I finally decided that I needed to call someone. I'd get nowhere just sitting here on my own with no possessions other than a retro three-piece suit. I thought about calling Lydia, but I didn't want to deal with her at the moment. She'd probably tear off into a rant of some kind, and I didn't need that just now.
I decided to call Brad.
With great effort, I raised myself up out of the lobby sofa—which was more comfortable than I had anticipated—and made my way over to the front desk.
"Yes, sir," the pretty brunette behind the counter asked. "How can I help you?"
I put on the most pathetic face I could muster. "My wallet was stolen," I said, "and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call a friend of mine. It would just be a local call."
Her face nearly crumbled. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sir. That's horrible. Just follow me to the end of the counter, and I'll give you the courtesy phone."
She moved to my left and stepped to the far end of the counter, where she lifted a phone from her lower countertop up to my higher one.
"Thank you very much," I said, still trying to sound like someone who'd lost his wallet. Which wasn't difficult, because I had, in fact, lost my wallet. I knew where it was. I just couldn't get at it. Nor did I have any expectation of being able to get at it any time in the near future. Ergo, I had lost my wallet.
I picked up the phone and poised my finger over the buttons. It wasn't until that very moment that I realized I couldn't remember Brad's number.
The day was going exceedingly well, I thought.
"Excuse me," I said to polite, helpful, and pretty brunette behind the counter. "Would you happen to have a phone book?"
She smiled and returned to my location. "Certainly, sir." She reached under the counter and produced a phone directory.
"I seem to have lost my memory as well as my wallet."
She smiled at my brave attempt to be humourous despite my dire circumstances. "I'm sure the same thing would happen to me in that situation," she said. "It's very stressful, I can imagine."
She couldn't imagine, really. No one could. I'd been through things in the last couple of days that no one would believe, let alone imagine. I didn't say anything of the sort to her, though. I just smiled and thanked her again.
I flipped to the back of the phone book, to the "W" section, and scanned for "Williams". There were a metric ton of them, but fortunately only a few "B"s and only a couple of "Bradley"s. I chuckled quietly to myself at Brad's unforunate full first name, and began dialling the phone.
Again the image from Star Trek rose up in my mind, and I heard Spock, in his awkward gangster imitation, saying "I would advise youse to keep dialin" as he held a Tommy gun on one of the bad guys.
The phone rang about five times before Brad picked up.
"'Lo?" he said, his voice croaking with what I assumed to be sleepiness.
"Brad? It's Jack."
"Dude! Where've you been? People are looking for you."
I felt a bolt of panic surge up from my stomach through my chest as I imagined the shadowy and mysterious organization that had taken me to their lair.
"What kind of people?"
Brad cleared his throat. "Jesus, man. Don't sound so paranoid. Lydia and your other band guys. And a couple of people from your store."
I hadn't realized I was so popular.
"Christ, I haven't been gone that long. What's their problem?"
"Are you even, like, on this planet, man? People are fucking worried about you. You tried to off yourself, for Christ's sake. You think people aren't going to worry?"
I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Yeah, okay. I understand that. I just wasn't able to call anyone until now, that's all."
"Well, that's pretty fucking inconsiderate of you, dude. You didn't even tell anyone where you were going."
"I know. It couldn't be helped." I tried to control my breathing, but my rising agitation was making it difficult. "Listen, Brad. I need your help, okay? I'm at the Holiday Inn on Robie and Quinpool, and I don't have my wallet or keys or anything. Any chance you could come and get me? I'm in kind of a tight spot."
I could hear faint breathing on the other end of the line for a moment.
"Jesus fuck, man. Did you hook up with some chick and she stole your wallet? Cause you're an idiot like that, you know."
"Brad, the last thing I need right now is to be told that I'm idiot. Whether or not it's true, I don't want to hear it. Okay? And no, I did not hook up with some chick, as you so tactfully put it. I will explain the situation to you when I see you, if that isn't too much trouble."
Another pause.
"You're one demanding sonofabitch, you know that? You expect everyone to drop whatever the fuck they're doing because you need something. I don't even know why these people are worried about you. Your just about the most selfish prick I've ever met. I don't get you sometimes. Hell, most of the time."
My breathing continued to struggle against me.
"This is one helluva time for a lecture. Can you not tell from the tone of my voice that I'm in real trouble here? Can you, even for a minute, forget about all that and just come out and help me?"
"Jesus." He muttered something unintelligible, which was just as well as far as I was concerned. "Where'd you say you are?"
"Holiday Inn. Robie and—"
"Yeah, yeah. I know where it is. Gimme fifteen minutes."
"Thanks, Brad. You're a prince among men."
