A SMOKING CANDLE
PART 9
CHAPTER 1

Marissa entered Gary's room and sat next to the bed. "Gary, I'm here." Her friend had not been sleeping. He kept his eyes closed as he had most of the morning to prevent having to answer questions or even to be friendly. The nurses came and went, taking their numbers, some addressing him by name. With his mind in this turmoil it was better to think without any interruption.

All he could think about in his waking hours was his friend, Chuck. If only he had not left him there at the mercy of that madman. If only he had subdued Stan and taken the keys to the locks, Chuck might still be alive..and if he couldn't have succeeded, at least he'd not be left behind to be haunted by the guilt. He felt like death himself, deep down within, so much so that he involuntarily released a sob from the depths of his soul.

His dear friend, his confidante, Marissa was here. How rude to ignore her. But he kept his silence even as he opened his eyes to observe how concerned she looked as she patiently sat at his bedside. "Gary?" She reached over to find his arm, shaking it slightly. There was no evading her; she knew.

"Hey, Marissa," he responded as if out of breath, and in a whisper.

His voice held no life-and that worried her too. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged, but realized that a shrug was not going to do much to communicate to his sight-impaired friend. "I'm okay, Marissa, I'm..fine."

"Why don't I believe that you're fine? If you were to fall down a well and someone asked how you were, you'd say you're fine. Well, maybe physically you feel fine, I doubt it, but how about the rest?"

Irritated with her persistence, he answered, "What 'rest'? I'm fine!"

"Okay, Gary," she surrendered, "If you don't mind I'll just sit here for a while. If you have anything you want to say..I'll be here."

At that moment Marion 'Zeke' Crumb entered and stood next to Marissa, his hand resting on her shoulder. It was too late to pretend that he was sleeping so Gary nodded to him, greeting him with, "Hi, Crumb. Thanks for coming."

"We was just in the neighborhood and thought you might like some company. So how're ya doin'" Without waiting for an answer, he added, "You took some rough handling, I hear."

"Yeah, I guess," was Gary's emotionless comment.

Trying to make friendly talk and draw the reluctant host out, Crumb went on, "Did ya get the pleasure of givin' your report to Armstrong and Brigatti yet?"

"I faintly remember them being here once, but I don't recall what we talked about." He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead, attempting to erase a threatening headache.

Marissa sat upright and looked curiously at Crumb. She had heard about the visit with the two detectives and about his sudden urgency to escape both the bed and the hospital.

"Whaddaya mean? You don't remember their being here? They've practically lived down here lately." Zeke Crumb was indignant with the idea that the Bonnie and Clyde of the CPD hadn't been noticed by their favorite target for questions. "Every time I try to catch them at the station, I'm told they're in Danville, one or the other, sometimes both. They must have been here. What else would they be doin' so far from their homes?"

The comment struck Gary as strange. "They may have been here more than once...I guess. I just figured she, I mean, they were too busy...too far away."

His tone told Marissa that this might have been at least some of the reason for his morose attitude.

Gary turned his head away from the two, suddenly overcome with the pain of remembrance.

"What's wrong, kid? You need a nurse?"

"I don't need anything. Nothing."

The door opened and a slim woman only slightly younger than Gary approached the bed. "Hi, I'm Doctor Ames." As Crumb and Marissa made an attempt to get out of her way and leave, she stopped them, "You don't have to leave if you don't want. I'm just going to give our patient here a once-over before we release him."

At that, Crumb took Marissa's arm and they stood back from the bed to allow the doctor to access her patient easier. Her words indicating that he could be released perked him up enough to brighten his face.

She checked the patient folder as she inspected his facial cuts and bruises, then, before she went on to other areas, she addressed the visitors, "You might want to give him some privacy while I check the other injuries."

Crumb smiled a little at this, thinking about how many people, injured far more seriously, he had witnessed being examined. "Doc, how 'bout we just turn around? My friend here, is not going to embarrass him and I ain't no voyager..or whatever the hell it's called."

"It's voyeur, and, if it's all right with Mr. Hobson, I'll go on with it."

She took Gary's silence as an approval as she pulled his hospital gown aside to inspect his shoulder wound. "Mmmhmm, this looks fine. And, even though the ribs may hurt a bit, they're not broken. Your worst problem," Gary grunted and groaned as she pushed and poked around his middle, then his lower back, "seems to be the beating that your internal organs took. They' re going to be the source of your discomfort for, probably, another week, at least." She covered him up again and removed the plastic gloves that she had worn, tossing them in the special disposal unit.

"Mr. Hobson, your HMO seems to think that you've recovered enough to go home. It's reasonable to me..IF you take it easy for another week. 'Take it easy' seems to be the least understood order I can give to my patients. They take that to mean 'go to work, but don't work fast.'" Disappointed that he didn't find the humor in her comments, she went on, "To be specific, so you won't have to wonder, it means, go home, go to bed, except for meals and the bathroom-period! No exercise.."

As she was speaking, the door opened again and Chuck entered, taking a stance at the foot of the bed. An innocent expression on his face, he listened as the doctor gave her instructions to Gary.

The next thing Gary became aware of was the doctor calling his name, "Mr. Hobson! Mr. Hobson, are you okay?" She lowered the head of the bed and placed a moistened paper towel on his neck. When Crumb had seen the color drain from Gary's face upon Fishman's arrival, he moved closer to the bed-as alarmed as the doctor.

The cold of the towel seemed to do the trick as he opened his eyes. After a brief moment of disorientation, his attention was drawn to Chuck Fishman standing at the foot of the bed. He brushed the doctor's administering hands away in order to stare at his friend. "Chuck!" He fumbled to raise the head of the bed again while the doctor was working at keeping the bed flat. "Chuck! I thought you were d.. How did you..? I'm not, I'm not hallucinating, am I? You're really here!" Lowering his voice, he stammered, "I..I..I thought Stan had, had..killed..you!" The doctor put a refreshed cool towel on her patient's neck, thinking he was going to faint again.

Chuck came closer to his friend, "Gee, Gary, you're the first person who ever fainted upon my entering the room. I think I should feel insulted."

"I'm sorry, Chuck. I never thought that I'd, that I'd ever see you again. All this while, I thought, I thought that Stan.. Oh, never mind." He gave up trying to describe his feelings, settling for "It's great to see you!"

The doctor stepped into his line of vision again, asking, "Mr. Hobson, when your friend came in, your face turned all shades of white just as I was telling you the conditions of release. Will you be okay for me to finish the instructions?"

Not able to take his eyes off of his friend, he told her to go ahead."As I was saying, you need to take some time to allow your body to recuperate. No exercise."

Chuck couldn't help the skeptical grin on his face as he listened.

"..no sex.."

Chuck smothered his reaction to this hilarious-to him-admonishment, allowing only a comic smirk to betray his amusement.

Dr. Ames went on, "no stairs.." Eyebrows rose on the faces of the three listeners. "..and no driving. That's for one week. You can do that, I'm sure." Without really paying attention to anything except the fact that he was about to be released, Gary nodded in agreement. Well, the release was important, but it was even more important that Chuck had shown up-alive.Chuck could no longer stand by, keeping his mouth shut, "Well, Doc, I'm sure that at least one of those things is doable for our hermit-friend, here."

He wanted to break out in laughter, but thought better of it and kept his reaction down to a deep chuckle.

As a half-hearted explanation for the rudeness of his friend, Gary offered, "Sorry, Doc, my friend, here, thinks that he's a comedian. Thanks for everything; I'll be sure to be careful. When can I leave?" Onlookers wondered if their friend had his fingers crossed when he agreed to such an unrealistic list of things. For anyone else, it would have been believable, but, well, Gary Hobson? Not likely.

After the doctor left, Zeke Crumb noticed the expression on the battered face. "What's wrong, Hobson? Don't tell me you wanted to stay here."

Ignoring his question, Gary was back at quizzing Chuck about his miraculous escape. He stumbled through a string questions for the still-amused Fishman, ending with, "Chuck, are you okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be? You're the one who was almost beaten to death."

"But, whenever I asked, they wouldn't tell me, so, I thought, I thought, I..I'm really glad to see ya, buddy! Really glad!" His face was beaming for the first time in, probably, a week. "Okay, then, if the three of you' ll go out for a few minutes, I'll get dressed."

Crumb and Marissa obediently left for the waiting room, leaving Chuck behind, "You sure ya don't want me to help you?" He began searching the drawers and closet, coming up with some clothes. When he saw Gary's reluctance, he gave in, "Listen, Gary, just get dressed. Call me when you need help with your shoes."

CHAPTER 2

The trip back to Chicago was interrupted only once by Chuck's urgent need to stop for a cheeseburger. While they were waiting, Marissa answered her cell phone, which was a very one-sided conversation with her doing all the listening. A few 'yeses' were uttered and eventually a 'bye.'

By the time they pulled up to McGinty's, Gary was dozing, groaning now and then when an abrupt stop occurred or a pothole caused the car to bounce.

Marissa and Chuck exited the car for the tavern while Gary slept. Crumb resumed driving on with his passenger until they pulled up to a familiar building. He assisted a confused and exhausted Gary to the doorway where Brigatti's helping hand was extended to assist him.

"You gonna need any help, Brigatti? I could help you get him undressed and into bed."

Toni allowed the former CPD detective to help Gary remove all but his boxers and tee shirt. Their sleepy charge had grunted at the strain when the two aided him in removing the other shirt, slightly irritated by the indignity of two cops putting him to bed. Still, he managed to murmur a 'thank you' before falling asleep in Toni's bed.

"Ya want I should stay the night in case.." Crumb didn't finish the thought after he saw her shake her head.

"I'll be fine," she assured him, "He'll sleep. If he has a problem, I'll hear him. Don't worry, Crumb. Gee, you're like an old woman."

"What if he..you know."

Toni's patience was fast disappearing, "Do you think I can't show him where the bathroom is?"

"Nah," Crumb assured her, "I don't mean that."

"Well, what?" Suddenly the full meaning hit her as Crumb glanced from the prone Gary and back to her, suggestively.

Zeke saw that she took his meaning. Amused at his protectiveness, she scolded, "Crumb! Pick your mind out of the gutter. Are you afraid for me-or for him?" Toni grabbed his arm, "Come on, 'Daddy,' I'll make you some coffee before you go. I'll be safe with him-and he'll be safe with me. Now stop worrying!"

They sat across from each other at the table, Crumb asking, "What happens tomorrow?"

"What are you getting at now?" she asked. "I'd swear you are more of a worrywart than my parents could ever be. I take it you're finished worrying about today and we're moving on to tomorrow? What about tomorrow? He'll wake up. He'll eat, he'll rest; he'll recuperate. End of story. Why?"

"I mean, young lady, what happens when, when the, the..."

"What? Come out with it." What was he alluding to, she wondered.

"Okay, if I have'ta say it, what happens about his paper?"

He couldn't have shocked her more if he had claimed to be a transvestite."What're you sayin', Crumb? What do you know about Gary's paper?" She could see from his expression that he did know. "How long have you known?"

"I'm an old cop. I knew somethin' was weird about his penchant for the Sun-Times. My suspicions were more or less confirmed not too long ago. By the way, how's come he didn't have it in the hospital? Danville too far for the kitty to go?"

There was nowhere for her to retreat since he even knew about the cat, so she charged ahead, disclosing all that she knew about it, ending with the fact that she had received it while Gary had been missing. It was the Sun-Times that allowed the police to move in on the prison farm and rescue both Gary and Chuck.

Gary had not yet asked how he and Fishman had been saved. Nor did he inquire as to Stan's fate. Toni hoped that she would not have to be the one to disclose why he may have heard the shots as they came to his rescue. Stan had raised his gun toward the first lawman that he saw and it was his last mistake.

"Okay Zeke, now you know as much as I do about the special newspaper that's kept me running this whole damn week. Actually, I kind of..like the results of helping people to make better choices. Doin' that is far more satisfying than just ordering a body bag or ambulance for them. That's what it really amounts to, ya know. Nothing really heroic, just busy."

