Faster

by Alex Schuler

  “You’ve been gone for almost two years, Ted. Kevin’s become one of my top guys. I can’t risk losing him by bringing you back into the fold. Especially if you’re just killing time waiting for Detroit to call you. There’s too much bad blood with Kevin now. I have a company and a reputation to uphold. I can’t have that bitterness pervading my business. You must understand that.”

  Ted closed his eyes as new tears welled up. He shook his head and took a deep breath to gather himself. He had to accept that Kyle was, unfortunately, a dead end. Ted needed to get off the phone. Immediately.

  “Okay. Sure. Sorry to have bothered you, Kyle.”

  “No bother at all, Ted. You’re a talented man. I’m sure you’ll find something soon. You said Detroit was thinking it over, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Give them time.”

  “I will. Goodbye.”

  As Ted pressed “End,” he flung the phone against the pillows piled at the foot of the bed. Pacing back and forth, he forced his mind to go through the options. Part of him was in shock at Kyle’s rejection. He was also feeling a rising anger toward Kevin. Like a pendulum, Ted felt his emotions swing between disbelief and resentment. He knew he could not go back to DSU. Like a loop, he could hear Sam’s voice saying, “How could you not have a backup plan?” over and over again. With a heavy heart, he picked up his phone and dialed the only person he knew would not reject him. He sat down on the squishy hotel bed just as the call connected.

  “Hello?” Barbara Wolff asked.

  “Hi, Mom.” His voice was lifeless and empty. He couldn’t even pretend to sound upbeat. “How are you?”

  “How wonderful to hear from you! I’m just lovely today. Where are you? Is everything okay?”

  “I’m in Detroit.”

  “Detroit? For what?”

  “I’m just checking out some job opportunities. I was thinking I could drive over and maybe visit for a bit. Thanksgiving isn’t that far away.”

  “Thanksgiving?” Barbara’s voice instantly changed from happy to suspicious. “My son wants to spend the holidays with his family? What’s going on, Teddy?”

  “Nothing, Mom. Look, I just figured—”

  “Hold on while I get your father.”

  Ted lowered the phone and sighed. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to talk with his father. The wall-mounted heater shuddered as it powered down. The quietness that permeated the room only added to his sense of loneliness.

  “Ted?” John Wolff asked.

  “Hey, Dad.” Ted glanced at the clock on the nightstand to verify the time. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  “Your father’s home sick with a horrible fever and should be back in bed.”

  “Union benefits, Son. Plenty of sick time for me. Your mom said you were in Detroit. Why?”

  “He’s looking for a job, Jack. Can you believe it? Three hours away, and he never bothered to call us.”

  “A job?” John coughed, his throat heavy with phlegm. “What kind of job?”

  “It’s nothing, Dad. It has to do with the technology from the DARPA competition.”

  “Well, how’d that turn out? Did you impress them with that amazing brain of yours?”

  His heart began to race, and his chest tighten. He’d just wanted a simple conversation with his mother about coming home. First, Sam rejected him. Then Kyle. He wasn’t sure he could handle a lecture from his father.

  “I tried. We . . . we tried.” Ted jammed his thumb and index finger into his eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. It was no use. He soon found himself sobbing uncontrollably. Ted pounded his fist against the bed, angry that his emotions were so out of control.

  “What’s wrong, Ted?” John asked with sudden alarm.

  “What is it, Teddy?” Barbara said. “You can tell us. We’re your family.”

  “I thought Detroit would listen. I thought they’d have a job for me.” He could not stop weeping and struggled to connect his thoughts and words. “But they didn’t. They rejected me. Us. Sam’s gone. Kyle. Kevin. DSU. I have nothing now. Nothing!”

  Quickly saying he had to go, he hung up and collapsed into the pillow beside him. He felt hollow. Dull. His future was draining away. He was alone and had no idea what to do. A minute passed before his cell phone rang. He sat up and wiped his face dry, clearing his hair from his eyes.

  “Hello?”

