Thursday, October 4, 2012

Tara: Sixth part. Gerry sets wheels into motion.




             Tara Part: Act one, Scene Six. Gerry sets wheels into motion.
                                       By Mark William Darus

 

Continued from Part Five.

“You are so very wrong, Asshole! “

 

“Then who is she may I ask?”



“She, we are many! You’ve such a tiny mind….”

 

“my education has taught me-”

“Nothing! It has taught you nothing with those like us.”

 

“Gerry, “ the gentle voice of Tara tells him, “go, get yourself a coffee.”

And Gerry will do this, but not after mentally setting his knives into Grmily’s back.



                                                      Part Six.

        Leaving Tara behind as her door firmly closes behind him, Dr Gerry casually heads toward the cafeteria. He does need a good decaf to center him.

         ‘How do I derail this bastard?’ he wonders. ‘I’ve got the get some dirt on this asshole and then offer my services to treat her. I’ll even offer a pay-cut up, but I know they wouldn’t do such a thing. Yeah, that would give credence to my conviction to help her and gain respect for my conviction.’

        Smiling at staff as he passes them in the brightly lit hallway as words of urgency pass from overhead speakers, his mind still churning about his current task. ‘How does one derail another’s career that spans many decades?’

        Stopping momentarily at a crossroad, looking right and left with an amused face plainly displayed, forgetting where the cafeteria is, not knowing which way to tread.

        Thinking of a close friend of his that can find the worst in anyone’s background, Gerry pulls his cell phone from his right pocket. A confident smirk filling his features, he dials his friend Jeff.

       “What up, brother?” Jeff answers happily.

        “Hey, I’ve got a job for you.” Gerry says to Jeff.

        “This a paying gig, bro?” Jeff asks, seeking coin, forgetting the past.

        “C’mon, man. You still owe me after the last tip I gave ya.”

        Sighing loudly, Jeff changes his tone, “Sorry, Gerry. Didn’t mean to hit your wallet so harsh. It’s been a slow month. What you got for me?”

        “I’ve want you to give me leverage on a Dr Grimly. A senior Psychiatrist here.” Gerry voice is energetic and somewhat vengeful.

        Hearing a multitude of sirens from the front of his century old home, Jeff asks Gerry to hold. Grabbing his Pentax camera, Jeff goes to his front porch forgetting he is only clad in his grey Hanes briefs. A rather good freelance photographer and an exceptional PI, he holds a single minded obsession to get things in the now.

       A stabbing occurred a few houses from his.

       As he ran to catch pics of fresh flowing blood and perhaps the gasping expressions of those about to die, several people cited his lack of clothing.

       “Fuck you! I’m still legal!” Snapping shots in real light long before camera crews hit the scene, he switches to video mode to capture the Police on the scene.

       Stepping up to victim, crossing between black and white stills and color video, he only leaves once the local TV stations arrive. Giving them his card, knowing they’d call him for split second footage, to him a paying thing, he goes back to Gerry.

        “Sorry, man, some asshole just got snuffed a few dwellings down. Had to take it, you know?”

         Laughing, Gerry said, “Of course, dude. That’s your bread and butter. Well, that and catching some guy with a mistress in a Motel 6. You’re such a fuckin’ parasite!”

       “You know it! Everybody lies and I get hired to nail their asses. Sure, the fire and death shots are random, but the infidelity shit is my realm. Gotta love women with rich hubby’s that get paranoid and hold great prenupt’s.” Jeff, chuckling as he uploads the stabbing pics to his Hewlett-Packard.

        “You are sick man,” Gerry states, fully laughing, speaking on, “You’ve to get me some shit on this guy.”

       “hmm, sounds like this is a personal vendetta to you, Gerry,”

       Taking a second to reflect, standing at the hallways crossroad, looking around him as a gorgeous red haired nurse says hello to him, he snaps back. “No, well, yes, shit Jeff, I don’t know…”

        A near evil smile nails Jeffs face as he talks to his friend, “Brother, does your stomach ache?”

      “Yeah, how’d you know?”

       “Don’t lie to me, shithead, I hear your voice. You fighting for breath?” Jeff knows he’s got him.

       “Okay, so! What does that have to do with it?” Gerry voice is reaching out, nearly gasping for simple air to finish a sentence.

