White Cell

by B Regan Asher

  “The Holiday Inn, Mom,” he told his mother. “The Holiday Inn at Yorkdale. If you stay there you can walk to the Yorkdale shopping mall. And it’s not downtown and it’s a pretty good neighbourhood. Also, it’s right on the 401 so I can come visit you easily tomorrow.”

  “Oh Jimmy,” his mother said, relieved. “You’ll come see me tomorrow?” He could hear the relief in his mother’s voice.

  “Sure Mom. Of course I’ll come see you,” he said. “I won’t be able to stay long, just a quick visit to make sure you are alright.”

  “Bless you Jimmy,” said his mother. “Bless you.”

  “Are you okay to call the insurance company and get to the hotel?” asked Jim.

  “Oh yes,” said his mother. She was must less frantic now. Jim could hear her calming down. “Now I feel much better. The policeman who took my report said he would drive me wherever I need to go when I’m ready.”

  “Good Mom,” said Jimmy. “That sounds very good.” He waited for his mother to say something, but all he heard was silence. At least she was not frantic any more. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow afternoon,” he eventually said. He then did some quick thinking regarding his timing. “Sometime in the afternoon,” he repeated. “Alright?”

  “Oh Jimmy,” said his mother, in a grateful voice. “I will be waiting for you Jimmy.”

  “See you then Mom.”

  “Bye,” said his mother.

  “Bye Mom,” said Jim.

  Jim hung up the phone and thought about his mother. She could have been hurt during a robbery, he realized. Then he decided that he will have to make sure that she put in a burglar alarm. He thought how fortunate he was that he had already arranged for the car with Ben. Just as he thought about the car, Ben came up behind him and threw a set of keys on his desk.

  “There you go buddy,” he said. “Take care of my baby. It’s parked in my parking spot at the apartment.”

  “Thanks,” said Jim.

  “No problem. Cily and I are going to O’Dooley’s for dinner tonight,” said Ben. “Want to tag along?”

  “Thanks away, but I think I’ll pass,” said Jim. “I’m a little short today,” he said sheepishly, patting his wallet.

  Ben, who decided to pass on his usual money quip, turned to go. Then, as an afterthought, he turned back to Jim. “And good luck tomorrow,” he said with a wink.

  “Thanks,” said Jim, turning to his monitor in order to avoid Ben’s gaze.

  After Ben had left, Jim swore aloud but to himself. He was more than a little ashamed of himself that he lad let Ben continue to think he was going on a date with Penny. Boy, he thought, did he ever hate lying to his best friend.

  ***

  “Where’s Ben?” said Cindy, when Ben arrived at O’Dooley’s on his own. Ben and Cindy were sitting across from one another in a large booth at the back of their favourite bar cum restaurant. On the table was only Cindy’s half consumed pint of beer.

  “He decided not to come,” said Ben. “Money again,” he added.

  Cindy nodded knowingly.

  “Besides,” said Ben. “He probably had to save up for his date with Penny tomorrow.”

  “What date?” asked Cindy, trying to downplay what seemed to be confusion.

  “He asked to borrow my car to take out Penny on Saturday,” said Ben. “I thought Penny would have told you.”

  “No way!” said Cindy.

  “Yes way,” said Ben.

  “No way,” said Cindy again, resolutely. “And I mean ‘no way’. I just spoke to Penny an hour ago. She’s got nothing planned this weekend. There is no way that Jim called Penny.”

  “Maybe she is keeping it to herself,” suggested Ben. “You know, until she sees how it goes.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Cily. “Penny would tell me something like this. I know Penny. She wouldn’t keep it to herself.”

  “So you’re telling me that Jim lied to me?” asked Ben, leaning back, his hands now stretched out beside him.

  “I’m telling you that Penny does not have a date with Jim,” said Cindy. “If that means that Jim lied to you then so be it.”

  “Hmm,” said Ben, thinking.