  “Why would you say you have nothing?” John asked, his voice softer than usual. “Come home, Ted. Together we’ll figure things out, okay?”

  Ted held the phone to his ear, unsure of what to say.

  “I’m going to put your mother on.” John coughed loudly. “See you soon, Son.”

  “Teddy? Where in Detroit are you? Do you need me to come get you?”

  “No.” His temples throbbed from the tears he’d cried. “I have a rental car.”

  “Then you need to come home. Right now. We don’t want you to be alone.” There was a long pause as his mother waited for him to respond. When he didn’t, she continued. “I’ve sent your father back to bed. We both love you, Ted. We’ve always wanted what’s best for you.”

  “I . . . I know.”

  “Just come home, and don’t worry about anything. We’ll take care of you. Your brothers will be so happy to see you. I’m sure you have old friends here as well. Will you come?”

  “Okay.”

  Several seconds passed before his mother spoke. When she did, her tone was back to being its usual upbeat and cheerful self.

  “My baby will be home for the holidays! I’m going to make that spice cake for dessert. Remember the one you always used to beg for?”

  “I do.” He was surprised to find himself smiling. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Drive careful. And don’t speed!”

  “I won’t. Goodbye, Mom.”

  He let the phone go by his side and exhaled slowly. His eyes felt like they were on fire, but he was relieved his tears had stopped. He was also surprised to find he was looking forward to going home. Ted knew his relationship with his parents and brothers was nothing like the close relationship Sam had with her mom and daughter. But he also knew he had no other options. Hearing his mother’s excitement, and even his dad’s heartfelt concern, brought him a bit of comfort.

  He walked over to the bathroom. The fluorescent bulb above the mirror flickered on, casting a harsh white light. He was taken aback by how pale he looked. All the color seemed to have drained from his face, and his eyes were red and bloodshot. He grabbed a glass from beside the sink and filled it halfway with water from the tap. Just as he was about to take a sip, he thought back to those early days at DSU when Rusty asked the team if the glass was half full or half empty. Ted tightened his grip on the glass and watched his knuckles whiten as he squeezed. After a few seconds, he softened his grasp and swallowed the water, quenching his thirst.

  Killing the bathroom light, he walked over to the two beds and gathered the rest of his things, throwing them into his garment bag, zipping it shut. He noted that his cell phone was resting against the pillows. Sitting down on the edge of the bed he picked up one of the pillows and put it up to his face. It still smelled like Sam. He inhaled deeply and held it there for a few moments before tossing it back against the headboard. Just as the pillow hit the mattress, he noticed a sparkle of gold among the sheets. Sam’s heart necklace was lying on the bed.

  He grabbed it, inspecting the clasp. It didn’t appear to be broken. He watched the edges of the pendant reflect the light as it twirled, dangling from his hand. Opening the front pouch of his laptop backpack, he tossed the necklace inside. Flinging the bag over his shoulder, he reached for his garment bag and keys, and left the room.

  22

  It had been a brutal winter in Lordstown, Ohio, especially that particular February when temperatures regularly slid down to zero. Ted ha
d forgotten how ruthless the dead of winter could be in this part of the country. He was thankful he had made it through to the end of April and spring was beginning to peek through.

  The Lordstown Complex, located along I-80, spanned over nine hundred acres and included multiple facilities, including metal, paint, and assembly buildings. John Wolff had managed to get Ted a job working in the main assembly plant since January. His dad had to pull a few strings to make it happen, which Ted was grateful for, but he also knew it was the last place he wanted to be, for many reasons.

  Inside the complex, Ted was perched on a catwalk, staring at the line of half-built vehicles below him. The procession of cars seemed to go on for an eternity. His mind was elsewhere. Five and a half months after Detroit, and all he could still think about was Sam. He hadn’t heard from her once since she had left the hotel room in Royal Oak.

  The whir and hum of motors and equipment were interrupted by the occasional voice of someone calling out from below. The sounds also masked the footsteps of his father walking up behind him.

  “Working late?” John asked his son.

