about the good deed we’re performing here.”
There was silence from Reggie as frigid as the weather. At least there was, finally, silence. When they reached the phone booth, Jack dialed the number Reggie gave him, his numbed fingers stabbing the keypad.
“Hello?” Lindsay answered. He hadn’t even heard the line ring.
“This is Jack. Heard you didn’t get your money’s worth this evening.”
Lindsay’s reply was quick and cold. “Jack, I need your help, not a lecture on subway safety. Which you planning on giving?”
Jack pulled the phone away from his ear. Of all the arrogant, ungrateful, bitchy….
“Hello? Are you still there?” Her voice came down the line faintly. He pressed the freezing plastic back against his ear.
“Yeah, yeah. Listen, you seem to have made quite the impression on Reggie, so against my better judgment, I’ll go look for Seline.”
Jack heard her breath catch, and then let go in a soft sigh that erased his every nasty thought about her. “Thank you, Jack. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. We need to leave ASAP.”
“What?”
“I said, we need to leave as soon as possible.”
“What’s this ‘we’ stuff? I said I’d go and look for her. Me. Alone.”
“I appreciate your help, Jack,” she said all sweetness, like she was breaking bad news to an oversensitive employee, “and I know you don’t think I should be going down into the tunnels. I get the feeling that you’re just telling me what I want to hear.”
Jack’s teeth ground together. “You saying I’m lying to you?”
She carried on, apparently ignoring his tone. “Seline has already been down there a week, Jack. Thus far nobody’s wanted to help me, including you when we met. I can’t take the chance that you’re handing me a line, even if it is for my own good. I have to be sure that someone’s really looking for her.”
“I’m not a tour operator, woman!”
“As you might remember, my name’s Lindsay,” she said pointedly. Gone was the sweetness. “And I know you’re not. Yes, I’m stubborn and unreasonable and it’s dangerous down there and yadda yadda yadda, so let’s cut to it: I’m heading back to Grand Central, and I’m going to find Seline. You coming?”
He should hang up right now. If all his loss and pain and misery had taught him anything at all, he should hang up. Hang up on the memory of a long-ago time when his life was much happier, and she was the first girl he’d ever really wanted.
“You know that big clock at Grand Central. On the main level?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Be there by seven in the morning. Seven sharp.”
He slammed down the receiver, stared at nothing. Nope, he hadn’t learned a damned thing.
“You okay?” Reggie asked.
“No.” And nothing more was said as they trudged back to their basement home.
* * *
Gripping the hand-rail above him in the swaying train, Jack was packed so close to Reggie’s back he could see the nylon weave of his friend’s parka. Butted up behind him was a woman who, from the smell, was likely heading for a day behind the perfume counter at Macy’s. He was suffocating, caught up in this press of dead end people heading for dead end jobs in a city where nobody cared about anything except their own dead end interests.
Reggie was right. Up here he was nobody—poor, unemployed, forgotten by virtually everyone. He’d gone through jobs as a security guard, a taxi driver, a janitor, every low-level job possible. The pattern was always the same. He’d show up for the first shifts all spit and polished, but then a day would come when he couldn’t even open his eyes to the gray light of his room. He’d arrive late or not at all, and not surprisingly, he was soon reading the want ads again. Right now, he was, what the employment counselor termed, ‘between jobs’. He should be ashamed about his situation. The problem was that he couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. All that had ever really interested
There was silence from Reggie as frigid as the weather. At least there was, finally, silence. When they reached the phone booth, Jack dialed the number Reggie gave him, his numbed fingers stabbing the keypad.
“Hello?” Lindsay answered. He hadn’t even heard the line ring.
“This is Jack. Heard you didn’t get your money’s worth this evening.”
Lindsay’s reply was quick and cold. “Jack, I need your help, not a lecture on subway safety. Which you planning on giving?”
Jack pulled the phone away from his ear. Of all the arrogant, ungrateful, bitchy….
“Hello? Are you still there?” Her voice came down the line faintly. He pressed the freezing plastic back against his ear.
“Yeah, yeah. Listen, you seem to have made quite the impression on Reggie, so against my better judgment, I’ll go look for Seline.”
Jack heard her breath catch, and then let go in a soft sigh that erased his every nasty thought about her. “Thank you, Jack. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. We need to leave ASAP.”
“What?”
“I said, we need to leave as soon as possible.”
“What’s this ‘we’ stuff? I said I’d go and look for her. Me. Alone.”
“I appreciate your help, Jack,” she said all sweetness, like she was breaking bad news to an oversensitive employee, “and I know you don’t think I should be going down into the tunnels. I get the feeling that you’re just telling me what I want to hear.”
Jack’s teeth ground together. “You saying I’m lying to you?”
She carried on, apparently ignoring his tone. “Seline has already been down there a week, Jack. Thus far nobody’s wanted to help me, including you when we met. I can’t take the chance that you’re handing me a line, even if it is for my own good. I have to be sure that someone’s really looking for her.”
“I’m not a tour operator, woman!”
“As you might remember, my name’s Lindsay,” she said pointedly. Gone was the sweetness. “And I know you’re not. Yes, I’m stubborn and unreasonable and it’s dangerous down there and yadda yadda yadda, so let’s cut to it: I’m heading back to Grand Central, and I’m going to find Seline. You coming?”
He should hang up right now. If all his loss and pain and misery had taught him anything at all, he should hang up. Hang up on the memory of a long-ago time when his life was much happier, and she was the first girl he’d ever really wanted.
“You know that big clock at Grand Central. On the main level?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Be there by seven in the morning. Seven sharp.”
He slammed down the receiver, stared at nothing. Nope, he hadn’t learned a damned thing.
“You okay?” Reggie asked.
“No.” And nothing more was said as they trudged back to their basement home.
* * *
Gripping the hand-rail above him in the swaying train, Jack was packed so close to Reggie’s back he could see the nylon weave of his friend’s parka. Butted up behind him was a woman who, from the smell, was likely heading for a day behind the perfume counter at Macy’s. He was suffocating, caught up in this press of dead end people heading for dead end jobs in a city where nobody cared about anything except their own dead end interests.
Reggie was right. Up here he was nobody—poor, unemployed, forgotten by virtually everyone. He’d gone through jobs as a security guard, a taxi driver, a janitor, every low-level job possible. The pattern was always the same. He’d show up for the first shifts all spit and polished, but then a day would come when he couldn’t even open his eyes to the gray light of his room. He’d arrive late or not at all, and not surprisingly, he was soon reading the want ads again. Right now, he was, what the employment counselor termed, ‘between jobs’. He should be ashamed about his situation. The problem was that he couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. All that had ever really interested
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