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Until the Deep Water Stills: An Internet-enhanced Novel
Until the Deep Water Stills: An Internet-enhanced Novel
Until the Deep Water Stills: An Internet-enhanced Novel
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Until the Deep Water Stills: An Internet-enhanced Novel

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The lives of Katherine, Jayce, Bryan and Faith converge toward a tragic event as each struggles to decipher the intricacies of love lost and love found. Each discovers in their own way that love is the living core of human existence and that how we love defines who we are. Unique fusion of a print novel with an optional online companion featuring text, images and professional audio recordings.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 18, 2010
ISBN9781458099594
Until the Deep Water Stills: An Internet-enhanced Novel
Author

Michael Robert Dyet

I am The Metaphor Guy. Novelist, closet philosopher, chronicler of life's mysteries – all through the lens of metaphor. Author of "HUNTING MUSKIE: RITES OF PASSAGE" - A short story collection coming in October 2017 from Blue Denim Press. Author of "UNTIL THE DEEP WATER STILLS: AN INTERNET-ENHANCED NOVEL" – traditional print novel with a unique and groundbreaking online companion featuring text, imagery and audio recordings. Double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards: 1) Canada East Region winner 2) Writers in the Sky Award for the Best Creative Writing of the Year. View the online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Michael's short story "Incorrigible" is published in Canadian Voices, Volume 2, An Anthology of Prose and Poetry by Emerging Canadian Writers. Author of "METAPHORS OF LIFE JOURNAL aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm" located at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Metaphors of Life Journal categories: Shifting Winds, Sudden Light, Deep Dive, Songs of Nature, Random Acts of Metaphor.

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    Until the Deep Water Stills - Michael Robert Dyet

    Preface

    There are two things about life of which I am certain. The first is that at some point everyone faces a crisis of faith – faith in one’s self, one’s belief system or the justness of those happenings that are beyond our power to control. The second is that our fate is inextricably wound up in the lives and actions of those people who occupy the inner circle of our life whether we choose them to be there or not.

    Until the Deep Water Stills is entirely a work of fiction. But it is rooted in and testifies to these two unalterable truths. It also proclaims what I have come to believe – that love is the living core of human existence and that how we love defines who we are.

    Until the Deep Water Stills is by design layered, intricate and deep much the same way our lives are. You may go as deep as you choose into these layers. It is not necessary to penetrate all of them to follow the plot. But the deeper you go the more you will find. It is my hope that what you find will ring true with you.

    Life as we know it in the 21st century is profoundly influenced by the Internet. As I write this preface 1.5 billion people around the world are Internet users. It seems logical – and even essential – therefore that Until the Deep Water Stills exist both on the printed page and on the web.

    Each chapter of this Internet-enhanced novel has a corresponding entry on my website http://mdyetmetaphor.com/blog/. Once again, you do not have to read the diary entries to follow the plot. But if you choose to you’ll go deeper into the fabric of each character and understand them better.

    So dive in as deep as you dare. The deeper you go the more the deep water stills.

    **********

    Part One

    ebb tide

    Love is the wind, the tide, the waves, the sunshine. Its power is incalculable; it is many horse-power. It never ceases, it never slacks; it can move the globe without a resting-place; it can warm without fire; it can feed without meat; it can clothe without garments; it can shelter without roof; it can make a paradise within which will dispense with a paradise without.

    Henry David Thoreau

    "and do you ache to set your love free

    to ride the crescent moon?

    ride it like a streaking star

    on this leeward side of madness.

    in the refining grace, of wild improbability

    to such a landing place as me?"

    **********

    Chapter One

    The Thin Line

    SHATTERING glass rescued Katherine from her dream. Aftershocks mingled in her half-awake brain with the elusive church bells now retracted seven years into the past. Jayce’s arm had knocked a water glass off the night table as he shifted in bed. How strangely prophetic, she thought, that he should fall into complicity with her dream. He did not hear the crash just as he did not hear the bells in her dream.