  Cindy interrupted Ben’s thoughts. “And just to prove the point, Penny and I are spending the day together tomorrow. And I told her that the three of us would go out tomorrow night. So there’s not really much room for misunderstanding, is there?”

  “Not much room at all,” admitted Ben. After a short pause, he added, “I’m going to go over there after dinner.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Cindy.

  ***

  Jim was sitting in his living room watching television when the lobby buzzer sounded. He felt that his server room was cursed and so he had avoided it for the last several days. Jim would not be able to go back to his hacking until the money issues had been resolved. Hopefully tomorrow would provide that resolution.

  “Who is it?” Jim asked, standing at the intercom.

  “Ben and Cily,” came the reply from Ben.

  Jim buzzed them through the lobby doors and Ben and Cindy walked out of the elevator three minutes later. Jim was waiting in his doorway when Ben shouted at him from down the corridor.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re up to?” asked Ben, yelling from 100 feet down the corridor.

  Jim did not answer but looked at Ben’s face as he approached the apartment door. Then he looked at Cindy. They both looked angry.

  “What’s up?” asked Jim, his face registering confusion.

  “You know exactly what’s up,” said Ben, angrily. “You don’t have a date with Penny tomorrow.”

  Jim’s face transformed from confusion to embarrassment and he shrunk back into the apartment. Once they were all seated in the living room he looked right at Ben. “How did you know?” asked Jim, quietly.

  “Because I’m spending the whole day tomorrow with Penny,” said Cindy, also angry.

  “What a shitty thing to do,” said Ben. “To lie to a friend.”

  Jim thought quickly. He could not tell them about the meeting with Verde. That would court disaster because Ben was dead set against that meeting. But the worst outcome would be if Ben did not let him use the car. Then it occurred to Jim that sometimes there was a silver lining on every cloud. He was ashamed of what he was going to do but he could not see any harm coming from it.

  “It’s my Mom,” said Jim.

  “What do you mean?” asked Ben, his expression changing from anger to concern.

  “My mom was robbed,” said Jim. Then he thought he needed to make it more serious. “At gunpoint,” he added. He looked at their faces and realized it was working.

  “Oh my God,” exclaimed Cily.

  “Is you mom alright?” asked Ben.

  “She’s fine,” said Jim.

  “When did this happen?” asked Cily.

  “Just …” began Jim. Then, as quick as a computer can add two numbers, Jim caught himself. He realized that he could not tell them it happened today because he had asked for the car yesterday. He realized he would have to twist the truth just a little bit to make it believable.

  “Just yesterday my mom’s house was robbed,” said Jim. “And she was in it, asleep. The robbers woke her and scared the shit out of her. I wanted to go visit her tomorrow. She is staying in a hotel for a few days and I just want to see her for a few hours. You know, for support.”

  “Oh sure,” said Ben.

  “She’ll need your support,” said Cindy.

  “Why didn’t you tell me all this before?” asked Ben.

  It took just an instant for Jim to search for and find another twisted answer. “I just wanted to protect Mom’s privacy. That’s all. Sorry for that.”

  “Would you like us to come along?” asked Cindy. Thank God Cindy displayed no suspicion of his answers, thought Jim.

  “Oh sure,” agreed Ben. “We could come along.” Ben also showed no suspicion. What good friends these were, thought Jim. What a jerk
I am, he thought.

  “Gee, thanks,” said Jim. “But the last thing I think Mom needs is a bunch of visitors. I know you guys mean well but I think it’s better if I go by myself.”

  “I understand,” said Ben, nodding.

  “Is there anything else we can do?” asked Cindy.

  “I don’t think so,” said Jim. “But thanks.”

  “Listen,” said Ben. “We’ve already had dinner, but do you want come down to O’Dooley’s for a drink?”

  “Can’t,” said Jim. “I’ve got to get an early start tomorrow.”

  “Sure,” said Ben, nodding again.

  Cindy, who now looked genuinely upset by the news, did not say anything.

