When a young man falls (4)
Let’s consider, for a second, where an ambitious young man begins to slip and subsequently falls: T.A. Giles. As a grown-up, lavished with praised and beset with expectations, instead of following in Dad’s footsteps, makes off to New York, full of ideas about liberty and self-fulfillment. There was a girl. There’s always a girl. Natalie, an idealistic college girl, who dreamt a different dream, or so she thought: leaving America, “finding herself,” and feeling alive. Instead, she found herself as an overworked mother-of-one without Giles, who, though trying to be a responsible father, was absent and insubstantial. An unplanned daughter: Natalie. She was coming into her teen years, now, when boys are looking different and status begins to matter; when you’re old enough to know that your parents aren’t in a normal relationship but you’re too young to accept that things might never be okay. An old friend, Frank, who saw you through some tough times in your twenties but gave up through his own tough times and left you to take care of his own “son,” Danny, who you weren’t really looking out for anyway. Danny Boyd, coming into his twenties, sought direction and validation that you could never give him because you couldn’t even figure it out for yourself. Instead, there was Greg. Greg had a long way to go in any competitions of virtue. On this day he was wearing a turtle neck and a pair of charcoal slacks with his hair neatly parted to one side. Danny, same pants but a different turtle-neck, was also suited with a new hair cut. He was a bit more nervous, though, as if he suspected that he was going to be asked to do something that he had never done. He was right, of course: a boss doesn’t tell his pet to come groomed without a reason. And the reason, as Greg put it, was something like this: “Alright, Danny. You’ve been with us long enough to know how this works. We’ve got some … things … that need looked after and you’re going to be the guy to do it.” “A – a – a kidnapping?” Danny sputtered, then bit his lip. “Nah you fuckin’ idiot.” Greg looked at their pals. “Who brought this kid?” One of them perked up, “You brought him, boss.” “It was a rhetorical question, you fuckin’ retard. Of course I brought him. Musta been a lapse in judgment, eh Danny-boy?” Greg put a firm hand on Danny’s shoulder. Danny winced. “Just kidding, you’re a good kid and a good earner. You’ve earned this chance. “What chance?” A smile crossed his face and the rest of his crew joined him. Danny didn’t look so pleased. -- It was 1:30 in the afternoon, on a Tuesday, when Giles was called to the office. It had been a while since he and Natalie had spoken, but they were together, now, in the principal’s office at Jessica’s middle school. The principal wasn’t there, yet … … So they had some quality time to themselves. “It’s been a while, Travis.” Natalie broke the ice, as usual, and Giles, as usual, looked surly and indifferent. “It has, hasn’t it?” “What have you been up to?” Natalie eyed him suspiciously. Giles thought about it for a second. What had he been up to? He had been absent from Fresh! after his loss to William Gwynn. The possibilities, though, were far more intriguing than the reality: he had been at home, inactive in both mind and body. It had been a taxing summer. “I’ve been … around.” This was the best he could think of. Giles shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I see. Why haven’t you been around to see Jessica … or me, even?” Natalie probed, hoping to stir some compassion in her old lover. Giles didn’t have a response. An awkward silence presided over them for at least a couple of minutes. “Y’know, she’s your daughter too, Travis.” Giles shifted again. He didn’t have a comeback. Cold reality has a way of doing that. -- “Your daughter has been acting strangely, lately. This is only one incident, but I’ve had my suspicions over the past couple of months that there’s something different about her.” The attractive principal of Jessica’s middle school, Mrs. Cuthbert (M.Ed), was now in the office. “What do you mean, different?” Giles hastily shot back. Natalie looked at him again. Mrs. Cuthbert put up her palms innocently. “She’s been acting unlike her normal self.” Natalie piped in, “With all due respect, I don’t think it’s your place to be judging what is and isn’t normal with our daughter.” Using “our” was a bit generous to the man sitting next to her, but Natalie felt confident that she made her point. Unfortunately, the confidence was hardly earned; though unvoiced, it was obvious that both parents were in denial of their daughter’s recent change in attitude, a change that hadn’t gone unnoticed at the school. The principal remained calm. “Fair enough. However, what is my business is her conduct within the school. I am a tolerable person, but I cannot have students missing class and causing trouble with the other girls.” “Excuse me?” This was the first time Giles had heard of it, so naturally, he was upset. Natalie looked away from him. He looked at her; his eyes demanded an explanation. Mrs. Cuthbert could sense the tension as she looked from one parent to another. She got up and opened the door to her office. “I hope that you two can communicate with your daughter so we don’t have to do this again, but for now, I wish you both a good afternoon.” -- To put it simply, it was blackmail, and Danny was either on the wrong end or the right end, depending on his choice of moral compass. There was never much light or fresh air in pubs like these. It could be a quaint place, Danny thought, but instead it was home to shady people and even shadier deals like the one he was about to make. On the table in front of him, next to a pint of lager, was a brown envelope with some pictures in it. He suspected that they had some value to whoever he was meeting. The cold steel of guns still didn’t feel right against the small of his back. George Baker, an executive for an engineering conglomerate in New York, had a spotless public image and a lot to lose by coming into a pub like the one he just entered. He had more to lose if the pictures in Danny’s possession leaked, however, so, accompanied by two burly bodyguards, Baker sat down across from Danny and set a briefcase on the table. Danny shifted nervously. “What, you haven’t done this before?” Baker shot at him. “You look like the kind of punk kid that would have.” Danny smiled and looked for something to say. “Are you going to get a beer?” Baker raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like I came here for a fuckin’ drink?” Danny shook his head. “Alright, then. Let’s get this over with.” Danny pushed the envelope toward Baker. Baker opened it up carefully and dumped the pictures out. He nodded and smiled with satisfaction. “Thanks, kid. You’ve done well.” He grabbed the briefcase from the table. “Nothing personal, but …” He waved to the other side of the bar. Before Danny could swivel his head two men had rushed toward him. The hard end of a bat feels worse when you know you’ve screwed up. Or been screwed. -- “Where is she?” When Natalie and Giles got back to her place, Jessica wasn’t there. Giles marched around the house, opening and closing doors; she was nowhere to be found. Knowing this, Natalie stood there quietly, biting her fingernails. “She’s not here, Travis.” “Why? Where?” “She went to Taylor’s cabin for a week.” “What?! Why would you let her do that?” Natalie lost it. “I don’t know – so I could have a break?! It’s not like I’ve had all the support in the world from her so-called Dad.” Fueled by an anger that he didn’t think that he had, Giles almost went after her, but instead he kept pacing, then sat down and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Nat.” Natalie sighed. “I didn’t mean to say that … I’m sorry, too.” She sat down next to him and rubbed a hand against his shoulder. Giles looked at her and said, “We can’t keep doing this to each other.” Natalie nodded. “I know.” And then, a warm embrace turned into a long kiss, as if everything was okay. -- For Danny, it wasn’t. Arrested by cops who were corresponding with George Baker, Danny was being kept in a holding cell. He only got to make one phone call. In a rare moment of clarity, he made a choice to call someone he thought he could rely on. Not Greg, not Brett. Giles. But there was no answer on the other end. -- Back at Natalie’s house, Giles’s phone was ringing and the rekindled lovers couldn’t even be bothered to see who was calling.
Greg lit a cigarette and took a long drag, then blew out a cloud. “Let’s put it this way: you’re going to help us make a withdrawal from some public funds.”
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