Damage Control by Timothy Gilbert - HTML preview

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Nick Johnson

I walked into the kitchen where Susan was looking through some bills at the kitchen

table. The committee meeting had me doubting my knowledge of statistics and I definitely had

some homework to do before the next meeting. This committee could open many doors for my

career, so I had to keep pace with its members.

“Hey, how was the legendary Dave Clark tonight? That wasn't a real long meeting.”

Susan took a glance at her watch which showed 7:40pm. Tom's friend, Luke, was having

a party to which Tom and Charlie could walk to Luke's house. We figured the danger of drinking

and driving could be a lot higher. Tom was upstairs on the phone.

“Well, it was pretty much a yawner, but I do need to brush up on my statistics

knowledge.”

“And I suppose you can't discuss the committee and all of the fun details, right?”

I sat down next to Susan on the couch, letting out a big exhale.

“Probably not a good idea, sweetie.”

“Did Dave behave himself?”

“Yeah, and he introduced to most of the committee. That is a group of powerful folks in

the medical community, I'll tell you. It's just kinda weird, I'm just a run of the mill doctor and to be appointed to a committee of medical stars…it's feels weird, you know?”

“I'll bet – but don't let them look down at you. You, sir, are a fine doctor. Don't ever

forget that.”

Tom came barreling down the stairs.

“Hey, Dad. What's up? Uh, Mom? I'm going over to Charlie's house before the party.”

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He grabbed a Ho-Ho out from the kitchen closet and ran out of the house. Susan ran after

him to remind him of the curfew – 11pm.

“I really don't want that boy to get his license. Can't he just stay sixteen forever?” Susan

said as she walked back into the house,

“I hear they're a lot nicer after college, though.”

That was what families with kids a few years older than Tom had told Susan and me.

The phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Oh hi, Mr. Johnson. This is Ashley. Is Tom there by any chance?”

“Ashley, I'm sorry…you just missed him.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

I wanted to ask her why she didn't know this. High school parties tend to be well

advertised among the cool kids and, as far as I was aware, Ashley was Tom's girlfriend.

“A party at Luke's house, but why….”

“Thanks, Mr. Johnson. Have a great night.”

Ashley hung up the phone and I grabbed the phone book.

Looking up the number for Luke's house, I began dialing.

“Hello?” answered a female voice.

Luke had two brothers.

“Uh, Amy?”

Amy was Luke's mother.

“Yes?”

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“Hi, it's Nick Johnson. Tom was heading over to your house with Charlie. Can you have

Tom call me when he arrives?”

A pause on the line was interrupted by Amy shouting to her husband.

“Honey, where did Luke say he was going tonight?”

Amy returned to the line. “Hey, Nick, I think they're pulling a fast one on all of us. Luke

told us he was going to a hockey game.”

My pulse raced to unhealthy levels.

“Well, we were told there was a party over at your house tonight.”

“Oh, brother…we just gave Luke a cell phone, but I see it sitting on the counter.”

“Okay, Amy? We'll let you know what we find out.”

I hung up the phone and ran upstairs to Susan.

“So…no party at Luke's house, huh?” Susan was sitting on our bed filing through some

paper work.

I sat on the bed with her, thinking it was time to wash our sheets. My pillow case was

starting to stink a tad.

“Do we get in the car and start hunting them down?” I asked.

“I'll get the torch and pitchforks.”

“Funny.”

“Alright…I'll give Leslie a call and see if she can make any sense of all of this,” Susan

asserted.

Leslie was Charlie's mother.

“Why would he lie to us about what he was doing tonight?” I asked my wife. “We're

pretty flexible, aren't we?”

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“It's that age, I think. We're the enemy.”

I gave Susan a hug. “And you want to keep him at this age forever?”

*****

Mrs. Yin and Mr.Yang - that was the label that I attached to my folks during my High

School years in the early 1970's.

“Be a fountain, not a drain.” This was a favorite expression of my mother, Janet.

To which my father, Lawrence, would always reply, “The world will kick you in the teeth

if you think like your mother!”

Dad pissed off a multitude of human beings during his walk on this earth. This was true.

It was also true that I loved the man dearly.

We lived in Chatham, N.J., in a stone Tudor on Washington Boulevard. Dad rose to the

top of a prominent New York law firm and trampled many peers in the process. He specialized in

corporate litigation and most who knew Dad regarded him to be a cold, calculating SOB. I chose

to think of Dad as remarkably stoic, and so did my beautiful mother. Families have to stick

together after all.

Susan and I met in 1981 and the first thing I noticed was her smile, how it seemed to be

able to light up the darkest of life's moments. Cynicism had dominated my family growing up

and I wanted someone who saw the good in people; the bad, this person was aware of, but it

wasn't the focus. Susan was an intelligent, happy go-getter in her career and I knew after our first date that she was the one for me. She was tough when she had be, and any women in business in

those days needed this attribute every day in the office, but Susan saw the joy in being alive.

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Friday, September 5th