Alt-Tab Alt-TabVin finally noticed that he was flipping between his email and his Excel database, only he couldn’t remember why.
Alt-Tab
Back to his email. Mrs. D’Ambrosio from the library was wondering, she understood this might be a busy time, but it’d been three months now since she asked, of course it wasn’t a terrible emergency...Vin scrolled through the message again. Still waiting for track lighting to be installed over the new exhibit in the Rare Book Room.
Back to the database, Vin typed in who, what, where.
He saw himself reflected in his computer screen, and the image of his bathroom mirror intruded into his vision. Three faces other than his own, the reflection blurred by sweat and fear, his face bloody, pale, frightened, and theirs leering, crude, and violent. Panic jumped out of nowhere and landed square on his shoulders, giving his heart a jolt and setting every nerve on alert.
Vin shoved his chair back from the desk, not getting more than a couple of feet before he hit the wall behind. He stared at the screen, and the disinterested database stared back. They were here. They were somewhere. They would always be wherever Vin was, because he’d never be rid of them - the way they smelled, the way they sounded, they way they touched him and made him -
"All done Mr. Larabee..." The voice gave Vin another start, and he looked up to see that Chris had been looking at him. Even now, Chris held his gaze a moment before turning to the housekeeper coming out of the bathroom.
"Thanks Mrs. Webber..." Chris got up to hold doors for the impossibly short, wide, old woman, and her wheeled work cart. "I appreciate you taking care of that. I meant to do it myself."
"Ahh..." She shook her head as she backed her equipment out of the office. "Better some things are left to professionals...I check your office twice a day. Twice a day!" She shook a forefinger at him. "I don’t even clean Judge Travis’ office twice a day!"
"Thank you Mrs. Webber..." Chris said, and smiled as he watched her toddle down the hallway. When he shut the door, he turned back to Vin, and the smile left his face.
"Something on the computer?"
"No...just remembering..." Vin reached for his bottle of water and took a long swallow. "It’s there all the time, sometimes it still gets the drop on me..." He saw Chris’ eyes narrow in confusion. "Every other thing I think about Chris is them. It’s like trying to listen to two conversations at the same time. No matter what’s goin’ on..." He swept a wide gesture at the desk in front of himself. "It just keeps playing over and over in my mind. What I could’ve done, what I should’ve done." He capped the water bottle with a shaky hand. "It’s just always there."
"Vin -." Chris started, but Vin didn’t want to hear anything. He pulled his chair back up to the desk and interrupted whatever Chris was going to say.
"I was thinking about sending out a general email to faculty and staff...you know, James is finally gone, we’ll get to you as soon as we can, hold your horses..." He didn’t look up.
"Sounds good." Chris said, and Vin still didn’t look up. He wished Chris would just take the hint and go sit back down. He tried to concentrate on the screen, tried to get his fingers to Alt-Tab him back to his email.
"I’ll have ‘em send all Housekeeping things to Gloria too..."
"Okay..." and finally Chris went back to his chair.
+ + + + + + +
For the third time, Ezra attempted to concentrate on the agenda before him. The University Board of Directors would be meeting again this afternoon to discuss "that matter" - meaning Lucas James. All of the board members wanted James gone - but none were ready to have their name in ink on that decision. He rubbed his eyes and flipped back to the first page.
Perhaps he should review his emails again, and see if Mr. Larabee had even responded to the summons requesting his presence at today’s meeting. Yesterday’s meeting had raised more questions than answers, today they hoped - with Mr. Larabee’s help - to reverse that trend. All would be lost if he’d taken another sick day.
Ezra muttered to himself as he weeded out his latest harvest of useless information, proffered by sundry personages throughout the campus. delete~delete~delete he disposed of them one by one. He’d made it about halfway down when he finally encountered one that actually mattered to him. The return addy was the Maintenance Department.
While we figure out a way to dump James, you can send me all maintenance requests... Ezra had to smile at Mr. Larabee’s bluntness. Without finishing reading the message, he hit reply.
Whenever you have a moment, I would greatly appreciate having someone finally make an appearance in my office to repair the gouge in the plaster which has been staring at me for quite some nine months... He hit send, deleted the original message, and kept going through his email.