    Three nights running she had had this dream conjured from the gathering storm within her. Standing outside the Cathedral Church of St. James with a wine glass in her hand as the tintinnabulation of carillon bells swirled around her. The bell ringer in the tower, it seemed, had gone quite mad. Jayce was standing beside her with his arm circling the waist of her wedding gown. The pulse of life within him was tangible and yet he was inanimate to her. So deep within himself she could scarcely hear his breathing. The bells continued their raucous clanging until all the guests had left. It was then that Grace – his twin literally and figuratively – reached out, took the wine glass from her hand and tossed it in the air. Katherine watched it tumble end over end but always awoke before it hit the ground.

    only a dream. nothing more. random thoughts and musings. spun together in the weightlessness of sleep. let it go. let it ride the moon. sliding off the horizon as daybreak rises.

    Katherine heeded this quiet voice as she slid out of bed. Untangling herself from the web of Jayce’s arms and from the lingering ghosts of the last three days. She brought a broom and dustpan from the kitchen and swept up the broken glass fighting off the symbolism that swept its own path through her mind.

    On her way to the front door she stopped to check on Michael-John in his crib. A vision of innocence and, in that moment, the epicenter of her existence. Her heart pulsed with ferocious love and the sweet ache of need.

    It seems to me that Michael-John’s cognitive development is somewhat slow. Of course it’s difficult to gauge at only 15 months. But in my estimation his brain is not processing sound stimuli the way it should by now.

    What does that mean, Dr. Franks?

    It may be nothing at all. He may simply grow out of it. It’s difficult to say at this point.

    The first reticent fingers of the sunrise broke free over the tree line on the far shore of Otter Lake as Katherine stepped out onto the cottage porch. The deck chair was there where she had placed it last evening on the dock facing Bass Rock – the large fist-shaped rock that marked where the deep water began. She sank into it with a sigh of relief.

    Was this dream compelling her to act, she wondered, as it nudged itself back into her thoughts. Or was it just doing what dreams do. Echoing the ambivalence that seemed to grow within her with each passing day. Searching for a landmark beyond this island of uncertainty on which she had existed for the last year. Farther back than that in truth, she knew. But in this last year it ran deep and wild. An undertow that she fought against day after day.

    Then, yesterday, that conversation on the telephone with Bryan which put into motion something new and fertile. A seed of upheaval that seemed to offer hope like the growl of distant thunder on a scorching summer day.

    Hi Katherine. It’s Bryan. How’s my favorite sister-in-law?

    That’s a back-handed compliment considering I’m your only sister-in-law. I think I’m being buttered up for something.

    Sorry to bother you on your vacation but I need your opinion on something. It’s kind of a touchy matter.

    Alright, fire away.

    Have you heard about this Drug-Free Rave Series by Faith Catherwood and that Youth Voice organization?

    Yeah, we saw it on the news just before we left. You’ll never guess – I actually went to high school with her. She hung with a tough crowd back then. The last year of high school she stole a boyfriend from me and dumped him a few weeks later. But that’s beside the point. It must be tough for you and Grace stirring up all those bad memories.

    Yeah, it digs up a lot of stuff I thought I’d put to rest. Anyway, there’s a press conference Wednesday night to kick off the series. The thing is, I’m considering going.

    Really. I never figured you for the placard-carrying protestor type, Bryan.

    Protesting is not what I had in mind. I actually think it’s a damn good idea.

    Seriously? Wow, that’s a pretty enlightened view. Have you discussed it with Grace? I have a hard time seeing her take that point of view. Every since Sarah… well…

    Died. You can say it, Katherine. It has been four years.

    It doesn’t seem that long. I have to tell you, I can’t see Grace warming up to the idea.

    No, definitely not. She tried to block the event permit when it came up for approval at the committee meeting. So I guess what I’m asking is: Am I crazy to even consider going?

    You have to do what you have to do. Sometimes you have to put your own needs first.

    I guess so. It does feel selfish though.

    Selfish is not always bad contrary to popular opinion.

    I suppose. Anyway, thanks for weighing in. I just needed to throw it out there and see how you reacted.

    Good luck, if you do decide to go. I hope you find what you’re looking for.

    Thanks. Enjoy the rest of your vacation. I’ll call you when you get home.

