When the smell of freshly made coffee filled Gary's hotel room, he felt an uncontrollable urge to run for the bathroom. Chuck just cast him an understanding look.  
When Gary exited the bathroom again he looked a shade paler than before.  
    "Gar, you got any tomato juice?"  
    "You wanna drink tomato juice and coffee?!"  
    "No, of course not. An old trick my uncle once told me. Mix a glass of tomato juice with two tablespoons of vinegar. Cures the worst hangovers."  
    "Come on, Chuck, spare me your uncle's advice." There we go again. Chuck's useful advice, he thought. "Why are you back so early, anyway? Weren't you supposed to stay in New York until day after tomorrow?"  
    "Yeah, I was. But the company pulled out of the deal, so we gotta go back early. But first you tell me what or who earned you this hangover. This doesn't seem like the Gary I used to know. You haven't had a hangover since you left high-school!"  
    "It 's all Marissa's fault."  
    "Marissa? Are you sure?"  
    "Well, maybe it was the cat's fault, or the paper's. Or even mine. I don't know."  
Chucks questioning look spoke for itself, so Gary told him the whole story.  
    "And you say, you haven't seen a single paper since, except for this one?" Chuck lifted the 24th January-paper up.  
    "Yup."  
    "So, maybe the cat's not stuck in a traffic jam, after all."  

Gary looked much better, now that the aspirin had finally started to show effect. He had even managed to drink a bit of coffee and nibble on one of Chuck's doughnuts.  
    "Chuck, where the hell is the cat? It should have been here by now!"  
    "How should I know? Am I a clairvoyant or what?" Chuck suddenly had to smile to himself.  
    "What? What's so funny all of a sudden?"  
    "It's just that you always used to be the one with the crystal ball. The one who could predict the future."  
    "Ha ha, very funny. You're the most..." Gary suddenly stopped. He thought he had heard something at the door. He abruptly opened it with the words There you finally are! already at the tip of his tongue. But when he had a close look, it was only the hotel's cleaning boy, getting ready to hoover the floor. Half disappointed he closed the door again, only to hear a very much more familiar sound just the second the door had fallen into its lock. "Meow." Gary literally threw the door open, and there it was. The cat. And a paper. He grabbed it and looked at the date.  
    "There, you see, Chuck. The cat keeps bringing me today's paper."  
    "So, it happened again. There goes my fortune. All the lost opportunities to make money. Lots of it. But, no, Mr. Gary Hobson had to play hero. No money-making he had said. No black suitcases with big notes in it. Just play the good guy all the time. Maybe this is the reason it doesn't come anymore. The cat decided you were too boring for the job. Maybe the cat is looking more for the gambling-type. More for someone like... me."  
    "Do you wanna say the paper comes to you now?"  
    "Oh, I wish!"  
    "But why? Why does the cat still bring the paper? If I wanted today's paper, I could just go down to the newsdealer and get it."  
    "Maybe it's its way to show you that you don't need to bother anymore. No more Mr. Hobson saving the world. And maybe it is still visiting you to see if you're okay. To see how you're doing without tomorrow's paper."  
    "Perfect. A feline baby-sitter."  
    "If you ask me, Gar, just don't think about it anymore. Accept that you're not the guy for the job anymore. This is what you always wanted since that cursed paper arrived at your doorstop, isn't it?"  
    "Marissa and you really sound exactly the same. That's what she told me, too."  
    "Well, then maybe it's the most sensible thing to do."  
    "Yeah, I guess it is. But what if it's not what the paper wants me to do? What if I'm supposed to do something else entirely?"  
    "Gary, why do you still cling to the paper so much? If it wanted you to do something specific, don't you think it would have told you? I'm not saying this again: Let go of the paper."  
    "Maybe I had planned to make a fortune with it, after all. Maybe I had just decided yesterday that I wanted to go and get a lottery ticket and win big. To treat myself. To get something out of the whole thing."  
Chuck stared at Gary to determine if he was pulling his leg, but apparently he was not.  
    "Are you serious, Gar?"  
    "Me? Have you even known me not being serious?"  
    "To be honest, yeah."  
    "Alright, but I've had this thought, yes. Why not go out and do what you were so hot on doing with the paper all the time?"  
    "That doesn't sound like you, Gary."  
    "Doesn't it? Perhaps I have changed, did you consider that? Perhaps the damn paper has changed me. Perhaps I'm just sick of the whole goddamn business." He forcefully threw the paper he still held in his hands to the floor.  
    "Whoa, whoa. whoa, go easy! This is getting us nowhere. If you can't accept the whole damn thing, fine! Ponder about it as much as you like. But not with me, I've had it. See you, Gary. Make sure you give me a phone call, once the paper comes back," Chuck said sarcastically and left an irritated Gary alone in his room.  
    Gary couldn't believe it. Chuck had walked out on him. And he had always thought Chuck used be his best friend. But even a best friend's patience eventually had to wear out. So, Gary fed the cat that was nervously pacing to and fro. "Your damn paper used to get me into trouble and now it still does, even if it's not there anymore. You've been nothing but a nuisance to me ever since I met you!" With those words he offered it a bowl of milk and one with cat food in it. "Do you know that you don't deserve this at all?" He took his leather jacket and left the hotel. He had to go somewhere to think.  
    Once he had left the hotel, he had started walking. Nowhere specifically, he had just walked. Now, he realised that his feet had taken him to his favourite bench. The one overlooking the river. He sat down and watched the silent swaying of the waves, the glistering of the light on the constantly moving water...  
  

