6

Aligned Design

Ch 9.

"Bobby?"

His relief was physical. "Gleason, oh god, Gleason. Where are you? Honey, where are you? Are you ok?" He strode past the lifts and turned left. The door was on the right.

"Bobby, I'm sorry I left without telling you. It was wrong of me to leave like that. I was angry. I'm sorry; forgive me. Say you forgive me?" Gleason was crying.

"Oh, Honey, don't cry. I forgive you. I'm sorry. Don't cry. Come home. Come home, Gleason. I need you. Please come home. I want things like they were. Come home."

Bobby pulled open the utility closet door and slipped inside and shut the door. He leaned against the wall. "Will you come home? Do you want me to come and get you? Let me come and get you."

"No, no Bobby don't come. I can't come home yet. I'm sorry. I can't come yet."

"Why not? Why can't you come home. Come home. Please, Honey. I'll change, I'll not be so mad anymore. Why can't you come home?" Bobby was frenetic. He didn't cry, but she heard the anxiety in his voice.

His mind ran wild. I need her to come back. I need her. She can't stay away. She can't. I need her. Come home.

"Bobby, calm down." Gleason was frightened by how he sounded. She was afraid he would break. He sounded frantic. "Bobby where are you right now? Tell me. Where are you, love? Tell me."

"I'm I'm, I'm at work." His breath was hitching in his chest. "I'm in a utility closet so, so, uh, so we can talk privately. Deakins won't let me out of the office. I pissed off someone. I'm not sure who. I'm sorry I made you mad, Gleason. Will you come home? Honey? Please come home." He couldn't catch his breath. He felt tears coming. Do not cry! he yelled at himself. Do not! Stop now. Stop thinking! A door slammed in his head. Suddenly his mind was clear.

Gleason's heart broke. I did this to him. He's been so fragile and I pushed him over the edge. Oh, god, what have I done?

"Gleason, come home," he said calmly. "Do you want to come home? You can come home." He was having trouble breathing again. "Gleason, Glea- . . ." He hitched a sob. He couldn't breathe. "Glea--." Then the tears fell. "Come home, please. Please. I love you. Come home." His voice was barely a whisper.

"Bobby, listen to me. Love, love, listen to me. Bobby, sweetheart." She listened to him sob. She kept talking to him, making him hear her voice.

"Bobby I'm here. I will be home soon. I'll be home Friday night. Ok? I'll come home Friday night. You can pick me up. Bobby, do you hear me? Lovey, listen to me. Bobby calm down. Bobby, please." She heard his sobbing begin to abate. His crying slowed. His breathing slowed. She listened.

"Love, are you all right? Bobby, talk to me. Are you ok? Bobby?"

He hitched several breaths and barely whispered, "Yes. Gleason I love you. Do you love me? Say you love me. Please love me. I can't live without you. Everything is so wrong. Come home." He was working himself up again.

"Bobby listen to me. I'm coming home on Friday night. The day after tomorrow. I will be home in two days. We will talk every day. Several times. Ok? I'll talk to you this evening. We'll talk a long time tonight. Ok? Bobby?"

"You promise you're coming home? I want things to be like they were. I can make things like they were. I can. But you have to come home. You promise to come home?"

"Yes, love, I promise. I'll call you tonight. I'll call you at six o'clock your time. Ok? Six o'clock. Will you be home?"

"Yes, yes I'll be home. You'll call me at six. Ok. Ok, Gleason. I love you. You know that, right? I love you."

"I know you love me, sweetheart. I know. Why don't you go home. Deakins will let you go home, won't he? Go home and lie down. Sleep, love. Take a nap in our bed. Dream of me. I'll be home on Friday night."

Bobby was calm. "I can't go home, I don't have any sick days left. I have to stay and not leave. I can't leave. I'll be ok. Are you ok? Why did you leave me? Gleason?"

She couldn't answer that. She didn't know. "Love, we'll talk about everything tonight, ok? You have to get back to work. I wish you could go home. Will you be ok?"

"Yes. I love you, Gleason."

"I know you do, love. I'll call you at six, alright? You take care today. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

"Bye."

They both clicked off. Bobby sat in the utility closet for several more minutes. Betsy, one of the daytime custodians, checked back fifteen minutes later and the closet was empty. She sure hoped that fella made up with whoever he was crying over. He sure loved her.

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"Alex, in my office, please." Deakins said as he walked behind her on his way to the fax machine.

Bobby still wasn't back from his cell call. Must have been Gleason, she thought. Or his mom. Let it be Gleason.

She walked to the boss's office and sat, waiting for him. Deakins returned with a sheet of paper, he shut the door and set the paper on his desk.

"Huang and Bobby's psychiatrist are on their way over. They want to talk with you and me about him. How he's been. They want to get the situation first hand. You'll be around, won't you?"

"Of course." Eames mind ran with the dilemma of whether to tell Deakins what Edward had shared. If it would help Bobby, she had to. "Uh, Captain, Sledge might have something to offer regarding Bobby." She looked at her boss and then looked away. Damn, she did not want to break eye contact with him. He'll wonder how I know this.

"Sledge? They hate each other. What could Sledge offer other than swill concerning Goren the man, his heritage, intellect, personality and the rest. What does Sledge know?"

