M Sellars - The End Of Desire

Using both hands, I twisted the projection head and turned the image of the better than 150 year old newspaper 90?, which would allow me to hold my head at a less painful cant. Sitting down, I adjusted the magnification and began turning the focus ring. It took me a minute of fiddling to get it to a point that was at least readable, though a long way from what one could call sharp.

Picking my way through the scratches and dropout, I scanned the almost undecipherable blobs, trying to make sense of the vernacular of the day. I was on the verge of giving up when something caught my eye.

Reaching up, I pulled on the positioning bar and centered the frame. Tilting my head up, I focused on the words through the lower half of my bifocals. Tracing beneath them with my finger, I read silently to myself, although I could feel my lips moving slowly as I digested the words.

When I finished, I went back to the top of the paragraph and read them all again. It was at that point my heart skipped a pair of beats and vaulted into my throat.

It took reading the small, almost hidden public notice for a third time before my heart let itself slide back down into my chest. Even at that, it kept racing, fueled by a fresh dump of adrenalin.

I sat back in my chair and let a hot breath escape slowly through pursed lips, then rubbed my hand across the lower half of my face, ignoring the sharp stubble that by now must have had me looking like a bum. Pushing my glasses up, I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, simply sitting there and allowing the information to soak fully into my grey matter. Whether I was suffering from a bout of subdued elation or exhaustion-induced insanity, I didn’t know, but I heard myself let out a small chuckle.

When I finally opened my eyes, I looked to make sure the words were still displayed on the base of the reader and hadn’t merely been a figment of my exhausted imagination. Finding that it was quite real, I muttered to myself, “Miranda, you bitch.”

I leaned forward then snatched up my pencil and scribbled a couple of quick notes. Scooting the chair back, I stood, and with a rapid spin turned the crank until the film had rewound completely onto the spool. Popping it off the feed shaft, I made my way quickly across the room to the microfilm imaging station. My timing was fortunate, and there wasn’t a wait for this more sophisticated piece of equipment.

Loading up the roll, I quickly advanced it to the noted page. When it was centered to my satisfaction, I punched print, and a moment later the large format laser printer nearby hummed to life. I zoomed in and bracketed off the text then printed enlarged versions of it as well, just to make sure I had myself covered where readability was concerned.

Less than five minutes later, I was returning the spools of film to the tops of the storage bins where they belonged and then collecting the rest of my belongings.

“I made these three copies,” I said to the archive librarian behind the desk as I splayed them out on the counter for him to see. “What’s the damage?”

“A dollar-fifty,” he replied. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” I answered absently, digging through my wallet and extracting a pair of dollar bills. “An interesting part of it, anyway.”

“Let me get your change,” he said as he took the money.

I didn’t wait. I had already folded the papers, stuffed them into my backpack, and was three steps toward the elevator by the time he finished the sentence.

“Keep it,” I called over my shoulder, not bothering to look back or even slow down.

I now had a brand new piece of the puzzle. I just had to figure out where it fit and what to do about it.

“Why the hell haven’t you been answerin’ your goddamn phone?!” Ben demanded.

He wasn’t going out of his way to contain his anger, but right now I didn’t care. As long as I held the phone far enough from my ear, I was good.

“I was in a library,” I told him calmly. “So I had it turned off.”

I was telling the truth, for the most part anyway. My cell phone had really been off the entire time I was in the library. However, the real truth was that I had switched it off much earlier. The minute I pulled off the lot at the Southern Hospitality motel, in fact. Primarily, because I expected he would constantly be trying to get hold of me, and I wasn’t yet ready to be bothered.

My expectations were dead on because as soon as I was outside and punched the power button, the device began chirping with voice mail alerts. Five minutes later, when I reached where I had parked my car, it was warbling with an incoming call.

This time, however, I was still riding on the adrenalin high of my new discovery, so I gave in and answered it.

“Yeah?” he barked. “So why the fuck didn’t ya’ just set it ta’ vibrate?!”

“Because I was busy and wouldn’t have answered it anyway,” I replied. “And, with you calling every ten or fifteen minutes you would have worn out my battery.”

He grumbled something unintelligible but refrained from direct comment on my candor. Instead he launched directly into admonishing me. “Sonofabitch, Row. What were ya’ thinkin’? Do ya’ realize how much shit you coulda been in with that stunt?”

“Not answering my phone?”

“Goddammit, stop bein’ an asshole. You know what I’m talkin’ about. The shit you pulled impersonatin’ a copper!”

“Oh, that. Well, yeah, I think Detective Fairbanks made that pretty clear.”

“Yeah, well imagine my friggin’ surprise when I got the phone call this mornin’.”

“Are you sure ‘surprise’ is the right word?”

“Pissed off works too.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought you really meant. But, we both know you expected me to do something about getting into the crime scene.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t actually think you’d be able ta’ find it. Dammit, White Man, I never woulda dreamed you’d go that far.”

“Neither would I,” I admitted. “Trust me, I didn’t know I had it in me.”

“This ain’t a joke, Row.”

“I know that, Ben. But, remember, we’re talking about Felicity here. You should know by now, I’m going to do whatever it takes where she’s concerned.”

“Obviously,” he replied. “So, I guess you realize I owe this copper a big one now, don’tcha?”

“I figured as much.”

“We ain’t just talkin’ a box of cigars or somethin’ either,” he added.

“I kind of figured that too. And, by the same token, I owe you as well. But, I think I’ve pretty much been running a tab for a while now anyway.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Well, do me a favor and don’t call in your markers just yet. I might need an extension on my credit line first.”

“How’s that? Fairbanks told me you were s’posed ta’ be gettin’ outta town, ASAP.”

“I’m not done here yet.”

“As far as he’s concerned, ya’ are, and I gotta agree with ‘im.”

“I’ll be home Saturday, just like I originally planned.”

“You’re gonna get your ass in deep shit again, Row, and I ain’t gonna be able ta’ get ya’ out of it.”

“I’ll be fine if I’m careful.”

“Like ya’ were this mornin’?”

“More careful.”

“Jeezus…” he muttered. “You’re a fuckin’ piece’a work, ya’ know that?”

“So you’ve told me several times.”

“Well? Was it worth almost gettin’ locked up?”

“I don’t know for sure just yet, but I think so.”

“Did’ja end up goin’ all Twilight Zone?”

“Back to back episodes with no commercials,” I replied.