In Search Of Dreams

Episode 15

Robert is just getting ready to leave for the day
when his phone rings. He grabs it immediately.

“Robert Carter.”

“Mr. Carter? My name is Duncan Matthews.

I got Ezra Johnson with me, here, too.”

“Mr. Matthews, thank you for calling!”

“Thank you for taking Lori’s case, Mr.
Carter,” Duncan says. He sounds nervous,
uneasy.

“Please, Rob. I ain’t old enough to be called
‘Mr.’ anything yet,” he says, chuckling. “Was
Percy Andersen able to tell you anything?”

“Not really, Mr. Rob. He told me that he had
copies. He give me your number. Can’t really
talk freely at work. Folks might be listenin’.”

“I would like to meet with both of you if you’re
willin’ to help out.”

“I wouldn’t be callin’ you if I wasn’t willin’.”

“Good. I can meet any time. I promised
Loretta that I wouldn’t take you gentlemen
away from your jobs unless I absolutely had to.

Weekend, evening, whatever works for you.”

“We’s free now, if you’s free.”

Rob looks at his watch. “I am. You know
Gareth’s?”

“O’ course we do.”

“Can you meet me there in fifteen minutes? I
reckon we can talk pretty freely there.”

“You… you don’t want us to come to yo’ office?”

“I’m hungry,” Rob says by way of explanation.

“Gareth does do a mean barbecue,” Duncan
says.

“Well, if you boys care to join me for supper, I’ll
buy.”

“Oh, now, I couldn’t let you…”

“Business expense,” Rob interrupts. “Don’t
make me eat alone, now.”

“Fifteen minutes, then,” Duncan says.

Thirteen minutes later, Rob heads inside
Gareth’s to find that Duncan and Ezra are
already there. At least he presumes the two
black men seated at a table glancing anxiously
at the door are Duncan and Ezra.

“Gareth,” Rob nods at the barman, owner,
and cook.

“Robert,” Gareth nods back. Duncan looks up,
hearing Gareth address the well-dressed blonde
man who just strode into the tavern. Gareth
nods at Duncan. This is your man.

Duncan stands then, catching Robert’s eye. “Mr.
Robert?” Duncan appears to be slightly older
than Shawn, but Rob guesses him to be about
Shawn’s age. He is thin with balding gray hair.

“Just Robert, no mister,” Rob smiles, extending
his hand. Duncan tentatively takes it, and Rob
shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you in person,
Mr. Matthews.”

“If you’s just Robert, I’s just Duncan,” he says,
relaxing slightly. “This here’s Ezra,” he
introduces the other man.

Ezra takes Rob’s outstretched hand and
stands as well. He looks like a skittish bird,
nervous, haunted by something. He is older than
Rob, but younger than Duncan, perhaps 40.

“Relax, Ezra, everything will be fine,” Rob says
in what he has now come to think of as his
“Superman voice” thanks to Loretta and
places his left hand over Ezra’s hand,
encapsulating the man’s thin dry hand between
both of his in a reassuring manner.

“Thank you, Mr… I mean Robert,” Ezra says.

“Please,” Robert motions for the two men to sit.

He pulls his own chair out when some soft
piano music starts to play. He looks up. “Excuse
me just one moment, gents.”

Duncan and Ezra watch as Robert strides up to
the piano, takes a very worn-looking dollar bill
from his wallet, and places it in the glass on the
top of the piano. Marcus mutters something they
cannot hear, and then Robert laughs loudly,
throwing his head back. He sq££zes Marcus’s
shoulder in a friendly way and saunters back to
the table.

“Sorry, Marcus and I have been passing that
dollar back and forth for about ten months now,”
Rob says, chuckling as he sits.

“You know Marcus?” Ezra asks.

“He’s my best friend,” Rob nods. “Thanks,
man,” he says to Gareth, who has just brought
them three bottles of Dr. Pepper. “I tried tipping
him when he first started playin’ here, you know,
to encourage others to drop a coin or two in. He
told me that a whole dollar was showin’ off and
tried givin’ it back. I refused. Found it in my
briefcase the next day when I got home from
work. Now we keep passin’ that bill back and
forth. I’ve had it for three weeks now, bidin’ my
time.”

“You white boys is strange,” Duncan shakes his
head.

“I know,” Robert answers, chuckling again, much
to their surprise. “But that’s what keeps life
interestin’, right? Everyone’s a little strange.”

“You boys want some grub?” Gareth calls over.