He didn't know how long he had sat there. Minutes? Hours? He had suddenly become aware of a wet coldness and then he had felt the rain pouring down on him. He quickly pulled up the collar of his jacket and headed for the next opportunity of shelter. Which happened to be a shelter of a bus stop. He shock the rain off his hair and became aware of the old man who lay on the cold wooden bench of the bus shelter. He was covered by an old ragged sleeping bag that couldn't offer much warmth, from what it looked like. It suddenly made Gary realise that he actually wasn't so bad off after all. Look at you, Gary Hobson. You've got a roof to sleep under, you've got friends to rely on, you've got enough to eat and you don't have to fear for your existence every day. How stupid had he been? How foolish? Brooding for hours in the pouring rain, about something as insignificant as a newspaper! Had Chuck and Marissa been right, in the end? He didn't know. He just didn't know. Until two days ago, his life had been in order. Well, in a chaotic sort of order, but at least he had known what he had had to do every day. The paper had given his life some sense. And now they, whoever they were, had taken that away from him. Had they really? Maybe the paper would come back. If not tomorrow, then perhaps the day after that. Or the day after. At any time, really. No, he was not ready to accept it was lost forever. No matter what Marissa and Chuck might say. He decidedly strode out into the rain and made his way back to his hotel room.  

    When Gary had returned to his room there had been no newspaper. No tomorrow's newspaper, that is. Gary didn't know to be happy or sad about it. Mostly, he thought he was sad, though. Or maybe he should say disappointed. So, he had resigned for the day and had gone to bed early after watching some TV.  
    Gary awoke to the bright light blinding him. The sun had come out early today and it had woken him even before his alarm could go off. He risked a look at the clock. 6.21 a.m.God, he thought, don't I ever get some sleep? But he didn't feel that tired as he had turned in early last night. He eventually decided to get up and get some coffee, but before he knowingly turned off the alarm on his radio. The stupid radio DJ was making him mad every morning... Or maybe it was just that he reminded him too much of the time when he had still got the paper. It's only been two days without it and I am already pining about "good old times"... he mused grimly. Then there was a loud knock at his door. Gary suddenly realised he was still only dressed in a T-shirt and his boxer-shorts. "Who is it?"  
    "Gar, it's me." Chuck. Good old Chuck couldn't be upset with anyone for more than a day. So, Gary opened the door.  
    "Hi, Buddy. So, what's new?" Chuck strode in, tossing Gary a paper bag he had brought from the bakery. It had become somewhat of a ritual that Chuck dropped by before work and they had breakfast together. For the most part, it was because Gary and Chuck had been old friends, but Gary had had the distinct feeling that Chuck always had a sort of hidden agenda, regarding the paper. Namely catching even a tiny piece of information from the sports page in an unguarded moment...  
    "What's new? Not much, I guess."  
    "No paper, yet?"  
    "No paper, yet."  
    "Where's the cat?"  
    "How should I know? Hasn't been here since yesterday." Gary unpacked what looked like two enormous chocolate muffins."Chuck, you really wanna eat this for breakfast?"  
    "Yeah, sure. What's wrong with it?"  
    "You're disgusting!"  
    "Am I? I remember times when you had cheeseburgers for breakfast. Every morning. And you call this disgusting?!"  
    "That was years ago! It was when we were still at college. I can't believe you even remember that!"  
    "Don't you underestimate my brain capabilities."  
    "Oh, I would never do that. Not to mention your capabilities in Japanese."  
    "What? How did you know that?"  
    "Oh, I didn't. Just an educated guess..."  
