Rift by Richard Cox Read Free Book Online Page B

change?”
    â€œYou certainly seem fine to me,” she says. “But I don’t have anything from the nurse in Houston yet. We’ll be comparing results later. Now, if you’ll just go across there and provide the urine sample, we’ll be finished.”
    The crowd parts for me as I head out the door.
    â€œI hope you saved some,” King says.
    â€œOf course.”
    I complete my assignment in the bathroom and then rejoin the others. The hospital gown doesn’t feel so awkward now that the exams are almost over. My hands are quiet as I dress, not shaking the way they did in Houston.
    When I emerge from the changing room, King is looking at me expectantly. He opens his mouth to speak, and for an instant it occurs to me that they have found something wrong, that the test results from Houston have come in and they need to examine me further. An instant, and then I banish the thought, unwilling to give in to the unforgiving fear that has colored me for longer than I can remember.
    â€œYou have a telephone call, Mr. Fisher. From Houston.”
    King leads me into a large, executive-style office with cherry furniture and walls adorned with large, framed paintings of famous golf holes from Pebble Beach and Augusta National. He pushes a button on the telephone and offers the handset to me.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œOh, Cameron. Thank God you’re there.”
    â€œHi, baby. Yeah, I guess I made it over in one piece. I told you it would be okay.”
    â€œI was so worried, Cameron. I kept thinking that someone there would call and . . . and . . .”
    She begins to cry softly, and her tears turn my own eyes wet.
    â€œI’m just so glad you’re all right,” she says.
    We talk for a little while about the transmission, and I explain everything to her. She apologizes for being so difficult on the way to the station, and I express regret for being so one-minded.
    â€œBe careful out there,” she says.
    â€œI will.”
    â€œI guess I need to hand the phone over to your boss. He wants to talk to you, also.”
    â€œOh.” I didn’t realize she was still at the station.
    â€œI’ll see you the day after tomorrow,” she says. “I love you, Cameron.”
    â€œI love you, too, Misty.”
    A second passes as she hands over the telephone, and then Batista bursts onto the line.
    â€œCameron!” he says. “I take it you’re happy with the results of this test. All you have left is the return trip and you’ll be a rich man.”
    â€œJust like we agreed already.”
    â€œOf course,” Batista tells me. “You’re such a literal man, do you know that, Cameron? You’ll be on your own the day after tomorrow, of course, but could I give you one more piece of advice as you begin your new life?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œYou could stand to lighten up. Life’s too short to take everything so seriously.”
    â€œThanks, Rodrigo,” I answer. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
    King takes the telephone handset from me, replaces it in its cradle, and then escorts me toward the lobby. Mr. Lloyd is waiting near the doorway, and just to his right stands the man I came here to see in the first place.
    My good friend, Tom Bishop.
    I see him just before he sees me, and the tension on his face tells me just how worried he was about this test. But all anxiety seems to melt away when I smile and march into the lobby where he stands.
    â€œTom!”
    â€œCam,” he says. We hug briefly, and during the embrace I feel his chest heaving, hear rapid breaths against my ear. “You made it. Holy shit, you made it.”
    â€œWhat did you think I was going to do?”
    â€œThis test, man. God, I was worried about you.”
    â€œI told you everything would be fine.”
    â€œI know you did,” he says. “But still . . . Jesus. It’s good to see you.”
    I try to play off his concern,