by Jack Hammond
“Here we go,” he said placing them down carefully.
“Thank you, Max.” Sandra replied.
The room began to empty, the last of the afternoon rush returning to work, leaving the two of them privately in the corner. The green and silver furnishings were on show along with the light wood edging. The colors looked elegant and inviting; Max supposed that’s what eateries went for.
“Why do you do this?” She asked Max outright.
“Do what?” Max asked innocently.
“Why are you here every day?” she said nibbling the corner of her sandwich, “I mean, it has been almost two months and every day you’re there when I arrive. No matter how early, you’re always there with a glass of water and your book.”
Max looked at her curiously, that’s how it felt to him, with Edward whenever they met. “It’s complicated,” Max said. It wasn’t, he knew exactly what was coming and what to say. But he needed her to pry it out of him. Max needed Sandra to feel as if they had shared a secret, then and only then, would she share hers.
“How is it complicated? I just want to know,” she asked. “Is it my boy or me?”
That was a surprise. Max hadn’t anticipated her being so bold. This was good, getting straight to the point, “Hmmm.”
“Don’t ‘hmmm’, just tell me, why are you here?” She used a demanding tone, Max had never heard before.
“I was here because of your boy,” he lied softly, looking at the table. “But I stayed because of you,” Max sounded genuinely sincere, “both of you.”
“That’s what I needed to hear,” Sandra said placing her hand on his. “You’ve been a rock, I swear, without you I would have broken weeks ago.”
Max was getting closer to where he needed to be, he could sense the conversation turning in his direction. He just needed to lead Sandra into the right questions. “You’re stronger than you think.” Max said. That wasn’t a lie. “When I heard about your boy at school, it reminded me of… sorry, I mean. It reminded me of…” he deliberately cut it short. Come on Sandra, he thought, pick up the ball, pick it up and run girl.
“Reminded you of what?” She enquired.
“It doesn’t matter, honestly.”
“Please, Max, what did it remind you of?” she pressed.
“When I lost my brother, I was young, and it affected me more than I thought.” Max lied, he had a sister, and she was fine. She was living happily on the Australian coast. “I went to see Thomas to show support from the school, but when I saw him, all I could see was Jared.” He continued his story. “It was selfish, but I hoped if I could be there for your son. The way I hadn’t been able to for my brother…” again he deliberately trailed off.
“But now you’re staying for us?” She asked.
“God, yes,” he said sincerely. “After the first week I sensed a connection.”
“I did to,” she gladly interrupted.
“You did?” He said. Of course you did, Max thought. You were made to think that.
“Yes. It's like I’ve known you my entire life Max,” she confided in him.
“I feel the same way,” almost there now, he silently said to himself. “You’re not mad at me?”
“How could I be? You have been at my son’s side more than anyone in my family. The way you read to him, keep him company and me.”
“Thank you for understanding,” he said. Okay, now the baits been laid, let’s spring the trap. “I had a horrible dream the other night, I told you all this, and you hated me. It has been playing on my mind for a few days.”
Max's answer came instantly, the colour drained from her face, leaving a pale white mask. The table fell silent as Max looked at her, he needed to act surprised and he did it with consummate ease.
“Have I said something wrong?”
“No, it’s just I’ve had a dream the last few nights,” she replied, “you saying that just reminded me of it.”
“What happened?” Max asked. His trap sprung perfectly, “In your dream.”
Sandra paused and took a mouthful of tea, swallowing she began, “I dream, I’m in the hospital. You’re there, reading as always. I’m sat with Thomas,” she paused. “Then a man comes in, dressed in black, black coat, black hat. He walks over and begins to pick up Thomas. I try to stop him but I can’t move, for some reason. I scream, God do I scream. But no one hears me,” she quickly took another sip. “You’re sat right there, but you can’t hear me. You just carry on like nothing’s happening.”
Max’s look changed swiftly from surprise to concern, “Then what happens?”