  Chapter 12 - Toronto

  Sat May 8th

  Jim hardly slept Friday night and he was very, very nervous about his upcoming meeting with Giuseppe Verde. Neither was a good starting point for a long drive. He knew he could drive to Toronto in just under four hours but he did not want to risk being late. Construction or an accident could easily delay him by an hour and so he decided to allow himself five hours for the trip. If the trip went smoothly the extra time could be used for coffee stops. He collected Ben’s car from the apartment parking garage at 7:00am and soon thereafter was on the highway driving west.

  After driving for twenty minutes he felt his hands begin to ache. He took his eyes of the road long enough to see that his hands had been clenched around the wheel so tightly that they were shaking. He started wiggling his fingers to relieve the aching and, almost immediately, the pain in his hands subsided. He had hoped that by the time he started driving his anxiety would subside. It had not.

  He returned his attention to the road. To his surprise, the automobile had already begun to veer onto the shoulder and, just as the wheels hit the gravel, Jim turned the wheel sharply to the left and pulled the car back onto the road. He looked around the car in all directions looking for other cars. Or police. There were very few other cars on the road and no one had seen what had happened. Jim blinked and then he blinked again. He now knew that he was going to have to concentrate hard to keep the car on the road.

  To Jim the odd thing about his lack of concentration was that he was usually invigorated by a road trip. Somehow, today was different. He knew he was too tense and he knew Verde was a contributing factor. He knew his mother was another factor. But he felt that the main cause of his angst was concern about his future. And his entire future hung on the outcome of this trip.

  In the town of Smith’s Falls, about an hour out of Ottawa, Jim stopped to pick up a coffee. A newspaper box caught his eye and Jim walked over to it, reading what was visible of the first article. The RCMP was still indicating to the kidnappers that it would listen their demands. But no demands had yet been forthcoming.

  “And I thought the police wouldn’t negotiate with terrorists,” Jim muttered to himself.

  He got back in the car and continued to drive south on Highway 15 toward the 401, the East-West highway that would take him to Toronto. At first there were just a few drops on the windshield and then a few more. Finally it started raining in earnest. Then, without warning, water poured out of the sky as if someone had turned on a tap. Jim slowed down the car until he was only travelling at 60kph. Even so, he could barely see 50 feet in front of him. The windshield wipers were working frantically on their fastest setting to clear the water but the droplets were so big and appeared so quickly that clearing the windshield was an impossible task.

  It continued to rain for the next hour. Just over two hours outside of Ottawa Jim reached the 401 and turned west toward Toronto. He looked at his watch. It was 9:15 and he estimated that he had lost a half hour because of the rain storm. He still had lots of time yet he decided to drive a little faster. The highway was full of cars but the traffic continued to move well until fifteen minutes to the west of Kingston. Jim then noticed brake lights ahead of him. He applied his brakes, coming to a complete stop. The traffic was now not moving at all.

  He looked at his watch: 9:38. He waited, standing still in traffic, and then looked at his watch again: 9:45. He still had not moved. 9:49. Shit. Jim thought about moving onto the shoulder to pass the traffic. 9:52. Shit, shit. He was coming dangerously close to being late for his appointment with Verde. What if Verde gave up on him? What if Verde decided not to lend him the money? Jim started to turn the wheel in an attempt to move onto the shoulder but then, unexpectedly and ever so slowly, the traffic started to move. Soon he was moving at a decent clip though not even at the speed limit. But he was very grateful. He looked at his watch again: 9:58. He was now almost at the speed limit but he had lost another 20 minutes. He did a quick calculation and decided he would arrive at Giuseppe Verde’s house at 11:50 if he made no more stops and if nothing else went wrong. Jim was now so worried that he would be late that he consciously decided not to stop again until he reached Verde’s house.

  Then he was there. He drove up a long driveway that wound through a forested front garden, parked, and knocked at the front door. As he waited for someone to answer, he looked around. The house was an imposing Tudor and it intimidated Jim. Finally, the door opened and a large man with crooked teeth was snarling down at him.

  “What?” asked the man, half growling.

