Chapter 16

Jason headed downstairs. “I got up in time for breakfast,” he announced. He sat at the table and Aja placed a plate before him. “Bacon and eggs? What’s the occasion?” He spotted an envelope addressed simply, Jason. “What’s this? A birthday card?”

“It’s a little birthday breakfast. Happy birthday, Jason.”

“How did you know it’s my birthday?”

“When you came to the clinic for your eye exam, you filled out a medical history form that includes your date of birth. I got curious, looked up your file and saw it was coming up.”

“It’s not really a day I celebrate,” he replied. “I remember having birthday parties once I was fostered with my mom and dad. As I got older it became less important to me. Once I left home, I stopped thinking about it.”

“Doesn’t your mom send you a birthday card?”

“I asked her to stop and she honored my request.”

“Everybody should have a special day, Jason.”

“I appreciate it, Aja. Since it feels like we’re both starting over in some regards, maybe I should start celebrating it again. When’s your birthday?”

“April eleventh.”

“It’s a ways off. I’ll make a note of it. It’s too late for me to schedule a day off.”

“What if you called in sick?” she asked.

“That would not make me very popular at the station. Jon would need to stay late, Roger would need to come in early and one of the audio guys in TV would need to put together the radio news with Jake. On top of that, the station would need to pay both of them overtime, and they run a lean ship.”

“What if you’re really sick?” she asked.

“I’ve worked when I’ve had the flu and a fever. If you have a doctor’s note, you can get away with it ... shit happens and they know it. Otherwise, it’s a black mark on your record and if too many of those pile up...”

“Understood. What are your plans for today?”

“Phyllis and Daymon are coming to my apartment this morning to help me move some of my stuff here -- mainly, clothes and my audio gear. One of the floaters at the station has a panel van I can borrow, and I bought some storage tubs from the hardware. I’ll just stash everything in the basement until I have time to sort through it. Speaking of which ... Aja, you have that large, unfinished basement. All that’s down there is the washer and dryer, and some shelves. We should think about finishing it. I was looking around -- there’s rough-in plumbing for a powder room, at least. Maybe we could install a full bath.”

“It’s an awful lot of money finishing a basement,” she replied.

“Yeah, but once I’m out of my lease, I can put rent money toward a project like that. We could build a nice workout room for you and you could move your equipment down there. That would free up the garage and I could have covered parking for the first time in my life.”

“It would be nice to work out and not be cold in the winter and hot in the summer.”

“A finished basement would add value to the place when it’s time to sell it. Think of it as an investment, Aja. It’s not something that needs to get done tomorrow.”

“All right -- we’ll think about it. Now, I need to be on my way.”

Jason embraced her and they kissed. “I’ll call once we go simulcast.”

“I love it that you call me every night, Jason. I feel ... connected.”

“See you after work ... and, thanks for the birthday card.”

Jason parked the beat-up and rusty panel van in the parking lot of his apartment complex. Standing by the rear doors he waited, watching the street and entrance to the lot. Soon he saw an immaculate white, late-model Chrysler 300 approaching. The car entered the lot and parked in a stall adjacent to the panel van.

Phyllis stepped from the behind the wheel and Daymon emerged from the passenger’s side. “Thanks for helping out,” he said. “I need to be at work by three, and I’ll drop the van off on my way so I think we have plenty of time.”

“We’re happy to help, aren’t we, Daymon.”

“Yeah.”

Jason opened the panel van and removed a stack of plastic tubs. “I’ll take those,” Phyllis said.

“Daymon, can you bring that stack of lids? Follow me.” Jason headed toward his apartment building. He held his wallet against a sensor to unlock the lobby door and then led Phyllis and Daymon to an elevator. They rode to the fourth floor. He unlocked his apartment.

“How can we help?” Phyllis asked.

“Well, if you can start emptying my closet into the tubs, I can have Daymon help me start unhooking my electronics.”

“Just show me the way.”

“Closet’s over there,” Jason replied. “Daymon, give me a hand here.”

“You got some sick gear,” Daymon remarked.

“Let’s start with these speakers.”

“Polk speakers,” Daymon remarked. “Nice.”

“You know your equipment. If you could start carrying these to the van.” Jason took his wallet out of his pocket and removed the magnetic pass card. “Take this so you can get back in the building. I’ll leave the door to the corridor unlocked.”

Daymon picked up one of the column speakers and headed out the door. Jason began unhooking cables. Phyllis deposited a tub of clothing on the floor near the door. Her nephew appeared at the door. “Daymon -- take this out, too.”

“Yes, m’am,” he replied and picked up the tub. He returned shortly and carried the second speaker column out the door.

