Only One Road – chapter 3

– III –


I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I managed to hang up on three people while I was trying to put them on hold, deleted one of the customer’s very important files, spilled hot coffee all over my manager, and broke my headset. Finally around five in the evening my manager asked me very carefully if I am feeling all right. He stood at the distance as if afraid that I am going to spill something else on him.

“I think I’m coming down with something”, I said unwillingly. “A cold maybe…”

Right. I am coming down with something, all right. But it’s not a cold. It’s a freaking plague named Dylan Mort.

“Go home”, he said sympathetically. “Get some rest.”

“Are you sure it’ll be all right?” I asked.

“Absolutely”, he said a little bit too quickly. “Get some good sleep, take tomorrow off, and you’ll be back on your feet!”

Which translated into “Get the hell out of here before you do anymore damage!”

“All right…” I sighed and pulled my jacket off the back of the chair. “Sorry about the coffee, Henry… And other stuff too…”

“Just feel better”, he nodded with visible relief. “See you Monday!”

“I work on Friday”, I said and he just waved his pudgy hands at me.

“Oh heck”, he said. “Just take the rest of the week off.”

Huh, I thought with amusement. Just how much damage did I do today exactly? Is there something I am unaware of? Well, it’s better if I don’t know I guess. I smiled sheepishly at Henry and pulled my jacket on. He nodded with great satisfaction and went away. I was on my way out of the office when I happened to glance at the newspapers on top of someone’s desk. What I saw made me stop dead in my tracks. I picked up the paper.

“Mayor’s nephew is in critical condition”, it said in big bold letters. “The doctors are not sure if they will be able to save his remaining eye…”

I blinked. Why all of a sudden do I have a bad feeling about it?

“Awful, huh?” Someone said behind me and I turned my head.

It was Gail Thomas, a gal who worked here for what seemed ever. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and gave me a small smile, her large face reminding me of a Grandma from soup commercials.

“Yeah”, I nodded. “What happened?”

“He was assaulted last night”, Gail said seriously. “Somebody did a number on him, all right. They cut him up awfully bad.”

“Cut him up”, I muttered, feeling suddenly cold.

“Yes”, she nodded.