By the time the hug was over and Sally got her emotions back under control – which was not a short time – John was starting to think about getting his own act together and getting back down to the office. He’d had plans to get a lot of work done while things were quiet today, and he had barely managed to get the computer booted up, let alone do anything with it, and now the afternoon was pretty well shot in the ass too.

He was all set to head down to the office anyway, but it took both Sally and Mandy to talk him into hanging around for dinner. His work had waited this long, they both said; it could wait another hour or so.

It turned out to not be a big and elaborate dinner, just spaghetti with a topping made of browned hamburger and sauce from a jar, but it tasted good. Carlos joined them, so that made five gathered around the table, the largest crowd to have been there in a very long time, since Lisa had some of her friends over one evening years before. He could recall that he hadn’t particularly liked any of them, but this gathering was one made up of his friends – even Carlos, and he’d only met the kid for the first time that afternoon although he’d said he’d also been at Annamaria’s Christmas party. Having a dinner with friends made it seem a little strange, but no less enjoyable.

What had made it even more enjoyable was that there hadn’t been any surprise hassles or trouble come out of the woodwork since the business with the tow truck driver that morning, which made it something of a record for the last few days. Maybe things were going to go smoother for a while, he thought.

The dinner was so enjoyable they just sat around the table for a while, until John said, “Well, if I were to go out to the office I could still get a little work done today. If I can get a good evening in and a reasonable day tomorrow, I might not be too far behind when I go in on Monday.”

“It’d be nice if you could stay around,” Mandy said, “but I know you. Business has to come first.”

“I have to keep after it,” John told her. “It’s the only way I can keep it going. Carlos, you live over near Annamaria somewhere, don’t you?”

“A few blocks away.”

“Well, it’s not that far out of my way to run you home. I can drop you off.”

“I sort of hate to have to go,” he shrugged. “Teresa and I have been having a real good time.”

“I can see you have, and I appreciate you taking the time for her, but she’s still shaking off the effects of her accident and I can see she’s getting tired, so maybe you’d better wrap it up for today.”

“Yeah,” Teresa yawned. “Carlos, it’s been a lot of fun, but I’m starting to get pretty tired, too. I’m sure glad you could hang around some today.”

“I can ride my bike over tomorrow and maybe we can mess around some more,” he offered.

“Sure, I’d love to.”

“Fine if you want to,” John smiled. “I’d say to not make it too early, though.”

A few minutes later John and Carlos were out in the car heading toward his home. “Carlos,” John said, “I just want to thank you again. Teresa is a good kid, but she’s missed out on a lot in her life. One of the things she’s missed out on is having friends, and I’m glad you’re being one to her.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he replied. “She seems to be a nice kid and I had fun hanging around her today. I’ve seen several kids get really down in the dumps when something like that happens to them.”

“She was heading that way, but you seemed to head her off. Look, do you do that kind of thing for homebound kids very often?”

“Not real often. She’s only like the third. Mostly I just throw stuff together for kids whose families can’t afford a computer. I’ve probably built a couple dozen of those.”

“She and her mother can’t afford one either,” John said. “They’ve been going through some tough times, and they’re just staying with me till they can get back on their feet. Look, Carlos, what I’m trying to say is that sooner or later you’re going to run across another homebound kid like her who could get a little brightness out of their lives with a computer. If you don’t have the money to put one together for them, get with Annamaria and tell her to get hold of me. I can’t do it real often, but I’ll help out where I can.”

“Sure, that would help a lot,” he said. “Sometimes it’s hard to pull together enough parts that will work. I probably built a little better computer for her than I do most times since I had some money to work with.”

“You be sure and thank your aunt for fronting you the money. I’ll thank her, too. Carlos, that’s a real nice thing you’re doing.”

“Oh, I like to do it and at least I know enough to be able to do it most of the time. Maybe I can go to college and do something with it.”

“Keep thinking that way,” John told him, knowing that when the time came for him to be thinking about college, there might be something he could do to grease the skids, although he wasn’t going to tell him that just yet. “There aren’t enough good people in this world who will help someone out when the chance comes along just for the sake of helping. Also, Carlos, you and I need to get together and talk computers sometime, but I can’t do it right now. We’ll just have to make time for it when things settle down a little, though.”

“Sure, I’d be glad to help. I’m guessing you want to do something about that junker you call a computer at your office?”

“Yeah, but like I said, my plate is pretty full right now. Maybe in a few days. Tell your aunt I said so. She won’t let me forget.”

