Sunday, August 17, 2008

Big Announcement!

No, the baby hasn't arrived yet.

"The Surprising Life and Death of Diggory Franklin" is moving to a new site. Here's the link: http://gavinwilliams.digitalnovelists.com


All new chapters will be posted there. In collaboration with MeiLin Miranda of "The Intimate History of the Greater Kingdom" fame, I've opened my own website, so that I can run ads and control the layout much more than I can on blogger. I kind of like Wordpress a little better, but it doesn't let me use ads at all. And, the bonus of the new site is that I can set up forums and have all my stories in one place. Hope you all enjoy the new digs. :)

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Cops on our Tail

I composed myself and walked casually into triage.

“Everything okay?” Calla asked.

“Yeah, that was just Matt, letting me know that he survived, like all cockroaches.”

“He’s your friend?” Bianca asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, a) you called him a cockroach, and b) he hit on me after I saw him hitting on a waitress at the gallery last week. He’s kind of slimy.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so. He wants me to put in a good word, and that saves me the trouble.” I sat down.

“Ewwwwwww,” Bianca scrunched up her nose. “Matt’s so dirty. Even his cousin Sheila thinks so.”

“She’s a snob,” I said.

“You don’t have a high opinion of people, do you?” Bianca asked.

“Not when I’m tired. What’s the point of lying to you? Sheila only let you and your classmates use her gallery to score points with her clients, and look all humanitarian. It was self-serving. Matt hits on any girl that walks by. He might be a loyal friend, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a pig. If I pretend with you, sooner or later you’ll find out and then you won’t let me talk to Calla.”

“Let you?” Calla bristled. “Bianca is not my mother.”

“Then maybe you had better take that up with her, she thinks she can decide whether we’re friends or not,” I said, grinning.

“That’s not what I said,” Bianca sputtered. “I said I’d kill you if you hurt her.”

“So you say,” I shrugged. “Still sounds like you’re making decisions on her behalf. Maybe you should let her speak for herself.”

“I think you’re trying to get a rise out of me,” Bianca stuck out her tongue.

“I think you’re both being silly,” Calla declared. “Bianca just wants to be a good friend, and Diggory, that won’t change the fact that I’m going out with you tomorrow night. Now, is that settled?”

I shrugged and Bianca nodded. “Good,” Calla said. “Now, what I want to know, is what the two of you were doing together this afternoon, that caused you to go to Diggory’s work.”

I blinked. I had forgotten all about that.

“Diggory wanted to talk to you. You weren’t home,” Bianca started. “He said something funny…”

“Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal,” I interrupted. “I was just trying to prove to Bianca that I had your best interests in mind.”

Calla turned to her friend, “But why would you need to go to his office for that?”

I screamed at Bianca telepathically, and tried to mouth the words “Not now!” to her urgently, widening my eyes. I didn’t need Bianca discussing my theory that Calla was crazy. For one thing, I didn’t want to insult the girl, and for another, I didn’t want her thinking that I was nuts.

For once, telepathy might have worked. Bianca raised her eyebrow and then spoke to Calla.

“Oh, I just thought it would be better for us to get to know each other off my home turf. I mean, you were coming home soon, after all. I didn’t have a lot of time to interrogate the man. Away from the house, I could find out more and then we could come back.”

I was impressed with Bianca’s ability to improvise. I smiled and mouthed “Thank you.”

“And the building blew up before she could get much out of me,” I said. “So that’s how we got here.”

“I see,” Calla said. “Weird day.”

“Very weird.” I nodded.

A pair of police officers entered the ER through the outer doors. They glanced around and one of them pointed in our direction.

“That’s him,” one said.

The pair came over. I had a grim feeling that my day was about to get weirder.

“Diggory Franklin?” One asked. I nodded. “Could you come with us, sir? We need you to come down to the precinct to answer some questions.”

Friday, August 15, 2008

Chapter Thirty-Six: Alive on Arrival

We were still waiting in triage when Calla came into the ER. I was getting a water bottle from a vending machine, so she saw Bianca first. She rushed over to give her roomie a hug.