+ + + + + + +
"Oh great..." Chris spat when he saw the email invitation. "How the hell do they expect me to get any work done if they keep scheduling meetings every twelve hours?"
"You talking to me?" Vin looked around his computer screen.
"Damn Board is having another meeting today. They had one yesterday. Hell they’ll keep having ‘em until they figure a way to fire James and make it look like his idea." Chris hit the ’accept this invitation’ icon. "Dammit, we are going to end this, and we are going to end this today." He began typing angrily on his keyboard.
"Who you yellin’ at now?"
"Travis. You should see this agenda. They’re gonna spend three hours exploring every possible way this could jump up and bite ‘em in the ass and then STILL not fire him. I’ve seen more spine in jelly fish..."
While Chris cyber-vented, Vin went back to his own computer. His ‘new mail’ button was flashing - it’d been flashing steadily since he sent out his global message about maintenance. "Now who’s got a problem?" he muttered.
Ezra.
Vin stared at the name. Ezra knew. Ezra thought he wanted it to happen. Ezra had sent him a reply. Vin swallowed hard and clicked on the message. As he read it - just a request for some maintenance work - Vin got the idea Ezra didn’t know who he was communicating with. The message ended with reference to a meeting - Ezra thought he was dealing with Chris.
At first Vin thought maybe he’d forward the message to Chris, to have him answer it. Or maybe not answer it at all, just send somebody to do the work. But he didn’t want Ezra to go on sending emails, not if he didn’t know who was reading them. So, he typed a short answer and hit send.
Within half a minute, the automatic ‘your message has been read’ popped up in his email. Ezra was reading his reply. Vin wondered if his computer was about to start on fire.
+ + + + + + +
Why wasn’t the agenda making sense? It was neither the grammar nor the punctuation. Nor was it the mind numbing inanity of topics put forth. It was because - Ezra knew too well - it would all be moot if the Head of Security graced the proceedings with his presence. Under the best circumstances, Mr. Larabee had the patience of a rogue bear. This nonsensical attempt at shifting blame and saving face would be like setting a match to a fuse.
Just then, Chris’ email acceptance came through. "Oh joy." Ezra breathed and made a note of it. When he deleted that message, the next one appeared. This one sent a shiver of dismay through Ezra.
Hey Ezra. I’ll make sure somebody takes care of that gouge today. Sorry you been having to wait all this time. Vin.
He quickly hit reply and sent an answer, then even more quickly deleted the message and emptied his email trash. Good Lord - what was Vin doing at work? Was he on the campus even now? Chris wouldn’t think of bringing him to the meeting would he? Ezra wouldn’t - couldn’t - didn’t know if he’d be able to remain in the same room with - with -
Desperately, and too late, Ezra searched for Chris’ acceptance again. Had he made any mention in there of bringing Vin? But he’d deleted it and it was gone. Good Lord.
+ + + + + + +
Vin didn’t know if he’d been expecting a response from Ezra. The original hadn’t really been addressed to him, and it was impossible to rightly gauge a person’s tone in email. Buck liked to use exclamation points a lot, JD used the smiley faces that came with his Yahoo account, Josiah changed the inspirational tag line to his signature every week...Ezra used big words all the time. Unless he was upset or pissed. You could always tell - the madder Ezra was, the fewer words he used.
So Vin opened up this reply. All it said was thank you.
FORTY-FIVE
“Did you bring over my coffee cup?” Vin suddenly realized it was missing. Chris had brought back his ancient soup can of pens and pencils, his pocket calendar and bottle of Corn Huskers lotion, and the picture of his parents on their wedding day. But no coffee cup.“You mean it wasn’t glued to the work table on purpose?” Chris asked. Vin tried to figure out what Chris could be talking about. “It was so full of wood shavings and plaster that it was too heavy to lift…”
“Ohh… Vin rubbed his eyes. “We’ve been having to do a lot of Maintenance work…been cutting lumber and sheetrock…”
“What’s going on with Maintenance?”
“I don’t know…” Vin held his fingers there, on his eyes, for a minute. It wasn’t really that he didn’t know – he just didn’t have the energy to explain it all.