    Katherine let her mind revolve back to that terrible day when Sarah died. The piercing sense of loss shining a harsh light on just how tenuous one’s hold on life really was.

    all the more reason. not to give your life away on false pretences. how tragic to see the end coming. and know you shied away from your heart’s desire. that you settled for good enough. and yet, at the start. it was more than good enough. so much more. what if it could be again?

    Morning sun brushed the surface of the lake now through curling fog huddling over the water. The inspiration came to her quietly from a soft voice within. Moments of Light. This would be the theme of her show. The exhibition of her photographs was a talisman she held onto now to ground herself even though it seemed impossibly far off. Three months was an eternity at this point but it was at least something to focus upon.

    TWENTY minutes later Katherine slipped back into the cottage pausing this time at the door to Samantha’s room. She was curled up on the edge of the bed in a tangle of blankets. A different brand of love consumed her when she turned her heart to Samantha. She was every inch Jayce’s child. Willful and single-minded when she set her sights upon a desire. It was inconceivable to think of loving one of her children more than the other. But love, it seemed, had different hues shaping and defining itself anew each time. And that was the reason, she realized, that there was still a flickering candlelight of hope.

    Jayce was awake. She knew it the moment she entered the room simply because his breathing had changed. Strange, she thought, how you could come to know every nuance of a person and still find them retreating from you like clouds drifting southward on a wind you could not feel.

    He wound his arms around her as she slipped back into bed. Katherine let her eyes wander down the long curve of his back watching the tightening of his muscles as his grip grew tighter on her shoulders. not yet. not yet. He groaned into the soft flesh of her neck. too soon. too soon. Resignation came with the telltale catch of his breath and the release. Yet she felt safe in the cradle of his arms until he rolled off and lay still beside her retreating from the passion rather than lingering in it. This she still could not understand.

    Morning, Kat.

    He kissed her and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Such a simple gesture and yet it brought such a billow of desire. White sails catching a rogue breeze on a windless day. She knew that this too was part of the problem. Brief and wonderful moments that passed far too quickly. Pearls strung on a wire that was perilously close to breaking.

    Look, the weather’s finally cleared. I knew it would.

    Jayce swung himself out of bed and landed on his feet. Katherine followed his movements by the sounds alone. The bathroom door swinging closed behind him with a dull thud – water rushing through the pipes – bed springs creaking as he sat down to tug on jeans, a t-shirt and running shoes – the refrigerator door opening and closing – the thwack of the screen door – the sharp, ringing clap of the axe as Blue Jays shrieked in the trees overhead.

    Samantha’s piercing laugh sounded from outside the cottage. Where else would she be but with her father? Her idol and hero. But this Katherine could not resent. Samantha’s love was pure and unquestioning and found an easy echo in Jayce’s heart.

    In the shower she adjusted the water until it was almost too hot to bear. Tiny needles of pain from the pulsing water made her skin tingle. She stayed there for a long time as the call of so many shimmering yesterdays reached out to her lobbying for patience.

    patience, yes. with all that is at stake patience is called for. but preparation too. building bridges that can be used. if all else fails. bridges to another life.

    KATHERINE was surrounded by photographs in three concentric rings in the middle of the floor. All of them had been taken over the past week at the cottage. It had taken an entire ink cartridge to print them all.

    The outside ring – yes, she could see it now – represented the world around her and the spirits that inhabited it. The life sustaining forces that tied earth to flesh and water to blood. The unfolding of the sunrise and the slow burn of sunset – morning fog crouching over the water – a family of loons patrolling the lake with a proprietary grace – wind-whipped rain through the cottage window – the many moods and incarnations of nature that quickened her heart.

    The second ring, photographs of Jayce and Samantha, touched a still deeper core representing the place of love in her life. Both what it gave to her and what it asked for in return. Demanding loyalty and the depths of her passion, not to mention sacrifice, but giving back these same commodities threefold. Or at least at one time it had done so.

    Finally the inner ring. Photographs of Michael-John which reached to a sacred place at the ocean floor of her soul. Speaking of how her love for Jayce and his love for her had formed a bridge that linked the past to the future.

