Sick Man by Paul Spencer

Author:Paul Spencer [Spencer, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-18T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 20 – Back to the Grind

After Linda hung up I got myself another beer and sat back down. I felt exhausted. I tried to fight it by puzzling over what Larsen’s next move might be, but I couldn’t get anywhere. I still had no idea of the connection between Aaron and me. Was Larsen really behind the death threats? Why would he want me killed? Maybe Linda would be able to help me figure it out. I sure as hell couldn’t get any further on my own tonight. I gave in and turned on the TV, flipped through the channels for a while.

I settled on a Blazer game, with Portland down by a dozen late in the third. I nursed my beer and pizza until midway through the fourth quarter without the Blazers getting any closer, then flipped through channels some more. Nothing really stuck, so I switched back to the game, and left it on in the background while I cleared up.

Over the next hour I meandered my way through a couple more beers. I tried the TV for a while longer, but still I couldn’t find anything to hold my attention. I picked up a book and stared at the same page for ten minutes. The real world just kept seeming farther away, so eventually I gave up and went to bed.

I slept fitfully, brief bouts of strange dreams interrupted by sudden alertness. I had just settled in to a calm sleep when my alarm clock screamed in my ear. Time to go to work. For the next half hour I went through the motions of shaving, showering, and getting dressed. Two cups of coffee finally got my motor running, and by the time I grabbed a brown-spotted banana and headed out the door, I was looking forward to getting to the factory.

As I’d promised Tony, I drove to work, instead of my usual commute on the bus and light rail. For safety reasons, mostly – I figured I’d be less exposed – but also I was in a hurry to get there. My plan worked. Despite some rough traffic on 99 near Sellwood, I made it to work by seven. It was still dark outside.

I went inside and grabbed my hard hat and high-visibility jacket from the locker room, then headed out onto the factory floor. Most of my work happened at the far end of the assembly line, where we assembled suspension mechanisms and bolted them onto the streetcar chassis. As usual my supervisor was already there, and he called me over when he saw me.

“Mick, how are you feeling?”

“Much better thanks, Dave. Some Nyquil and a decent night’s sleep did the trick.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said. He took off his hard hat and wiped his brow. “Listen, I hate to have to say this, but skipping a couple of days wasn’t smart. I know the overtime has been hard on everyone, but if you bail out when the pressure’s on, people notice.” He flicked his eyes towards the upstairs management offices that overlooked the factory floor.

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