“You okay?”
“Yeah…” Vin nodded and dropped his hand, reaching for the bottle of water to take another mouthful. “Tired, that’s all…”
“Well, it’s gettin’ near lunchtime…” Chris looked at his watch. “You want to order in something?”
“I’m not really hungry.” Vin started to say, but he was contradicted by the obvious complaint of the water in his otherwise empty stomach. Chris sat back in his chair.
“Seems we’ve had this conversation before?”
“Yeah, I know…” Vin ran his hand over his face. “How big a mess you want Mrs. Webber t’hafta clean up this afternoon?”
“I get the distinct impression that Mrs. Webber admires a challenge.”
“Ha – yeah I think so too…” Vin smiled, but dropped his eyes, and Chris could see the wheels turning. “We could order something, and you could ask JD if he’d pick it up for us.” He started to laugh.
“You are tired.”
“Or – I know – Ezra – let’s invite Ezra over for lunch…” Chris had started to laugh too, just for a second, until he realized there was no humor in Vin’s remarks, only bitterness.
“Vin –.” There was a warning and a question in his tone.
“Oh c’mon Chris! It is funny. I’m the one whose life is over and they act like I owe them an apology!” He stopped laughing abruptly, and pressed a hand against his ribs. His voice was flat. “Damn funniest thing I ever heard of.”
“You shouldn’t listen to a word they say Vin.”
“They haven’t said anything Chris. It’s what they haven’t said.” He sounded truly hurt. “And the way they don’t say it. JD’s snapping at me like I broke him a promise, I haven’t heard a word from Nettie since Sunday, Ezra’s been rendered monosyllabic –.”
“When did you talk to Ezra?” Chris asked sharply.
“Ohh – email.” Vin searched his brain to remember. “Asked if somebody could take care a’that chunk in his wall. He thought he was emailing you – I said somebody’d be over and he just emailed back ’thanks’.” Vin picked up his bottle of water again but didn’t open it. He shrugged. “Maybe I’m making too much of it. What happened to me. Rain seems to think it was no big deal what happened. You and Buck –.”
“We do not think it’s no big deal.”
“Oh no – I didn’t mean that,” Vin hurried to say. “I wasn’t saying that. I meant – well, I meant…” He ran his finger over his parents’ picture. He couldn’t seem to decide what he had meant. “I just didn’t mean that,” he sighed. “Maybe lunch would be okay."
“Okay, I’ve got some menus here somewhere…” Chris didn’t want to leave the conversation just there, but decided to give himself some time to work on a reply. He went to his file cabinet and pulled open a drawer. “There’s pizza and Chinese, I think I’ve got a gift certificate to that new Italian restaurant on Bidwell…”
While Chris searched, Vin rested his forehead in his hands, shielding his eyes with his fingers. Everything was just churning around inside of him again. If he let himself think about it, he’d be tossing up all the water he drank too. He was asking too much of Chris, expecting too much, needing too much. Not giving anything back.
“I was only gonna say…” he continued, from behind the relative safety of his hands. “You and Buck…” and the thought of every single kindness each man had willingly given him suddenly crowded out every other feeling, and he choked on the words and the emotions.
“You just don’t know...” His voice faded out on the last word and he didn’t lift his head. He swallowed back everything he wanted to say but didn’t know how to say. It would come out stilted and stupid and it probably wouldn’t mean anything to Chris anyway. It was just how Chris was and what he did, and the measly, jumbled, incoherent ‘thanks’ that Vin couldn’t get past his throat would hardly count as much as a flyspeck.
Chris turned from his hunt through the file drawer to look at Vin. He was hiding again, behind his hands. It seemed he’d stopped speaking and was trying to even stop breathing. It hit Chris in the pit of his stomach – was Vin trying to say he and Buck were too unconcerned about what happened? Because that was the furthest thing from the truth. He’d been controlling his anger and vengeance, especially around Vin, not wanting to add to what Vin was already feeling. Was he supposed to tell Vin exactly how much rage and anguish he was holding inside? How long and how utterly those bastards would be dead once Chris got his hands on them?
