Late Edition
~tarotgal
If you were
to pick one season anywhere, it would be springtime in New York. Or it could be
summer in Orlando. Or it might be autumn in the Appalachian Mountains. But it
would not, by any stretch of the imagination, be winter in Chicago. Meow! Gary rolled
over in bed, pulling the fluffy covers and his pillow with him. The chill in
the room was terrible and his bed was so very warm. He'd been out until
midnight in the subway station, freezing and waiting for the rails to freeze
just so he could call it in and save a few dozen El passenger's lives. He'd
tried calling earlier but they only reassured him that they would take care of
it. But they thanked him and jumped on his second call, especially when he
claimed to be an El driver. Then it broke down briefly on his way home, and he
had to spend another hour doing some inventory Marissa had left for him at the
bar. It was nearly four in the morning when he'd showered and slipped into bed.
And now the paper wanted him up at six? He didn't think so. Merrrow! "Not yet!"
came Gary's muffled, rough reply from beneath the pillow as he pulled the
blankets up from his chin to just below his nose. "Another hour?" Merrroow!
Hisssssss! Gary sighed
and threw off the covers. "All right! I'm coming!" He walked briskly,
barefooted in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Crossing his arms over his chest, he
shivered, and walked a little more briskly. He unlocked the door and swung it
open to find the cat. It darted in past him, brushing up against his leg in a
blur. The tail was all Gary saw disappear around the counter in search of food
or milk. "Good morning to you, too," he mumbled as he squatted down to pick up
the paper. But there
was no paper to be found. His eyebrows narrowed as he surveyed the hallway. Not
a person or animal in sight. Nor was there a newspaper. He headed back in,
leaving the door open just in case. "Cat, where's the paper?" he asked, poking
his head around to see the cat lapping some water out of its bowl as if it were
any normal morning. He looked up at him, then darted across the room to his bed
and curled up in the nest of blankets, still warm from Gary's few hours in
them. "Oh, big help you are." He walked over to a chair and fell into it, picking
up the phone and dialing Marissa's number. One ring.
Two rings. Three rings. Answering machine. Gary sighed. She must already have
left for work. He hung up and dialed down to the bar. One ring. Two rings. Answering
machine. Gary listened to himself going through the normal hours of operation
speech and thanking himself for calling. He then waited for the tone and left a
message. "Marissa, when you get in, come up here. I have a situation. Thanks."
He put the phone down again and rubbed his nose roughly with a fist as he
thought. Gary sniffed roughly and sat back in the chair, bracing himself with
the arms as the handsome man "ahhhEhshhhh! arrSHoooo!" sneezed twice. He
rubbed his knuckles beneath his nose and sniffed again, mumbling something
about keeping his apartment too cold. Walking over to the wall, he turned up
the heat a little more. Loud purring sounded from the bed
where the cat was stretched out and sleeping. "Must be nice!" Gary muttered
through a yawn, pacing around, checking the hallway every few moments to be
sure the paper was not there. And Gary was not thinking clearly. He felt as if
he were in a daze, with a headache and a cloudy mind. It wasn't
there. No paper. Where in the world could it be? If the cat was here, and the
paper was not... it must have been taken. But why? And who would have? Only a
handful of people knew about it. And none of them would have... except for maybe...
"Chuck!" Gary raced back to the phone, punching in the numbers. One ring.
Two rings. Three rings. Four rings. Five rings. A groggy voice answered, "'Lo?" "Chuck,
it's me. What did you do with my paper?" He heard a
yawn and a pause of confusion. "What are you talking about? I didn't touch your
paper. What time is it?" Gary
sighed. "Don't give me that. I need it back!" "Look,
Gare, you just woke me up. I'm still in bed. And unless your paper turned into
a warm bed or pillow, I do not have it!" Running a
hand through his hair, Gary sighed. Maybe Chuck hadn't taken it. Wouldn't be
the first time Chuck told a lie, but something told him Chuck was being
truthful this morning. Besides, he sounded too tired to have just darted to his
apartment and back. And he sounded too tired to be lying convincingly. "Kay...
