After connecting the seat belt around him, he sat in the chair opposite, facing the rear of the cabin.
Robert sat staring out the window as the plane taxied away from the hangar. There was a worried expression on his face. Michael suspected his dad didn’t like to fly, or there was something else troubling him. Maybe he’s just feeling lost. I shouldn’t have taken him out of the Manor. This can’t be good for him if he’s confused.
“You okay, Dad?” He leaned forward and touched the older man’s knee.
“Fine, Michael, why wouldn’t I be?” Any hint of fear was gone, replaced with the confident features of his father.
“No reason, I just wanted to make sure you enjoy the trip.” Okay, I’m officially freakin’ out here. If he’s pulling my leg, he’s doing a great job of it. Ha, ha, Dad, you got me. I’ll need to get someone to watch him when we land in New York, just in case. Sam could stay with him while I take care of the testing on Monday. No, I don’t want to burden him with my father all weekend. I wish Mom were here.
“Did you say we were going to New York?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’m working on a project for NASA that needs to be tested on Monday. I thought we’d have some fun together for the weekend. Want to take in a Broadway show or something?”
“Christ, I don’t know if I’d like all that singing and jumping around. Your mother tried to get me to a show once. Are the Yankees playing this weekend? I’ve never been to New York before, so we could see a ball game together. I remember they’re your favorite team.” He looked out the window, a sad expression pulling down the corners of his mouth. “We’d have more fun if your mother was here.” He turned away from the window as the plane stopped at the entrance ramp to the main runway. His eyes were serious yet gentle at the same time.
“I know I’ve been hard on you, Michael. Maybe I could have spent more time at home, learned more about your job. There was always something at work to pull me away, and suddenly, you were all grown up. Always remember I’m proud of you, son; despite the little I gave you. Your mother was always elated with you, too. Maybe someday you can be a better father than I was.” He smiled a sad smile. His eyes grew bright as he looked up. “First, you need to find a woman and settle down.”
Michael couldn’t help but grin. He wanted to jump up and hug the old man, but the plane had already started to move down the runway.
“I’ll do what I can, Dad. You might be a grandpa sooner than you think.” If he doesn’t lose his memory completely before then, Michael thought. The enormous weight of losing another parent pressed on his mind. They hadn’t been close, ever. Still, there had always been a sense they’d have more time, a chance that tomorrow would be better. How do I go on without him? Who will I turn to that understands me well enough to listen to my problems? Even if he’s still breathing in a few years, will he know who I am? I’m not really close to anyone. Haven’t been since Joe disappeared. I could have turned to Billy, but instead, I pushed everyone away. Now I’m alone or will be soon. Is that all there is to my life? A billion dollars and nobody I’d call a real friend and no one to inherit when I’m gone. Who will remember me? A few people might stumble across a musty copy of Time magazine and see the article on the “boy genius”, but they won’t care. I ought to change my life, become a better friend.
He glanced out the window; they were already flying above the clouds. The sun glinting off the white cotton field below them hurt his eyes. First, I need to let people get close to me, he thought. “You need to open your heart, dear,” his mother’s voice said to him. “The only way people will be close to you is if you love them and let them see the real man inside you. Give them your heart to cherish and they’ll remember the real you long after you’re gone.”
He didn’t know what she meant, but some part of him understood she was right. His chest hurt, and he couldn’t swallow for the lump in his throat. The clouds became blurry as tears welled in his eyes. He pressed the button and reclined the seat, pretending to take a nap, trying to hide his tears. If his dad saw any moisture on his face, he’d make some idiotic comment about being tougher. He couldn’t look at the old man right now, or he’d start blubbering. He couldn’t imagine what his father would say about that.
Scenes from his boyhood, people he’d done business with, and girls he’d known over the years drifted across his mind. Strange how I only remember the happy times, he thought. I need to force myself to remember the sad moments, the times I got hurt or hurt someone. If I hadn’t been so self-absorbed with my career, I wonder how many of those people would have become my friend. They all seemed genuine, and I liked them, but we never clicked.
“Gentlemen, we’re at cruising altitude. If you’d like a snack or drink, please feel free to help yourselves,” Sam’s voice rumbled from the overhead speakers.
Michael sat up and found his father doing the same. “Do you want something to drink, Dad?” Do you know who I am? he added in his mind.
“I’m fine with whatever you’re having, son. Something to munch on would be good; I don’t remember having lunch today.”
Michael unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to the rear of the cabin. A kitchen area built into a space too small to change his mind in opened to the right side of the aisle. Cupboards and a fridge were stocked with cold soda, booze, and snacks of all kinds. He opened the fridge, taking out two soft drinks, pulled down two glasses from an overhead cupboard, and grabbed a bag of plain potato chips on the way back to the seat.
A small table, roughly the height of a coffee table, separated each row of forward and backward facing seats. Michael sat down and then put the drinks, glasses, and snacks on the table. His father opened the can of soda with some effort and poured with his right hand. The pale, bony hands trembled slightly, his left one was used as a stop for the glass, but nothing spilled. Once Michael had done the same, Robert raised his glass toward his son.