After John dropped Carlos off at his home he headed for the office, thinking about things in general. He hadn’t had anything to do with kids of the ages of Carlos and Teresa since he was about that age himself, but it was darn good to know there were still some kids coming up with a heart and a desire to do something to help others. In a world that seemed all too full of turdballs like at that tow truck company and that doofus hospital administrator, it was all too rare.

It was just starting to get dark as he drove across town; it was several miles from where Carlos lived to the office, and John sat back and relaxed a little. Maybe now he could get some of the work done at the office that had been hanging over his head all week, like that stupid Tomtucknee Regional bid; that had lain around long enough and the deadline was getting close. After a rough start the day had gone pretty well; maybe all this damn tail chasing was over with for a while. If he could get caught up at the office a little tonight, the most urgent stuff, anyway, maybe he could make some progress on sorting out what he was going to do about the women tomorrow. At least he had some idea of what to do about the Tomtucknee Regional bid, which was more than he could say about the women.

Traffic was pretty light, although John was in a part of town he didn’t know well. It was clear he was going to have to make a left at the first good road to get over nearer to the office. So he drove along until he found a likely prospect, then turned on his blinker, pulled into the left turn lane and waited for the light with his foot on the brake. As he waited, his mind was somehow switching back and forth between the Tomtucknee Regional bid and the satisfaction he felt about doing a good deed for Teresa. Bringing Carlos into the deal had been a stroke of luck . . . WHAM!

He was kicked hard in the back. As the car lurched forward he was pressed back into the seat in total surprise. What the hell?

It took him a moment to realize that someone had hit the car in the back. Shit, he thought as the situation came together. This is all I fucking need today!

Quickly he pulled himself together. He’d been hit from behind, and he knew that was a recipe for a whiplash injury, but as it turned out he’d had his head against the headrest, so he didn’t think it was too likely, and he wasn’t feeling any pain from his neck. However, injuries like that often don’t show up quickly, but for the moment he thought he was all right. He peeled off his seat belt and got out of the car, to see an older car crushed into the trunk. The driver was pounding on the horn, apparently expecting him to get out of the way.

Being an EMT, he was less concerned about his car than he was about the occupants of the older vehicle. He headed right back to the driver’s side door, to see that it was driven by an elderly lady, who had her window rolled up, and who was still pounding on the horn. “Are you all right?” he yelled.

The lady gave no response; she just kept pounding on the horn as if waiting for him to get out of the way, and just about oblivious to his standing there. Some little something told him that this was going to be more trouble . . . “Are you all right?” he yelled again.

Once again there was no response from the elderly driver. Oh, shit, John thought, pulling out his cell phone and starting to punch in 9-1-1. Another one of the downsides of living in this town – elderly drivers out of touch with reality, who should have quit driving years before.

“Sarasota 9-1-1, how can I help you?” a woman’s voice on the other end of the line said. He was barely able to make out the words over the sound of the horn.

“I’m at the corner of University Boulevard and US-41,” he replied. “I just got rear-ended. I think I’m all right, but I’m not sure about the other driver.”

“Have you asked?”

“I’ve tried to,” John replied, “but she doesn’t seem aware that I’m standing here. She’s conscious, alert and breathing enough to be standing on her horn. I can’t tell if an ambulance is needed or not.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll have someone there right away.”

EMT that he was, John was concerned about the old lady, but there was some gut instinct that told him that this was not the time to get too pushy about it. The situation was different from being an ambulance crewman, and unless something overt came up, he decided he’d mind his own business and let the professionals on duty deal with it.

As he stood there, a quick glance at the back of his car made him realize the whole rear end was caved in, and that was going to be expensive. Thank goodness he had insurance. The front end of the other car – an older white Olds Cutlass Ciera, he realized now that he had a look at it, was in about as bad a shape. The front end was crushed in but apparently not with the radiator involved, at least from the sound of it – the car was still running, after all. He found himself half amazed that the driver didn’t back up and drive away, smashed lights or no smashed lights.

In only a couple minutes he could hear a siren coming up the street, and see the flash of lights from the light bar. In another half minute a Sarasota police car braked to a stop in front of them. “Everybody all right?” one of the two officers aboard yelled as he got out of the car.

“I am,” John said. “I don’t know about the woman driving this thing.”

“What happened?”

“I was waiting to make a left turn when she plowed into the rear end of my car.”

