Chapter 4
We’re All Mad Here We Go Again
TRE
Carson turns to face me, trading my view of her back for a face masked by shadow, but I can imagine her green eyes flaring in anger.
“Did you seriously drive here? In your own car? God. You really are a dumbass, Dickie. Good luck with that,” she says, scorn dripping from her words.
“Yeah? How’d you get here?”
“Magic.”
And then she disappears into the forest and the night.
I stand there, staring out at the darkness, frozen in confusion.
Eventually, I give my head a little shake.
Curiosity overwhelms me, and I walk to the base of what used to be a support column.
The steel ends in jagged edges along a roughly horizontal line.
Feet away, the bottom of the toppled column looks similar, lying in the dirt.
After admiring Carson’s handiwork, I decide it’s time to flee the scene of the very visible, very loud crime. I stride to the silo, collect my tools and the empty sugar bag, then jog back to my car.
“Did I drive here? In my own car?” I mutter as I load everything into the trunk. “Of course I did. This is the top of a mountain. Does she think I hiked up here in the middle of the night with all my equipment?”
I settle into the driver’s seat and crank the diesel engine, listening to the soft hum as I let it warm up for a moment.
“And what’s wrong with my car? The eighty-five Mercedes is rock solid, and there’re no electronics in it for anybody to track. Drive my car…” I grumble as I carefully pull out of the tree line and onto the road, then make my way down the mountain.
How did I not know she was playing them, playing all of us? Was she planning this the whole time? She argued with me about these projects!
I grew up around construction sites and learned all kinds of useful info, but nobody ever taught me about explosives.
Did she make the bomb, or is she working with someone else? If so, where were they? How many people around here are ready to sabotage these developments?
There’s too much I don’t know. If someone does this wrong, they could cause a lot of damage to the environment or get themselves killed. If they screw this up, I might not get other opportunities.
Most of all, I don’t understand Fiona Carson. That needs to change.
“I have to say, I love the new hair.”
“Aw, thank you, Tre,” Carol replies, beaming.
She shakes her head to make the ends of her blond hair swing, accentuating the new bob.
“You’re too sweet. I haven’t done it like this since I was your age, but I was ready for something different.
And with these summers getting hotter all the time, it’ll make everything easier. ”
“Well, it suits you. It frames your face perfectly.”
“Mr. White,” a woman’s voice interrupts our conversation from the doorway beside the reception desk. “You can come back now.”
I flash Carol a grin, then get up slowly, cradling my left arm against my chest. After passing the nurse, a short woman with light brown skin and hair so black it shines with a reflection of the bright lighting, she directs me to exam room two.
I’m lucky enough not to need to visit the doctor outside of rare injuries, like today, so I’ve never met her.
I immediately take the opportunity to ingratiate myself, starting with my ‘I can be your best friend’ smile.
“Hi. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Tre.”
She frowns slightly, looking at her clipboard. “It says ‘Richard’ here.”
“Ah, yeah. That’s true, but I go by Tre.” I turn up the smile intensity.
She sets the clipboard on the edge of the small computer desk and writes a note on the top page, completely oblivious to my most potent friend-making tool.
“How do you get Tre from Richard? Don’t people usually go by Rich or Rick? Even Dick, for some reason?”
My smile falters when she says Dick. “My family thought it was important to name all of their kids after themselves. I’m the third. When I was a teenager, I didn’t want to just be like my dad and granddad, so I came up with Tre to have my own name. The third, Tre…” I trail off lamely.
“I see. Nice to meet you. I’m Nurse Machado. Please step on the scale.” She delivers all of these statements with equal amounts of absolutely zero enthusiasm.
Nurse Machado perfunctorily measures and records my vitals without further discussion. When it’s time for her to apply the blood pressure cuff, I seize the opportunity to try connecting again.
“Ooh,” I groan with an exaggerated grimace on my face. “You’ll have to use my right arm. I can’t get the sleeve myself.” I point at my injured left arm, pressed stiffly across my torso. I rarely need to appeal to sympathy to make friends, but it is an effective conversational opener.