Jason pulled a black box from a shelf. “This stuff is dusty,” he remarked and obtained a damp paper towel from his kitchen.

Daymon returned. “What’s next, Jason?”

“Maybe that center speaker or the receiver.”

“I can take ‘em both.” Daymon stacked the receiver on the speaker cabinet and carried them out the door. He returned to the apartment. “What’s next?”

“I’m still untangling wiring,” Jason replied.

“I could take the TV.”

“It’s kinda heavy. Can you manage?”

Daymon hefted it. “No problem, bro.”

Phyllis brought another tub of clothing from Jason’s closet. “Here’s more for Daymon ... Where is he?”

Jason looked up. “He’s not back? I had him take the TV down. I’d better go check.” He headed out the door and bounded down four flights of stairs. Outside he saw a pair of police squad cars with lights flashing and another one approaching. A downstairs neighbor he recognized was talking to a uniformed officer. He saw Daymon, lying prone on the pavement, his hands cuffed behind his back and another officer standing near him.

“What’s going on here?” Jason asked, sprinting toward Daymon.

“Sir, stand back,” the officer said. Jason saw the cop had his gun drawn.

Jason backpedaled, his hands up. “You’re making a mistake,” he said. “That’s my fiancee’s cousin. He’s helping me move.”

Mary Lou, his neighbor approached him with the other officer. By now two more cops were on the scene. “Jason,” she said excitedly, “we caught one red-handed!”

“Report of a Black youth removing electronic equipment from the building,” the cop said, while writing on a clipboard. He looked at Jason. “What’s your name?”

“Jason Brown. Officer -- that’s my fiancee’s cousin. He and his aunt are helping me move. This is all my stuff.”

“Do you have some ID?”

Jason patted his pockets. “It’s in my apartment. I gave Daymon my pass card.”

The officer stepped to one of the squads and retrieved a clear evidence envelope. “This?”

“Yeah -- that’s my pass card. I gave it to him so he could get in and out of the apartment.”

A police lieutenant approached them. “What do we have here?”

“The lady called in a report of a Black youth burglarizing an apartment, but this man says it’s ... who did you say it was?”

“My fiancee’s cousin,” Jason replied in exasperation. “I’m ending my lease here so I can go live with my fiancee.”

The lieutenant turned to Mary Lou. “M’am?”

Mary Lou’s mouth moved as if trying to speak but no words came out. “I ... I know Jason, he’s lived here at least ten years. If that’s what he says, I believe him.”

“And, this is Jason?”

“Yes ... yes...”

“Give me my pass card and I’ll go get my ID,” Jason demanded.

“Give it to him,” the lieutenant ordered.

“I will be right back.” Jason sprinted to the building and up the stairs. “Phyllis,” he called, panting to catch his breath. “You’d better come with me. There’s some major bullshit going on outside.” He picked up his wallet and she followed him outside.

“Oh, my goodness,” she exclaimed as she approached the scene.

Jason pulled his driver’s license from his wallet and handed it to the lieutenant. The cop eyed it and him. “All right, all right -- stand down,” he shouted. “Release the kid.”

The cop standing over Daymon holstered his pistol and unlocked the handcuffs. “You can go.”

Daymon stood, spotted Phyllis and ran toward her. “Auntie!” he cried and she embraced him.

The lieutenant approached Jason. “There’s obviously been a misunderstanding,” he said.

“Obviously,” Jason replied, attempting to contain his rage. “I would like everybody’s badge number.”

“Here’s my card,” the lieutenant said. “I take responsibility for my men.”

“Everybody’s badge number. You can write them on the back of that card.”

The cop put two fingers under his upper lip, whistled and gestured all the officers. He started writing on the back of the card. “Which one took the call?”

“I did, sir,” one of the cops replied, “from dispatch.”

Jason stepped to the panel van and looked inside. “Three speakers, receiver, LG TV and a tub of clothes. I guess it’s all here.”

“Here are the boy’s personal effects,” the lieutenant said, handing the evidence envelope to Jason. “Come on, boys -- let’s clear out.”

“What about filing a false report?” Jason asked. “Shouldn’t someone get a summons for that?”

“Not when it’s done in good faith,” the lieutenant replied.

Jason watched the squads head out of the parking lot and onto the street. Mary Lou approached him. “I’m sorry, Jason -- I had no idea he could be connected to you. I simply can’t understand why anyone would want to be involved with ... one of them.”

“Mary Lou -- Right now I’d rather be engaged to one of them than to any of you! This was completely unjustified. Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to them!” He turned on his heels and headed toward Phyllis, who was still comforting her nephew. “Let’s go in.”