The officer walked up to the driver’s side of the Olds – the woman was still leaning on the horn – and knocked on the window, as John stood back and watched. “Ma’am,” the officer said. “Are you all right?”

“Can’t you make that man move his car?” the old woman said in a disgusted sounding voice that to John sounded like it reeked of New York or something. “I’ve got to get to my club meeting!”

John could see the frown come across the officer’s face; he apparently was thinking about the same thing John was. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“All right?” The woman hit the horn again, not any surprise to John. From his experience, people from that part of the country thought that the horn was the most important thing in the car. “Of course I’m all right, I just need him to get out of my way.”

Even in the fading light John could see the officer roll his eyes. “Ma’am,” he said. “Do you realize you’ve been in an accident?”

“Accident? What accident? Can’t you do something about him blocking traffic?”

“Oh, boy,” John heard the officer say as he shook his head; John was thinking pretty much the same thing. “Can I see your driver’s license, registration and proof of insurance, please.”

“Why should I?” she replied. “I haven’t done anything. I need to get to my club meeting!”

By then the other officer in the car had come over to John. “Want to make a side bet?” John asked the officer quietly.

“Why bet against a sure thing?” the younger officer smiled. “Are you all right?”

“I think so,” John told him. “She whacked me in the backside pretty hard, but my head was up against the headrest.”

“You don’t need an ambulance, then?”

“Not as far as I can tell.”

“Then, just to be on the safe side I suppose I’d better be seeing your driver’s license, registration and proof of insurance as well.”

John went and got them out of his car, and the young officer looked them over, called them in, and soon handed them back. “Looks good to me,” he said. “Your car looks like it’s drivable, but not with the taillights gone. You probably ought to get a tow. Should I call for one?”

“No, I’ll do it,” John replied, realizing that he still had the number for Fred’s Towing in his cell phone memory. In a couple minutes he had a tow truck on the way.

By now an ambulance had arrived, and the crew was looking the lady over; she was protesting every inch of the way about it, saying that she was all right and she had to get to her club meeting, whatever it was. Finally, the first officer asked, “Ma’am, where is your club meeting?”

“At Palumbo’s Restaurant in Hackensack,” she said. “And I’m late now.”

“You mean like Hackensack, New Jersey?”

“Why of course,” she replied indignantly. “Where do you think we are?”

“Sarasota, Florida,” the officer said. “New Jersey is a long way away.”

“It can’t be,” she replied, still indignant. “What would I be doing in Florida? I have to get to Palumbo’s.”

“Ma’am, where’s your home?”

“On Aycrigg Avenue in Passaic,” she said in a huff.

“Ma’am,” the officer sighed, “I think you’d better go with the ambulance so you can be checked over more thoroughly.”

“Why? There’s nothing wrong with me!”

It took a while to get her loaded in the ambulance, protesting all the way. “Oh, boy,” the first officer said to John as it departed. “Looks like an Alzheimer’s case to me.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” John replied professionally.

“She says her name is Ester Zuckerman, but no driver’s license, so I wouldn’t want to bet on it. The car is registered to a Charles Mayerling up in Bradenton, and I’m wondering if he even knows it’s gone. I guess that’s the next thing we get to find out, and that might give us a hint on where she actually belongs.”

“I’m going to need a copy of your report for the insurance company,” John told him. “I suppose it’s going to be Monday before I can get it.”

“Something like that, and probably not first thing. Sorry this had to happen.”

“Yeah, I didn’t need that, but I guess that’s one of the risks you take in living here in God’s Waiting Room.”

“No shit,” the officer said. “But I’ll tell you what, I’d rather be here than in some damn place in New Jersey.”

“I sometimes wonder,” John shrugged as he noticed a truck from Fred’s towing showing up. Thank God they showed up first rather than those crooks from Greenleaf! Another hassle with them would be all he’d need tonight. He soon had John’s car on the tow truck.

A truck from Greenleaf Towing showed up shortly afterward, and at least it didn’t have the same cretin driving it that had caused John so much trouble in the past few days. Maybe he was in jail, or at least that was what John was hoping. However, this driver was cut from the same cloth: “Hey!” he yelled to the Fred’s Towing driver. “I’m supposed to be towing that car!”

“No you’re not,” the Fred’s driver – again not the same one from the morning – told him. “We were requested specifically by the customer.”

“That ain’t what my boss said,” the guy replied in a huff. “I’m supposed to be towing a Toyota to the impound lot.”

“Give it a rest,” the older officer said. “You can take this Olds to the impound lot.”