    When you say he never cries that concerns me. Naturally, some babies cry more than others but all babies cry. It’s their way of communicating.

    I didn’t mean he never cries, Dr. Franks. It’s just that he doesn’t very often. When he does it’s very, very faint. I don’t hear it unless I’m in the same room.

    In and of itself it may mean nothing but it could be a sign of something more serious. As I said, it’s difficult to gauge at Michael-John’s age.

    For a moment the photographs resembled moons circling a planet. Katherine removed half a dozen photos of Jayce from the middle ring and placed them outside the outer ring where they stood like sentinels at the gates. Wariness masked his face in all of them as though he was shielding himself from the lens. When had he developed that distrust, she wondered, and what was he trying to hide?

    JAYCE raised the axe over his head and brought it down hard. He felt an odd pleasure at the sharp snap-crack and at the way the block splintered neatly in two halves. It was an energy release he needed after the strain of the last three days. The bad weather kept him inside with no way to exorcise his restlessness or to escape the fact that there were problems between them.

    But they had made love this morning so it couldn’t be all that bad, he decided. They were not so different from other couples in that respect. Every marriage hit a bumpy stretch now and then.

    Again the axe came down glinting in the sun before it connected with the wood. It hit a knot this time and glanced off. Jayce frowned, raised the axe again and brought it down harder. It sliced through the wood this time like a diver through cold, blue water.

    All things considered, he rationalized, it was good that this stretch of bad days happened here because it could be left behind when they went home. The accumulated emotion built up around it had been released. Once it was gone the thing itself could be contained and defused. Yes, it really was for the best that it happened now.

    Blue Jays shrieked in the trees above him as the axe came charging down again.

    KATHERINE was feeding Michael-John when Jayce came back into the bedroom. He mopped his reddened face with a towel and lay down on the bed beside her.

    Sorry I was so moody the last few days. It was the rain and being stuck inside this place. I can’t stand to be confined, Kat. You know it always brings out the worst in me.

    I know. You’re like a bear pacing in his cave waiting for spring.

    A bear? Am I that bad?

    Sorry, bad analogy. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. But while we’re on the subject of restlessness, there’s something I need to talk to you about.

    I’m all ears.

    Katherine looked away as she spoke choosing her words carefully.

    You know it has been five years since I stopped working.

    I suppose. I haven’t been keeping track. But it seems you have.

    I never meant it to be permanent, Jayce. Just a few years until the kids were in school.

    That’s still almost five years away for MJ.

    I know. But I don’t think I can wait that long. I’m feeling fenced in… And I’m worried I might have lost my credibility as a professional photographer.

    You’ve been doing freelance work for The Star all along. I don’t see how your credibility could be at stake.

    It’s not the same, Jayce. They don’t take you as seriously. Anyway, that’s just part of it. I feel like I’ve lost some part of my identity. Motherhood has swallowed me up.

    I thought you liked being a mother.

    I do. Of course I do. But I don’t want to be defined by that. I have other ambitions too.

    careful. disclosure but not confession is the objective here. enough to open a door without letting him see what lies behind it. such a thin line it is.

    Alright, Kat. What’s going on here? What are you getting at?

    Nothing’s going on. I’m just saying that I want to go back to work.

    You will. Eventually.

    Not eventually. Now.

    Out on the lake a loon’s falsetto wail sent shivers across the stillness of the morning. Samantha bounded into the room with excitement pitched in her eyes.

    "Daddy, a fish jumped in the lake. It was this big. Can we catch him, daddy? Can we?"

    Well we can sure try. Let’s go find your fishing pole.

    Jayce?

    We’ll talk about it later, Kat. There’s a big fish waiting.

    When exactly, she wondered, had that habit of his started? Deftly ducking away from any issue that wandered outside his comfort zone. Reducing it to something impersonal that could be stowed away and pulled out again later for discussion. Leaving her in mid air as if a trap door had opened beneath her.

    Katherine stood at the screen door watching the two of them. Samantha took a seat in the deck chair while Jayce rigged her lure and cast out her line. Sunlight glinted off the lure giving off dazzling strobes of light as it twisted at the end of the line before crashing into the water. It looked so perfect. A loving father and an adoring child. So much like a photograph that it was hard to argue with the simplistic joy of it. But there was something more than met the eye, she knew. Layers of subtlety too easy to turn a blind eye to.

