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Anything Page 13

by Michael Baron


  “Tell me what you’ve found,” he said softly.

  “You really don’t know?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  I approached the counter slowly. I don’t think I’d ever walked this far into the store without my eye landing on some remarkable item or other. Today, the only thing I noticed was the carpet.

  “She’s gone,” I said. “Completely gone. We never met, she doesn’t live in Washington, and she has a completely different, completely fabulous life without me.”

  Stephon seemed touched by the news. “You knew this could happen.”

  “To tell you the truth, I had no idea this could happen. I mean, after seeing Melissa and Hoffman, I didn’t think about much of anything other than destroying that horrible woman.”

  “You did save Melissa from her, didn’t you?”

  I shook my head sadly. “I did.”

  “And you say she has a great life now.”

  “She certainly seems to. She’s a professional musician. I never knew it, but this is what she always wanted.”

  “Then you did a great thing for her.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, I did.”

  “But?”

  “But I did a terrible thing for me. Not to mention what’s happened to my friend Paul, or that my assistant thinks she works for an unfeeling jerk, or that my cleaning person needs to wear a HazMat suit every time he comes to my apartment.”

  “I tried to explain to you that there could be unfortunate consequences to your actions.”

  I threw my arms up in the air. “I know you did. I mean, I heard you say it, though I didn’t really comprehend it. There has to be something I can do. There has to be something you can do. Don’t I get a third wish or something?”

  Stephon smiled dimly. “That’s a different magic trick, and not one I’m capable of performing, I’m afraid.”

  “You can send me back again, can’t you? There has to be a way to set this up. I’ll give it a huge amount of thought this time before I go. I’ll arrange a way for me to meet Melissa just before she gets her big break. I’ll set up signposts.”

  Stephon held up a hand to stop me. I hadn’t intended to do this when I came here, but I couldn’t help myself. “I don’t think you realize what this cost me,” he said gravely. “I can’t send you back again. It’s impossible.”

  I felt physically heavier with those words. “You really can’t?”

  “I’ll never be able to do that for you again.”

  I rubbed my face with my hand. “I can’t believe how totally I’ve screwed up my life. Why didn’t I anticipate this?”

  Stephon leaned forward and touched me on the shoulder. It was a surprisingly intimate act. “What would you have done if you had anticipated it?”

  The unexpected physical gesture shook me. “What do you mean?”

  “What would you have done if you knew things were going to turn out exactly the way they turned out? If you knew that your alternatives were allowing Melissa to carry a terrible scar the rest of her life or freeing her at the cost of losing her, would you have chosen not to go back that second time?”

  He took his hand from my shoulder and I held his gaze for several long seconds before I answered. “I would have gone back,” I said, absolutely convinced of the fact.

  He nodded sadly. “I know you would have. That’s why I did what I had to do to get you there.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “Now you have to live with your decision and do what you can to make the most out of your life.”

  “You mean I should forget about Melissa?”

  “I never said that.”

  “I can’t. I won’t. Ever.”

  “Nor should you.”

  “But I have no idea what to do without her. I’ve never felt lost before. But I feel completely lost now.”

  “What do you think Melissa would want you to do?”

  I knew the answer to that question. I just never thought for a second that I would ever put that knowledge to use.

  *

  Melissa looked like a soldier when she stepped out of the bedroom. Her appearance was so martial that I snapped to attention and gave her a stiff salute worthy of the Marine guards at the White House. Melissa responded with two fingers to her forehead and laughed.

  “I think you have me mistaken for my father,” she said with a chuckle.

  She was dressed in a khaki jacket and pants with enough pockets to supply an entire platoon for a week. Her brow was hidden under a wide-brimmed bush hat that looked like a leftover from a safari documentary. The owner at the camping equipment store could have bought a yacht with the profits he made from selling her all that outdoor gear. Her equipment was supposed to be appropriate for environmentalists spending two weeks in the Amazon.

  “I think your inner Colonel is coming out,” I said. “Why do I have the sudden desire to call you ‘sir?’”

  “Do it once and you’ll regret it the rest of your life, Mister.” She looked down at her duds and then up at me quizzically. “It’s pretty awful, isn’t it? Not to mention that these new jungle boots are killing my feet.”

  I smiled. “You look great. You really do. You should have gotten this outfit months ago. Promise me you’ll wear it for me again when you get back.”

  “Is everything a turn-on to you?”

  “You are always a turn-on to me. Even when you’re dressed like G.I. Jane.”

  She rolled her eyes, smiled, and looked up at the ceiling. When she looked back down, though, her expression was different. She pulled a folded paper from her jacket pocket. “Ken, I have to be at Dulles in an hour. I want to talk to you about something before the car service gets here. You know the place where I’m going has some problems.”