He studied her face. If this was Toni Brigatti, he had never really seen her before. It was certain that he liked what he saw. There were no more points to make, no more questions in his mind. Gary Hobson had made a convert to his 'save the world' cause-and she was a willing one at that.

After Crumb left, Toni checked on her patient and heard his moan and the deep gasping breaths suggesting the existence of pain. She chose two tablets of the prescribed pain medications and a glass of water, coaxing him to down them. As he lay back waiting for the pain to abate, she sat on the bed next to him, soothing his brow.

Now what was she going to do about keeping an eye on him during the night? Intending to sit up on the chair next to the bed, she changed into her nightclothes. A light blanket would do, wrapped around her like a shawl.Somehow the lightly upholstered chair cooperated for her comfort and she didn't waken until she heard her friend stirring restlessly. In a voice wavering between fear and terror, Gary was talking, whispering really, at a fast pace, "He's comin', Chuck, be careful. He's comin'! Stan's comin'!"

Toni reached to his forehead for a fever check. Finding none, she tried to assure him, "No one's coming, Gary, you're safe. You're dreaming. Shhhh."He was out of breath with panic, "No, Stan's here! Be careful what you say, Chuck. He's comin' NOW."

Toni patted his chest, hoping to calm him down, using her other hand to gently cup his cheek, calling, "Gary! Gary! It's okay. You're safe..."

Interrupting her soothing words, he yelled, "NO! Stan's coming; he's.."

"Gary," she insisted, and without thinking, blurted out, "Stan's not coming. Stan's dead!"

Even in the gray light of dawn she could see his eyes spring open. The realization, the awful truth, sank in and was accepted by his subconscious.

"Stan's.." If he had been standing he might have been seen to crumble right then. After the initial wide-awake shock, the horror, the guilt, the revulsion set in. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping he could erase what she had just pronounced. Without his usual inhibited control, he cried out an angry, "NO!"

Sorry immediately for having so abruptly dropped this bombshell of reality on him in his disturbed state, she placed both hands on his face and apologized, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry to have said that so..so unfeelingly. Gary, please, please forgive me. I just hated to see you so agitated and all that; I..I..I'm sorry."

He heard her, but wasn't comprehending anything except that here, once again, was a death that he was, at least he felt he was, partially to blame for. He turned to his side, facing away from her and began to weep, freely and unashamedly, choking on the sobs. Toni rushed around to the other side of the bed, the direction that he was now facing, and laid herself down next to him, enfolding him in her arms, allowing him to bury his face in her neck to cry it out. His sobs waned, but she felt his tears continue, her neck bathed in their wetness.

____________

The morning sun drenched the room right on through the blinds. Gary had the strange feeling that something was restricting his movements. He was comfortable and warm. Really warm. Opening his eyes he found that he was cradled in the arms of..Toni Brigatti! Not wanting to disturb her, he took notice of his position. She had wrapped her arms around him. Sometime during the night they fell asleep cuddled that way, but, by morning-now!-he had somehow slipped farther down the pillow. That left his face somewhere south of her neck, making him afraid to move. 'She's gonna be furious. I know she's gonna be furious. How'd we even get in this position? Whatever the explanation is, she's gonna kill me!' He lay there weighing the problems of waking her. To move at this time would certainly have done that, thus incurring the wrath of this fiery Italian as soon as she discovered their proximities. Or, as he ultimately decided, he could pretend that he was asleep and wait for her to wake up.

Toni Brigatti was used to rising early, even before her alarm went off. She opened her eyes to the unusual position she felt herself in. Momentarily forgetting about the reason that she moved from her chair to the bed, she was startled to see-mostly feel-Hobson tightly against her, lying in her arms, his face at her..chest! At first she thought that her surprised awakening might have roused him as well; he seemed to still be sleeping, a disturbingly peaceful expression on his face. She cautiously inched herself down farther in the bed so he was facing her, not her left breast.

Gary stirred and uttered a "Mmmm," and found himself gazing into her expressively brown eyes. His voice was filled with the remnants of sleep as he whispered, almost sweetly, "Hey, Brigatti!"

As her face took on a deep blush, he added, "I really slept well. The bed is really comfortable and the pillows..the pillows are really..nice." The red in her cheeks deepened, right down to her neck, as she realized what pillows he was referencing.

When she made the motions of turning to get out of bed, he placed his hands at her waist, gently pulling her close. Not fighting against it, she cuddled back with him. He kissed her face as it rested against his, causing her to look questioningly at him. Using that moment to take in the depths of each other's eyes, their mouths met for a light and hesitating kiss.

Mutually deciding that that was not nearly enough, they dwelt in a longer, deeper kiss. Out of breath by now, Toni pulled away. "We can't do this. We can't allow this to happen."

"Why?"

His seeming innocence in questioning her brought out a smile, "Why? Well, I guess because you're hurt and this smacks too much in the order of 'taking advantage of an injured person.' Besides, I don't 'play house.' I didn't think you did either."

"I don't. And I would never force you to compromise your values. Toni, I have never been able to tell you how much.."

Before he could go on, Toni slipped out of his arms and rose, not wanting to hear the rest of his words for fear that she would end up doing exactly that which she just told him she didn't do. Grabbing her robe, she went off to the bathroom. "Breakfast is in half an hour. I gotta get ready for work."

When she gazed at herself in the bathroom vanity mirror, she couldn't help but say, 'What a fool you are, Antonia Lucia Brigatti!"

CHAPTER 3

Toni dawdled in showering, hoping that Gary would be up and ready for breakfast. She had no idea what he usually ate for the first meal of the day, but she made no fuss about her breakfast. Toast, coffee, and orange juice was the most bother she ever went to for such an early meal.

As they ate, not much was said. She thought, from his silence, that he had been hurt by her actions and inactions in the bedroom.

Before downing the last of his juice, he asked, "What do you have planned for today, Toni?"

Actually she had a thorough plan concocted and relayed it to him, beginning with her leaving for work. "I have to be at work for a meeting early this morning. Paul and I are on a case that requires us to do some legwork. That will likely keep us busy to mid-afternoon. Chuck will come by here with some lunch for you around noon-stay in bed! I should be done sometime between three and four today. If you feel like it, I have a steak in the freezer large enough for us to share tonight." She cleared the table. "I know how tempted you are to get back into your routine, but I warn you; the doctor said something akin to 'no nothing!' I expect you to be doing your 'nothing' flat on your back!"

"Yes, mom," he responded, sounding like a small child. Are you gonna bring me something special if I'm a good boy?"

If he had been attempting to annoy her, he had succeeded. "Ya know," she commented, "if I didn't have to worry about you disobeying the doctor and wrecking all the good the medics have done, I'd be able to feel more at ease about you being here today."

He smiled as he nodded, "I know, I know, Toni. I'll be good. Don't give it a thought."

His assuring her not to worry should have allowed her to relax about it all, but she had no faith that he even could follow a doctor's orders. After settling her patient back in bed and comfortable, she announced that she was leaving. At the last minute, when the door was already open, Gary called out, "Toni, did the paper come?"

"Yeah, it did, and I'm taking it with me. Get some rest!"

She was gone without acknowledging his cry to "Wai-wai-wai-wait!"

This feeling of not being allowed to direct his own life was not to Gary Hobson's liking and never had been.

When he was a child, his mother and father were in pre-emptive command. Gary was allowed to do anything he wanted-as long as it was what his parents wanted. In college he was in a position to choose-to work at his studies, or to work at a fast-food place. It didn't take much deciding, especially after he became more involved with Marcia. His thoughts and inner urgings in the social studies and services direction were re-directed by his future wife's ambitions. Instead of working with organizations seeking to make a better world through 'people' programs, he found himself studying puts and calls, commodity dealing, and initial stock offerings. The contrast between his dreams and reality could, even now, bring an ironic, yet humorless smile to his face.

Accepting the paper's directions was not an enthusiastic choice either.

Someone, once again, was directing him, in this case, something, other than himself. He tried rebelling, ignoring the mute commands, but he eventually learned that the choice had been finalized for him. It didn't matter that Lucius Snow told him it was all his choice. There was no way to be true to himself by allowing preventable catastrophes to occur.

God help him! Life in his corner had 'sunk' to having a cat directing him, dictating his very actions by giving him a visual preview of the alternatives. Sure, he was free to choose-as long as he chose to heed the headlines! Now even that was changed and Brigatti seemed to be directing his life. Not that she was unwanted in his corner, but she appeared to have shoved him out of the corner and taken over.

This morning, as he waited for the promised visit of Chuck, he had plenty of time to review how his life had progressed-or not!

Gary could easier deny his yearnings than deny the power of the paper in his life. 'One day, as the poet so eloquently said, just one day is all I ask, afore I'm dead.' The line had struck him when he read it in a literature class. It was echoing in his brain as he considered his position. This was what it boiled down to. He had asked, had begged for a release from the paper. One day would have been enough, he once thought.

He was freed from it for slightly more than two weeks now, except for once in the hospital. What did he feel about it? Relief? Contentment? Why couldn't he relax? If he had been given the gift through his injuries, why didn't he sense the freedom?

Gary went to the kitchen for a glass of juice. Television was a bore. The news was disturbing, making him wonder if the situations couldn't have been avoided had he been 'on the job.' Again checking the time, he found it was only ten o'clock. Two more hours to wait for Chuck.

He heard the mail arrive and went to bring it in, absentmindedly separating the ads from the rest. He took the advertisements with him, though, to the couch. Thus it went through the morning, restless and miserable all the while.

At last, at long last, he heard a key in the lock. Why was it that he felt like a cat waiting to be served? More likely, like a dog awaiting his master's return, he corrected himself.

The voice of Chuck was heard, facetiously calling out as he entered, "Honey, I'm home!"

"Very funny. Very funny. I'm out here," still disgusted with his plight; he called back to his friend.

"Hey, Gar, the lunch wagon has arrived." Chuck set his bag on the table,

"You get your choice, a cheeseburger and fries...or fries and a cheeseburger." He said it as though it were a culinary delight. Without commenting on his 'choice,' Gary reached into the bag and placed one of the burgers in front of him.

While they consumed the food, Chuck filled him in on all the McGinty's happenings, rumors and gossip.

Adopting a serious tone, Gary asked, "Who's taking care of the paper? I have to see it. Toni took.."

"Of course she took it. What would you do with it? I'm taking care of it."

His answer should have consoled Gary; so why didn't it? "You? You have the paper? Has she lost her mind?"

Before he could continue, Chuck spoke up, not sounding all that pleased, "I didn't say that I have the paper, I said I'm taking care of it. There's a difference." Upon saying this, he reached into his pocket and brought out a wad of neatly clipped rectangles of newsprint. She cut out my assignments and kept the rest. How's that for trust?"

Gary nodded his approval of her actions, asking his exasperated friend, "Didja finish with those?"

"Sure. Well, almost. I had to stop and bring the invalid some lunch, didn't I?"

At that disturbing disclosure, Gary grabbed the clippings and scanned through them. "Which ones didn't you tend to? I know some of these are for this afternoon, but did you get all the morning ones done? A couple of these headlines haven't changed."

Chuck hemmed and hawed a bit, then admitted that he was too late on the one where he should have prevented a barroom tussle that erupted into a brouhaha. And he had left out the one where a stop sign had been knocked over, causing a traffic jam and several fender-benders. "I figured that, since no one would've been seriously injured in those, that I would continue on to make sure my lunch assignment was fulfilled on time."

The haphazard way in which Chuck handled his life had once again spilled over into Gary's life. It was too late to do anything about the bar fight or the traffic problem, but two more news clippings remained for later in the afternoon. As he pointed one of them out to Chuck, he pocketed the other article. "Promise me, Chuck! You have only this one more to do. Promise that you'll be at the school in time to keep the kid from climbing the corroded flagpole. He's gonna be seriously injured when he nears the middle and it breaks off."

Gary gave him the look Chuck expected when he promised, "Gar! Have I ever let you down? I'm on it. Trust me." Leaving his wrappers on the table, he left before he had to listen to any more lectures.