    There are some tests that can be done. They’re not always conclusive in infants but they may be able to flush out a problem if it’s there. And again, I don’t know that there is a problem necessarily.

    Can you do the tests?

    No, I’m going to refer you to an Otolaryngologist. Don’t let the name intimidate you. In plain English, it’s an ear, nose and throat specialist. Now try not to worry too much. I’m just erring on the safe side.

    Jayce was going to resist, she realized. What had made her entertain the idea that he would react any other way? She ought to know by now that there were no shades of gray in his world. That was, after all, one of the reasons she fell in love with him to begin with. His rock solid grip on life was something she had needed to balance her own impetuousness. How ironic that the very thing that had drawn her to him now stood in opposition to what she needed.

    JAYCE settled himself on the dock needing time to decode what had just happened. I’m feeling fenced in. The words rattled around inside his head with the hollow knock of things left unsaid. It was impossible not to see that she was unhappy. How unhappy was the critical question. If she went back to work she would be out of his radar range. She might begin to believe that she could live without him.

    Living on borrowed time. This was what he was guilty of. Walking that thin line believing that half of himself was enough for Kat. And maybe it still could be. But that tightrope was a risky thing to pin your hopes on. Life without Kat would be a long fall even if he had never touched bottom before. But the harsh reality was that he had touched bottom. A place of darkness and fear that he could never go back to again.

    What mattered was simply this, he avowed. Kat, Sam and MJ were the foundation of his life. They were woven into the pattern of his existence as tightly as vines twisted around a trellis. Where one began and the other ended was no longer clear. Only one thing was certain. He could not live without them.

    KATHERINE punched the numbers on the cell phone key pad.

    You have two new messages. To check your messages, press one now… This is Dr. Forsythe’s office. You have an appointment for 2:30 on June 25th. We need to change it to 10:30. If that’s a problem, please let us know…

    These are all very standard tests. We run them on a wide range of patients. Of course, with an infant it’s more difficult to get conclusive results.

    What did the tests indicate, Dr. Forsythe?

    I can’t give you any answers at this moment. We have to analyze the data and put it in context. But don’t sit on pins and needles waiting for the results. Michael-John looks like a very healthy young child. This is all just precautionary, you understand.

    Message two… Hi Katherine, it’s Greg Magrucco at The Star. I’ve got an assignment for you if you’re interested. Give me a call.

    Katherine’s spirit lifted at this prospect. These occasional assignments connected her to her old life before the kids and before things began to blur with Jayce. A time when her life was so much simpler. She punched in the number on her cell phone.

    Greg Magrucco. City Desk.

    Hi Greg, its Katherine Orr. I just picked up your message. I’m out of town but I’ll be back tomorrow night. What’s the assignment?

    You heard about this Drug-Free Rave Series that’s starting up? It figures to be interesting. Faith Catherwood is raising some people’s hackles. Interested?

    Absolutely. What are you looking for?

    There’s a Press Conference Wednesday night at 9:00. Might not amount to anything but there’s a bit of a buzz in the air so you never know. We’re looking for the irate parent angle. That always plays well.

    I know the drill. I’ll keep my eyes peeled and see what turns up.

    Great. Thanks for jumping in on short notice. Usual terms okay with you?

    Sure. I’ll invoice you.

    Great. Well, I should let you go. Thanks again for filling in.

    No problem. Thanks for thinking of me.

    The screen door opened and Jayce came in as Katherine shut off her cell.

    Who were you talking to?

    The Star. They left me a message at home. I’ve got an assignment for Wednesday night. There’s a Press Conference for that Drug-Free Rave series we saw on the news.

    And you accepted it?

    Is there a reason I shouldn’t?

    Well, yeah. Grace and Bryan. Did you not stop to think how they might feel?

    To be honest, no. But I think Bryan is going to be there. He called me this afternoon.

    I find that pretty hard to believe.

    He sees it as a good thing. But I gather Grace doesn’t agree.

