Mr. 365

by Clampett, Ruth

  When he sees me still holding Romeo, he furrows his brow, scans the two of us, and then turns to look in the direction I came from. I realize I’m breathing in gasps as I wipe my tears from my face.

  As soon as the police intervene, the men start yelling.

  “He tried to kill me!” Darrell yells, pointing at Will.

  “And you fucked us over, did that TV crap and didn’t pay us!” Fred yells, his face redder than normal.

  “You set my house on fire and tried to kill my dog, you bastard!” Will roars back.

  Fred looks around frantically once he sees me. “Where’s George?” he yells.

  I step up to the policeman and point to George. The policeman immediately radios for an ambulance and backup.

  The firemen have put out the blaze, leaving the smell of smoke and charred wood wafting around us.

  “Are you okay? What about Romeo?” Will calls through the chaos, an urgency in his voice.

  “I’m fine, but we need to get him to the vet hospital.”

  A minute later the ambulance and the police backup show up. The scene becomes even more intense and chaotic as Will, Fred, and Darrell are all apprehended and George is loaded in the ambulance. Meanwhile one of the policemen questions me about the events and asks what happened with Romeo. He gets the information for Romeo’s vet from Will and calls ahead to alert them.

  The police decide to take everyone to the station for questioning and to file charges with one of the cars escorting me to the animal hospital.

  They’re about to load Will into the backseat of one of the squad cars when I rush over. I realize we haven’t had a moment since this crisis started. One minute we’re peacefully sleeping in each other’s arms and the next, being questioned by the police. I rest my hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry for all of this, Will,” I say softly.

  “Me too. I think I’m in shock.” His face is twisted in pain as he gently cradles Romeo’s head in his hands. He looks up with the saddest eyes. “Please, baby, get word to me that he’s going to be okay. Please.”

  My heart skips. “What do you mean, get word to you? I’m meeting you guys at the station for the questioning.”

  He shakes his head and lets it drop. “This isn’t good, Sophia. I’m just saying, I’m not sure how all of this is going to go down.”

  The change is almost instant. It’s as if a thin suit of armor, like the ones in futuristic sci-fi films, slides over his skin. I can see him toughening up right before my eyes, morphing him into the street kid of his youth.

  He grits his teeth and his voice is rough. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” He grimaces and looks away. “I’m screwed.”

  “But none of this is your fault. They did this!”

  He shakes his head, defeated. “Doesn’t matter. No one ever said life was fair.”

  I feel the final piece of his armor lock in place as the policeman pulls him away.

  As the hours pass during the night that never ends, a deep feeling of remorse takes shape in me, twisting and turning until I’m completely saturated with it. This is all my fault. If I’d never coerced Will to do the show, none of this would’ve happened.

  Romeo is in intensive care with something called pneumothorax because one of his broken ribs tore a small hole in his right lung. The vet informs me it’s very serious but assures me that Romeo’s one of the toughest dogs he’s seen. He has a fighting chance. I cling onto hope, as I can’t imagine what it’ll do to Will if his little guy doesn’t pull through.

  At the station, the questioning and confusion drones on and on. As Will warned me, he’s in a really bad position since Fred and Darrell are pressing charges against him and the savage nature of his attack on Darrell only makes things worse. As a result, he’s arrested and held overnight.

  Darrell earns a similar fate for the arson crime and attack on Romeo. By four in the morning, Fred is allowed to leave to go be with George at the hospital. They’ve received word that he’s conscious now, but they’re keeping him for observation.

  The desk sergeant insists I go home and get a couple of hours of rest. I linger for a while, feeling horrible about leaving Will, but finally agree. I can get help for him first thing in the morning.

  I get into my car and the illuminated clock on my dashboard screams five twenty-two. I count the hours back in my head. Seven hours ago my world was right. Will’s enchanted house made me believe my life was a fairy tale with my dashing prince and his faithful dog. If someone were writing my life story that section would be written in pink with little hearts doodled in the margins.

  Will has changed my world in so many ways. Until tonight our future was destined to be an endless strand of Christmas lights burning brightly in the darkness.

  I turn on the ignition and shiver from the cold night air. Could things be bleaker? As I pull out of the parking lot I pause, not knowing where to go. Will’s or my place? Or perhaps I should go to church and pray for our world to right itself now that everything’s been turned upside down.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When my alarm goes off at eight in the morning, I want to hurl it against the wall. I feel disoriented and shaky as I sit up and try to get my bearings. I barely remember changing into my pj’s and crawling into bed after the night from hell.

  I stumble into the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. After finding my cell phone, I sit down to make a few calls. I’m on my fifth call before I finally get True Blue’s attorney, Martin Rasner, on the phone.

  “You spent the night at the police station with the client?” he asks, sounding very concerned. “Can you explain why you were with him that late in the first place?”

  Flustered, I get defensive. “We were making plans for the… next shoot,” I stutter. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Oh, that’s very convincing, Sophia. Late night planning meetings with young male subjects are always such a good idea,” Martin says dryly.

