CHAPTER THREE Delivery Boy

Part 2.

He drove around town for close to two hours, trying every place he could think of to find Jack. The kids who were drinking behind the high school practically laughed in his face. Here was straight arrow Vallone in the market for smoke, but he had no idea about how to go about getting some. They finally told him to try over by the highway garage.

It turned out that the highway garage was deserted, with the exception of one startled couple making out in the relatively luxurious back seat of a Buick. So he headed over to the diner to see if anyone there had seen Jack.

When he pulled up he recognized the phalanx of SUVs that indicated that the soccer team was holding court, but he went in anyway. There had never been any friendship between Jack and this crew, just mutual toleration. Over junior year what had been a prickly accommodation deteriorated into mutual loathing. When Jack had something going for him...accomplishments in two sports, a more than decent looking girlfriend who was popular herself, a way of answering questions in trig that was downright funny, and helped to pass the time...then they left him alone. This was fine with Jack because, like Eddie, he thought they were jerks.

But over the last year, as Jack's social status slipped, and then fell off the radar screen, they sensed red meat, and he became an irresistible target. This was despite the fact that they were some of his best customers. What changed was that Jack had become one of the hired help, like the Mexican housemaid who made up their beds or the pool guy. Only things never went too far. They all knew that Jack had come close to dismembering two guys at a football game. They'd made the mistake of thinking Ginny was by herself and had pressed their attentions after she'd told them to take a hike.

It turned out to be a waste of time to ask the people hanging out in the diner anything. They just wanted to know if Eddie would also pick some up for them and then bring it back, if they gave him a tip. But on his way out he ran into Pasternak, another one of the baseball players, who said Jack could sometimes be found behind the strip mall, in back of the dry cleaners.

"What are you bothering with him for?" Gary asked. They were all disgusted with "no-show Bauer", who had blown the best chance any of them would ever have of getting anywhere in the State high school baseball tournament. Some of the guys, Pasternak included, had been counting on a good showing there to get the scouts interested. "Eddie, you're not..."

He was looking at Eddie with more concern than disgust. Gary was all right. He'd just thought that a baseball scholarship would be his ticket into college. Now he didn't have one.

"No, it's not like that. I just need to find him."

"Give it up, Eddie. The guy's gone. He's moved on to harder stuff, is what I hear. He's even got guys working for him now, he doesn't do much retail anymore. I know you were friends but..."

"Thanks for the lead, Gary."

But that didn't pan out either. He tried the abandoned dairy farm, which would soon be turned into another housing development, and over towards the water treatment plant, and every other place he could think of. But there was no sign of Jack, and no one else that he ran into had seen him.

Discouraged and tired, he was about to give up and head back home when he thought of one last place. There was a small park down by the river with a boat launch that was pretty isolated. To reach it you had to go down a winding, gravel road. There were no houses nearby with insomniac old ladies who would be interested in reporting suspicious activity. Eddie decided to give it a shot and then call it a night.

He parked his car in the moon-shadow cast by the picnic pavilion. It was light enough to see that and the building that contained the public restrooms, but that was about it unless you moved down towards the water, so that was the direction he headed in. There was no sign of Jack's car and he had finally run out of options. He couldn't think of a single other place to look, and there was no guarantee that Jack hadn't circled back to one of the places he'd already checked out. They could go around and around in circles like this all night long, and already it was a little after one.

As he got closer to the water he emerged from the shadows into moonlight. After taking a few more steps he heard an unmistakable metallic "click" that made him stop dead, even before he was told to. He even raised his hands before he was told to. He was scared. Maybe this guy wasn't Jack, and he'd stumbled into something that wasn't even close to being any of his business.

"Who the fuck are you?" said a voice from behind him. Someone emerged from the bushes on his left.

"Jack, its me, Eddie."

"Turn around."