  Ted glanced back at his dad before returning his gaze to the activity of the assembly line. “No, I was just enjoying some alone time.”

  “Your brothers were looking for you.”

  “Did they leave?”

  “Yes, but they plan to come by the house this weekend for Sunday dinner.” John waited for Ted to continue the conversation, but was met only with silence. “I hear good things about your performance, Ted.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Ted watched two robots off in the distance, spot-welding a frame. The flying sparks of orange reminded him of the embers rising from the torches at the Temple of Forgiveness he and Sam had seen last September. He tried to ignore the cold, piercing stare he could feel from his father.

  “What’s wrong, Ted?”

  “Nothing.”

  At 6’3”, John stood even a couple of inches taller than his son. They shared similar features, including those deep blue eyes and short tempers. John’s temper flashed now as he turned and grabbed Ted by the shoulder and twisted him around.

  “Bullshit. You’ve been moping around since the day you came back home. Yeah, things didn’t work out for you with that stint at DSU, and corporate Detroit rejected you, but you’ve finally got a real job. You should be happy. Do you know what I went through to get you in here? GM’s been struggling with record losses lately. We suffered through that awful strike. I went to bat for you, Ted.”

  “I know, Dad. It’s just that this isn’t what I wanted. This wasn’t supposed to be how my life turned out.” He yanked his shoulder free from his father’s grip and leaned against the bright yellow safety railing, casting a blank stare toward the assembly line below. “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand you’re brilliant, Ted. You’re wasting your skills here. I know you deserve better.”

  “Excuse me?” Ted was shocked to hear such a glowing compliment come from his father. “Then, why did you bring me to work in this plant?”

  “You have a future here, Ted. With your skills, I see you working your way up. Show them what you can do. You should be looking for ways to improve our processes or maybe the hardware. There are thousands of pieces that go into creating these cars. You see this stuff coming down the line. I know how much you love to tinker and build things.” John put his arm around his son and pointed at the vehicles gradually making their way down the line. They were still just the core frames, without any mechanics or interiors installed. “Look down there. What do you see?”

  Ted sighed as he let his eyes follow the direction of his father’s pointing finger. Humans and robots were broken into sections, each with a specific task to perform. Stacks of materials, including components such as doors, suspension items, and engines, were aligned and waiting to be installed. Ted’s mind drifted back to the GM Pavilion and the elegance of the Autonomy’s skateboard chassis.

  “You want to know what I see, Dad? I see waste. I see the past.”

  “The past?” John shook his head dismissively. “Have you seen the new turbocharged engine going into the Cobalt SS? That motor is cutting edge. It’s very competitive.”

  “Sure, it’s competitive. It’s just not the future.” Ted glanced back and forth between the robots and the people working down below. He remembered coming to this plant as a kid. The ratio of robots to humans was much lower twenty years ago. The tasks they could perform were much more basic. He thought back to the research paper he did in college about AI becoming smarter and more skilled. “One day, Dad, this entire factory will be nothing but robots.”

  “Bullshit. Those things break down. We’re always maintaining them.”

  “Right. We will work for them. Not the other way around.”

  Ted turned and began to make his way down to the main floor. His father stayed close behind, stopping him halfway down the staircase.

  “I know you wanted corporate GM to hire you, Ted. That hasn’t worked out for you. But you can prove them wrong here. Work your way up. Show them how much better they can be. Prove yourself here, and they will give you a big job in a big office.”

  “You don’t get it, Dad. They didn’t hire me because they don’t believe in me, or the technology that I showed them. Nobody does. Nobody except Sam.”

  “And what’s she up to these days?” John knew the answer and continued to talk. “You have no idea because she abandoned you. The only ones who have been here for you are your family. I wish you would accept the life you’ve been given.”

  “I have!” The noise from the plant floor drowned out Ted’s explosive response. “Just because I’ve accepted it doesn’t mean I have to like it!”

  He turned to descend the stairs, but his dad grabbed him again and stopped him in his tracks.