  “Martin, we need to get him out of jail this morning at nine, on the dot,” I snap.

  “Sophia, if he beat the crap out of his neighbor and ended up being locked up, why is that our problem? He sounds like a big boy—all grown up. He can figure it out on his own. I don’t want us any more involved than we already are.”

  “Let me be clear. His neighbors attacked him because they had been promised money from us for the inconvenience from the shoot, and we hadn’t paid them yet, so they were enraged,” I say finally feeling sharp and awake.

  “They hadn’t been paid yet? The paperwork wasn’t signed?” he asks, his voice now on edge.

  “No, they hadn’t… And no, it wasn’t. It’s a long story, but regardless; this is what set them off. So, as you can see, we need to step up and do the right thing.”

  “Damn it! This has lawsuit written all over it. You’ve spent time with him. Do you sense that he’s litigious?”

  I pause for a moment. In my heart I’m certain Will isn’t that way, but right now I need everyone doing whatever they can to help him.

  “Oh, yeah. I’d worry about it. The last thing he said before they cuffed him and dragged him off was that we’d be hearing from his lawyers.” I lie, telling tell him what he needs to hear to take action.

  “Fuck!” Martin swears. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the station at nine sharp.”

  I tap my foot while Martin signs Will’s paperwork at the release desk. I want to check the time but I forgot to put my watch back on in my rush to get to the station. My stomach’s churning as I try to imagine what mood Will might be in when they get him out.

  I study the desk clerk and realize that there must have been a shift change. No one looks familiar, and the entire night now has a dreamlike quality—well, more nightmare than dream. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and listen to the low drone of the fluorescent lights. When I open my eyes again, everything has a sickly yellow-green cast. It’s that very light Will walks under when he’s finally escorted to the waiting area.


  When he spies me sitting with Martin, he eyes us warily, and stops a few feet away. Martin stands and approaches him.

  “Will, I’m Martin Rasner, the attorney from True Blue Entertainment. We’ve secured your release after your hellish night.” He pulls out a business card and hands it to Will. “Here’s my contact information if you need it.”

  Will takes the card without looking at it and jams it in his back pocket. He won’t make eye contact, and I have no idea if he’s trying to formulate what he’s going to say, or if he’s just not going to say anything at all.

  I note that Martin doesn’t extend an apology for what happened or True Blue’s part in it. Of course not. He’s a lawyer and the last thing he would do is say anything that puts his client in a bad position. It leaves a rancid taste in my mouth.

  There’s an awkward pause. Finally Martin turns to me.

  “Are you sure you’re okay driving Will home? I can do it.”

  “No, no, I insist,” I say.

  Martin studies me silently. “Okay, check in with me before lunch.” He turns to Will. “Take it easy. This will be behind you soon.”

  Will finally looks up and glares at Martin, who steps back.

  Martin spins and walks out the door.

  I turn back to Will. “I’m sorry, so sorry, Will,” I say softly, trying to hold back the tears.

  He closes his eyes and tips his head back.

  “I need to get out of here,” he says with a chilling emptiness in his voice.

  I’m almost glad he walks behind me to my car so he can’t see the tears I brush away. The drive back is excruciating. I tell him about Romeo’s condition, informing him that I got an update from the vet while Martin was signing the paperwork. He listens to me while gazing out the passenger window.

  Will only speaks once during the entire drive. “I swore I’d never be back in one of those places ever again. I swore.” He shakes his head and falls silent again.

  It’s so tense in the car, I fear anything I say will upset him, so I remain silent too. When we get close to his neighborhood he digs his fingers into his knees.

  “I need to see Romeo now. Just drop me off there.”

  It stings that he doesn’t want me there. When I approach the building, I pull into the lot and park, ignoring his drop-off instructions.

  As we step out of the car, he turns to me.

  “What are you doing?’

  “I’m coming with you,” I say, trying not to sound hurt.

  “This is my problem,” he says, his eyes cold and gray.

  “Will…” My voice sounds sad.

  He turns and walks to the entrance.

  I follow him several paces behind and take a seat in the back of the waiting area while he checks in. If I were him I’d need my space and time to process everything that happened.

  He can be angry and short with me in the short term and I’ll try to handle it. I just hope that when he looks back he’ll realize that I was, and am, there for him.

  Once he’s checked in, he’s taken back to the vet’s office, and I follow several steps behind him. He glances over his shoulder, looking annoyed like I shouldn’t be there.

  “Will, please. I care about him too.” I say quietly.

  He turns back without saying a word. He asks Daniel, Romeo’s vet, several questions before asking to see Romeo. The veterinary assistant walks us back to where Romeo’s being observed.

  “Oh, buddy,” he says, his breath catching in the back of his throat. “Romeo.”

  He turns away and blinks. His shoulders sag as he looks back at him.

  “Can I touch him?” he asks the assistant.

  “He’s sedated so he probably won’t react. Just be careful of the tube.”

  Will gently skims Romeo’s fur with his fingers.

  As I observe, I think how peaceful Romeo is. Too peaceful. It’s haunting.