        The very sick humor Gerry likes about Jeff, Jeff begins to sing, “W-huts, love got to do with it?” Jeff does many impersonations well, Tina Turner is not one of them.

        “I’m not in love! What would make you think that, Jeff?” Gerry’s mind going into overdrive. ‘how well does he know me?’

           "I’m not in l-ove, no no, just becauuuuuuuuuse,” singing 10 cc’s famous tune Jeff cuts chopped off.

         “CAN YOU PLEASE JUST DO WHAT THE FUCK I ASKED, JEFF?!?!” he yelled, losing it.

     “Gerry, I got your back. Didn’t mean to bust your chops. Okay, yeah I did, but it’s all in good fun, right?”

        No longer yelling and bringing unwanted attention directed his way in the hospitals corridor, “Thanks, keep in touch, okay?”

        “Peace, man. Laters,” Jeff said hitting his computer like a lunatic. He began to send emails to his vast network of ‘closet’ diggers and give them the info his friend gave him. Sometimes the footwork of investigation can get heavy, but the internet makes it less physical as one wheel greases another.

       Taking a deep inhale, planting his cell phone to pocket, a hand touches his left shoulder, causing him to jump a bit.

        “Sorry, Dr. Didn’t mean to startle you,” Anya says. She is glad to catch him though. She was taken by him and his dealings with Tara this night.

       Gerry turns and sees her standing behind him. Quickly reaching acceptable composure from often being blindsided by patients, he calmly says, “hello.”

       “Would you mind if we ate together? Forgive me, would you like to join me for breakfast? This shift was very, uh, how to say this, uh-”



           “Different?” he finished her words.

         “Yeah, right. Am I being unprofessional on this, Dr? Anya’s tone growing more weak and fragile the more she spoke.

        Placing his right hand on her nurses green shoulder, Gerry asked, “When does your shift end?”

       “Ten minutes ago.”

       “Mine officially ended 1 hour ago. Breakfast? No, not really.”

        Anya, disappointment showing in deep blue eyes, thoughts of failing once again to connect, “okay, so sorry, Dr.”

       “How’d you like to go for a stiff drink?” Gerry, wanting to feel once again the arms of a woman around him, asked her.

        Flabbergasted and liking it, “That’d be great, Dr. I don’t live far from here. I could make us breakfast and serve up peniscolada’s,”

       Shaking his head, lips curled upward, eyes never leaving hers, “If that’s not a Freudian slip, Nurse.”

      “I’m Anya.”

       “Just call me Gerry.”

        Departing the crossroad, meeting again in the staff parking lot, he followed her.

         Standing on the oak deck of her home, eating eggs, bacon and dirty potatoes, they shared their dreams and desires as they downed many alcoholic beverages.

        After giving a hearty belch and apologizing for it, Gerry reached for Anya as she reached for him.

        Brilliant skies rose to greet them as they held each other. Gerry’s head gently placed on Anya’s shoulder as she to his. Sensations creating exquisite feelings as their ears lightly touched. As darkness goes from black to blues to purples, orange and yellow as the eastern sun takes hold of another day.

        Slowly, cautiously, while their eyes never leaving one another, they undressed each other. Never looking at each others body below the neck, she took his hand into hers and he followed her. She passionately took him to her warn place where they shared the peace after an odd shift.

        “You have no idea how good this feels, Anya,” Gerry moaned as she hands grasped his shoulders.

         His hands caressed her smooth thighs, though not as gently as he wanted to.

        “Likewise, Gerry.” she sighed, taking in every moment in this place and time.

          Holding each other happily, sharing a slender shred of time, joining as one.

          “I so love you dick, Gerry,” she spoke affectionately.

        “Another Freudian slip, Anya?” he asked.

          Her face blushing in bright red creating pinkish hues with the rising sunlight.

         “I am so glad to have you with me in my hot-tub, Gerry, is what I meant to say. On my deck, that is..."

           Both laughing, mildly buzzed, leaving the hot tub, they took a walk into her backyard where they made love as neighbors dogs barked and the morning rush filled the air with car horns and the yelling of idiots.
                                              
 

Mark William Darus 09042012


Authors Note: I loved writing this. Going into the private lives of those that wish to support and aide Tara, I felt the words flow so easily.