The Gorging (4 page)
They pulled into the drive-thru and Bobby pulled out his wallet, ready to order the steak biscuits he knew he had to make good on, or he would never hear the end of it from his son until he was probably fifty or sixty years old. Bobby ordered, pulled forward, paid, and quickly got back on the road. “Here, you enjoy this.” He handed the bag to Eddie.
“You want one, dad?” Eddie was feeling generous this morning, having suckered his dad into buying him breakfast. Not something mommy would do. Fast food is unhealthy in a nurse’s eyes. Nikki is a vegetarian. She decided it was best to quit eating meat altogether when she had the notion to become a nurse. So eating sausage or beef for breakfast, lunch, or dinner was out of the question for her. She didn’t enforce it so much on Bobby as she did Eddie. So having the fast food for breakfast was definitely a treat for Eddie. Bobby thought about becoming a vegetarian himself, but couldn’t fathom the idea of giving up that precious and delicious food. Oh the hamburgers, chicken sandwiches, fish, all of it. Well, maybe not the fish so much, Nikki wasn’t a complete and total dedicated vegetarian. She still ate sushi and fish tacos whenever she got the chance. No cows or chickens for her though.
The traffic started backing up in front of Jefferson Elementary School where Eddie was doing an outstanding job keeping his grades up in the fifth grade. Bobby shrugged his shoulders and let out of sigh of disappointment knowing now he would be stuck with all the evil, twisted looking parents that thought their children were the cream of the crop. Maybe they’re not really evil and twisted looking, but Bobby thought they could be. He has a creative imagination; that imagination helped him to get to where he is today at the news station. Sure, news stories are supposed to be true, but with a little creativity, you can turn even the most boring and uninteresting story into a work of art. Bobby’s magic touch of the pen to the paper, or these days the finger to the keyboard, typing out the elaborate stories that he hopes will one day soon get him that promotion. Nikki makes entirely more than he does, and he doesn’t like that the woman in the house brings in more money than the man. He never says anything to her, but he thinks it every time he checks the bank account, noticing how small his check is in comparison to Nikki’s check from the hospital. He knows deep down inside that he’s a little jealous of her, but he won’t let her see it. It would make him feel weak and not so much like a man. Of course Nikki knows how he feels about it, but she doesn’t like to talk about the money. She’s happy that her husband is able to pursue his dream of being a writer. She just wishes he would put more concentration on the novels he’s been working on, rather than rotting away in that cubicle, churning out two-bit news stories for some dimwit suites sitting behind large oak desks. She knows he can write books if he is able to put more of himself into it. They have the money. She wanted him to quit the news station, but she wouldn’t dare ask him to do it. It would be detrimental to his manhood if she did. She would have to start wearing the pants around the house if this happened. She’s hoping that one day Bobby will take a good long look at himself in the mirror and start seeing the gray hair that wasn’t there before he started working in the news media. Hopefully then he would realize where his talents are needed the most. She just hopes that he realizes it before all his hair is gray or gone.
Bobby leaned against the door with his arm hanging out of the window. He became more and more upset as he watched the parents dropping their kids off at school. Sitting in traffic gave him time to think more about where he was headed in life instead of where he was headed in front of him. In a sense, with the traffic, he’s headed nowhere in both his mind and reality. He thought about putting Eddie out of the car right there and letting him walk the rest of the way to school, but it wouldn’t go over too well with Nikki when Eddie would tell her about it. He knew Eddie would tell her. Nikki never let Eddie walk. She would sit in the traffic as long as it took just to drive him up to the front entrance and kiss him goodbye, telling him “Have a great day at school honey.”
He turned on the radio and caught the end report of something that was developing in the southern area of the United States. Something about various animals on the farms down there becoming ill and entire herds dying. This is interesting, he thought. Something he could write up quick to have ready for the evening news in Cheyenne. Too bad he caught the last of the report. He’ll have to research it when he gets to work, then he would have to sell his idea to the boss before it would end up on the air. Shouldn’t be too hard. There are plenty of farms in Wyoming. Maybe this will scare the people, too, make them think it could happen to them. Bobby laughed at the idea of scaring the shit out of the people. It reminded him of the old radio show “The War of the Worlds” with Orson Welles. It didn’t occur to Bobby that his son had just eaten two steak biscuits for breakfast. He was playing it out in his mind for the news story he was already contemplating.