“To the finest son a man could hope for in this life.”
“I’ll agree to that if we can say to the best dad of all time, too.” They smiled together and touched their glasses.
Michael took a sip and then picked up the telephone intercom beside his seat. Sam answered immediately.
“Yes sir, what can I do for you?”
“Could you find out if the Yankees are playing this weekend and if they are, do you think you can get me three tickets to the game?”
“Hmm,” Sam’s deep voice replied. “I’ll see what I can do and get back to you.”
“Thank you, Sam,” Michael said, remembering to put sincere gratitude in his voice. There wasn’t much effort required, he realized, especially when you were being sincere.
“Do you want to watch a movie, Dad? There’s time before we get to New York.”
“Sure son, you got anything in mind?”
“You like Clint Eastwood, right?” His father nodded with an uncertain smile. “I don’t know if his latest movie is onboard yet. I think the title is Heart Break Ridge, and the reviews were great last year.” He went to the rear of the plane and found the cassette for the movie. Sam did an excellent job of keeping the plane stocked with the latest releases in case the passengers had time to watch. Once the cartridge was in the machine, Michael pressed play and went back to his seat. The screen was double sided and pulled down from a slot in the ceiling. He took a sip of his drink and settled back to watch the movie. The intercom buzzed as the opening credits ran so he whispered when he answered.
“Yes, Sam.”
“I’ve found us three seats behind the Yankees dugout. I had to promise them you’d throw out the first pitch, but I didn’t think you’d mind. Do you?”
“No Sam, I’d be honored. Just make sure we get there in time.” He was already imagining the roar of the crowd and the feel of the ball in his hand while he replaced the phone. In his mind, the pitch was a perfect strike.
“I’m assuming he got us tickets to a game.”
Michael nodded and smiled proudly at his father.
“I guess they think I’m a celebrity or because I’m rich. Either way, we’re going to be at the game right behind the dugout. We’ll get to meet some of the players after the game, too.”
“Should have been me doing this stuff for you, not the other way around,” his father grumbled. They did not say any more until after the plane landed.
Chapter 7
Randal Chesterwick scratched his head, a nervous habit for most of his life. He sat in front of his computer terminal in the lab in Silicon Valley, sweating even though the air-conditioning was running full blast.
As the Director of Development for Eldridge Industries, he was responsible for overseeing every project to conclusion. He took his job seriously. He’d heard the whispers about him being a fuss-budget. Maybe he was too meticulous, but millions of dollars were being gambled on every venture. If he wasn’t scrupulous, lives could be lost, and he didn’t want that on his conscience.
The Mars probe was their most important project. Even though no lives were at stake, people depended on him to make sure the endeavor was successful. When the probe left for New York, he began running the communications program to make certain nothing could fail.
A glitch appeared almost immediately. Halfway through the thousands of lines of code, one asked for a time and place, then quickly continued when no information was entered. As far as he knew, there was no need to enter any data into the program. He scratched his head again; sweat trickled down his back. Mr. Eldridge must have put that in there, he thought. But why? Should I take out the line? No, you can’t without getting his permission first, Randal. He’s very particular about his programs. If you change anything without his approval, you’ll be in so much shit you‘ll never get the stink off for the rest of your life.
He turned his eyes from the computer screen to the telephone and then looked at his watch. They wouldn’t land for another half an hour. He needed to find out what hotel they’d be staying at and leave a message.
The receiver weighed a ton as he dialed the number for Michael’s secretary.
“Michael Eldridge’s office,” Christen’s voice came through the line.
Randal never went up to the big office, so he didn’t know what the woman looked like, but his mind created a picture for him, a vision that seemed real enough for him to reach out and touch.
“This is Randal Chesterwick in development.” He tried to sound macho, hoping she’d envision him as a hunk rather than a geek. “I need to contact Mr. Eldridge about an urgent matter.” He didn’t like dealing with people. His brusque manner shocked even him sometimes.
He heard her breathing on the other end of the line.
“He’s staying at the Park Regency; I can connect you if you’d like.” Her voice was pleasant, and he could see her smiling.
“Please.” He drummed his fingers on the desktop, waiting for the connection. When the phone was answered, he left a message and hung up. His right hand scratched the back of his head. “I need to figure out what to say to him when he calls. ‘Hi Boss, you screwed up the program.’ That’ll get you fired, Randal, but if I just tell him what the line says he’ll tell me to delete it. I don’t need to know why it’s there; that’s none of my business.” He burst off the chair and walked out of the office into the lab.
The enormous building stretched away from him. Several technicians moved around the room, carrying out tasks for minor areas of the Mars project, but otherwise, he was alone in the vast space.
His eyes flicked nervously from the ceiling to the walls, and then followed one of the technicians while his mind scrolled through the problem. He was the only person who knew about it. Leaving it alone would be sloppy. If he did nothing, the probe could travel all the way to Mars before that one line caused a problem. NASA would point at him, and blaming Mr. Eldridge for writing the program wouldn’t save him. Michael would hold him accountable for not saying anything. Claiming ignorance wouldn’t work, either. He scratched his head with both hands in growing anxiety.