When the door closed, Gary pulled the secreted clipping out from his pocket. Toni's own neighborhood was going to be the location of this last of the 'saves.' A cinch. That's what he thought, a cinch. He'd have plenty of time to tend to this simple case of diverting someone from their planned crossing the street in the path of an oversized three-wheeler being peddled by an elderly man. The bike rider was intent on observing some kids jumping rope using two ropes, 'double Dutch.' All Gary needed to do was yell his name and he turned his attention back in time to stop. The jaywalking pedestrian continued on his merry way and the bike-rider grumbled some unpleasantries at Gary and rode on.

The good Samaritan managed to be back at his place of confinement before the warden had a chance to return. When she did, her arms were loaded down with groceries. Toni refused his offered help in carrying and depositing the bags on her kitchen counter. She was pleased to notice that Gary had some color in his face today.

The next couple days went pretty much the same, except for Toni not being quite so concerned with leaving him alone in the bedroom as she slept in the den. Gary asked Chuck to bring the lunch earlier. While the two ate their lunch, Gary would check over the clippings that Toni had doled out to her errand boy, making sure that Chuck didn't notice the two or three items that were pocketed each time.

One day Marissa called just as Gary was preparing to leave for the last of the saves that he had kept. She usually kept her calls short, but this time she didn't seem to want to end the conversation. He finally had to give her an excuse in order to finish the call and get going. His time was short and this would be a close call. He needed to thwart a mugging in the park. It seemed pretty simple; he'd done this type of 'save' without injury many times before.

He used a taxi to cut some of the travel time, but needed to run the rest of the way to the picnic grove. As it was, he could see the 'jogger' approaching his target while Gary was still some fifty yards away. He sped up, knowing that the Sun-Times predicted that the victim was going to hold back in the handing over of his wallet to a stranger and be injured in the ensuing violent struggle.

With his breath coming in ragged gasps in the last leg towards his goal, Gary scrapped any ideas he may have had to reason with the assailant. There was no time left for conversation. All his remaining resources of strength were thrown into keeping up his speed and in bracing for a collision.

The meeting between the two men was violent as 180 pounds of running man collided with 230 pounds of still-standing man. Both men were thrown to the ground with a nauseating thump. While Gary lay on his back, stunned, the other man struggled to his feet, staggering into the arms of a park security guard. Additional assistance arrived to help control the would-be thief. The original targeted victim had not remained to witness the outcome.

The initial impact was to Gary's shoulder as he used football tactics to knock his target to the ground. One of the park employees knelt at his side, asking, "Mister, are you okay? Can you hear me?" When he saw Gary's eyes opening, he placed a hand on the chest of the prone man, instructing, "Lie still, we've called for assistance. Help is on the way."

Maybe it was the words, 'called for assistance,' that did the job, or possibly the information that 'help was on the way,' but it sent alarms off in Gary's head, causing him to make attempts at rising. The man who had been trying to offer him comforting assurances outweighed him and refused to allow him to move.

"Uh, I'd...I'd like to get up..please. Can you take your..your hands off of me? I need to get up, like now!" Gary's words had no effect on this person and his hands remained as weights, anchoring Gary to the spot. "Hey! Let me up, I'm okay now."

"Listen, buddy, I can't let you up. They've called for an ambulance while you were out. You're gonna have'ta be here until you get checked out."

"But, but, but I'm okay." He squirmed, growling, "Let me up!"

"Sorry. When someone is out and has blood pouring from his face, he's not just 'okay.' There are witnesses who will be needed for questioning. Anytime something like this happens on city land, a report needs to be filled out. You understand."

Gary took time to ponder the reference to the blood, becoming aware of the strange numbness of his nose. Reaching up within the mobility limits of his 'attendant's' restraining grasp, he was able to feel the stickiness of the blood covering his face. The strangeness of the numbness was that it wasn't fully numb. A spreading pain had enveloped his face around the nose area."Oh boy, am I in trouble now."

He intended to only think the words, but heard the man comment, "Nah, you're gonna be fine. The witnesses said the other guy is fine too. He's gone with security to wait for the regular cops.

"Cops! Oh, man, I'm dead meat. Brigatti's gonna kill me for this. She's gonna kill me!"

The guard was trying to understand what he was talking about, "Did you know those other two? Who's gonna kill you? Who's Brigatti? Was this mob stuff?" He almost left loose of Gary, thinking if this was mob related, he wanted no part of any of it.

Gary stopped fighting the guard's grip and concentrated on formulating an excuse that he knew would be needed to explain his absence from Brigatti's house and his involvement in this incident. "Oh, God," he mumbled with eyes closed.

Again misunderstanding the bloody man's comments, the guard assured him, "There's an ambulance coming, buddy, stay calm."

The ambulance did arrive and with it a couple of paramedics fussing over a patient who wished he could disappear..or die...or anything. Even the words, 'Beam me up, Scotty,' came to his mind as he was being loaded onto the gurney for transport to County General.

While they were still preparing him, he heard the guard commenting to the police about him mentioning that someone was going to kill him. Suddenly he decided which of the alternatives he'd prefer. It was definitely the one, 'or die,'-his only way out.

Things always seemed to just get better and better when one receives the daily newspaper a day early.


PART 10
CHAPTER 1

Hospital personnel had placed gauze pads on his eyes, a cold pack over his nose and left him to await further attention. As he lay there in the small examination cubicle, his mind darted from one worry to another.

It was unlikely that Brigatti wouldn't hear about this. She must have already noticed his absence, though, from her home and from the bed he was supposed to be confined to. What would she do, what would she do, he thought. Answering his own question, he acknowledged to himself, she'd call Marissa, then immediately pay her a visit at the bar. Going on from there, what could Marissa tell her? All she could do was worry. She'd call Chuck, if she could even find him. He'd answer and admit that he was in the dark about the whereabouts of his friend, too.

So, now there would be at least three worrying about where Gary Hobson was. He, who was supposedly recuperating from a brutal beating from one of his own bartenders, was now among the missing. And, no matter where he was, just how was he going to explain why he left?

Sure, they knew about the paper. Snow couldn't possibly have had this problem, could he? 'Gimme another week and all of Chicago would know about the paper.' How would he operate then, he wondered. He'd have a retinue following him around the city like puppy-dogs.

Even if his friends all knew, would they understand why he couldn't leave all of the duties of the paper to Chuck? He only answered its call because of the friendship the two shared, some sense of what a buddy does for a buddy. Chuck's attitude was one of 'what will Gary say if I don't do it,' not 'how can I help?'

The next ones to be let in on the missing person quandary would be his parents. It would probably be Marissa who'd be doing the calling. Because of her tact, a message would be left on their machine, telling them that she was trying to reach Gary. It would be just enough of a mystery to cause them to return the call promptly, but not so much as to cause them great concern for their son's welfare.

They would then end up tossing the ball into Toni Brigatti's court. She'd probably put in a call to Paul Armstrong and, more than likely receive no satisfying answers there either. He no more possessed a crystal ball than they did.

"We can call the hospitals, if you want..or we can sit it out and patiently wait in ambush for our errant and delinquent friend." He knew in his heart that Toni's voice would leave no question as to whether she was serious in her intent to make him sweat for the agony that his friends had been made to suffer.

While Gary was still running these things through his mind, a nurse and two men in white garb entered and began their procedures by removing the cold pack to examine the swollen and bloody face of the patient. Most of the blood had already been swabbed off, but it still appeared gruesome.

As the nurse wiped away more of the blood, one of the men stood at the back of the table, steadying Gary's head as the other one took super-sized swabs and proceeded to clean out his nostrils. Intense burning pain accompanied each movement of the swabs. His nose quickly lost its numbness; that is, it traded it for newly insulted and sensitized nerves and tissues.

"Sorry for the rough treatment, but we need to be able to find out just how much damage you did. How'd you happen to make such a mess of your nose, Mr. Upson?"

"Hobson," Gary corrected him, but between the garbling effects of the swabs and the blood, the name still sounded like 'Upson.' "I was...running in the park, ya see, and this guy.this, ah, guy, was bothering someone-a robbery, ya see-so I, I, I figured that, since he was so, so, ah, big and all, that it called for a football tackle." Why is it, he wondered, that telling the absolute truth about something sounded so phony?

The doctors glanced from one to the other and shrugged. They turned their attention to removing the patient's shirt and jacket-by way of a sharp scissors. As they noticed the reddening of the bruised shoulder, they also noticed some other things. Without words, one pointed out a spot at the opposite shoulder and followed on down the torso to point out another similar scar. They exchanged knowing glances and silently indicated the desire to confer about this patient outside of his hearing.

What attracted their curiosity was their observation of the two bullet wound scars, one of them still in the healing process. They conferred with the CPD before re-entering the cubicle and were promised a police guard. The name, 'Upson,' created no particular stir in police records; the guard was merely a precautionary measure. Park employees had already reported that this patient had been rambling on about his fear that someone was 'going to kill him;' mentioning the name, 'Brigatti.' Upon their return to the patient, one of the doctors asked Gary if he were involved in law enforcement.

The nasal twang made Gary's voice take on the sound of his having a severe sinus problem, but how it was meant to sound was, "No, I run a bar."

By the time the radiology department was finished with the X-rays, the guard was on site. As soon as Gary was returned to the examining room, one of the doctors arrived to explain their findings and to treat the damage to his nose. Their idea of treating it was to protectively bandage it, creating a frame of a sort over the nose to prevent further damage.

Standing back slightly, he hoped to reassure his patient, "No fractures in the shoulder injury, Mr. Upson." There was that 'Upson' reference again, "We'll be wrapping your arm to allow the shoulder to recuperate. As for the nose, well you already know that it suffered a pretty hard blow. Some cartilage damage, but it won't require surgery. You're lucky."

"So, I can leave?"

Instead of answering him directly, the doctor asked, "How're you feeling, painwise?"

"Fine." Seeing the look of disbelief on the other man's face he admitted,

"Well, I mean, there's pain, but it's not unbearable. I'll be fine in a couple of days-in my home!"

"Oh, you can go home all right, but we need you to take it easy for a few days. That means don't go playing any contact sports for a while. Heat will feel good on the shoulder. As for the nose, make an appointment with your primary doctor for some time next week. It should be seen, but I don't foresee any problems."

While they were talking, a nurse swabbed off a spot on Gary's upper arm and administered an injection. If there was one thing worse than a hospital visit, that, to him, would have been a shot. He flinched and glared at her.

"Orders," she whispered in apology.

"Do you have someone coming to pick you up?"

"My plan was to call a cab."

"We'd rather you have someone with you. That shot you just received was for pain and it may make you woozy."

Rather than take a chance on them keeping him any longer, he relented, saying, "I'll call."

Fine. Just great. How in hell was he going to keep a low profile tonight?

Just tonight, he wanted to slip into his loft, unnoticed, unquestioned, and, please God, undisturbed. He didn't need any sermons by Marissa, nor remonstrations from a certain CPD detective, nor whatever Chuck had in store for him. Maybe Crumb could be counted on to help him accomplish a secret entry. Low profile, that's what he needed.


CHAPTER 2

"Hi, I'm prob'ly workin' tonight. Leave a message. I'll get back to ya."

Crumb's message machine was so much like Crumb. Why couldn't he have been home? This was one time Gary really wanted to talk to him. Did he dare try to reach Crumb at the bar? What if Chuck or Marissa answered the phone? It took all of one minute to consider what he would do if that were to occur. Easy! He'd hang up!

Luck, if you could call it that, was with him, to begin with at least, when Zeke Crumb answered, "McGinty's."

The noise in the background prevented Crumb from hearing Gary's distorted voice the first time; so he repeated his request louder, "Crumb! Can ya hear me? I need you to do something for me."

With his usual lack of discretion, Crumb asked loudly, "Just where've ya been, Hobson? Everyone's having a fit that you're missin'."

"Quiet down, Crumb!"

He could hear that it was too late for secrecy as Chuck's voice was heard nearby, "Lemme have the phone. Gary! That you?"

