2 Bad News Spreads Fas (1/2)

He was sitting at his desk, marking finals when the phone rang. He was content to leave it alone but it just kept ringing. Fighting the temptation to toss the phone at the wall to end its constant nagging, the professor drained what scotch was left in his glass and then picked up the receiver.

”Malcolm Jackson,” he said with sharp tone, ”Who the hell is this?”

”Mal, it's Kim.” The voice on other end replied.

”Kim?” Malcolm said as he put down the final he was marking. ”How long has it been? A year? Two?”

”Too long,” Kim said as she didn't sound very happy.

Malcolm could tell there was something wrong by the tone of her voice. It was clear to him she wasn't calling with good news. ”Kim, what's going on?”

”It's Dad.” She replied.

Malcolm could feel a shiver run up his spine as she said the words. Despite the fact the he didn't get along with his old man, this wasn't the call any man wanted to get this time of year. Yet the old man was running into his mid-eighties, it was inevitable. ”When did it happen?”

”They found him yesterday,” Kim said as she sobbed uncontrollably. ”They said it was a heart attack and that no one found him until a few days later.”

”Shit.” Malcolm said as he sat back and started to scratch his four day old beard. ”Have you talked to David and Dick?”

”Not yet,” Kim replied.

”I'll do it.” Malcolm said as he could tell Kim was already broken up about it. Hearing hear cry on the phone was annoying enough, he wasn't going to make his brothers put up with it as well.

”Thanks, Mal.” Kim said as she sniffled a bit.

”And don't worry about the funeral.” Malcolm told her, ”I'm sure Dad was insured and even if he wasn't we all have more than enough to cover it.”

”Thank you,” Kim said again. They talked for a few more minutes and then Malcolm eventually let her go.

He sat there in the middle of his empty office and thought about what just happened. He felt like a gladiator that was just told his mortal enemy was gone. He was like Batman without his Joker, lost and with a feeling of being incomplete.

Malcolm poured himself another drink, and took down at least half of it before fishing his cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed one of the few numbers in his contacts list and waited for a few rings.

”Hello?” the other side answered.

”Dick, it's Malcolm.”

”What's up, Mal?”

”Haven't talked to you in a while, nice season in Cali.”

”Thanks bro.”

”You were totally hosed,” Malcolm continued, ”You should have been the MVP.”