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Andy was the first person Jim saw at the office the next morning. “Wow, what happened to you, Tuna?” he asked in his annoyingly cheerful way. “Must have continued that celebration at home. Beer battered tuna?” Andy pursed his lips and opened and closed them like a fish.
Jim mumbled a short , “Nope, couldn’t sleep,” and went straight to the kitchen to find coffee. The truth was, he hadn’t gotten much sleep, but he’d been up thinking rather than drinking. He’d come up with a few questions he needed answers for, and he intended to get them this morning.
As various other people filtered in and out of the kitchen, they glanced at him and simply shook their heads. Let them think I’m hung over, he thought. He didn’t want any discussions right now.
Finally Kelly bounced in and, of course, wasn’t deterred at all. “Jim, wow you look bad, did you keep drinking last night?” She continued without waiting for an answer. “That whole stalker thing must have been scary for Pam, especially since you’re not around. In New York I mean. Ryan totally told me all about it. So, what happened?”
“Kelly, I’d rather not discuss this right now, okay? Pam’s fine. Is Ryan here yet?” Jim kept his tone unemotional.
“Nope, not yet. Oooh, I can’t wait.” She squealed and left abruptly.
A couple of minutes before nine, he went to his desk without attracting any attention and sat at his desk, readying his computer for work like any other day. Ryan showed up about fifteen minutes late and settled in at the reception desk. Seconds later Kelly walked over to wish him an enthusiastic “Good morning” and he responded with a glance and a hesitant, “Hi, Kelly.”
Jim waited until Dwight finished a client call and then asked him quietly, “Dwight, since you’re a volunteer deputy sheriff of Lackawanna County, I’d like to ask for your help this morning.”
“Stop making fun of me, Jim,” he said matter of factly. “Besides, why would you need assistance today?”
“I’m serious, Dwight. I’m asking you to do me a favor.”
Dwight cocked his head. The look on Jim’s face must have been sincere enough.
“You’re serious,” he stated.
“Yes.”
“What do you want me to do?” Dwight asked, still a little suspicious.
“I want you to maintain order.”
“What?”
“Do you still have that mace? Like the stuff you used on Roy that time?”
Dwight immediately went into “defensive” mode, looked left and right, and said, “No, of course not, why do you ask?”
“Dwight, I know you have it - I’m not going to get you in trouble or make you turn it in. I won’t tell HR. Besides, you might need it.”
“If I did have it, what would you want me to do?” Dwight asked, now intrigued.
“Dwight, I need to have a discussion with someone, and for the first time I can ever remember, I don’t trust myself not to resort to physical violence. So I want you to be present, and if I start at him, I want you to spray me”
“Spray you?” Dwight asked incredulously.
“Yes, I don’t need an assault charge on my record. How would that look to Pam’s parents, now that we’re engaged?”
“Good point.” Dwight considered. “You’re serious?” he asked one more time.
“Without a doubt.” The resolve in Jim’s voice must have been convincing.
“Okay, I will assist you. When and where?”
“In a few minutes. I’ll let you know, okay? It’ll be in the break room.”
“Very well.” Dwight looked suspiciously around the room to make sure no one was looking at him and then bent down and reached behind one of the legs on his desk to obtain a cylinder. He ripped off the tape and slipped it discreetly in his pants pocket. “Ready,” he nodded to assure Jim.
“Thanks, buddy.”
About half an hour later, everyone was settled into their work, and Jim turned to Dwight.
“Okay, now’s the time. I’m going to ask Ryan if we can talk in the break room.”
“Ryan?” Dwight seemed puzzled. “What’s this about?”
“You’ll see.”
Jim approached the reception desk to talk to Ryan, trying to control the distain in his voice. Jim wasn’t entirely sure he was right about this, but if he was, well, it wasn’t going to be pretty. “Hey Ryan, could I talk to you for a few minutes? In the break room maybe?”
“Talk? Sure, what about? Hey, did Pam get home okay last night.” Ryan asked. Jim thought he looked jittery.
“Yes, she did, “Jim answered. “I just want to ask you a few questions. About New York.”
“Okay, sure.” His eyes brightened. “Let me switch this to the machine.”
As Ryan came out from behind the desk, Jim nodded discreetly to Dwight, and he followed Jim and Ryan into the break room.
