Enim Vero Di Nos Quasi Pilas Homines Habent
 

LANGLY:

I have no idea what the little fuck has for me...he isn't looking too happy, that's for sure.

Well, he can't be any more miserable than I am.

He hands me the disk, doesn't say a word. I pop it in my zip drive.

It's encrypted, of course.

Hey, I do this for a living. And it looks like Frohike's. Which is a piece of cake for me.

Five minutes later, I have the algorithm. I don't think even Junior knew how his dad encrypted it. He'd probably figure it out, but I can do this, probably faster than he can.

Hey, he can do some good tricks, but like, my Kung Fu is the best. I even got Frohike to admit it about a hundred years ago.

There's a fucking lot of text here. This is gonna take a while.

Junior asks me if I want him to go.

I don't know.

It's like, for some reason, he and Daddy think this is a big deal...I mean, wouldn't be the first time you ever saw a Frohike overreact.

But if it's as bad as Junior's face suggests it is, maybe I better not be alone. I don't do too good alone...and I can't lay more shit on Ally right now. No way.

I tell him to stick around.
 

MICHAEL:

I almost wish he'd told me to get my sorry ass lost.

I'm gonna need a beer for this.

I ask him if he wants one, he says no.

I don't care. I'll even drink that Mexican shit Ally calls beer if that's all they have.

Kelly and Ally are both asleep when I come inside. I'm sort of tempted to wake up Kelly and help her get downstairs, but right now, I just kiss her real soft, and cover her with one of the millions of blankets.

Ally's already covered up.

And goddamn, if they don't have Sam Adams in the fridge.

There are some good things about Ally being pregnant. Better beer is one of them.

Maybe I ought to take two.

Hell, I don't think a six would anesthetize me enough tonight.

I settle for two.
 

I really don't want to go back in the offices.

Maybe I should just scream and run right now.

This is gonna be real ugly, and I'm not sure I got the stomach for it.

Mine is in knots right now.

Christ. Don't tell me I got THIS from my dad, too.

Fuck, I told Langly I'd be back. So I'll be back.

I hate being responsible.
 

Langly's sort of backlit, keeps rubbing his eyes, must be bugging him. Other than that, he's got like this stone face. No emotion. Nada. If he wasn't rubbing his eyes, I'd think he'd taken on the look of some pyscho killer, the type that doesn't feel a thing.

Maybe he's getting pushed so far he's reached that point.

No words. Not a question, not a comment, not even a jab.

I'm uncomfortable when Langly doesn't take verbal swipes at me. I'm not saying I like being dissed, but at least when he's bagging on me, I know all systems are normal.

Nothing here is normal tonight.

He keeps reading. I check my e-mail. Nothing of interest. I send a couple replies, scan the CNN site, look at the latest pictures from Cassini, which are pretty cool.

Still nothing. I wish he'd just say, 'fuck you,' or 'you little bastard,' something, anything.

But he's like the quietest I ever saw him. Which is saying a lot. Langly's not a quiet person. So seeing him like this is giving me the creeps.

He's still reading when I hear Jesse and Miranda pull in. I hope they don't come out here. They almost never do, I shouldn't sweat it.

They don't.

He didn't even hear them. Usually, he's like ready to pounce the moment she gets home.

She'll like that part tonight.

God, I feel like shit.

I feel like shit because I did something my dad told me not to do. I feel like shit because I kept this from Langly. I feel like shit because there is nothing I can fucking do!

This pisses me off. I mean, we're guys. We have to do something. Otherwise we feel like we're not doing anything.

Say what you will, it may be the 21st century, but guys are still action-oriented creatures. Sitting around waiting for stuff is not our style. Maybe it comes from in the prehistoric past where our primary function was to catch dinner, mainly dinner that was moving real fast.

It's my theory this is why women can shop and guys can't. Women way back when were in charge of gathering stuff, so they'd check everything over for bad spots and being spoiled and then they'd pick out things. Guys, we see something, looks like it'll do, we try to bag it and bring it in.

Waiting for Langly is like torture. My stomach isn't handling the beer too well, but the rest of my senses need it, big time.

I don't know what he's gonna do when he finishes.

It takes a long time. I can tell he keeps rereading segments of text over and over, and even though his face doesn't change, you can tell, it's almost like he doesn't believe it.

Or want to believe it. Take your pick.

After about two hours of this-I've been counting the minutes and calculating time in every time zone on the planet while waiting-he finally snaps off the screen. He just sits there. He's like in shock.

I walk over to him, it's real close from where I sit. I put a hand on his back.

"No, Junior," he says, in this hoarse whisper.

"No, Junior, what?!" I'm a little sharper than I want to be, but with Langly, sometimes you have to be, and sometimes you just can't help it.

"Just..."

"Fuck that, Langly! What was it you said to me when I was sick? Huh? Like quit pushing everyone out of your life, don't end up like me, let people come near you? Do you remember that little speech, Blonde Boy?"

I wasn't meaning to yell at him, but I am.

"Yeah, well, Junior, I let people get near me, THIS is what happens!" He slams the desk so hard I'm afraid the equipment's all gonna fall off. Fortunately, the only noticeable casualty is the stapler.

