The Big Time Pt. 08

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Nicole Kidman helps Mike; Tom meets Keira Knightley.
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Part 8 of the 10 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/26/2002
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Chapter 8: The Return

8:24 pm. Saturday, June 7. Somewhere over Nevada.

“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into flying first class.”

“You said you were here on my mother’s dime. She’s got plenty of them, she won’t miss a few thousand.”

John and Michael had been in the air for just under an hour. Michael had spent the last few hours telling John everything that had happened to him, leaving out the parts that might make the old man’s heart stop. Through it all John just smiled and listened, marveling at the luck of it all. If only he had had the same opportunities when he was young.

Whenever John was able to get a word in edgewise, he asked Michael why he never told anyone about these amazing things that were happening to him. Michael never gave him a straight answer about that nor did he tell him why he had no problem leaving all of it behind. The more the two of them spoke the more suspicious John became.

“I can’t wait to tell Rosa about everything. She’s going to go nuts when she sees whose numbers I have in my cell phone,” said Michael. He motioned for the stewardess to give him another whiskey.

“You sure you want another?” asked John.

“Don’t worry, this is the last one,” said Michael as he sipped his drink. “Let me ask you something John.”

“Okay.”

“How much do you get paid?”

John smirked. “You want to know how much I get paid?”

“Yeah, and the rest of the guys who work at the house.”

“Why do you want to know that?” asked John. “You going to offer something better?”

Michael chuckled. “No, just an idle question I’ve had for a long time.”

“That was very impolite of you to ask,” said John. He cleared his throat

“Isn’t it impolite not to answer?” asked Michael. “Never mind. I have a pretty good idea anyway.” Michael reached up and turned his air on.

“You know, Karl at Lockheed is looking forward to you coming back.”

“Heh, I’m sure he is,” said Michael. He reached down and felt the briefcase under his seat to make sure it was still there. Then he pushed the seat recline button and leaned back. John looked at him quizzically.

11:43 pm. Somewhere over Illinois.

The urges of nature drew Michael out of his pleasant stare. He unbuckled his seat belt and headed for the bathroom. Inside his sterile little fortress he contemplated pissing all over the toilet paper so no one else could use it. But he figured that within the next few hours he might need to use it, so he decided against it and let loose into the blue steel of the toilet.

He washed his hands and took out his cell phone. Tapping a few buttons, he checked the time in Australia. Michael dialed Rachael’s hotel room. After seven rings he was about to hang up when he heard a click and a spirited hello.

“Hey Rachael, this is Mike,” said Michael.

“Oh hi Mike! How are you?” asked Rachel.

“Pretty good, you?”

“I’m great!” Rachael seemed to be in a good mood. Michael could hear voices in the background. “Hey! Stop it!” laughed Rachel.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just Tobey acting like a knucklehead!”

“Ohhh, you and Tobey getting a little close are we?” said Michael jokingly.

“Maybe,” said Rachael with a chuckle. “So what have you been up to?”

“Oh you know me Rach, I don’t kiss and tell,” said Michael. “How’s the shoot going?”

“Good, right on schedule,” said Rachael. “Tobey finally settled down. You know he’s a really great actor. Such a great guy too.”

“Well I hope to meet this nice young man when the shoot is over. Perhaps you can bring him over for supper.”

“Very funny Mike,” said Rachael. “Hey! Tobey! Come back here with that! Sorry Mike, can I call you back? Tobey uh, took something of mine.”

Michael laughed. “Hey no problem. Glad you’re having fun.”

“Tobey!” yelled out Rachael. “Grr. Bye!”

The phone clicked and Michael put his cell phone back in his pocket. He went back to his seat and settled in for the rest of the flight.

9:12 am. Sunday, June 8. Torbin Estate. Bethesda, Maryland.

The birds seemed to be especially chipper that morning. Through his open window Michael could hear them squawking and flapping happily. Even on only a few hours sleep Michael felt refreshed, energized. He slipped out of bed and took a long, luxurious shower. Then he dressed and headed out of his little bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen.

Rosa was already awake and preparing breakfast. She smiled with delight as Michael entered the kitchen. “Michael! How are you? Come here and give me a hug!”

Michael gave her a tight squeeze. “Hi Rosa, how’ve you been?”

