by Lincoln Cole
Without light coming through the windows it was dark, but he could still see the last pot of coffee sitting on the coffee maker. The machine was still on keeping the forgotten pot hot. A fire hazard if ever there was one.
Richard flicked it off. He considered pouring the coffee out as well to avoid future stains on the glass but decided against it. He doubted Jason would care about a few stains.
He headed back to the hallway and wandered into Jason’s office. It was the one farthest at the end, small and cramped with a polished desk taking up half the space. It was stacked with papers and letters and opened envelopes.
Most seemed to be magazines and coupons with a few credit card applications snuck in for good measure. The kind of mail he threw away without opening. Bags from various fast food restaurants filled the trash can and tainted the air with rotten food.
He heard laughing from out in the hallway and the main door being opened several times. The noise level was dying down as people left. Richard wandered around the desk and collapsed into the chair, yawning. It was comfortable with ample padding.
The problem with a lot of office chairs was they had too much padding and not the right kind. He liked the ones that formed to his back, like memory foam, and his brother seemed to have a similar taste.
“Come on Jason,” he mumbled to himself, spinning the chair around. “Hurry the hell up.”
How long would people want to stick around just to chat?
He kept spinning the chair in boredom. He paused, though, when something on the desk caught his eye.
One of the letters he noticed was near the bottom of the stack, with only enough sticking out to show an official seal. It was a state seal from the Governor’s Office. The kind of seal he ran across in official business at the law firm.
He gingerly pulled the paper free from beneath the mound and glanced it over. Very quickly he felt his eyes narrow and his mood sour. He felt his stomach tighten up as phrases like ‘we regret to inform you’ and ‘fiscally impractical’ jumped out at him.
It was a notice to Jason that all state funding would be cut from the clinic and the office of the Governor was apologizing for the inconvenience. Apparently it was no longer fiscally prudent to have clinics in ‘low value’ locations.
It didn’t specify when the funding would end, but the letter was dated six months ago, which meant that it would be going into effect fairly soon. Maybe even within the next few months.
Richard doubted Jason received any support other than state funding. He never charged anyone for coming to the clinic.
Which meant that Jason’s livelihood was about to disappear and he needed to find a new benefactor. Someone to pay the bills while he ran his clinic.
Which meant…
Things suddenly clicked into place for Richard. Jason had brought him here hoping Richard would speak to the Governor for him, or give him money to keep his clinic open.
Apparently today everyone was planning to manipulate and use him.
It was bad enough having Nichole try to manipulate him into committing fraud, considering what she was going through, but Jason was a completely different story. They didn’t even know each other anymore, had barely been more than acquaintances in years.
And with everything else going on today, right now he frankly didn’t have time to deal with it.
He heard footsteps coming down the hallway.
“Richard, you back here?”
Jason. Richard felt a burst of anger well up in his stomach and pushed himself away from the desk. He hurried to the door, still clutching the letter. Jason stepped through the doorway just as Richard reached it.
“There you—”
Richard shouldered his brother roughly into the wall, holding his elbow against his brother’s sternum.
“What the hell is this?” Richard demanded, holding up the letter.
“Wha—what?”
“This!” Richard said. “You’re going to lose your funding. You won’t have the money to maintain this clinic.”
Jason’s eyes hardened. He pushed Richard back. “You went through my stuff?”
“That’s why you brought me here,” Richard said, angrily wadding the paper and tossing it on the floor. “So you could make me feel guilty and I would talk to the damn Governor for you.”
“No,” Jason replied. “That isn’t why at all.”
“No wonder you were so pushy to get me here,” Richard continued, ignoring his brother. “You wanted me to see these pathetic people so you could beg for help and I wouldn’t be able to refuse. Right?”
“Richard—“
“It’s so like you,” Richard said. He started pacing, he was so angry. “I’m having a terrible day where everything is going wrong, and this is what you put me through. God, just like when we were children.”
“Richard, please, I swear that isn’t why…”
“Ever since you were a little kid and I had all the best toys. You always…”
Jason turned away and leaned heavily against the wall, letting out a deep sigh. Richard trailed off, unable to keep his momentum. It wasn’t the reaction he was expecting from Jason.
“No,” Jason said, his voice soft. He pushed away from the wall and walked to his desk. He moved the pile of papers aside, pulling another one out. “If you had gone a few papers further down the stack…”
He handed it to Richard.
Richard glanced at it. “This is an eviction notice.”
“Dated last Friday,” Jason said, unable to meet his brother’s gaze. “Effective tomorrow.”
“But they don’t give you these until you miss several payments…”
“Eight,” Jason said. “They were generous, letting me stay this long, but it’s over. I’m eight months behind on the rent Richard. That paper—” he waved vaguely at the crumpled sheet on the floor “—was sent from the Governor’s office in March almost as an afterthought. The funding cuts went into effect the first of this year.”
“Oh,” Richard replied.