“Of course. Your form says you came in this morning because of shoulder pain. What, exactly, seems to be wrong with your shoulder?”
“I can move it side to side or forward and back a little bit, but if I try to rotate it, it feels like I’m being stabbed.”
Nurse Machado points at a small poster on the wall with cartoon faces showing differing expressions above the numbers zero through ten. “Have a look at this chart. Using this scale, what number would you rate your pain?”
It doesn’t make any sense to me because how do I know if the pain hurts eight amounts of pain? What am I supposed to compare it to? Is my eight the same as her eight?
“Seven, I guess.”
She’s switched from writing on the clipboard to typing my info into the computer. “When did this begin?”
Obviously, I can’t talk about Fiona pushing me down a mountain. I spent a while yesterday considering what story to tell. It needs to be believable, but not something anyone will care enough to follow up on. Simple is best.
“I was out hiking this weekend and slipped on some loose scree. Landed right on it. It was dumb. I should have been paying more attention.” That should probably work. “Do you get out hiking much?” I’ll find a way to connect. I always do.
Over the clicking of the keyboard, she says, “I haven’t had the spare time since I moved here to start this job.”
“Oh, did—”
There’s a knock on the door, then it opens.
Fiona’s tall form strides into my peripheral vision.
Right when I get an opening to be friendly!
I turn toward the door, locking eyes with her for the first time in weeks, and I literally see her in a new light.
Bright green eyes shine in her soft-featured face, accentuated by chestnut-brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail ending just at the collar of her white coat.
I came here to talk to Fiona, but now I’m at a loss for words.
She focuses her attention on Nurse Machado. They quietly converse for a moment before the nurse hands over the clipboard and exits the room, closing the door behind her.
“Why are you here, Dickie?”
Fiona’s irritated voice pulls me back. “I, uh, thought we should talk.”
“When have I ever given you the impression that I want to talk to you?”
“Yeah, I know… Look, I’m not here to chat. I want to talk about this weekend. About what we both intend to do around here.”
“There’s no we, Dickie. If I decide to do something, it has nothing to do with you. If that’s all, you can go.”
“Don’t be like that. How’s it going to look if you’re here for five seconds and then leave? Aren’t you supposed to examine and treat your patients? That takes a while.”
“Yeah, I do have to examine and treat patients, Dick. Real ones, who actually need my help. Which you’re preventing me from doing by being here, wasting my time. How did you even get an appointment for today? My schedule isn’t that open.”
“Are you kidding? Carol loves me. Plus, no one wants the diner closed because I can’t use my arms, so she found a spot for me.”
“That’s great. I see you’ve really grown up since high school. You’ve gone from bullying to lying and manipulating people. Just go home.”
“Lying and manipulating? Look who’s talking, Ms. Pro-development! But, see? That’s what we need to talk about. We can move past this and do some good.”
“You have no idea what my problem with you is,” Fiona snaps. “Is that it? Is that pitch why you came to harass me at work and waste my time?”
“I’m not… That isn’t… I wanted to talk,” I eventually mutter.
“Great, eloquent as always, Dickie. Well, we talked, I said get lost, and now you should go do that.”
“What about my shoulder?”
“Right, your injury.” Fiona rolls her eyes hard enough for me to hear it.
“Yeah. My shoulder hurts after somebody pushed me down a mountain! Ask the nurse. She put it all in my file, so it’s real.”
“Please. You can stop pretending. I was there. You were clumsy and fell. After I picked you up off the ground, you were perfectly fine. Your shoulder wasn’t a problem when you were following me like a puppy, getting in the way while I was busy.”
I open my mouth to respond, but she continues, “I have actual patients to see, and you’re keeping me from them.
I’ll give you a sling to walk out of here with.
You have until the end of my ‘exam’ to say whatever you have to say.
Then you’re going to leave and not bother me again.
I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t want to sit around and listen to you whine about Henley and Montank.