Damn it – did Vin think Chris really didn’t care?
He shut the file drawer quietly and took a seat on the edge of his desk closest to Vin. He waited a couple of beats, but Vin didn’t lift his head. What was he supposed to say? What could he say?
What did he want to say?
“Vin?” but though the fingers tremored, they didn’t move. “Buck and I – well, I - whenever something bad happens…” Chris found himself wondering when he’d become so inarticulate; frustrated with his habitual inability to express what he was feeling. Vin was swimming in misery, and all Chris could worry about was embarrassing himself by saying or doing something ‘sensitive’ right here in the broad daylight.
“I know it’s hard on you Vin, and I would make it stop if I could. I’d run JD and Ezra down with a bulldozer if I thought it’d change their minds. If I get my hands on the dirt who did this to you, I’m gonna wrap their guts around a tree. I don’t know why Nettie hasn’t called you, and I sure don’t understand Rain thinking this is nothing out of the ordinary – all I know is that it’s hard on you, and it’s hard on me not being able to do a damn thing about it.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” the shaky voice came from behind the hands. “You already did more than I can ever even say ‘thank you’ for. You keep on ‘doing’, and I’ll never be able to pay you back.”
Chris folded his arms and frowned at the man who was not looking at him. “Refresh my memory – when was it I told you that you had to pay me back for being your friend?”
“You didn’t,” Vin admitted. He lifted his head with an exasperated sigh.
“You know, this isn’t some bargain we struck up, or some list I keep track of, favors and paybacks.” Chris didn’t mean to sound so stern. He took a breath and tried again. “I can imagine that it feels like everything has been blown to hell around you Vin. But if you think about it, think about how this friendship thing usually works between us – well, I hope you’ll stop counting favors ‘cause I think I’d end up owing you a whole lot more than you’d owe me.”
“How d’you figure that?”
“What happened Valentine’s Day this year?”
“Valentine’s Day?” Vin repeated it a couple of times as he searched his memory; apparently nothing was generating.
“Some fool drove through a blinding snowstorm to buy the flowers and pastry hearts he knew I’d forgotten and shoved them into my hands seconds before I walked into the lion’s den?” Chris supplied.
“Oh – well…Mary’s always been real nice to me. Didn’t want to see her sent up for murder.” But his voice was still so flat, it worried Chris.
“Are you okay? You want to go home? Go off campus for lunch? You don’t have to force yourself to feel back to normal if you’re not, Vin. Especially not around me.”
“It comes and goes – it’s not bad all the time. You don’t have to -.”
“Don’t have to what?” Chris interrupted. “Don’t have to worry? I guess I don’t have to breathe either, do I?” Vin stared hard at his desktop, and brushed away some dust that wasn’t there. He didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry Vin…” Chris tried again. “I don’t mean to be yelling at you when it’s other people I want to mutilate. It’s just –.” He leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “I care, okay? I care that you were hurt, I care that you’re hurting now. I want to do something, and I don’t know what. Didn’t seem to be a problem at home, what to do. Here – I don’t know…”
“What would you be doing if we were at your house?” Vin asked, genuinely interested. His empty stomach complained again and Chris shrugged.
“Guess I’d be giving you bananas and milk for lunch…” But he figured that wasn’t the answer Vin wanted. “I’d just be trying to make you feel safe, whatever it took. But honestly – offering you a shoulder in the dead of night seemed a whole lot less intimidating than it does right now…”
A small smile turned up one corner of Vin’s mouth, and Chris could tell it was real. “Nah, I’m not feeling so bad as I was that night…’sides, there’s all kinds a’shoulders out there, and I could use another kind right now.”
“What kind is that?”
“The kind with restaurants on speed dial…” Vin said. “What d’you want to have for lunch?”
“Hmph.” Chris gave a snort of derision. “JD and Ezra.”
FORTY-SIX
Chris called in an order for pizza delivery for lunch, then got up to use the bathroom. When he came back, Vin was standing next to his desk, counting the money in his wallet. "What are you doing?" Chris asked, though his tone implied he knew exactly what Vin was doing."I’m standing here counting my money." Vin answered him anyway.