  Jim looked up at the man, who had to be seven feet tall. “Jim Kincaid to see Giuseppe Verde,” said Jim.

  “You’re late!” said the man. “And I’m not going to deal with some little runt like you who’s late.” He then slammed the door in Jim’s face.

  Jim blinked and looked at the road. He then looked at the speedometer and saw that he was moving at the speed limit. He knew that his day dream had been his worst fear, that late or not, Verde would not loan him the money he so desperately needed. As he continued to move along with the traffic without incident, he started to feel better about his timing. He glanced at the clock on the dash and saw that it was 11:20. But, looking at the road in front of him as he approached Oshawa, a city about a half hour east of Toronto, the traffic began to slow again. After a few minutes he was driving at half the posted speed limit. Then the traffic slowed to a crawl and stopped. For the next ten minutes the traffic started and stopped in a continuous cycle. The whole time Jim kept looking at the clock. It was now 11:33 and Jim knew that, save a miracle, he would not be on time for his meeting with Verde. Why had he not left more time?

  Jim was looking at the clock when he was startled by the sound of a car passing him on his right. What was that? Then another car did the same. Jim looked in his rear view mirror to find several more cars driving on the shoulder, passing him on his right. Jim tried to see where these cars were going and he discovered that they eventually merged with the cars that were in front of him. The merging was an untidy affair where they had to push back into the traffic but it meant that these cars were jumping the line. Cars that had been behind him were now in front of him. And he was hardly moving at all.

  Jim decided that the only thing he could do was to block them. He slowly moved Ben’s car so that it straddled his lane and the shoulder so that no one could pass him on either side. The cars on the shoulder were beeping at him but Jim ignored them. He then saw the driver of the first car in the line behind him roll down his window and yell at him. Jim turned around and sneered at the driver. By the time the traffic began moving again he had lost another fifteen minutes. It was 11:55 and he was very late. And he was very worried.

  Jim was now driving along at a good clip, travelling at well over the speed limit. In fact, Jim was zigzagging in and out of the three main traffic lanes in order to make up as much time as possible. He was zipping in between the cars so quickly that he did not have enough time to signal. On one of his lane changes, as he moved to the left, he narrowly missed a small car that was travelling in his blind spot. The car, seeing Jim swerve, indicated its displeasure to Jim with a loud, extensive honk. Jim turned his wheel quickly to the right in order to realign his car with his original lane. He was quite
relieved to find that he had not been hit but he was panicking and he knew it.

  Travelling at 130kph, 30 kilometres over the posted speed limit, Jim felt he was doing very well. He looked down at the clock and saw the time: 12:10. When he looked back up he saw the sign for the Toronto city limits. Jim had used the internet to find directions to Verde’s house and he now pulled the directions out of his shirt pocket and read them, still travelling at 130kph. He exited the highway at Yonge Street and headed south toward Verde’s Rosedale neighbourhood. After a while he noticed that the makeup of the traffic had changed somewhat. The cars became larger and more foreign. There were definitely more German cars, especially Mercedes and BMWs. The traffic was moving but it was moving slowly. How he wished he owned a cell phone. He looked at the car clock again. 12:27. He also hoped to God that the Mapquest directions he had downloaded were correct.

  To Jim’s relief, Mapquest was right and at 12:36 he pulled in front of Verde’s Rosedale mansion. The directions had been impeccable and he had not had any more traffic problems. But now, sitting in front of Verde’s home, Jim was filled with self doubt. He was no longer sure that this was the right thing to do. A series of thoughts flashed through his mind: Mike’s convenient appearance, Ben’s concerns and Sondra’s experience with Mike. And then he thought about why he was here: the banks, the potential loss of his server room, and the hopelessness of his situation without someone like Verde. Jim’s heart was beating very quickly and he could feel its pressure against his chest and in his neck and face. Each heart beat pushed out against his skin. Jim took a deep breath and tried to assure himself that this was his only chance for salvation. It did not help but that did not matter. Jim knew what he had to do.