UNDERCOVER The Secret of Luck

by James Kipling

  The thing about the lobby is that it always cheered him up. Today, it failed to do so. It’s like nothing could make it better. A lot of folks were suffering because of this. John had just shouted at his office receptionist. Now, all the fond memories that the lobby would normally fill his head with were also going down. Now, just a few moments ago, he refused to return a smile from the nice lobby fellow.

  John, this is not right. You have got to snap out of it, man. Come on. Turn around, and muster a small grin. Just do it. John said to himself. He was non-committal. He wasn’t sure if he could manage even a grin right now. His head was speaking again.

  Come on, John. What is wrong with you? It’s not like you are some kind of a psychotic person. You are a good guy. This lobby guy is smiling at you, and you always smile back at him. What is wrong with you? I know what is wrong with you. We cannot let this affect your life man. Snap out of it, turn around and smile. Now! shouted John to himself.

  Finally, Russo mustered a narrow grin and resumed his walk to the main street. The lobby guy, whose face had crumpled to resemble muddy water, suddenly lit up like a bulb in a dark room; that sort of made John happy. Like that conversation in that elevator. John wanted to call up Sheila. Tell her that he was sorry for shouting at her. It did not seem right what he did to her. He reached into his jacket pockets.

  He had left his phone in the office, and he wasn’t wearing a watch. He looked up at the bright sun in the sky. It was about eleven o clock. The city traffic had reached its peak about an hour ago. The streets were fairly empty now. The only vehicles on the street were drivers that were not in a hurry to get anywhere. The building on the opposite side had most of its windows open. John remembered a case he took up for one of the restaurant owners who promised drinks and dinners on the house for life. John thought of those days when life was simpler. Given his current state of mind, John did not think it would be the best thing. John actually enjoyed driving his car, but today, nothing was working out for him.

  Finally, Russo decided against driving his own car. He just wasn’t in the mood. He hailed a cab that was waiting for customers to his right. The cab driver responded quickly. Russo told him to take him to ‘Doubles’, his favorite milk bar. After his sudden encounter with the janitor who turned out to be more than what he appeared, John could not help but observe the cabby a little closely. The cab driver looked about forty five, something John could tell from the grey hair on his arm. His watch was fairly old, and he was wearing no rings. That told John that he wasn’t married. The car itself was maintained and looked almost new. The driver guy was an honest man. The sort of a driver who would return a briefcase filled with money, only because that was the right thing to do.

  The driver took the left off of 54th road and was a few more minutes away from the destination. Unlike so many other private detectives in this great city of Primer, he did not drink. This surprised almost everybody. A detective who does not drink is like a dog that does not wag its tail. He would only smile and not say anything else about his lack of a drinking habit. Sometimes he wished that he had taken up drinking like the rest of his colleagues who operated across the city of Primer. Today seemed to be one of those days. He was not trying to protect his liver or anything like that. He just did not like the effect it had on his actions. There was this one time when things went horribly wrong because of a drinking incident. The details would probably have to wait another day though. That was one long story.

  The cab reached Doubles. It seemed to have been only a minute that Russo got into the cab. John paid the fare, and something about the cab driver impressed the hell out of John Russo. As the cab was about to go away, he waved him back. The cab backed up and stopped next to him. The cab driver was an experienced fellow and seemed to understand that his most recent passenger wanted to talk. He parked his car on the side of the road, got out and walked up to the detective.

  “Hey, you wanted to talk about something?” said the cab driver.

  “Actually, yes; I think you drive really well. I am not really looking for a permanent driver. Although, occasionally, I would need the services of a driver.” said John, avoiding the hot sun which was now right above his head. The cab driver had a hat on and he did not have to worry about the sun that much.

  “That sounds like a good deal. When do you want me to swing by?” said the cab driver.

  “Actually, I do not need a driver. The thing is, I am not sure if I will be in the business myself. I am oddly confused about everything. Have you gone through something like that? You know, in your life, and job, and driving?” asked John, almost managing to turn this from a hiring activity to a discussion about self-discovery.

  “Sir, if you don’t mind me saying this, but young man, you should talk to someone. You have got to talk to someone before you lose your mind.” said the cab driver.

  “You are like the tenth person to say that. Six of those were the voices in my head.” said John.

  “I suppose I did not cross any lines there, then?” asked the cab driver, feeling happy that he actually did not cross any lines.

  “Not at all, but I don’t know if I will actually be working again. If I do get back to business, I would like to use you as my occasional driver. Do you have a card?”

  “Here you go, strange customer.” said the driver, handing over a card. John took the card, looked at it, laughed at the joke that was printed at the back about two cars with three wheels, and put it in his wallet. With the wallet in and the discussion completed, the cab driver returned to his car and John just stood there, thinking about what he said. He also thought about his receptionist and the janitor. Finally he seemed to have made up his mind.

