Running From Office

By Keith Curtis

Michael Martin lived quietly through his first 26 years. He had a quiet job as a paralegal in a South Boston law firm. He was not connected to either of his divorced parents in any special way and had few friends until one of the partners in the law firm took a special interest in him and his work.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Ambage House
• Release date: May 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533759924

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Michael Martin opened the big door into his father’s bar on Dorchester Street in south Boston. The Walk-Inn was cold, and he shivered away the chill and looked around to see which of his dad’s buddies were hiding out from their wives this evening. Counting his dad, who was no longer married to his mom, it looked like maybe nine or ten men had either been banished from the house for the evening or ate supper and headed for the solace of a darkly lit bar for a beer, some good old manly companionship and some time away from a nagging woman.

In his twenty-six years, Michael had always been amazed how few women showed up at the bar, and how few men brought their wives with them except on special days, birthdays, anniversaries and the like, and of course, St. Patrick’s day. This was a modern day man-cave, a place to be a guy, let off some steam, not be bothered by anything but whether or not you’ve had one too many and could still walk home or needed someone to call you a cab.

Your typical neighborhood bar in your typical south Boston neighborhood, surrounded by two-story brownstones, dirty on one side or the other from the previous winters’ snow pile up, a fenced yard and a gate that seldom worked. Working class all the way.

His father yelled out Mick, where have you been? Hell your mom called me the other day looking for you and Christ she doesn’t even call me if someone in the family dies. You okay?

Mick preferred Michael and the joke of his name was not lost on him. Mick the Mick was his grade school nickname and caused no end of fighting and teasing. He would never get Michael from anyone who’d known him more than 5 years.

Mick said, Hey Dad, remember, I told you I was going to visit my friend from college in Detroit, I drove out there and we went to a couple of ball games, watched the Celtics slap the Pistons around had a few laughs, a few drinks, you know, just a visit.

His father, Gordon, said, Oh yeah, you told me that, but I thought that was just a few days, shit you’ve been gone, what three, four weeks, I lose track of time.

Mick said, barely under his breath, That’s because you drink too much old man, and then said, Sorry, I may not have told you I was taking my whole vacation for the year from work to go out there.

Gordon said, Jesus Mick, what about the holidays kid, you know all the relatives from all over the country love to come out here. They want to go to New York to see the ball hit the ground and oh by the way, while they’re on the East Coast, they want to come to Boston and see your mom and since we were married so long, they still think of me as family so they’ve gotta come see me and then they’ve gotta see you because hell, you’re the only child and it just turns into a goddamn Chinese cluster fuck around here and you’re going to have no time off to help me put up with that shit? I’ll have to drink myself silly every night just to get some peace

Mick said, I’ll be around Dad, I’ll have some time off from work okay? Don’t worry about being left alone with the family. If they come, I’ll be here.

As it turned out, this year, they were staying home, but Gordon had not talked to his ex about it, so he didn’t know. Regardless, you had to worry about these things with an ex-wife who had a large family.

Mick and his father had always had a tenuous relationship. That Mick would take off for four weeks and not call was not odd, that he lived two miles away and might not stop by for a couple of months was also not odd. The old man had not been the finest father, had not led Mick into a better life, but had just let him do whatever he thought he needed to do.

Mick went to Bunker Hill Community College, got a Paralegal Certificate and finished up his internship at a local law practice, Founder and Ahmed. They liked his work well enough to hire him permanently.

He borrowed the money to go to college, was paying it back and his father had not been involved in that process except to say, ‘Jesus H Christ Mick, ain’t that what them dyke women do for a living?’

When he explained what he did, his father still thought it was a job for dyke women but it paid well, gave him plenty of time to be alone with his thoughts, which was an important thing for Mick and gave him a chance to learn the law.

Neither Founder nor Ahmed actually existed. The twelve lawyers who made up the firm were all out one night and decided that they wanted to have a special firm name, and one of the top lawyers came up with F&A, which quickly became ‘effin–A’ and the names were not far behind. Ahmed gave them some pull in the small, but growing Muslim community and they had one Muslim lawyer. The firm was not a specialty firm; they took cases that made sense on any topic, from injuries to murders to drug busts to civil suits to insurance fraud.

There were twelve partners and Mick was the paralegal for three, which kept him running from one part of the law library to another at just about any time day or night and this he enjoyed, because it was quiet time, time for reflection, for stress reduction, for looking inward. That was his coping skill for almost every negative thing that he ran into, looking inward. Taking time to consider the things he’d done wrong in is life and how he could atone for them.

This was Mick’s idea of utopia, and the bar was only where he went to say hello to his father. He felt he owed this to his father somehow, at least to say hello, if nothing else.

Mick was about to say his goodbyes for the evening when one of the patron saints of the Walk-Inn, Richard O’Connell, said, Hey Mick, let me stand you to a beer son, you look tired, your old man sure as hell won’t give you one, he still has the first dollar he ever made.

The patrons all got a good laugh at Gordon’s expense, though there was a bit of truth in the comment.

Mick said, Thanks Richard, I think I’ll pass, I am tired, and I really need to get some sleep this weekend. Monday’s going to be a long day catching up.

Richard said, Suit yourself kid, offer’s always there. Glad you’re back though, you’re dad is right, your mom called three times while I was here. Give her call this weekend son, let her know you’re okay would ya?

Mick nodded his agreement to do so. Talking to his mother was getting harder and harder as the weeks went on. He was afraid she might sense a change. He knew his father and his cronies would never see it, but his mother was another story. Calling her was acceptable he thought, but, he would check with his friends first to be sure.

He left the bar to goodbyes all around and headed for his apartment, walking briskly to ward off the chill that meant winter was still there, but spring was rising, both in Mick’s blood and in