He barely got out a "Yeah, it's me. Pipe down a little, will ya? I don't want everybody in on this."

"If you're referring to Marissa, she's already on her way from the end of the bar. Too late, chum. You're busted! Where've ya been?"

Gary was just about to tell him when another voice, an intensely concerned one, came on the line, "Gary, where are you? What were you thinking? How could you allow us all to worry like this?" Marissa stopped talking then and waited for his explanation.

Chuck, master in the art of understatements, was right. Busted!

"Marissa, I'm, I'm..I'll explain later. Put Chuck back on the line, please."

"What d'ya need, Gar, other than a world-class excuse? Either that or a bottle of fast-acting poison."

"Yeah, haha. What I need from you, Chuck-now don't repeat what I'm gonna say-I need you to come pick me up at County General. And bring me a shirt, one that buttons up, and a jacket. Before you have to ask, I'm in the emergency room." To Chuck's four-letter word of astonishment, Gary was quick to stress again, "Don't say it! Don't mention or even think the word, 'hospital.' You're a dead man if I hear it!"

"I'll be there," was all that was left that Chuck would be allowed to say. As he turned from the bar he saw two expectant faces to which he gestured that his lips were zipped.

CHAPTER 3

As the attendant brought, that is rolled, his friend out, Chuck understood why Gary didn't bother with telephone explanations. His arm was wrapped tightly to his chest and his face..well, Chuck was glad that it wasn't he having to face Marissa and Crumb. He gave Gary the cynical look that he had perfected so well through the years.

On the defensive, Gary said in his heavy nasal twang, "I'm fine. I know it doesn't look that way, but I'm fine."

"Okay, that's okay with me. I'm not the one who has to face, you know....""Look, Chuck, I'm not feelin' so hot right now. Don't give me a hard time. I'll tell ya all about it, just not right now. Tomorrow."

Almost under his breath, Chuck commented, "That's fine with me. Try that one out on Marissa..or Crumb."

By the time they arrived at McGinty's, the crowd had thinned out and the employees were beginning the nightly cleanup. Gary begged his friend to assist him in entering by way of the kitchen. "Nope. You're gonna face this like a man. I'm doin' this for your own good, buddy. Buck up, Gary. Your fans are dyin' ta see ya!" He was right, of course. He could either have faced them in the bar directly, or they would surely congregate in his loft. Either way he'd have to face it.

His 'fans' were at the bar as he entered. Crumb was facing the door as Chuck held it open for Gary. After saying something to Marissa, she turned to face her partner. "Gary?"

"Hey, Marissa. Yeah, it's me."

"You have a cold?"

"Not really." There was no use in trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. It would have been insulting and he had too much respect for her to make an attempt at deception. "I kinda bumped my nose. It's not..."

"It's not what, Hobson?" Crumb jumped right in with his interrogation, "It' s not a whole-body cast? It's not what? Out with it. Ya look like hell, kid."

"Well, thank you, Crumb. Nice to see you, too."

Marissa approached him to hug him, but stopped when she felt the stiffening of the bandages. Raising her hands to his face, she gently touched the bandaging there, too. "Take him upstairs, Chuck, and hang on to him on the steps, please. Like some tea or soup, Gary?"

Knowing that Marissa's mercy tonight would probably not extend to the next day, but, 'what the hell,' what he needed, he told himself, was a good night 's sleep...in his own bed.

-------------

Toni Brigatti was in the shower when Marissa's message came on the answering machine, reporting Gary's return. Because of the late hour, she wouldn't notice it until the next morning.

Sleep was difficult for her that night. Every creak of the house, every passing car, even the noise of the refrigerator starting up jolted her awake, thinking, hoping it was her wayward houseguest returning. Just as she felt that she could really fall asleep, the light had begun showing through the blinds. It was only five-thirty, but it would have been dangerous to allow herself to sleep now. God help anyone who crossed her today.

The tiredness was forgotten as soon as she passed the blinking light announcing Marissa's message. After listening to the announcement of Gary's return, a cold shower was called for as cooling-off therapy. "Gary's back and he's okay," was the gist of the message. She was both relieved and furious. Here she was, in her mid-thirties, and she still marveled at the insensitivity of men. Were they all like the ones she'd met so far?

Surely, there must have been one or two present when God gave out the virtues, especially those of thoughtfulness and common sense.

What would Hobson be like with such virtues, she wondered? He had the looks; he had the sexual attractiveness, the sense of humor, the voice...she allowed her thoughts to dwell on those attributes alone. Maybe it was a good thing that he had so many irritating qualities to balance off the devastatingly positive ones. It took her breath away considering just that.

CHAPTER 4

"Gooood morning, Chicago, it's a beautiful day...." The newscaster's voice sounded as though it could etch glass, or was that his nerves that morning? Even the cat's call seemed disturbed. For a moment Gary had to consider how to throw the covers off when his shoulder was bound with the arm held tightly to his chest. Finally deciding to sit up before edging off of the bed, he staggered sleepily to the door to get his day's assignments, every joint aching in remembrance of his violent tackle of the previous day.

Funny how important it was to have two hands available. Reaching down to the paper, he became aware of the female-type foot anchoring it down alongside the cat.

"Morning, Hobson," the dark-haired, petite form of Antonia Brigatti pushed her way past him. Stepping inside, she turned back to watch him retrieve the paper and motion the cat in. If he had been thinking more clearly, he would have left the cat outside in deference to Toni's allergies.

Critically observing the half-naked resident with, "You auditioning for the lead in 'The Mummy?'"

Walking around in only his boxers, Gary gave her a feeble, "Haha. Mornin,' Brigatti." Though they had been acquainted for several years and found themselves in varying degrees of familiarity, they still referred to each other by the surnames, except on rare occasions. Certainly this should have been considered a rare occasion, but not in the same way.

Cat was fed before Gary produced a cup of coffee for each of the two early-risers. "Were you gonna tell me what possessed you to leave yesterday? It looks like you hurried out of my place and stepped right in front of a truck. What's with all the bandages? You okay?"

"Yeah; they're nothing; and yes. Any other questions? There was an item in the paper about someone being mugged and I planned to be gone only a short while." He stood up to bring his pain meds to the table.

"And...and just where would you have obtained this particular news article? I have the paper. Actually Fishman had some of it."

Gary felt like a naughty boy as he was receiving her mother-like interrogation. It wasn't a feeling he welcomed. "Would you believe that one of Chuck's clippings fell to the floor?" Somehow her look did not confirm confidence in his credibility.

"I guess it doesn't really matter how you learned of the pending catastrophe. What matters, to me, is why you'd take a chance like that when you could have asked any one of us instead. Don't you ever consider that you could have been seriously hurt by not being in shape to take on 'saves'?"

"If I'm hurt or not shouldn't really be anyone's concern, but mine." He blurted it out so abruptly and uncaringly that it was as though he had slapped her in the face. Their eyes met across the table. He was unaware of the hurt his words had inflicted until he saw the look in her eyes.Pushing herself away from the table, she rose to go. Before stomping away, she had to make him understand, if only for the sake of their friends. "Don 't bother seeing me out. Before I go, though, I want you to dig deep for a tiny spot of humanity that must exist somewhere inside of you; and consider the feelings of your friends. To Marissa, you're a treasured big brother, an idol. Why? I can't imagine! To Crumb, you're the son he never had, a source of great pride to him. Again, I can't fathom why. In fact, I can barely believe it myself. And Fishman! Well, in case you can't tell, he worships the ground you walk on. If you smile, he smiles. If you're angry, he's angry! You're his damned hero, you idiot! It's no one's concern? When you went to college, did you major in stupidity? They're all 'concerned,' if that means that every time you stub your toe, they all limp! What's the matter with you? Are you blind as well as dumb?"

Somewhere in the middle of her harangue, he leaned his elbow on the table and buried his face in his hand, rubbing his forehead as he did. "Oooh, Brigatti...Toni..I'm, I.." He stood up and approached her, placing his good hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. It seems that there's always something calling me to do something. That something is not something that I can just put off for convenience sake. And it's not for Chuck to worry about. I feel so...so..incapable. Does that make sense?" When she didn't answer, he added, "These 'errands,' as I call them, are necessary, but I feel like I'm always fouling them up lately."

She grasped his arm, leading him over to the couch where they sat down. The pain medications were kicking in simultaneously with the turmoil he was experiencing. Trying to explain, he said, "It was my fault that Stan kidnapped and tortured Chuck. He went to the trouble to let me know that. I was 'treated' to having to listen, helplessly to him pounding away at my best friend."

Raving on, he continued, "It was my fault that Stan was killed. As far as I know, 'killing' is not a part of the paper's job descriptions. Then, just when I should be getting back at my responsibilities, instead of foisting the danger onto my friends, I bungled an assignment and got hurt again. In the process of that, I've hurt your feelings after you took me into your home. Now, I've hurt all of you." His head sagged as he continued, "Worst of all, the very worst of all, is that I've insulted, hurt, you. I've been thinking... I've, I've been.." He leaned back then, facing the ceiling, "I 've been thinking that it would have been better...if Stan had finished the job on me."

His eyes glistened with tears, yet they held their moisture. The words he had spoken drilled their implications into Toni's very heart. Understanding this man was not something she had ever experienced before, but a small part of his privacy curtain had parted, if only for this moment. The load, the agony from the seriousness of it, the utter burden to his soul in believing that he was responsible for the safety of each of the people involved in the situations to which he was called-here was the source of his anguish.

Lost in knowing what to do to comfort him, she knelt next to him on the couch cushion, found an unbandaged spot on his face, and impulsively kissed his cheek. Next she whispered something into his ear and placed another kiss on his forehead before sitting down next to him. She snuggled under his arm, causing him to wrap it around her waist. They sat there, unspeaking, unmoving.

He felt his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier. "Toni, are you awake?"

"Um-hmm," she murmured as she cuddled closer.

"I need to go to bed. My shoulder is aching from sitting here."

At this, she sat upright, straightening her clothes. "I'd better go on to work, too; I've got a long day ahead of me. Do you need some help?" Not needing his response, she went to open his bed for him. "Give me your hand," she said as she led him to the bed, adding, "I'll tuck you in."

"I'm never going to get any rest with this arm tied down like this. Can you help me take the wrapping off? At least for now?"

Reluctantly, she began unwrapping the layers of binding until he was freed of the restraints to his arm and hand. The areas it had covered showed marks of having been too tightly bound. "Are you going to be okay..alone?"

She could see that he was trying to scratch. "Here," she helped him stretch out, "Have you any liniment or lotion? I'll rub it in before I leave."

"Rub it in, huh? Bottom shelf in the medicine chest has some stuff for that."

Instructing him to lie as much on his stomach as possible, she covered his back with the cold-feeling lotion, rubbing it in circular motions. "Turn over and I'll get the front of your shoulder and chest."

"I, I don't think you'd better do that, Toni. I'll take care of the front.""Don't be silly. I'm here and I can see the places where it's needed." She saw him jump as she spread a handful of the lotion on his chest and shoulder. "I'll be careful."

He watched her face as she concentrated on smoothing the thick liquid on. Her deep brown eyes concentrated on each spot, her fingers thoroughly covering the points of trauma. Just as the doctors had paid attention to the scars of the bullet wounds, she did too, her hands gently skirting the scars themselves. When she finished, she closed the bottle and suddenly noticed him watching her intently. "What? Did I hurt you?"

"Nothing that shows."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Without moving his gaze from her brown eyes, he assured her, a bit wistfully, "Oh, nothing, I guess." As she replaced the wrappings, he uttered, "Thanks. Toni?"

"Yeah."

"What did you whisper in my ear before? I felt you close and I felt your breath in my ear, but I didn't quite understand what you said exactly."It was so hard for this independent woman to allow her feelings to be exposed. Telling him twice what she had agonized over telling him once? Could she? Out loud?

Hoping to put him off, she said, almost flippantly, "Oh, never mind, it wasn't important. You're tired. Ask me later; I'll be back." She pulled the blanket over him and tucked it in around him.