  He told himself that he would be fine once he spoke with the server at the Doubles. As he stepped in, he noticed familiar surroundings. The diner was no bigger than the average burger joint that the detective probably would find elsewhere. There were about a dozen round tables on center with five chairs spread out like a traffic junction that acted like a meeting point. On either side of the round table collection was one row filled with straight tables and chairs.

  John noticed that each chair was of a different styling, although all of them were made of the same wood. Every table had a menu and a cup holder with a Chinese made water vase next to it. The center tables had no customers in them, but there were some at the straight tables on either side. The counter was being manned by three tellers, and two of them were relaxing, both of them hooked onto the racing game on the big screen television in the kitchen. He had been going there as long as he could remember, and everything seemed to be just as it was a few years ago, and years before that.

  He had his first milkshake at the age of five at Doubles. That was almost twenty years ago. Time sure flew by when you were busy snooping on cheating spouses, he told himself, taking the seat that was farthest from the television. The bartender, who looked far too old to be working as a bartender, noticed him take a chair. He let one of his subordinates take over manning the counter, and moved to that chair.

  “So, what will you have, detective?” he said to Russo.

  “Dad, you always know what I want.” said Russo, finally flashing a genuine smile. Russo’s father, Tim Russo, moved into Primer about thirty years ago. He spent a few years waiting tables until he saved enough money to open Doubles. Doubles was the name that was suggested by John Russo when his father was having difficulty coming up with a name. Russo would not tell them why he wanted it to be named Doubles. Over the years, he forgot why he liked that name. Even without the knowledge of its source, the name stuck. Twenty years later, the joint was still here.

  “I know, son. Rocky is bringing it right now.” said his father, pulling off the apron and settling down on the chair opposite him.

  “Thanks, Dad. Actually Dad, could you make the milk shake yourself? Please.” asked John, unsure if he should really be discussing what he wanted to di
scuss. He and his father were close, but not as close as you would see in those family movies.

  “No problem, son. I will be back in a few minutes.” said the elder Russo, getting up and heading back to the kitchen.

  As the senior Russo walked back to the kitchen, John could not help but think of a similar scenario three years ago. It happened at the exact same table. John had just finished his third year of his college education and returned home for the summer vacation. His mother told him to go see his father, who wanted to talk to him about something. John was always the smart guy. That day though, he did not need his smartness to figure out what exactly the discussion was about.

  As he drove to his father’s diner that day, he was, in an odd way, impressed with himself. He thought his lie would come out a lot earlier than it did. He was surprised that his façade held on for so long. He should be proud of himself and maybe give himself a pat on the back. He actually patted himself as he drove through the busy streets of Primer, taking a left at the 56th, then overcoming the dozen signal lights, and finally reaching his father’s diner. As soon as he stepped out of his car after parking it, he knew that he was up for some serious reprimanding.

  John was just about to step into the diner when his phone rang. John was in no mood to answer phone calls. The discussion, which was about to happen with his father was an important one. Out of habit, he pulled out his phone to see who it might be. When he saw the name on the display, he was glad that he answered the phone call. It was Rod, his best friend at the university.

  “John, have you reached your father’s diner place yet?” said Rod.

  “I was just about to enter the place. You got me just in time. What happened, Rod?” said John.

  “Look, you do know what this discussion is going to be about, don’t you?” asked Rod. Rod was his best friend and his concern was as genuine as it could get.

  “Of course I know, Rod. The deed is done, and there is no way to take that back now. I cannot go back in time and change that, Rod. You know that better than anyone.” said John.

  “John, I know you. Even if there was a time machine, you would not take up on that ride. Before you go in, though, I want to ask you to drop your…”

  “Drop my what, Rod?”

  “Well. I will come out and say it right away. Drop your aggressive attitude. It is one thing to defend your turf when you are in college and trying to win. I am fairly certain that you are going to argue with your father, and try to defend your decisions. Wasn’t that your plan? Talk to your father, make things worse.” said Rod.

  John did not say anything. He did not want to argue with Rod, because he was right. John’s plan was simple. He was going to get angry and defend like there was no tomorrow against his own father. As Rod said, that was John’s policy of dealing with problems.

  “I will take it from your silence that you agree with me. John, try to look at this from your parent’s perspective. You have lied to them for more than four years. You promised them that you would be pursuing something, and now they know that you have been doing something entirely different. As your friend, I understand that you had your reasons for doing what you did. I am proud of what you did.” said Rod.

  “Thanks, Rod.” said John.

  “You don’t need to thank me. All I am doing is backing you up. I just want you to do one thing, John. Once you step into the diner, you will probably find your father furious. Things will get ugly. Here is the truth. They don’t have to get ugly. Try your best not to get aggressive. Keep telling yourself that you are talking to your father, the person responsible for your existence in this world. Think of your mother. If you have any room left in your mind, think of me as well. Bottom line, come what may, do not get excited and work things out. You trained to be a detective, and you have told me so many times that patience is the key. In many ways, this interaction you are going to have with your father is your first real world test. Do you get me, John?” said Rod.