“Are you okay? What the hell happened?” Calla said.

Simultaneously, Bianca cringed in pain as her friend shifted her sore collarbone, “Ouch!”

“I’m so sorry! Oh no!”

“It’s her clavicle. I think I broke it,” I offered quietly from the side.

“Diggory!” Calla said, turning to me. “No, Bianca told me you saved her life. Thank you!”

“Well, aside from the fact she wouldn’t have needed saving if I hadn’t dragged her along with me, you’re welcome.”

“Stop saying that,” Bianca slapped my arm with a smile. “You’re a hero.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Have you heard from anyone? What happened?” Calla asked.

I shrugged. “The cops took a statement at the scene, but we couldn’t tell them much. The building exploded near the top somewhere. They didn’t share information with us, so if they know anything more, they’re keeping it to themselves.”

“I wonder if it was terrorists,” Bianca said. “Everyone is scared of terrorists.”

“They are in the business of terrifying people,” Calla said with a smile in the corner of her mouth. “But that’s a little random. Why would they target Diggory’s work? It’s not a government building.”

“It could just be something normal, like faulty mechanics or a gas line, then,” Bianca said.

“I think we should let the experts figure it out,” I suggested. “You need to sit down and rest. They’ll probably call you in any minute.”

We all sat down. My cell phone started to ring.

“Would you ladies excuse me?” I took it out of my pocket and wandered a few feet away around the corner into the corridor adjacent to triage. “Hello?”

“Dude, are you okay?” Matt the Pimp’s familiar voice came over the phone. “I’m at a pay phone, I had to borrow some quarters. Thank God you’re alive!”

“Matt, what the hell happened? Are you okay? I haven’t seen anyone else here at the hospital.”

“I went out for lunch with that cute girl from accounting, and when I got back the building was on fire! Paper and shit all over the street. The cops wouldn’t let us get anywhere close, and I left my phone inside. I haven’t seen anyone else either. Why are you at the hospital? Did you get hurt?”

“No, I was just coming back from lunch myself. Sort of. I went to see Calla.”

“Ah,” Matt said, and I knew he was grinning, “For lunch. I see!”

“No, you don’t. She wasn’t home. I spoke with her roommate, Bianca, and she came with me to our building. Just as we arrived, it exploded. I pushed her back into our cab and jumped on top to protect her, like an ass. We think I broke her collarbone. She’s pretty sore.”

“Way to go, champ! You’re a regular Clark Kent!”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” I shrugged, tired of hearing it.

“Hey, she’s hot. Put in a good word for me, will you?”

“I’ll call you when we’re done here. Good-bye, Matt.” I hung up.

I turned to go back to triage. From the corner I could hear Calla and Bianca softly murmuring. On a terrible, sneaky impulse, I stopped to listen.

“So are you going to get more serious with him, or not? Because if you don’t jump his bones, I will,” Bianca said.

“Are you kidding?”

“He’s hot! Plus, he’s kind of heroic and noble. I don’t usually go for that, but you should have seen him! The building went up and he just instinctively knew what to do, jumping on top of me instead of panicking. I totally froze! He’s tough: I straight up yelled at him, playing the over-protective roomie, and he stood up to me. You’ve never had him lying on top of you, trust me, it’s an experience worth repeating.”

“He broke your clavicle!”

“Totally worth it.”

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Chapter Thirty-Five: This is the Best Day Ever

I sat with Bianca in the emergency room while she waited for x-rays. It seemed that I may have sprained or even broken her collarbone when I tackled her into the cab earlier. I felt bad about that, and apologized at every opportunity.

“Seriously, Diggory, don’t worry about it. You probably saved my life,” she would say each time, and give me another pat on the arm.

“I know. I just feel bad.”

“You’re probably still in shock and dwelling on minute details to keep your mind off the bigger picture. I know I would,” Bianca said.

The ER was crowded with people from the business district who had been hit by shards of glass, or inhaled too much smoke. I had yet to find anyone from my office, but then, they could have been diverted to another hospital. I hoped no one was hurt. It was taking ages for them to get to Bianca, but then, her injuries probably seemed minor.