“What is this about, Jim? Man, you look a little rough. Too many last night?”
“Ryan, sit down there.”
“What?”
“Just sit down.” Jim’s tone was authoritative.
“What the…? Why?” he asked, but Ryan sat.
Jim sat at another table, several feet from him. Dwight positioned himself to the side of the tables.
“What is this? Why is Dwight here?“ Ryan was getting annoyed.
“Ryan, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to give me some answers. The truth.”
“What are you talking about?” Ryan’s eyes darted around the room.
“Why did you think Pam was getting phone calls in New York?”
“This is ridiculous, you said she wasn’t,” Ryan accused.
“She was, she just hadn’t told me. And I think you knew she was. Did you have anything to do with those calls?”
Ryan’s hands rubbed his thighs nervously. “Why would you think that? That’s ridiculous,” he repeated without conviction.
“Ryan, let’s make sure you understand me. If you tell me the truth now, I won’t say another word to you about this, and I won’t get you into trouble for this, or. . . your other habits.”
“What are you implying?”
Jim’s self control was wearing thin. “Don’t bullshit me, Ryan, or I’ll have you in more trouble than you’ve ever dreamed possible, buddy. If you think Michael’s leering is bad, wait until you get to prison,” Jim said, his voice uncharacteristically venomous.
Ryan was now looking at Jim soberly, and he was clearly frightened. Good, Jim thought, you should be.
A glance at Dwight saw him surprised at Jim’s tone, and he’d drawn the mace from his pocket . He held it dutifully at the ready, aimed in Jim’s direction.
“What is Dwight doing?” Ryan asked with a frown.
“He’d going to spray me with mace if I try to get up and give you what you deserve.”
“What the…?”
“Answer the damn question, Ryan!”
Just then, Michael popped his head in the door and viewed the strange scene with curious surprise.
“Not your problem, Michael.” Jim warned decisively.
“Jimbo, what’s go. . .”
“Trust me, you should go away, Michael. You are not needed here now,” Dwight said emphatically. “I have this under control.”
Michael’s eyebrows raised, he quipped a short “okay” and pulled his head back out, walking away from the door.
Jim’s gaze had never left Ryan. “I am so serious, man. I know what your little habits are and I’ll make sure the authorities do, too, if you don’t talk to me right. now. What do you know about those phone calls? ”
Ryan sat, nervously weighing his options, and then started to talk. “Okay. I was in New York a couple of weeks ago with some of Troy’s friends.”
“You mean some of his other customers?”
Ryan shot him a dirty look, but continued. “We were kind of. . .drunk. . .and we were talking about women and art came up somehow and I told them about Pam. And they decided to call her.”
“You mean high. And why did you call her?”
“Roger was going to offer to pose nude for her.” Ryan was bouncing his leg nervously now. “That was not my idea, Jim. It got way out of hand. But he lost his nerve every time he called and ended up just hanging up. It was stupid but it was harmless.”
“Scaring someone with anonymous phone calls is not harmless.” Jim stated flatly, even as he felt a great urge to throttle Ryan.
The thought of some drugged up juvenile friend of Ryan’s causing Pam to be frightened had him seething. Ryan was clearly uncomfortable with the look Jim was giving him, and he was beginning to sweat. As well he should be, Jim thought. He looked up at Dwight, who was holding the mace still trained in his direction.
“How about the stalking?” Jim pressed.
“Now wait a minute, Jim, I have no idea about that.” Ryan looked genuinely scared now. “These guys were just. . .drunk and having some fun - they wouldn’t do anything like that. They don’t even know what she looks like.”
“How did you know her dorm room phone number?”
“I answer the phones here, Jim.”
“Let me get this straight. You put Pam’s dorm room telephone number in your cell phone while you were here answering phones?” he asked incredulously.
Ryan quickly looked down.
“You son of a bitch.” Jim started to get up but Dwight threatened him with the spray, and he forced himself to back down, gripping the table edge in anger.
“Honestly Jim, they weren’t the ones following Pam last night. They couldn’t have been. We didn’t have anything to do with that,” he said defensively.
Ryan looked again at Dwight, realized he was safe, and suddenly his tone changed. “She didn’t tell you about the phone calls, did she?”
Jim glanced downward now.
A smug smile spread over Ryan's face. “Why not, Jim? I thought you two were soul mates? But your girlfriend . . .”