"I don't think that I could sleep without knowing what it was that you wanted me to know. What was it?" He reached out for her hand, bringing it closer. "What did you want me to know that was important enough to whisper into my ear?" Gary saw her growing discomfort at his request, but largely ignored it as he urged, "I'll close my eyes if it helps any." He closed his eyes, still holding her hand in his.

Knowing there was no way she could leave until she told him, she whispered again, her lips lightly touching his ear, "What I said was, your friends are concerned about you; they love you. I'm concerned about you," adding the final words self-consciously, "I love you even more than they do."

The significance of her 'confession of affection' struck him like a bolt of lightning. He caught her face before she could move away from him, pulling her closer as he kissed her mouth. "Thank you. I just wanted to hear that again. I wanted to be sure that the words I had heard from you were real."

"They're real all right. And for me, difficult to say. And painful. But, at least to me, they're truthful. It's taken me a while to express them even to myself; I never thought I would ever say them to you." She stood up and backed away a few steps, saying, "Take what I said to you in any way you want. It is true, no matter how you feel. Now I really have to go. I'm already late for work." Before he could muster up any words, she was gone, leaving him to ponder her confession.

And he did...until he fell asleep.

PART  11
CHAPTER 1

They hadn't spoken again of Toni's admission of affection, love actually, for her oh, so enigmatic friend. She continued showing up early in the morning, sometimes just as he opened the door for the paper, sometimes a few minutes later. He usually had the coffee made in advance of her arrival; sometimes he would accompany the coffee with toast or a sweet roll.It had become fact that she would abscond with the paper every day. His arguments were useless; she always gave the promise that 'things' would change after his doctor's appointment pronounced him fit again. Meanwhile, she left every day after her continental breakfast with him, taking the paper along with her.

The first couple of days he tried asking her about the paper's demands, but all she would reply was "Everything's fine. Don't worry unless I tell you to worry. Just get better." Gary Hobson had worried all of his life. He tended to think ahead of all the possibilities related to events. With the paper's influence, he had the questionable luxury of worrying in advance.

Sitting back, being kept in the dark about the daily assignments that the Sun-Times proscribed was driving him crazy. He lingered in the bath. He paced. He ate; the scale showed five pounds added since the mugging incident in the park. He cleaned out his refrigerator. That was a first. Some of the remote corners of the fridge could have been used in a school science project.

Afternoons would find him wandering around downstairs in the bar. Some small, long-neglected tasks received the attention he had promised for years. The week dragged on. With only the current daily newspaper to consult, he began slipping out the back for walks in the area. One of the days, while he was out, he thought he spotted Toni Brigatti driving past, too absorbed in her thoughts to notice the dark-haired man walking away from a newsstand.

He wanted, he needed, to have Toni stay long enough for the two of them to have an in-depth discussion regarding her stunning announcement. The words had etched themselves in his memory, demanding that he respond. Did she say those things just to spur him on toward recovery? What if he were to disclose his feelings and she had been merely giving him words of friendship, of kindness? He wasn't so sure, now that several days had passed, that he wasn't reading more into the conversation than had been meant.

By the end of the week, he had made a decision to meet the problem head-on. The only time he saw Toni now was when she picked up the morning paper. Wouldn't she have stopped by to visit if she had been serious about her statement of..affection? He kept using the word, 'affection,' in place of her 'love' word. His experience with Marcia, using the word, love, on a daily, sometimes hourly basis, had burned deeply when it was surgically removed with the divorce.

He was showered and dressed the next morning as she arrived. They sat, prolonging the morning coffee ritual, until he spoke, "My appointment with the doctor is this morning. Do you have the time to take me around 11? No problem if you can't. I can take a cab."

She had already scanned the paper. "Yeah, I can pick you up around 10:30. A week, huh? It sure went fast. How're you feeling? You never say much."

He flexed the shoulder slightly and assured her it was 'fine.'

"Okay, then. Okay, I'll be back. I gotta do something this morning before we go. See ya."

That's the way their conversations went most every day. Short sentences. Short answers. Short observations. Too short for the answers he needed. He would wait. Hopefully, when the time came, he would have the courage to not just approach the subject-them-but to delve into some real answers.

Until then, he would have some three hours to worry the problem into a real plan.

The morning passed quickly as he took inventory of the hard liquors, by case. From the results, he prepared a needs list and went on to inventory the mixers. For most of that activity, he needed to navigate the fateful steps that put the chain of events of the past months into effect. He descended and re-ascended those steep, wooden stairs with one hand iron-gripping the railing, with blood-red visions flashing before his eyes.

He came out of the cellar just as Toni Brigatti was entering the front door. He had never remembered seeing her wearing dark glasses as she was now. She was able to effect a look of mystery behind those exotic shades. Gary waved a greeting and joined her, calling out a goodbye to Marissa, who was sitting at the bar with her coffee, listening to the news.

As they were parking at the medical building, Toni informed him that she would be waiting in the car-that she had some things to sort out. She watched him walk toward the huge medical complex. Was she ever going to receive some answers to the way she was feeling? The last few days had gone by quickly. She performed the tasks needed each day, but her emptiness prevented any satisfaction in completing them.

Would it have been so terrible for Gary to have responded to her declaration, her revelation of the love she felt for him, the love that had grown to the point of her having to blurt it out that day? If he felt nothing more than a friendship, he could have said he cared for her as he did for Marissa, or Crumb, or, horrors, Fishman. He didn't respond at all. Not at all! She went over and over that morning's disclosure. It seemed clear, at least to her, that she differentiated the way she felt from that way that his friends felt.

Well, it was clear that if he had the same feelings that she did, he would've told her then, right when the opportunity was so...open. Whenever she arrived at this point, she agonized over having said it in the first place.

Lost as she was in her thoughts, he surprised her as he crossed in front of her car suddenly and took his place in the passenger seat. His arm was free from the binding wraps and his face had lost its bandaging across the nose area. "So how'd the visit go? From your expression, it looks like you've had some good news."

"I'm fine, er, sorry, I've been okayed to resume my life, thank God. This past week! The past week has seemed like the longest week in my life. Not bein' really 'sick,' it's hard to, ah, just sit around. And the paper! I never thought that I could miss it as much as I have." As though the mention of the paper had brought up the question, he asked, "Now that I think of it, where is it?"

"I'm glad you're back to whatever normal has ever been for you. The paper's okay until later in the day." She started the car, saying, "I'll take you back to the bar. Do you need to stop anywhere before going home?"

"Now that you mention it, I'd like to stop at that little park we passed on the way here."

"The park?" This man. This man, would he never cease to amaze her? He possessed the uncanny ability to always be unpredictable. Most men were readable. You could tell what they'd order in a restaurant. You knew what they would say whenever they passed an auto parts store; it was always the same story about the first car they ever owned. And as to their thinking, passing an attractive woman caused their eyes to glaze over and their minds to wander.

He directed her back to the small playground and picnic area that they had gone by on their way to the medical appointment.

As she turned off the motor, she looked around, then turned to him as if asking 'what next?'

He reached to her face and removed her sunglasses, speaking almost in a whisper, "I need to see your eyes in order to say what I have to say." She was going to object to him removing the glasses, but his hands had already removed them. He had already seen that which she didn't wish for him to see. Her left eye was noticeably swollen..and black! "What in the world happened? This morning you didn't have the shiner."

"Yeah, well, you know how it goes," she said in a matter of fact way. "You, of all people, know how accident-prone someone can be when they receive the paper a day early. I zigged when I should have zagged and a little kid's hard fist got me right on target! Hurt like the devil for a while."

"The paper? I thought Chuck was handling the paper. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him for a few days."

"I meant to tell you, Gary, he had to go out of town for a couple of weeks, something about his parents, or grandmother, or someone. He couldn't quite handle the paper from Cincinnati, now could he? Anyway, I'm doin' it."

"You're handling the paper? How's that happening-with your job and all?"

"That's another thing that I meant to tell you. I've taken a leave of absence from the force for a while. I have some savings and I needed some time off. And this seemed like the perfect moment to do it."

"What else are you not telling me that you 'meant' to?" When she didn't answer, he continued with, "There's a reason that I wanted to have you drive us here. We've left some words unsaid."

"I think I've said all that I need to." Trying to appear uninvolved emotionally, she added, "In fact, I'd say that I said far more than I should've."

"Well, I haven't. I have something on my mind, something that's had me..had me...something I have to ask."

"And what's that, Hobson?"

"What did you mean the other day when you said you loved me?"

There it was. The subject that she both feared and desired, "What do you think I meant? I mean, what do you mean when you tell someone such a thing? Or is it so common a thing to say that it means 'how's the weather'?"

"No-no-no-no-no," he stammered nervously, "We're missing the question. What-did-you-mean? Do you love me?"

"Why are you doing this?" A hole seemed to open up in the pit of her stomach, "You think it's easy to say that to someone? I've never said it before to anyone! Honestly, you do make me crazy sometimes."A flirtatious smile appeared on his face and in his eyes as he asked, "Just sometimes?"

"Haven't we had this conversation before? What I said, I meant. You were feeling kinda low at the time and I wanted you to know-just once, 'cause I'm not sayin' it again-how people felt about you, how I feel about you. If you don't feel the same...well, obviously you don't. It's okay. It's okay, Hobson. I'm an adult.."

"You're an ad..! And, by the way, can we stop referring to each other as 'Hobson' and 'Brigatti'? I hate it! You've got this beautiful name, fitting your looks, and I'm expected to call you 'Brigatti'? Can't 'Gary' argue with 'Toni'? Or, 'Antonia'? 'Brigatti' and 'Hobson' are just too impersonal. Hobson and Brigatti would never..never just, just kiss and, and hold each other. They'd never feel an aching, yeah, an aching to, ah, to, ah.. They'd never..that is, they could never..." He couldn't get the words out that he wanted to say. What he could do and did was to meet her eyes with his mouth, gently kissing them, only then moving on to the rest of her face, finally concentrating his kisses on her mouth.

She moved her hand to place it over his heart and he held it there in his as he felt her heart beating as madly as his was. He stopped to catch his breath and whispered, "I love you, Antonia. I love you, Toni."

Her breathless, "Gary," coming passionately, expectantly, was the word that set him back to the job of hungrily kissing her again.

A loud pounding at the car window startled them. "Hey, you two! Take it to a hotel. There're kids here in the park."

"Don't let go, Gary. Hold me," Toni said as she clung to him, her head at his neck.

First of all, the cop at the window surprised him, and then Toni clinging to him as he tried to respond to the officer's order stunned him. Hanging on to her with one hand, he reached over to open the car window with the other. "So..sorry, officer. We.."

"We have a perfect right to be here. Tell him, Gary," Toni directed, still with her mouth placing shiver-producing kisses along his neck as she unbuttoned his shirt.

He whispered, "Toni, what are you doing? Let's get out of here."

She was facing his neck, but Gary was facing an increasingly impatient police officer. "I said, move it on or I'll take you in for disturbing the peace."

Toni was ready to answer the challenge, still averting her face, "Officer, we weren't disturbing the peace at all; we were scandalizing the public decency code; we were being a public nuisance; we might even have progressed to making love in public, but we were NOT disturbing the peace!"

Gary couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why was she doing this?A CPD officer is never happy having his authority challenged. The next words issuing from his mouth were, "All right, you two. Step out of the vehicle and keep your hands in sight!"

While Gary sat there paralyzed with shock, Antonia Brigatti stepped out of the car immediately with hands raised. Before the officer could initiate a search for weapons, she flashed the badge being held high in her left hand. When she handed it over to the cop, he examined the ID contained in the same holder as the badge. She held her finger in front of her mouth in a silencing motion and whispered to the officer that she was undercover and 'working' with this suspect.

Playing along with her lead, he began asking her questions as though he may have been concerned about her welfare. "Has this man been bothering you? Do you need some help, Miss?"

Gary was just leaving the car as the questioning went on, making it sound as though he was forcing himself upon her! He was about to defend himself to the officer when the policeman opened the car door for Toni and warned her to move on. Gary took his seat again. They drove away from the park and headed towards McGinty's.