  Will leans in close. “Hey, my brave little man. Thank you for protecting us. If you hadn’t barked so loud and woken us up to the fire…well, who knows what could have happened.” His voice is shaking as he talks, and he looks off to the side for a moment and grimaces.

  Just watching Will with Romeo reminds me of the whole chaotic scene and how seriously in peril we were last night.

  “Wow, he saved you?” the assistant asks, awestruck.

  Will flinches like he’s forgotten he’s not alone. He brushes a hand under his eyes and nods without raising his head.

  “He sure did,” he replies.

  “Such a brave dog, a great dog,” she says with a sweet voice.

  “The best dog ever.” He swirls his fingers on top of Romeo’s head.

  My eyes flood with tears and I hold in a sob.

  “I think we better let him rest,” The assistant says after giving Will a few more minutes with Romeo.

  “Okay, just one more thing.” Will leans even closer to Romeo. “Fight hard, little guy. You’re a champ and you will pull through this. I’m going to be here a lot until I can take you home. And when I do, I’m going to take the best care of you.” He sighs and I can feel the conviction in his words.

  “It’s you and me always, Romeo.”

  I try to steady myself and not linger on the meaning of those words.

  As Will walks back to the waiting area, he acts like I’m not there. I can feel the anger roll off him.

  “Ready?” I ask, stepping closer to get his attention.

  He silently nods and follows me outside to my car.

  I’ve driven several blocks with my hands tightly clutching the steering wheel before I break the silence.

  “Do you feel better now that you’ve seen him?”

  Will stares out his window. “We still don’t know if he will pull through. You heard Daniel. He’s stable now, which is the most we can hope for at this point. It will take a few days to know for sure.”

  I nod solemnly. “But there’s reason to be hopeful. Romeo’s under great care and I bet he was glad that you checked on him.”

  “Yeah,” he says quietly. “But he was sedated and didn’t react to me being there. At least I got to touch him and talk to him. Maybe he knows on some level that I’m there for him.”

  My breath catches. “Oh, Will.”

  It’s silent for several minutes before I speak again. “I wish we could have gotten him in right away.” I regret running down the street and holding him. That must have only made things worse.

  “Yeah, well if only it hadn’t happened at all,” he replies with a shadow of anger behind every word.

  The resulting silence is so big it fills every nook and cranny in the car, the kind of deafening silence that makes your head hurt. I’m almost relieved when I pull up to Will’s house so we can get out of the damn car.

  He’s staring at the yard when I park in the driveway.

  “The gingerbread house,” he says, as if he’s just realized that it’s gone.

  I almost don’t recognize his voice. It’s so different, an intense intonation of misery mixed with resignation.

  “It’s gone. I’m so sorry, Will,” I whisper.

  “You’re sorry? You have no idea,” he says, mostly to himself.

  I turn to him after I pull my keys out of the ignition. “Can I come in?”

  He rests his hands on his knees and takes a deep breath, staring out the front windshield.

  My heart pounds wildly as I realize things are even worse than I feared.

  He finally shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “No? I thought you could use the support. I can be there for you,” I say weakly.

  He grips his knees with his hands and loosens before doing it again. “I’ve got to get my head on straight, Sophia. I’m really angry right now, and it would probably be better for you not to be around me.”

  His words gut me while I stare at the steering wheel. He hasn’t verbally blamed me yet, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. Nothing he could say would be harsher tha
n what I’ve already said to myself.

  “When I can see you?” I ask. I hate the neediness in my voice.

  He opens the car door and steps out. He doesn’t even lean in to face me.

  “I’ll call you.” He closes the door and walks away.

  I feel so hollow I’m not sure I can breathe. I back out of his driveway carefully and drive home extra slow, my vision blurry with the first of the day’s many, many tears.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The meeting at True Blue is unusually somber until Paul pipes up.

  “As Stan Laurel would say to Oliver Hardy, Lindsey, ‘Well, that’s a fine mess you’ve gotten us into!’” Paul turns to our irritated line producer and wags his finger at her.

  “Screw you, Paul,” she says, giving him the finger. “It’s not my fault that dude and his inbred offspring are all off their rockers!”

  “Besides, Paul, you got the quote wrong. It’s ‘you’ve gotten me into.’” Aaron points out.

  “Oh, shut up,” Paul says, emphasizing each word while rolling his eyes.

  “How bad was the fire?” Rachel asks, her expression tight.

  “It could have been horrible, but thankfully it was damp out and there was no wind. The worst of it was he lost the gingerbread house he had built with his grandparents,” I say.

  “That sucks. That thing was amazingly crafted,” Aaron adds sadly.

  “Yeah but at least his fucking house didn’t burn down. With all that turn-of-the-century woodwork, it would have been an architectural disaster,” Paul says.

  “Did Will really spend the night in jail?” Aaron asks.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “We have a very thorough investigator. Apparently Mr. Christmas has a history of violence, so attacking his neighbor was not a well-thought-out plan. Clearly our client screening was not thorough enough.” Rachel adds, not so helpfully.

  My stomach sinks. So much for sealed records.