Fuck, that was MY stapler! Figures.

"No, Langly, that stuff happened a long time ago! And you didn't have anything to do with it! Don't you get it?"

"Yeah, Junior, I get it all right! My dad did stuff to Joanie and Scott! And a bunch of other kids!"

"He didn't do it to you."

"Yeah, well, maybe he felt guilty!"

"I think that's obvious! Also, he was forced to do it!" I HAVE read the text, and I think I interpreted it right.

"Yeah, well, all this time, everything was real different than I thought it was, and I already thought it was bad enough!"

"Langly, look, I'm sorry, we didn't show it-"

"Yeah, you didn't show it to me 'cause you figured I'd just freak out! Well, guess what, Junior! You guessed right! So pat yourself on the back for one point correct!"

He's a pretty mean SOB when he's upset. I'm trying to stay calm here, but it's not working too great.

"I mean, Jesus fuck, Junior! Where did I ever get the delusion I was capable of having a decent life?"

"You got a decent life, Langly."

"Yeah, I got one. And look what's happened."

"You got Ally."

"Yeah, and if she had any sense, she'd take her money and run."

"Well, I can't argue about the having any sense part, but she won't. Jesus Langly, get over it already! She LOVES you!"

"I don't know how. I mean, what's to love?"

Okay, this is gonna be tough...

"Well, you treat her good...most of the time..."

"Not often enough."

"You're smart and you're funny...most of the time..."

"Yeah, I'm a whole lot of laughs right now!"

"I did qualify that statement, asshole!"

"Yeah, so you did."

"And you love her. Don't you?"

I can see the tears welling up again. "Oh God, you got no idea...it's like, I don't have Ally, I'm gonna die. Like the shark she talks about, if it quits swimming it'll die. Well, Ally's my shark, and if she quits swimming, I die!"

"Dude, she's not gonna quit swimming! God, can you imagine what she'd say if she heard this conversation!"

This makes him laugh a little, a thin laugh with a lot of tears mixed in. He walks over to Byers' desk. The prof keeps Kleenex there. He subsidizes all of us.

I still owe him from last winter. He hasn't said anything.

Blows his nose, and says sadly, "She'd say, 'Langly, get real and get over it, I love you.'"

"So there you go."

"Yeah, well, Ally...she's like real grounded, she doesn't get weirded out like this."

"What about when her husband died? I mean the first one."

"Well, I mean, whaddya expect? She was bummed, pretty messed up. But she was still grounded. Knew what she had to do. Me, I don't have a fucking clue."

"Maybe you're not supposed to have a clue. Maybe you oughta just do what they ask."

Another congested, harsh laugh. "Oh yeah, I do that, I let my sister die in peace!"

"So what's wrong with that? Isn't that what she wants?"

"Yeah, that's what she thinks she wants."

"What do you want?"

"I want her to live, goddammit!" Fresh storm. More tears. He's given up on the glasses now.

"My dad always says wanting and having aren't the same thing."

"Doesn't he know it." Bitter voice, sad.

"Yeah, actually, he does."

This quiets him down a little. "Yeah, I know. Y'know, even though I could kill him for keeping this from me...in a way, I know why he did it...he's been real good to me. And for what? So I can give him more shit?"

"Ah, he likes you, you know it!"

"Yeah, well, I piss him off a lot."

"I piss him off a lot, too, you idiot! But he still cares."

"You're his kid."

"He thinks of you like one of his kids."

This makes him sniffle some more. "Yeah...I mean, it's like...I thought when I was little, my dad was the greatest...and then he was gone...and now he's still gone...and I find out he's a lot different than I thought he was...it's like, feeling like the devil's spawn, you know? I mean, you're a little fuckrag, Junior, but you got a good dad, he's always been a good person."

"I think he has." Kind of belatedly, but better late than never, I guess.

"Makes me wonder what kind of kid I've spawned. Makes me even wonder if I deserve this kid."

"Jesus fuck, Langly, you're having the kid! Doesn't matter what you think! It's coming!"

"Yeah. But sometimes, man, in the middle of the night, I wake up, and I dream Ally lost this baby...again...and it's like if this one gets lost, the door gets closed...I'm like real afraid if this one doesn't take, she'll say, that's it. No more."

I could understand Ally saying no more. I really could. I'm not sure she was totally sane when she agreed to this project in the first place. But I don't say this to him. Not now.

"Langly, what are you gonna do if Ally loses this baby?" He said it, not me. It's bugging him. You can tell.

He looks real hopeless now. "I dunno. I mean, I can't make her do it again...and I won't...but God, it's like, you ask for one thing to go right-one fucking thing-and it's too damn much to ask!"

"Ally's fine, Langly."

"Not really. If she was fine, she'd be able to go to work, hit the market, clean the house, you know, not be camping on the sofa...I'm just afraid that even if we do everything right, something'll go wrong..."

It could happen.

"And then, I don't know what the hell I'll do. It's like, this is my last chance, if I blow it-"

"Langly, whaddya mean, if you blow it? How are you gonna blow it? Jesus, aren't you doing all you can for this?"

"I dunno."

