Ham Taylor: Lost In Time!

by J.P Jackson

- Four Years Ago -

  Taylor placed a bottle of single malt Macallan over the clothes in his suitcase and pressed his weight down on the lid.

  Penelope sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her hands as the early morning sun blazed through the blinds. "I'm leaving you," she said, both voice and expression distant.

  Taylor tucked in his shirt, corrected his neck tie, rolled his case to the door then tapped a finger to his temple. A translucent light left his eye and he groaned at its information. "Seems every asshole wants to be my best mate. 24 missed calls and – get this - 640 emails."

  "Did you hear me?" she asked, scratching the gold band around her finger.

  Taylor lowered the hand from his temple and returned to peek through the blinds. Hundreds of autonomous cars past end to end, and hovering over the highway was a prominent billboard with a chiselled, copper coloured Taylor in his underwear. 'Making science sexy' read the slogan above his head.

  "Taxi should be here," he said, rubbing his beefy stomach. "Can't believe they gave me a six pack. Looks good though, eh?"

  Penelope took a cigarette from the bedside ashtray, left the bed and moved to her husband's back. She placed a hand over his shoulder and when he turned, she deposited the smoke between his lips.

  "Sorry you can't come with," he said. "I'll bring you back something Swedish."

  "I won't be here."

  Taylor shrugged, lighting the cigarette. "Where then?"

  Penelope took a deep breath. "It's over Ham."

  Her movements appeared slow and rehearsed, as if she had practiced this scene many times. Taylor meanwhile was startled by a ringing in his ear and a scrolling message in his eye. 'Taxi outside. Taxi outside.'

  "You're doing this now?" he whispered, disabling the message. He stared at Penelope's hard face and knew she was serious.

  "You...stupid fucking bitch."

  Before Taylor could inhale the smoke, Penelope slapped it out of his mouth.

  "Don't you ever call me a bitch! I'm not one of those sluts dangling off your arm on TV! I'm the one who has been holding this together, I'm the one who always put us first!"

  She slapped the other side of his face and Taylor shoved her onto the bed.

  "Those women were just for show! Hollywood bullshit! I didn't touch any of them and I won't deal with your jealous shite! Convenient that you waited for now to drop this. The accomplishment of my life and you just had to piss all over it! Well fuck you, Penelope! Fuck you!"

  Taylor put his foot through the dresser and Penelope sprang up from the bed. Her face crimson, she ran to throw open the apartment door then kicked Taylor's suit case into the lobby. "Yesterday the media called you the greatest mind of the 21st century. They forgot lying wanker!"

  Taylor stopped at the door and coldly met his wife's wet eyes.

  "Ham the pig," she whispered in his face.

  Lowering his head, Taylor left the apartment and Penelope slammed the door at his back. He would never see her again.

  — CHAPTER EIGHT —