July: Belated post #1

The first time Zach visited Gary was when his friend was at his first in-between-trips week. He mostly stayed where he was left in the house because he knew he would get lost if he as much as thought about wandering. The second time was better. He almost had an idea of which direction he was going. Almost.

Zach pulled open a door that, if favored by luck and the sense that North was still somewhere to the right of him, should lead to the family room, and found himself staring into a closet. It was a very large closet.

He blushed, feeling stupid.

“It’s okay,” Gary said consolingly, steering him in the right direction. “Everyone gets lost their first few times ‘round here. Dad even considered gettin’ one of those handheld GPS watchamacallit things, as a joke, sort of. And then Mrs. Jameson reminded him that he doesn’t stay long enough here t’have guests often. And that when he does it’s usually a whole bunch of people so one of those things’ not gonna help anyways.”

Zach remembered Mrs. Jameson from the last visit. The woman was in her fifties, matronly, and rather intimidating. When she brought up a tray of snacks he received the impression that not eating would be considered nothing short of a misdemeanor in which either force-feeding or lawyers would be involved. Or both. When he tried to explain this to Gary his friend had laughed and replied well, you’re too thin anyways, here, have a cookie.

So Zach thoughtfully munched on a biscuit and reflected that being the son of a popular anchorman must mean that one was not easily intimidated. Even by a woman whose voice sounded like the impersonation of Judgment Day when the Judge was feeling particularly martinet-y. He nearly choked when his eyes caught the sight of a security camera mounted discretely in a corner.

If he was inclined toward paranoia, now would be the time for the symptoms to start manifesting themselves.

“Oh don’t worry ‘bout that thing. It’s not even hooked up.” Gary said carelessly as he swiped a few more biscuits from the tray. “This used to be a meeting-room-place, you know.”

“Okay,” said Zach. He almost asked why the camera was left up then, if no one was to use it. Then he considered that maybe Mr. Smith, as an anchorman, liked the subconscious feel of a camera trained on him even when he was at home. That was certainly a reasonable hypothesis, even if he found it hard to relate to because personally, that camera was creeping him out.

Gary concluded that Zach might be camera-shy. Well that wasn’t too surprising. As far as he knew the only reason Zach ever sat in the front of the lecture halls was to take advantage of the hearing aid system. He did wish Zach would quit glancing at the corner. It was making him twitchy.

He cleared the tray of the rest of its load and tried to think of something to do that would take them away from this room. General Site of Twitchiness Number One.

“I know!” He said brightly. Zach looked at him warily. “Let’s call Mike and Nick! We’ve got one of those multi-way calling systems.”

“Er,” said Zach. “We just talked with both of them online. Less than an hour ago.”

“Oh com’on.” Zach gave him a look. He tried a different tactic. “I’m leaving in two more days and you might not get to play with fancy phone system-things again.” His friend raised an eyebrow. “Well, for another week ‘n half, at least,” Gary amended.

“I stand corrected,” muttered Zach, but got to his feet. He gave Gary a sideways glance. “Did I ever tell you that you’d make a really bad salesman?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He directed them down the hallway. “You ‘n everyone else.” He grinned. “Good thing I’m not becomin’ one then, huh?”

“Very,” said Zach dryly. “What time is it in France right now?”

“Dunno.” Gary cheerfully consulted the phone’s built-in address book. “Let’s call Mike first an’ he can figure it out for us.”

Zach gazed at him without much hope. “I meant—” he started to protest.

“Hey,” said Mike, from the other end of the phone.

“Is Nick still awake?” asked Zach.

There was a pause.

“Um…he should be?” Gary could almost imagine Mike regarding his phone with raised eyebrows. At least Minnesota was still in America and no one needed to be woken up at two in the morning by a mistimed phone call. “Zach…is that you?”

“Think so.” Gary grinned. “Hold on a sec.” He started to call Nick.

“Gary?” said Mike.

“This is neither the time,” said Zach, “nor the place to have an identity crises. Though it would be fitting.”

“Hello?” Inquired Gary, as soon as someone picked up the phone.

“Nicki!” screeched a little girl’s voice, and the phone was dropped, from the sound of it, onto a table. Zach cringed.

“Wow,” said Mike. After a moment he added, “Ow. My ear.”

“Oui?” said Nick.

“Bonjour,” Gary saluted him.

“ ‘Nicki?’” Mike’s voice suggested that a smirk was involved somewhere.

“Say ‘hi’ to your sister for us, afterwards,” Zach said faintly.

“Are you guys all together?” Nick asked.

“No,” said Mike. “At least I’m not.”

“It’s just me ‘n Zach,” confirmed Gary.

“Yes,” said Zach. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

Gary waved at him. There was another brief pause.

“Anyways,” said Mike. “So, about those flying pigs.”

“Wait. What?”

“Huh?”

“Something about pigs that fly?”

“Like, you know.”

“What?”

“I’m so lost. So lost.”

“What?”

“Huh?”

“What?”

“What?”

Gary hooted with laughter. “This is why we should always have lots of people on the phone at the time.”

“Um. What?” asked Nick.

“So we can spend five minutes to every one minute of conversation, trying to figure out what everyone’s talking about?” Zach asked uncertainly.

“Exactly,” said Gary.

“ ‘course,” said Mike. “What did you think?”