd have his own "rock" to keep crashing down upon him?
Mud green eyes widened with shock. The color drained from his face. Gary's gaze focused on the headline on page five, the telling missive staring back at him mockingly.
How would he be able to handle this?
"Meow." Cat offered innocently.
Gary looked at Cat. "What are you trying to do to me, huh?" He accused angrily.
"Meow." Was Cat's response.
A brief silence.
"This wasn't here before." Gary mumbled to himself. "I did this." He realized belatedly.
Since receiving his early edition these past few weeks, Gary had learned that his actions in performing saves sometimes had unexpected consequences; namely, new stories emerging in the place of former headlines. It was wonderful when a feature about a budget meeting changed the story of a person killed in a hit-and-run accident. But when the reverse occurred, when a mundane story about a library dedication disappeared and suddenly a fatal story like this one appeared, he knew that he was in trouble. Big trouble.
Perhaps there were lessons that he was expected to learn with this heroic business. Perhaps his role in this whole "scheme" was about more than preventing disasters then moving on to the next one.
Except he had no idea what these lessons were or whether or not he was even learning them.
The Paper followed its own conscience. But it didn't have to live with the consequences of ill-fated decisions. He did.
It didn't take long for Gary to realize that this new story, his dilemma, was connected to Candace and Alex and what happened earlier at the hospital. He was the domino that had triggered this deadly chain reaction. He should have been able to stop this. He should have just saved Alex in that supermarket and walked away. Instead, he had bonded with a special little boy and the child's special, and very beautiful, mother. His brain was telling him that he was just Candace and Alex's friend. Yet, his heart was imploring him for more, much more.
But did he have the right to happiness at the expense of someone else's life?
He needed to fix this, somehow. Maybe he didn't actually need to be there to save her life. Maybe he could call someone and offer an anonymous tip. But who could he call? Who would believe him? Maybe he could call her, warn her. No. No, that wouldn't work. She wouldn't believe him.
Gary looked at his watch. He didn't have much time. And he didn't have a plan.
With heart pounding, Gary jumped from the couch and rushed out the door. He was determined to defy the Paper's deadly prophecy, save her life, and change the future.
Except he was about to change his own.
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Lyndon violently slammed down the phone onto the cradle. The phone shook from the power of the tremor, let out a short wail, and then fell silent.
"Imbeciles! Worthless imbeciles!" Lyndon said angrily, the force of his words stinging the air. Alone in his office, the mogul surveyed his carefully constructed plan, a plan that was unraveling before his very eyes. Failure? No....no, that word was foreign to his vocabulary. He didn't amass a substantial fortune by allowing himself to even consider the possibility of failure.
But the little voice in the back of his head tormented him by reminding him of his greatest failure, his son. Just as quickly, he dismissed that thought; he had nothing to do with Alan becoming a disgrace to the family name. That was Penelope's doing. She coddled Alan too much, made the boy weak and useless. And now because of that, he had to clean up behind Alan's messes. The boy had every opportunity in life. How many times had he told Alan to travel in the right circles, to stick with his own kind? Alan had his pick of women from the best families, the daughters of privilege and breeding. These girls knew what their roles were. They knew that they had an obligation to host charity functions and to support their husband's business aspirations, and most importantly, to produce a male heir to carry on the line. Alan had his every opportunity to choose a suitable woman to marry. Why did he have to choose *that* woman?
If Alan wanted to sow his wild oats, have his fun with Candace, then fine. So long as he was discreet and didn't cause the family any embarrassment, Lyndon had no problem with that. But Alan didn't have to marry that girl. She was nothing but a greedy opportunist, a pathetic leech perfected contented to attach herself to their family without so much as trying to learn the right way of doing things. She hungered for the social standing and financial rewards but scoffed at the responsibility. Whenever Penelope included Candace in committee meetings for the Daughters of the American Revolution, the girl acted bored and disinterested. Still, despite his disdain for the girl, Lyndon tried to remember that once she gave birth to his grandson, he would be able to mold the child as his next heir. He was devastated when he learned that his grandson was "damaged" and he hated Candace even more because of that. Who knows what kind of lifestyle she had led before she met Alan? She probably used drugs and alcohol. That's why her son turned out the way he did. There was no way that little boy would ever amount to much. The smartest thing that Alan had ever done in his life was to divorce her. Yet, even after the divorce, Lyndon was willing to help her out financially, for the sake of the family name, but she turned down his offer. What she didn't expect was that he'd catch her carrying on with her lover, that little boy's real father. Did Candace really believe that he would be so stupid not to notice the uncanny resemblance after he saw Hobson and wouldn't be able to put the pieces together? No wonder why she wouldn't accept his generosity. She and Hobson had concocted a scheme to use the child thinking that they could get a bigger slice of the pie. Well, he was going to make certain that they both paid dearly for trying to make a fool out of him. Hobson was about to learn a lesson he'd never forget. And Candace, well, she would understand what it meant to really be alone.
An evil and satisfied grin crossed Lyndon's face. He opened the file marked "Gary Hobson" then picked up the phone.
"Yes. It's me." Lyndon said to the unidentified party on the other end as he fingered the file. "About that 'problem' we were discussing. No...no, I don't want you to wait. I want you to do it. Do it now."
* * * * *
Like a modern day Hermes without the winged shoes but with unchallenged agility, Gary quickly hurried towards Wacker. His heart was pounding and he could feel the sweat dripping from his body, sweat produced from acute fear, but he knew that he couldn't stop. He still didn't have a plan how to save her life. All he knew was that The Paper said that she would die if he didn't get there in time.
Upon entering the building, Gary removed The Paper from the back pocket of his jeans. The deadly headline stared back at him: "Social Worker Found Brutally Beaten In Her Office."