Desperate Times (6 page)

Jimmy paced the floor, not knowing what to
do.
Where was she? Why wasn’t she here?
He agonized over
these thoughts. He weighed things out in his mind. She knew what
his plan was and where he was headed. She’d been there a few times
last summer. The money was gone from the table, so she had the
means to get there. He had her things packed and they were loaded
in the back of the Mack. Ken and Patty were waiting for him. Ken
had said with or without her. That single sentence burned in his
mind. Ken had trusted Jimmy with the truck and to show up. He’d
given him the money to buy supplies and was undoubtedly waiting for
Jimmy to roll in so he could load up whatever else they might need.
Jimmy knew what his decision must be: he had to leave. He didn’t
want to, but deep down he knew that waiting for Paula was foolish.
He had to face the truth—she wasn’t here.

Jimmy snubbed out his cigarette in the
ashtray and walked to the front door, surveying his home for the
very last time. He nodded to himself. He was ready. He had
responsibilities and he’d made a commitment. He twisted the lock
and walked out the door into the afternoon sunshine.

And there was Bill. He sat red-eyed on his
steps with his hands in his lap. Jimmy didn’t see Tina’s car and
wondered where she’d gone. He didn’t have to wait long to find
out.

The Dow Jones market peaked at 381 in 1929
and bottomed out at 42 in 1932, dropping a staggering 89% in just
three years’ time. The market would not reach the 381 mark again
until 1955. During the week of the Black Tuesday crash of 1929, the
market lost ten times the amount of the annual federal budget.

“She’s gone,” said Bill. “She dropped off
Cindy and said that she was leaving town. She didn’t say where she
was going, or who she was leaving town with, which is just like
her. She just got in her car and drove away.”

All Jimmy could do was shake his head. He’d
hoped that Tina was still there keeping Bill occupied. He wanted to
avoid what was going to be one very awkward goodbye. Jimmy had no
choice but to leave Bill and his problems behind. He had to get
moving. The Dahlgren’s were waiting on him.

“So, you’re really leaving?” Bill asked in a
quavering voice.

“For a while,” said Jimmy, feeling the guilt
build inside his chest.

“I wish I had friends like that,” Bill said,
his bottom lip in a toddler’s pout. “You don’t think Mr. Dahlgren
would have room for two more, do you? I hate to ask, Jimmy. I
really do. I’m scared man, scared to death. We have a tent. We
could sleep in that. I’d do it for you; you know I would. They
won’t even know we’re there. Please, Jimmy, please?”

There it was. Bill had let the elephant out
of the living room and it was now trampling on Jimmy’s conscience.
Jimmy looked down at his boots trying to find the right words. This
was hard for him. He didn’t want to abandon him, yet what could he
do? Bill wasn’t a bad person; he just liked to listen to himself
talk and got under people’s skin. Still, he was handy to have
around. You could give the man a screwdriver and a couple wrenches
and he could fix darn near anything. And when he wasn’t feeling
sorry for himself, Bill could be the life of the party. He had a
story for every occasion, even if he tended to stretch the truth
more than just a little. Bill had his faults, there was no doubting
that. Jimmy knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the easy thing to do,
but it was the right thing to do. As much as he hated the thought
of it, he knew he had to at least ask Ken if they could tag along.
Bill was right about one thing—Jimmy knew that he’d do the same for
him.

“Give me a minute,” Jimmy said, taking a deep
breath. “I’ll call Ken. My cell isn’t working, but I think I can
get him on the land line. I’m not making any promises, Bill. Do you
understand me? If Ken says no, there’s nothing I can do about it,
alright?”

Bill’s eyes welled up, and he suddenly held
his meaty arms out and hugged Jimmy. “Thanks, man,” he said in a
choked voice. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down. I just knew
it.”

Jimmy slapped Bill on the back, not quite
sure what to do. Men didn’t hug in his world. Not unless it was at
a funeral and even then it was uncomfortable. Bill wasn’t letting
go and his grip tightened into a bear hug until he actually lifted
Jimmy off the ground.

“Okay, okay,” wheezed Jimmy. “You can put me
down.”

“Right, right,” said Bill, releasing his grip
on Jimmy and stepping back. His face was wet with tears, but he was
smiling broadly. “Thanks, man,” he repeated, wiping his face with
his hands.