"You owe me, dude."
"I owe you big time."
"You'd better remember that."
He hung up before I could say anything else. I put the phone down, hung my head, and let out a long, drawn-out breath.
"Are you okay, sir?" the girl behind the desk asked.
I nodded without looking up. "My friend's giving me a hard time, but he's coming to get me."
"Aren't you staying for the convention?"
I raised my head and gave her a puzzled look. "Why on earth would I—?" I began, but realized before I finished the question that I looked very much like a costumed convention attendee.
"Oh," I said. "Right. The convention. I'm going to come back after I take care of a few things."
She smiled. "That's good. I'm glad you're not going to miss out."
I returned the smile and handed the phone book back to her. "No, I don't think I'll be missing anything," I said.
I turned to face the lobby. I gave my head a slight shake and took a deep breath. The adventure would continue. I had a ride away from here, but I was now faced with the prospect of explaining to Brad what I was doing in this getup.
I decided to return to the comfortable sofa and await Brad's arrival.
"Nice costume," someone said as I passed by a small knot of people waiting to check in.
I turned to look and saw that the words had come from a young woman dressed up as Princess Leia. "Thanks," I said. "Yours too."
I turned my head away and focussed on the sofa. It was my only goal at this moment. I recalled its firm but yielding seat and its high, neck-supporting back. It called to me. And I was answering the call.
As I sank my tired butt into the cushion, Dan and Rick arrived at my location to retrieve their many and sundry bags.
"You checking in?" Dan asked.
I shook my head. "No, my friend's coming to get me. I'm going to go to his place for a while and then come back."
"Don't be too long," Dan said. "You don't want to miss the opening ceremonies."
I decided against telling him that, yes, in fact, I did want to miss the opening ceremonies. "I don't think I'll miss too much," I said, opting for the same sardonic cynicism that I'd used on the desk clerk.
"Well, come and look for us when you get back," Dan said. "If you miss us down in the convention rooms, we're staying in Room 2110."
I nodded weakly.
"Okay, then," Dan said. "See you later."
He and Rick hoisted some of the bags onto their shoulders and carried the rest in their hands. As they walked away, I had a sudden image of them as the geek version of Jay and Silent Bob. Instead of profanity, Dan would come out with a constant stream of science fiction and fantasy references.
I then had another uncalled for image, this one of the actual Jay and Silent Bob playing Dungeons and Dragons. I started to chuckle, glad for the slight diversion from my miserable existence.
It was more like twenty-five minutes before Brad arrived. I had actually dozed off on the couch and was snoring slightly when he came into the lobby.
I had a sense of someone standing over me and opened my eyes.
"Jesus fuck," was all he said.
"Nice to see you too," I mumbled.
He gestured towards me. "What the fuck is all this?" he asked.
"I've switched tailors. Nice of you to notice."
He dropped his arm to his side and skewered me with a glare. "Will you cut the crap? If you're not going to tell me what the fuck this is all about, then I'm just going to turn around and drive home without you."
I sighed and sat up. "Can my tale of woe at least wait until we're out of this godforsaken geek fest?"
Brad looked around. "They're having fun, dude. You know? Fun? Ever hear of it?"
I snorted and got up from the sofa. "They're making bloody fools of themselves, is what they're doing."
"Said the man in the gangster suit."
I stood up and batted his comment away with my hand. "Yeah, well, it's easy for you to talk. You don't know how I got this way."
"Well, I'm waiting to hear, aren't I?"
"And I'm going to tell you. Just not in this throng of misfits, okay?"
"Jesus. What is it with you?" Brad turned and headed for the door. "Come on."
"Hey, nice costume," said a man in a Jedi cloak as I followed behind Brad.
"I'd advise youse to keep walking," I said.
This, to my chagrin, only served to elicit a loud hoot of a laugh from the Jedi in question.
"You love those movies and shows," Brad said as we stepped into the sunlight. "Why are you so down on those people just because they go to conventions. It's, like, their hobby or something."
"A great many of those people," I said. "Lack a little something known as social skills. And some of them smell bad."
"You're a prick, man. I've said it before, and I'll say it again."
"And you're a slob. Can we move on?"
Brad led me down Robie Street to one of the side streets, where we turned right.
"Jesus," I said. "Where the hell did you have to park?"
"Oh, yeah. Complain about my parking choice now that I've come all the way down here to rescue your sorry ass. You know what the parking's like down here. The hospital's right there, in case you forgot."
In fact, I had not forgotten. The specter of the hospital loomed long and dark to our left as we proceeded along Robie. It was not a happy place. Not to me, anyway. I tried not to look at it. It reminded me of things I didn't want to think about at this particular moment.
