“OK, I agree that you should work tonight—but I still think, if you feel you have to work somewhere, that you should get a less demanding job with easier hours. You don't really have to work, and I wish you had more time to spend at home. We would all be happier if you did that.”
Richard had trouble with his choice of words because what he selfishly really wanted was the Janet of fifteen years ago, who stayed at home, planned their meals, and focused her attention on him and their young family. As much as anything, though Richard could hardly voice it to her, he was jealous of the attention which the station demanded from Janet. Only he was supposed to be sitting late at night at the dining room table, working on a pile of papers from the office, not both of them. He felt like they were supposed to be husband and wife, but instead they were executive and executive.
“So you want someone who will just stay at home, cook your meals, look after you, and have no aspirations of her own,” Janet said, with an edge to her voice.
“Yes!” Richard almost screamed, “Yes. That's it, Just like Kristen, every Tuesday and Thursday!” but he didn't. He smiled at his own childishness. Instead, he put his hand to his forehead, closed his eyes, and tried to say in a calm voice, “Just more balance, Janet. I feel like we both work too hard, and that can't be good for us or for the kids.”
“Well, I think you have a one-sided view of who is supposed to do what. I will gladly compromise and work on trying to save what we have, but it can't be just my responsibility alone.”
“OK…OK…I told you I was sorry for being upset about tonight. Go ahead and do the test run. I know it's important. Tell me about it when you get home. And let's discuss this larger issue when we're together. All right?”
“Agreed, but I don't want it swept under the carpet. I want to talk about it, Richard. Goodbye.”
Yes, ma'am! he thought, as he dropped the receiver into its cradle.
If Nepravel had not been at the abortion clinic, he would have been delighted by this almost pointless argument, because for the first time one of them had mentioned the need to “save” their marriage, as if it were lost. Words are so wonderfully powerful, Nepravel well knew. If his plan continued to work, the next time it would be Richard's turn to attack a contrite Janet. Then her turn to attack him, a few days later. If this powerful cycle kept up, Nepravel knew from experience that he could destroy their marriage in just a few months.
“It was no big deal—just a little discomfort,” Amy told Bobbie, as she sat in a chair in Nurse Simpson's office. “A few cramps afterwards, but that's about it.”
“See, I told you that everything would turn out fine,” said Mrs. Simpson, checking Amy's blood pressure. “It always has. Now let me take your temperature, Amy.”
As the thermometer went into Amy's mouth, Susan picked up the story. “There were all these protestors out on the sidewalk when we drove up, and we were scared that someone would see us.”
“I know,” said Bobbie sadly, “my parents have held vigils there in the past.”
“They have?” Susan questioned, and Mrs. Simpson turned her head to look at Bobbie.
“Then I guess it really is a good thing you didn't tell them,” said Susan.
“Yes, I guess so.” Bobbie looked down at the floor and felt terribly guilty. Maybe they would have known what to do…
“Well, anyway, Amy was great. Never batted an eyelash.” Susan smiled at their friend, genuinely relieved and proud. “Afterwards, they watched her for a while. Amy paid, and here we are. All done.”
“One less baby to worry about, you might say,” Bobbie said, and immediately regretted it, from the frowns on the other three faces. “All right. All right. It's done,” she said, raising her hands toward the glares. “I didn't think it was right, but it's done. I'll stop talking about it, and let's just all try to go back to the way we were. OK?” And she managed a smile and squeezed Amy's hand.
“That's all I want, the sooner, the better,” Amy smiled back tentatively, as Mrs. Simpson removed the thermometer.
“It's just a shade above normal, but nothing to worry about. Amy, why don't you just rest here for as long as you like so we can be sure that there will be no more bleeding. You girls are welcome to stay with her, or you can go back to class.”
“We'll stay,” Bobbie said, and sat down with Susan on the couch. She sensed that perhaps more than Amy's body had to heal, and she wanted to be with her two friends.
“Can you come over tonight?” Brent asked Tommy at lunch.
“No, not tonight. I wish I could, but Mom is working late, and Dad made a big deal of asking Susan and me to go out to that place where you cook your own steaks. So I guess I gotta do that. And Saturday morning we're all driving up to the Bryants’ new mountain house. I'm gonna have a great time, with only Susan and Amy there!” he added sarcastically.
But in fact he was glad to have a weekend off from their activities. Since his brief discussion with his dad after the ball game, he had felt that perhaps things were moving too fast, that he needed some time to think. So this coming weekend promised to be at least normal, even if it would be boring.
As the regular work day drew to a close, Janet went into the studio dressing room and changed into the jeans and work shirt she had brought from home. Then she met in the conference room with Bill, Tom, and Connie, who were similarly dressed for their evening of chasing possible emergencies. Soon they were joined by Bob Grissom and Mark Pugh from Network, the producer and director, respectively, of “911 Live.”