"What just happened there, Toni? What was the big idea of antagonizing the guy? He might have arrested us."

"Exactly. He was going to check my identity and find out that I was a detective. I did the only thing there was to do. I told him you were a suspect and I was working undercover."

"You told him what?! You told him I'm a criminal? What did ya do that for? Now he thinks I'm a crook!"

"Whatever he thinks is better than having my name appear on a police blotter as being arrested for smoochin' in public. Relax. What's the worst that can happen? He'll report that I was with a suspect in a suspicious vehicle in the park. Do you think he'll report what we were doing? Not on your life. As far as he's concerned, whatever we were doing, I was working."

She saw his expression of doubt and tried to reassure him, "Don't worry, it'll be fine."

They had pulled up in front of McGinty's. "Come upstairs with me, Toni," he invited, "I may have a relapse if you leave now."

Toni actually laughed to hear his attempt at seducing her to his loft. "Sounds tempting," she said, smiling, "but I have an errand that needs my attention. If I stay, well, you know how time seems to slip away when you' re having..fun. The paper has had a headline about some sixteen-year-old about to enter a life of crime by heisting, that is, trying to heist, a pawnshop. These kids! Pawnshops are probably the most well protected businesses of all. The kid wants the money to buy his sister the dress she needs for a dance. Imagine that? Nice sentiment, wrong method."

"Hey, let me check in with Marissa and I'll go along with you."

"I know you'd like to, but I've got this one covered. Say 'Hi' to her for me and I'll be back after I see to the pawnshop. The kid is worth the fifty bucks it'll cost me." She drove off before he could register a complaint.

CHAPTER 2

Toni had no trouble in deterring the teen from his plan. As she checked her paper again, though, for one last time before returning, she saw a disturbing item. It had not been in the news issue earlier, but took front-page attention now. "FIRE BREAKS OUT IN BAR, LEAVING ONE DEAD."

Headlines such as this had become common in the short time since she had taken over the paper's demands. Every day, it seemed, carelessness had caused fires to claim at least one life. Most of the time it was the smoke that caused the victim's demise. Usually the fire department was able to handle the damages to property. Lives were the real cost.

What was causing Toni the distress over this particular case was the location. McGinty's was the name of the bar-restaurant. The kitchen fire was controlled before the flames could spread to the bar. Another good thing in the reported fire was that no employees or customers were hurt.

The part that chilled her and sent adrenalin coursing through her system was that the sole victim was the owner who was killed by smoke inhalation as he had been resting in his loft above the business. It appears that he hadn't been noticed as missing from the downstairs activities.

The bar was not that far from where she was, but the traffic had become congested in the way that a large city changes from one minute where the traffic flowed to the next moment when it was at a standstill. Frantically trying to call Gary's loft, she dialed again and again, only succeeding in reaching the answering machine. The morning had tired the recuperating owner out and he was taking a 'few minutes' nap.

Calling the bar over and over achieved nothing except to hear that the line was busy. Desperately, she dialed the fire department and sought out their assistance. The trouble with dealing with the Sun-Times articles was that the events had not yet taken place. In addition, the person reporting the situation was usually not at the location about which they were reporting.

Finally, in real panic, she called Paul Armstrong for his help; then she hung up after a very brief explanation of how she might have known about this about-to-happen catastrophe. Parking the car, she took to running the last few blocks to prevent the devastating outcome. The grease fire had spread in the kitchen, but produced more smoke than burn damage.

Toni and Gary, they had only just 'found' each other; this couldn't possibly be meant to happen, could it? She could still feel the heat of their embrace. Her lips still held the tingling of his kisses. 'Please, please let me get to him in time,' she prayed as she ran. He had told her about Lindsay, that some day the young girl would grow into the role of the paper-recipient. Did that mean that Gary would be allowed to retire? She couldn't see that as plausible. Rather, it probably meant that upon Gary's death the young woman would take over. But Lindsay wasn't much more than thirteen or fourteen, was she? 'No, Gary! Wake up! It's not time!' They had so much tying them to one another; why couldn't he hear her?

Up ahead she saw the reason for the traffic stoppage. Fire trucks and a paramedics vehicle blocked the road. Smoke was just now beginning to pour out of the building. Customers had dispersed; few waited around to watch. As she neared the action, she picked out Marissa, Crumb and some of the other employees numbly watching the efforts of the firefighters.

"Marissa! Marissa!" Toni hugged her, automatically relieved to see that she was safe. She had to yell to be heard, "Where's Gary? Did they get him out?"

The blind woman had the same shocked look that the others standing around had. Toni's implied danger to Gary stunned her, causing her to shake her head and yell back, "Gary went with you, didn't he? He's not here. Everyone's out, Toni."

Crumb confirmed her statement, "Gary's not here. We didn't see him."

"Crumb! He is here! He's upstairs." Tears of panic filled her eyes as she pleaded, "Please, please help me get to him."

Firemen blocked the way as the two attempted to enter the now smoke inundated building. The emergency workers apologized and assured them that no one was left inside.

Toni looked to Crumb with fear, saying to him and to the firemen near, "My friend, Gary, my.. He's in there! Either you go in and get him, or I will!"

Paul Armstrong was among those hearing her panicked appeal. He stepped forward and pleaded with the firemen to check for the missing man upstairs. Somehow his voice spoke of authority more than the urgings of the others. Two firefighters with breathing apparatus equipment re-entered the building, working their way up the stairs. The smoke had concentrated in the loft area and stairway.

Upstairs, the door was no problem to break down. Windows were opened to dispel the smoke. One of the men placed an oxygen mask on the man they found on the couch before they carried him down the stairs.

When she was forbidden entrance to the building, Toni had stood clinging to Crumb for support. Zeke Crumb heard the crowd hush as the fireman carried the limp figure out to the waiting paramedics. "Brigatti," he said in a forced calm, "they got him."

She was afraid to move when she saw how still he was as he was placed on the gurney. It was being loaded into the ambulance in preparation for transport. At the last minute, she hopped up into the vehicle. "I'm CPD and I'm goin' with!" Their objections were over-ruled by her assertive demeanor. The doors were shut and the sirens cleared the way for the rush to the hospital.

CHAPTER 3

Even her CPD identity didn't buy her entry to the emergency room, though, where he had been taken. They directed her, instead, to a waiting area filled with others in the same situation in which she found herself. Some of those sitting around had family members present; some sat alone like her, silently praying for their loved ones to be miraculously 'fixed-up' by the hospital personnel. After thirty minutes, she went to check and was told that they were still working on him and that she would be notified as soon as she could see him.

Thirty minutes became an hour. Marissa and Zeke Crumb joined her in the waiting area. Toni seemed so fragile that Crumb hardly recognized her. 'Fragile' was not a word usually associated with Toni Brigatti. If something happened, something..serious, she would need the tough detective persona to get her through it.

Finally someone at the treatment room entry doors, called out, "Mrs. Hobson?"

The three friends looked from one to another in curious wonder until Toni stood up and answered to the name. They directed her to a cubicle in which her 'husband' was being treated. He lay there on the examination table, still and ashen. It frightened her to see him unmoving like that, seemingly lifeless. She grasped his limp hand and called his name.

A nearby nurse commented, "He may not be able to answer you yet. Just have a seat; someone'll be here to talk with you shortly."

"Gary. It's Toni; can you hear me?" A full-face oxygen mask hid his features. She tried threats; "Don't do this to me, Gary. If you know what' s good for you, you'd better not leave me like this. I'd better see your eyes open soon." When he didn't respond, she begged more earnestly, tears evident in her voice, "Please. Gary, please. I need to know you're okay."

The doctor entering the cubicle addressed her as 'Mrs. Hobson' and she didn't bother to correct him. "Mr. Hobson is being treated for smoke inhalation." As if she didn't already know it. "His oxygen levels are not good, but they are responding to our efforts. He'll be kept overnight and until we're happy with the numbers. In a few minutes they'll be transferring him to a room where you can be with him. Right now I need for you to go back to the waiting room. They'll let you know his room number as soon as we have one."

The numbness she was feeling showed in her face, causing him to ask, "Are you okay, Mrs. Hobson? Would you like some help?"

She let his words soak in to her consciousness and she mumbled, "No, I'll just...just go out there and wait. Thanks."

Toni found her way back to Zeke and Marissa. In a zombie-like way, she told them what the plan was. Not her plan, of course, the hospital's plan. Her plan would have included seeing him waken, sit up and get ready to go home with them. As they waited, Paul Armstrong entered the waiting area and sought them out. "How's he doin'?"

When Toni just shook her head, Crumb volunteered in relating all that they knew to the moment. Paul wanted so badly to grill Toni about how she knew, from a distance, about what was happening at the bar. It was all he could do to hold his questions. He could see that she was not operating with all her faculties; another time would have to do.

"Why does it take so long to find a room in a hospital? Surely they're not filled to capacity." Toni was beginning to leave her numbness behind and to get her feelings back. "How long has it been? Two hours?"

"Yeah, it's been at least that," Zeke said, agreeing, "I think I'll just check with the desk."

Whatever he said to the employees at the desk must have gotten some action because he came back with a room number and directions for finding it.As they entered the room they were struck with the relative quiet. The machines surrounding his bed were there delivering oxygen and monitoring his blood pressure and heartbeat. He had an IV, almost a 'given' in any hospital stay, but his coloring was better than it had been earlier. Zeke was describing Gary's appearance to Marissa as Toni shed silent tears over seeing him lying there as he was. She grasped his hand in hers, afraid to release it, feeling as though it would be like releasing him.

Gary coughed deeply, opening his eyes as the coughing abated. The confusion over where he was showed in his expression. Without waiting for him to ask, Crumb said, "Well, Hobson, ya did it again. This hospital oughtta name a wing for you."

"Did it again? Did what again? What happened?" he asked, causing the coughing to begin again. "All I remember is taking a nap." He coughed again and commented, hoarsely, "My throat's so sore."

"You can't even take a nap without gettin' in trouble. It's a damn good thing that Brigatti told us you were upstairs. Hey, how'd you know he was up there?" After he asked, it dawned on him how she must have known and he didn't pursue the question further.

Ignoring him, Toni touched Gary's face and met his eyes with hers. "Glad to have ya back. Can't you stay outta trouble? I can't leave you alone for ten minutes without you havin' problems." Her smile accompanied her scolding.

With the roughness still evident in his voice, he said, "Then, I guess, we' ll have to make sure we're always together. That way we can always be there for each other." The talking seemed to leave him breathless and gasping.Paul had been standing at the foot of the bed. He made a comment about being glad to see Gary awake; then he patted Gary's leg and made an excuse about leaving and hoping to see him tomorrow. Marissa and Zeke also said their goodbyes and left, allowing Toni and Gary to be alone.

"I was pretty scared to see your name listed as the sole victim of the fire at McGinty's." From the look on his face, she knew she had to explain about the fire and the extent of its damage. "You can't do this to me, you know."In his gravelly voice, he said, "Why don't you marry me? Then you'll be able to keep better track of me-and I won't have to do all this explaining all the time."

She laughed at the sight of him, lying in a hospital bed, proposing to her. "I've got half a mind to take you up on that offer. It might save me a lot of worry." She reached up to her hair, adding, "I found a gray hair the other day that I attribute to you."

Instead of the laughter she had hoped to invoke, he went into a series of deep down, body shaking coughs just as a nurse entered. She went about her duties with her patient, ultimately informing the couple that visiting hours were over. She tried to communicate to Gary's visitor that all the talking was causing his coughing which was weakening him furher.

CHAPTER 4

Zeke Crumb picked up his boss from the hospital the next day. He may have known about the paper, but he was uncomfortable referring to its implications. To explain Toni's absence that morning, he commented that she 'had some errands to attend to, paper-style.'

The former CPD detective may have had enough rough edges to cut diamonds, but his character didn't lack for a class of its own. At a formal dinner, he would very likely have chosen the wrong fork for the salad and end up having to use the salad fork for dessert. His suits weren't always perfectly pressed and his grammar was reliably imperfect as well, but his value as a true friend couldn't be questioned.

