Who's On First, page 6
* * * *
In spite of the day’s stressors, Charles slept well. According to the weather app on his phone, the day was going to be warm and sunshiny, and he wouldn’t need his jacket. He went down to the lobby at 7:00 and found the room where the Continental breakfast was waiting. A couple of men were already having breakfast, and they exchanged nods and brief “Good mornings” but nothing more until he put together a simple omelet.
Both men inhaled deeply. “Wow, that smells amazing!”
“Thanks.” If there was one thing he could do, and about which Marie had no idea, it was put together a decent meal.
“You ought to get a job here,” one said.
“Yeah. We’d put in a good word with the manager.”
“The Charlestown doesn’t have a restaurant.”
“We’ll talk Jason into it.” They grinned.
“Thanks.” Charles couldn’t help grinning himself. Compliments from random strangers felt good. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
The first one checked his watch. “Oh, man, we’ve got to boogie.” They began clearing off their table. “Have a great day.”
“You, too.”
“And hopefully we’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll be here, although it will be my last day.”
“Bummer. We’ll definitely tell Jason about you.” They “boogied” before he could ask who Jason was.
Oh, well. Charles added toast, strips of what was left of the bacon, and a bowl of fruit, and poured himself a cup of coffee, feeling daring, since this was something else upon which Marie frowned. He sat down and began to eat. Cooking had always relaxed him, and it was good to know he might have another course of action to take if being a janitor didn’t work out.
* * * *
He’d just finished and tossed away the disposable plates and plastic utensils, when a harried mom with three young children—two boys who were obviously twins and a slightly older girl—came rushing in. She gazed around the room and looked like she was going to cry.
“Are we too late for breakfast?”
A glance at his watch revealed there was about half an hour before the staff would close down the room and start cleaning it up. “No, ma’am.”
“Oh, thank God. I wasn’t sure anyone would be working here at this hour.”
“I’m—” Before he could tell her he didn’t work at the Charlestown, she spoke over him.
“Please, could you make some scrambled eggs for my children? We have to get to the airport, and they don’t fly well on an empty stomach.”
Sure, why not? He had some time before he had to leave for work.
“So many things have gone wrong. We’ve had to stay here at the Charlestown since the house is a disaster area. My father’s not doing well—”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you. My mother is with him, and our nanny—”
The little girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Mama, may I have a waffle.”
“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know if there’s time.”
The little girl’s face scrunched up, and her mom turned a pleading gaze to him.
“There’s no batter or waffle iron, but there do seem to be toaster waffles, if that’s okay?”
“That will be fine. Thank you.”
“No problem. Take a seat. I’ll find some booster chairs for your little ones. Would you like a cup of coffee? What am I saying? Everyone likes coffee.” As he hoped, that made her smile.
“Yes, please. I can use the caffeine.”
This was fun. Charles found the booster seats and helped her secure the children. Then he poured the mom a cup of coffee and placed stirrers, sweetener packets, and creamer and half and half minis at her elbow. “Would the children like milk or juice?”
“Do you have chocolate milk?”
A quick glance revealed nothing on the counter, but there was a mini fridge beneath it, and sure enough, there were a few individual-sized cartons. “Here you go.”
While she took over opening the cartons and inserting the straws, Charles whipped up some scrambled eggs and popped a waffle into the toaster. When everything was ready, he plated them and placed them on the table. The twins each grabbed a handful of egg and stuffed it into their mouths, while their sister broke off a piece of waffle and bit delicately into it. They were cute and well-behaved in spite of being so young.
“What would you like?” he asked the mom, almost giddy. Here was a job he could do, and as soon as Clancy Makem was better and no longer needed him—the thought depressed him, so he pushed it away—perhaps he’d look into finding a job as a cook. “I’m afraid there’s no more bacon.”
She blew out a tired breath. “Just some toast? Whole wheat, if you have any?”
“Got it.”
You’re so kind. What’s your name, please?”
“Charles.” It didn’t take very long before the toast popped up. “Preserves and butter?”
“Just butter, please.”
He whistled softly between his teeth and slathered the toast with butter. Just as he put the plate on the table, a woman dressed in the blue uniform of housekeeping bustled in.
“I don’t want to rush you folks, but as soon as you’re done, I need to shut down the breakfast bar.”
“Okay, I’m done anyway.” Charles smiled at the mom. “Would you like a refill before I head out of here, ma’am?”
“Ma’am?” The housekeeper seemed surprised. “You’re not with this lady?”
“No.”
“Wait,” the mom said. “Don’t you work here?”
“No, I’m a guest.”
“Oh my God, why didn’t you say anything?” She looked like she was about to cry. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Please.” He touched her shoulder. “It’s okay. You looked like you could use a little help.”
“But still, I’m so sorry.”
“No need to be. It was my pleasure.” He refilled her coffee cup, smiled at the twins and the little girl, and nodded to the housekeeper. “Enjoy your day.”
* * * *
Charles called for an Uber to take him to the university, and he arrived at eight on the dot.