Once she realized we’d be there for longer than she’d hoped, Bianca got out her cell phone.

“I think I’d better tell Calla where we are,” she said. I nodded.

“I’m going to call my parents’ place, see if my mother knows anything. She’s probably out of her mind with worry.”

We stood outside the emergency bay, calling our respective numbers. I wondered how real the warning was about using cellular phones inside the hospital. It was damned annoying. I waited while it rang.

“Hello?” My mother’s voice answered after several rings.

“Hi, Mother. It’s me.”

“Good afternoon, Diggory darling. How are you, dear? So unexpected to hear from you. Are you coming to my party tomorrow?”

I stopped short and stared at the phone in my hand. My mother’s voice sounded slurred.

“Mother, are you okay?”

“Of course, darling. Why wouldn’t I be?” She actually giggled. My mother had been drinking in the middle of the afternoon.

“Um, okay… Have you been watching the news?”

“Well, dear, I just woke up from my afternoon nap, so I’ve been dead to the world. Why, is something the matter?”

“Maybe you had better find a news channel. There was an explosion at work, and I’m in the hospital. I’m fine!” I added hastily. “A friend just needs x-rays.”

“Oh dear! I do hope everyone is all right. Have you heard from your father?”

“I was hoping that he had called you by now. I’ll try his cell number. I’ll call you back, Mother.”

“Take care, darling.”

I hung up and shook my head. Then I called my father’s personal cell phone number, and got no answer. I told myself there could be a million reasons for that. It could be off. It could have been damaged. He could have lost it while leaving the building. He might have left it in the office or at home.

I really didn’t want to think about the alternative.

“Everything okay?” Bianca asked me.

“What? Oh, yeah, fine. My mother didn’t even realize anything was wrong, she was taking a nap.”

“I feel like I could use one. This has been an exhausting day.”

I shifted my feet and stared at them. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. You wouldn’t have been in harm’s way if you hadn’t come with me to work.”

“Diggory, stop blaming yourself. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, predicting the future hasn’t been my strong suit lately.”

“Is it anyone’s?”

“Well, I usually have a long-term plan in mind. Things have been a little disrupted this week.”

“Because of Calla?” Bianca asked with a grin.

I blushed.

That was a loaded question I didn’t really want to answer.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Chapter Thirty-Four: Crash! Bang! Boom!

I sat in awkward silence with Bianca, Calla Wiley’s artsy roommate, while our cab weaved through traffic. It only had to go a few blocks to reach my work, but it seemed like everyone was out on the streets for lunch. We hit three red lights with bumper-to-bumper traffic.

As a result, our taxicab pulled up to my building just as lunch hour was finishing. People scurried along the street to return to their places of business, while I stepped out of the cab and offered a hand to Bianca. She accepted it with a soft smile, and I wondered if we were declaring a truce. I opened my mouth to say something.

And a deafening boom erupted overhead.

Acting purely on instinct, I shoved Bianca down and forward, knocking her into the backseat. I leapt in atop her, a human shield. A split second later the cab was hit by innumerable shards of glass, tinkling off the roof and windshield like hard rain. They hit with enough force to scratch the glass windows. The vehicle rocked for a moment and then settled back down. My ears were ringing from the explosion, but that shower of glass splinters had still sounded like a downpour or machine gun fire.

Bianca was trying to say something, but it seemed muffled. I wondered if I’d lost some hearing, or if my nervous system was just trying to deal with the shock. She hit my shoulder and I realized she was telling me to get off her. I got up slowly, tilting my body so she could sit up. I moved to the other side of the seat and looked out the open door.

People were running here and there, covering their heads. Some were cowering against walls. More than a few had lacerations from the glass. Papers blew all over, some of them smouldering. Smoke cast a pall over the air. I could barely make out the sound of sirens in the distance. I looked up.

My father’s building was burning. It looked like all the windows had been blown out about three quarters of the way up the building, and dark trails of smoke were still raining soot down on the city. I thought I caught glimpses of flames, and wondered what the firefighters would do when they got here.

