FanStory.com - What We See - Chapter 32by Jim Wile

Chapter 32

Early March, 1987

The following evening, a Friday, I called Trent Lyons at home. After exchanging a few pleasantries, I said, “So, Trent, perhaps your niece, Abby, has told you that she and I have been corresponding about an invention I’m creating. She’s been a great help to me and is just a wonderful person. She reminds me a lot of your daughter, Callie, too.”

“Thanks very much, Alan. Both of them are quite special; I agree.”

“This invention is very near the point where I plan to seek a patent. I’ve been doing some research about the patenting process. It’s rather complex, and I think I need some legal help with it. I don’t know if I need a utility or a design patent or whether to start with a provisional or a full patent. Is this a field you are familiar with and could maybe help me with if I were to hire you?”

“This is one of several of the law’s most specialized areas—maritime law being another one. Practitioners of patent and infringement law usually have to enroll in the specialty and become certified in it. I wouldn’t take it on myself, but I could refer you to an excellent patent lawyer who I’m quite familiar with.”

“Well, that would be great.”

“Let me see, I think I’ve got his number… here.”

He gave me the number then for Harold Carmody, who practiced in Fort Wayne. I thanked him very much for his help, and we said goodbye.

On Monday morning, Warren came in at 10:00, which was an hour late. He looked a little more disheveled than usual. “Sorry I’m late, Alan. I had a rough night and didn’t get to sleep until 3:00 AM. I can make up the time this afternoon if you’d like.”

“That would be fine.” He didn’t look so good. “Is everything okay with you, Warren?”

“Things could be better. I’ve had a tough run of luck at the card table lately. But I won’t let this happen again—being late, that is. So, what’s in store for today?”

“I don’t mean to pry, but are you in financial trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle. Sure would be nice to start winning again, though.”

“Alright. I’ve got a couple work orders written up. There should be a UPS delivery this afternoon with some parts we’ve been waiting on. I’ve got notes to that effect on the computer. Why don’t you take a look at the new work orders for now, but give priority this afternoon to the jobs needing the parts that are coming.”

“Sounds good.”

He was familiar with the work order software on the computer and got to work looking up the new jobs.

At work on Thursday morning, I got a call from Warren at 9:00.

“Look, Alan, I’m sorry, but I won’t be in right away. I had a little accident and slipped while getting out of the shower this morning and hit my head against the vanity. I managed to blacken my eye, and I’ve got a bit of a headache now.”

“Jeez, Warren. Sorry to hear that. Maybe you should go to the emergency room and get yourself checked out for a possible concussion.”

“Yeah, I think I'll do that. If everything checks out okay, I’ll make up the hours tonight, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, that would be fine, but only if they give you the okay to do that. Concussions can be dangerous, so listen to what they tell you to do."

“Got it. See you later, hopefully.”

“Alright. Take care of yourself.”

He’d seemed distracted all week, and he’d made a few mistakes in his work, which wasn’t like him at all. He was normally a jolly fellow with me and very reliable, but he was off his game, and something was eating at him. I wondered if he’d been lying about his financial situation and maybe was in the hole for a lot of money.

He came in at 1:00, and he definitely had a black eye, but otherwise he seemed okay. He said he'd been to the emergency room, but they found no signs of a concussion.

We worked for the rest of the afternoon, and at 5:30, I said, “It’s quitting time. Why don’t you forget about making up those hours right now, and you can do it next week? You should probably take it easy.”

“I’m really okay, Alan. I’d just as soon keep going and put in a full day. I’ll go get something to eat, but I’d like to put in the full eight hours today if you don’t mind.”

“Alright. Don’t kill yourself. If it gets to be too much, just leave. You gotta take care of yourself.”

“I will. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine. I’d like to get this amplifier put back together since those parts came in today, so we can call the customer tomorrow. It’s already been a couple days longer than we’d promised, and I think he needs it for this weekend when his band has a gig.”

“Okay. Just lock up and turn the lights off when you leave. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Perhaps I should have been, but I wasn’t particularly worried about leaving Warren alone there tonight. I had already taken some precautions and installed my camcorder in a well-hidden spot and turned it on before I left. If he were to try something, I would have it on videotape. Also, my filing cabinet had a lock on it, and I kept it locked up. And, my computer required a password to get into it, and nobody but Ginnie and I knew what it was. Finally, I would come over here at 8:00 to check things out under the pretense of getting something from my old upstairs bedroom.

Following dinner tonight, I spent some time with Tommy fine-tuning the glasses. He was using them regularly now to do his homework. This was actually the second pair I made, which used the CMOS camera. The original pair, which I kept locked up in the filing cabinet in my workroom, had the CCD camera in them. Although the camera hadn’t been as good as the CMOS camera, the speaker I’d made was a little better. This new one had a few distortion problems I hadn’t quite figured out yet, but with Tommy’s help, we were able to tweak it to remove some of the distortion. It still needed work, but the distortion was at least 50% better now.

He was writing an essay about Animal Farm, a book by George Orwell. He had read it using the glasses to help him for the first three-quarters of it, but we insisted that he read the last quarter on his own. At first, he complained about not being able to read the whole thing with the glasses, but we told him we wanted to make sure he didn’t become totally dependent on them but instead would use them to help him improve his reading. I told him it was important to read along as the voice read to him so that he would associate the written words with the sound of them and not to just zone out and listen. This seemed to be helping too, because he said he had an easier time reading the last quarter than he ever used to. We had him explain the story to us, and his comprehension was excellent. We were all very encouraged.

At 8:00, I excused myself to go next door and told him I’d be back shortly. When I got there, the door was locked, and the lights were off. Hmm, I thought Warren would still be here. I guess he must have left early, maybe because he wasn’t feeling so well after all. I went in anyway, just to check around. When I unlocked the front door and went inside, I had the immediate feeling that something was off. I wasn’t sure what it was, but something wasn’t right. Then I realized what it was. The computer fan was quiet. I usually left the machine on and only occasionally turned it off at night. After turning on the lights, I went to the computer, and my heart dropped. The monitor had been set aside, and the computer case had been opened up. I looked inside, and the hard drive was missing. Oh, shit!

I immediately went over to the filing cabinet and saw that one drawer was partially open. I studied the locking mechanism and could see that it had been jimmied. The files had been rifled through, and most of what pertained to the glasses that I’d kept well-disguised in the bottom drawer was now gone. And worst of all, the original pair of glasses, which I had kept hidden inside an old electric pencil sharpener box, were gone too.

Warren had known exactly what to steal—if it was him. Then again, maybe someone else had come in and taken the stuff after Warren had left. But the place hadn’t been broken into unless the front door lock had been picked. I had a sinking feeling that wasn’t it, so I decided to call his home to see if he was there. I did, but there was no answer.

Well, there was one sure way to find out whether or not it was him. Fortunately, he hadn’t discovered my hidden camcorder, which I pulled from its hiding place. I left everything else as it had been because I would be calling the police. Then I turned the lights off, locked up, and headed home, where I would look at the tape on the camcorder. I hated to say it, but I think all of our suspicions about Warren were probably accurate. I’ll know soon enough. Goddammit all. What a friggin’ disaster!