‘Bout an average morning with you.”
“You know, Jen. People often ask me how we really get along. Usually, I just say something dumb.”
“Really, AJ? Not you.”
AJ laughed into the mike. “But the fact of the matter is that Jen has been my best friend for the last fifteen years.”
Jen smiled because Adam was always the one to say something wonderful. And right now, she really needed to hear it. “Recently,” she said, “someone asked, not for the first time, if we were a couple. My answer is why would we ruin our friendship?”
“Not that it hasn’t crossed my mind. I’ve certainly thought about it.”
“Really, Adam—AJ. That’s so sweet.”
“It sent shivers down my spine, but I’ve thought about it.”
She laughed. “Gee, thanks, AJ.”
“Hearing that raspy laugh is the best part of my day,” Adam said into his mike, but peering over at Kevin to gauge his reaction. Kevin was leaning against the wall and didn’t seem to be paying attention. “Nothing can change that.” Adam reached behind him and pulled a CD. “Let’s play a song not on the playlist. Here’s Green Day with Time of Your Life.”
Jenny and Adam took their headphones off. “After doing that with a gun to my head,” she said, “I guess I can’t call in with PMS anymore.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Kevin said, now just behind her. He didn’t have the gun pointed, but his voice burned her like a flamethrower.
“Hey, Buddy. She was just making jokes in a tense situation. We both do that.”
“You know, why did you really pick us anyway?” Jen got the indignant tone she was going for, but could not catch her breath. “There are plenty of other morning shows you can terrorize.”
“You really don’t know, do you?” He looked at Jenny who could only look at him with her mouth open. “Well, part of the reason, I already told you. Because I like your show.”
“Lucky us,” Adam said.
“Another part of the reason is that I will get the most news coverage. Those other shows, you’d have to expect trouble. I’m not a prude. I read Mad Magazine growing up. But morning radio is disgusting. They use the a-word and the b-word all the time. When they’re not talking about every part of a woman’s anatomy. Then all that laughing at things that are not funny.”
“Kevin,” Adam began. He wanted to do something to make Jenny less afraid. But his own fear made him hesitate. He glanced at the console to see that the song was about to end and then moved the mike back to his mouth. “Good Morning, people. It’s the AJ & Jen show.” Without wanting to, he left a short stretch of dead air. “Off-air, Jen and I’ve been talking this morning to our good friend, Kevin. Kevin, would you mind throwing on those headphones and talking into that mike right here and share with the audience what you were just talking about?”
“About what I’m doing here? Because you told me I can’t—”
“Maybe later. There’s a teaser, listeners. Stay tuned and find out what our friend Kevin is planning on doing or hopefully will decide not to do. But we will keep that a secret for now.”
Kevin responded, “Ah…”
Jenny stepped in now. “Yes, Kevin was giving us the state of radio nowadays.”
“It’s not just radio.” Kevin had been too far away from the mike and then moved too close. Jen leaned over and adjusted it to the right distance. Kevin touched the microphone in front of him, but didn’t dare move it. “And it’s not all radio. Generally, I liked your show. Adam didn’t talk in a sexist way to you. And you didn’t act like he was dumb just because he was a man.”
Adam said, “I don’t think I like you talking about us in the past tense like that.”
Kevin pursed his lips and stared at Adam blankly.
“What else, Kevin?” Jenny said to cover the dead air.
The gun trembled in Kevin’s hand. “I thought you guys were different. I’ve been listening for a long time and it was pretty clear you were a couple. You were always talking about how long you guys have known each other and making jokes about spending all your time together. I...I thought you were sharing while still being private.
“It was refreshing, you know. Nowadays, everyone has a relationship played out for the public on those reality shows. I don’t want to see relationships that are played up on camera and plotted out to hook the audience. It’s pathetic. Whether it’s their real life or that they’re putting on a skit, it still just seems sad. More pathetic are the people that love it and pay more attention to those talentless, attention-addicted celebrities than to real people in their lives.
