Hitch

Chapter 6
Follow Your Nose

George headed for the stairs and the main entrance. He still had work to do. He was already writing the followup on the fender bender at Thomas Circle. Jon seemed OK to him but head injuries were unpredictable. He needed to call the mayor’s mansion and Witherspoon Prep.

While he didn’t expect much more than he got yesterday, Pops and the Walrus would be looking for more. Why else would the story about Mrs. Packard’s auto accident have been on the front page and not in the local section. Than again, there was a lack of news during the city’s summer hiatus. Even the newsroom stayed half empty.

He hit the final stair and was heading for the door when he got the call.

“Hey, Lover Boy. Have time for a chat?”

“For you, My Love, I’ve got all the time you want,” George said, stepping over to the receptionists desk.

“He’s staying one more night. Mild concussion, but they want to watch him. He’s some kind of athlete. Horowitz came once. Hasn’t been back. Probably won’t be. A staff doctor is supervising the case. You think Horowitz is scared by the size of the germs at General?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. How about visitors?” George asked.

“No visitors have stopped to ask his room number. It’s been as quiet as I’ve ever seen it, and there’s the bloodhound in the hall outside. No one has called to ask about him either,” Judy told him.

“Why would a boy from the poor side of town need a guard?” George asked.

“He under arrest?” she asked.

“He’s an athlete not doing anything athletic. Well, not in public anyway,” George said as he gave it a second thought. “Than there’s Dr. Horowitz. The doctor who isn’t there. That must mean he doesn’t need the good doctor’s services.”

“You’ve got three other hospitals in town,” Judy said. “The poor folks come here. You want special treatment and luxury accommodations, you don’t come here. Were a good hospital but bare bones. We won’t pad your bill because we can’t add that high. All that’s left is keeping him here so he doesn’t talk to anyone. What’s he got to talk about is the question.”

“When I gave that question a go, I didn’t have an answer, but you asking me gives me a good idea why he’s in a low rent zone with a very expensive guard on his door. They don’t want anyone asking him questions. You’re a doll Judy and your smart.”

“The guard on the door caper only works if you don’t have a receptionist running interference for her favorite reporter,” Judy said.

“isn’t that the truth,” George said. “His mother? They can’t keep his mother from seeing her son,” George said.

“No, they can’t but I’m betting mommy doesn’t know where her little boy is at. Do you know where your kids are?”

“No kids. If I had kids I’d know where they were,” George said. “I think someone needs to tell Mrs. Delesandro where Jon is. I have a hunch it will come as a surprise to her,” George said.

“No one has been here to see him but Horowitz. He looked at the file and handed it back to me. He scooted away from here as fast as his short fat legs would take him. Whatever he was here to do, it didn’t take any time for him to do it.”

“Jon doesn’t need a high powered doctor. That tells me the case would have been a waste of his time. I need to go use a phone. I have a feeling Mrs. Delesandro will leave for work soon.”

“Maybe he called his mother on the phone,” Judy said.

“I’m betting he didn’t. He is being dazzled by some high powered people who aren’t particularly worried about Jon or his mother. A poor kid can be dazzled by the glitz and glitter the wealthy flash around. They put the guard on his door to keep the kid in the dark and it’s time to turn on the light.”

“You let me know how this turns out, Hon. Why do you care about this kid?”

“I don’t get to tell anyone what to do but this kid has a ticket out of palookaville and there are people holding him back. I think he needs a wake up call. I aim to give one if I can,” George said.

“Sweetheart, you the finder of lost dreams?” Judy asked.

“What’s a nice thing to say. Maybe I’m the reminder of what the dream is. He hasn’t lost it but it’s a dream that can fade fast.”

“Problem is, you can get that horse over to where the water is, but if that horse don’t have a mind to drink it, he ain’t going to, Hon.”

“I’m told, but don’t know, this kid is good enough to turn pro. Why wouldn’t he be going in that direction? Instead he’s running around with the mayor’s wife.”

