Time and Chance (38 page)

I touched my wrist,
felt my pulse, looked at my shoes; yep, still here, standing in it, up to my
fucking tree eyeballs.

Joe suggested, first
things first, Berry should have a quick meeting of the staff in fifteen
minutes.

P.J. made the
announcement over the P.A. system.

I entered Studio A. Fifty
or so employees had gathered. Some wept, others stood in silence. I stayed in
the back with Bobbi. Joe stood by himself close to the door.

Berry, stern faced,
walked to a podium that had been set up and made the announcement: “Folks, I
don't know how to say this, most of you know, Jay Speaker blew his brains out
today.”

I glanced at Bobbi,
“He has such a way with two plus two.”

Berry wiped his lips.
“Ah, most of you didn't know, Jay had been unstable for some time and we were
worried, were considering giving him a little time off, and, ah, there were
some other problems with his personal life. You all go back to work now and
we'll keep you posted as to funeral arrangements and such. The station will be
sending flowers … thank you, all. Go on back to work now. Thank you.”

As he left the studio,
he nodded to Joe, Bobbi, and me to follow.

I stayed, thinking, funny
how an ending, especially this kind, jumbles time in your mind, brings people
together for a brief time like they've known each other forever and it could
have been them.

Going to my office all
I could think was pig. All I could whisper was “Pig.” All I could say was
“Pig.” All I could see was pig. All I could smell was pig. I left a ‘gone’ note
for Joy, walked to the parking lot where I vomited pig beside Winston, got in
thinking, pig, backed out saying “Pig.”

Winston and I headed
back to the Coney Island. Half way there, I called Sago on my two-way. He was
going over to Jay's apartment. He would meet me a little later. I thought of
Gillian.

* * *

Back at The Coney
Island, I opened the screen door and let it slap shut behind me.

Charley said, “Hey,
Jack, ya just left.”

“I need more
forgiveness.”

I assumed a back booth
and, as I conjugated past, present, and future tense, I felt the air from the
oscillating fan gently sweep the back of my head. Felt good. I could see a fly
buzzing around trying to go somewhere and I wondered if it might be that
scientist that botched up his trip in The Fly. The lime smell from the toilet,
strong, helped the thought.

At the Coney for a
half hour, after that heavy lunch, I sipped a double Jack Daniels on the rocks
and with a pretty good load on, noticed Sago come in the front door looking, in
a quiet way, like he might want to hurt somebody. He walked over to my booth
and slid in. Charlie came over, Sago ordered a shot of VO and a Heineken and we
didn't talk.

Time passed and I was
thinking about a lot of things, but in between all the things, up popped
Gillian always Gillian.

After saying nothing
for a good time, reality still there like the bitch that it is, I said, “You
think it's better to die young?”

Sago said, “One thing
we know for sure, Kemosabe, you don't have to worry about it.”

“I love you Sago.”

“I love you too.”

“What time is it?”

“Who gives a shit.”
Sago looked at me, his eyes focused slowly. “You believe there's a God?”

“You?”

“What about Lucifer?”

“Talk to him daily.”

“That settles it.”
Sago sipped beer. “You see a porch light on in the daytime … it's different.”

“What's that mean?”

“Jay's porch light was
on.”

I lit a cigarette and
swallowed the smoke and hated hate and hated myself for being part of the hate.

“Judy said they were
planning to get married.”

“Well, now they're
not.”

Sago drained the last
of his beer.

I yelled at Charley
who was yakking with some gentlemen at the bar. “Hey Charley!”

Charley waved me off.

Sago lit one of my
Salems and dragged it.

“I didn't know you
smoked?”

Sago said, “Tell me
everything happens for a reason.”

“Everything happens
for a reason.”

“You believe that?”

“It's your line.”

“I believe it.”

“Why are we here?”

“Did you ask to be
here?”

“Blah blah blah,” I
looked at Charley. “Hey Charley, I'm gonna take my patronage elsewhere!”

Approaching, Charley
said. “Now what's the problem over here.”

“Charley. The service
in this place stinks. I wanna talk to the management.”

“Hurry up, I'm telling
a story.” Charley said.

“Tell us.”

“Some other time,
gotta start from the beginning.”

“Don't we all? Give us
another round. Another round times two, give those knights at the bar a round
too. Merry-go-round. Give 'em two.”

Charley shook his head
and left.

I felt Salem's embers
close to my fingers.

Sago slid out of the
booth. “I'm going to The Berry, run up a tab, walk out, break some windows.”

“You have a drink
coming.”

“I'm going.”

“Take a cab.”

“You take a cab.” Sago
looked down at me. “Jay left a note.”

“Good, super, the
proper thing to do, gotta leave a note, people expect a note, society demands a
note.”

“Judy has it … drive
careful.”

PART FIVE

CHAPTER 1

A week later

Jack’s
Time

Saturday morning, a
string of dead days planted in the bone yard, after a Denny's breakfast, I went
in to my office, made a pot of coffee, pushed back and conjugated—like a
sailing ship stuck in some ocean's doldrums, anticipating a puff of wind or a
dove with a little bit of leaf stuck in its beak, to send said ship sailing
home, summer had become a slow neurotic waiting. Then there were yesterdays
that seemed like prehistoric events distorted through the prism of real time.
For instance there was the yesterday when Judy (she resigned) returned to TV12
to clean out her desk. She came to my office. She had made a copy of Jay's
note, a poem actually, he had written, said she thought I might want to keep
it, she was sure Jay would want me to read it. I took it out of my top drawer
and reread it:

Touch the creation outstretched index,

Grasp the brush prehensile thumb,

Dead pigment of the marauding years.

