Different Circles

“Yes, most definitely,” Pauline said. “I plan to thoroughly debunk this story by using as many facts as I can dig up. I’ve already called the FBO services at Sandpoint Airport and they have assured me they have no employee by the name of Jose, now or ever. I have called the Idaho State Police, the Sandpoint PD, and the Bonner County Sheriff’s department and they have all verified that they have not taken a report of any kind that involves you or Laura or a possibly abducted Venezuelan citizen. These are all verified facts. Now that you have told me the source of the photograph, I will call the Pocatello Airport’s FBO and try to get in contact with the man in the photo. It would be helpful if you could remember his name.”

Jake searched his memory banks but just could not come up with the ramper’s name. Though he remembered every other detail about the guy, that critical piece of information eluded him. This was undoubtedly due to the way his brain was wired regarding casual acquaintances like rampers, autograph seekers, wait staff, and groupies. There was simply no need to move such people’s names into long term memory. “I’m sorry,” he told his sister. “I just can’t remember it. Maybe Laura can.”

“That’s a thought,” Pauline said. “She stayed home today?”

“She was still asleep when Elsa and I left,” Jake confirmed. “She’s probably up now. I’ll give her a call. She needs to know that this shit is going down anyway.”

“Do you want me to forward a copy of the email to her?” Pauline asked.

“Yeah, good idea,” Jake said.

He turned the phone toward him and then dialed the main number for the Oceano house. Laura picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, babe,” he told her. “We got some shit going down that you need to know about.”

A sigh. “What now?” she asked.

He told her the tale. She expressed disbelief that anyone was dumb enough to actually believe such a ridiculous accusation but otherwise did not seem to be all that upset. She was more interested in how his conversation with Elsa had gone.

“She is thrilled for us,” Jake told her.

“That’s wonderful!” Laura said happily.

“It is, isn’t it?” he said. “Anyway, I was hoping you might remember the name of that ramper. Pauline needs to get hold of him and find out how his picture got into circulation.”

“You don’t think that he is the one that started this, do you?” she asked. “He seemed so ... you know ... nice.”

“We don’t know,” Jake said. “It doesn’t seem logical that he would make himself out to be a young tranny from Venezuela, but maybe he can shed some light on how the picture got out into the world. Paulie can probably find him without his name—after all, it’s not a very big FBO they have in Pocatello—but if you can remember...”

“I remember,” she said. “His name was Ron. The other ramper was named Dallas.”

As soon as she said the names, Jake remembered and knew she was correct. Apparently, they were stored somewhere deep inside but were just not easy to access. “That’s right,” he said. “Thanks, hon. Paulie is sending a copy of the email to your inbox so you can take a look at it.”

“It’s already there,” Pauline said from her keyboard.

“I’ll look at it right now,” she said.

“And I’ll keep you informed on developments as they warrant,” he promised.

“Right,” she said.

They said their I-love-you’s and broke the connection. Jake told Pauline the name of the ramper and his companion.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll start working on this right now.”

“Sounds good,” Jake said with a sigh. “And I suppose I should go get some actual work done.”

She nodded. “I’ll keep you updated,” she promised.

Jake walked to the studio and let himself inside. For the next two hours he immersed himself in the making and criticism of V-tach’s music. Thoughts of the ridiculous email were driven far to the back of his mind. After all, it was a perfectly ludicrous story that they were able to factually refute. He was sure that nothing would ultimately come of it.

As it turned out, he was only half right.