“I worry about my daughter having grown up in this mess. She says the stuff she heard in church doesn’t ring true to her so she doesn’t go. I am worried that she won’t go to heaven and that somehow I failed her. And the thing is, I no longer believe in what goes on in church either. It just seems like a desperate need to hold on to the past. But I go and I give them the money they demand of me. I believe in sacrifice. I believe in going because it is the least I can do for all that God has given us. It’s important to be counted righteous.
“It used to be that people worked hard and wanted to give to others. It was before my time even, but from farmers to car dealers, people did things without looking for a reward. Nowadays, people are all about positioning and looking good. Why work hard when you can kiss up to the boss? Why be polite when the store down the street has cashiers just as rude? I just want something real and good.
“I just want something real,” he said again, his voice straining. He put the gun up and cocked it. “I asked you out to give you something real, Jenny. That’s what I thought I could get from you. Instead I got lies.”
Jenny had been staring at Adam trying to figure out why they were feeding into the madman, but the cock of the gun shot her up straight in her chair. Then her face flushed. “Me? You don’t even know me.”
Kevin gave her a pained smile. “You really don’t remember. I thought you were pretending.”
“Sorry?” She was not apologizing for whatever offense she was making and she didn’t want to. It was her way of saying, ‘come again?’ But if he wanted to take it as an apology, if it would save her life, then let him.
“Please don’t do this.” Kevin swallowed. “We were in group therapy together. Until you dropped out.”
There was silence. Then Adam said, “I think you’re mistaken. If she had been in therapy, I would know.”
Kevin folded his arms the best he could with the gun in his hand and sat on the edge of a table. Jenny looked away. Not to the console or Mark or the door. Just to a blank wall. Kevin leaned down towards her. “So your best friend doesn’t know that you had to take anger management classes. Maybe you can’t treat anyone with respect.”
“Stop it,” Adam told him. “You can’t see that you’re wrong because you’re crazy.”
“I had to take those classes,” Jenny finally said, working hard not to speak through clenched teeth. “Of course, now, thanks to you, everyone in the city will know, but I was ashamed. It was the only way I could get any visitation with my daughter. I was getting a divorce and fighting for my daughter, so sorry if I don’t remember you or if I was rude to you.”
“You lied to me. You told me you were in a relationship with Adam. I’m no looker. But why not even give me the consideration of being honest and not telling a lie that I would find out was a lie. Why spurn me like that?” He cocked the gun. The sound made Jenny reach for Adam’s hand. His was reaching for hers.
Kevin put the gun in front of his face. Stared at it. “That thing I was going to have you two do.” His face was still near his mike and the audience could hear how his voice was faltering. “I’ll just do it myself. It will be better for everyone.”
He brought the gun to his temple.
“Kevin,” Jen yelled, the mike picking up her voice, but making her sound far away. “Wait.”
Jenny knew that her Adam was actually shy and coul
d only be outgoing and bold through his radio persona of AJ. She swung Adam’s boom arm over to him so AJ could say something and stop him.
“What’s your daughter’s name, Kevin?” AJ asked.
“Lindsey. She’s a freshman at the university.”
“She goes to the UW? You must be very proud of her.”
He looked at Adam and then Jenny; his eyes rimmed with red, and he lowered the gun. “I am, Adam. But she can’t be very proud of me. How do you make up for a lifetime of not being there?”
Jenny and Adam kept their mouths to the microphones, but didn’t say anything
“Exactly,” Kevin replied to their silence.
“Who’s there for you?” Adam asked.
“My daughter. God. That should be enough.”
“Should be,” Jenny said with a set jaw. She was sure Adam was on his way to getting through to this guy. But Kevin’s word showed her how Kevin had tried to move past bitterness and resentment and that it made him, despite the gun and the failure and the anger, better than most. Better than herself. “But it’s not,” she said. “Your daughter’s there for you. I know she is. But it’s not the same because she depends on you. As for God—”
“Who else was there for you?” Adam interrupted.
The gun trembling in his hand was his answer.
“We were. Jen and I. That’s why you felt betrayed that we are not a couple.” Adam scoffed. “You know we didn’t go into this for the money. We did it to connect with people. Develop a relationship. Not