I’ve had more than enough of that. I want you to forget you ever saw me this weekend. ”
She begins moving my left arm in various directions.
“Okay, I get why taking up an appointment can be a problem for people who need your help. I won’t do it again.
But the way you’re reacting is exactly why I needed to do it now.
If I tried talking to you at Mal’s or when you’re hanging out with Ewan, you wouldn’t let me get two words in.
“Our meeting this weekend changed my perspective—on you and on what’s happening around here. I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass. I misunderstood you, and I had no idea what you were really like. I still don’t, but I’ll stop being a jerk.
“Now that I know we have these shared interests—and we’re both willing to act on them—I think we should figure out ways to help each other. Even if you don’t like me, imagine what we can accomplish if we work together.”
“I don’t have to imagine. I already accomplished everything on my own.
And I didn’t drive my car there when I did it.
You’ve made yourself a suspect, and you’re so effective you had a whole crowbar to take out a building site.
The fact that I can’t stand you is just a bonus.
I have no reason to work with you because you’re a liability,” she says as she finishes wrapping my arm across my chest in the sling without even looking up from her hands.
Shit! This is not how this was supposed to happen.
“Okay, you think I can’t bring anything to the table?
Unlike you, I’m friends with most of the people around here, plus I run the one diner in town where everybody loves to eat.
Between what people tell me and what I overhear, I learn everything worth knowing before it’s ever public.
Hell, I know all kinds of stuff that people aren’t supposed to.
How’s work at the development sites progressing?
When are shifts going to be heavy on people?
When is construction going to be paused? ”
I lower my voice, even though we’re alone.
“You can get bombs, but what else do you have planned? I grew up on building sites. I was supposed to take over the family business. I know how work gets done and what equipment they need, which means I know how to wreck those things. You think you’re the only one who actually accomplished something that night?
That just proves how effective I am. I ruined their entire supply of cement, which they won’t even realize until it’s too late, and you had no idea—just like them.
I had multiple other targets lined up before you interrupted, but you think I was just walking around with a pry bar.
“I have plenty to offer. Clearly you do, too. Let’s meet up and talk it over.
If you still don’t think we can help each other after that, then we go back to how it is now, no harm done.
” I cross my fingers and wait. If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what else to say. Did I blow my only chance? Idiot!
She’s typing notes on the computer, her back to me, when she asks, “If we did meet to talk, what would your plan be? I already told you, they’re going to assume you’re responsible based on your stupid outbursts.
You know they’ll look into you. I’ve crafted a reputation so I won’t be a suspect.
I don’t want to be associated with you, and us suddenly spending time together would be a major red flag for any cop or corporate guy investigating what happened. ”
“Yeah, that’s fine. That makes sense. I was going to work a double tomorrow, but with this,” I shrug my shoulder in its sling, “I’ll get my evening shift covered and nobody will give it a second thought.
My apartment is above the diner. After you’re done at the clinic, you come to my place.
I can whip up some food while we plan. Consider it an apology for being an ass so often. ”
Fiona sits at the computer for a moment in silence, then finally spins around to face me. Once again, those emerald eyes pierce right into me, and I almost forget what I was saying.
“Dinner at your place? I almost thought you were for real. I wouldn’t go on a date with you if—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. No, not a date,” I interject.
“We could meet in the middle of the night, if you’d rather, but I do prefer getting some sleep.
We both have to work in the morning, which means waiting until after the diner closes would be dumb.
I figured if you came by right after you’re done here, it would be easy to explain why you’re downtown, if you needed to.
After work is when people eat dinner. I’m just trying to be helpful.
If you don’t want a free meal…” I trail off, hoping to change her mind.
She’s silent for several seconds. “Alright, fine. It’s not the worst plan I’ve ever heard. Unlike driving your own car to a… hike. Tuesday night,” Fiona grudgingly agrees, then picks up the clipboard and walks to the door.
As she grabs the handle, I call out, “Oh, one more thing.”