"Maybe he should tell you and you decide if it's important. Do you want me to go get him?"

"Uh, sure, I guess."

Eames stood, opened the door and headed straight for Sledge's desk. He saw her coming and stood up, wondering what the hell?

"Deakins wants to hear your story about Bobby from the other night."

"You told him about us?"

Eames was furious. She hissed to Sledge, "No! Bobby's shrink is on the way over with Huang. They want to find out what's wrong with him. They want to talk to Deakins and me because we know him best. I said you had information that might be important.

"Now, walk over there with me and tell Deakins what you told me. Jesus Christ, Edward. 'Did I tell him about us!' Sometimes you make me crazy!" She turned and practically marched back to the captain's office. Sledge followed contritely.

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Finally! A loading dock in the back, thank god! Jenese pulled in behind the green truck and parked off to the side.

Navicky was at his ninth stop and it was just past noon. His truck was not quite half-empty, but this stop would drop eight more boxes, big ones. Navicky used his mirrors to back up close to the small loading dock. He was glancing from left to right and back again, maneuvering carefully, when he saw the small blue car. His gut tightened.

Jenese watched the trucker with admiration. Nice job backing that bad boy up close. Of course, Jenese was imagining another situation altogether, where that kind of maneuvering skill might be useful. Shame on me, he thought with a smile.

Navicky shut down his truck and hopped from the cab. He walked to the back and slid up the overhead door. He acted as though he hadn't seen Jenese. Navicky hauled off the dolly and jumped up into the back of his truck, checking tracking numbers with his reader. Jenese stood at the bumper and watched.

"So, this is what you do all day?" he asked.

Joe Navicky looked over at the slight man. "What do you want?"

"What I want," Jenese said, pulling himself up into the enclosed bed of the truck, "is six paintings you have for me."

Navicky considered carefully what to say. Last chance to engage in a top bidder war with Jenese and Pangborn. What the hell.

"Actually, I have another interested party. He's offering considerably more than you are, Jenese."

"Is he? Well, you have become quite the entrepreneur, haven't you? I'm proud of you Joe. Really. I, being a kind person, bring you into a deal whereby you stand to make close to a hundred thousand dollars for doing nothing put setting aside six crates.

"And here you are, stealing from the kind person who brought you on board, holding the merchandise, which isn't yours, by the way, ransom and then entering into a bidding war between the kind person and some other no good thug. Where'd you meet this person, did he come to you after hearing you brag about the great deal you're into? That it, Joe? You been shooting off your mouth?"

Jenese kept moving slowly toward the other man. Navicky realized he was inside his truck, with no exit at his end, surrounded by stacks of cardboard boxes, which would insulate against any sound. He began to sweat. This wasn't supposed to go this way, he thought.

Jenese remained calm. He just wanted to know where the paintings were. He couldn't do anything to Navicky until he learned the location of the crates. This other buyer was an interesting development, however. Is this idiot smart enough to try to bluff me or did he go and get someone else involved in this scam, he wondered. No, he's just dumb enough to drag someone else into this. One more thief who would no sooner kill this bastard than pay him. Christ, people are stupid.

"So, Joe, tell me, where'd you stash those crates, huh?" He continued toward the other man. Joe was backing up, bumping into and stumbling over boxes. "You got them nearby? We can just run on over and pick 'em up, what do you say? They nearby? Huh? Where are they, Joe?"

Navicky was flat against the back wall of his truck. Nowhere to go. "Uh, well, I'm not sure I'm ready to tell you where they are. Got this other offer, you know. You can't hurt me, you know. You hurt me and you'll never know where they are. They'll be lost forever. So, just back off, hear me? Back off."

"Joe, I gotta hand it to you. You have the absolute best false bravado. I'm telling you, you could win an award with that act." Jenese began to clap slowly, the sound snapping harshly as is it slapped the cardboard.

"No, you see, Joe, I can do things to you to make you tell me where those paintings are. I can do things you cannot even imagine. You've got places on your body that I, personally, really like to fool with. Naw, Joe, I can make you tell me. Probably in under an hour. Hell, I could fool with you, get the info, go get the crates, and you could still be on time with your routes. How's that for service?"

Jenese got into Navicky's face, reached down, found Navicky's plaything and fondled a bit. Oh, a little stiffy there. "You like that Joe? Can't help it, can you? I know, kind of embarrassing, but goddamn it feels good. Want me to suck you? I will. Right here, behind all these boxes. No one will know." Jenese licked his lips.

Navicky didn't know what to do, he was confused. He'd never been done by a man before. He'd paid women, sure. It did feel good, what Jenese was doing. Jenese knew what he was doing.

"Tell me where the crates are, Joey. Tell me." Jenese found Navicky's zipper and pulled it down, reached in and grasped the man through his shorts. "Come on. Where are they?"

Suddenly, someone was rapping on the side of the truck, "Hey, are you in there? Driver? Where are you? Are you ok in there?"

Both men stopped and Jenese spun around.

Navicky called, "Yeah, yeah I'm in here looking for something. Be right there."

Jenese ducked behind a stack and hissed, "Get rid of him so I can get the fuck out of here. Hear me? We're not done here."

Navicky headed for the open end of the truck.