Message-ID: <6cd3114c.358ac531@aol.com>
Date: Fri, 19 Jun 1998 16:08:15 EDT
From: Maryilee@aol.com
Subject: "And Then There Were Two" Part 4

Chapter 4


"...and traffic on the Kennedy is backed up from...". Gary slapped the
snooze alarm, and rolled over covering his head with the comforter,
hoping to catch a few more winks.

"Mrreeoow"

"Damn cat," Gary muttered as he wearily stumbled to his feet.  "Can't
ever let me sleep," he ranted.  "Just one day, that's not asking too
much."

Gary retrieved the paper, tossed it on the coffee table, and shuffled
to the bathroom.  He stood under the hot spray of the shower, trying to
wake up.  He was still exhausted from the night before, and wondered
what time Chuck would come in today.  He had seemed pretty beat too.
Gary prayed for a quiet news day.

Skimming the paper as he put his socks and shoes on, Gary was relieved
to see that there was nothing that needed immediate attention.  At
least he would get a decent breakfast for once.

Gary pushed through the doors to the kitchen, stopping in surprise when
he saw Chuck already there, sipping a cup of coffee and reading a
newspaper at the end of the island in the kitchen.

Chuck smiled, and looked up from his paper.  "Morning, Gary.  He nodded
towards a steaming pot of coffee; "I made some coffee if you're
interested."

"Uh, yeah, I think I could use some.  Thanks." Gary helped himself to a
cup, wondering what Chuck was up to.  He didn't normally act so cheery
in the morning. Especially not on mornings after Gary had dragged him
around till late.  Gary narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"No! You can't have the finance pages." Gary blurted out.  That had to
be it. Chuck was always trying to wheedle the stock reports from him.
Sometimes he felt like a broken record, repeating the same phrase over
and over.

To Chuck's credit, he looked genuinely surprised at Gary's statement,
and slightly puzzled.  Gary felt instantly contrite.

"Sorry Chuck, I shouldn't have said that.  I want to thank you for
helping out last night.  I really appreciate it."  Gary pulled a stool
alongside the counter.

"Uh, no problem." Chuck answered, still looking confused.

Gary opened the paper, sorting through the stories, deciding which ones
needed his attention.  He dismissed a three-car accident at Clark and
Addison.  There were only minor injuries involved.

A headline about a lost toddler at a shopping mall caught Gary's
attention, but reading the accompanying article made him smile as he
realized that he wasn't needed there either.  It seems the toddler was
found safely two hours after being reported missing.  She was fast
asleep in the middle of a circular rack of clothing.

He turned to the Metro section, and felt his stomach clench as a small
headline on the bottom of the page leapt out at him.

"Long Time Community Activist Beaten"

"No, not again." Gary breathed, as he read the article.  The article
stated that Antonio Herrara was viciously beaten near his home around
three P.M.  Children on their way home from school found had the
injured man in an alley.  The victim was listed in critical condition
at Cook County Hospital.  At press time, police had no suspects in the
crime.

It was the same man that Gary had saved the day before from being
killed by the two teens. Gary knew it wasn't a random robbery, like he
had at first suspected.  Someone wanted Herrara dead, and Gary figured
they would keep trying until they succeeded or were stopped.

Gary jumped off his stool and grabbed the phone book from a shelf.
Maybe he could call and warn Herrara.  A search in the phone book
turned up over a hundred Herraras.  Fifteen of them had either an A.
initial, or Antonio listed as the first name.  Trying to narrow it down
further, Gary checked a map, and found that six of them lived in the
vicinity of where the beating took place.  He sighed in frustration.
It could never be easy, could it?

"What's wrong, Gary?"

Gary looked up from the phone book.  He had forgotten about Chuck.

"Oh, just the usual.  The paper is trying to make me crazy."  Gary
answered bitterly.

Chuck seemed taken aback at the vehemence with which Gary had spoken.
"What do you mean, the paper is making you crazy?"

Gary scowled, "I think the true purpose of the paper is to drive me
nuts."

Chuck shook his head, a confused look on his face.  "If it drives you
crazy, just don't read it."

"Yeah, like I can just ignore it."  Gary said sarcastically.  "I wish I
could, Chuck.  You don't know how often I wish I could just pretend it
didn't exist."  His voice grew quieter-almost wistful.  "You know what
I wish, Chuck?"  Not waiting for a reply, he continued.  "I wish that
the paper went to someone else."

He grew thoughtful then, thinking back on the things he had
accomplished, the people that he had saved, and shook his head.  "No, I
don't really wish that, I guess.  I have too many people counting on
me.  There must be a reason the paper comes to me, and I can't shirk my
responsibilities."  Gary glanced at Chuck, ready to apologize again for
snapping at him, but the look on Chuck's face stilled him.

Chuck was standing in front of the paper that Gary had left lying
open.  He had his own paper spread out next to it.  He was glancing
back and forth between the two newspapers, an expression of shocked
realization dawning on his face.

Gary was puzzled.  Why was Chuck comparing the papers?  He acted as
though he had never seen Gary's paper before.  Gary slowly walked over
to the counter.  He watched as Chuck checked the page numbers on his
paper, to the page numbers on Gary's paper.

"What's wrong, Chuck?"  Gary asked, concerned for his friend now.