"I mean, maybe sometimes shit just happens, you know."

"Yeah. Over and over again." He's looking utterly depressed.

"Langly, what're you gonna do when Joan's gone?"

I know, that's a real cruel question, but maybe if he thinks about it, he'll get some answers. He's a bright boy. Just not a very level one sometimes.

"I keep hoping something'll happen..."

"Langly. No. She's dying. What are YOU gonna do?"

Sometimes you just gotta smack that boy in the face to make him listen. Even if you just use words.

He actually quiets down long enough to think. "I dunno, Junior. It's like...I'm just gonna miss her so much..." New tears. "Y'know, lots of people die on me...but it's like, they've always died by surprise. So I just had to deal with that. I dunno, no experience in this planning to die business. I don't know what to do."

"Are you gonna visit her some more?"

"Much as I can. Much as she can take. Which isn't a lot right now. She's pretty weak."

"You gonna be with her when she dies?"

That takes us both by surprise. I have NO idea where that question popped out from.

"I don't know. It's like, I want to be...and I don't want to be..."

"You know, Langly, for a bright boy, you have a real hard time making up your mind."

This actually gets the lopsided smile. "Yeah, well, I'm kind of a follower. Decision making's not my strong point."

"Yeah, well, not mine, either." And it's true. I'm also a follower. And I don't do decisions well.

Maybe this is good. With Dad, there's only one decision. His. Most times I go along with it.

Most of the time.

"So what're you gonna do, fuckrag?"

"Jesus, Junior, talk about pressure!" He's sort of laughing, just a hint of it. "I don't know. I think...I'd like to be with her when she goes...but I'm sort of scared about it...maybe I oughta ask Jo. She and Jo talked about it. They sort of have it all arranged. What Jo's gonna do and stuff."

"Jo's good people. I used to think she was kind of nowhere, then I figured her for a nice lady but not too interesting, but then she went to the shore with us, and you know something? Jo is very, very cool."

"Maybe I'll ask her what to do."

"Good plan, asshole. Since you don't do decisions so great, why don't you? I mean, ask somebody else. And try listening for a change."

Now he's laughing a bit more. "Guess I'm not exactly a great listener, am I?"

"No, mostly you're a lousy fuckrag!"

"Makes two of us, Junior!"

God, I never thought I was gonna see him laugh again.

Then he's quiet...and I see the gears grinding in his brain...

"Junior? You don't suppose...what my dad did with Joanie has something to do with what she's got now..."

"Long time ago, dude. I think you're reaching." And I do.

He slumps down. "Yeah, you're probably right. Just trying to grab on to anything."

I give an evil grin. "We could plant a pipe bomb in your boss's office."

This makes him laugh. "Sorry, Junior. We're way ahead of you. Used to be, when Sheridan was boss, we'd do our work and joke around. Now we spend most of our time trying to think of creative ways to do him in." This makes him laugh. This is good. It may be contagious, start spreading all over him.

"You could just quit, you know. Not like you guys can't afford it."

"Lemme tell you something, Junior. I'm not gonna live off my wife's money. I know, she says it's both ours, but it's hers. It came to her. And mostly it's for Miranda. It really is. And also, you know, it's like, this is still in a lot of ways a real cool job. I hate my boss, and it's a drag right now. But it's like, I quit, I concede that I'm a fuckup. Right? And I'm not gonna do that."

Oh man. The guy pride thing. Don't I know this one. I mean, I told you, we're in the 21st century, but guys, well, I don't think we've risen out of the primordial slime yet.

He's a lot calmer than he was a while ago. Still looks white as a sheet, in shock, and it's probably gonna take him a long time to digest what was in the text.

The text. "Uh, Langly, do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"Like, I wasn't supposed to show you the files, if my dad finds out, he'll strangle me-"

"You mean he doesn't have enough cause already? Look, Junior, we'll keep it quiet, okay. I mean...this is a lot to take right now. And...no, I'm not gonna talk about this with Joan. Even if she knows, she won't tell me...and I'm not gonna fuck up the last days of her life with my shit..." He blinks back tears again. "I'm gonna tell Ally, though. She's gotta know. After the baby comes."

You idiot, tell her now!

But he won't. He's trying his ass off for her. In his own way.

There's a loud bang on the door, and we jump about thirty feet in the air.

I check the video monitor, and who should it be but Princess Miranda.

"Langly! Wicked stepfather!"

"Yeah!"

"Look, I can't sleep and I'm starving! You wanna have a junk food pig out with me?"

Langly thinks about this. "We got cookie dough?"

"Two tubes of it!"

"And Cherry Garcia?"

"We got that, too."

"Okay, you're on! Be in in a minute! Now get your ass inside!"

He starts snapping off the lights. "If you don't mind, Junior, I think I need to go get indigestion with my stepdaughter...I could use some cookie dough. And ice cream..."

The way my stomach feels right now, I think that'd be a bit intense for me. But hey, whatever works.

"Go pig out with your daughter."

"I'm gonna do that. Hey Junior?"

"Yeah?"

"You are such a fuckrag!"

"Takes one to know one!"

In case you didn't get it, that's thank you. In guy-speak.

END OF PART 20