“Me? Good, I’ve been fine.” She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “Ever since I saw you in that tabloid I’ve been dying to know what you’ve been doing.”

“Tabloid? Really? Do you still have it?” asked Michael.

She nodded. “It’s in my bedroom. I’ll show it to you later, I don’t want your mother to find out about it. So, tell me all about your trip to Los Angeles.”

“It’s kind of a long story Rosa.”

“Well then I’m cooking you a big breakfast.” She turned around and began digging in the refrigerator, pulling out all manner of breakfast food. Sausage, bacon, eggs, pancake mix, bread, and her special homemade strudel.

“I don’t really need all that-“

“Oh when’s the last time you had a decent breakfast? Hmm? And beer and toast is NOT a decent breakfast, no matter what Tom says.”

Michael chuckled. “A very long time Rosa.”

“Well? Sit down, relax,” insisted Rosa. “Tell me everything.”

10:36 am.

After a hearty meal and heartier conversation Michael walked down the side hallway of the house towards the garage. Outside of his father’s den sat a Segway Human Transporter. It looked to be in pristine condition. Michael walked around it, inspecting it closely with his eyes. Then he walked back towards the kitchen.

“Rosa, when did my father get the Segway?”

“A few weeks ago, I think,” replied Rosa.

“Do you know when the last time he rode it was?”

“It’s been at least a couple days. He used to ride that thing for hours at a time.”

“Okay. If you happen to run into him when he’s sober and coherent, tell him not to ride it anymore,” said Michael.

“Why?”

“Just do it, okay?”

Rosa shrugged. “Okay.” She began putting dishes and pans into the sink. “Don’t forget, you’re getting me those autographs right?”

“Yes Rosa.” He took a piece of notebook paper out of his pocket with dozens of names scribbled on them and held it up. “Do you want them individually or can I just get them to sign this piece of paper?”

“Oh no you can’t have them sign that paper! Get those glamour shots, have them sign those. And make sure they’re made out to ‘Rosa, my biggest fan in the world.’”

“You can’t be everyone’s biggest fan Rosa.”

“Says who?”

Michael smiled. “Okay, I’ll be sure to get these as soon as possible.” He turned around and headed out to the garage. He hopped into one of the SUVs and drove off towards the grocery store.

11:46 am.

Back in his room, Michael dusted off his laptop and booted it up. He opened his web browser and sifted through his email. Between the penis enlargement advertisement and the other penis enlargement advertisement he found what he was looking for. Michael double clicked the message.

Michael-

It was difficult-and expensive-but everything has been taken care of. The package should arrive in Bethesda on Tuesday, at exactly 1:30 pm. Everything else will be waiting for you in Chicago.

Take care,

Simon

Short and sweet, Simon apparently was a little unhappy at having to fulfill Michael’s requests in such short order. But according to the email he came through just like he said he would. Come Christmas time Simon would be receiving a generous bonus. Michael checked his watch. He supposed that he should say hello to his parents.

Michael went downstairs and entered his father’s den. Surprisingly, Joseph was awake and shuffling papers. He had a pen in his mouth and was looking back and forth between his blotter and his computer, typing quickly and efficiently. Michael cleared his throat. His father looked up.

“Hi Mike. When’d you get back?” asked Joseph as he typed away.

“Last night. Just wanted to make sure you knew I was here,” said Michael. He turned and opened the door to leave.

“What did you do in LA?”

Certain that his father was not listening, Michael replied, “Nothing much. I made Cameron Diaz eat my cum, that was pretty cool. Where’s mom?”

Joseph crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it in the trash. “Somewhere counting her money, probably.”

Michael sighed and left the room. He wandered around the house, checking rooms he knew his mother would not be in. Down in the gym he realized that he should make up the workout he missed with Lars. He went up to his room, changed and came back down. Michael stepped onto a treadmill, punched the keys and opened up a tattered tabloid.

About forty minutes later Michael finished up and was chugging down a Gatorade from the small refrigerator near the corner of the gym. He noticed his mother walking down the steps in her workout clothes. When she entered the gym, she was quite surprised to see Michael standing there.

“Michael? You’re back.”

“And better than ever.”

Sharon frowned. “What the hell were you doing in California?”

Michael thought a moment. “Spending your money and not working at my internship at Lockheed?”