    "Got anything planned for today?"  
    "Nope."  
Chuck didn't want to press the matter any further. All he had to say to Gary about the paper he had already said. And where had it gotten them? He decided to let Gary deal with it in his own way. What else could he do? Gary wouldn't listen to him, anyway. They just quietly sipped their coffee together and Gary had decided the muffin wasn't so bad, after all. The clock turned 7 a.m. and Chuck got up from the table. "Have to get to work. Sorry, buddy."  
    "Yeah, I know," Gary said understandingly.  
So, Chuck left Gary's room and Gary was, once again, on his own. Work. That was something he would need to do if the paper really wasn't coming back. But he couldn't imagine to be a stockbroker again. Maybe he should look for a nice and quiet job that would just earn him enough to keep his head above water. Easier said than done. Especially in a city like Chicago where probably every 10th person was out of work, anyway. Basically, he would have to take what he was offered. But he decided not to bother about unlaid eggs, yet. And where the hell was the cat?! It hadn't shown up at all. Was that it, finally? No cat, no paper? Never again?  

    Two weeks had passed since the paper had last arrived at Gary Hobson's doorstop. Two weeks, he thought. Seems like it was yesterday. But, in a way, he had gotten used to a life without it. He had found he even appreciated a life without chaos, without the obligation of being a hero, without getting up at 6.30 every morning. And he had accepted it... Almost. Chuck and Marissa had been right in the end, he had to admit that much to himself. But now he was missing something. Living a life of a free man was good enough. For a while... He needed a purpose to his life. And more importantly, he needed money. So, I have to find a job, after all. It was something he dreaded. Going to countless interviews, only to be told time and again: "Yes, this is all very impressing, Mr. Hobson, but we are afraid, we cannot offer you a post at this time." He decided to ask Marissa about it. Maybe she knew someone who knew someone who had a friend who could offer him a job...  

    Marissa had been more than forthcoming. She was tremendously relieved to see that Gary had finally made it. That he had finally started to get himself a new life, to accept an ordinary life without the paper. And Gary had just had the right feeling, Marissa had organised him a neat job as a clerk with a trading company. And it was an even better job than Gary had been hoping for. But one thing he had decided to keep. His hotel room. It wasn't all that expensive, although Chuck had shown him huge calculations that he would be much better off with a flat or an apartment in the long run. No, the hotel room had something very special, he wasn't ready to give that up just yet. Maybe later. Some time in the future. The cat hadn't turned up again since two days after he had gotten the paper for the last time. Actually, it was something Gary still missed. Not for the sake of the paper but he had always liked the cat, no matter how many papers of yesterday, today, or tomorrow it had brought. He had considered getting a cat from an animal shelter. And maybe one day he would. But now he had to get accustomed to a whole new life. The life of an ordinary 20th century bachelor with a job, without a wife... and without tomorrow's newspaper.  
  
  

Chuck's monologue:  
Everyone has wishes. Wishes so strong that you even play make-believe with them sometimes. But no matter how much you wish for something, you might be disappointed when it finally comes true. My father always used to say, Be careful what you wish for... And when I'm watching my friend Gary, I can finally see the truth in it. Consider this: The next time you wish for something, just think a moment about the consequences. Gary never really did. Or maybe he wasn't ready for them. And who knows, perhaps, one day, life will show up at his doorstop again...  
  
The End