Phantoms under Glass

by
Melody Clark

"You haven't even touched your dinner," Vinnie said, pushing the plate with a shove in the other man's direction. "The carrots are good. They're good for you, too."

McPike stared hard over his glasses at him. "What? You wanna cut up my steak for me now?"

"I was just sayin' -- "

"Yeah, well, I been eatin' with the big boys for a while now, Vince. Stop changing the subject on me and tell me where we stand on the case."

"Ah," Vince said, swatting at the air in the direction of the topic at hand. "You don't want to hear that stuff. That's ... work."

"Which is my point," Frank said.

Vinnie laughed lightly, then shook his head. "Hey, you know, Uncle Mike said you guys had a nice visit."

"Yeah, it was okay. He talked a lot about retirement. I yawned." McPike pondered the region on his plate over which sprawled a white-ish substance intended to be instant potatoes. "You know, when you order mashed, you got two possibilities. You got the good possibility. And then you got the ricey, runny one. As usual, I got stuck with the Old Maid."

"Stop whining and eat."

McPike plunked down his fork. "No, let's get back to the case. You in yet?"

Vinnie smiled fondly, nodding. "Yeah, I'm in. You know me, I play best at offense."

"You're offensive alright. Okay. You're in. You got contact?"

"I got contact, I got contact."

"The big kahuna?"

"Big enough."

"What's your cover?"

"I'm a ... diamond thief," Vinnie said, wishing he didn't sound so bored, because that would be abundantly clear to McPike, of all people,.

"Diamond thief?" McPike said, raising a crooked eyebrow. "The mob's movin' ice now?"

"Not just now. For awhile. Blood diamonds, you know all that. You just don't remember but you read the whole Federal white paper on it. You bitched at my ass about it, too."

"I did?"

"Yeah, you did."

McPike shook his head. "I'm gettin' old, Vinnie. Gettin' slow. Gettin' hard to keep the playbook in my head anymore."

"Tell me about it. We're both gettin' old."

"You'll never get old," Frank said, screwing up his face as if at the silliness of the thought. "But ... you know, maybe it's time to start thinking about the coaching stuff, Vince. Yeah, you're fine now, but you're a half second slower, which doesn't matter a lot now but someday it may. And then your total lack of interest in what I'm saying says something, too."

"I'm listenin'!"

"You listen, Vince, but you don't hear. But then so what else is new? You gettin' bored?"

Vinnie laughed, smiling love at the man across the table at him. "I'm gonna get bored with you? Forget about it. That ain't happenin'."

"Yeah, right," Frank said, looking away. After a moment, something different clouded his eyes. He focused down at his plate, then up again at Vinnie. "You know, maybe it's time to start thinking about the coaching stuff, Vince -- "

"You said that."

"I did?"

"Yeah, just a minute ago. Now eat your veggies. I gotta go in a sec. Oh, Drake sends his love and says he'll be down to see you tomorrow."

McPike's eyes seemed distant for a second, but then they cleared a little. He nodded. "If it happens, it happens."

Vinnie smiled sadly, so sadly it took him an extra second to stand. "And I'll be up next week. So don't forget about me in the meantime, okay?"

Frank stood up with him, looking at him as if the younger man had gone a little crazy. "I'm gonna forget about you? How?"

Vinnie took McPike's face between his hands. He stared hard into eyes in which he saw a thousand distinct memories, each mirrored with their own equal place in Vinnie Terranova's heart. He kissed one side of the other man's face and then the other. "I love you, you old
jerk. You remember that, too."

"I know, I know. You slobber on me in public every time you're here." McPike grinned. "I love you, too, now get your ass out of here and do what they pay you all the crappy money to do, okay?"

"Okay," Vince said, making himself turn away. Making himself walk away. Making himself open the door from the patio to the outside world like a scab on a well healed wound. He tossed a look back at the older man, now seated again in his chair. He now stared out at glass-covered phantoms the shapes of which Vinnie could only see glimpses of with his own set of older eyes. He called out in a loud
voice that was soon choked by the tightness in his throat. "See ya, Frank."

There was no reply.

Vince walked out into a load of direct sunlight and there, waiting for him, was the young man he was many years ago -- okay, his name now was David O'Brian, he was half-black and half-Irish but all full of the same degree of youthful, cocksure bullshit that had filled a once-young Vinnie Terranova to the brim. And it was now Coach Vinnie's job to knock some of it out of him. Not all of it ... just enough to keep him alive.

The kid was smirking from ear to ear. Vinnie recognized that smirk. He'd shone it over at Frank so many times. Now Vinnie wanted to slap it off Davey's face as hard as McPike had probably wanted to wipe it off his.

"That grizzly little old Alzheimer dude ... " Davey said, "was your inside man?"

Vinnie reached over and swatted his shoulder hard. "Hey, you watch your mouth. That man in there is a giant. He's better than I ever was."

"Maybe," David said, smirking even wider. "He wasn't better than I'm gonna be, though."

Terranova could only laugh, shaking his head at the thought. "Oh, don't ever give me a straight line like that, junior. Now enough of your crap. Coach says it's time to hit the road." He pointed toward their car. "Let's ride, Davey. Let's ride."

The End