Chapter 17
Gary flipped though the channels. Talk shows, soaps, and a couple of game shows-nothing that captured his interest. He pushed the "off" button and tossed the remote on the coffee table. This enforced idleness was driving him nuts. He was going stir-crazy. He picked up the newspaper, searching for anything more that needed to be done.
"Ah ha!" Gary leaned forward, reading the tiny little blurb out loud. "A small fire in the kitchen of Lucy's Diner caused a lunchtime commotion yesterday. The fire was caused by a worker who accidentally set a stack of napkins too close the grill. The diner was forced to close for several hours, but was able to open in time for the dinner crowd."
Gary picked up the phone and hit the first speed dial button. "Hey, Chuck? How'd you know it was me?" Gary grabbed a pencil and circled the article. "Yeah, well, anyway-I found another one for you." He paused and winced, pulling the phone away from his ear. He shook his head and gingerly placed the receiver next to his ear again. "What do you mean, no?" Gary scratched his head, "It's just a small fire in a diner--ah--no, nobody gets hurt but-"
Gary stared at the dead phone in his hand. "Yeah, well you're the one who said you'd stick around and help out, buddy," Gary said to the phone as he slammed it down.
It had been nine days since Gary's release from the hospital. The first few days had been rough. He'd been so tired that just walking to and from the bathroom wore him out. Taking a shower expended so much energy that he'd needed a two hour nap after taking one. Slowly, though, his strength was returning. The last couple of days he had spent time in the office downstairs trying to help Marissa get caught up on some of the paperwork. Tonight he planned to tend bar for a few hours to give Crumb a break. He grinned at the thought; he could hardly wait. He'd finally be back among the living.
Gary looked around the loft and decided that it needed a good cleaning. With Chuck staying with him until he found a new place, the small apartment felt overcrowded with suitcases, shoes and newspapers scattered about.
Gary got to work, stacking old papers neatly, and tucking the suitcases under the bed. He lined the shoes up near the door, and was just collecting drinking glasses from the end-tables, when the door burst open. Gary looked up in surprise to see Chuck enter, slamming the door behind him.
"What are you doing back so soon?" he asked, puzzled. There was no way Chuck could have finished all the rescues that Gary had listed.
"I'm hungry! Is that okay, buddy? Doesn't the paper allow a person a chance to eat?"
Gary flinched at the venom in Chuck's tone. "Well, yeah, sometimes it does. But what about all the stuff on the list?"
Chuck stalked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a can of pop and some lunchmeat. "I edited the damn list."
Following Chuck into the kitchen, Gary reached into a drawer to retrieve a loaf of bread. He thrust it at Chuck. "You edited my list? But…but there are things on it that need to be done.
"Then you go do them. I'm eating." Chuck snatched the bread from Gary's hands and slapped a sandwich together. He grabbed a bag of chips off the counter and tucking it under his arm, took his lunch over to the couch.
Gary stood in stunned disbelief, then trailed Chuck to sofa, standing over him. "But what about your promise to help out? You didn't say, 'I'll help out only if it fits my schedule.' You said, 'Gary, I'll do whatever you need me to do, buddy.'"
Chuck looked up, guilt and something else flitting across his face. Resentment? Gary held out his hand. "Give me the list."
His mouth full, Chuck shrugged and reached into his shirt pocket, tossing the list onto the coffee table.
Gary slowly picked it up, noting the rescues that had been crossed off--and the ones that hadn't. "What about the teen that drowns at the North Ave. Beach?" Gary glanced at the clock. The drowning would take place in only thirty minutes.
"The kid was drunk, Gary. I'm supposed to risk my neck because he went swimming when he was totally blotto?" Chuck glared defiantly at Gary.
"So you'll just let him die?" Gary hastily stuck his feet into his shoes. "Never mind! I'll do it myself!" He seized the paper and rushed out the door ignoring Chuck's cries to wait for him. He'd be damned if he'd beg Chuck to save the kid, or worse, use guilt to force him to do what was right.
Gary decided to take McGinty's van. It would be faster, and hopefully he'd find a parking space. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove, seething at Chuck's irresponsibility. How could he let a kid drown? It was one thing to ignore a small, harmless fire in a diner, another thing altogether to blow off someone losing their life.
Gary raced through traffic, weaving in and out and blaring his horn at taxis. Stuck at a stoplight, Gary ran his fingers through his hair, "Damn him!" He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, muttering, "Come on, light." When the light turned green, Gary gunned the engine, releasing his pent-up frustration.
What was Chuck's problem, anyway? Just because the paper had been especially busy, that didn't give him the right to take out his anger on an innocent kid. Gary remembered the article in the paper. Okay, maybe Jeremy Chapman wasn't totally innocent. The paper said that alcohol had been a factor in the drowning, but that didn't mean he should die because of it. He was only seventeen, for chrisake. He made a stupid mistake, that shouldn't mean that he should pay for it with his life.
Ten minutes later, Gary was at the beach. He had only five minutes to find the kid and prevent him from drowning.
Gary lurched through the sand, his feet sinking in the soft surface, feeling his energy being sapped by the effort. "Jeremy! Jeremy Chapman!" he called loudly. The beach was crowded and most people ignored him. He made his way towards the water, his hand shielding his eyes from the glare as he scanned the surf. He squinted as he spotted a head bobbing about fifty feet from shore. There was something about the way the person was flailing his arms. Gary glanced around. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to the swimmer. He started to turn away, convinced he had the wrong person.
Abruptly, the head dropped from sight.