“He takes my boy out of the room, then I can move so I run to the door, but no one’s there. I turn around and Thomas is back in the bed, but it’s not him. It looks like him, but it’s not him,” she stops for a second, “and every day I think when I walk through the door, my boys going to be gone.” Sandra cried, Max quickly moved to her side, his warm hug, comforting the young woman.
Max held her while she wept, his mind however was not on the crying Miss Kern, but the fact he had located the source. She was the one, and she didn’t know it, but her son’s condition was her fault. Now Max needed to find out about her family history, maybe other children in the family could be like Thomas.
Max had not returned home until gone one in the morning, he had remained at the hospital all evening. Then afterwards he had taken Sandra to her place and spent the rest of the night talking and drinking bargain red wine from the local supermarket. Tired and ready for bed, he had opted for a taxi, the alcohol may have been cheap, but he was intoxicated. He struggled up the steps to the house, even inebriated something felt wrong. Max stepped back and looked up at the house. Nothing seemed out of place. The three stories of the Victorian built house sat sturdily halfway up the road. A row of tall trees bare from the harsh weather, were perfectly pitched either side of his house and the bright red door, with the brass knocker was still locked.
He pushed the key into the door and Max fell in, rather than walked. The door closed behind him, and he turned on the light. The hallway was empty, everything seemed undisturbed. The staircase directly in front of him, led up into the dark. A mirror to his left hung on the wall next to the coat rack. With a struggle, he pulled off his jacket and slung it at the hooks. It would lay crumpled on the floor until tomorrow morning now. He walked into the sitting room and flicked the light on.
“Morning, Maximus,” Edward said. He sat in the high back chair, with his black coat still buttoned and his fedora on his head.
“What the hell are you doing here, Edward?” Max blurted out. The alcohol suddenly giving him a confidence he always lacked around Edward’s kind.
“I moved up our meeting time, I see you have been,” he paused, “Enjoying yourself.”
“Oh yeah, listening to a woman prattle on about her woes is just what a guy like me enjoys Ed.” He slurred at the man with contempt.
“May I remind you, Maximus, your assignment is to infiltrate the whole family?”
“Look, Ed, can I call you Ed? Never mind, I don’t really care. Right, Ed.” Pausing he thrashed about trying to remember the point he so badly wanted to convey, “Oh yes. My assignment, yes, well it’s all in hand.”
Edward took his hat off placing it on the arm of the chair, “She’s been dreaming again,” he said bluntly. “It is not how it should be.”
“What?” Max shrugged, slouching himself into the chair next to the kitchen.
“Her dreams, they are,” he paused again. “Wrong.”
“Hold on, she told me about the dreams. They were exactly how they should be. You were taking Thomas, and she was helpless.”
“Correct. As you say, they ‘were’. Now they are not. You are helping her.”
“Shut up!” Max shouted. “I haven’t even slept yet.”
“No you haven’t, but something you have said or done has given her strength,” Edward explained.
“I’ve only done as I was instructed.”
“You�
��re intoxicated, belligerent, incompetent,” Edward stood up, “you were not instructed to do those things.”
Max sat for a moment. He knew he was safe; they wouldn’t kill him here, like this, it would be too complicated. But even in the state he was in, he felt scared, “Tell me, how do I fix this?”
“We will meet again in the morning. When you are, awake,” Edward said. “We’ll discuss your plans to rectify the situation.”
“Will I wake up?” Max asked bluntly.
“As far as I know the Associates have need of you,” he smiled as he put on his hat. “Until then, every day is a gift.”
“Thank you, Edward.” He said.
“Maximus, it is not me you should thank,” Edward walked past him, the big red door clicked shut, and Max finally fell asleep.
Red eyes, dishevelled hair and the appearance of eye bags greeted Max in the mirror. Still slightly drunk, he splashed water onto his face. Four hours sleep had not helped him, in fact he felt worse than ever. He was meeting Edward in less than an hour, and the feeling of dread far outweighed the sensation sickness. He stared at his watch, he didn’t even have time to get changed. Quickly he raced out of the door and into the street. No car! He’d have to use the tram, but even then he might not make it in time.