Sanford strolled in a few minutes later. He beamed when he saw Charles. “My man.”
“I take it you had a good night?” Charles couldn’t help beaming back at him. Not many people reacted to his presence in that manner.
“I did. Lynn was very happy to hear about our vacation. As a matter of fact, I’d have taken the day off, but I didn’t want to leave you dangling. Give me your phone.”
Charles did, and Sanford added his number to Charles’s contacts. With that done, Charles sent him a text, and Sanford was able to save Charles’s number to his phone. He ran a glance over the clothes Charles wore. “It’s a good thing you’ll be replacing those.”
“Yes.” He carefully made a note of what Sanford wore.
“We’ll start with that tour I promised you, and then I’ll show you where we keep the cleaning supplies and give you a rundown of what Reed will expect you to do.”
Charles held up a notepad and pen. “I’ve come prepared.”
“Good man. I won’t keep you long, so you’ll be able to get what you need today. To start with, I’ll show you what’s behind the stage at the Performing Arts Center.”
* * * *
True to his word, Sanford sent Charles on his way after a few hours. “We’ll do more tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Sanford. This is very kind of you.”
“Don’t let Reed hear you say that.”
No. Martin Reed had come across them as Charles scribbled down some notes about storage in the chemistry building, and he’d exploded. Reed’s attitude would have made sense if Sanford was revealing the nation’s secrets, but all he’d been doing was explaining to Charles the need to be cautious when mixing cleaning fluids in this particular building.
Reed had given Sanford a glare, scowled at Charles, and stalked down the corridor to do…something, probably tear a strip off the third man who worked as a janitor and who Charles hadn’t met as yet.
“Go on, Charles,” Sanford said now. He touched Charles’s shoulder. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You will. Have a good day.”
Chapter 10
Charles found traveling on public transportation wasn’t too difficult, although it did take three quarters of an hour to arrive at Brookeville. For the most part, that had to do with waiting for the next bus, so he didn’t think he had anything to complain about.
Beyond going to baseball games, he’d never been to Brookeville in the two years he’d lived in the vicinity; leaving the university campus for any reason was something else Marie frowned upon, and when he was a minor, he’d had no choice in the matter. Now, however, he planned to make lemonade out of the lemons his mother had handed him and enjoy his freedom to explore the area.
When he stepped down from the bus, he gazed around in surprise. Brookeville was a larger town than Charlestown. It not only had the indoor mall that served the entire tri-city area, but a movie complex with twenty screens, a number of exotic restaurants—Japanese, Indian, and Vietnamese, and a two-story Barnes and Noble. And of course Farm and Feed, but that could wait until later.
He’d never been to a mall. Any shopping was done by Marie’s personal assistant, who had Charles’s measurements. His clothes were all to Marie’s taste, and even the books he read were about mathematics and mathematicians. Restrictions had eased somewhat once he’d moved to Princeton, since she felt he was firmly on the road to his doctorate, and she could turn her attention to which Millennium Prize Problem she intended for him to work toward. Charles took advantage of her abstraction to order the kind of books he wanted online, mostly gay romances.
This mall was…huge, with almost two hundred fifty stores and restaurants within the enclosed space. It had been open for an hour or so by the time he walked through the doors and was crowded with parents and kids doing back-to-school shopping. He had nothing planned for the rest of the afternoon, so he decided he’d explore the entire space. He started at one end of the lower level and wandered through all the side corridors. He found a shop that sold candles, another that sold scented soaps, lotions, and bath gels, and a third that offered stuffed animals. The greeting card store was already selling Christmas ornaments, and he lost himself in all of them. If his job paid enough, he’d love to come back and indulge himself. Clancy Makem should still be recuperating in December, and with a little luck, Charles would still be working for him. Perhaps they’d be able to celebrate Christmas together.
He rode the escalator to the second level and walked down a short corridor, where he found a little shop that sold sports memorabilia. He would have passed it by, but a peek in the window revealed a small cream-colored bear wearing a maroon jersey with Scorpions across the front and the number twenty-three. Unable to resist—maroon and cream were the Scorpions’ colors and twenty-three was Clancy Makem’s number—he went in, picked it up, and turned it over. Across the back of the jersey was the shortstop’s name and number. A glance at the price had him hesitating.
“Hey, buddy.” A young sales associate approached him. “Can I help you with something?”
Charles noted the name on the associate’s name tag. “Yes, please, Hayden.” He held up the bear.
“Oh, yeah, the IDC bear. We don’t usually carry items like this, but this is highly collectible—it’s a limited edition, which is why it’s a little more costly than the regular bears this company puts out. And since the Scorpions retired Clancy Makem’s number, this bear’s value is going to skyrocket before too long.”
Its future value didn’t matter to Charles. He wanted it so badly…He ran his palm over the bear’s soft fur and did some fast calculations. He’d have to find ways to economize, but…
“Y’know what? I’ll buy it.” Skipping a meal or two or three wouldn’t kill him. He followed Hayden to the register in the center of the store and paid for it.