"Shit!" Gary turned, searching for a lifeguard. He located one posted about forty yards away, but the guard was looking the other way, yelling at some kids to stop horsing around. He didn't notice Gary's frantic waving.
Gary caught the attention of some girls who were strolling nearby. "Hey! Go get the lifeguard! There's a kid drowning out there!" He pointed to the kid's head, which had popped back up momentarily only to go back under a second later.
The girls raced off towards the guard. Gary pulled out the paper. The article was still there. "Damn!" He hesitated for a brief moment, not sure if he was up to rescuing the teen himself but realized there was nothing else he could do. He tossed down the paper and hopped on alternate feet as he ripped off his shoes and then taking long running strides through the waves, he plunged into the water.
Gary swam as hard as he could towards the bobbing head. Frantic when he lost sight of the kid only a few feet from where he had last seen the him, Gary tread water, quickly turning in a circle as the tried to find the boy. Taking a deep breath, he dove under the surface, swimming down as far as he was able. Visibility was poor, and after only about twenty seconds, Gary was forced to come up for air. Cursing his inability to hold his breath any longer, Gary gasped. His lungs felt like they were on fire and dark spots swam in his vision. Sucking in another lung full of air, Gary submerged again. A flash of white just off to the left caught his eye and grabbed at it. He was rewarded with the feel of a cold hand in his.
He tugged on the hand as he kicked for the surface.
Gary coughed and sputtered as he pulled the boy up, finally able to maneuver the kid's head above water. Wrapping his arm around the boy's neck, Gary started towards shore, his arms and legs feeling like someone had poured lead into them. He choked on mouthful of water and almost went under. Laboriously side-stroking, his breath ragged, he slowly drew closer to the beach.
"Gary! Hang on, man!"
Gary turned onto his back, struggling to maintain his grip on the kid. He thought he heard someone calling to him, but the sound of his breathing and the water cascading over his head with every wave muffled the voice. He kicked his feet with the last of his strength, hoping the final surge would carry them to safety.
Suddenly, several pairs of arms were reaching towards him. He relaxed as he felt himself and his burden being pulled in, though he maintained his hold on the boy until he felt sand shifting under his back. He released the teen into waiting hands, and weakly turned over; retching water onto the sand.
Gary crawled a few feet up the beach, the water lapping at his ankles, and collapsed on his back, his breaths coming in great heaving gasps. Someone was shaking his shoulder.
"Hey Gar, you okay?"
Gary nodded without opening his eyes. What was Chuck doing here? He was supposed to be eating lunch. Gary started shivering, slowly at first, but then his whole body began trembling so hard he had to clench his jaws to keep his teeth from chattering.
"I need a blanket or towel here!" Chuck bellowed to somebody.
Gary struggled to sit up, pulling his knees towards his chest, arms locked around them and he rocked slowly back and forth, eyes tightly closed. A sun-warmed blanket was draped around his shoulders and he was sure that nothing had ever felt so good.
"I'm sorry, buddy."
Gary opened his eyes. Chuck was sitting next to him, his expression bleak. "It…it's ok-k-kay."
"No, it's not. I blew it." Chuck hung his head in dejection.
All around them chaos reigned as the lifeguards performed CPR on Jeremy Chapman.
There was a choking cough behind them, and Gary turned in time to see Jeremy begin to move and spit water out of his mouth. The teen opened his eyes and attempted to sit up.
Grinning at the sight, a new warmth spreading through Gary. "Don't worry about it, Chuck. It all turned out okay."
Chuck glanced at Jeremy, then dropped his head again. "Yeah, but only because of you." Chuck scuffed a toe in the sand, avoiding Gary's gaze. "I'm just not cut out for this sort of thing, Gar. Look at you-" Chuck finally turned, gesturing at Gary's bedraggled appearance, "you're sitting here cold, wet, and half drowned, and you're loving every minute of it."
A cough overtook Gary before he could reply and he winced at the lingering pain in his chest. "I'm not exactly loving it, Chuck."
Chuck snorted, then chuckled, "Maybe not the half-drowned part--but you do love saving people, Gary. It's what you live for."
Gary focused on bug crawling through the sand. "No, I don't. It's just something that I have to do."
"That's just it, Gary. It's something you have to do. Like other people need food and water. That's why you get the paper. Not me. Not anyone else. I'll never be like that no matter how hard I try."
"Yes, you could Chuck. If you really wanted--" Gary protested, knowing in his heart that Chuck was right.
Chuck picked up a small twig and started shredding it. "No, Gar. I think I first realized it when you were stuck in that movie theater and the paper went to your parents instead of me. I was never meant to be a part of this thing. You were. I've just been along for the ride."
Gary was silent, staring out at the water. He could feel what was coming next and his gut clenched.
"I can't stay here, Gar." Chuck cleared his throat, tossing the shredded stick into the surf, "I'm going back to L.A. next week. I hope you understand."
Gary opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. His throat had a lump in it the size of a ping pong ball. He swallowed hard, dropping his head. He wanted to rant and rave and beg Chuck to stay. He shuddered when he thought of the future ; the years ahead of him with no one to help share the burden. The loneliness. He pulled in a deep breath, finally lifting his head.
"I understand, Chuck." And Gary was surprised to find that he did understand. The paper had never been important to Chuck. It had been a lark, an adventure while it had lasted but one that Chuck was more than ready to put behind him. This was the way it was meant to be.
"If you ever really need me, though, just give me a holler, buddy."
Gary nodded, smiling. He knew that. "Yeah, Chuck. I will."
Chuck stood, offering Gary a hand and hauling him to his feet. "Come on, let's get you out of here."