He turned so they faced each other. Jack looked absolutely serious. Eddie had no doubt the gun was loaded. He watched as Jack hesitated, for just a second, and then lowered it, eventually tucking it behind, into the waistband of his jeans. Eddie had to stop himself from reminding Jack to put the safety on. Then his mind cleared from the initial shock of seeing Jack calmly hold a loaded gun on him. And he was furious.

"Eddie, what in hell are you doing here?" Jack asked, equally angry.

"I might ask you the same question."

He wanted to ask Jack what were they doing here, like this. He wanted to reach out and shake him so they could both wake up before it was too late. This was like acting out a story in a comic book instead of being who and what they both really were.

"You stupid fuck, you're gonna get us both killed."

"What's in the backpack, Jack?"

"None of your damn business. Now get the fuck out of here before its too late."

"I can't believe this. Are you out of your mind? Do you want to go to jail?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere I don't want to. But you're leaving. Right now."

"You could kill somebody with that thing, Jack. Don't you understand that? You're Jack Bauer, not some gang-banger from South Central LA. What are you doing pointing a gun at anybody? What are you doing pointing a gun at me? Doesn't any of this seem a little strange to you?"

"Eddie, I got over that a long time ago."

Jack was angry but he was also worried. This was the last thing, the very last thing, that he had expected. Now, on top of everything else he had to worry about tonight, he had to get Eddie out of here. The narrow window he had to do that in was closing rapidly. Yet Vallone wanted to stand there and have a debate about it. Why, of all nights, did Eddie have to pick tonight to try and rescue him? His timing was perfect; perfectly bad. Why did he have to try and push himself in where he wasn't wanted?

"Eddie," he said, lowering the tone of his voice and changing tactics, "Please, just leave. I don't have time to listen to one of your sermons right now. I might be risking jail, but you're risking getting us both killed. Now just go."

But, for once in his life, Eddie wasn't following instructions.

"I'm not leaving, Jack."

Jack dragged his hands through his hair in frustration. He was boiling over with frustration, almost dancing on his toes with it.

"Eddie, for God's sake, get outta here!" He didn't know how to sound any more serious or emphatic. "I don't want you around," he said slowly and angrily. "I don't even like you anymore. We're not friends. You are nothing to me. Now just leave."

"Make me."

Vallone was totally unprepared when Jack's fist connected with his jaw. He went down hard. Jack loomed up over him.

"You stupid fag." His voice dripped with contempt. "Look at you, laid out on the ground like a girl, after one sucker punch. You dumb prick, you have no idea what you walked into here, or what you're talking about. You think I'm stupid? I know exactly what I'm doing. I haven't got time to explain things to you, or to get your permission to do what I have to do."

Eddie stood up. He was wobbling, but he stood up.

"If the money was that tight, why didn't you tell me?" he asked, rubbing his throbbing jaw. "We could have gone to my Dad. We could have figured something out. Why did you think you had to do this?"

"You don't get it, do you?" Jack said, totally incredulous that Vallone still didn't have a clue. Wasn't he speaking English?

"I'm not a kid anymore, Eddie. I can't go hat in hand to your father, and ask him for help. Men don't do that. They either take care of their families, or they aren't worth a warm bucket of spit."

"Your father would be so happy to hear you say that, and to see how you're doing it."

Jack launched himself, hitting Eddie as hard and as viscously as he could, repeatedly landing blows in his face, in his stomach, any place his fists could connect with some part of Eddie's body. Vallone was bigger, and in fair shape himself. But he didn't have the seething anger that was erupting out of Jack. All the rage he had swallowed for the last year, and, perhaps, for even longer than that, was suddenly there, available to him, and he was using it to pound Eddie's face in.

"What kind of shit is this?" a voice said. Jack felt someone grab his arms and he was pulled to his feet.

He looked around, yelling "Let me go," and yanked his arms free.

Vinnie was the one who had pulled him off Eddie. Pittz was standing over Eddie, pointing a gun at his head, smiling faintly. Eddie had managed to turn over on his stomach, grabbing his midsection in pain as he struggled to rise to his knees.