Sweating plaster of a Sistine Chapel.

Reaching out,

Creation of Man,

Michelangelo or God?

(Today I'll know)

I remember thinking,
maybe,
maybe not.
And still do.

* * *

Otherwise, around
TV12, it seemed yesterdays, todays, and tomorrows were all thrown together in a
distilled expectation of uncertainty. Routine events erupted in spots of
turmoil like an ancient volcano awakened to a former life. My staff, over
mistakes that, before, would not have been tolerated, laughed. Minor details,
like a missing coffee cup, ended in a broken nose. Peggy arrived at the station
pretty much stoned and only seconds before airtime. The taping of her hour
prime time show was like watching turtles mate.

Capping everything,
like cockroaches in a summer sewer, rumors about The Berry Inn’s cash flow
problems, food vendors shutting off deliveries, whispers of bankruptcy filings,
were talked about openly. Add to that the selling of TV12 to S&W and
Broadcast House was a zoo.

I looked up, Sago
entered my office. I said, “It's Saturday, what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing
here?”

“I know.”

He had another Greta
video of Berry. Assuming it was of Berry and Peggy, I told him, like all porn,
once you've seen one you can figure out the plot, and, since I didn't have the
stomach for more plots, to just tell me what was on it.

Sago assured me this
was a different kind of porn.

I said, “Are you sure
you just can't tell me?”

Sago, flash drive in
hand, said, “You gotta see this.”

“Okay.”

Sago popped the drive
in my TV, pressed on, took a seat, the video played, and we watched and
listened.

Berry: (Sits at his
office desk, coat off, white shirt, tie loosened, a cocktail glass in one hand)

Bobbi: (Enters and
sits in the chair beside Berry's desk)

Berry: We got a
problem.

Bobbi: What's that?

Berry: Peggy …
S&W execs insist she has to go.

Bobbi: (Pauses)
Definitely a problem.

Berry: Spill her guts
all over town, Snakebite deal, newspapers, everything.

Bobbi: Can't let that
happen.

Berry: One way or
another, it won't happen (Pauses). But I think I can convince S&W to keep
her on, all we need is a little time.

Bobbi: (Raises an
eyebrow) S&W people still coming in Monday?

Berry: Bright and
early (Wipes neck with a towel, leans back in chair). Lead down the garden
path, Bobbi, Carr screwed Peggy up good, Galbo too, harassing Luther. Both
genius morons (Shakes his head). How's business?

Bobbi: Easter Sunday
whore house slow.

Berry: That's that
damn Galbo, wearing too many hats … how's The Berry looking?

Bobbi: Negative cash
flow, around $25,000 a week.

Berry: That can't be.

Bobbi: I think so.

Berry: I need a
vacation. Soon as S&W guys leave.

Bobbi: I think so.
Take your wife, go someplace different, out of town for a couple weeks.

Berry: Yeah (Folds
arms). S&W is hedging on my five year contract, want a year to year… they
can pound salt. I'm gonna insist on five years. You'll be safe too, get The
Berry Inn cranking, make a run for Governor … that last's just between you and
me.

Bobbi: My lips are
sealed.

Berry (Taps fingers
on desk top): Peel the onion one layer at a time … after the S&W sale, how
much you figure we'll clear?

Bobbi: Not much.

Berry: Why’s that?

Bobbi: The Berry,
still owe the architects, contractors, loans.

Berry: We'll get that
fixed, Bobbi, I have a feeling Lady Luck is on the way, soon as I get back from
vacation.

The video ran out and I looked at Sago. “Amazing world we live in,
Sago.”

“And video makes it all so real.”

“One day, someday, we're going to have to do this again, until we get it
right.”

“Somebody said that.”

“Wanta’ go get a drink?”

“No, I have to meet Whitney.”

“Be that way.”

CHAPTER 2

Real Time

Monday, June 10

9:10:00 A.M. CDT

Berry met the
executives from S&W Broadcasting—two men and one woman—at the airport. The
S&W men wore wire-rimmed glasses, gray suits, white shirts, shades of
yellow ties, and black shoestring shoes. The woman wore similar wire-rimmed
glasses, a blue suit, white shirt, gray tie, and black pumps.

Arrived at TV12, Berry
and the executives, seated around Berry's coffee table; a discussion occurred:
when the FCC gave final approval of S&W's purchase, appeared to be sometime
in August, Berry would stay on but with no contract. No further discussion
about it. Also, Peggy Moore definitely had to go. Berry offered that they
should give her through the November ratings. The executives said no, she had
to go. It would look better for Berry if she went immediately rather than
later.

They chatted and Berry
invited them to The Berry for lunch.

* * *

Late that afternoon, the S&W executives deposited at the airport, at
his office desk, Berry called Big Joe to his office.

He explained that he was leaving for a two-week European vacation. He
told Joe, Peggy had to go; he would not be in beginning tomorrow, tell her
then. He told him to have Jack rotate other weather people. When he got back
they would find out what S&W wanted to do for Peggy's permanent
replacement. Berry added that he had never signed her to a non-compete
contract, so don't worry. Joe said he wasn't worried.