Chapter Six

 

As the elevator came to rest on the ground floor, the doors opened slowly and Gary Lee sauntered into the lobby. He approached Dirk from behind, and noticed he was leaning over the reception desk in an effort to improve his viewing angle of Charlene’s ample cleavage. Gary Lee startled him by aggressively slapping his hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry you had to put up with this ol’ boy for so long,” he simultaneously announced as his grasped the muscles of Dirk’s neck. “I guess by now you figured out he’s as boring as he is ugly.”

“I’d rather spend an hour with him than five minutes with you,” she purred, never taking her gaze from Dirk.

“Being an excellent judge of character is obviously a prerequisite for your job, young lady,” Dirk said.

Charlene’s eyebrows raised and she exclaimed, “Say, ain’t you that TV news fella?”

Before Dirk could acknowledge the fact, Gary Lee interrupted. “Honey, there ain’t a TV station in this country would let this reprobate drive the news van, much less stand in front of a camera.”

Gary Lee used the physical advantage of his vise-like grip on Dirk’s neck to turn him away from the desk and direct him toward the elevator. Like two boys engaged in a mock wrestling match, Dirk half-punched Gary Lee in the stomach as the approached the elevator door. As they waited for it to open, Dirk turned for one more lustful glance at Charlene.

“That would hurt an old man like you,” Gary Lee chided as he observed Dirk’s over-the-shoulder glance. The door to the elevator opened, and they stepped in.

As the doors closed, Dirk announced, “Man, that’s what I call a sport model.”

They turned to each other with smirks on their faces and simultaneously stated, “They’s fun to drive, but the maintenance will kill you!”

“The wisdom of coach Kincaid will never die,” Dirk said, acknowledging another of the coach’s witticisms.

“Amen,” Gary Lee agreed as he raised his hand over his head to high five Dirk.

“Speakin’ of sport models,” Dirk retorted, “I noticed you came alone to the reunion. What happened to you and Teresa Bramlett?” She had been Gary Lee’s high school sweetheart.

“Aw, that didn’t work out,” Gary Lee answered sullenly as the elevator doors opened.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Dirk, do you know the difference between making love to your wife, your girlfriend, and a whore?” Gary Lee asked as they exited the elevator and began to walk down the hall.

“I don’t believe I do.”

“A whore will tell you what a sexual tiger you are. Your girlfriend will tell you what a warm, loving, sharing, experience it was. And your wife will say, ‘Beige, I think we ought to paint the ceiling beige.’ Well, it wasn’t but a few years into our marriage that Teresa was a lot more interested in decoratin’ than fornicatin’. She started to put on weight, too,” he lamented.

“I can’t imagine that.” Dirk responded. “No offense, but I do recall she had a bodacious set of tah-tahs.”

“I tell you what,” Gary Lee proclaimed, “after sixteen years of marriage and forty more pounds, those tah-tahs looked like two old socks full of sand. She’d walk across the room in a nighty and it looked like two dogs were wrestling under a blanket.”

“So, how long have you been divorced?” They approached the door that led to the entrance to the TRACON room.

“It’s been three years now,” Gary Lee confided.

“Any warm, loving, sharing relationships on the horizon?” Dirk quipped in reference to Gary Lee’s joke.

“Well, I’ve been working on ol’ Charlene downstairs, but I think she fails to comprehend to the true depth of my character.”

Gary Lee opened the door, and they entered the dimly lit room. Its dark somber atmosphere reminded Dirk of the serious nature of his visit. Dirk’s sixth sense as a reporter told him he was about to gather some valuable bargaining chips for his story.

As they transitioned from the well-lit hallway into the darkness, so too did their conversation suddenly take on a dark and somber tone.

“What effect did the crash of Consolidated flight 243 have on the operations in this room?” Dirk inquired.

“Well, considering the fact that I vectored that flight to the final approach course, I can tell you that I’ve been having some serious thoughts about that situation.”

“Sumbitch,” Dirk thought. “I’m talking to one of the last people to talk to that pilot. Cha ching! Cha ching!” His mind raced to the potential for an exclusive story this information might provide. “It’s kind of dark in here,” Dirk observed as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room.

“Welcome to the exciting world of air traffic control,” Gary Lee replied facetiously.