Authors: G L Rockey
I said. “Yeah, look
where we are today with you guys running the show.”
“You don't like it
Carr, go to China, see how that works.”
“How 'bout someplace
warm.”
Berry waved me off
then, picking at an open scab, said to Jay, “How is it you never got married,
Jay, smart good-looking guy like you. All these horny females running around
looking for a clam bake.”
Jay looked at me and
smiled. “I thought Jack was taking care of them all.”
“Har har har.” Berry
had circled behind me. He slapped me on the shoulder. “That right Carr?”
Taunt already,
surprised at the slap, I wanted to kick something, but I pushed my pause button
and sucked it in.
Berry chuckled as he
ambled to his office door. “Okay, Jay boy, I want you to start thinking how
you'll promote our new weather show, ton of promotion, our air, and billboards,
like I said, we want a ton of billboards, one on every corner.” Berry opened
the door.
Standing, Jay looked
like, on final approach, fifty feet in the air, an airline attendant had opened
a door and yelled ‘EVERYBODY OUT’!
Jay said, “That's it?”
Berry said, “That's
it.”
Jay looked at me.
“We're going to do it?”
“
Allegro
.” I said.
Berry tossed me a look
like I might be dog dropping on his carpeting.
Jay walked to Berry.
“I hope you understand … the research … I was only….”
“I understand. Good
work. Go put your promotion hat on, get on those billboards.”
Jay said, “When do you
think we'll start it … we'll need a photo shoot … some….”
“We'll announce her
premiere tomorrow, formal, like I said, have to work out a few details. Don't
say anything just yet.” Berry winked at me.
I winked back.
Jay said, “I'll work
up some generic ideas and….”
“Good, you do that.
Now, back to the grindstone, Jay, good work.” Berry closed the door in Jay's
face and, strutting back to his desk, said, “We gotta get rid of that chicken
shit candy ass and I know it and you know it and Big Joe can't stand him. Hate
to admit it, made a mistake there.” He sat behind his desk, “What kind of
poetry does he write?”
“Roses are red,
violets are blue, classical stuff.”
“Bullshit.” Berry
adjusted his cufflinks. “Anyway, boy's not cuttin’ the mustard.”
I really needed a
drink, maybe two. I clicked Zippo, lit a Salem, and walked to the window to
look at something real, the weather. As I looked, it all conjugated and I was
one step closer to no longer being amazed at how the world works. I blew smoke
at the window. It fogged for a moment. I drew a little smiling face. I heard
Berry's little cat steps. He stood beside me, his eyes fixed on, shrouded in
the distance by thinning clouds, Nashville's skyline. He spoke almost
mystically like he saw something, heard something, something, “You know, Jack.
I could be Governor of this state one day. I could do it. Then … hell, who
knows … 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue could use some help.”
I took a drag of Salem
and thought,
until I get a drink, I'm not believing any of this
. I turned
to face Berry. “When do you want to start this new weather side show?”
He smacked the window
sill. “It's not a side show, goddamn it!” I think he hurt his hand and he
pranced back to his desk. “Don't start that negative crap with me.” He checked
his calendar. “April 30, two weeks, that's plenty of time. Couple weeks'
rehearsal, get her in the May ratings … oh, and tonight, we're going to meet
Peggy at The Berry, 6:30. I want you and Joe to get to know her, ask her some
questions, you know, get on board.”
“An interview?”
“Yeah.”
I thought about
telling him I had done my interview with Ms. Moore, round the world, head to
toe physical, tonsils and all, but figured, heck with it, don't burst his
bubble. “Should I wear a jacket?”
He shook his head.
“You're impossible,” and sat behind his desk.
I started to leave and
he said, “And get that non-compete contract from Luther signed, this
afternoon.”
“Got it.”
* * *
Heading for Otis, I
noticed Jay leaning against the wall in the hallway next to that picture of the
Parthenon. I drained the last drips of coffee from my mug and saw that Jay's
face had that expression humans get when they have a problem, want to talk. I
didn't want to talk. No more human sounds, not now. Maybe a bird, a cat, a dog,
but no more words. I walked past him and pushed Otis's button.
Jay next to me: “Jack,
I need to talk.”
I knew it.
The public address
system boomed:
“Jack Carr, to the front lobby, Carr, to the lobby.”
Joe Galbo's voice
seemed urgent.
The door opened. Jay
and I entered.
Jay looked at me like
he wasn't sure I had heard Galbo's page. “That page was for you.”
“What page?”
“That….”
“Down please.”
He pushed the down
button, said, “That was Galbo, paging you.”
I had a good hunch
what Joe wanted. I had parked in his slot. And I knew, knowing Joe, he was
shaking in the lobby like that famous dog passing razor blades.
Another page from the
tiny squawk box in Otis's ceiling:
“Joe Galbo, front office, Galbo, front
office.”
Berry's voice seemed
more urgent than Joe's.
Jay said. “This is
like lunch time at the zoo.”
Otis stopped and the
door opened.
I exited and walked
briskly toward my office.
Jay's voice behind me:
“Jack, wait up.”
I turned the corner
and stopped at Joy's desk.
Typing, she stopped,
looked at me like she missed the last bus home, said, “Is it Monday?”
“Think so.”
“Galbo is looking for
you.”
“I heard.”
“He's, well … he's
beside himself.”
“Which side?”
“The threatening 'you
parked in my space' side.”
I set my coffee mug on
her desk.
She looked at Jay.
“Good morning, Jay.”
“Good morning.” Jay
forced a smile.
Another page over the
P.A. speakers:
“Jack Carr, please call extension 222 immediately, please,
immediately.”