I looked back at Bianca, whose eyes were wide with shock. She was staring upwards at the smoky destruction. The cabbie was shouting something, but I couldn’t make it out. The ringing in my ears was too much. My whole body felt like it was trembling, and I looked at my hands. They weren’t shaking, though it felt like it. It was as if the explosion had rocked my body, and not just my ears. I wondered dreamily if this was an adrenal reaction, and imagined my pulse must be racing.

Yet everything moved in slow motion.

Bianca exited the cab, looking upwards in awe. She put a hand on my arm. I looked down at it, surprised. I couldn’t tell if she was reaching out to steady herself or offer consolation. I was too numb to need it. I wondered how long that would last.

An eternity later, though it was probably only a few minutes, cops and firefighters were on the sidewalk, directing people and assessing damage. The activity made me dizzy, so I didn’t fight the paramedic who guided me to a nearby ambulance and made me sit down. Someone draped a blanket over Bianca and me, and we sat close like children while the world rushed around us.

I regained my hearing an octave at a time, it seemed. One moment there was only ringing, and then there were the high-pitched wails of sirens. I started snatching bits of words as people screamed or cried or yelled. Voices started to cut through the din.

I sat there, bewildered, as I relearned how to hear. I turned to look at Bianca. She gripped my hand in hers, interlocking our fingers. She gave a comforting squeeze.

“Can you hear me?” I asked.

She nodded. “You’re yelling.”

“Sorry,” I tried to soften my voice. “Is that better?”

“Much,” she grinned.

We sat there in silence for a bit longer, watching the police and emergency crews as they rushed back and forth. I wondered if anyone died. I wondered what had caused the explosion. I wondered where we would be working tomorrow.

“I guess we won’t be checking your messages, huh?” Bianca said.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Note from the Author: Anticipate Technical Difficulties

Ladies and Gentlemen,

As you may or may not know, my wife is expecting our third child. Literally any day now. This is a cause for celebration, in general.

In the specific, it means that my update schedule is about to become extremely erratic. I promise you three updates a week, I will keep track. They might all end up on the same day. They will not be the usual Sunday-Wednesday-Saturday pattern.

My wife, who is hardcore, is coaching Special Olympics Soccer in a tournament this weekend and next as well, and I have to go with her in case of labour. And, labour is a possibility any day of the week at this point. Wish us luck, and I'll do my best to cram in writing between family responsibilities.

Peace,

Gavin

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Chapter Thirty-Three: She's My Best Friend

I was in deep shit.
I had come to Calla Wiley’s apartment in order to get some answers after her incomprehensible behaviour of the past week. I had found her roommate Bianca instead, and within moments she had changed from a friendly acquaintance to a pissed-off adversary. Her smiling face had transmuted into a disgusted snarl. Bianca truly believed I was crazy.

I wasn’t so sure I disagreed with her.

“Hold on, hold on…” I said quietly as she pointed at the door, demanding my departure.

“GET OUT!” She yelled.

“HOLD ON!” I shouted back. It startled her momentarily, and I filled the void with soft speech. “I understand why you might think I’m crazy. You don’t know me, and I come out of nowhere to disturb your little universe. But I saw Calla last Thursday evening, and she called me over the weekend. I still have the messages. You can come listen to them, and judge for yourself which one of us is crazy. I think she needs our help. If you’re really the protective friend you claim to be, you’ll keep an open mind and come listen. Just in case Calla needs your help.”

Bianca’s brow was furrowed, her mouth straight and grim. But her scrunched face softened a little over the course of my little speech, and her mouth opened with a small “O” of surprise. She put her hand down.

“That’s more reasonable than I would have expected from a crazy man,” she said after a moment. “But I’m not going anywhere with you alone. Just in case you’re crazy.”

Bianca smiled winningly on that last line, with a little shrug. It was a shrug that said that maybe she believed me. A little. I breathed out, not realizing until I did it that I’d been holding my breath.

“We’re alone right now,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but that was before I thought you were crazy,” Bianca said, smiling wider.

“You’re nuts,” I laughed. “So where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know, you’re the smart one who found a way out of the last impasse.” Bianca sat back down on the arm of the couch, folding her arms. “Figure it out.”