Bill introduced the network men to Connie and Tom, who had not been at the luncheon with Janet, where Bill had, with carefully chosen words, explained to Bob and Mark some of the concerns that had been expressed about the show. Their reaction had been similar to Bill's, but they agreed with his request to help him solve his internal station problem by inviting two of the dissenters on the test run. Janet did her best to maintain a neutral position through all of the discussion at lunch on the suitability of the show, trying to voice both sides correctly.
Once the introductions in the conference room were completed, Bill Shaw began, “We should have a really good opportunity to test both the concept and the equipment this evening. Mark will be staying here in the studio control booth, directing the show and controlling the helicopter, the reporter/camera teams in the three roving patrols, and the remote control cameras on the emergency vehicles. The five of us will be in our station's van, following closely behind a police car on the north side of the city. All of the vehicles will be hooked together by a two-channel radio link. Hopefully, after all of this preparation, we'll have some ‘action’ to record.”
“We're really looking forward to this trial run, as well,” added Bob Grissom. “It should be very similar to the national show which starts this fall. And we are delighted to have you folks along to add your local spin to whatever happens this evening. I probably don't need to say this, but I do want to remind you that we are all just observers. Whatever may happen, we want to remain safe and not get involved. We're there to observe and to report, but not to interact in any way. OK?”
There were nods all around the table. “One question,” Tom said. “How did you secure the involvement of our police, emergency rescue, and fire departments for tonight?”
“It was easy, and totally aboveboard, of course,” said Mark. “We called your mayor a month ago and asked his permission, pointing out that the footage for the national promotion for the show to be run during the summer will feature clips from tonight's test. Hopefully there will be several opportunities to show your emergency response people in a very favorable light. We also, with his permission, made a sizable contribution to the appropriate retirement funds for the professionals involved.”
“Sounds fine. I was just curious.”
“Well, if that's it,” said Bill, “let's get in the van and head towards the north area precinct to pick up the police car they've assigned us to follow. Mark, I know you have a lot of last-minute thin
gs to do here at the station to get ready. Good luck to all of us.”
Kristen was anticipating what would apparently be a very boring weekend. She had drawn duty in one of their new subdivisions for most of Saturday, and her regular aerobics workout would fill the late afternoon. But the rest of the weekend looked empty, and she was frankly jealous that Richard and Janet would be spending the weekend with their friends, the Bryants, at a mountain house.
Here it was almost summer, and Richard had still made no concrete move to leave Janet. If he was half as unhappy as he said, then why did he stay with her? Maybe he wasn't really as unhappy as he told her. Maybe he was simply amused to have two women sleeping with him. That thought added anger to her already ripe jealousy. What had begun for her as infatuation and the security of an older man had blossomed over the past months into real affection. She wanted to live with him. She missed him. Even though it was late in the day, she decided to call him.
Richard was putting a few contract files in his briefcase to review at home after dinner with the kids, when his private line rang. He was surprised to hear Kristen, who, after a few initial pleasantries, reminded him again that he had vowed to leave Janet and that she was tired of being just a part-time lover.
Richard, who now regretted his earlier, too easy portrayal of his life with Janet as being so bleak, was afraid to tell Kristen that there had actually been some improvement (at least until this morning, he thought). So he fell back upon the same excuse he had used for months. “Kristen, I know. But the kids, especially Tommy, are going through a difficult time. I think it would devastate them if I suddenly left. You know, maybe if you need more of a relationship—and I would certainly understand it—then maybe you should find someone else who can provide it for you.” Richard held his breath, because this was the first time he had ever used her now familiar complaint to try to put some distance between them.
She was silent for a long moment. “No, Richard, that's not what I want. I want you. I don't know if it has dawned on you, but I actually love you. However,” and she paused again and spoke slowly, “if I can't have you, then maybe Janet needs to know what a great lover you really are, first hand from me.”
Now it was time for Richard to be silent. Touché, he thought, as he imagined a phone call from Kristen to Janet.
“No, no,” he said. “I'm just thinking of you. I know it's very difficult for us. If it weren't for the kids,” he lied, “I would have left Janet long ago. I just don't know what to do. And now I'm late to get home to take the kids to dinner, and I don't know what to tell you.”
“Well, Richard, I just want you to know that I'm not happy with this situation. Either way there are consequences. Leave Janet, or stay with Janet. You have to choose. But I can't go on much longer with this in-between situation. I'm not happy. Something has got to change.”
Richard's hands and forehead were damp. He was pacing back and forth behind his desk, in front of his huge window. “OK, Kristen, I hear you. Maybe with summer vacation coming we can spend more time together, like when Janet and the kids go to visit her mother. I don't know right now. But I hear you and will try to figure something out.”
“All right, Richard, but it seems pretty simple to me. One day soon you're going to have to choose between us. See you Tuesday,” and she hung up.
Richard looked out at the city below him. Ultimatums from both women in one day. Indeed there would be consequences! Why couldn't they just rock along? Why did he have to choose? For a moment he imagined himself to be a tightrope walker, perched at that lofty altitude, with a balance bar held between his hands. On one end of the balance bar was Janet—on the other end was Kristen. And there was no net below him…
The TV5 news van not only had spacious seating, but also enough television and communication equipment to make it a small studio. For tonight's experiment it had been fitted with a special television link, which could monitor the scene being selected by Mark in the director's booth back at the station, simulating what would be shown in September on the actual live broadcast around the nation.
