Rene Gutteridge: Listen

“Need something?” Hunter asked, clutching his pillow against him.

“No. Just wanted to say hi. Hadn’t seen you all day. Guess your mom told you I’d be over at Frank’s.”

“I know. It’s Frank’s ex-anniversary, right?”

“Yeah. Had some chicken wings and stuff.”

“Cool. Chicken wings are good.”

“Yeah.”

Silence again.

Then, like a magnet pulling his face, Damien turned his head to the right to glance at the computer. Now he looked like a snoop! But shouldn’t he be snooping? Shouldn’t he be wondering? He had to save face quickly. “Hey, Frank showed me something interesting tonight. Can I borrow your computer?” He sat down in front of Hunter’s computer.

Hunter swung his legs around and his feet hit the floor. “Show me something on the computer?”

“Yeah. Believe it or not, I do know how to use one of these things. I just need you to get me on the Internet.”

Hunter walked over, took the mouse, clicked on something, and up popped a picture.

“Is this where I type in the World Wide Web thing?”

“The address. Yes.”

Damien’s hunt-and-peck method drove his son crazy, but he managed to get it all typed in and push Enter.

“What are you doing?” Hunter asked.

“Someone has started a Web site about our town. It’s kind of weird. They’re posting conversations. Only conversations. Frank says it’s not a blog. Take a look.”

Hunter leaned over Damien’s shoulder, then said, “Yeah. Okay. Cool.”

Damien spun in his chair, trying to act enthusiastic. “What do you think about it?”

Hunter shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either. It’s a little strange. Why would someone want to post conversation after conversation? Is that something new? Like a clog?”

“Clog?”

“Conversation log.” Damien laughed. “Sorry. Just being funny.” He spun back around to look at the computer. “Anyway, I just thought you might find it interesting. But maybe not. It’s probably pretty boring to you. But you know me…”

“You love words.”

“I love words. Words are important. Words-”

“I know, Dad. Connect us.” Hunter stood next to him, looking at the screen. “Somebody has too much time on their hands. But maybe there’s a point to it.”

“Maybe.” Damien stood and pushed the chair against the desk. They were connecting here. This was good. “I got the investigative reporter job today, so I’m probably going to have to start using a computer more for research and things like that. I was wondering if maybe you could show me a few things this weekend, like how to do research using search engines.”

“Sure. No problem.”

Damien grabbed Hunter’s shoulder and pulled him into a quick hug, then went to the door. “You know you can always come talk to me. About anything. You know that, right?”

Hunter nodded.

“And that I’m always proud of you. You’re a good kid, and I’m amazed at how much you know about computers. I know you’re going to go places.”

Hunter’s dull eyes of late brightened a little. “I kinda want to do what you do.”

“What I do?”

“Yeah. I think it’s cool how you write stuff and people respond and how you can change people’s minds and make people think about things. Like that.”

Damien couldn’t stop the smile on his face if he wanted to. “Really? I had no idea you even thought about it.”

“Not all the time, Dad. Just sometimes. Don’t get carried away.”

Damien grinned. “Good night, Son.”

Damien quietly shut the door and glanced down the hallway. Kay was coming up the stairs and going into their bedroom. Damien followed her in.

“There you are!” she said. “I was looking for you.”

“Just chatting with Hunter.”

“Oh. Everything okay?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Usually you two talk if there’s something wrong.”

This probably wasn’t the time to mention their son might be looking at porn, especially after that little bonding moment they had back there. Maybe if he spent more time with Hunter on the computer, Hunter would have less time to dwell on other things. “How was the game?”

“The other moms were really nice to me.”

Damien paused. “I meant, did we win?”

“Yeah, yeah. We won. But I’m telling you, Jill has mental problems.”

“The one getting a divorce?”

“She’s very up-and-down with her emotions and very insecure. She actually confronted me and asked if I’d gotten someone else to keep track of the money after I’d already asked her. I’d simply said… Oh, never mind. It’s a long story. You wouldn’t understand. The point is, she’s a real pain to be around. We’re going to see if we can figure out how to get her uninvolved.”

“We?”

“And she can’t seem to dress her age. The miniskirts are outrageous.” Kay disappeared into the closet and emerged with a blouse. She held it up to herself in the mirror. “What do you think?”

“Looks good.”

Kay turned to him. “Wouldn’t it embarrass you if I wore a tank top and a miniskirt?”

Damien smirked. “Embarrass? Not sure that would be my first reaction.” He winked and tried to pull her close.

She batted him away. “I’m being serious.”

Damien didn’t say so, but he thought it was strange she was thinking so much about what people were wearing. Usually she just reserved that for their daughter. “Jenna home?”

“No. Told her she could go out with some of her friends for a little while.”

“It’s a school night.”

“I know. I know. But she’s been so depressed and moody, it’s hard for me to say no to things she wants to do. I told her to be home in forty-five minutes. She’ll live. Plus, I know these moms. They’re normal. They have the audacity to wear pants, for heaven’s sake.”

“All right. But I don’t want this to become a habit. We haven’t spent sixteen years enforcing rules so she can pout her way out of them.”

“I totally agree. It’s just that these girls make good grades, and I think they’d be a good influence on Jenna.”

Damien wasn’t sure what there was to influence. Jenna had always been a good kid and still was. Sure, she’d been moody, but she was a teenager.

Damien tickled her ribs. “Okay, so let’s talk again about that tank top and miniskirt you’re going to be wearing.”

Kay shot him a hard look. “I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that.”

“You’re coming onto the force at a good time,” Frank said as they walked into the only Starbucks in town.

“Why is that, sir?” Gavin asked.

“Used to, it was only free coffee at 7-Eleven. Now we get the mochas. When I first started, police were treated even better. Free breakfasts if you’d been on all night. Lots of different perks. But that kind of faded until we were left with free 7-Eleven coffee and discount day-old donuts. That is, until Starbucks arrived.” Frank leaned on the counter. “Yeah, I’ll take a grande macchiato, upside-down, double caramel, whipped cream. Two of ’em.”

“But I don’t really like coffee.”

Frank eyed him. “I’m already suspicious of you, kid. Don’t tell me you’re an abstainer.”

“An abstainer?”

“Are you?”

“I, uh… I don’t even know what that means.”

“You eat organic?”

“No.”

“You eat meat?”

“Yes.”

“All right, fine,” Frank said. “But you better start liking this stuff. It’ll be your lifeline some days.”

“It can’t be that boring. I mean, a police officer’s job is to-”

“Frank Merret?”

Frank turned to find Patti Gable, one of Angela’s old college friends, standing in line behind him. “Hi, Patti. Good to see you.” He looked at Gavin. “Why don’t you go see if our coffees are ready.”