Free The Life We Lead: Ascending by George Nagle Page A

times and made
sure I spelled ‘fishermen,’ not ‘fisherman.’ He wouldn’t give me
anything else. It was messed up. I didn’t want to come get you when
he first called, but after he hung up, I almost did.” Edgar’s voice
was semi-rising in volume. “You in trouble or something? This is
some shit like out of a bad spy movie.”
    This caused a rumble as all eyes turned to
James.
    “Everything’s fine. It’s a group that fishes,
and apparently they wanted to be clear who was calling. You know,
being plural for a group and not just someone calling themselves a
fisherman and sounding like a tool.” James knew that sounded
weak.
    None of the guys were convinced, but Edgar
spoke up. “Two things wrong with that. One, you don’t fish, and
two, why would he call at 11:30, I mean 11:31, at night? And why
insist on saying the time three times?”
    James thought, Because he’s a dip shit
recruit that didn’t know what he was doing .
    Out loud, James replied, “I’m going with my
dad and uncle out West to where this group is, so there’s a time
difference. As far as being so specific, I can only guess.”
    It still sounded weak, so James began
building a more elaborate version in his head. His friends weren’t
complete morons, but they knew nothing about the group, or most of
what James did, or what skills he really had for that matter.
    “If you’re in trouble, man, say so,” came
John’s hoarse voice.
    “We got your back, bro,” said Dylan, and Mark
nodded over his cereal.
    James deliberately took a deep breath, and
the others knew what was coming. He was about to unleash a string
of logic on them that would explain the story he’d just built.
    “The group probably isn’t a full-time
professional organization. The person who called did it after
normal work hours, when he had the chance. I suspect he realized
after you answered what time it was on the East Coast, but he had
you on the phone so he wanted to give you the message. It would
also stand to reason that the caller is rather anal retentive and
an introvert. He referred to the fishing group in the plural to
make sure he got your attention. The group is evidently important
to him. Since most individuals who fish have limited friends and
move in small groups, thus the introvert, they place a high value
on what social time they have with others. The time was more than
likely his way of acknowledging the lateness but also the anal part
to make sure you took a message, as was the spelling of
‘fishermen.’ I would venture to say he started off with “May I
speak with James?” and not “Hi, is James there?”
    Edgar nodded. The rest of the room stared for
a second before moving to get out the door.
    “If I were in trouble, I would come to you
guys, no doubt.” James said this to give finality to the
conversation. He, of course, knew what the message really was
about. Something had come up with the police, and the group was
letting him know he needed to be in touch.
    “Still weird, man, but whatever.” Edgar
grabbed his food out of the toaster and set off to class.
    ***
    The day was horrible. The seats did not help
James’s side, nor did the note taking in the review sessions for
finals. His injury was killing him, but he knew nothing was broken
and he wasn’t hemorrhaging. He also wasn’t looking forward to that
night and getting hit. The anticipation of more pain made
everything worse. Anticipation always made things worse.
    In his second class of the day, James found
Tammy. She had a soft, youthful face with pale green eyes. She was
very quiet and didn’t mix with a lot of people, but she was very
smart. She also had a big heart that her boyfriend sometimes
abused.
    “Hi, Tam,” James said, taking the seat to her
right.
    “Hey,” she returned.
    “Sorry I didn’t call you back last night. I
was beat by the time I got the message, but if you’d still like to
study together for P-Chem, that’s cool,” said James.
    “Yeah, sure. I