"I’m buying."
"Let me pay."
"No, you’re doing me a favor just coming in today, so -."
"Chris - I don’t have much else left, but I do have money. Let me pay."
At first Chris thought Vin had been talking about not having much money left. Then he realized - Vin was talking about dignity, pride, and everything else that goes into making a man feel like a man. He felt like he didn’t have much of any of that left.
"Okay, but remember I like to tip big." Chris said. Vin rolled his eyes and sighed, and handed over some money.
"Here, you get to answer the door. And remember to say "thank you" this time."
"Whatever." Chris said, as though it was an intolerable request to make of him. They each went back to their chairs and their computers. Chris got involved in the wording of the email he was going to send out, asking people to notify him if they saw anybody on campus fitting the description of Vin’s attackers.
He could hear Buck now, asking him and what are you gonna do with them if you find ‘em?’ But Buck had also given him precise descriptions of the scum, descriptions that he’d gotten from Maria. And she was the excuse Chris was going to use if anyone asked him what was going on - that police had given out their descriptions, because they were wanted for questioning in an attempted assault on a teenage girl, and they’d been spotted on campus.
Still, he wondered if he ought to run it past Vin first. It was his life, after all. Might be he wouldn’t want anybody mucking around in it. So, Chris saved his work to draft, and called over, "Vin?" He got no immediate answer. "You over there?" When he still got no answer, he stood up from his chair to see what was going on.
Vin had pushed his keyboard aside, and was asleep at his desk, with his head on his arms. He had the picture of his parents tucked safely under one hand. Anger swelled up inside Chris again that Vin had been hurt so bad. Damn the bastards all to hell anyway, they weren’t going to get away with it. He scanned his email one last time and hit send.
+ + + + + + +
Noon couldn’t arrive soon enough for Ezra. He had a tension headache the size of Manhattan and no painkillers equal to the task. He intended to treat himself to lunch at Inez’s establishment, and indulge in a little liquid painkiller. Not only would it hopefully alleviate his headache, it would also do wonders for his nerves. He’d hardly been able to concentrate, wondering if Mr. Larabee intended to bring Vin to the meeting. Not that he should, not that he shouldn’t. Vin after all nearly ran Groundskeeping, so bringing him to the meeting would be in no wise out of place.
But merely contemplating the possibilty made Ezra’s headache expand exponentially.
He muttered something even he couldn’t make out to the stiff, starched, stuffy secretary outside Judge Travis’ office, and hoped his legs and his equilibrium would carry him at least as far as his car. Approaching the parking lot, he saw a pizza delivery boy going into Chase Hall, and he automatically said to himself ‘I see that Mr. Larabee continues to have an abysmal sense of cuisine.’
Then it hit him - was Vin in there with Chris? Were they having lunch together? They often lunched together before - before -. Ezra was surprised to realize that it rankled him to think Vin was not only at work, but answering emails and eating lunch. What difference did it make, and what difference should it possibly make to Ezra what Mr. Tanner was doing with his time these days?
Ezra found his headache suddenly compounded by the intense sensation that the top of his head was about to give way under the pressure. He gave up all thoughts of driving off campus, and instead turned his steps to the Health Clinic.
+ + + + + + +
A light tap on the door and a teenage boy carrying two pizza boxes and a couple liters of soda pop peeked cautiously into the office. "Chase Hall, room 111? Delivery for Mr. Larabee?"
"Yep. You can set it here on my desk." Chris came around the desk, and stood so that the delivery boy had to look away from where Vin still slept behind his computer. He paid the boy, and tipped him reasonably, and waited so that he could shut the door behind him. He turned back to find Vin slowly coming awake, sitting up. One hand rubbed his the back of his neck, the other pulled the photograph of his parents close to his chest. "You okay?" he asked. Vin shrugged.
"Just sleeping. Painkillers knock me out. Food’s here?"
"Yeah." Chris pulled his chair over to Vin’s desk and slid the computer a little out of the way so they could eat together. Vin opened his box of cheese, pepperoni, broccoli and pineapple pizza, and stared down at Chris’ spartan choice of just cheese.