“I have to be moved out by tomorrow and turn over the keys. It’s over. I wasn’t even going to tell you about it because there’s nothing you could do. And it isn’t your job anyway. I just…”
Richard couldn’t think of anything to say. Jason turned, facing him. His eyes were wet.
“I just wanted you to see it. Once. Before it was gone. I just wanted…” he rubbed his eyes. “I failed, Rick. I failed and lost everything. They cut the funding and no one wants to invest in a clinic in this neighborhood. You always said…back when we were kids…you said I was a screw up. That I wasn’t good for anything.”
Jason let out a deep sigh.
“And you were right.”
“Jason…I…”
“I just wanted you to see it once before I was evicted. That’s why I pressured for you to come tonight, because it was the only chance I would have to show it to you. You’ll say: ‘I told you so’ later but just once I wanted you to see what I had built. What I accomplished.”
The silence was unbearable. “I’m sorry.”
Jason shook his head. “No, you’re right. You were always right. I just need a minute, to say my goodbyes, and then we can leave.”
Richard let out a deep breath and nodded, heading back into the main room. He didn’t know if his brother would forgive him for the things he’d said. He usually had a good sense of when he was being an asshole, and this time he’d taken it way farther than he should have.
So much for diplomacy.
The chairs were neatly folded along the wall and the main room was empty. Quiet and peaceful, he realized. The room was welcoming and calming. It was unassuming and comforting without being ostentatious. His brother had put a hell of a lot of work into the decorum of this place to make people feel at home as soon as they came in.
Richard felt like an ass. His brother hadn’t come to him for money. He’d come to him for approval. For three years he ran this clinic alone and Richard never once came to
visit it. A standing invitation and not once did he find the time to come see what his brother had put his life’s work into.
When Richard finally did come to see the place, all he could do was accuse his brother of being selfish.
Maybe he could try to make amends later. Help him get a job. His little brother did have a lot of skills and a lot to offer, he’d just invested his life in a career that was hard to succeed in.
The government was perpetually looking to trim the fat from their budgets, and the programs it chose were inevitably the ones with the least support from millionaires.
Keep the oil subsidies. Keep farm bill for big corporations and tax cuts and loopholes for the wealthy. Drop the AA clinics and mental institutions from the cities where poor people lived.
Who knows, maybe Richard could—
There was a quiet knocking sound, and it took Richard a moment to realize it was coming from the front door. He checked his watch and saw that it was nearing ten o’clock. Who would be here this late, now that everything was over with?
He went over to the door. It wasn’t locked, but he gently pulled it open. Ben, the rail thin kid from earlier, was standing there. From the looks of things, he had probably been crying.
Chapter 20
Richard
“It wasn’t locked,” Richard said.
The kid looked startled. “Oh, I’m…uh…sorry. I was looking for Jason. The guy who runs the clinic.”
“He’s in the back.”
“Oh. Okay I guess I could come back…”
“Are you okay?” Richard asked.
The kid hesitated, as if unsure how to answer the question. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“It’s Ben, right? Look, Ben, what are you doing here? The clinic is closed and everyone left.”
“I, uh…uh…I uh…” the kid said, looking around nervously and fidgeting.
“Spit it out.”
The kid glanced up the street one last time and then pulled his jacket aside. The head of a bottle of whiskey stuck out of his pocket.
“Oh, Christ,” Richard said.
As if that was a trigger, the kid burst out sobbing. Richard stepped out of the way and gestured for him to come in. After a second Ben stumbled inside, still sobbing, and Richard closed the door behind him.
“What’s going on?” Jason asked, appearing from the back hallway. “Ben? Are you okay?”
Ben opened the coat again, showing the bottle. Jason hurried over and took it from inside the kid’s coat. Ben didn’t object, just stood as still as a statue like the bottle was about to bite him.
“You didn’t drink any, did you?”
Ben shook his head. “It isn’t opened.”
“Where did you get it?”
“I stole it,” Ben said. “Shop up the road.”
“You stole it?” Richard asked incredulously. “Do they have cameras?”
“Why did you take it, Ben?” Jason asked, ignoring Richard.
“I planned to drink it,” Ben said, another tear slipping down his cheek. “I wanted to so badly and it seemed like a good idea. Man, I’m not like you. I can’t just turn it off.”
“We should call the police,” Richard said.
Jason continued ignoring him. “But you didn’t drink any,” Jason said. “You came here instead. Because you want to talk, right?”
“I’m calling the police,” Richard said, pulling his phone out.
“No,” Jason said, grabbing Richard’s hand.
There was something in his tone that gave Richard pause. An unquestioning iron he wasn’t used to hearing in his little brother’s voice. Jason wasn’t asking his opinion, he was simply telling him how it was going to be.
“No, I know the shop he’s talking about. The guy who owns it is a friend, and this isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”
“I’m not getting charged with aiding and abetting,” Richard said, but he did turn the phone off and put it back in his pocket.
“No one is getting charged with anything,” Jason said. “I’ll talk to the guy and return the bottle.”