Max's jog gradually turned into a sprint as he navigated his way through the streets and alleys. No one was around this early apart from a few paper boys and a milk float. None of which paid any attention to his absurd staggering run. Once he was onboard the tram, Max slumped himself down in the chair as the bell rang and the doors closed. He paid for a return ticket and clutched the receipt as he gasped, trying to catch his breath. The public transport was fast, during rush hour it was packed and uncomfortable, but when it was empty like this it was a pleasure to ride. The tram moved along the tracks, everyone except emergency services gave way. Max knew he would have at least two or three more streets to go through after he reached his stop. He’d never been late, the Associates didn’t take kindly to tardiness and after last night, Max wasn’t ashamed to say he was terrified.
The next stop was the boulevard; Max set off like a greyhound out of the traps as the tram doors slid open. He darted across the empty street and zigzagged through Cedar Road and then Alberta Terrace. Max could see the cafe in the distance, looking at his watch he was six minutes early. He slowed his sprint to a brisk walk as he tried to compose himself. Max had stopped panting as he walked through the doors. He froze for a moment; the booth by the window was empty. No coffee, no paper, no Edward.
Was he late? He looked at his watch, no. He was still ahead of schedule. During his drunken stupor had Edward changed the time, and he had forgotten?
“Morning,” the waitress said.
“M-morning,” Max replied. “Has my friend been in?”
“Not today. He might be running behind,” she cheerfully replied, “coffee?”
“Please,” He said taking his usual seat.
“Terrible news about that kid,” she said, placing the coffee down on the table.
“What kid?” Max asked an air of urgency in his tone.
“Some bastard stole a critically ill child from the hospital last night.”
“Jesus Christ.” Max said. They’d taken him; that wasn’t the plan, he hadn't investigated the family.
“I know they want to find a teacher for questioning. What’s the world coming to? A bloody teacher,” she remarked.
“Sorry, did you say a teacher?”
“So it said on the radio.”
Max sobered up almost instantly. Everything was clear and pristine as a freshly cut and polished diamond. It was a trap, but not for her, for him. They had planned to snare him all along.
“I have to go,” Max said dropping some loose change out of his pocket onto the table.
“You haven’t touched your coffee,” she called after him as he rushed back outside.
The sound of sirens coming closer sobered him up more. They weren’t fire engines or ambulances, they were the police, and they were coming for him. Why had the Associates set him up? This was setting a precedent he could never have foreseen. Max took off down the street, ducking into an alley between two houses. He had grown up around here, so he knew a fence separated him from the next street along. Rushing beyond the gardens he dived between the broken panels and into the adjoining street.
Max had managed in five minutes to clear seven streets and had taken refuge in a park, using the bushes as cover. Sat under the green foliage he tried to understand what had happened. The assignment was to get into Sandra Kern’s life, find out who had passed the ability onto the boy. Then intensify the search into her family if it was on the mother’s side.
“Christ, Edward, what did I do? Why do this?” he asked himself, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Okay, let’s do this,” Max said squeezing his eyes shut.
The building was tall, about seventy levels high. There was no name, just the huge plain, silver and glass structure, surrounded by a dark expanse. Max stood outside the revolving doors, they continued to spin even though no one was walking through them. He didn't know what he was expecting, he wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Through the glass he could see a familiar coat and fedora. Edward was making his way towards him, moving through the doors, he greeted Max with a nod.
“Edward, why have you done this?” Max shouted.
“Maximus, I had nothing to do with it, this comes from,” he gestured upwards with his eyes.
“Why did you take the boy?” He asked. “I hadn’t even checked his family tree.”
“Last night, another was found,” he explained, “Far more powerful and of a matured age.”
“How is that possible?”
“Sorry Maximus, the child needed to be taken. We have neither the assets nor the time to deal with two situations.”
