Ryan Jahn - The Dispatcher

The place is quiet but for the TV on the wall in the corner. It plays a series of loud and obnoxious commercials while a woman and a cook with a cigarette hanging from his lip play a game of cards.

When the bell above the door clinks dumbly, the woman turns around and says, ‘Hi there, officer.’

‘Howdy.’

‘Are you here on business,’ the cook says, ‘or are you eating?’

‘I could eat.’

‘What’ll it be?’

‘What’s good?’

‘Cheeseburger.’

‘Then that’s what I’ll have.’

‘Fried egg on top?’

‘I’ll skip that part.’

‘American, Swiss, cheddar?’

‘Cheddar.’

‘All right, coming up. Fries?’

‘Onion rings.’

‘Will you be staying with us tonight?’ the brunette asks.

‘I hadn’t really thought about it. I reckon so. I stopped here because I’m looking for-’

The door swings open behind Diego, the bell clinking, and he spins around. A stick of a woman in a denim skirt and a T-shirt, barefoot and with her hair mussed, comes in and her gaze shifts around the room till it finds him.

‘Ian wants to see you,’ she says.

There is a smear of blood on the front of her T-shirt and another on her cheek.

‘Is he okay?’

‘I think so. He passed out for a second, but I. . I think he’s okay now.’

Diego nods. ‘Where’s he at?’

She leads him outside and around to the back of the building where several single-wide mobile homes are scattered across the land, and there is Ian, walking out the front door of one of them in nothing but boxer shorts and a pair of black shoes. He is pale and his skin is almost translucent as cooked onion. His shirtless belly is very white and there is a tattoo on his right shoulder, though from where Diego is standing it just looks like a green-gray smudge. Sweat stands out in beads on his face. A tube runs from his chest and into a black satchel he carries in his right hand like a man spreading the good news.

‘Diego.’

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ the woman says.

‘I’m fine. I just lost some blood and shouldn’t have bent down.’

‘I thought you were dead for a second.’

‘I don’t kill that easy.’

‘You look pretty near it,’ Diego says. ‘You need to rest.’

‘Can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘Someone might be passing by. I need to be alert. Asleep isn’t alert.’ Then he looks to the woman. ‘Do you mind if I talk with my friend privately a minute?’

‘Yeah,’ the woman says. ‘I’ll just be up front. Sure you’re okay?’

Ian nods. ‘Thank you.’ Then he looks toward Diego. ‘Let’s go inside,’ he says. ‘I need to sit down.’

Ian sits on the edge of the bed and Diego pulls a wooden chair away from the wall and sits across from him. Diego hasn’t seen his friend since right after Henry Dean put a bullet through him and is shocked at how exhausted and sick he seems-somehow worse than when he lay in the gravel bleeding. He shouldn’t be up. He certainly shouldn’t be driving halfway across the country.

‘You killed Donald Dean,’ he says.

‘He was scum.’

‘He was a person. You didn’t have the right to-’

‘I know. I know that, Diego. But I did it anyway. I don’t give a shit about right or wrong. I want my daughter back. Once she’s safe, then I’m willing to face the consequences for what I’ve done. . and for what I haven’t done yet. But until then, nothing is gonna stand in my way. Not Donald Dean, not a bullet, and certainly not you.’

‘You try to face off against Henry Dean in the shape you’re in, he’s gonna kill you.’

‘I don’t have a choice. He might be coming down that stretch of road in the next hour or two, unless the law catches up with him first, and I can’t be asleep if he does.’

‘It’ll be dark by then. He might drive right by.’

‘He might. If he does, I know where he’s headed. But if I’m not ready for him and he does decide this is the place he’s getting me off his back. .’ Ian coughs into his hand. The sound is wet and comes from a very deep place. Ian’s face turns red. When he is done coughing he looks at his hand.

‘Let me see.’

Ian opens his palm toward him.

A meaty wad of red in its center like a Christly stigma. Ian wipes it off on his blanket.

‘You need to get to a hospital.’

‘Not happening.’

‘Ian.’

‘Goddamn it, Diego. I didn’t ask you to come here.’

‘At least get some rest. We can park our cars around back so he can’t see them from the interstate. You can get some sleep, we can go after him tomorrow and finish this.’

‘He still could stop here.’

‘I’ll watch for him.’

‘If I agree to this I don’t want you with me tomorrow.’

‘We’ll talk about that then. What you need now is rest.’

Ian closes his eyes. His mouth hangs open. He looks to be on the verge of falling asleep even as he sits there. Falling asleep or passing out, Diego cannot tell which. He wonders if Ian can. Ian opens his eyes again and looks at him for a long time.

‘You’re a good friend,’ he says finally. ‘You could have. .’

‘I’m loyal to my friends. Now get some rest. I’ll move our cars around back.’

‘And. . and you’ll watch for Henry.’

‘I will.’

‘Okay.’

Ian watches Diego walk out the door and close it behind him. He will have to convince Diego to go back to Bulls Mouth tomorrow. Ian doesn’t want him anywhere near what will have to happen if he’s to get Maggie back. But it’s good that he is here tonight. Ian is more tired than he can remember ever being. He is tired and not thinking straight. His eyes sting and his eyelids feel very heavy. If he closes his eyes that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Maggie. It doesn’t mean he won’t get her back. It doesn’t mean anything. He’ll get her back tomorrow. But tonight he can sleep. Blessed sleep. Punishing himself will not get her back, nor will it prove his love. Diego is right. He needs to sleep. Henry will kill him if he doesn’t get some rest. He lies on the bed and feels hot and cold simultaneously and slightly nauseous as well. He deserves a little sleep. Who puts a fried egg on a cheeseburger? He is very tired. He had a friend in school who used to put potato chips on his bologna sandwiches. A little sleep now and lot of sleep once he gets Maggie back. Maybe fried egg is good on a cheeseburger. Someone should close the curtains. If anybody ever asks him again if he wants fried egg on his cheeseburger he’s going to say yes. Life is short. A person should only say no if they have to.

Ian wakes to the sound of a knock at the door. He opens his eyes and sees white ceiling and a fan turning slowly. A few flies hang above him, punctuating the ceiling. His chest aches and throbs. He sits up and grabs the bottle of pain pills and pours a few into his mouth, then punches some caffeine tablets through the foil backing of the plastic sheet in which they were packaged and swallows those as well. There is another knock at the door. He gets to his feet, bending down to pick up the satchel, and he walks to the door and pulls it open.

Diego stands on the other side, looking tired. But he is showered and dressed in clean clothes and freshly shaved, though he missed a patch of hair under his left ear and another just under his chin.

‘What time is it?’

Diego looks at his watch. ‘Nine thirty.’

‘What? Fuck. What did you let me sleep so long for?’

‘You needed it.’

‘Anything last night?’

Diego shakes his head.

‘Not that I saw. Might have driven past, several cars did, but nobody stopped here.’

Ian nods.