talk to you later." He hung up the phone, more confused than ever. If the paper
wasn't there and Chuck didn't have it... where was it? Thunk! Gary's ears
perked up and he darted to the door to find a newspaper, clean and neat at his
doorstep, and a paperboy heading down the hallway towards the stairs. A
paperboy? "Hey!" Gary
called out to him, grabbing the paper and walking over. "Where'd you get this?" The boy
looked stunned, confused. "The printing offices, Sir... just like all the
others." He gestured towards the bag of rolled up newspapers slung over his
shoulder. "Why, is there something wrong with it?" Gary
glanced down at the paper. It seemed ordinary... too ordinary. "This has today's
date on it!" The
paperboy looked more confused than before. "Right... and... you wanted yesterday's
again?" Gary stood
open-mouthed, thinking. "I'm on your delivery list?" He rubbed the bottoms of
his nose absent-mindedly with the knuckles of his paper-holding hand. Nodding,
the boy answered, "Sure. Like always." Mystified,
Gary waved the boy on. "Thanks." With a
sigh, reentered the room and closed the door behind him. He stared hard at the
newspaper as he walked over to put on a pot of coffee. His head was killing him
and this was much too much excitement so early in the morning with so little
sleep under his belt. The date on it was January 8. That was today's date,
right? Right? As the coffee brewed, he turned on the television, searching for
a date. "And in the
news this morning, a bank was found robbed at the early hours of the morning.
Bank officials have no leads and unfortunately no witnesses. On the other side
of town, a pipe froze in a school and burst, injuring several janitors who were
there this morning. They were taken to country general and are expected to be
released by the end of the day." Gary's eyes grew wide. He stared at the date
in the little black box in the corner. 1/8/99 6:24:32am. Two preventable
mishaps... why had Gary not been given the chance to stop them? Where was his
paper? And why was he suddenly getting a regular paper? A terrible
feeling settled in his stomach. Maybe this was the end of it all. Maybe he'd
served his time and was now set free for a real life. Maybe the paper didn't
need him any more. And maybe this was its way of telling him. Gary felt ill at
the thought and threw the regular paper down on the floor. Whatever it was, he
didn't like it. "aeehhhCheooo! AhhhSheshhh!" He didn't much like this
either. Gary ducked into the bathroom, pulling a few tissues from the box on
the toilet tank and giving his nose a hearty blow. This is what he got for
keeping his place so cold, waking up to a runny nose. A tickling nose rather.
He stood, dazed a moment, frozen as the feelings slowly crept upon him.
Finally, he bent forward with another double, "ahhh-Cheshooo! Ahhh-Chishh!"
After giving his nose another thorough blow, Gary went back and turned the heat
up a little more. "Gary?" The
door opened and Marissa entered, walking in a few steps over the newspaper. She
bent down and picked it up, setting it on the counter gently. "Gary, what's
wrong?" she sounded terribly concerned. "Morning,"
he sighed, walking over to a stool in the kitchen and sitting down. "It's the
paper." "All
right," she was calm, quiet, and sensible. He felt blessed to have a friend
like her, especially with all the other weirdness in his life. "What about it?" Trying to
present it as neutrally as possible, "It's not tomorrow's paper, it's today's." She
hesitated to answer, thinking. Finally, "Maybe someone stole--" "Nothing
came when the cat arrived, and then the paperboy came and gave me a normal one
as if I get one every day." "Maybe it
was a mistake--" "How could
it be a mistake? What does this mean?!" Suddenly Gary realized how emotional he
sounded and quieted back down. His nose seemed to be running again, and he
rubbed at it. Marissa
calmly walked over to the cupboard, took out two mugs, and carefully filled
them with coffee. After fixing hers as she liked it, she placed the other on
the counter in front of Gary with the sugar bowl. "I don't know what it means,
but you sound terrible. Are you all right, Gary?" Her dark face was filled with
concern. Gary
shrugged, sniffling and rubbing at his nose absent-mindedly. "Just a little
worried is all. Several accidents and what not have happened today already and
I wasn't there to stop them." She nodded
understandingly. "No, I mean are you well? You sound congested. Coming down
with something?" Gary
considered it for a moment, then chuckled. "Nah, I'm ok. Just really cold in
here." "Cold!" she
exclaimed. "Not at all, it's burning up in here! What do you have the heater
cranked up to?" Not expecting an answer, she paused in wonder. "Gary, sit still
a moment." She reached out to find his shoulder, then the side of his head, and
then gently touched the back of her hand to his forehead. With a nod, she took
it down, "MmmHmm..." He pulled
back. "MmmHmm? What's that supposed to mean? MmmHmm?" Marissa
took a few sips of coffee. "You've got a fever. You're coming down with
something." Gary shook
his head. "No I'm..." he rubbed his nose violently to make it stop tickling. "I'm
fine." One of
Marissa's eyebrows raised. "Were you about to sneeze?" Still
rubbing at his nose, he answered, "No..." The tickling was only getting worse,
the urge to sneeze upon him. She
laughed. "MmmHmm. You sound congested." Unable to
stop what was becoming a very strong urge to sneeze, his head tilted back
slightly as his eyes closed. "ehhhh...ahhhShooo! ahhhIhhshhh! ahhhChishoo!"