Jimmy nodded. The way Bill was looking at him
was creeping him out; he wasn’t used to all of this affection. “I’m
going inside to call Ken and I’ll be out in a few minutes. I really
don’t know what he’s going to say. I can’t promise anything, Bill.
You understand that, right? You might want to clean up and change
your clothes, just in case.”

“Sure, sure,” said Bill, his face still
beaming with that silly smile.

Jimmy nodded and turned, feeling Bill’s eyes
on him until he was safely back inside his empty trailer. He paced
the floor, trying to think of the right way to put this to Ken. He
had to sell him on the idea of Bill tagging along. He would use
Bill’s skills as a handyman to begin with, but beyond that he
wasn’t quite sure of what to say. They’d met a few times; it wasn’t
like he was inviting a complete stranger. That was true. The
problem was that the two men were polar opposites. Ken was a
businessman, accustomed to giving orders. He was very structured
and things had to be just so in his little world. There weren’t
many gray areas with Ken; he was a black and white guy. He’d worked
hard for what he had and expected others to do the same.

And while Jimmy thought about the world of
the Dahlgrens, he understood that they lived in a world beyond his
comprehension. And perhaps the same could be said in reverse. He
knew that they cared for him; their generous invitation had more
than proven that. Still, for the past year, Jimmy had suffered
working only thirty hour weeks. He wasn’t making ends meet. The
pile of unpaid bills and disconnection notices were growing on his
small desk like a cancer. The Dahlgrens had seemed oblivious to
that fact. They must’ve known. On some level they had to have known
he was sinking.

“Where are you, Paula
?”
he asked
himself. The very thought of her out there, somewhere, took the
breath out of him. Where had she gone? Why wasn’t she here?
Couldn’t she at least call him? Was that too much to ask? No, it
wasn’t, Jimmy thought bitterly. She was acting like a spoiled
child, and he felt a sudden surge of anger. Jimmy cocked his right
fist back and thought about putting it through the wall. By sheer
force of will, he stopped short of doing so. A broken hand wouldn’t
do, not now. He sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. Why
did he let her do this to him? How could she make him so
irrational, so damn crazy? He didn’t know. He pulled his cell phone
from his pocket and dialed her number. He couldn’t help himself; he
just had to know that she was all right.

Again, there was nothing. Not even static.
Jimmy nearly threw his phone across the room. He got up and tried
his home phone and was shocked to hear a dial tone.
Please God,
just one more favor?
He got up and went to the desk, retrieving
the rolodex and looking up Paula’s parents’ phone number. It wasn’t
a number he knew by heart; he couldn’t even remember the last time
he’d called there. There it was—Peterson, Mom and Dad. She had to
be there. Jimmy thought about them and felt the anger return. They
lived an hour south in the affluent Minneapolis suburb of Edina.
The sprawling old family home had no fewer than eight bathrooms,
complete with servants and a guest cottage. They’d had big plans
for Paula and they blamed Jimmy for spoiling them. They’d said as
much and the minute she’d left Concordia College and moved in with
him, they’d cut off her generous allowance. He hadn’t asked her to
leave school and hadn’t dreamed she’d do such a thing. Still,
they’d blamed him. One day she’d simply shown up, her sleek Mustang
loaded to the hilt with her belongings. Jimmy was working overtime
back then and while he was far from rich, he was comfortable in a
blue collar way. Jimmy’s world was utterly foreign to her and there
had been some growing pains. Lately, the little disagreements had
blossomed into huge arguments. Most of their fights had to do with
money.

She has to be there
, Jimmy thought
bitterly. He slowly dialed the number from the rolodex and prayed
for it to connect.

“Peterson residence,” answered a snobbish
voice Jimmy recognized as Carl’s, the Peterson’s butler.
Thank
you,
thought Jimmy.

“Hey, Carl, its Jimmy, how’s it going?” Jimmy
asked, swallowing hard. He couldn’t stand the arrogant little man
and he knew the feeling was mutual.

“Mr. Logan, what a pleasant surprise,” said
Carl, stiffly. “What can I do for you?”

“Is Paula there? She left this morning and I
haven’t heard from here. I’m worried about her.”

“Is that so?” asked Carl.

