Chapter 2

Don tried to put it all together on the way back to the office.

Charlie's vocabulary suddenly included swearing.

Charlie was working 16-hour days.

Charlie was showing impatience with his students.

Charlie referred to the future as some "new hell" he had to face.

Charlie still wouldn't come to the office.

He parked in the employee lot and began to walk toward his office. He took his cell phone out, flipped it open, pushed the speed dial.

"Yello."

He smiled. "Magenta, Dad."

Alan laughed. "You boys need to stop making fun of the way your old man answers the phone."

"Maybe. Or maybe our old man needs to stop answering the phone as if he were describing a lemon."

Another laugh. "Did you just call to harass me today, Donnie?"

Don was at the main door to the building, now. He stopped and stepped to the side to finish his conversation, as much for privacy as for cell reception. "Dad, how's Charlie?"

His father was silent for...Don checked his watch. Approximately 35 cents worth of time.

"Well, he's fine, Don. He's at work..." Alan's voice seemed wary. "What exactly do you mean?"

Don paced a little. "I don't know, really. I just stopped by the school, to ask for his help on a case, and he seemed...kind-of frazzled, I guess."

"You asked him to come by the office?"

Don tensed. Did his father know something? "Yes."

"What did he say?"

Don thought. "He never really said he wouldn't. He asked if we could bring him the data, and the conversation...skewed, a little. We didn't get back to it."

He heard his father sigh. "He still has a lot of nightmares."

Still? What did he mean, 'still'? This was news to Don. "I didn't realize he'd had any."

"He doesn't tell me about them. But he's woken me up, several times."

"What?"

Alan clarified. "His reaction to the nightmare isn't loud...he's not screaming, or anything. Sometimes I hear him, when I'm not asleep yet...usually I wake up because I hear the stairs creak. He goes downstairs, falls asleep on the couch with the television tuned to satellite radio."

Don stared at the sidewalk. "How often does this happen?"

"Two...three times a week."

"Why didn't anybody tell me?"

"Don." His father sounded exasperated. "Do you call us every time you have a bad dream? Besides, I rather hoped the counselor would help him with that."

Now Don sighed. "There is no counselor."

"What?"

"Charlie said he kept his promise, he went to see one...but I definitely got the impression that it was only once, right after he got out of the hospital. Probably to shut us up."

He heard his father swear. Seems he could make everyone do that, today.

"Come to dinner, tonight. We can ask him to go back."

"I'm hoping to, Dad...but Charlie won't be there. He has meetings on campus. Is he working too much? I mean, for someone who got shot six weeks ago?"

"I guess he's working more than I knew. I thought some of these late afternoons were because he was still seeing that counselor." Alan made a clucking noise. "Although why I assumed that he'd keep going, I don't know."

Don smiled darkly. "Yeah. Dad, it's probably not a good idea to tell him about that assumption."

"Already got trapped in that one, did you?"

"Right. Listen, I'm going to try and have lunch with him tomorrow. He...wouldn't commit, but...I'll try again."

Another 35 cents passed before he heard Alan's voice again.

"Memorial Day."

"Excuse me?"

"It's coming, in two weeks. Maybe we could go somewhere. Or you boys could, he might not feel like we were ganging up on him that way. Is there a math museum somewhere?"

In spite of himself, Don laughed. "Thinking not, Dad. But that's an interesting idea."

"Well, he can't go hiking, with that leg. Not yet."

Don mused. "Let me think about this. Like I said, I'll try to get by for dinner tonight."

"All right, son."

"Dad, try not to worry, okay? I could be over-reacting to this whole thing."

He heard Alan snort. "Yes. You do that all the time."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Don waited until Charlie had the sandwich in his mouth.

Lunch the next day had turned out to be back in Charlie's office. When he said he didn't have time to leave campus, because of a class he had to cover for Professor Emory that began only 30 minutes after his own dismissed, Don brought deli to him. They spread it all out on the desk and fell to with a mission. Don was glad to see that Charlie seemed hungry...at least if food just magically appeared in front of him.

He heard the crunch of the assorted green things Charlie insisted on - something vegetarian, today - took a quick swallow of soda, and said it.