    But he’s going to go anyway? I don’t get that. How do you ignore someone’s feelings like that?

    You’d have to ask him. For me it’s just a job – plain and simple.

    I don’t see it that way. I’d rather you didn’t do it.

    I’ve already said yes. I can’t back out now.

    Can’t or won’t?

    I need this, Jayce. I need to shake off the rust. If I nail something solid it could open doors for me to get back in.

    Back to work, you mean. At The Star.

    Yes.

    Jayce sat down on the sofa and turned his face away from her.

    We made a deal, Kat. You wanted to stay home with the kids. That’s why I took the Ops job. It wasn’t something I wanted. But we agreed we’d go that way until the kids were in school.

    I know. At the time I thought that was what I wanted. But things change.

    What things change, Kat? Explain it to me.

    full circle back to that thin line again. the fine edge between the spoken and literal truth. the naked truth is this. the day may come. when it’s necessary to leave him. financial self-sufficiency is a bridge for that day. but he must not know. so how to diffuse his suspicion?

    People change. Circumstances change. Anyway, it’s not like we pricked our fingers and made a blood pact.

    I gave up driving, Kat. You know that was a big sacrifice.

    I know. But now you can go back to it. If I’m working we don’t need the bigger salary anymore.

    Jayce turned his gaze to the floor. She saw the tight line of his brow which meant he was digging his heels in.

    It’s not that simple. They invested time and money training me for the Ops job. They’re not going to take kindly to me wanting out of it. I don’t think it’s an option anymore.

    So what are you saying, Jayce?

    Just that we made a deal. And I’ve kept my part. I think it’s reasonable to expect you to keep yours.

    You and I have very different definitions of reasonable.

    Katherine crossed to the window turning her back to Jayce. A quilt of frayed clouds had drifted across the sky above the tree line. The sun climbed the edges of the clouds and shot through a gap sending rays of light outward that became the spokes of a great celestial wheel. Katherine imagined her destiny spinning on that wheel at the whim of a God whose mercy she longed for now.

    She heard Jayce coming toward her across the room. He wound his arms around her and rested his chin on her head in a pose that recalled sweeter days.

    Katherine, I love you. You know that, right? I love you so damn much.

    Jayce hardly ever used her full name. When he did it quickened an emotion in her.

    I know. I love you too. So much it hurts sometimes. Love isn’t supposed to hurt, is it?

    careful. too close to the line. too close. remember, build a bridge. don’t burn one.

    It’s not supposed to do but it does. One day you wake up and realize that all the rules have changed. And that you have to fight for what you need.

    This solemn turn to his thoughts frightened Katherine. There was a quality of possessiveness in it that sent a cold shiver down her spine. Did he know? Did he have a premonition of her thoughts?

    I didn’t mean to get us into this kind of discussion. We’re still on vacation. Let’s not talk about it anymore today.

    Katherine leaned into his embrace and pushed aside the fear. She felt safe in the shelter of his arms and the hollow of his body. This fierce and passionate intimacy that still bloomed now and then, so rare and exquisite, surpassed even making love with him. Strange that it should, she thought, but it did. It was uniquely theirs and always had been. The place where their love sunk its roots the deepest.

    KATHERINE sat on the dock again watching the undulating waltz of late day sun on lazy, black water as still as a whisper and as smooth as the mantle of approaching nightfall. In the past few hours she had seen the best of Jayce. As a father and a soul mate. But would it last or slip away again as it so often did?

    Tomorrow they would be going home retracing their steps down Highway 69 leaving behind the crystal clear lakes and caressing breezes of Muskoka. Would it still be there when they merged onto Highway 400 – that 200 kilometer stretch of blacktop that connected the hustle and bustle of Toronto to this island of serenity. Or would it fade again like flowers wilting in a vase?

    The thought came to her, rising it seemed out of the deep water itself, that there might be an answer at the Rave linking together unrelated strands of her life into a thread of meaning.