"God bless
you, Gary." She put down the cup of coffee and put her hand on his back,
rubbing up and down gently. "You're sick, and you need to be in bed." He had to
admit he was rather tired. But sick? No. Not at all. "I'm not sick..." Marissa
sighed as she pushed him off the chair and towards his bed. "You've been up an
hour and you're still not dressed, you've cranked the heat up because you've
got the chills, and you're stuffed up and sneezing. And you say you're not
sick? I may be blind but I'm not deaf or dumb." She hovered by his bed, taking
his bathrobe as he got in reluctantly. "Now, let me make you some breakfast and
you rest." He shook
his head. "Marissa, I can't go back to bed. I have... ehhh...ahhh... I have
to--" "You have
to what?" she asked, one hand on her hip. "Save the city with the newspaper?
Nope, you didn't get it this morning." "ahhhEhhshoo!
AhhhChooo!" As Gary pulled the covers up around himself, the cat stirred
and stretched, and settled himself on Gary's stomach in a purring ball. Gary
smiled and sniffed, rubbing his runny nose. "Someone else wants me in bed I
think." "The cat?"
Marissa guessed knowingly as she heard the purrs. "Yeah."
Gary yawned and closed his eyes as he warmed beneath the blankets. "Marissa?" Halfway on
her way to the kitchen, she turned back around. "Yes, Gary?" He sniffed
and rubbed at his nose. "When you get a chance, could you get me some tissues...
from the bathroom?" Smiling her
charming, characteristic smile, "Of course, Gary. You just lie there and
relax." Gary
attempted to follow the suggestion, but his nose was tickling terrible now, and
his head was aching, making his thinking slow and fuzzy. He kept a hand up by
his nose, cupping it and rubbing beneath rather violently. When the urges were
too much for him, he held his hand up. "ehhh...ahhhhKshhhhh! ahhhChoooo!
ahhhehhShooo!" He sniffed wetly and realized how much he needed to blow his
nose. He looked up to see Marissa was nowhere in sight. "Barissa?" he called
out hopefully, not wanting to get up now that he was indeed down. She came over
with the box of tissues in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other.
"Right here, Gary," she replied, feeling around for the bed stand and putting
the drink down. "I deed a
tissew," he said in the meantime, glad Marissa could not see how miserable he
must look. Smile, she
handed him one, then thought better and handed him a few. "Dags,"
came a muffled thank you as he blew, closing his eyes. Marissa
felt around, then sat down on the side of Gary's bed. "Maybe I should call down
for them to cover the bar without us." Gary shook
his head, scrubbing at his nose with the tissues. "No, don't. I want you down
there in charge... if I can't... be there my... myseehhh..." his grasp tightened
on the tissues, pushing the bunch against his nostrils. "ahhhCushhh!