“He’s getting something he ain’t never got before,” Judy said. “And that is the most powerful drug of all. Men are known to get themselves swept right away in the sea of love. Blinded by love.”

“Yes, it is,” George said. “I think I need to call his mother. She needs to know where her son is. It’s not my job to tell her, but I have questions only she can answer,” George said.

“I hope you can help him. He’s here until tomorrow morning, according to Dr. Jasmine.”

“I shall return,” George said dramatically, heading for the door.

George went to the phone booth on the corner. He took out his notebook where he wrote down the Delesandro’s number.”

“Hello!” a soft voice said. “You need to make it fast. I’ve got to catch a bus in five minutes,” she said.

“Mrs. Delesandro, mother of Jon Delesandro?”

“Yes, who is this?” she asked, panic in her voice.

“Calm down. Not a thing to be alarmed about. My name is George Hitchcock. I’m with the city news. Do you have yesterdays edition of the City News, Mrs. Delesandro.”

“Yes, it’s on the coffee table. I haven’t had a chance to read it.”

“OK, first, I just left Jon. He is fine. I was under the impression you hadn’t been informed he had been in an automobile accident yesterday,” George said. “I decided you should be informed.”

A gasp could be heard on the other end of the phone.

“He’s fine. Didn’t you know where your son was?”

“No, I have no idea. He’s not been home in some time. You’re sure he’s all right. Yes, the story is on the bottom of the front page.”

“Front page. A car accident. Why the front page?” she asked.

“Do you know who your son is with, Mrs. Delesandro.”

“That woman,” she spit out.

“What woman is that?” he asked.

“It sure as hell ain’t Ladybird. Mrs. Packard won’t leave Jon alone. I’ve tried to talk to him. He thinks she’s helping him. He’s a talented boy. He can have a future and that damn woman won’t leave him alone. I don’t know what to do.”

“Mrs. Delesandro, can you remember my name?”

“No. Let me right it down. What hospital? I’m going to get fired. I need that job.”

“He is at City General. I’m George Hitchcock, City News. I’m going to give you my home and work numbers. Can you write them down?”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

George gave her two numbers.

“I don’t have a car, Mrs. Delesandro. I’d come pick you up if I did, but you’ll have to decide what’s best for you under the circumstances,” George said. “I understand they will keep him until tomorrow. He is in room 203. They think he has a mild concussion. If you can’t go right away, well, that’s what I know. I called you as soon as I left the hospital.”

“Mr. Hitchcock?”

“George. Call me George,” he said, feeling sympathetic toward the woman..

“Thank you. I don’t know why you felt it was necessary to tell me about my own son, but thank you. I’ll get there somehow. I don’t know what buses go there. I need to be sure my son is OK. I can get another job. I can’t get another son, even if he is hardheaded.”

“I thought you would. Mrs. Delesandro, I hate asking you this right now, but the news waits for no man or mom. Can I interview you about what has been going on with your son. I’ve been told he should be starting a professional tennis career. I don’t know anything about tennis, but if he isn’t using his God given gifts, well, would you talk to me about it. At a time and place of your choosing.”

“Absolutely, I will. You can bet on that,” she said, almost joyful.

“Thank you, Mrs. Delesandro. Everything is going to be OK,” George said, cutting off the call.

He dared not make promises he couldn’t keep. He was hanging on to the story by the skin of his teeth. He needed to make the most of it. He hung the phone up, leaning his head against the cool glass on the phone booth, suddenly exhausted.

He still needed to call Mrs. Packard, and he intended to go to Witherspoon Prep to see Mrs. Wadsworth eye to eye. None of it was appetizing. The battle for Jon Delesandro had begun.

“Hey, Buddy, you going to use that phone or what. People are waiting,” a rude an irritating voice broadcast to anyone who cared.

That’s all he needed. Get in a fist fight over a telephone.

George stepped out of the phone booth and walked to the corner. He wasn’t sure which move he wanted to make next. He wasn’t going to get anything out of Mrs. Packard or Mrs. Wadsworth. He had to try.

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