Chapter Seven: Chasm

Charlie was ashamed. He'd been weak, given in to fear. If Don could handle the stress without relying on outside help, then he would, too. "Hell," he said aloud. "I beat Reylott the first time, I can do it again if I have to, by myself." As he spoke, doubts seeped in, unwelcome and annoying, and he locked them away, concluding that he didn't need go back to Volkov. Eventually, the doc would get around to asking him about his sex life. Off limits, Charlie thought, private.

Returning to campus, he defied his frazzled nerves and the threatening night, hurrying towards his office under the yellow glare of lights. Students trudged to and from classes, talking on cell phones, uninterested in anything but their conversations. Near the science building, he came to the row of prickly plants which lined the pathway, a Great Wall of shrubs with gaping chasms every twenty feet or so between buildings where darkness maliciously disguised itself as benign emptiness. From the end of the row, he peered down the long line, unable to proceed, and pictured a gangly arm darting out of the dark to wrench his neck in two. It depressed him.

He withdrew, turned back and contacted David to query him about the Reylott sightings. The only information he could provide was that no additional reports had been filed and that it was highly probable it was merely someone who resembled Reylott because witnesses regularly misidentified suspects.

Charlie reassured himself what David was saying was true, evaluated the margin of error. From cases he'd consulted on, he'd learned false sightings were numerous.

Hanging up, he soldiered home in heavy traffic and entered the house pensively, reviewing the afternoon's events, when his father rushed downstairs, asked why he hadn't called back. Charlie felt attacked, dumped his briefcase on the coffee table and told him he had other things on his mind.

Alan was distressed, said everyone was looking for Don.

"The whole world?" Charlie said. The world loves to worry about the big brother, but not the little one.

"This is serious," Alan said. "He's been put on—"

"Leave. Yeah, I know." Charlie walked toward the stairs. "I've spoken with him." Yeah, he's that special.

"Where's he now?"

He placed a foot on the first step. "How should I know?" he said, and began to climb.

His father persisted. "Is he okay? Megan said he was outraged."

Halfway up, Charlie paused, reluctantly. "He's going to fight it."

"She says he'll need medical clearance. It's mandatory."

"He thinks there's a way around that." Because Don knows everything.

"There is? I certainly hope so," Alan said. "What about you? How'd it go with Dr. Volkov?"

Charlie had to deal with it; his father would disapprove. "Look, Dad," he said, gathering his resolve. "I'm not going back to him."

"I'm not pleased to hear that." Alan climbed a few steps. "You'll only prolong what's going on."

"It's my decision." My life.

"What? One visit and you know already? You haven't given him a chance."

"Stay out of it, Dad." I didn't pick the guy, you did.

"Stay?" Alan said. "How about I stay in bed and go back to sleep with my son yelling in the next room in the middle of the night?"

"I know, I know you've been there but there're some things a man has to decide for himself."

"Charlie, a man doesn't hide from what he has to do. It takes courage to wade through all that stuff inside that piles up and drags us down, makes us unhappy."

"Who said I was unhappy?" There was a pleading in his father's eyes—beneath the concern and above the annoyance—that made Charlie want to spit out his feelings yet spare him from them.

"Come on, you're my son. I've seen you go through every emotion under the stars. I'm very disappointed."

He chose to spare him. "I'll be good, you'll see."

Alan said, "What happened between you and Don?"

"Nothing." Charlie realized his dad could read him like the Times. "He's mad. His bosses are going by the book." And I'm just a newspaper. He ascended, speaking as he did. "I don't think they'll be cutting him any slack."

"I hope yours will be more forgiving."

Charlie turned on the landing. "What?"

"You need to call Larry," Alan said. "Now."

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