Monday, August 21, 2017

Novel by the Numbers - Chapter 24

Broken Souls ... by Annay Dawson

Chapter 24

By the time Addy had arrived at school that day she had already tried calling Holden three times.  The first time was right after the officer had driven off.  The next time wasn't more than five minutes after that and the last time was after breakfast as she brushed her teeth.  She had left two messages and just disconnected the call the last time.  The day was cool and crisp.  That wasn't good.  If Kari had gone hiking, and she knew she liked hiking too, then spending a night out in the cold was dangerous.  There had to be a good reason for her to do it.  The image of Holden sitting at the kitchen table haunted her.  He had obviously been distressed, obviously been sitting there for quite a while.  It made her wonder what had really happened that night between them.  Maybe she should have asked more questions.  Shaking herself mentally she focused again on getting Mia into school and not improbable scenarios. 
So far Mia hadn't asked what was wrong.  Addy thought she was holding her breath that it wasn't her Uncle Den being hurt again.  Holden had been hurt, but not in the way Mia was thinking and that was a discussion for another day.  Even though Addy had told her that Holden was fine it would have been better if he had picked up the phone and talked with them.  Grabbing her bag she walked into the school and tried to dial him one more time.

Holden woke up and stretched his arms above his head.  It felt odd to be back in his small apartment in Baltimore.  He had stopped on the way in and picked up some basics for breakfast and as he turned the clock toward him his mind dreamed of that first cup of coffee.  
"Shit," and he flew out of bed throwing the covers off the edge and landing them in a pile on the floor.  "Get all I need for breakfast and then forget to set an alarm."  He was through the shower in record time.  Pulling on the first pair of clean Dockers he found and a long sleeved polo.  He was surprised by how comfortable it was against his skin.  He had healed well.  Grabbing his phone from the side of the bed he didn't bother to look at it as he quickly dialed his editor.  Calling him just his editor was selling him short.  He was his editor as well as his friend and agent.  That was how this new job opportunity had come to be. 
"About time I hear from you Holden," was the hello he got, "been trying to call."
"Sorry Tyler.  Slept in by accident," pulling the door to the refrigerator open he used his free hand to paw his way to the back and the jug of orange juice he had bought.  Satisfied with his find he set it on the counter.  "How much time do I have?"
"We need to be at the publishers by one, that leaves us from now, eight o'clock," his voice heavy on the time, "to then to get a few interviews from the DC VA rehab center and then be back up here."
"Sorry again," Holden chugged some juice and put the jug back in the refrigerator without putting the cap back on.
"If we are lucky that will leave us about fifteen minutes for lunch and a bit of collaboration," if there was one thing Tyler liked, it was his business lunches.  It might be because he didn't get them that often.  Most of his clients were out of town chasing down a story so when one came home he tried to made the most of it.
"Again, I owe you,"  Holden grabbed a piece of bread skipping the toasting part and the buttering part he stuffed it into his mouth.  
"You never sleep in.  Everything okay?" The concern in his voice was audible.
"Been a bit busy the last couple of days, guess I just needed an extra twenty winks," his eyes landed on the empty coffee pot.  With a quick inaudible sigh he figured it was probably for the best.  "If you can find me a cup of coffee in the next fifteen minutes I'll pick you up and we'll be on our way.  I know most of these guys so the initial interviews should be pretty fast.  I just hope they want to be part of this."
"You and me both," Holden could hear something but wasn't sure what it was, "Coffee is done.  Now, where are you?"
Holden pulled up in the old pickup and Tyler shook his head.  Leaning across the truck he unlocked the door and Tyler climbed in, looked around, and handed Holden his cup.  Then he put the other cup of coffee between his legs to close the door.
"I still don't get it," Holden worked the truck into traffic as Tyler continued to talk, "with all the money you make you can't afford a vehicle with one cup holder."  The old truck rumbled down the road and onto the entrance ramp to the freeway.
"Usually don't need one, and this old thing has held up pretty well when I've been out of country for extended times," merging into the heavy morning traffic headed for DC he took a sip of coffee and then handed the cup to Tyler, "and I usually don't need to drink coffee in the truck."
An hour later they pulled into the rehab center and parked.  The traffic had been heavier than normal and it had taken extra time.  They both got out of the truck and Holden grabbed his recorder.  If he was going to do this, he wanted to record their stories and then transcribe what he wanted from each.  They had always hated it when he took notes.  Now, more than ever, he wanted to make them top priority.
Tyler watched as Holden walked through the doors and into the lobby.  This wasn't going to be easy by any means and at the first sign of, of what, and he paused.  What would he be looking for to know if Holden could handle this or not?  He'd have to play this by ear.  Making sure to walk a half a step behind him, he watched as Holden's muscles tensed and didn't release.  His jaw muscles were also tight but not locked into place.  That was good.  And as he approached the desk Holden tried to look casual.  His voice held none of the tension that Tyler could see and for the life of him he didn't know if that was good or bad.  Holden got the room number of two different service men.  These were the men of the company that he had been embedded with, the ones that he had been blown up with.  The ones that had survived, like him.  