  “I’ve tried to avoid thinking about that.” That wasn’t true. I’d thought about little else since Melissa told me about this insane mission of hers. Where she was going was full of Marxist guerrillas killing capitalists, right-wing paramilitaries killing guerrillas, and cocaine growers killing anyone who stumbled on their jungle operations. It was one of those areas where the good guys and the bad guys were often the same, and travel agents crossed themselves before accepting your reservation. I tried to convince her not to go, but a crisis drew her like a moth to a flame. Extinction was threatening some rare species of rodent with a long Latin name that looked like a furry baseball with teeth. I certainly didn’t want the animal to disappear off the face of the earth – but I wanted Melissa put in harm’s way a whole lot less.

  “You have to think about it.”

  “What if I don’t want to? What if I choose not to understand why you’re going to one of the most dangerous places on the planet to save a rat?”

  “Don’t be that way, Ken. You know how important this is to me. This is why I do what I do. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is seeing my efforts undermined by special interests day in and day out?”

  “We’ve had a few conversations about it, yes.” There were days when Melissa could barely speak at night because of her pent-up frustrations.

  “Well, I’m tired of sitting in Washington and arguing with stupid politicians and arrogant bureaucrats all day. Sometimes even I forget that what I’m doing isn’t about pushing papers or making speeches, but saving the ecology of our planet. For the first time in ages, I have a chance to go out in the field and make an active difference. I have to do this.”

  “Melissa, I know how important these things are to you and I’m very proud of you for doing them. But I just don’t think this is worth risking your life for. People get hurt out there. Seriously hurt. Every day.”

  “I’m a big girl.”

  “There are a lot of bigger men over there.”

  “I can’t live my life in a bubble, Ken. I have to be willing to act on m
y beliefs. Once this species is wiped out in the Amazon, that’s it. There will be nowhere else on earth where it can be found, and it will be gone forever. And the whole planet will die just a little bit more.”

  “There’s a tremendous chance that this species is going to die off regardless of your intervention, you know. You can’t stand guard down there forever.”

  “You may be right, but if I don’t try, I won’t be able to live with myself.” Her shoulders relaxed and she walked closer to me. “Let’s not fight like this before I go.” She sat down next to me and handed me the folded sheet. “They told us to give these to our families. It’s a list of names and phone numbers for you to call if something happens.”

  I took the sheet from her and grimaced. I knew the “something” she was talking about.

  “The people on the list know what to do if those situations occur,” she said. “They will know how to get us out.”

  “Melissa, I read the newspapers. I’ve also handled cases for multinational companies who operate in that region. They take out special insurance polices to pay the five million dollars those kidnappers out there charge. I also know what the kidnappers do if they don’t get their money right away.”

  She wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “That’s not going to happen. This is just a precaution. Americans go in and out of that region all the time.” She kissed me on the cheek. It was hard to feel her body through all the gear. “Besides, who would be dumb enough to think that anyone would pay five million dollars for me?”

  “I’d pay every penny I made for the rest of my life.”

  She squeezed me and tried a smile. “I’d better be careful then. I mean, what’s the point of coming home if we’re going to be broke?”

  Her attempt at humor didn’t work on me.

  “Listen,” she said. “I know everything is going to be all right. Our people on the ground there know how to keep us safe. If something does happen, though, just remember that I love you and I want you to live the rest of your life the best way you can.”

  “Is the fact that you feel the need to make this speech supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Hey, maybe I’m doing it because it makes me feel better. Here’s the rest of it: I know you will wait a while, but don’t wait forever. Find a nice girl and bring as much joy and laughter into her life as you have brought into mine. Promise me you will do that.”

  “I’m not making any promises.”

  “You have to. You can’t send me out there without this promise.”

  “Can I be really miserable and just screw around a lot?”

  Melissa squeezed me harder and put her face right up against mine. I could feel her breath in my ear and I ached for her to stay right here beside me. “Promise,” she said forcefully.

  I closed my eyes. “I promise.”

  She pushed me away from her. “Really? You would just forget about me like that?”

  “You know how unfair this is, right?”

  She moved into my lap and kissed me. “I’m serious. I always want you to be happy. Even if it can’t be with me.”

  Chapter 14

  Mind Eraser

  “I promise,” I said as I sat in my recliner shrouded in solitude and darkness. The lights were off, except for the red bead of the answering machine and the liquid green glow of the clock on the cable box. It was nearly ten o’clock.

  Melissa wanted me to make the most of my life. Stephon wanted me to make the most of my life. How, exactly, did one go about doing that? I hadn’t been looking for a total life transformation when I met Melissa. I wasn’t expecting to gain entry to a whole level of existence so much richer and more satisfying than I knew possible. But now that I was aware it was out there, I also knew how many things had to go exactly right to attain it. Trying to recapture it without Melissa seemed about as possible as a Cinderella team winning a world championship two years in a row, or catching a glimpse of the Aurora Borealis by just walking outside.

  What was “the most of my life” without Melissa?

  The rest of the night and all the next day I played Melissa’s albums and wallowed. No, this wasn’t moving forward, but I frankly didn’t care.

