It's About Time

Ramon Gonzalez stood with his hands in the pockets of his grey flannel slacks studying the collage of clock workings that hung on his office wall. A brass plaque on the bottom of the polished dark wood frame identified the piece as “The Gears of Time”. How Ramon wished he could have put those gears in motion to save his wife, but the company’s policy was very strict. There was absolutely no use of equipment or facilities for personal benefit. He’d always believed it was a good policy … until now. Ramon sighed … he’d done a lot of that lately … and walked slowly across the room. The sorrow in his eyes and the sad stoop of his shoulders added to his 40 years. Suddenly a sharp pain flashed in his chest, settled there for a moment, then was gone. He could imagine Anita scolding that he hadn’t been paying enough attention to his health since she’d been gone: not eating right, not exercising, not sleeping well. “It’s not time for you to join me yet, my love,” he thought he heard her whisper. He made a silent pledge to her that he would do his best to get back on track. The brown leather chair behind his vintage mahogany desk creaked as he settled himself into it. The rest of the facility was sleek and shiny, all metal and glass and polished new wood, but Ramon felt most comfortable with this desk that had been his fathers before him. A stack of manila file folders his assistant had given him the day before still sat untouched on its corner. He slid the pile over in front of him. Ramon wasn’t used to being here on Saturday since the offices were closed on the weekends, but ever since his wife had died in a car accident three months before, it had become more and more uncomfortable for him to stay alone in their empty house, so he’d been spending Saturdays at his desk. He was alone here too, but at least not every piece of furniture and picture on the wall reminded him of Anita. He opened the top folder on the stack of files. Each folder contained a news clipping and notes on the date, city, and news service it came from. The headline on the clipping in this first file read, “History Arsonist Strikes Again”. Why did the media insist on giving these people names? It just fueled the publicity, which was part of what they were after in the first place. There was nothing the company could do until the police discovered who the arsonist was, but this was the third time in three months that a building in historic Savannah, Georgia, had been struck by fire. It was time to put a stop to what was obviously a serial arsonist. Ramon scribbled a note to have a tracker follow this case forward, stuck it in the file, and set the folder aside. He had just opened the second folder when a chime sounded.