You’re not a good liar, Randal. They’ll see the truth on your face. There has to be a reason for that line to be in there, so I’ll ask him when he calls later. I ought to know why the words are there. His hands twisted together trying to wring away nervous energy and keep them from scratching. With nothing else to occupy his mind, he started walking toward the far end of the lab.
The plane touched down at Teterboro Airport as the final credits began to roll. He’d enjoyed the movie and by the smile on his father’s face, Michael knew the old man had too. They stepped down the ladder carefully; Michael in front, and then into a waiting limousine. Both men fixated on the sights as the car traveled to the hotel and then pulled up to the front of the Park Regency. A short elevator ride later, and they entered their suite.
The porter left the room. Robert had picked up the remote for the television and was trying to figure out how to turn it on.
“Like this, Dad.” Michael took the remote and pressed a button. Instantly, a picture appeared on the screen.
“What the hell is this? I wanted to watch the news.”
“Just a second,” Michael snapped with the same tone as his father and pressed more buttons, searching for a menu.
“No need to get sore, you’re the genius in the room. I figured you’d be able to find a news channel,” the old man grumbled and dropped onto the sofa.
“Well I’m trying to do that, Dad, but if you want California news, you’ll have to wait. They’re three hours behind us at the moment.”
“What the hell are you talking about, son? We’re in California, aren’t we?” That expression of fear was back on his dad’s face when Michael turned toward him. He pressed the menu button and found CNN, hoping that would be enough to satisfy his father. The old man muttered under his breath but seemed fine with the selection for now.
I need a drink, Michael thought. Not a soda but some hard liquor. He found the bar and poured some scotch into a glass without ice. He’d had better whiskey, but it was still good as he tossed the liquor back. The warmth of the liquid spread quickly, and he poured another. This time, he sipped at the drink and stared at the back of his father’s head. Equal measures of fear and anger swirled in his mind.
He realized that his father would need constant attention for the rest of his life. It wouldn’t be enough to move him into Michael’s house, he’d need a nurse, medical care, and in the end, would have to go to a hospital. How could he do that to his dad? The old man would be better off and safer in a facility equipped to care for people with dementia.
A knock on the door made him jump. Robert looked away from the television as Michael went to answer it. Sam stood in the hall with a porter carrying three suitcases. He smiled and stepped into the room. The bellman set the cases down and left.
“Hey, Boss. How’re you doing, Mr. Eldridge?” Sam asked brightly in his rumbling voice.
“God damned pilot isn’t staying with us, is he?” Robert demanded from the sofa, turning back to the television. Michael glared at him, feeling more and more as if he was dealing with a spoiled child.
“No, Dad, Sam has his own room. He brought our luggage and will be with us when we go to the ball game tomorrow. You don’t have a problem with him looking after you on Monday when I’m at work, do you?” The old man didn’t say anything. Michael rolled his eyes, tilting his head in the direction of his father. Sam smiled to show he understood.
“Got one of those for an exhausted pilot and friend?” he ogled the glass in Michael’s hand.
“Sure, you don’t mind my taking you for granted, do you? I’m only going to be there for a couple of hours.” Before they could say any more, the telephone rang. Michael answered, “Hello.” He listened. After the other person had replied, he said, “Thanks,” and returned the receiver. A frown creased his face.
“A problem?” Sam asked.
“There could be. Randal, the head technician ba
ck at the lab, wants me to call him right away. He doesn’t usually need my help, so I hope there isn’t anything serious. Help yourself to a drink while I make the call.”
He picked up the phone again, punched the digit to get an outside line before dialing the number for the lab. It took a couple of seconds to make the connection, and then a few more for the rings before anyone answered.
“Yes, this is Randal,” the breathless voice of the Chief Technician gasped.
“Randal, this is Michael. Catch your breath and tell me what’s wrong.” He could see the scientist standing at the desk, scratching his head nervously. Sounds of deep breathing and exhaling came through the line as Randal tried to relax. Papers shuffled in the background as if he was searching for something. Finally, he came back on the line.
“Mr. Eldridge, I sent the probe to the east coast and decided to run the code to make sure everything was perfect for Monday. I was watching the software run and found a glitch.” He inhaled sharply as if he’d sworn or just seen something frightening.
“What kind of glitch?” Michael demanded, trying to keep the fear out of his own voice.
“The code stopped for only a second on a line which read ‘Insert place and time to continue,’ and then continued. I don’t remember needing to give any instructions like that in the program. Mr. Eldridge, is this going to cause any problems for our tests?”
Michael could almost see the tears in the man’s eyes. That particular line was meant for his time travel experiment. Randal was right, that didn’t need to be in the probe code. He felt sorry for the technician having to deal with a problem that wasn’t his fault.
“Randal, you can delete that line without any harm to the program. I was playing with an idea and forgot that was still there. Thanks for finding the problem. I don’t know what I’d do without your help. I’ll do the same on this end when the probe gets here, and we’ll be good to go. Is that all you found?” He held his breath, expecting more bad news.
An Altered Course Page 7