Bill Shaw drove the van, with Bob Grissom from Network seated up front. Connie, who had the most technical expertise, operated the console in the back, and Janet and Tom occupied swivel seats in the middle. Bob wore a miniature headset, which kept him in contact with Mark back at the station. At 7:30 Mark brought up the “911 Live” logo and cut to John Blevins, the local newscaster who was substituting for the as-yet-unnamed national personality who would host the network show. Behind John were several monitors, and he began a recap of the various live stories in progress around the city, which they had been following for the previous hour.
As the van followed the police car on its regular rounds, Janet and their team watched on the monitor as Mark cut skillfully back and forth between a potentially violent domestic argument on the west side of the city, an ambulance in route to a reported heart attack at a downtown restaurant, and a possible convenience store robbery on the south side. Pointing to the monitor, Bob said to Bill, “I can see now that we're going to have to invest in those wide-angle lenses. Mark is going to have to be able to pull back further to take in an entire area when the emergency vehicles get up close to a building.”
Shifting his attention to Mark and pressing the transmit button, which keyed his headset, he said “Mark, these domestic situations are going to be boring if the patrolmen simply pull up to a house and go inside. We'll either have to have several going at one time, so that you can cut back and forth. Or perhaps we can figure out a way for the officers to wear small mini-cameras, or button microphones, so we can pick up the action inside.”
“Yeah, I'm taking notes, and I concur on the equipment.”
During the first ninety minutes of the test run, Janet had to admit that the pace and the subject matter were similar to many other shows already on television. The fact that it was live did add a dimension of excitement, since no one, including the anchorperson, knew exactly what would happen next. Mark Pugh and John Blevins each did a skillful job of keeping the tempo upbeat during several slow moments. By this time in the evening, several of the original situations were still “in play,” and John ran through recaps of each situation after their commercial breaks, as if they were following several football games at once.
Suddenly, over the police net came the code for a possible armed robbery in progress at a fast food restaurant only two exits north of their position on the interstate. An employee had tripped a silent alarm, and the police vehicle in front of them in the left lane turned on its blue lights and sped up to respond.
As the news van accelerated to keep up and turned on its yellow flashing roof lights, the car just ahead of the cruiser in the far left lane swerved quickly to the right, into the middle of the three lanes, to let the two-car convoy pass. Unfortunately, this move and the sudden multicolored flashing lights startled the driver of the car in the middle lane, who slammed on his brakes. The driver of a large tractor trailer, following too closely behind, tried a combination of brakes and a swerve, but swiped a small car in the far right lane and caused the large rig to jackknife.
As the TV5 van gathered speed, directly behind it there was a huge pile-up on the interstate, with several cars swerving and braking successfully, but others not so lucky. Bill caught the first unusual motions in the rearview mirror and swore. As the others spun around to look, he slowed down and moved over to the emergency lane. The police car did the same, and the two officers were already radioing for fire trucks and ambulances over the net.
Because there was now no traffic behind them, the police car turned around on the deserted pavement, and, with its blue light flashing, raced back to the wreckage, where already there was smoke from one fire. Janet and the others sat for a second, stunned by what they saw. Then Bob yelled to Bill, “Come on man, let's go. This is perfect! I can't believe it. Mark, are you getting this!?!”
“Yes…the camera on the police cruiser is working perfectly. It's fantast
ic. Can you give me any details? We'll cut right to this when the commercial ends.”
While Bob told Mark their position and the little he knew, Bill turned the van around and drove toward the parked cruiser and the crushed autos. Traffic in the southbound three lanes had also stopped, and people were rushing everywhere, some obviously hurt, some trying to help.
“I wish we had a mobile camera and a reporter with us,” Bob said under his breath. Then to Mark, “How soon can you get the chopper here? The road will be jammed.”
As Bill brought the van to a stop right in front of the car that had originally applied its brakes, they could see, even in the fading light, that another car, the small one which had been in the right lane, was partially crushed between the first car and the massive cab of the tractor trailer. A young man, bleeding terribly from his head, dragged himself through the smashed window of the driver's door and fell on the concrete, then immediately pulled himself up and staggered around to the other side of the car, looking inside.
“Are you getting this?” Bob almost screamed into his mike. He was answered by the scene in front of them flashing onto their television monitor, from just a slightly different angle, caused by the offset of the camera at the police car's position. And they heard the voice-over by John Blevins, describing the live shot of the obvious carnage on the northern interstate connector. “It's fantastic! Just what we hoped for!” Bob said to all of them. Janet was nearly in shock. This is what they had hoped for? Obvious injury, terrible destruction, and probable death? She opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but before she could speak, Tom reached across to open the sliding door. “We've got to go help. I think there's someone still inside that crushed car, and there's gasoline everywhere.”
On the Edge Page 17