It was odd how well Holden knew the place, after all he had been brought here to begin with.  They walked down the hallway in silence.  From the many rooms they could faintly hear televisions and conversations, but Holden focused on where he was going.  When they got to the door he paused.  It was ajar, as if waiting for him to go in.  Using only one knuckle he knocked tentatively on the door.
"Come on in it's open," came a lighter voice than expected.  Holden pushed through the door and Tyler followed.  For Tyler it was more shocking than for Holden.  Holden had known what to expect, but he had never shared any of it with Tyler.  Tyler saw a man sitting in a wheelchair looking out the window.  That wasn't the shocking part, after all it was a rehab center.  The shocking part was that he was missing both of his legs and one of his arms looked like it had been through hell and back itself.  It was a miracle that they had saved it, but Tyler wasn't sure how useful it would be.
"Hey Micky," Holden was reserved at first.
"Hey Park," and the smile on his face widen and he held out his good hand, "What the hell took you so long to get here man," and that's when Holden smiled, and went over and gave the man a bearhug.  Months dropped away and fears disappeared.  "Looks like you've recovered pretty damn good.  How're the burns?"  This was the first time Tyler had heard about the burns.  He had known about the issues with the leg and that there were other injuries, but he hadn't known they had been burns.
"Pretty much healed up.  After I got out of here I spent some time in that pond down where my sister lives," Holden pulled over a chair and turned it around and sat down.  Tyler moved into the background so that these two men could catch up.  
"Had to be colder than a witch's," and then the nurse walked in and Micky stopped talking.
"Don't think I haven't heard it all," and she smiled.  "Got your meds here."
"Ahh thank you Nurse Nightingale," and she rolled her eyes.  Holden took a good look at her.  She was five foot six with long black hair rolled into a bun on her head, but that wasn't the best part.  Holden would have bet that she wasn't more than a hundred and twenty pounds, and she filled out the uniform well.  He could imagine that she was hit on more times a day than the practice balls in Wriggly Field, and he smiled.  She was definitely new here.
"Yes, that's a good boy," and she patted him on the head, "I have to be going now," she smiled, "but you know I'll miss you most."
"You know just what to say to make my heart go pitter-patter," and she left the room.
"Nice to know you haven't changed," Holden was snickering.
"Got to keep the skills up, won't be in here forever," and he turned and looked over at Tyler.  "So this is the ballbuster you have to send your stories into."  Tyler looked shocked for a moment.  He had never thought of himself as a deadline tyrant.
"Relax Tyler, his words not mine,"  and he smiled.  
"Have you been to see Sauce yet?" Holden's smiled disappeared a bit.
"Sauce?" Tyler pulled out his phone to check who they had been coming to see.
"He's called Sauce because he's Italian, mother's side," Tyler had found the name now, Francesco Kopow.  Now that was a name, it was no wonder that they called him Sauce.
"No," Holden didn't say anything more.
"You need too," although Micky understood all to well the sacrifices they may have had to make he knew Holden hadn't been prepared for it, "He's doing good man.  And his wife and kids are in almost daily," Micky had gotten serious.  "They expect him to do pretty well."
"I want to talk to you about my next project," the mood in the room had certainly changed.
"Yah from what you told me in the email, I'm going be a star," and he smiled over at Tyler, "I'll have to fight the girls off with a stick."
"Tyler has pitched an idea for a book about our wounded vets and the steps they are taking to not only recover but to join the world again," Holden was looking right at Micky now, "This would mean you would have to spend a good bit of time with me and my recorder going over the whole process from when this first happened to now and even later down the road.  The book itself would follow your progress, and others, for another year before I would even try to write it.  It would be a couple of years down the road before publication."
"That sounds all well and good but for right now I know how I'm putting food on the table.  What I'm wondering is how do you earn a living until then?"  Micky was seriously worried about how Holden was going to earn a living.  Tyler felt honored to be in the room.
"They would pay me for bits and pieces as I submit what I am working on.  Give me an advance.  Then I'd rewrite it all and put it together in a way that would," and that's when Micky interrupted.
"Make it a best seller and me a star," and they both laughed, "Well get out that recorder man and let's get started."
"It may bring up some bad memories," Holden paused with his hand in his pocket.
"For you and me both."

Three hours later after they had spoken with both men and even Sauce's wife, they were ready to leave.  She had known that Holden was coming in and didn't want the kids around.  The discussion was a little too intense for them.  Sauce, or Freddy, as she called him, had a much longer road to recovery than either Micky or Holden had.  Although it was sobering to learn what they had been through, Tyler and Holden, left with a sense of hope.

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