ahhhChechhh! eehhh... ehh-ahCHOO!" "God bless
you, Gary." Gary
noisily cleared his nose, then took a deep breath. "Dag you, Barissa." He
sounded awful. Marissa
felt around, then patted his leg comfortingly. "I'll finish breakfast, then
stay here until you fall asleep." He shook
his head again, struggling to get up from beneath the cat. "I deed to go dowd
to the bar at least--" She reached
over and held him down, one dark, slender hand on his shoulder. "Oh no you
don't. You're staying in bed today. The paper says so, the cat says so, I say
so, and your body says so. And if that's not enough saying so I'll call your
parents. You will stay in bed!" Well, he
certainly didn't want that by any means. "I'll stay... id bed..." he agreed,
rubbing more at his nose. At least for the morning. "ahhIhshoo! Ahh-ehhchoo!" "Good," she
replied cheerfully. "And God bless you again. Now drink up that orange juice
while I finish making breakfast." He coughed
and sipped at the orange juice. "You're all right id the kitched, thed?" She nodded.
"I'll call if I can't find something. I do cook for myself you know." "I dow."
Despite being blind, Marissa was one of the most capable women he had ever met.
He didn't like questioning her abilities, but he also didn't want to heap on a
responsibility she was uncomfortable with. After all, it wasn't her kitchen.
"Just baking sure." She nodded,
"Thanks, Gary." Only about five minutes later, she took his breakfast over to
him on a tray. "Bon appetite!" There was
toast and jelly, and scrambled eggs, along with the appropriate condiments for
the eggs. "Thags, Barissa," he snuffled, picking up a fork and taking a bite of
eggs to humor her. "I'll be ok dow." "I'm sure you will. Let me go clean up the dishes while you eat
your breakfast and I'll see to you again before I go." And she headed over to
the kitchen. Admittedly,
Gary wasn't very hungry. More sleepy and achy than anything else. "ahhhIhshhh!
ahhChooo! AhhhCheoo!" Well, aside from the sneezing of course. "ahh-Heshhoo!"
Of course. "Sniff, sniff! Sniff!" He blew his nose thoroughly and took a
second bite. The eggs, even plan, were absolutely delicious and just right- not
too runny and not too stiff. They tasted delightful; he just wished he were
hungrier. * * * One hand
crept out from beneath the blankets, reaching over to the cordless phone and
dialing. It was brought to his ear, ringing, as he coughed to clear his voice. The voice
that replied was friendly, "McGinty's restaurant and bar, Marissa speaking." "Barissa,
cad you get be ode bore thig?" A short,
soft sigh. "Of course, Gary. What do you need?" They had been playing this game
of 'one more thing' all morning long and now it would continue into the
afternoon it seemed. She'd already moved the television set next to his bed.
She'd already gotten him a hot water bottle. She'd already made him a hot cup
of tea with honey. "Cad you
get be sub cold bedicide frub the store? By doze is all stuffed ub add I keep
coughing add I still have a fever add I cad't breathe very well add--" "All right,
Gary. Let me run down to the corner store and I'll be right back." "ehhhChooo!
ahhhChishoo! Sniff, sniff! Dags, Barissa." And they hung up. Marissa
explained she'd be running an errand and, with Spike on her right, she left. It was only
10 minutes later when she let herself into Gary's place. The television was on
low and the sounds of his deep breathing signaled that he was indeed asleep.
Thankful that he was getting some sleep at least, she left the small bag of
medicine on his bed stand and tried to quietly tip toe out. Tried being
the operable word. "Barissa?" She turned
around with a sigh. "I didn't mean to wake you up. Just brought you some
medicine. The man at the drug store said it was just the thing to clear up your
symptoms." A cough,
then another clearing of the throat. "Dag you... oh! Ode bore thig?" Here they
went again. "Yes, Gary?" "Cad you sniff
get be sniff a glass of sniff ice water sniff for takig
the bills?" "Sure,
Gary." She paused, then, "You're sniffling a lot. You should probably blow you
nose." He nodded
wearily, taking up two tissues and doing just that. The bed and ground were
becoming littered with half-used, balled-up tissues by now. She brought
over the glass of water, handing it to him and patting his shoulder. "There you
are, Gary. You just read the box and take exactly what it says to." He nodded
again, knowing she wouldn't be able to see anyway. "Okay." He sipped the water,
then dug the box of medicine out of the brown paper bag. Marissa
lingered, just in case he had any questions. And in the meantime, made some
concerned small talk. "Have you been able to get much sleep?" "A little.