I thought about it. And then I slapped my hand to my forehead in disgust.

“It’s on my answering machine at work! There are people there. If I seem crazy, you’ll have witnesses, you can just hand me over to them.”

She nodded. “Sounds fair enough.”

“Why are you being fair to a crazy person?” I asked.

“Because, as stupid as it seems, Calla seems to like you. I’ll kill you if you hurt her, but she could use some friends.”

“So, if I’m not crazy and I don’t hurt her, we’re good? Sounds like a fair proposition from where I’m standing, since I know I’m not crazy and I have no intention of ever hurting Calla.”

“Yeah, well, from where I’m standing, you still need to prove it. But, at least I’m willing to give you that chance, right?” Bianca smiled and stuck out her hand. We shook on it.

“I think you’re crazier than either Calla or me,” I smiled.

“Probably. But I’m an artist, comes with the deal.” She shrugged. “Shall we?”

I nodded and we headed for the door. We walked down the stairs.

“So, how long have you known Calla?” I asked.

“A long time.”

“So you know her really well?” I inquired.

“Better than anyone.”

“So she’s going to be a PhD, huh? I bet her parents must be really proud.”

Bianca turned to me with a smile when we reached the main floor..

“Is that a lawyer thing?”

“What?”

“Asking all these probing questions, to try to pump me for information.”

I blinked. “I was just curious.”

“Yeah, well, you can ask Calla that stuff yourself.”

We got a cab and rode the rest of the way in silence.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Chapter Thirty-Two: She Drives Me Crazy

“Listen, Bianca,” I said, after an incredibly awkward silence, “I don’t know what Calla’s said about me, but we’re just friends…”

“Calla doesn’t have friends. Or boyfriends. She has me, and that’s it. So where did you come from?”

I furrowed my brow. “I met her last week, at the coffee shop near my work. We flirted a little, sort of. She seems nice. I don’t know how I’ve offended you…”

“You haven’t.” Bianca smiled. “It’s my job to keep her safe. And I don’t know you. It’s nothing personal.”

“My balls are considerably personal.”

She laughed. “Lighten up! That’s hyperbole. Roomies and best friends are entitled.”

I tried to smile. “Well, she’s lucky to have such a dedicated friend. Seriously, I’m not here to hurt her, that’s far from my plans.”

“But you do want to date her, right? It’s not like you’re agenda free.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to her. But I have zero problem with just being friends with her.”

“That’s good. Because the chances of anything more are worse than the chances that I’ll marry Brad Pitt.”

Bianca sipped her water as I sat back in my chair, digesting what she’d just told me.

“Why are my chances so bad?”

She appraised me over the rim of her glass for several seconds. Then she shrugged.

“It’s not my job to protect you, just her. If you’re going to be persistent, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Bianca put her glass down on the coffee table.

“Persist with what? You already said she doesn’t have boyfriends. I guess that means you don’t need to worry.”

Bianca laughed again. “You’re stupid, Diggory. Do you think I’d be grilling you, if she wasn’t interested?”

I groaned. “You’re crazier than she is! You say she doesn’t date, that I don’t have a chance, and yet she’s interested? That makes no sense.”
“Of course it doesn’t. Calla probably doesn’t realize it herself. But she’s talked about you way too much in the past week for it to be just some casual thing, a random meeting with a nothing guy. She likes you. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

“So, again, why no chance?” I was getting tired of going round in circles.

“Because Calla is Calla. You’ll see.” Bianca got up. I stood, reflexively, trying to mind my manners with this incomprehensible girl.

She sighed. “You seem like a nice guy, Mr. Franklin. Calla is a nice girl. But that doesn’t mean she’s the right girl for you. Just trust me on this. You don’t want to get involved.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m sure,” I said. “Maybe I would, if you weren’t being so damn cryptic about it.”

Bianca raised an eyebrow. “Look, I’m not going to share my friend’s problems with a stranger. I shouldn’t be saying anything at all, except that I don’t want you pushing your way into her life, only to find out you don’t want to be there. I don’t want her getting hurt. Get it? She has baggage enough. Don’t add to it.”