"Y’know, a pizza with just cheese on it is like milk without chocolate. Why bother?"
"You want me to tell you what they put in pepperoni?" Chris countered.
"Not if you want that to stay just a cheese pizza." Vin threatened. "Think I oughtta sit closer to the bathroom door anyway, just in case. I’m not making any promises of this staying down." Chris gravely pulled his box all the way to the corner of the desk, behind the computer monitor. Vin cocked an eyebrow. "Don’t underestimate me." Chris wouldn’t let that pass.
"Are you okay? I’m not worried about my lunch either. Or having to pay Mrs. Webber overtime. I told you that you didn’t have to be here any longer than you wanted, and half a day is already over."
Vin frowned over his pizza and Pepsi, and seemed to give it honest consideration. "I wanna stay Chris. I’m actually getting stuff accomplished, and I didn’t think I would. I got a list of work needs to be done and I been emailing Sam back and forth, having him get the guys out to do the work. I bet I got more Maintenance work scheduled this morning than James got around to in the last month. School’s starting up again in a couple weeks, the place needs this work to get done." He cleared his throat. "I need this work to get done Chris. I need to accomplish this."
+ + + + + + +
Ezra rarely availed himself of the Campus Health Clinic. His ailments were his own concern, and he had no wish to reveal them to his friends, even when those friends were licensed professionals. But this day, and this headache, forced his hand and he allowed himself the luxury of immediate care and treatment. Nathan was on duty, and after a brief exam and several questions, he gave Ezra a dose of Tylenol with codeine with a bottle of water. Then he had him lie down in a dim room with the curtains drawn, and the lights turned off.
"I’ll check on you in awhile Ezra. Try to get some rest now. There’s an emesis basin on the table right next to the bed in case you get sick."
"Thank you Mr. Jackson." Ezra said, from behind a cold washcloth pressed over his eyes. "If my brain cells do explode and scatter themselves about the room, would you be so kind as to gather them back together for me?"
"I’ll do that Ezra - now I’m gonna shut the door and leave you in peace, all right?"
"Nathan?" Ezra removed the washcloth; he had to tell someone else. "Did you know that Vin is on campus? I believe he may be helping Chris deal with the James debacle. I’m surprised - I didn’t think - that is to say, one would imagine that after such a...I’m surprised, that’s all." He replaced the cold washcloth and set his hands, clenched into fists, down at his sides. Nathan shook his head as he shut the door over.
"I’m going to have go check on that boy."
FORTY-SEVEN
Lunch was uneventful. The pizza and Pepsi stayed down, Vin stayed awake. Mostly to wonder out loud how Chris could even contemplate a pizza with nothing but cheese."This from the man who’s combining pineapple with tomato sauce." Chris grumbled. "That’s just not right..." and Vin responded by taking a big, messy bite of just that. He nearly choked on it though, and had to wipe pizza sauce from his mouth. Chris nodded knowingly. "That’s what you get for mocking the pizza gods."
"Pizza gods..." Vin muttered. He took a swallow of Pepsi to wash everything down. "Speaking of people who set themselves up as almighty - what time is that board meeting a’yours? Wouldn’t want to keep the likes of Conklin and Mrs. Stephens waiting y’know."
"Aw hell..." Chris turned awkwardly to get a look at the old schoolhouse clock that hung on the wall across from his desk. "Guess I should be packing up to get over there. I hate board meetings." He packed his trash into his wastepaper basket and rolled his chair back behind his desk. "Nobody is willing to make a decision all on their own, nobody wants to incur Conklin’s outrage, nobody wants to risk Mrs. Stephen’s money. Jellyfish, each and every one of them..." He grabbed a legal pad and pen, and pulled his suit jacket off the coat tree next to the filing cabinets.
"Ezra gonna be there?" Vin asked.
"I guess so, he always is."
"I mise well work on that hole in his wall while he’s out of his office then. Got everybody else working or on lunch right now." Vin similarly threw out his trash and eased himself up and standing out of his chair. "Think you might take a detour to my office? I’ve gotta get some supplies."
"Sure."