She stepped close to him. “You think that’s funny mister? How much of my money have you wasted? Huh? Tell me!”

“I’m just joking mother. I was actually in California because I got a job. So I won’t ever be returning to Lockheed.”

“Oh yes you will. Whoever you’re working for can’t compete with them.”

Michael wagged his finger at her. “Don’t you worry about a thing mother. My new employer is going to take good care of me.” He flipped his towel onto his shoulder and went up the stairs out of the gym. Then he turned around and went right back down.

“What the hell is this?” yelled Sharon as she looked at the tabloid. “Michael come back here!”

“No need to yell.” Michael was standing silently behind her.

Sharon spun around. “Do you know what it’s going to do to your reputation if someone recognizes you in one of these trash papers?!”

“My reputation? I don’t have one.”

“What about this company you’re working for? They’re not going to care about these drunken soirees caught on film?!” exclaimed Sharon. With great force of will Michael did not roll his eyes. “Why are you even in this?! And why were you on TV with that little slut hanging off your arm?!”

Michael tried to bite his tongue, but all it did was make his tongue hurt. “You don’t even know her. And you probably never will. But I will answer your questions. Later.” He walked away from his mother out of the gym. She was royally pissed off now. It was coming together perfectly. As he trudged up the main stairway towards his room Joseph came zooming out of the side hallway on his Segway.

“Hey Mike, have you seen my new-“ The servos inside the machine suddenly stopped spinning and Joseph lurched forward over the handles of the Segway and fell flat on his face. The machine tipped over and began sparking, spinning its wheels wildly back and forth. It coughed smoke towards the ceiling for a few moments before shutting down in a quiet sizzle.

Joseph crawled onto his knees next to his beloved Segway. He gingerly touched the machine and tried to set it upright, but it would only stay upright for a moment before losing its balance and falling on its side. Michael looked away and shook his head as redness crept into his father’s eyes. He continued up the stairs and into his room.

1:18 pm. Tuesday, June 10. Torbin Estate.

John opened the door to the dining room. Sharon entered the room first, followed by Joseph. The two of them were staring at the dining table. More specifically, they were examining the placement of the dishes. The table was set so that they would have to sit side by side. Rosa was putting the finish touches on the dishes. She turned towards Joseph and Sharon.

“Bon appetit,” she said. She walked out of the room into the kitchen. John followed her.

“Rosa, what are you trying to do? Get them to break more of their fine china?” asked John.

“If they break anything, that’s Michael’s fault,” said Rosa. “He insisted that I get them together at the dining table at 1:20. He even told me how to set the table.”

“Why? What is he up to?”

“I don’t know,” said Rosa as she began cleaning up the kitchen. “He wants you to wait outside on the driveway at 1:30.”

“Why?”

“There’s twenty five other letters in the alphabet John.”

“Fine. I’ll be outside then.” John straightened his coat and left the kitchen.

Joseph and Sharon were still standing in the dining room, neither one eager to sit down. “Well? Take your plate and go watch TV,” said Sharon.

“That’s just what you want me to do isn’t it? Let you sit here in my dining room and eat my food all alone?” retorted Joseph.

“Oh please. YOUR food? YOUR dining room? Without me you wouldn’t even HAVE this dining room and this food.”

“Neither. Would. You.”

“Oh please. I might even have MORE money if you weren’t around.”

“HA! I’m sure you would have turned that forty thousand a year into the millions we have now real quick!”

“SCRE-“ The doors to the dining room slapped shut loudly. Joseph and Sharon stopped yelling and looked over at Michael.

He was holding a silver briefcase and wearing a suit. “Please sit down,” he said politely.

“What is this about?” asked Sharon.

Michael motioned at the chairs. “Please. For just a few moments.”

“I don’t have time for this,” said Sharon. She turned around and began walking away.

“It’s worth your while to stay,” said Michael. Sharon stopped and turned her head slightly towards him. “Sit down, both of you.”

Joseph yanked the chair out and sat down. Sharon drew hers out with a little more control before sitting. Michael walked around the table until he was directly across from the both of them. He placed the silver case on the table carefully. “I think it can be said that I do not have a healthy relationship with either of you.” Sharon and Joseph were silent. “It can also be said that no one here wants a healthy relationship with either of the other people in the room.”

