Page 115 of Hell Bent
I looked at Owen, and he shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I mostly just drive my truck when I have to go somewhere. Thor here is the expert. Got one of those memberships, or fractional shares, or whatever, and he uses it, but hey, Orbison’s got a whole corporate jet. I don’t see it, personally, because you can buy a whole lot of fencing or a pretty good bull for the price of one of those flights, but then, a bull won’t get you to Vancouver in a hurry.”
I said, “That’s fine, then. I appreciate it. Send me your bank info, Harlan, and the invoice, and I’ll wire the funds tomorrow.”
Harlan sighed. “Now, see, you’re wrecking my postgame buzz, not to mention depriving me of my karma points. Look. I had a real bad family thing happen myself a few years back. Jennifer and I weren’t even together yet, and I’m not sure she liked me much, but she ditched work on the spot—which was something, because that woman wrote the book on ‘conscientious’—used her assistant powers, bossed me around like crazy, got me to North Dakota, and figured out what to do once we got there. Handled everything, was there for me all the way. Then I hadanotherbad time, and not only did Jennifer handle everything again, Owen drove through the night to get there. Hopped in his truck right then and there and drove six hundred miles just to help me out for a couple of days. No way I can pay that back, so I’ve got to pay it forward instead.” I must have still looked stubborn, because he said, “Tell him this is what friends do, Owen.”
“It’s what friends do,” Owen said. “Every time.”
“Friends spend tens of thousands of dollars,” I said. “Yeah, right.”
“Hey,” Harlan said. “I can’t go with you, and you wouldn’t want me. I can do this, and I want to. Shut up and let me do it. I can’t stand it when people won’t even let me feel better. What’s up with that?”
I said, “I can’t—” and Harlan said, “OK, I’ve got one for you. Bug—my sister Annabelle—wants to play soccer. She’s at Stanford on a crew scholarship, and she’s a damn fine volleyball and softball player, too, but she’s just started with the soccer this year, and she wants to at least do the intramural thing. Soccer’s big at Stanford, and I don’t know a thing about it. How about you give her some coaching this summer, if you want to keep the karma points coming? You’re a deliberate guy. Systematic. Kinda like Owen, and he’s coach material all the way.”
“And you couldn’t do that yourself,” I said. “Give me a break. Although of course I’ll help. I could bring Ben along, too. That could work.”
“Now, see?” Harlan said. “Coach material. And no, I can’tdo it. I’m not the one who played ten years as a pro. It’s friends, man. It’s just friends.”
Alix
Ben had been sitting on a chair in the waiting area of the charter terminal, hunched into his jacket and bent over his phone with his headphones in, when the group started coming through the doors. He looked up and said, “Wow,” possibly a little dazed at seeing them in the flesh.
It seemed like about a hundred men, mostly joking, smiling, but I was only looking for one. When I saw him, I didn’t think, I ran, and launched myself straight into his arms. Hecaught me and held on tight, and I whispered, “I’m sorry,” as men stepped around us like we were rocks in a stream.
He said, “I know,” then stood back, still with his arms around me, searched my face, and asked, “You OK to come? I’ll get you home tomorrow, but?—”
“Of course I’m there,” I said. “Of course I am.” Then let go of him, even though I didn’t want to, because I remembered Ben.
I looked for him, and smiled despite my general state of … well, dread. Ben was standing up, and Owen Johnson had a big hand on his shoulder, while Harlan Kristiansen stood beside them and looked handsome and noble and concerned, like Captain America determined to carry out his mission. Sebastian headed over there, and we reached them in time to hear Owen say, “You hang in there, man. This is rough. Let it be rough. And lean on your uncle some, OK? That’ll help him, too. A man needs something to do at a time like this.”
Ben nodded, his face shut down, and Owen glanced around and said, “Got to go,” then grabbed Sebastian in a three-hundred-pound hug, thumped his back, and said, “Hang in there. See you Wednesday.” After that, Harlan did some back-thumping of his own with both Ben and Sebastian, then turned to me, his beautiful face somber for once, and said, “It’s good you’ll be there. I know how much it helps.”
I thought,What’s the story there?Nobody truly led a charmed life, though, however it looked from the outside. I’d lived enough by now to know that, so I just said, “Thanks. I’m going to do my best.”
He nodded and headed off with his long-limbed stride to join the tail end of the group, and Sebastian ran his hand through his hair and said, “So.” Looking too tired. “I’m just waiting for a text.”
“We’re not going on the team plane?” Ben asked.
“What?” Sebastian looked startled. “No. We’ve got a charter. Team planes don’t work like that. I got the OK to fly back on my own, and we’ve got two days off for the win, so …” He sat down beside Ben. “We’re going to get there as fast as humanly possible.”
“I shouldn’t have come.” Ben looked miserable again. “I should’ve stayed home. I could’ve flown up there by myself. I could’ve …”
“We’ll be a couple hours later, that’s all,” Sebastian said. His arms and legs sprawled, as if the elastic bands holding him together had snapped. A while later, I heard thedingof a text, and he pulled his phone from his pocket, stood up, and said, “That’s us.”
Nobody said anything while we walked to a doorway, where we were met by a driver in a black Suburban, a pretty incongruous thing to see on the tarmac, and taken through the dark and the still-swirling snow to a ghostly white shape. Out of the car, and when Sebastian went to grab his duffel, the driver said, “I’ve got it.” Which meant it was the three of us walking the few yards to the idling jet. Not some little thing, because there were eight lit-up porthole windows along the side. The thing was beautiful, like a slim, graceful white bird, and there were two people standing at the foot of the steps. A man in a peaked cap with stripes on his sleeves, and a woman in a pantsuit. The man shook hands with Sebastian and said, “I’m Captain Stevens, and I’ll be taking you to Vancouver today.”
Sebastian said, “Thanks,” and the captain headed up the steps. The woman said, “I’m Valerie, your flight attendant. Please come aboard. I understand you’re hungry, so the chef will get started on dinner right away.”
Ben started up the stairs, and Sebastian yanked him back by the jacket and said, “Let Alix go first.”
Ben blinked at him. “Huh?”
“Manners,” Sebastian said.
“Dude,” Ben said as he ascended the staircase behind me. “Seriously? It’s like, this horrible time, and I’m supposed to think about manners?”
“Manners help,” Sebastian said, once we were inside the jet. “They give you some structure.”
“Lame,” Ben muttered, but then he said, “Wow.Thisis how we’re getting there? With achef?”