I recognized Galbo’s
secretary, P.J.’s voice, she sounded frightened. I said, “Who’s 222?”
Everybody knew 222 was
Joe Galbo’s main number.
Joy said, “Jack,
should I call P.J.? She sounds terrified.”
I looked at Jay then
spoke to Joy. “I think I’m going into a private meeting with Jay.”
Booming, there was
another page: “
JOE GALBO, FRONT OFFICE, GALBO, FRONT OFFICE, IMMEDIATELY.”
Joy said, “That takes
care of Joe for a while.”
Taking off my jacket,
I said to Joy, “I can't be disturbed, not in, out, whatever.”
Joy said, “Luther
called, wanted to talk to you. Very upset, wondered who was going to do the
weather tonight.”
I looked at Jay. “You
do weather, Jay?”
Jay took a stab at a
laugh.
Joy said, “Oh, and,
ah, ah ah….”
Joy never stuttered.
“What?” I said.
“Ms. Moore called
again.”
“I'll be talking to
Jay. We do not wish to be disturbed.” I motioned Jay into my office.
Joy, standing, asked, “Fresh coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I said.
“I'll bring it in.”
She took my mug.
I said to Jay, “I'm
not a chauvinist, it's just easier, and, Joy being in charge, she insists.”
She said, “You sure
you don't want some, Jay?”
“No, thanks.”
Jay sat in one of the
orange covered chairs facing my desk.
I closed the green
drapes overlooking the newsroom. “Freaky isn't it Jay?”
“What?”
“Living.”
Joy entered, put a
steaming mug of coffee on my desk, and said, “Jay, are you sure you don't want
some coffee?”
“No thanks, I'm fine.”
I sat behind my desk.
Joy closed the door as
she left.
I looked at Jay then
glanced at my bottom drawer where rested Jack Daniels. I said, “Well, Jay,
what's up?” I touched my lips to the hot coffee, sipped, and leaned back in my
chair.
Jay said, “Reality
check. Did I just hear Sally say we were going to replace Luther with that
broken down singer, Peggy Moore?”
“Check.”
“We're going to dump
Luther?”
“In a roundabout way.”
“Is Berry crazy?”
“Yes.”
“Are we in Nashville?”
“Yes.”
“Is this the twenty-first
century?”
“I think.”
“Are we all crazy?”
“Yes.”
“Luther, in Nashville,
is God's weatherman. This town will riot if….”
“This town won't riot.
Luther will be on Channel 3 the day after he leaves here.”
“It's insane.”
“It’s all insane, one
way or another.”
“Can I please get
off?”
“No, waters too deep.”
“Thanks.” A thin smile
turned flat. Jay studied my face which was, far as I could tell, blank.
I lit a Salem, and
beyond my closed office door I heard a loud bang then: “IS CARR IN THERE?”
Joe's baritone tones seemed higher than usual.
Joy's voice, firm:
“Yes, but he's in a meeting and he can't be disturbed.”
Joe: “This is more
important, disturb him.”
Joy: “No!”
Jay and I exchanged
mixed glances.
Joe: “I'm going in
there.”
Joy: “I said NO!”
There was a pause then
Joy: “Now, get out of here.”
There was another
longer pause. Jay and I exchanged “the hell you say” glances.
Joe: “You tell him to
see me….” his voice like he intended me to hear him, “TELL HIM TO SEE ME the
minute he gets out of there, immediately.”
Silence.
After a few seconds,
Jay said, “Joy must be crazy.”
“Hell, you say.”
Jay shook his head
then looked down like he was stirring around in that problem pot again.
I leaned my head back
further and closed my eyes. Jack Daniels was now shouting from my bottom desk
drawer.
Jay said, “What IS
going on around here?”
I opened my eyes. Jay
still there, I considered telling him about Peggy Moore and the Snakebite trade
deal with Berry, to get out, to get away, leave. But it stuck in my throat.
Then I was going to say, whatever it takes, you win, that's all that matters.
That's the world, and this world is the only one available right now. I was
going to say this, but everything seemed gloomy enough so, remembering what
Berry had said about Jay, given the state of the world, I evaded. “
Allegro
.
Quick and lively. Step to it. Or step in it. I don't know. Who knows?” I blew
smoke toward the ceiling.
“What's that mean?”
“When you walk behind
elephants, watch your step.”
“I was just trying to
make some sense up there in his office, thought I was being logical.”
“That's your first
mistake.”
He leaned forward.
“Logic is a mistake?”
I said, “Different
plane of existence. Winners and losers and Spam in between, kinda like a lie
where the beef should be.” I sipped then reflected, “You know what J.D.
Salinger said about logic?”
“I missed that.”
“The apple in the
Garden of Eden story represented logic, have to vomit it out to see the truth.”
He crossed his legs,
shifted his legal pad, then said flatly, “Wish I had stayed in Providence.” He
paused again, then asked, “Is this weather idea one of Joe Galbo's fantasies?”
“Don't think so.”
“What do you think of
Galbo?”
“Survivor. Eats goose
liver for breakfast, lunch, dinner … pounds of it, loves it, never saw a guy
eat goose liver like Joe Galbo. Drinks Cold Duck with it. Says it keeps him
loose. Every try it?”
I could tell Jay
didn't think that was funny. He said, “He takes my office … has me moved in
that rat hole back room down here on the first floor….”
“What, you don't like
the first floor?”
He studied me for a
second then said, “I don't believe this is happening.”
“Believe what you
want, saves you time wandering around.” I made a note with a blue felt tipped
pen on a piece of junk mail and threw it in my out basket.