+ + + + + + +
This time, walking across the campus, Vin felt better than he had this morning. Maybe it was eating lunch. Maybe it was getting work done. Maybe it was encountering JD and Ezra, and surviving. Whatever it was - he kept a confident pace with Chris’ admittedly slower than normal walk, and repeatedly reminded himself to keep his eyes off the ground.
The Groundskeeping building offered a wealth of familiar smells, and Vin took in a deep, welcome breath of wood, paint, fertilizer, motor oil, and hand cleaner. He felt even steadier, back on home territory. This was his space, in many ways. Here he was never never unsure of how or what or why.
Just standing in the dusty atmosphere made his aches and pains seem less. He filled a plastic pail with the assorted things he’d need to patch a hole in a wall, and waved off Chris’ offer to carry it. "Like you’d want to walk into a board meeting with plaster dust on your good jacket. I’m good, I’ve got it."
And he stood a little straighter as he walked with Chris over to Rockwell Hall.
+ + + + + + +
Ezra was awakened from his less-than-restorative respite by the Rockwell clock tower chiming two pm. He uttered an uncharacteristic vulgarism. "I’m late for the board meeting. Judge Travis will have my head." He propelled himself upright, and reeled from the combination of pounding head and rolling stomach. "And he is quite welcome to it..." All clinic personnel seemed to be otherwise engaged, and so Ezra’s progress from exam room to front door was unimpeded.
The sun was much too bright for his physical comfort, and he had to walk directly in its path to return to his office and the meeting. By the time he accomplished the Green, his eyes were burning. He made his way blindly up the marble steps into Rockwell Hall, and felt more than viewed his path to his office. He set his hand on the doorknob, intending to rest a moment, but the door wasn’t shut tight and gave under his weight.
He stumbled slightly, blindly, into his office as the door swung open. He expected to fall and was surprised to feel hands catching him, and supporting him to a chair. With the pain and nausea and surprise, he could hardly make out the voice speaking to him, but he gratefully took the paper cup of water that was momentarily pushed into his hands and he drank it down in a few swallows. He settled back in the chair and took a chance to open his painful eyes.
"You have my undying gratitude -." Ezra stopped in shock.
Vin.
Big as life, standing over Ezra, with only concern on his face- albeit a small amount of eccyhmosis as well - there stood Vin. Ezra couldn’t decide if he should continue with his discourse of indebtedness - or run like hell.
"You need Nathan?" Concerned by the pale, shaking figure before him, Vin completely forgot the unspoken bad feelings between him and Ezra. "You look like you haven’t got an ounce of blood left in you."
"I - I - no, I don’t believe I currently require any medical intervention..." Ezra’s stammering and pointed avoiding of his eyes brought the mess back to Vin’s memory. He stepped away from the chair and turned back to the wall he was repairing.
"Didn’t mean to surprise you." he said, as he taped the seams of the plasterboard patch. "Thought you’d be in that meeting. Wanted to get this hole taken care of for you..."
"Yes, well..." Vin heard Ezra go to his desk and gather up some papers. "I myself expected to be present as the gathering commenced; I was, however, forestalled by a rather monstrous headache which even now threatens to relieve me of whatever sustenance I may have comsumed in the past eighteen hours."
Vin let him talk, and waited for him to leave. Ezra was talking in his nervous voice - he was nervous being near Vin. A couple of clicks on briefcase locks, and a few unsteady steps to the door, and they’d be rid of each other again.
With the patch taped, Vin bent down for another putty knife full of joint compound. His ribs twinged, which made his body stiffen, which made his back spasm. He sucked his pain in through his teeth, and forced himself to stand upright in front of Ezra, no matter how much it hurt. God only knew what Ezra was thinking, but Vin wasn’t going to have him thinking that he was broken down.
Three more steps, two more steps, Ezra would be out the door and Vin could let out his pent up ‘owwww’. But Ezra didn’t take that last step. He stopped just at the door, and Vin gave him a glance to figure out what he might be waiting for.
"Mr. Tanner..." and for the briefest second Vin was absolutely sure he saw concern in Ezra’s eyes. But then it was gone, and Ezra gestured to the wall. "Thank you." and was gone, unsteadily, down the hall.
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