Off add od." He popped out two pills
and swallowed them. Making sure
she heard him correctly, "Off and on?" "Yeah. It
takes a log tibe for be to fall asleeb. Whed I do, I edd ub wakig ub sdeezig or
coughig." He yawned. "But I ab still very tired." Marissa
wasn't too sure she'd caught all that; Gary was sounding worse and worse as the
day progressed and she was more than glad he hadn't received the paper that
morning. "Well, the best thing you can do right now is sleep." "I dow."
Putting down the glass of water, he yawned again, burying his face in the
pillow. Struggling to breathe freely, he inquired, "Cad you get be ode bore
thig?" She had
been hoping all this talk of sleep would have done its trick. The more he
slept, the less he asked her to do things for him. Still, she replied politely,
"What's that, Gary?" "Cad you
get be ad extra billow frob the closet?" Certainly
not a difficult request. "Of course, Gary." It took a few minutes to find her
way there, locate a pillow amongst towels and blankets and much more, but she
returned with a pillow in a fresh pillowcase for him. "Is that better?" she
asked after handing it over. Gary
plumped the pillow, then leaned back into it, much more elevated than before.
"Ahhh... yes, buch, feels better dow. Ub, Barissa? Ode bore--" "Gary!" she
laughed, exasperatedly. "I told you I could just take today off and hang out
here if you wanted me to take care of you." Men could be such babies. Even a
man who saved the world from time to time. With a
cough. "Bud you should't have to--" "Gary, I
don't mind." Sitting down on the side of his bed, she rubbed her fingers down
the side of his face. "You're sick in bed, and I don't mind. Now, what would
you like?" Very
softly, "I could use adother box of tissues frub the bathroob. Should have sub
udder the sig" She nodded.
"All right... under the... sink?" "Yeah." He
blew his nose again. "Then I'll
be right back. Is there anything at all you want while I'm up?" "Do, sniff,
sniff, dothig." "All
right." She retrieved the box of tissues, opening them up for him on the way
back. "If there's nothing else, I'm going to go back downstairs. Just call me
again if you need me. Hopefully for more than one thing at a time. And I want
you to try to get a good sleep, ok?" "ahhhchooo!
aarshooo! ahhhChishhoo!" he sneezedm snuffling a reply, "ok." "God bless
you. And sleep tight, Gary." Marissa gathered Spike and was just
closing the door behind her when Gary called out a last time, "Barissa, ode
bore thig?" She
repressed a sigh of frustration and called back as politely as possible, "What
do you want now, Gary?" She
grinned. "Dothig, just wadted to say thag you agaid." Smiling
back, "You're welcome." Quietly, she shut the door behind. * * * McGinty's was busy when the
commotion began. It started with a woman at one of the far tables breaking into
an attack of sneezes and complaining that only cats made her sneeze. Not
seconds later, an orange cat was spotted darting around beneath the tables,
around patrons' feet. Spike, Marissa's dog, having recognized the cat, took off
after it, upsetting two waitresses with drink and entree orders in the process.
Marissa, who had been just leaving the office, suddenly found the cat bounding
into her arms with a soft meow and a purr. While the others cleaned up, she
hurriedly took the cat outside with a scolding, only to find that as she sat
the cat down in the new-fallen snow, her hand brushed up against another
familiar item: a newspaper. In a panic, she stuffed it inside her coat. She
couldn't read it, but she didn't need to. This was a special edition meant for
her, and she was certain that the date in the upper right hand corner read
January 9. She made it
a block in the light snow before finding a phone booth. Quickly she called
Chuck and arranged to meet him at a small place a few blocks from there.
