Backtracker by Robert T. Jeschonek Page A

odd, unnatural, as if the premature lightening had been triggered by some terrible, secret experience in Mr. Wyland ' s past.
    " Who can you get to cover for me ? " asked Dave, wondering what was so urgent that Mr. Wyland couldn ' t wait to tell him about it. " Everybody ' s tied up, aren ' t they? "
    " I ' ll bring Mitch out of the dishroom, " said the manager, absentmindedly scratching his left earlobe. " You ' ve got things pretty well caught - up, don ' t you? "
    " Well, not really, " shrugged Dave. " I ' m kind ' a backed - up, actually. "
    " Hm, " said Mr. Wyland, glancing at the fry station. " I see. " For an instant, the boss looked around the cooking area, apparently considering whether it would be wise to substitute Mitch for Dave. Finally, he nodded decisively and returned his gaze to Dave. " I ' ll only be keeping you a minute or two, " he declared. " How about if you go tell Mitch to come out, and then meet me in the office? "
    " All right, " said Dave. " I ' ll be in in a minute, Mr. Wyland. "
    " Um, good, " approved the boss. " Thanks. " With that, he turned his back to Dave and headed down the line, pausing only for a second to peep over Billy ' s shoulder at the broiler.
    Baffled by the mysterious summons, Dave grabbed a rag and quickly swabbed the greasy counter of the fry station. He wiped his hands, which were also greasy, and searched his mind for a clue to the reason for Mr. Wyland ' s impromptu meeting. It was certainly unusual for a manager to call an employee into the office during a hectic supper rush, when all able bodies were needed to handle the influx of customers.
    Pondering Wyland ' s strange invitation, Dave notified Billy of the situation, then went to the dishroom and told Mitch to take over as fry cook. When he finally entered the managers ' office, he still hadn ' t figured out what exactly Wyland might have to say to him.
    " Um, close the door, would you ? " said Mr. Wyland, his expression noncommittal.
    Frowning, Dave pulled the door shut. He remained standing in front of it, mainly because there was nowhere to sit; the office was tiny, little more than a closet, and Mr. Wyland had claimed the only chair.
    " Did you get Mitch to come out front ? " asked the manager, leaning back in the black swivel chair, folding his hands in his lap.
    " Uh - huh, " nodded Dave, sliding his hands into his pockets.
    " Good, " said Fred Wyland. " He ' s coming along pretty well, don ' t you think? "
    " Sure, " said Dave.
    " He just needs a few more hours at the fry station, " said the boss, and then he paused and looked down at his hands.
    " So what ' s up ? " asked Dave.
    Mr. Wyland hesitated, rocked his chair back a bit further. The swivel upon which the seat was mounted creaked softly. " Well, " said the manager, eyes still trained on his hands. " I, um, heard something, and I was hoping you could clarify it for me. "
    " What did you hear ? " asked Dave.
    " Um, well, " continued Wyland. " It ' s something that surprised me, and I wanted to hear your side of the story. "
    " So what is it ? " pressed Dave.
    " I, um, don ' t want you to think that I ' m out to get you, " declared the boss. " You ' re one of the best people we ' ve got. "
    " Thanks, " said Dave, still frowning, wishing that Wyland would get to the point.
    " It ' s just that, well, I can ' t ignore this. " Tilting the chair forward, Mr. Wyland lifted his gaze from his hands, looked directly at Dave. From the expression on his face, Dave could tell that the manager was as uncomfortable as he was.
    " What do you mean ? " Dave asked tensely.
    " I was just, um...wondering, " said Mr. Wyland. " Have you ever taken any chocolate milk out of the walk - in? "
    The question hit Dave like a wrecking ball. For an instant, he just froze; though he managed to maintain a poker face for the boss, he was absolutely flabbergasted.
    Had he heard correctly? Had Mr. Wyland actually asked him about the " black gold " ? How could he know? Better yet, what could