Impatience with his male friends was balanced off with perfect patience with people like Marissa and Toni. He was protective to a fault of Marissa, one of his most-favored friends. She could have evoked sympathy-if one didn't know and respect her. Those, like Zeke, or Marion, as she called him, who took the time to get to know her, admired her for her abilities, without attaching a 'for a sightless person' disclaimer.

To Toni Brigatti, Zeke Crumb, as she called him, was one of the toughest, most experienced detectives that Chicago had ever employed. He had been married once to a lady who was able to soften the crust formed by belonging to the CPD. Her death left a fence around his tender spots, penetrated only by people like Marissa, and sometimes Toni.

He had seen the growing closeness between his former colleague and his barkeeper friend. He was amused by their pretense of irritation with each other. It didn't slip past him, though, how protective they were of each other. Either would easily have given their life for the other. Sometimes he wondered if they were blind to the visual joy that being in each other's presence produced.

Gary thanked Zeke for the ride and went up to his loft. The familiarity was comforting. The first thing he did was check the refrigerator for milk. It didn't occur to him that he'd been away for a few days until he poured the milk and it came out of the container in chunks. Ugh! He emptied it into the sink and went downstairs to find something cold and, hopefully, fresh.Orange juice filled the bill perfectly. He took it with him into the office and sat down opposite Marissa. As he watched her working at the desk, he thought of all the things that he depended solely upon her to do. She really ran the bar. Giving her the half-interest in the business had been generous in some people's eyes, but he felt confident that he was getting the best part of the deal. She made it possible for him to tend to the paper's demands.

They made small talk as she worked. Suddenly growing serious, he began, "Marissa, can I talk to you?"

"Gary, forgive me, but that's what I thought we were doing."

"Yeah, yeah, but I mean, I need to talk about something important. I need to ask you something about..about...Toni-Brigatti."

Marissa smiled, "Oh, that Toni." She put on her more serious expression, "Go ahead. I'm listening."

"What do you think about Toni? As a person, I mean?"

Marissa was amused with the whole conversation and understood where it was going, but played along, "Oh, as a person. Well, I guess, as a person she's okay."

"Okay?" he pressed, "Just okay?"

"Gary, come on, let me in on it. What do you want me to say? Do you want me to describe her? In that case, she's female, not very tall, a little sarcastic at times, walks with a firm stride, is very sharp intellectually, and..and...is drop-dead in love with you."

Gary's silence made her wonder if he was still there. "Gary? Gary?"

"I'm here. Do you really think that she cares, I mean, can you really tell that she lo..lov.."

"I said she loves you, Gary. Loves. That's 'L-O-V-E-S.' Understand? You can say it."

"Gary? You're still here, right? If you are, just breathe or cough once in a while."

"Marissa, are you sure? Do you think I could, that is, do you think she would say.. I'm afraid that what I feel is not what she feels."

Marissa toned down her amusement and reached her hand toward Gary. As he clasped it, she tried to make him understand, "You're the nicest, most sensitive person I've ever met and I know Toni feels that way and more. Stop worrying about all that stuff and, if you want to marry her, ask her. You can analyze all her feelings and your feelings forever and nothing will ever happen; nothing until you ask her. Now put some starch in your backbone and go for it."

He gave her a silly smile, "Was that your 'one for the Gipper' speech?" His voice became quietly serious as he asked, "What about my past track record? What if I make the same mistakes with Toni that I must have made with Marcia? I didn't even see that one coming. It's not something I want to live through again."

Marissa squeezed his hand tighter trying to put emphasis in her words, "You take chances every day with tending to the paper. You put your emotions and your very life in jeopardy every day! Now you're wondering whether you should take a chance on, on, on the rest of your life! Tell me, Gary, when you throw yourself into a 'save,' do you stop first to consider how you'd feel if you failed?"

"I don't have time to evaluate every move that I... I guess you're right. Guarantees don't come with the job. Marissa, I care so much for her. What if she's not happy; what if I don't make her happy?"

Gary, I'm afraid I can't help you with that one. All I can do is ask you, how do you 'make' someone happy? Can it be done? Be what you are, do what love demands. If you love her and act that way every day, that's all you can do. Now stop worrying. Ask her!"

Gary retrieved his nervously moist hand from her grasp and stood up to leave, "I love you, Marissa. You're the greatest. Thanks."

CHAPTER 5

On the way over to Toni's house he stopped and bought some long-stemmed red roses, the ones without too strong a fragrance. He hadn't called. He just went over there and sat on her porch step to wait for her. It seemed a little silly to sit there with a bouquet of roses in his hands, but he held on to them as he leaned against the post.

'What if she laughs, or gets angry?' She didn't really answer yes or no when he asked her in the hospital, did she? Did he sound serious enough? Maybe she thought he was being funny. If she says 'no,' would it be okay if he argued his case? How? He scratched his head rapidly as he considered how he could convince her to say 'yes' once she said 'no.' He stood up and began to pace the width of the yard, trying to think of a sure-fire argument why someone, someone like Toni, should agree to marry him.

He thought back on the history of their acquaintance. Strange, yes. Exciting and volatile, definitely. Trying to enumerate the things that they had in common, he knew there had to be some things, but all he came up with at that moment was the sexual attraction that he knew they shared. Their first kiss was quite chaste and self-consciously enacted. It was the next kiss and the long one following that one that sent electricity through him every time he revisited the day. They were both left breathless with the excitement. Tingling tremors accompanied that long, enveloping kiss at the jewelry store. It didn't matter in the least that they had an audience. No one else in the world existed while their mouths were pressing, tasting, exploring each other.

Her well-placed kick to his shin put an end to their embrace. It was a good thing it did, too. He wouldn't have been willing to end it on his own. Since that time they had shared other forms of affection, some mild and friendly; some earth-shaking-the type that could have had them both in trouble. No, he was quite certain that they truly shared a sexual attraction. That would not be their problem.

They shared their passion for the duties of the paper. Passion had to be the word for it since no person in their right mind would call what they felt for the paper, love. She was generous with her time and efforts in the paper's behalf. He trusted her implicitly in that regard. Yes, he felt they were compatible as far as the Sun-Times was concerned.

What about children? Would she be willing to have children with him? As far as he had seen thus far, she was able to show compassion with children of all ages. And if she wasn't willing? What then? He was already lost in love. Could he accept her wishes if she were to decline the childbearing part of a marriage? Would he resent it later on into the marriage?

Children meant so much to him. He wanted to see a part of the two of them be reproduced as a contribution to the next generation. He had considered not discussing the child issue with her in fear of a negative response, but that wouldn't have been fair. No, he had to ask. He had to hear.

What else did they have in common? Not politics! Did it matter? Not to him. Religion? Neither of them was active in a church, but if there were to be children, they had better consider it. How about their jobs, their careers? That they could discuss, but he didn't have any particular objection to her career except for the danger. On the other hand, the paper's duties held more danger on a more regular basis than her CPD job did.

She would have to be the one to decide whether to continue with the police department or not.

His mind spinning, he sat down again, placing the flowers beside him and resting his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

Gary hadn't heard her car. He looked up as he heard the gate being opened. Instead of becoming more nervous at seeing her, he found his heart lighten at the sight of Toni coming toward him. Picking up the bouquet, he held it as he wrapped his arms around her. They stood there in front of the house, embracing. After what seemed like a long time, Toni asked, "Ya wanta come in? I could make some dinner."

He followed her in and held her tightly again just inside the front door. "Toni, I need to, to, ah, I want, that is, ah, I have to.."

"Come on, big guy, sit down and tell me what you're trying to get out. You want me to start dinner first?"

They sat on the couch, the bouquet forgotten as he placed it on the coffee table in front of them. "Toni. Toni."

"Is something wrong, Gary?" she asked, looking deeply into his eyes. "How about letting me get us something to drink?"

"No. I need to get this out while I still have the nerve. You told me you loved me. Was that 'love' like 'in love'?"

This man could be so exasperating. He was still on the semantics of her pronouncement. "Yes, Gary. Love, as in 'I love you'."

"Well, well then, I, I want to know if you remember a question I asked when I was in the hospital?"

This was no time to make things easy for the guy, so she asked, "Oh, the hospital. Which time would that be? This year? This month? This week? Which time?"

He squinched his eyes and pulled his fingers through his hair as he prepared to go on. "The question I'm..I'm referring to is, ah, the one where I asked, ah, asked if you, if you would, ah, would marry me. I feel that I, I love you and, and I need you to be with me the, the rest of my life."

'Was he out of breath from this prolonged rerun of the proposal?' she wondered. Having compassion on this man who occupied all her thoughts and desires, she placed her hands on either side of his head, holding his attention with her eyes, mercifully telling him what he wanted to know.

"Yes, I love you. Yes, I'll marry you. Any other questions? If not, let's get some dinner going. I'm starved."

EPILOGUE

Antonia Brigatti-Hobson opened her eyes and lay there, anchored down by her husband's arm across her chest. His face was in her neck with his mouth near her left ear. He had the habit of mumbling indecipherable pieces of conversation during the night. She would often waken to his ramblings of something that must have bothered him that day.

Her life had changed so much since they had been married, a little over three years ago. Once in a while she would enumerate the ways in which their marriage had altered her. It's not that she regretted the modifications to her lifestyle, but she marvelled that she could have changed at all.

Partly because of her diminutive size, she had developed an assertive demeanor since junior high school. How else could she make her demands, oops, wishes be heard? Tough; she had to be tough. That is, until her meeting and falling in love with Gary Hobson. She tried to keep her 'untouchable' status intact, especially because he seemed to have had the power to penetrate her protective wall almost from the time they first met. When they were first introduced as protector and protected and she looked into his eyes, she had felt the warning signs immediately stir within her. His eyes! Who was this? The Great Mesmer? Don't look at his eyes directly, Brigatti! Keep averting your gaze. But where?

As a federal marshal, it was expected for her to act aloof. She did. Too many witnesses of the colleague nature had been present to expose her obvious attraction. She was safe. She was in control. For now.

The heart beating, thumping within her, felt as though it must have been visible to all around. Her throat was dry, so much so that she wanted to constantly clear it. The palms of her hands were clammy. What was this all about? She was no kid with a crush--or was she? It irritated her that her entire facade had disintegrated the minute she saw this person.

Toni had learned early on in her life that emotions worn openly were often ridiculed or trampled on. That seemed a good enough reason to make her want to keep her feelings in check. Whatever she may have felt would have to remain hidden. After all, it was just a job. In two days she would no longer see this man ever again.

How wrong she was. There was never a moment while she was near him that she didn't feel the excitement, the strange dizziness in being close to him. His man-odor, his aftershave, his deodorant, for crying out loud! If she could have wished the feeling away, she would have. Even without another soul knowing what was going on, she was embarrassed.

Was she coming down with something? Maybe that was it. Maybe that's why it felt as though she had a fever. And the shakes. Tremors? She wasn't shaking on the outside; the quaking was going on all through her insides. Would he notice?

Please, God, don't let him see what being in his proximity did to her.That night, on 'duty' in the loft, she had spent lying awake, thinking, listening to his breathing. Wishing. Stop that! She couldn't possibly be 'wishing.' She didn't even know him. Oh, please, let this night pass quickly.

To look back at that initial exposure to the man who was lying half on top of her now, she had to smile inwardly. How could she guess then that only a year or so later he would be snuggled next to her every night? How could she know that the excitement of being near him would never go away?

What had really changed for her? This was a question and game for her to 'count the ways.' She played it often, always marvelling when she did. What had changed? Indeed! Without putting the things in order of importance, she started with the list.

Well, for one thing, one change in her life was his clinging to her as though she was his pillow. He was used to curling up with a pillow in his arms. Now, she was that pillow. At first it was more than disconcerting that he usually had his arm over her and his left hand resting over her right breast. Sometimes she moved his arm in order to get up to use the bathroom. As soon as she was back in bed, his hand sought her out and rested itself in the same location. How long did it take for her to get used to this? She really never did.