I nodded. “If it’s the bipolar thing, you don’t need to worry. I already suspected it, and wanted to talk to you about what to do.”

Bianca blinked. “Pardon?”

“Ever since she came to talk to me last Thursday evening, I’ve wondered what was going on. It’s the only explanation. Her mood swings are so volatile.”

This comment caused Bianca to laugh. I watched her, wondering if perhaps Calla wasn’t the only crazy person. Gradually, Bianca regained her composure.

“You think Calla’s crazy? She’s the most sane person I know, for all her problems. I’m thinking you’re the one who needs to see a shrink, Calla was with me last Thursday.”

“What?” I said, utterly shocked.

“Calla went to class like normal, and came home in the afternoon. She and I were here the whole time, watching movies. She told me she met you that morning, which is when I began to realize she must be interested, or she wouldn’t have mentioned it. Inviting you to the gallery was icing on the cake. But now… I think you’d better leave.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“We have enough to deal with here, without adding more craziness. Get out.”

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Chapter Thirty-One: Do This

I decided not to wait.

I got up from my desk and left the office, calling out to Lorraine as I went past.

“Clear my schedule, Lorraine. I’ll be back when I’m back.”

Not giving her time to answer, I marched to the elevators and headed down to the lobby. I exited swiftly and hailed a taxi, getting in and giving the driver Calla’s address.

I wanted answers, and I wanted them yesterday.

The cabbie pulled up to an apartment building a few blocks from the university, where the bustling and shiny downtown core gave way to older buildings. I guessed a lot of students found housing in this district, given that it was noticeably cheaper while still being close to campus. That, and there were college girls in tight shorts, using up the last few days of warm weather the best they knew how.

How I missed university. Sigh.

I shook off this momentary nostalgia and strode to the front door, pressing the intercom button for her apartment.

“Who is it?” A female voice answered.

“Diggory Franklin, for Ms. Calla Wiley,” I announced, in my most professional voice.

“Oh, the lawyer! Hi, it’s Bianca. We met at the gallery, I think.” Her voice was warm and friendly.

“Hi, how are you?” I answered nicely. Then I remembered that I was here on a mission. “Can I come up?”

“Sure.” She buzzed me in and I fairly flew up the stairs towards their place. I knocked on the door a few minutes later.

“Hi, Mr. Franklin,” Bianca said as she opened the door. She was wearing a billowy skirt and a tank top, all in greens and browns. Her hair was still in a disarray of braids and plaits, tangled in a jumble on her head.

“Hello, Bianca. Is Calla in?”

“I’m afraid not, she’s still out. Can I get you something while you wait? Tea, or water or something?”

She ushered me into the apartment. Pictures abounded on the walls, colour prints as well as black-and-whites. Some had frames, but the majority were up with staples, tape or (presumably) sticky tack. Plants in pots sprawled across tables and shelves, spider plants and bamboo. The furniture, by contrast, was free of clutter, and perfectly angled for guests to sit. I guessed that the roommates had a standing agreement that the artist could decorate, so long as the scientist got a certain amount of cleanliness.

“Uh, water would be great,” I said, deflating. My sense of purpose had carried me here, but now that I was here, without Calla, I had no idea what to do next.

Bianca headed off to the kitchen and I heard cupboards and the refrigerator open and close. She was back momentarily with cups of water.

“Hope you like Brita filters, we don’t do plastic bottles and I hate tap water.”

“Thanks, this is perfect.” I sipped slowly. “Do you expect her back soon?”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Bianca gestured at an armchair, while she herself sat on the arm of the couch. I smiled sheepishly and sat as directed, and then realized she hadn’t answered my question.

“So, Calla…” I began again.

“She’ll be in shortly. She likes to come home for lunch before going back to class or the lab. I thought we could use the time to get to know each other.”

“Oh, well, that’s nice…” I reflected that, being roommates, they must be close, and therefore Bianca’s interest must reflect Calla having discussed me. Or, so I hoped.

“If you hurt her, I will feed your balls to you. One at a time.”

I gulped. I hadn’t counted on the over-protective roommate scenario.