He turned back to Ben. “And then we will talk?” Jason asked. His tone made it clear that there was only one acceptable answer.
Ben nodded.
“Keep him here,” Jason said to Richard, “and I’ll be back in a bit.”
Then Jason grabbed his coat and disappeared outside, shutting the door behind him. Richard and Ben stood in awkward silence, staring at each other. The kid wasn’t sobbing anymore, but his eyes were red from the recent episode. He looked small, frail, and young. He couldn’t be more than twenty-seven.
It looked like Richard wasn’t going to get home as soon as he would have liked.
Chapter 21
“Do you want to…have a seat?” Richard asked.
The kid didn’t reply, but he didn’t object either. Richard grabbed a pair of chairs from the wall and unfolded them beside the tables. He sat in one, and after a moment the kid sat in the other. “So, Ben, right?”
No reply.
“Where are you from, Ben?”
Still nothing. Ben stared at his shoes and pretended like he couldn’t hear. Richard shrugged and leaned back in his chair, wondering how long Jason would take to drop off the bottle and get back. He hadn’t seen any liquor shops up the way so it might be a little bit of a drive.
He also doubted the place didn’t have a camera. Any self-respecting liquor shop would have a few of them in key locations. If the guy running the shop didn’t already know there was a bottle missing there was a good chance he would notice before too long.
Then again, the kid might have been slick enough to get out without alerting anyone. It was hard to say, but he was still glad Jason was bringing it back. As long as cops weren’t involved it shouldn’t be too big of a deal.
“I’m not really from anywhere,” Ben said suddenly, breaking the silence. Ben was still staring down at his shoes, seemingly talking to himself. “I don’t have anywhere to go, either. I’m just sort of here.”
“Are you homeless?”
Ben looked up sharply. “What?”
“I don’t mean anything by it. You just have that look about you.”
“This is stupid,” Ben replied. “I don’t know why I came here. You guys can’t help me.”
He stood and started walking toward the exit. “The second you go out that door,” Richard said, “I’m calling the police and letting them know you robbed a liquor store.”
“Man, you wouldn’t do that.”
“The hell I wouldn’t,” Richard said. He held up his phone for emphasis and then slid it back into his pocket. “You’re stuck here until Jason gets back at the very least. So you might as well sit back down and try to relax.”
Ben seemed to think it over for a second, and then with a loud sigh he collapsed back into the chair. “This is stupid.”
“I’m not disagreeing. You want something to drink?”
“That a joke?”
“I meant water,” Richard said. “Or coffee.”
“No, I don’t want any damn coffee.”
Richard poured himself a cup and took a sip. Still bitter, but at least it would keep him awake.
“You sure? It could be a while and it’s still warm.”
“I said I don’t want any,” the kid said, folding his arms like a petulant child. Richard poured him a cup anyway and set it on the table next to him.
Ben just stared at him, arms folded and an annoyed look on his face.
“This is stupid. I’m going to go.”
“I’ll call the cops.”
“Then do it. What the hell does it matter anyway?”
“Listen, kid,” Richard said, leaning forward. “I’ve been having one hell of a bad day, so you do not want to test my patience. I’m a lawyer, and if you make me call the cops on you I’m going to make it my purpose in life to keep you in jail as long as I can.”
“What’s it matter to
you?”
“It matters to me because my brother told you to stay put. You aren’t going anywhere until Jason is back.”
“Fine,” Ben said, looking away.
“Why did you start coming to the clinic?”
“What?”
“A month ago. You just started showing up, out of the blue, and yet you never talk during the meetings. What changed a month ago?”
Ben eyed him. “Leave me alone.”
“I know kids like you,” Richard said. “I did a stint as a public defender when I started out in law, and I know the good ones and the bad ones. You aren’t one of the bad ones. Dumb, maybe, but not bad. You wouldn’t have started coming to the clinic if something in your life didn’t change. So what changed?”
“Man, drop it.”
“Did you start pissing blood? Get into a fight?”
“I said leave it alone.”
“Rob a church? Beat up a schoolteacher?”
“I got a girl pregnant,” Ben said.
Chapter 22
Richard
He blurted it out, the words hanging in the air. They were both silent for a minute.
“Happy? Now you know my story. I got a girl pregnant.”
“A month ago?”
“No. Not now, I mean a few months ago and…look I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“No, you don’t,” Richard said. “And quite frankly I could care less, but I don’t get to go home until you explain why you’re here after hours, so stop being a little jackass and tell me what happened to get you here. So you got a girl pregnant and she told you about it a month ago? That’s why you started showing up?”
Ben sighed and shook his head. “She didn’t actually tell me…look, man, it’s complicated.”
“It usually is.”
Ben looked back at the floor. “I’m not good for a kid. I’m no good for anyone. I don’t have a job. Or a house. I can’t offer this kid anything and I won’t be a good father.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Look at me!” Ben said, holding out his arms for emphasis. “I’m wearing dirty clothes, I live on the street or in shelters, and I don’t have a penny to my name.”