"Who is this guy?"

"He's just a friend of mine. He's all right."

"A friend? Could have fooled me. Looked to me like you were trying to kill him."

"We had an argument. It's got nothing to do with you. I'll get your stuff."

He started to walk back, to pick up his backpack, when he heard that 'click' again, the sound of a gun being cocked. Now it was his turn to stop dead in his tracks.

"You've got one minute to explain what was goin' on here."

Jack turned around slowly. Making his shoulders relax, making sure his hands were clearly visible he tried to look smaller. Whatever you do, he said to himself, don't look threatening. His father's service revolver felt cold up against his back. He could feel its coldness even through his shirt. But Vinnie had the drop on him, and Pittz was still holding his piece about three feet from Eddie's head. He wasn't anywhere near fast enough to pull it out and fire and then turn and take care of that second gun.

Jack smiled.

"Man, I'm telling you, its nothing. He shanked my girlfriend. Got more off of her in one night than I've gotten in the last week. She has to tell me about it, of course. I can't let that go. Even if she is basically a slut."

He called over to Eddie, who was now on his knees.

"I mean, couldn't you have just waited until I was done with the bitch? Couldn't you have just waited a week or so?"

Vinnie looked at Eddie.

"What's your side of this?"

Eddie wiped some of the blood from his nose, but didn't say anything.

"I can't hear you," said Vinnie, starting to get angry again.

"If she's a slut," Eddie said finally, "then what the fuck do you care who shanks her?"

"Good point," said Vinnie. He uncocked his gun, motioned to Pittz to do the same, and looked at Jack.

"Where's my stuff?"

Jack silently picked up the backpack by the shoulder straps and handed it to Vinnie, who quickly opened it.

"Two grass, one coke, just like you wanted."

Vinnie grunted his agreement, tossing the packages one by one to Pittz, who placed them in a backpack of his own.

This was the bad part, Jack thought to himself. They had what they wanted. The only thing preventing them from shooting both of them right then and there was the assurance that Jim would kill them in a very unpleasant way if they did. The street dealers had to know that the delivery boys were protected, or else no body would do deliveries anymore, and Jim would end up riding around all day and all night dropping off this shit himself.

"Here's the money." He gave Jack a brown paper bag secured with rubber bands.

Eddie watched in dazed wonderment while Jack counted through more cash money than he'd ever seen in his life.

"Five thou, its all here," Jack said finally, putting it away and slipping the bag over his shoulder. "Next time, there'll be somebody different. Jim's cool about it."

"Next time, keep your personal shit out of my business. You got a bone to pick with somebody, do it on your own time, not when you're doing business with me. You got that, Jack?"

"Yeah, you're right, I know. It won't happen again."

"See to it, then. And you," he said, turning to Eddie, who hadn't made it past his knees yet. "Don't mess with another man's bitch, no matter how easy she is. Jack's right. Show some respect, and just wait your turn."

For some reason both he and Pittz thought that was very funny.

"Christ, in addition to everything else, I have to teach these punks how to act," he said, as they finally sauntered off.

Jack waited until he couldn't hear their car anymore.

"Do you have any idea, any conception, of how lucky we just were?" he asked through clenched teeth. "If he had been drunk, or high, or just in a foul mood, we'd both have a bullet in the back of the brain right now."

"Why would he do that?" asked Eddie, bewildered. Jack finally helped him to his feet.

"Because he's a loon. Because we annoyed him. But, mostly, because I let my shit interfere with his business. He has a point. These guys never let anything, ever, interfere with business."

He stopped to take a good look at Eddie.

"You look awful," Jack observed. There was a bad cut above his left eye, which was quickly turning blue. His lip was split. There were other, less serious cuts on his face. The blood from his nose was caked and drying down one side of his chin.

"You should know. You did it."

"Get cleaned up as best you can," Jack said. "Then go home, Eddie. Just tell your folks you got jumped and see if you can get them calmed down enough to leave it at that, so they don't try and call out the National Guard."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not done yet. I've got to make some other stops, and then I have to drop the money off. Then I'm done."