  “If that technology you worked on is so great, then why didn’t you join the military?”

  “What?”

  “You told me the military got to use all that tech. Why didn’t they hire you?”

  “We’ve already discussed this, Dad. Those jobs weren’t for me.”

  Rusty had told Ted about some of the military job options he could pursue. Defense contractors, such as Oshkosh, were eager to build on the systems and components developed for the DARPA Challenge. He’d encouraged Ted to reach out to them, and others such as Lockheed-Martin. But Ted wanted nothing to do with weapons of war. Growing up in Lordstown, he was a car guy. His passion coming out of DARPA was to change the transportation industry. He’d tried to explain this to his father several times, but it always fell on deaf ears.

  “You’re too stubborn, Ted. I’ll never understand.”

  “Exactly!” He could see the confusion, anger, and now pain in his father’s eyes. He feared he might have pushed the conversation too far and regretted snapping at him. “I’m sorry. I know you only want what’s best for me. It’s . . . it’s been a long work week, Dad. I’m wiped. I’ll see you at home tonight.”

  ***

  Lordstown was small, with less than fifteen hundred homes spread across its twenty-three square miles. Ted had never understood why his parents chose to live here. Most who worked in the plant lived in Warren, ten miles away. But then again, the smallness of Lordstown reminded him of Wadsworth, the town in which he had picked to live in Nevada. He pictured someone else living in his old apartment, probably helping out around the place like he had. These were his thoughts on his drive home.

  The speed limit on Route 45, also known as Tod Ave., was fifty miles per hour. It was a relatively quiet, tree-lined, four-lane road. Ted kept his car a couple of miles under the limit. Traffic was light, and he was in no rush to see his family.

  Two months ago, much to the dismay of his mother, Ted had bought a 2000 Chevy Camaro. She’d wanted him to carpool with his dad or brothers or borrow her car when needed.
But he’d felt trapped, wanted the freedom of his own wheels. The Camaro was jet black with too many miles on it, given its age. The 3.8-liter V-6 and four-speed automatic were a far cry from the high-performance Mustang GT he’d had in Nevada. The car also had its fair share of nicks and dents. The interior rattled horribly, and the stereo only worked when it wanted to. He didn’t care. And his dad was glad he didn’t buy another Ford.

  His parents still lived in the house he grew up in. Built in the early 1940s, the tiny beige Cape Cod–styled home crammed three bedrooms and two bathrooms into fourteen hundred square feet. An oversized two-car garage sat at the back of the property at the end of a rutted blacktop driveway. Ted pulled his Camaro to the rear of the house, stopping just before the garage. He killed the engine, grabbed the brown paper bag resting on the seat beside him, and got out.

  Through the covered porch at the back of the house, he could see his mother puttering around in the kitchen preparing dinner. Barbara was a stocky woman with long silver hair, often pulled back in a bun. His mother loved cooking for her family and had a collection of stained aprons to prove it. This evening she was wearing a yellow and white checkered one with Kiss the cook if you want to eat! scrawled across the front.

  Ted unlocked the side door as quietly as he could and stepped inside.

  “Jack, is that you?” Barbara asked. She stuck her head around the corner. “Teddy! How was work today? Are you hungry? I’m making lasagna.”

  “Work was fine.” He closed the outer door and opened the door that led to the basement. “Let me know when dinner is ready.”

  He flicked the wall-mounted light switch, illuminating a dull, yellowed twenty-five-watt bulb overhead. The walnut-paneled walls and brown-painted wooden stairs were dark and confining. The steps creaked and groaned as he stomped his way to the basement. A dehumidifier hummed from somewhere in the darkness, attempting to alleviate the dampness that permeated the entire lower level.

  Shortly after Ted was born, his father and some buddies from work had built a fourth bedroom in the basement. It was quite rudimentary, made of nothing but 2 x 4 studs and panel boards. Orange shag carpeting, from the smell most likely mold-infested, lined the floor. There were no windows to let in light. A small electric space heater kept it warm during the cold winter months.