She became used to his cat though and even went so far as to feed the furry little thing. Her allergic reaction to the animal kept the two of them from establishing more than a passing relationship. The cat came in for breakfast, then, without her objection, left for parts unknown, not reappearing again until the following day.She found it helpful to go downstairs and talk with Marissa whenever Gary was in a foul mood from dealing with some item in the paper.

Toni and Gary often went out on the paper's errands together to insure that all eventualities would be covered. It was exciting to her and her excitement seemed to revitalize Gary's outlook toward the paper's demands.

They could laugh. Together. Together was the key. No job is a labor when accompanied with laughter. Life is not really living unless saturated with laughter.

Toni had gone on a leave of absence from the CPD to take care of Gary before they were married. In fact, she handled the paper most of the time that he was recuperating. The leave of absence became extended until she finally resigned from the force entirely. Compared to the high that tending to the special edition of the Sun-Times generated, working for the CPD was a desk job.

Gary hadn't been comfortable, at least at first, with her 'retirement,' thinking that she was doing it for him only. Being with her on the 'saves,' seeing the joy she derived from preventing catastrophes, he came to believe that the separation from the police department was actually her willing choice. And, after seeing how efficient and quick-thinking she acted under pressure, he grew into accepting her assistance in the duties attached to receiving tomorrow's news a day in advance.

What else had changed for her? How about the feeling of always having her best friend with her? She said it to herself, always amazed at the truth of it. Best friends were the ideals of kids, weren't they? In the months between their engagement and their marriage, she found that there really were such things as 'best friends.' After their wedding, she found out that sometimes 'best friends' are true lovers as well.

When they first became aware that their relationship needed expanding, they began discovering that they had some things in their beliefs and lives that could never be in agreement. Those things didn't disappear, but they became so unimportant that it would have seemed so. The things they did have in common, other than their sexual attraction, were so many. The paper was certainly a primary mutual interest. But their sexual attraction was a real thing, something solid, sure.

She often saw him looking out of the corners of his eyes at her, admiringly. If she dared return his look, all was lost. There would be no dinner, no movies, no nothing until after their hunger for something else was satisfied.

As she lay there, watching her husband sleep, she had the luxury of observing him, his partially open mouth almost touching her neck. His breath hot on her skin. She felt his heart, the heart that she knew she possessed, beating rhythmically, as he leaned against her bare shoulder. One of his legs was crossed over her legs. His eyes twitched and she became aware that he knew he was being watched.

His mouth met her neck with a kiss where his lips rested. His left hand moved to her right shoulder to draw her body closer as he murmured a 'good morning.' Giving her a soft and brushing kiss, he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

She could tell when he returned to her that he had brushed his teeth. Toni pretended that she didn't notice, nor did she indicate that she knew the significance of it. Instead, she rolled to her side and closed her eyes as if in sleep, allowing him to 'awaken' her.

Oh, the games people play. Some animals have elaborate mating rituals, mate, then move on to another conquest, repeating the rituals over and over. Some animals merely sense the readiness of the female to conceive and perform the mating act in obedience to nature. Humans take a little lesson from here and from there, but it all ends the same way.

Sex was new to Toni even if it wasn't to Gary. He'd been married before. He knew what to do. Thank God. She didn't have to pretend about her not knowing about men. Of course, she'd had the required courses in sex education. In fact, it was so......interesting that she bothered to do extracurricular reading in that direction.

None of it prepared her for the first time, though. Nowhere in the manuals did it couple the act of love with love for the person to whom one was married. The 'ritual' as it might have been called, began with the familiar kissing. Even the familiar became new as she fully realized where its feverish intensity would lead. He had progressed slowly, lovingly, allowing her to become at ease with his overtures. The kissing had intensified to such an extent at one point that she had become heated enough to participate in the stripping off of each other's clothes, in the exchange of the erotic touching a couple uses to raise the heat, culminating, finally, in the contortions of the actual love dance.

She remembered his amused comment afterward about her being a quick study. They stayed together, embracing as if they had just begun that which was over. Over? Did she think it was over? Toni only had a very short time to bemoan the fact, to herself, that they had 'finished' when he had undertaken the responsibility of allowing her to perfect her talents. Thinking how generous he was to take the time and 'effort' to teach her by having them practice their skills, she threw herself totally and uninhibitedly into the 'work.' Is that what she told herself? Nah. She had no problem identifying lust when she saw it, that is, especially when she saw it in herself.

From their efforts in demonstrating their love for each other, she was certain that she would be pregnant immediately. Would she be willing, she asked herself, to bear his child or children? The desire that she possessed regarding him made her want the experience and the evidence of their love.Why three years had passed without a pregnancy, she had no idea. They both had the fertility tests, the whole gamut of them. It wasn't an experience she enjoyed--and there was that humiliating element, at least at times, for him. She had to admit that he was a good sport about it. A good sport? His desire for children was so strong, he would have gone to Mars if it would have produced a baby.

Toni could see his disappointment as each month passed without any results. Oh, he tried to conceal it, but she could read him. For a while it bothered her to know just how much it bothered him. She made an effort to assure him that even if they were never to produce a son or daughter, it wouldn't, couldn't affect how she felt towards him. Why, even watching him eat made her hungry for him.

Marissa and Toni had many discussions in which they could discuss their mutual friend. She was an intent listener as Marissa related some of the parts of Gary's life that Toni had no previous knowledge of.

Certainly some of it could have been left unknown. It chilled her to think that Gary had seen his own obituary in the paper. How would she feel if it had been her reading that she had died? One thing she wouldn't feel was the need to investigate the where and how of the predicted event. She wouldn't have explored the exact location. She wouldn't have attempted a 'save' at that very site.

She was glad, though, that she didn't have to be present when the rescue team was searching for signs, sounds, anything that would indicate life beneath the rubble of the collapsed building. To hear the fire captain call for a coroner.....the thought of it chilled her. She ached inside to think of his believing that he was supposed to die there, under that pile of debris.

Thank you, Lucius Snow. Thank you for making Gary see the error in his reasoning. Thank you for convincing him that he had more living to do.Toni was glad that she wasn't the one, like Marissa and Chuck, who had to wait at Gary's bedside for him to regain consciousness after he had been struck by the car. He had been on a mission to save someone else when the car knocked him to the roadbed. Seeing him lie there helpless, well, she was glad she hadn't been there.

Did she say that she enjoyed hearing about this part of Gary's past? It was some of the other stories that she most enjoyed. She loved hearing about Chuck depanting Gary in front of scores of people, especially when one of those present possessed a camera. And she couldn't help when she gave a hearty laugh as Marissa told of the conversation teasing him about what appeared to be a lollipop tattoo on his butt! Poor Gary! Her poor Gary! That time she wished she had been there.In a way, she wished, really wished, that she could have been there when the Brothers Carpathian performed their circus act to rescue him from the catwalk in the old theatre. Not that she wanted to see him having to suffer through the days of no food or water or.....anything, but she would have paid to see the look on his face when he had been told to "Get ready to dismount" from being perched upon one of the brothers' shoulders. Crumb had told her about the utter terror in his expression as Gary had become part of the act as he was dropped into the arms of the other brothers.

Depending upon whom it was doing the narratives, she had a pretty thorough picture of Gary painted for her. Armstrong had described his view of the devastation Gary had gone through when Jeremiah had slipped from his grasp to his death. That story had many facets when relayed to her through the eyes of those who had been there in his recovery days.

Her husband had gone through a great deal of suffering, anxiety, regret, and sorrow because of the paper. To balance it all, he had also been witness to the blessed relief of parents being reunited with their children, of having new hope flourish in the hearts of the despairing, and the joy, the ecstatic joy, of assisting at the birth of twins.

Now she had possession of the modest hero of Chicago. She had the pleasure of discovering more about her spouse every day. Being up close to the subject provided a lot of the information, but she had the strange honor of being able to have what seemed like half of Chicago teaching her about her very own Gary Hobson. They all knew him. At least they had all met him or had seen him at one time or another. And yet, few people knew about the paper.

It amused her to think about the mystery that he represented. What did people think? What kind of impression did he leave? Some would-be victims would be mildly irritated with him--she felt that way at times herself. Some were furiously angry, or frustrated, or any number of negative emotions possible to feel towards someone interferring in their lives. Then there were those who were overjoyed at the results he attained. What would they think if they only knew?

This unlikely looking, dark-haired, compassionate-eyed man would put his world, his life, on hold to step into theirs and save them in almost miraculous ways. He might wait around afterwards, if for only a second, and inquire about their welfare, then he would turn and disappear from their lives. Their memory of him would eventually fade into one of those 'saving angel' stories everyone has heard at one time or another.

If he weren't there, in her arms, right now, if she hadn't allowed this sometimes bumbling, stammering, unassuming person to break down her barriers, she would have categorized him in a somewhat less than favorable light and forgotten about him too.Paul Armstrong had been at a complete loss for words when he was told, actually found out, about their pending marriage. What could he say? What COULD he say? Toni's confirmation of the rumor had stunned him into silence. He did find words to congratulate her, but the words he didn't say were speaking for themselves. She knew his opinion of Gary was not all that good. But, then, what had he seen to allow him to have a different one?

Holding her husband, nesting in his arms: this was what life was all about. Hers anyway. Waking up in the morning with him, looking forward to his face across the breakfast table as together they perused the paper, even doing the household chores with him at an arm's distance, who would have thought that Antonia Brigatti could have felt so fulfilled, so, so complete? To her, it was as though the old Brigatti had been transformed, finally, into the butterfly that fluttered so delicately, that shone so beautifully in the sun, that could see life from a distance and choose to merge with it.

The question of children was unanswered. That was the only emptiness they shared. How do two people 'share' an emptiness? Neither of them spoke of it for fear of causing hurt, but each of them felt the hurt anyway--for the other. For herself, Toni wanted a child. She yearned to present the small bundle representing each of them into her husband's arms, to see the expression on his face as he gently received the tiny package. She wanted to literally feel the awefilled moment of his acceptance of fatherhood.

Toni had watched him in amusement when a smile filled his face. She had trembled as she watched his face when he relived the assisting at the birth of the babies in the elevator. He had such emotion! They had become one in being able to convey their feelings to each other. She had felt the horrible soul-deadening anguish of the moment when Jeremiah slipped away to his death. He told her about that day. Even now the memory could produce moisture in his eyes.

She sat close and held him as he disclosed how he felt when he thought about the day at that prison. About feeling that he was to blame for his best friend's torture and death at the hands of his former bartender. About the thoughts running through his mind as he was being tortured himself by the sadistic Stan. All the while, during his conscious time under Stan's control, he suffered to the depths of his being over what he thought had happened to Chuck. Toni suffered with him in the retelling.

She wondered how he had the strength to hold out, to go on. That was in the past. One of her jobs would be to, not make him forget all that, who could? Her job, she felt, was to give him the future that would allow the past to be filed away as memories. Categorized, alphabetized, filed-away memories. They were there, but not present to eat away at his spirit.

Gary had fallen asleep in her arms, a contented expression relaxing his features into the youthful lover she cherished. The sun's early rays had filled the loft, seeming to highlight his features. It was nearly time for the alarm to announce the new day. She impulsively began softly, playfully kissing his face. At first she didn't allow her lips to fully touch his face, but only flit and glide over it. The time was getting closer for the cat's announcing call; the nearing of the moment caused her to get more serious about her task of awakening her spouse.

Nothing is so frustrating, yet so enticing as having someone almost doing something, something that you like. So it was, always was, when she would almost kiss him. Without opening his eyes he murmured and pulled her so close she could hardly breathe. He rolled over on top of her, looking intently into the death-defying depths of her brown eyes. Before more could be attempted, the radio alarm and the cat began their beckoning.

He pushed up from her and, still with his eyes attached to hers, said in his morning voice, playfully, "Now that was a cruel thing to do."

How she loved being married to this man!

The End of 'A Smoking Candle'

Email the author: arcane@nethere.com
 

Back Home to McGinty's

Stories by Title

Stories by Author