Marissa didn't want to involve Gary... the paper apparently thought there was
some reason they shouldn't, and as he had finally been able to get to sleep,
with some help from the cold medicine, she certainly did not want to wake him
back up. Chuck was
already at the café when she arrived, slipping quickly into a booth and pulling
the paper out. "Yep, that's the paper," Chuck said, keeping his voice low as
they always did when discussing the paper. "The cat
just jumped into my arms and I found it on the ground in front of the store. I
can't imagine it has been there all day, we've all walked in and out of that
door a number of times today," Marissa explained. "For some reason it wanted
me, not Gary." Chuck was
silent. "What's it
say?" she asked eagerly. "This
morning's bank robbery made the headlines. A lot of news that's already
happened today... except for this one story.. about a fire." He coughed, reaching
for his water and swallowing a few gulps to clear his throat. "What's it
say?" Marissa asked, on the edge of her seat and inching forward more. Quickly,
Chick read, "At eight-fifteen last night, fire engines reported on the scene
of a fire in downtown Chicago. The fire seems to have begun in an upstairs
apartment and spread steadily through the rest. It demolished all residences in
the block as well as a popular bar and restaurant, McGinty's. There's a
picture of a bunch of people looking up at the burning building, including
Gary. Hey... he doesn't look so hot..." Marissa was
already rising to her feet. The hands on her watch read that it was already
half past seven; they would have to hurry. "He's sick. There's no time to
explain." "I'll call
the fire department," Chuck echoed, sounding a little uncertain all of a
sudden. Perhaps it was the number of predicted events that seemed to the
authorities to follow Gary around. It was all they needed to have Gary as a
suspect... but it would be better than having him homeless and out of work. * * * "Gary?"
Marissa knocked heavily on the door, trying not to sound to dreadfully worried.
It took several minutes for the door to open, by means of a tired, sniffley
Gary. "Hey," he
snuffled, letting her in, rubbing at his nose. "I fidally got to... to sleeb. Ehh...
ahhCheshh! AhhKeshoo!" "Get your
coat on, and your hat," she said, feeling around for his shoes and tossing
those to him as well. "We need to get going, now." Just as she spoke, a
smoke detector sounded in the hallway, and Spike began to bark and pull Marissa
toward the door. As they
made their way out into the hallway, there were already fire-fighters coming
through and spinning lights out the windows. Gary, cold and tired, made his way
out with Marissa right behind him. He took his place in the crowd of people
outside, looking up to watch their building, smoke billowing from the top
window of an apartment. "Don't
worry, everything'll be fine now," Chuck said with a smile, rounding a fire
engine and patting Gary on the back. Gary shook
his head. "Add just how do you dow?" "Late Edition," he replied, slapping a folded
newspaper against Gary's chest. "You picked a fine day to get sick." Sniffling,
Gary raised the back of his hand to his nose and mouth, while securing the
paper against his chest with the other. He turned, to the side, and snapped
forward. "ehhKeshooo! Ahhh-Cheshhh!" He dug a tissue out of his pocket
and rubbed at his nose, unfolding the paper with his other hand. He blinked to
focus in the dark, in the lightly-falling snow, on the paper. There was a
picture of the building as it was now, with the smoke, but nothing more. "Firefighters
were able to contain the blaze before it spread. The fire was apparently
started by neglect in the kitchen and caught in time by firefighters responding
to an anonymous phone call. The fire was contained and there was only minor
damage to the apartment." He looked over at Chuck with a smile. Laughing,
"So you did steal by dewsbaber!" The
laughter died down as the snow around became thicker. Marissa treated them to
coffee at a nearby diner until they were able to re-enter the building and be
sure both restaurant and apartment were in perfect order. Chuck headed home for
the night, and Marissa did the same after making sure Gary was back in bed for
the night. He stayed
up a while, though, hugging a pillow to his chest as he half sat up, reading
through the newspaper for the day. "ahh-Ehhshoo! ahh-Keshoo!" With all
the tissues around, he was sure the fire would have eaten his apartment for
snack if it had gotten this far. Quite fortunate he was to have such friends. A
break from the paper had most definitely been appreciated this day. But as the
Cat curled up at the foot of his bed, he had a feeling his adventures were far
from over, head cold or not.