“But why set me up?” Max asked.
“Smarter people have made the decisions.”
Max threw his arms into the air, his face flustered and filled with restraint. He wanted to lose his cool. Charge into the Associates, tell them what he thought. But there would be no way back. “What do I do?” He asked. “What is my assignment Edward?”
“You’re a free agent Maximus, choose to run, or turn yourself in,” Edward explained. “But if you even try to tell anyone about the Associates you will be dealt with swiftly.”
“Why don’t they just kill me?”
“They haven’t said why,” Edward said moving closer to Max. “Maximus, if they wanted you dead, you would be. The fact you’re here strengthens my belief you, Maximus still have a place here.” He whispered, “Just not now. I have seen many things Maximus, believe me when I say your time is not up.” Edward smiled as he stepped back. “Take care Max,” he said holding out his hand.
With a firm shake, Max vanished.
The park was still empty when he opened his eyes; it was too early for playing kids and too late for drunks to get forty winks on the benches. Coming out from under the bush, he took a moment to think. What do they know? They knew where he'd be, but were they aware where he lived? It wouldn’t be long before a CCTV image was released to the press. Max decided to run, so he needed to be fast, he needed clothes and money. He sprinted towards the tram stop and prayed the police wouldn’t be swarming around the Victorian house when he returned home.
The journey back was a little busier; Max found himself next to a young kid, he was fourteen to sixteen years old. It was so hard to tell just how old youngsters were today. They dressed like adults, acted like adults but few were really mature. This boy however was dressed as Superman from the DC comic books. Max glanced sideways at him, his face staring directly into the screen of his mobile phone. He hoped it was a fancy dress party, or for a worthy charity and not a fashion statement.
Max had subconsciously flicked the collars up on his shirt, trying to be inconspicuous. Not knowing if his picture from the hospital security cameras were circulating, he had actua
lly made himself look a little shifty; luckily for him a good proportion of society looked that way nowadays.
His road was quiet, just as it had been a few hours ago. The cold was seeping into his core. The adrenaline from earlier had passed and the night before, combined with the morning weather took their toll on him. Max thought seeing a police car would give him another sudden burst of adrenaline, but he didn’t want that. Nervously looking up and down the street, he searched for anything suspicious. Only a few steps away from his gate, he paused, doing one more quick sweep of the street, before dashing up the steps. His front door key had been in his hand since he was on the tram, ready and waiting. He pushed it into the Yale lock and twisted it before forcing the door open with his shoulder and entering.
The hallway was not swarming with police; he thanked God under his breath. Everything seemed as it had been when he left, his winter coat crumpled up on the floor under the mirror. The stairs led up into the daylight. He needed to grab some clothes he thought, mounting the steps two at a time, he glanced to his right into the living room and froze.
It wasn’t the police or Edward with another surprise visit, but there it was on the cushion of the high back chair. Exactly where Edward had sat, in the early hours of the morning. A paper, a plain, folded newspaper. Max’s gaze never faltered as he moved back and walked over. He reached out and collected it up. It was the Guardian, and the page was open on the puzzle section. Max had never seen Edward do the crossword, he asked himself was this a clue? Or was it just lack of sleep, alcohol and fear playing tricks on him? He lowered himself into the chair and read the page. He didn’t know why, surely he should rush to get his things and leave?
“Two across,” he said out loud to himself. “Take.”
“Six down.” His voice sounded cracked, “Nothing,” Max shook his head, they were incorrect. The answers were all wrong. Some of the words didn’t even fill the blocks available. He took a moment, and focused, his eyes scanning the crossword. A red pen had been used to mark only certain ones that were incorrect. Max read them out loud, hoping he wasn’t going mad. “Take... nothing... leave... now,” he continued, “meet... at... Portman... Road,” he said like he was reading a telegram. “This can’t be my imagination,” he convinced himself. He looked at the puzzle again, and saw question thirteen circled as opposed to crossed out.