  On Monday, Harrison Warwick knocked on my office door. As usual, he had a Cuban cigar in his mouth – unlit because of city laws – and he bore the well-fed look of a man treated generously by life. His hair was the silver of a shiny quarter, his paunch spilled comfortably over his belt buckle, and the cost of his suit exceeded the gross national product of several nations. He was a dandy and a boor. He was also a world-class lawyer, born to power and well-trained in using it.

  “I have noticed how you have been spending your time,” he said once he closed the door behind him.

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s obvious that you have been working very hard the last few months. You know I’m not big on back-patting, but I wanted to let you know that your zeal has not gone unnoticed.”

  He should have seen me yesterday morning. “I’m just putting my nose to the grindstone, that’s all.”

  “It’s impressive when someone with your talents decides to turn up the intensity. I just wanted you to know that the partners and I are aware of this. We have some decisions to make around here. You’re making at least one of them easy.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “No reason to thank me, Ken. Just keep producing.”

  I gestured toward the brief on my desk. “Doing just that, Mr. Warwick.”

  Warwick nodded. “I won’t take any more of your time.”

  He left the office, closing the door behind him. My eyes stayed on the door for a minute after he left. Obviously, I knew what Warwick was talking about. The decisions he referred to regarded fifth-year associates. My goal from the time I’d left law school was to make partner in my early thirties. Now my boss was suggesting I was on track. Under different circumstances, a conversation like this would have been cause for me to pick up the phone and crow for a little while, but I had no one to crow to. There was no one in my life who really cared whether I made partner or not. And if it happened, there would be people to celebrate with, but no one who really understood how much this meant to me.

  My intercom sounded.

  “Mr. Timian, Marty Gaynor is in the reception area. You don’t have an appointment with him. Would you like to see him?”

  Marty Gaynor? It had been a long time. I looked down at my calendar and saw that I had a few minutes before my next appointment. “Sure, Sharon, bring him in.”

  Marty knocked on the door and bounded into the room. He was built like a fullback, with thick brows overshadowing dark, darting eyes. He had a sharp legal mind and he was also clever enough to use his thuggish features to disarm and intimidate his opponents. We’d met years ago, going toe-to-toe on a case. We bloodied each other and then became friends over several dozen drinks when the trial was over.

  “Hey, Ken,” he said in his booming voice.

  “Hey, Marty. This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”

  “Had to stop by to confer with one of your colleagues. Thought I’d come see how you were doing.”

  “Yeah, thanks. It’s been a while.” Melissa had taken an instant dislike to Marty. It probably had something to do with the way he leered at her when they met. Or maybe the way he ridiculed her chosen profession. Or perhaps his eating habits. Or the fact that he instructed the waiter to “keep the drinks coming” when we sat down. She never explained and she didn’t have to. I hadn’t seen him socially since, dodging a few invitations until he got the message.

  “Yeah, well that bitch ball and chain was a real problem.”

  I nearly sprung out of my seat to pummel him until I realized that he couldn’t have meant Melissa. “What are you talking about?”

  “I finally dumped Lynn. I thought I’d stop by personally to gi
ve you the good news. I can’t believe I let her drag me around for the past few months. She even had me convinced that I needed to spend less time hanging out with people like you. As of yesterday afternoon, she’s history.”

  I nodded, trying to comprehend all of this.

  “So now I need to make up for lost time,” he said coarsely. “Friday, the Shamrock Saloon, seven o’clock. A little jailbreak party for me. I assume you’ll join in the celebration.”

  The idea made me a little queasy. My memories of nights at the Shamrock with Marty were hazy for good reason. “Gee, Marty, I’m not sure I can get away on Friday. Warwick was just in here hassling me about improving my level of production. I’m probably going to be working straight through the weekend.”

  Marty hurried to the window and peered through the blinds. “That’s funny, the sun hasn’t gone nova, but Ken Timian is passing up a night on the town. Maybe I should call Lynn and ask her if hell has frozen over. She’d know – she gets the news firsthand from her mother.”

  “I’m afraid it’s a matter of priorities, Marty. If Warwick the Lesser tells you to put your nose to the grindstone – especially when you’re in your fifth year – you grind away.”

  “Hey, I know a little something about hard work. I’ve been in four cities over the last two weeks. My mind is on Zurich time and my body thinks it’s in Korea. But do you see me stiffing my friends? We’re both entitled to let off some steam after hours. Hey, go back to the office afterward. It wouldn’t be the first time – assuming you don’t get a better offer from one of the ladies. I mean, what would these festivities be without you? Everyone will ask where you are. I don’t want to have to tell them that The King of Friday Night has turned into a wimp.”

  The King of Friday Night? Even in the wildest of my pre-Melissa days, I had not acquired that moniker. What, exactly, had I been up to?

  “I have not turned into a wimp. Maybe I’ve just grown up. Have you checked your birth certificate lately?”

 

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