“Just tell me, Carl. Please? You don’t have
to put her on the phone. Just tell me if she’s there,” Jimmy
pleaded, hating himself for doing so.

“I wouldn’t know,” said Carl, sounding
pleased. “I’ve been out shopping all day and just got in when you
phoned.”

“Could you please check for me?” Jimmy asked,
angrily.

“I’m quite busy at the moment. You might try
back in an hour.”

“Don’t make me drive down there, Carl. I
don’t have an hour! Do you understand me? I’m not playing a game
here. I just need to know if she’s there. Now set the damn
telephone down and go take a look!”

“Temper, temper,” replied Carl, his voice
sounding amused by Jimmy’s threat.

“Do it! Do it now!” Jimmy screamed into the
phone. He’d lost all control and began to pace madly back and
forth. He would drive down there and in his mind he was already
making the arrangements.

Carl must’ve known heard that in his voice.
“Just a moment,” he replied smugly. “I’ll see if Miss Paula is
here.”

“Thank you,” hissed Jimmy.

A minute passed, then another. Jimmy knew the
house was large, but there were countless other telephones in
countless other rooms. He growled like a mad dog. He couldn’t help
himself. He couldn’t remember feeling so angry, so helpless.
Another minute passed and just as Jimmy was about to throw the
phone out the window and head to Edina, Stanley Peterson picked up
on the other end.

“Yes?” he asked in his thin, reedy voice.

“Mr. Peterson, its Jimmy. I’m worried about
Paula. Would she happen to be there?”

There was a long pause on the line, and Jimmy
heard Stanley ask for someone, perhaps Carl, to leave the room and
give him some privacy. Finally, he cleared his throat and answered.
“Yes, she’s here.”

“Thank God,” Jimmy said, feeling relief wash
over him.

“Now listen, Jimmy,” Stanley Peterson
practically whispered into the telephone. “We’ve had a long chat
and she’s staying with us. She’s safe here. I hear you’re heading
north? How nice. We understand completely. A trailer home is no
place to stay in dangerous times such as these.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“I’m afraid not. She isn’t up to it. She did
say that she’d call you in a couple of days. I do hope you’ll honor
her wishes. This is terribly difficult for her.”

“Of course,” Jimmy said, feeling very alone.
“I understand. She’ll have to call the house number in Ely. She has
it saved on her phone. There doesn’t seem to be any cell service
right now.”

“I’ll give her the message,” replied Mr.
Peterson. “Thank you, Jimmy. And good luck to you. Be careful out
there. Paula cares a great deal for you.”

“Thank you,” Jimmy said quietly, but the
connection had been broken and Stanley Peterson was gone. Jimmy was
puzzled by Mr. Peterson’s tone of voice. He’d never talked to him
with something so close to warmth. Jimmy had always thought of him
as a cold man who used his inherited money as a weapon. Yet he’d
been kind on the telephone, even gracious. Somehow, it made him
feel a little better about the situation. Paula was back in their
world which Jimmy thought would hardly miss a beat as everything
around them came crashing down.

That thought would prove to be wrong.

Jimmy peered out the window, and his jaw
dropped. There was Bill, dressed in a busy-looking button-up shirt,
khaki shorts and flip-flop sandals. He wore a silly hat that made
him look like a senior citizen in Florida. He jogged along carrying
his fishing poles and a cooler toward the truck. Cindy sat hunched
over on a patio chair, dressed from head to toe in black. Jimmy had
watched her grow up—a pretty, vibrant girl, who’d found Goth the
moment her parents had divorced. Jimmy knew that beneath that black
studded shell was a sweet young lady who had merely lost her
way.

He knew he had to call Ken.

He couldn’t put it off any longer. He picked
up the receiver and set it down again. “Damn it,” he cursed. Why
did this have to be so difficult? And suddenly it came to him. It
didn’t have to be difficult. Not yet, at least. He’d tell Bill that
everything was fine and that they were more than welcome to stay
with them up at the lake. Bill and Cindy could follow in Bill’s
Honda and they’d be to Ken’s place in town in ten minutes. He’d
tell Ken that he couldn’t leave them. If Ken called his bluff, then
they’d come back here and take their chances. Friends didn’t leave
their friends at times like these, thought Jimmy. That was it. He’d
made his plan and was going to stick with it. Jimmy thought it was
what his own father would’ve wanted him to do.