“Fiancee.” Jim corrected.
“. . .whatever that term’s good for with Pam,” Ryan quipped.
Jim bristled, but Ryan continued defiantly. “So your fiancée who is in New York all by herself didn’t call you when she felt threatened, did she? Why is that? Because she knows you wouldn’t do anything? That you were pretty much useless? “
“She thought it was a stupid prank.” Jim defended himself. “And she was right.”
“So why didn’t she tell you? And there are a few other things, while we’re talking. Tell me Jim, did you ask her to marry you because you thought she might have too good of a time in New York if you didn’t? Don’t you realize that you’re weighing Pam down now just like Roy did before? Sure, you’re a step up from Roy, but come on, you’re not New York. She’s a nice girl and now she doesn’t want to hurt you, just like she didn’t want to hurt Roy. I bet she loves it there, doesn’t she? Tell me I’m wrong.”
“She likes art school.” Jim fought to keep his voice even.
“I’m sure she does. She likes all the amazing things that New York has to offer, and she likes being free of Scranton. I know what it’s like, I was there. So why don’t you let her make something of herself there? Because what’s she going to think in 15 years when she’s stuck as your wife in some little crummy house in Scranton? “ Ryan tossed his head back. He was on a roll. “Three snotty kids, a job she hates, and you’re still selling paper. And there is never quite enough money. She’s bored, she’s tired, and you’ll be the one that kept her from getting what she really wanted. How will it be then for her, Jim? Huh?”
“I think that’s enough, Ryan.”
Ryan ignored the comment and kept talking. “We didn’t have anything to do with following Pam last night, Jim, and I’m glad she’s okay. We may have done something stupid, but at least I’m not stupid enough to stay here for the rest of my life. Betcha Pam would love to have other plans, too. But you? You’ll be sitting here selling paper and eating ham sandwiches until you get old and gray. How’s that for the truth, Jim?”
Jim looked up only to see that Dwight looked furious, and was pointing the mace in Ryan’s direction now. Thanks Dwight, he thought silently.
“I know Pam better than you do, and we love each other. And I’ll expect you get your ass out there right now and call Pam, tell her about the phone calls, and apologize,” he said in a controlled voice. He would not let this little prick get to him.
“Okay.” Ryan shrugged. “I’m a big enough person to acknowledge my mistakes. Maybe you could learn from that. So I’ll call and this will be the end of all of this?” Ryan asked, obviously implying that Jim would not say anything about this or his other New York activities.
“That was the deal.”
With that, Ryan walked back out to the reception desk and picked up the phone.
“Thanks Dwight,” Jim said, and he was sure he saw a hint of compassion on Dwight’s face before he spoke.
“Nonsense, I was glad to do my duty. How did you know about Ryan?” Dwight asked.
“I didn’t.”
For a moment, Dwight looked at him with a new respect. Then he said, “A good provider and successful man protects his woman from harm, thus enhancing the survival of his offspring.” The moment was over.
“Okay then,” was all that Jim could muster.
“I’ll be at my desk if you need further assistance,” Dwight said, as he put the mace back in his pocket and left Jim sitting alone in the break room.
So… Jim thought, Ryan had been behind the phone calls, and Pam being followed home last night was some random event, and that was good news. Why don't I feel better?
Five minutes later his cell phone rang.
He glanced at the number and answered, “Hi.”
“Hey, Ryan Howard just called me and told me that some people he knew made those heavy breathing calls. How weird is that? Did you have anything to do with him apologizing?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll look forward to that story.” Jim could hear her smile. “That person last night must have been some creep who just followed me from the art museum. I feel a lot better now, so thanks, whatever you did. I’m going to go out Friday like I’d planned before and not worry about this. Then you can come Saturday morning to get me. Yay. Listen, I have to turn this project in in exactly three hours and I have two hours and fifty nine minutes worth of work left to do on it. So, I’ll call you right after my one o’clock, okay?”
“Okay.” Jim said quietly.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he said, and wearily rose to return to his desk. He had paper to sell, and a lot to think about.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Jim has some suspicions.
(This story has already departed from canon, but I'm going to continue with the idea.)
(This story has already departed from canon, but I'm going to continue with the idea.)
Chapter End Notes:
Friday night out? We'll see what happens.