People Become Sick from Eating Animals. Thousands Hospitalized
. Oh, such a great story. Not one thought in his mind that it could scare the shit out of Eddie and Nikki, the part-time vegetarian.
Finally, traffic started moving along, and Eddie was out of the car and on his way to another dreadful day in school. He would have to deal with the kids making fun of him because he’s smart, but not just that. He would be terrorized sometimes by the bullies because he is a mixed kid. They call him things like Oreo or Half & Half. He can’t help that his skin is a certain color. He sometimes wished they lived in some other place more excepting of him. He would never tell his parents about this. Eddie wanted to deal with it on his own, but it was starting to eat away at him subconsciously and psychologically. This is the very reason Bobby and Nikki moved from North Carolina, to avoid the racism. Cheyenne is also where Bobby grew up before he served a stint in the Marines, and Nikki was happy to go anywhere her husband went. They hadn’t experienced the racism since moving to Cheyenne, but Eddie sure is hell experiencing it. Fucking kids.
After working his way out of the school parking lot, Bobby made it to work in a fairly decent time. Nothing to worry about with the gas saving Ford Focus, small, but gets him everywhere he needs to go quickly and it’s good for the environment, too. That’s what Nikki would tell him when they bought the car two years ago. Bobby wanted the new Camaro, but with an eight year old at the time, it wasn’t going to happen. He even begged for the six-cylinder version, but a Camaro is still a Camaro and the answer was still no.
He pulled into the parking lot of Cheyenne Channel 4 News and got out of his little economically efficient compact. All he could think about was finishing up his pending news story and then finding out more about this new development he just learned about on the radio. Only having caught part of it, he really didn’t know for sure if it would even be a good enough story worth pursuing. In the back of his mind he was also thinking about the trip he wants to take to Denver with Nikki and Eddie. They could use a vacation, even if it was only for a couple of days over the weekend. Nikki had been working nights for as long as he could remember and Eddie hadn’t been out of state since he was a mere six years old, and that was just a quick run over Scottsbluff in Nebraska to put together an exclusive. He took Eddie and Nikki for the short trip just so they could say they got out of Wyoming at least once since they had moved there. They didn’t just need to take this vacation to Denver; it would nearly be a requirement. Things have been a little on edge at home lately. Bobby knew that Nikki seemed like she was growing tired of being around him, but she always assured him it was just their different work schedules throwing off the love cycle. Bobby couldn’t image that she would ever cheat on him, but the thought crossed his mind every once in awhile. Some of the male nurses have got better looks than him and their paychecks are much larger than his.
At home, Nikki lay in bed with her eyes closed. She wasn’t able to get to sleep right away after Bobby had taken Eddie off to school. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking about how much she hated being on the night shift and being away from her husband and child so much. She felt it was starting to tear them apart. Not tearing them apart beyond repair, but just putting extra strain on their marriage. She thought about Bobby asking her to go on vacation down to Denver for the weekend. It seems like a great idea, she thought. She smiled a little as she lay there, thinking about all the good times and how enjoyable it would be to see the Rockies and breathe in the fresh mountain air. The snow would be coming in soon and if they were lucky enough, Eddie would be able to build a snowman somewhere while on vacation. He can do it in Cheyenne, but Denver snow feels different for some strange reason. She got excited just thinking about it. She can’t go back to sleep now.
She reached for the remote and turned on the television, thinking that maybe she’ll watch one of her soap operas. That would help her doze off again. She turned on the television. The connection seemed to be restored and the news is on, but not the Channel 4 news where Bobby works. It’s the Channel 5 News. Better not let Bobby know, she thought. Wouldn’t want him to know the competitor is on in their house. She tucked the pillow up under her head and laid the remote down at her side.