“Darn right,” Rob calls back. “Set us up, my
good man. Three of your finest… whatever you
got goin’ back there,” he waves. Then he turns
to Duncan and Ezra. “So. Loretta gave me
your names, so I presume there was a reason
she chose you two special.”

Duncan and Ezra look at each other. “What did
the boss tell you?”

“Percy? Only that he has paperwork that proves
that your equipment was faulty and that he was
willing to take the stand and help us out.”

Rob leaves out the nephew-of-the-big-boss
detail, remembering that Percy didn’t want that
out. It may prove a key point later, though.

“I’ve worked in that warehouse for ten year,”
Duncan says. “Longer’n most. Only one there
long as me was Tom.”

“So you can vouch for Tom’s character, then?”

“Vouch?”

“Sorry. You are willing and able to say that Tom
was a good man, that he wasn’t doin’ anything
that he shouldn’t have been doin’ that would
have put him in danger?”

“Yeah, I can vouch that,” Duncan nods. “You
seem to know Lori pretty well,” he says,
looking sideways at Rob a moment.

“I met her by accident back in August and have
met with her officially on this case once. But I
would say I have a pretty good idea about what
kind of person she is, yes,” Rob says
carefully.

“By accident?”

“I, um, bumped into her and knocked her down.

Accidentally. ‘Cause I wasn’t watchin’ where I
was goin’.”

“Fair enough,” Duncan says. “What I’m gettin’ at
is Lori is just like her Daddy. Never steppin’ a
toe out o’ line. Not like that fool brother o’ hers
at all. At work, Tom was a… what do you white
people say? He was a model employee.”

Rob takes a small notebook out of his inside
breast pocket and starts making notes. “What’s
your job at the warehouse, Duncan?”

“I run the loading dock. Most o’ those repair
requests were submitted by me. Well, Boss
submitted them, but I tell him what needs
fixin’.”

“Very good,” Rob nods, making notes. Gareth
arrives with three plates containing pulled pork
sandwiches and coleslaw. “Thanks, Gareth,” he
says, nodding.

“Ezra, how about you?”

“I don’t do nothin’ special,” he says. “But I was
the one drivin’ that cursed fork truck. The one
that killed Tom.”

“Oh, Lord, I am sorry,” Rob sets his pen down.

Suddenly Ezra’s strange demeanor comes into
focus. “I’m sure Tom knows…”

“I know,” Ezra says. “Lori don’t hold me to
blame. No one holds me to blame ‘cept me.”

“Seems to me that Mr. Alined is to blame,”
Rob says decisively. “You are as much a
victim as Tom and Loretta and Elliot, Ezra.”

“At least I has my life,” Ezra says, the guilt plain
in his voice.

“Well, yes, but what kind o’ life are you livin’
right now? You’re beatin’ yourself up every
minute. I can see it on you, plain as the shirt on
your back.”

“Yessuh,” he says, nodding in agreement, his
eyes downcast.

“Ezra, I don’t want to make this any harder for
you. If you can tell me what you can, it’ll help
Loretta. It’ll help all o’ y’all.”

“All?”

“Well, yes. Lori isn’t looking for money here.
She wants things to be made safe for you, her
father’s friends and coworkers. She wants Mr.
Alined to know that his negligence… um, lack of
action will not go unnoticed. She wants
something good to come out of her father’s
death.”

“She tole you this?” Ezra says, looking up again.
“She did.”

“Does sound like Lori,” Duncan says, smiling a
little.

“The truck had bad brakes,” Ezra suddenly starts
talking, poking his coleslaw with his fork. “The
steering was goin’. The tires was bald. It was
startin’ to make strange noises. The hydraulics
needed tendin’ to. We got a couple trucks, but
we needs ’em both workin’ else we get yelled at
for not keepin’ up. I lost the toss that day…”

“Lost the toss?”

“We was flippin’ coins to see who had to drive
the bad truck,” he explains. Rob makes a note
of this. “I lost that day. Mort called tails. I
always call tails. So I’s drivin’ this fool truck,
strugglin’. I turn the wheel left, it go straight. I
hit the brakes, it don’t stop. ‘Fore I knew it, I
was headin’ down the wrong aisle with the forks
stuck half up. Tom was trapped. I…”

“You don’t have to go on, Ezra. I saw the
hospital report; I know what happened,” Rob
says softly. He recalls some of the details and
suddenly the pulled pork dripping with dark red
barbecue sauce doesn’t look so appetizing. He
takes a bite of slaw instead.