Tangential Planes 8/9

Chapter Eight:

Friday Evening

"Charlie? You feeling up for a visitor?" Alan crouched down beside the couch where his son was laying, his eyes half closed. "It's Larry. I can tell him to come back this weekend if you need your rest right now."

"No, I'm good, Dad. Thanks." Charlie sat up a little and rubbed his eyes. "Tell Larry it's okay."

"You sure?" Alan arched his eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Charlie said, stifling a weary yawn. "Really, Pop. I promise I won't let him wear me out."

"Okay, then. I'll be in the kitchen. Yell if you need anything."

"Thanks."

Alan stood up and beckoned to Larry waiting near the front door.

Larry walked over cautiously, absentmindedly twisting his hat around and around in his hands in a nervous manner. Alan nodded to him silently as if to encourage him.

Alan left for the kitchen and Larry pulled up a chair next to the couch where he could face Charlie.

"Charles... I'm glad to see you conscious again. That was quite a finale at the conference. One I'm hopeful I won't be witness to ever again."

Charlie looked up into Larry's worried face. "I am truly sorry, Larry."

Larry waved off his apology kindly. "I understand better than you realize. You were under a great deal of pressure to finish that project you swore you weren't working on." When Charlie tried to interject, Larry simply waved him off again. "I know, I know, there was no project."

Charlie opened his mouth as if to protest but appeared uncertain what to say.

"Just relax. You haven't betrayed any government secrets, well not on purpose anyway. I may not match your genius but I am certainly far more of an expert on reading people than you, my friend. I've known for weeks that you were working on something classified at the highest levels."

Charlie put his head in his hands. "Don's right. I never could keep a secret."

"Now, now. Don't be so hard on yourself! You haven't told me anything specific so you're fine." Larry patted him on the knee. "Besides, your secret is safe with me. If you can't tell me, who can you tell?"

Charlie leaned back for a moment and closed his eyes. "Don. Don said I could tell him."

"Well, he's a federal agent. I'm sure his security clearance..."

"No, not about the project... My security clearance is higher than his so I can't even talk to him about it. Don said earlier... He said that I didn't have to talk about the projects I was working on. That I should talk about how they are affecting me and to ask for help even if I can't say why I need it."

"That sounds like very sage advice. Think you can follow it?"

Charlie looked at Larry with a questioning glance.

"Charles, I've been saying similar things to you for the last few weeks and I warrant your father has too. You've been shutting us out. I'm amazed Don got through to you but then again he didn't until after your collapse, am I right?"

Charlie just looked down rather than answer.

Larry laid his hand on Charlie's arm to get his attention. "Charles, your father and I, Don, Amita... We've all been there for you, waiting to help you, waiting for you to let us help you. You just never let us in. Don's right. We don't need to know what you are working on to be there for you in difficult times. I guess what I'm trying to say is you don't need to ask for help, you just need to realize that you've been closed to it and to start being open to it."

Charlie smiled, a bit bashfully. "Yeah, okay."

"That's what I like to hear! Perhaps we just need some sort of code word or phrase, like 'box of chocolates'."

"Box of chocolates?" Charlie asked.

"It's the phrase Hercules Poirot used with his sidekick Hastings, to remind him when he was particularly... shall we say, filled with hubris?"

Charlie laughed. "Seems appropriate enough. Box of chocolates it is."

A muffled ringing sound came from behind Charlie's pillow. He quickly silenced it, turning towards the kitchen to see if his father had caught him with the cell phone.

"Hello?" he said quietly.

Larry waited for him to start talking in case he needed to step away to give him some privacy. Instead, Charlie hung up the phone without another word.

"Larry, I'm sorry but I need to cut our visit short."

"Why? Who was on the phone?"

Charlie just looked at him for a moment and then said. "You just told me that you guys could support me without needing to know things, right? Well this is one of those times. Please, Larry. We can talk this weekend, okay?"

"Box of chocolates?"

"I'm good," Charlie chuckled. "Don't worry."

Larry stood up to go. "Call me tomorrow and let me know when you're feeling up for another visit, all right?"

"Will do," Charlie nodded.

Alan saw Larry at the front door and came out of the kitchen. "Leaving so soon?"

Larry turned back to look at Charlie. "Yes... Just ask your son what's going on."

Once he walked out Alan came over to Charlie and took the chair Larry had just vacated. "What's this all about?"

"Dad, Don told me that you and he would support me even if I couldn't tell you about my projects."

"Well of course! I don't need to know the details of the math problems you're working on. Heck, I couldn't understand them even if you did tell me about them!" he laughed.

"Well, this is one of those times. I need the house to myself for a little while. Can you do that for me? Give me a little privacy?"

"Leave you alone? Charlie, I just brought you back from the hospital! Are you kidding me?"

"No, Dad... Please."

Alan looked at his son carefully and could tell this was important. "I'll go do the grocery shopping then. Why don't you call my cell when you're done and it's time for me to come home?"

"That'd be great. Thanks, Dad. Really."

"Okay. No overexerting yourself while I'm gone!" Alan gave him a suspicious look but didn't ask anything further, merely grabbing his jacket and keys and heading out the door.

Alan saw Larry standing by his car at the curb and went over to talk to him. Before he could get a word out, a black sedan pulled up into the driveway. Two men in dark suits got out and headed for the house.

"What the..." Alan watched as Charlie opened the front door and wordlessly ushered the men inside.

"He got a call on his cell," Larry explained. "He didn't say anything but right afterwards he asked me to leave. I thought perhaps it might be them."

"Them?" Alan asked.

"Whichever alphabet group he's been working for these last few weeks." Larry pointed back towards the house and Alan turned to look. From where they were standing, they could see into the windows and watch, but not hear, Charlie's conversation with the men.

The men appeared to speak first and Charlie's expression erupted into one of extreme anguish. He covered his face with his hands for a moment as the men continued to speak and when he removed his hands there was still pain there but there was another expression as well: relief.