“That’s not true,” said Joseph.

Michael glared at Joseph. “Yes it is. You two can’t even stand each other enough to have one meal a week together.”

“How do you know that?” asked Sharon.

Michael ignored her. “You two are together for…some reason. I don’t know what it is. I don’t think you know either.” He glanced down at the suitcase in his hand. “But that’s not precisely why I called this little meeting.”

“Why did you call it then?” asked Sharon.

“As long as I’ve known you mother, the most important thing to you has been to always get your money’s worth. When it came to investments, you always picked a winner. From the house, the cars, even the people you employ, you always made the most frugal, cost-effective decisions. In fact, that business acumen even trickled down to me. Or, rather, the way you raised me.”

“What are you getting at?” asked Sharon.

“You apparently saw me on television with a ‘little slut’ hanging off my arm, to use your words. Is that correct?” asked Michael calmly. Sharon nodded. “And of course you did see me in the tabloid with-“ Michael stopped himself. “A very nice sui-“ He stopped himself again. “You saw my picture in the paper and then you asked me why I was there.”

“Yes, and you said you would answer my questions,” said Sharon.

“I was in the paper because the person I was with is sometimes targeted by the paparazzi. As for the television event, that was because one of my employees was able to get me in.”

“Your employees?” asked Sharon. “Why the hell would your company allow you to have subordinates? Who do you work for?”

“I never said I worked for a company. My new employer, mother, is myself.”

“What?” asked Sharon. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I work for myself. I thought that was obvious.” Michael placed the case carefully on the table. “Like most businesses I’ve been running in the red for a long time, twenty one years to be exact. But the time has come to get back in black and repay my investors. I asked you to be here so that I could present you with your return. And buy you out.”

“What did we invest in?” said Joseph.

“Me,” replied Michael simply. He opened the briefcase and spun it around. Contained inside were neat stacks of crisp one hundred dollar bills. “In total, this is-“

“A hundred forty thousand dollars,” interrupted Sharon, eyes scrutinizing the contents of the case.

“Very good,” said Michael. “One hundred forty thousand dollars.”

“You cost more than that Michael,” said Sharon.

“Let’s be honest mother. I never kept a paycheck. From middle school to high school, every dime went to you. As for college, we both know how much money you’re spending on that.”

“I don’t know,” piped in Joseph.

“Not nearly enough to think that cutting me off is a threat father. Those pieces of paper mounted on the wall of my little room that say ‘scholarship’ are surprisingly valuable,” said Michael. “Nevertheless, I think this amount is a fair and accurate assessment of the value of the last twenty one years. Would you agree?”

Sharon was shocked. She had never met a business proposition this unsettling before. But her recovery was quick. “I would.”

Michael did not smile. “Good.”

“How did you get this money?” Sharon knew quite well that all the cash in the house did not amount to $140,000 and that Michael did not have access to either her or Joseph’s accounts.

“My new job, mother,” said Michael sardonically. “If you want to know what it is, keep your ears and eyes open. You’ll find out in a few months.”

“This is what you want?” asked Sharon.

“This is whatwe want.” He shut the briefcase and reached inside his coat pocket. “One last thing before our business is concluded.” Michael tossed an envelope on top of the case. “That’s for you Mr. Torbin.”

The doors to dining room swung open. John was standing with his hands behind his back. “Michael, your, ahem, package has arrived.”

“Excellent. Sharon, Joseph, I thank you for your time.” Michael spun on his heel and left the room. John turned his head to watch him leave.

Joseph reached across the table and picked up the envelope. He opened it and flipped through the bills inside. “This looks like the five thousand he borrowed before he left.”

Sharon pulled the case over and opened it. She picked up a stack and dragged her thumb across the short end, listening to the flap of the bills. “Did he just call us by our first names?”

The envelope of money landed inside the case, surprising Sharon. Joseph got up and walked after Michael. In the foyer Michael had a cardboard box on his shoulder and was dragging a large, dirty duffel bag behind him. The front door was open.

“Michael, where are you going?” asked Joseph.

“Chicago.”

“How?”

“In my car.” Michael squeezed past the front door and down the front steps. Joseph walked forward and looked out. A truck was moving down the lengthy driveway. He saw Michael toss his duffel bag and box into the trunk of a shimmering yellow Mustang.