  “I hear what you are saying, Rod. I promise that I will be nice.” said John.

  “I am happy to hear that. I am also happy that you respect my words enough to agree with me. Okay, let me know how it goes later. Bye for now.” said Rod, hanging up.

  The diner had most of its exterior lights shut off, and there was a board which said ‘Not Open’. John thought hard about what his Dad would say. John knew what that meant. The diner had been closed for business for the day. It was odd, because it was only seven in the evening, and the diner would run until the clock struck eleven. John took a deep breath and walked toward the door, building up his counter argument. He was thinking of all the many questions that his father was going to ask. He tried to put himself in his father’s position and imagine how he would react if his own son had done something like this. He tried hard, but could not imagine anything. John was not father material, and his relationships were never long enough to build him or prepare him to become a father. As he reached the door of the diner, he gave up imagining being his father. He decided to go with whatever was his gut feeling and pushed open the door.

  His father was sitting at the far right corner table, which was his favorite table. The same table he would always sit at when he was a young boy. As John walked closer, he removed his jacket and hung it on one of the coat hangers. As he reached the table, his father did not look up at him. Senior Russo seemed furious, but he did not seem angry. John took a seat, and switched off his cell phone. The discussion could go on for a while, and the last thing he wanted was a phone call at the most inopportune time. As he sat down and looked directly into his father’s face, he was wishing that he had brought his mother along with him.

  You really have messed things up, John. Just remember what Rod has just told you. Everything will be fine as long as you keep your head straight and keep calm. It is all going to be alright, John spoke to himself. His father pushed a glass filled with a milk shake, John’s favorite drink, toward him. John picked it up and took a sip. Despite his father’s mood or whatever it was, the drink tasted good. John waited quietly for his father to speak first. Minutes passed, and finally, the senior Russo spoke.

  “I received your university letter today John. Just as I expected, you have got A+ in all the subjects that you have studied. I am not even surprised with the grading, despite what other parents said about the university being a little rigid with their evaluation.” said the senior Russo.

  John could not help but notice a hint of pride in his father’s voice. His father might be upset about what he has discovered, but he was still proud of his son. John had always been extremely good at anything he did. This applied his skills to his studying habits as well. John always loved showing his report cards to his father, letting him pat him on his head, and then watch his face smile like a lion that has just had a full meal.

  John wanted to respond to what the senior Russo had just said, but decided to keep quiet. He wanted his father to bring up the topic of discussion.

  “That is all well and fine, John. What bothered me was the title of the report. It said that you are not part of the program that will end with you becoming a criminal lawyer. It says here that you are studying to become a criminal investigator. I don’t quite understand. Every semester, you would send us letters saying that you are doing well, and not once, did you mention anything about this.” said the senior Russo. It was clear that he was holding back a lot of rage. If John were ten years old, or even a teenager, senior Russo might have shouted at him. As a responsible father, he realized that he has a twenty year old son, and shouting would not get him far.

  Chapter 2

  John still did not say anything. The senior Russo continued.

  “Two years ago, when you came running to me with the admission letter to the University, I thought you promised to become a lawyer. You did not even argue with me and just went with it. For the last two years, I have been paying the fees, your expenses,
and your mother’s been praying that you would come out with a degree in law. Will you please tell me what is going on here, son? Why did you lie to me? Why did you lie to us?” asked the senior Russo, at the verge of losing his calmness and his voice.

  For a while there was almost complete silence, the only sound coming from the ticking of a clock hanging above the main door. Both of the Russos continued to look at each other. John finally spoke.

  “I am sorry, Dad. Something told me that you wouldn’t even let me join the University if I told you that I never wanted to be a lawyer. I knew that you would argue with me that becoming an investigator is kid’s stuff. You would have said there was no future in it, and wouldn’t be able to make a good living. So, I enrolled in the University and figured out a way to switch courses mid-way. I am sorry for keeping you in the dark. I am also sorry for keeping mother in the dark about this as well. I wanted to tell you about this and did not want a letter from the University to break the news.” said John.

  “John, my son, you are not a kid anymore. You do realize that we don’t live in a noir world, where some criminal will steal a doll. Then, some crazy woman will walk into your office and ask for private help. We don’t live in such a world. And, did you forget the difficulty your father faced when you were young? I slaved my entire life to raise you with comfort, and...”

  “Dad, I don’t want to hear that story again. Yes, you worked hard to be where you are. Yes, I know you wanted to be a lawyer and decided to give up on your ambitions to raise a family. I know all about that. I am glad you did, and I am glad that you gave me an easy life to live. Unfortunately Dad, I am not you. I don’t want to be a lawyer. You wanted to. Not me!” said John, with the last few words almost sounding like big blocks of bricks being dropped from a height.

  The senior Russo, who had been as calm as possible, got up from his chair, his face filled with anger. When the words came out of him, it was more of a scream than a conversation.