Charlie lowered the sandwich so quickly that some lettuce flew out and hit Don in the face. He picked if off and waited for his brother to chew, take a drink.

Charlie wiped his mouth with a napkin, handed another to Don. "Sorry. What did you just say? You want us to what?"

Don smiled nervously. "Take a cruise. Over Memorial Day, one of those short ones to Mexico out of Long Beach."

Charlie just looked at him, as if he'd suddenly grown another head. He ran a hand through his hair to make sure it was still there.

"My travel agent had a cancellation this morning; she's holding the cabin for us, but I have to let her know this afternoon. Come on, Charlie, it's a nice cabin. Outside, balcony."

"Travel agent? Why do you have a travel agent, Don? You never go anywhere."

Don felt himself blush. "It may not be a purely professional relationship."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, and Don hurried on. "But any more details about that will have to be pried out of me on the Lido deck, probably with at least one 'drink of the day'."

"What about Dad?"

"What about him?"

"Is he invited?"

"Charlie, do you remember our one-and-only deep-sea fishing trip together? You were 10, I was 15, Dad was…"

"...puking his guts up on my favorite sneakers."

Both brothers smiled at the memory.

Suddenly Charlie shook his head. "I'm sorry, Don. I'm very busy - you see that I can't even get a decent lunch, these days. I'm sure I'll use Memorial Day to catch up."

Don pushed. "Charlie, this isn't all about you. I could really use a break, even a short one. I need a roommate. The single supplement on these things is ridiculous."

"You can't take the travel agent?"

"I said you're not getting anything else out of me about that."

They were interrupted by a tap on the unlatched door, and it swung open farther to reveal Amita. She smiled.

"Hi Don! Good to see you!" She looked fondly at the professor. "And you're even getting Charlie to eat."

"You want half?" Charlie offered. "It's vegetarian."

She still stood in the doorway. "No, thank you. I've scheduled some time on the super computer, and I've got to be on time or I'll lose it. I just stopped by to tell you that I talked to Mark, last night."

Don saw Charlie's smile tighten around the edges. Mark? He looked at Amita.

"He's a...friend...from Boston. We met at a physics conference a few months ago." She looked back at Charlie. "Anyway, he's flying in for Memorial Day weekend. I thought we could all go out to one of the state parks, have a picnic. Larry, and you..." she looked back at Don. "You also, and your Dad, of course."

Charlie picked up his sandwich again, held it in front of him as if it could protect him, somehow. Don saw a shadow in his eyes, and frowned, even though his brother was smiling.

"Amita, that's great. I know you'll enjoy seeing Mark again...and I wish we could meet him, really."

Her posture stiffened. "You can't come?"

Charlie took a quick drink of soda. Don wondered if he realized he had grabbed the wrong one. "It's bad timing, I'm afraid. Don was just here so we could finalize our plans." He looked at his brother and the shadowed eyes held a little fear. "We're going on a cruise, that weekend."

Don turned to smile at Amita, and she smiled back. "A cruise! Wow...that's...great." She looked uncertainly at Charlie, then back to Don. "A little unexpected, but I'm sure you both need the vacation."

"Just a short one," Charlie interjected. "To Mexico."

Amita's gaze took on a little confusion. "Spanish is not one of the languages you speak, is it?"

Charlie shifted in his chair and Don looked at him. One of the languages? How many languages did his brother speak? Did math count as a language?

"Not fluently, no. I can order water, ask for a bathroom...I'm sure not much more will be required."

She laughed. "Probably not even that much. Everybody speaks English, now." She looked at her watch. "Gotta make my reservation. I'm sorry you won't be here to meet Mark, but I hope you have a great time. Really." She looked at Don again. "You too, Don." She was speaking rapidly, backing away from the door, lifted a hand. "I'll see you both later!" She turned and all-but-ran down the hall.

Don looked at Charlie. The sandwich was back on the desk, and his brother hid his face in his hands.

Don grinned. "You know what this means, don't you?"

Charlie peeked through his fingers. "What?", he mumbled.

Don grinned wider. "Start packing, bro."