“Yeah, but it ain’t the Toyota I’m supposed to be towing,” the guy snorted.

“You guys are not towing this car anywhere,” John told him. “You can put that in your pipe and smoke it.” He turned to the driver of the Fred’s truck and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

“Fine with me,” the driver said as the two of them got into the cab of the tow truck. “Where do you want to go?”

“Not the impound lot, that’s for damn sure,” John snorted. “They’re about as bad a crooks as those bastards from Greenleaf.”

“That’s a fact,” the driver said. “I sure feel sorry for whoever it is that owns that Olds.”

“Yeah, in several different ways,” John replied, glad that he wasn’t going to be going through that hassle again. If he was going to have to deal with them again – well, maybe borrowing that Czech machine pistol from Max might not be a bad idea. “I suppose I’d better not have you take it home, since if I left it there those bastards might show up and tow it off to the impound lot anyway.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” the tow truck driver agreed. “That’s quite a racket they have going.”

“I sure would like to know how they get away with it. I could tell you stories but I’ll bet you could tell me better ones.”

“Probably so,” the guy replied dryly. “So where should we take it?”

“Saturday night, so no body shops open,” John shrugged. “And I’ve got a bunch of demo units and literature in the trunk. I suppose we’d better take it to my office, and I can drive the company van home tonight. I’ll probably call and have you take it to a body shop the first of the week.” He gave the driver the address, and they got going, as the Greenleaf driver stood at the side of the street looking at them angrily.

It was about a mile to the office, and John was not a happy camper just then. Now both the Toyota and the Jag were out of action, not that the Jag could be considered to actually be in action at any time. At least he had the Suncoast van to fall back on.

By now it was dark enough to see that the lights were on at the office. Could he have forgotten to turn them off when he left that morning? If so, that was a stupid thing to do. However, as the tow truck pulled around in back of the office he saw Warren’s car sitting there. That made sense; Warren was probably still avoiding going home.

John got out of the truck and headed inside to open the garage door. “You here, Warren?” he called.

“Yeah, just wrapping up a little,” he heard the reply. “I’m going to hit the road in the morning. It’s a hell of a long drive back to Mississippi, but with any kind of luck I shouldn’t have to come back for a month or six weeks. That’s almost too soon.”

“Still not exactly sweetness and light at home, huh?”

“Not hardly,” he said. “At least I got a trunk load more stuff to take back with me.”

“What do you do with that stuff, anyway?”

“I’ve got an apartment in Montgomery I’m filling up with what I want from the house. Beats staying in a motel every night. I still have to motel it pretty often, but at least I have a place I can take my shoes off and let my socks stink up the place. Hey, I noticed your Jag out back. What’s up with that?”

“Long story, but the gist of it is that Mandy showed up last night and needed a place to stay. She had her car full of stuff, and I didn’t want those tow truck fuckers to get the idea it was Sally’s, so I needed the space in the garage. Then the goddamn thing crapped out on me on the way over here so I had another round with those tow truck bastards. Then to top it off, an hour ago my car got smacked in the rear by some uncommitted Alzheimer’s patient, so I had a tow truck drop it off here, too.”

“Cripe, it sounds like you can’t win these days.”

“No shit,” John agreed. “Let me go get the van out so this guy can get the car inside.”

It took a few minutes to get the vehicles shuffled around, and the paperwork dealt with for the tow. “Thanks for the tow,” John told the driver. “Watch out for those Greenleaf bastards.”

“I try to,” the guy said. “It ain’t easy, but I try.”

With the Toyota inside, John got started trying to get its trunk open. As smashed as it was, it wasn’t easy, and finally involved the tire iron from the van. He started unloading the stuff from the trunk and carrying it into the office. The demo units were worth several thousand dollars, and there was no point in leaving the stuff in the car while it was in a body shop. Probably not much could be done until the insurance company got done dragging their feet about it. Another hassle to have to be dealt with the first of the week, not that his list wasn’t long enough already.

Warren came out to help him. “Jeez, I can’t believe it,” he said. “Now you have a house full of women, right? I’ll bet that has to be fun.”

“It’s had its moments,” John shrugged. “Actually it’s worked out pretty good so far, but I can see it’s a bomb waiting to go off if I don’t watch my step.”

“Better you than me,” Warren shook his head. “At least you’re not married to any of them. Yet, anyway.”

“Not planning on it, that’s for sure. Hey, as soon as we get done I’m going to try and get some work done tonight since I couldn’t get shit done during the day today.”

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.