“Don’t remove any of the tags,” Hayden advised as he handed Charles his change. “If you do, you’ll decrease its value.” He bent down and seemed to be searching for something. Charles watched with interest while he put away his change. When Hayden straightened, he held a cloth bag with the company’s logo embroidered across the front. “Don’t have many of these in stock.” He put the IDC bear into it, along with the receipt. “Thank you for shopping with us.”
“Thank you for being so helpful.” Charles picked up the bag. “Have a good day.”
“You, too.”
He walked out of the store and strolled past more of the stores located on the second level until he came to one that offered electronic games, and only the need to economize kept him from going wild and buying all the latest game systems—Nintendo Switch, Sony PlayStation, Xbox, and the games—Halo, Call of Duty, Fortnite…He felt a twinge of regret when it came to the games that involved mathematics, but he steadfastly refused to glance at a single one.
Reluctantly, he left, aware breakfast had been some time ago and that he was starving, so he went looking for the food court. By this time most of the lunch crowd had finished eating, so when he came across a Burger King kiosk, the line was minimal, giving him time to study the menu, not that it was really necessary. He ordered what he usually ordered—a Whopper, fries, and a Coke, and found a table where he could people-watch while he ate.
What an absolutely fantastic place, what an amazing experience, and what a wonderful day. He couldn’t help resenting his mother for not permitting him to enjoy this experience when he was younger.
* * * *
Knowing he still had a number of purchases to make, Charles left the mall without buying anything other than the bear and lunch. He didn’t have any trouble finding Farm and Feed; however, he did discover he enjoyed shopping there, perhaps too much. He glanced down at the numerous plastic bags he clutched in both hands and smiled ruefully. The chancellor’s suggestions hadn’t been very helpful, but Sanford’s advice had been. Charles had bought twill trousers in navy and tan, blue chambray shirts, a package of gray socks—was that the usual price for a multi-pack of ten?—a pair of slip-resistant work shoes recommended by Sanford, and something he’d always wanted but Marie had forbidden him from having—jeans and running shoes.
He’d stared in dismay at the total the cashier had rung up and took the bills from his wallet. Thank God he’d already paid for his room, but at this point, he had barely enough to pay for all the clothing. What was he going to do about food for the next couple of meals? Of course the Charlestown Inn offered breakfast, but it was a long time until then.
“Oh, hold on a second,” the cashier said. “It’s Thursday.”
“Well…yes?” he agreed hesitantly.
The cashier hit some keys on her register and gave him a lesser figure.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
She grinned at him. “Thursday is twenty percent off day.”
Stores did that? “Th-thank you.” He gave her four hundred dollars.
“You’re welcome.” She counted the bills, keyed the figure into her register, and then handed him his change—which fortunately would be enough to tip the housekeeping staff well.
As for dinner…well, it really did look as if that might be out of the question. Unless…there was a vending machine in an alcove on the fourth floor. It contained snacks and beverages that were cheap enough, and he did have a pocketful of change. He’d buy a bottle of orange juice and a granola bar and have that for his dinner. As for tomorrow’s lunch…he’d worry about that tomorrow. He helped the cashier bag his purchases and thanked her again.
“Have a great day.”
“You, too. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Come back and see us.” She gave him a warm smile.
“I will.” He headed for the exit just as a man a few inches taller was entering. Charles stepped to the right as the man stepped to the left. “Sorry.” He stepped to his left as the man stepped to his right. “Sorry,” he said again.
“Not a problem.” The man chuckled, and then his eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”
“No, but I know you. You’re Dan Daniels. You play third base for the Scorpions.”
“I do. Wait a second, now I recognize you.”
“You do?”
“You’re Chuck.”
“Excuse me?”
“You used to sit along the third base line, and you’d yell at the umpires, stuff like they should shake their heads because their eyeballs were stuck together.”
Charles had to laugh. “I’ve done that, but my name isn’t Chuck.” Although come to think of it, that was a nickname for Charles.
“We used to call you that.”
“Who did?”
“We did, me, Den, Leo, Clancy, the entire infield. Even Dave knew about you.”
The Five Horsemen? Charles couldn’t catch his breath for a moment. “But why?”
“Why Chuck? Because you heckled the umpires so much we were sure you were gonna get chucked out on your ass.”
Charles had to laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t have yelled at them if they’d called the plays right. I swear some of them had to be blind.”
Dan chuckled. “I have to agree with you.”
“How are you doing, Mr. Daniels?”
“Call me Dan. I’m okay. I’m a little foggy at times, but I’m mostly okay.”
“I was at the game when you got hit.” It had been the last game of the playoffs, and it put the Scorpions out of the running for a chance at the pennant. Not that the fans cared when the third baseman’s life could have been on the line.
“Were you? Damn, I still can’t remember some things.”
“That was so scary.”
“Tell me about it. Say, you know we’re playing Philly next week. I can get you tickets.”
“I’d love it, but I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve got work.” And if Clancy was having his surgery on Monday, he’d never be up to going to a game later in the same week. “Thank you anyway.”
