The Retriever - By Jared L. Cantin - Chapter 1 (page 1-2)

The Retriever
By
Jared L. Cantin

I - Regret

“I don’t like mornings much. Come to think of it, I don’t like much…much.” Jagger said, his deep voice bellowing throughout the quaintly decorated office. His sweaty palms slid along the taught leather as he sat erectly upon the chaise. A loud squeak escaped his hands as they fought against the grip of the leather.
“Mr. Jagger, the far more pressing concern however, is why don’t you like mornings?” A man in a puffy white sweater-vest asked; he spun a pen in his hand, forefinger to thumb, over and over, and then back again, reversing direction.
Jagger reached his right arm across his body, rubbing his left shoulder.
“Pain, I ache.” The short-sleeved tee shirt Jagger was wearing rode up his arm as he reached across, exposing several small scars and a bulging bicep.
“I see. How has it been, getting to work in the morning I mean? Are you having problems with the work…?” The man in the sweater paused, “…physically?” He already knew from his reports that Jagger was having other problems at work, but he was only directing this question at whether he was having any physical issues.
“Not really. It doesn’t matter anyway. I have to work, or they’ll put me back.” Jagger looked down at his hands, and continued rubbing them across the leather, increasing his pace, his hands warmed with the friction.
“Just like I have to come here. It’s not my decision.” His voice was rough, matching his appearance like flannel to a farmer.
“And why do you think that you have to come here?” The man in the sweater’s voice elevated at the first you in the sentence, trying to emphasize that he was interested in what Jagger thought, not what the cops, or the judge, or even he, had informed Jagger.
“Some fucking suit sitting behind a polished mahogany desk thinks I’m crazy.” Jagger replied bluntly.
“And what do you think?” The man in the sweater let the question escape feebly, he was sweating slightly now, and he periodically glanced towards his impressive mahogany desk, and then back at the doorway behind him. Jagger caught onto this, and knew immediately that the Doctor was getting nervous, so he toned it down a notch.