"Jack, listen to me."

"Not now, please, just spare me." He was so tired of this. "Look, you satisfied your curiosity, ok? You took a little walk on the wild side. Now you've got something to tell your grandkids about.

"I do this for the money, Eddie, that's all. When I don't need the money, I won't do it anymore. That's about where things stand. I'm sorry if that shakes you up, or you can't deal with it. But that's where I am."

He turned and started walking away, back towards the shadows he had so quietly emerged from.

"The hospital called."

Jack stopped moving.

"They couldn't reach you at home," Eddie continued nervously, "so they called the second number, the number at our house. Your Mom gave it to them in case they needed to reach you and you weren't home. I guess she figured if you weren't home, or working, you'd probably be with me."

Jack turned around. Eddie wondered how Jack could hold himself perfectly still, but still turn around.

Eddie licked his lips,

"They said you'd better get over there."

Jack didn't say anything for a moment.

"I was just there, not four hours ago," he said at last.

"They told Mom it could be anytime, or it could be three days from now. She just started to go downhill fast." He paused again. "I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack looked off to the side for a moment, then back at Eddie.

"Tell them you couldn't find me. You got jumped and you couldn't find me. When I get done, then I'll go over there."

"Jack, you're kidding."

"Eddie, I've got five thousand dollars of somebody else's money here. I've got other people waiting for me to show up. You think I can just stop off somewhere, that they won't start looking for me if I don't show up when they expect to see me?"

"You can't not go over there, Jack."

"She's out of it, Eddie," he said, feeling very, very old. "She isn't going to be awake. She might as well be dead already, for all she'll know I'm there."

"You don't know that, Jack. You don't know that for sure. You've got to go see her, "Eddie said quietly.

Jack didn't speak for a few moments. When he did speak, his voice was very soft.

"I don't want to, Eddie."

"I know that. But you've got to go anyway. I'll go with you, Jack. It'll be ok."

When Jack didn't speak again, Eddie added "We'll go after you get done, ok?"

Eddie suddenly sensed what the real danger was here. Jack could finish what he was obviously determined to do, and just keep moving. He'd concluded that his mother was already dead or, at least, would never know whether he was there or not. He could just get in that car, point it in one direction or another, start driving, and never look back. There was nothing holding him here. He'd made sure of that over the last year. And if he left that way, Eddie was sure he would never see Jack again.

"No way I'm letting you go anywhere else by yourself tonight anyway, Jack," he said simply. "You can just put that right out of your head."

He understood now why he had been allowed to find Jack. This was what he was supposed to do. Tonight it was his job to hang onto Jack, to keep him from falling away.

"And I explain your presence to these people exactly how?"

Eddie thought for a moment.

"We'll take my car. Yours broke down; I came and got you so you could get there. They get their money, they won't care, especially if I stay in the car."

Jack fidgeted.

"Look, for the last time, you need to know what you're getting yourself into here.

"Say we take your car. If we get pulled over, they come up with some excuse to take a look in the backpack. To do that they're supposed to have something called "probable cause", but that's mostly b.s., they lie about that all the time. There's no way anybody believes you didn't know what was in there. It's not just grass, Eddie. I've got some coke, too. I've got much more than what we'd have if it were just for us. That means it's assumed we were going to sell it. That makes it 'possession with intent to sell', which is much worse. And on top of that, there's the little matter of the gun I'm carrying.

"This could screw up your whole future, Eddie. It could keep you from doing everything you ever wanted to do with your life.

"You can still walk away from this. That's what you should do. I wouldn't blame you if you did. This isn't your thing, its mine. And like you just saw, you could get hurt. This is dangerous."

"You keep saying that. I get the point. Let's just get this over with."

He started to walk past Jack.

"Eddie, about what I said, I didn't mean..."

"Shut up Jack, and get in the car."

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