    Visit http://mdyetmetaphor.com/blog/ to read and view

    Katherine’s Photo Journal Entry

    Reflections

    **********

    Chapter Two

    Echoes

    JAYCE closed his eyes to ease the frayed thread of tension that throbbed in his skull. He felt his muscles and tendons stretched tight like a bowstring the instant before the arrow flies. Or like the wild animal crouched in the undergrowth knowing the arrow was meant for it. The hunter and the hunted, he realized, shared this kinship of the hunt. This electric awareness that both were at the mercy of the arrow.

    The burning pain in his stomach brought Jayce back to the four walls of his office at Appleton & Sons Transportation. The wild animal here was the budget reforecast he had to wrestle into submission. The bowstring was time and he himself was the arrow.

    Goddamn ulcer. Goddamn this bloody job that gave it to me.

    He reached into his desk drawer for the bottle of Maalox tablets. There were only two left. He took both and tossed the empty bottle at the waste basket. His aim was off and the bottle clattered across the floor.

    Bugger. Twenty-five years ago you could hit a fading jump shot from the top of the key. Now you can’t even hit a waste basket three feet away.

    His back ached as he stood up. Looking down reminded him how much weight he had gained. Thirty pounds since he had given up driving. Not so very long ago he was a trim 165 pounds. Now what was he? Just one more overweight pencil-pusher willing the hours to pass so he could escape. Ten years back he would have scoffed at the idea that he would be spending eleven hours a day crunching numbers. Yet here he was. The prospect of another 20 years in this job was about as enticing as a swift kick in the groin.

    Lane Appleton, the owner’s son who was VP from the moment he walked through the door with his MBA, stepped into Jayce’s office. He bent down to pick up the Maalox bottle.

    Ulcer acting up again, Jayce?

    Nothing I can’t handle. If you’re here about the reforecast, I’m working on it. But there’s no way in hell a seven percent cut in expenses is doable. Not with gas prices spiking again.

    What about the route changes I suggested? That alone should save us 5% in fuel costs.

    It’s not as simple as the shortest distance between two points, Lane. You have to consider the amount of traffic, how many hills there are and the number of stoplights. And some of those routes have low bridges. The guys know the quickest routes. I’m bloody well not going to second guess them.

    Lane flipped the Maalox bottle in the waste basket and leaned on the door with his usual air of superiority.

    It’s your job to tell the drivers what routes to take and make sure they take them. It’s not about what’s most convenient for them. It’s about what’s the most economical.

    For Christ’s sake, Lane. Take the silver spoon out of your ass for a minute. You’ve never been on the road. I have. I know these guys and I trust them.

    You know I could fire you right now for talking me to that way, right? I give you a lot of latitude because you’re good at what you do and because you’ve been with us so long. But don’t push your luck. Have the reforecast on my desk in the morning. And there better be a seven percent cut in costs or I’ll punt it back to you again.

    You’ll have it. It’ll be total fiction but you’ll have it.

    Lane wheeled around and strode out of Jayce’s office with the chip still firmly balanced on his shoulder. Jayce dropped into his chair as his ulcer barked again.

    He felt it rising in him now from that dark corner where it always crouched in waiting. A relentless knot in his stomach. That grinding pressure behind his eyes. His pulse quickening as it fought to take control of him. The echo of that other time and the remorseless joy of giving in. He took the heel of his hand and smacked it against his forehead several times turning the anger on itself. But it was not enough this time. More and more often now the little anger busters he had devised did not work.

    Something outside of him had to take the hit, he realized. Why not the desk? He was chained to the damn thing. So why not take it out there? He took a deep breath and lashed out kicking the desk with his foot. The desk bounced forward as his coffee mug tumbled off the edge. He caught the mug in time but did not notice the family picture toppling off the front corner.

    His ankle and knee hurt like a son-of-a-bitch but it worked. The pain siphoned away the anger before it could gather steam. Still, it was happening more often now and that worried him. A man ought to be able to control himself. But that was easier said than done with his life spinning out of control like a car skidding on black ice. One mountain at a time, he told himself. Get this number-crunching exercise behind him and then he could focus on the situation at home.

    TWO hours later the reforecast was finally done. Jayce leaned forward to ease his stiff neck pushing his breath out with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. The missing picture caught his eye now. He walked around the desk and picked it up.

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