That asshole Bob Varner, from the Channel 5 News, was blabbering on about something that seemed to catch her attention. What’s this? Massive livestock deaths? This doesn’t seem logical, she thought. Bob Varner got the story before Channel 4. Bobby won’t like this. The Channel 5 reporter kept talking of a massive death of livestock across southern Kentucky. Several farms had experienced the sudden loss of cattle, chickens, and pigs, nearly all of their animals. Nikki thought to herself that it was tragic for such a thing to happen, knowing the farmers would be hurting bad for money now having lost their main source of income. The economy would certainly take a hard it, and it hasn’t been a good year for the budget in Washington. The selfish thought ran through her mind that she’s glad she’s a vegetarian. Then she had a cold thought suddenly. What if the wave of livestock deaths wasn’t just a random thing? What if previous animals could be infected with whatever it is that caused these animals to die and the infected meat had been circulated throughout the country? The reporter hadn’t said anything about any poisonings or other animals being affected. Nikki just had the thought about it because of her health consciousness. She’s a nurse. That’s what they do. She changed the channel to one of her soap operas. Not this depressing news stuff anymore.
At the Channel 4 News station, Bobby plopped down in his uncomfortable chair. It could have been an old wooden school desk chair considering how much it made his ass hurt. The station wasn’t nice enough to the storywriters to give them something decent to sit in. They gave the nice plush and comfortable chairs to the newscasters. The chairs you could fall asleep in after only sitting in it for five minutes. The cubicle surrounding Bobby made him feel trapped and separated from the real world. He thought to himself why he continues to come here day after day and sit there being miserable. He thinks the same thought every day. He just never does anything about it. Quitting his job isn’t an option though. Sure, Nikki could cover the bills, but he didn’t like the thought of being a stay at home dad and his books are no where near being finished enough to send to a publisher. Then it would take years for the first one to hit the bookstores if any one of his writings did make it that far. Too many ifs.
A big hand slapped Bobby across the back of the neck, causing him to drop his pencil on the floor. He let out a cry as he grabbed the back of his neck and turned to see who had just given him a good whack. Pete Sanders slapped his cold, grimy looking hand across Bobby’s neck. “What the hell you do that for?” Bobby said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Hey, man,” said Pete. “I’m just trying to help you wake up this morning.” Pete laughed as he stood in the entrance to Bobby’s cubicle, holding a huge coffee cup in one hand and the other trying to hold in his gut as it jiggled from laughing so hard.
“Yeah, thanks.” Bobby picked up his pencil and continued writing on his yellow legal pad.
“Whatcha writing?” Pete leaned over Bobby’s shoulder, trying to catch a peek.
“I got an idea for a story.” Bobby kept scribbling on the paper. “I want to get my thoughts together before I present it to Masterson.”
“Ha. That son of a bitch. You know he won’t let you bring any story ideas to him.” Pete laughed. “He never plays receiver. He’s the giving kind, not the taking kind. Unless it’s your vacation. He’ll take that.”
Pete was right. Mr. Masterson is the big prick producer and calls all the shots for the station. Not once in the four years that Bobby has worked there as a writer, nor the seven that Pete has worked as a writer there, too, not once has Mr. Masterson let anyone bring an idea to him.
Mr. Masterson was born and raised in Cheyenne and grew up watching the Channel 4 news. His father founded the news station after he came back from serving in WWII, and then left the station to his son when he died of the big “C.” The first Masterson was just as much of an asshole as his son is. It ran in their family for sure. Pete found this out the day he came to work for the station, just the same as Bobby found out when he did the same. They’ve had to live with it, and take the shit. It’s the most decent paying job a couple of writers could get in Cheyenne. Bobby could be making tons if he would listen to his wife about his writing, but his pride won’t let him, so he’ll be stuck working in his cubicle until he retires or the good Lord decides to come calling, but it’s a miserable place, so he’ll probably never die. He’ll just be living in the hell on earth, between three gray, clothed covered, shoulder-height walls. Don’t forget the wooden, shitty chair, too.
