Places I Never Meant To Go

by Shay Lynam

  “Yeah, you woke me up,” Paul replied. “But it's good to know that you got there safe and that you're doing okay.”

  “Thanks man. I'll see you soon.”

  “See you soon,” Paul replied, “and good luck. I hope you can find her.”

  “Me too.”

  That night I dreamed about Emily again. She was running through the woods like before, only now I was watching this happen from behind her. Every time she looked back, her eyes would widen in horror and she would let out a shriek.

  “Emily!” I called after her trying to catch up. “Emily, wait!” She didn't slow down, just grew farther away from me, no matter how fast I ran after her. “Emily, please, wait!”

  She must have tripped on a root or something because she went flying forward, throwing her bound hands out to catch herself. I watched as she hit the ground with a hard thud and slid into a tree.

  “Emily.”

  I ran forward, falling down to my knees next to her. There was a gash on her head and the blood was already matting her hair. “Wake up, Emily,” I whispered cupping her head in my hands. “Please wake up.” Slowly, her eyes opened and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. You're safe now, Em. I'm here.”

  Emily's eyes studied me for a second before she gasped and sat bolt upright. “No,” she whispered shaking her head. “No, no, no.”

  “Emily?”

  “No, stay away from me!” she screamed trying to get back up. “Stay away!”

  Once on her feet again, she took off running and I immediately lost her in the trees. I waited forever for the monster to come crashing through the forest after her. But nothing came. Had she really been running from me?

  The coffee shop Emily had been at all those times was only a few blocks from the college. When I walked inside, I was relieved to find that it looked nothing like in my dream. There were no taxidermy heads on the walls or any of the tables and the big windowed wall that had looked out at a forest was actually a wall with a few smaller windows that looked across at the buildings and people on the street.

  There were a few people sitting by themselves studying or just on their computers while others lounged on couches talking and drinking lattes with their mustaches and lenseless glasses. I found an empty table next and sat down, taking my laptop out of my bag. Immediately, I clicked on the link to the photo of Emily. According to the picture, counting the tables behind her, she was sitting at the one directly in front of me. I looked around again and saw that the layout was right. Studying the picture more, I noticed a kid in the background, black coat, black hair and striped fingerless gloves sitting at the table in the far corner.

  I glanced up from my screen at the corner. A kid sat there with black hair, a dark coat and striped fingerless gloves. If he had been there when the picture was taken and he was there now, maybe he had also been there the day Emily had gone missing. Maybe he had seen something. Closing my laptop, I stood up and made my way over to him.

  “Hi,” I said. The kid peered up at me through his hair then looked back down at the screen of his laptop. “I'm looking for someone,” I said. “and I'm hoping you might know something.”

  Again his eyes moved to look at me. Finally, he opened his mouth. “What do you think I know?” he asked me, his voice raspy with either sleep or a few years of chain smoking.

  “I'm looking for a girl, Emily. She's blonde, came in here a lot and sat at that table over there,” I pointed over my shoulder at her table. “She went missing a few days ago and I was hoping you-”

  “I already told whoever was in here before that I didn't see anything,” he cut me off, looking back down at his laptop.

  I bit my lip and glanced down at his empty cup. “Let me buy you coffee,” I said. “How do you take it?”

  He looked at his cup then up at me. "Black."

  “Black like your soul?” I mumbled.

  Apparently with a very little sense of humor, the kid glared at me. "No. Black like my coffee."

  Once both of us had our drinks, I brought my laptop over to his table and lifted the screen. “This is Emily,” I said showing him the picture. He took his time sipping at his black, bitter drink, studying it. “I was hoping you would know something. Maybe saw something since you seem to be here when she is.” I pointed to him in the background.

  Finally, he put his cup down. “Yeah, I have seen her here. She comes in a few times a week and sits at that table, orders a latte and spends hours doing whatever.”

  “Like what?”

  “Sometimes she brings in schoolwork or a book or she'll be on IM chatting with someone.”

  “How many someones?” I asked as my stomach did a small flip.

  The kid shrugged. “How the heck would I know? I don't have frikin' laser vision.”

  “Right, right,” I muttered. “Were you in here last Friday when she was?”

  “What are you, a cop or something?” he asked me. “I didn't come in here when they were here a few days ago cuz I knew they would be bugging me like you are.”

  “No, I'm not a cop,” I replied. “I just really need to find this girl.”

  “You her boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Stalker?”

  “What? No. I'm a friend,” I replied.

  The kid studied me again with narrowed eyes and sipped at his coffee. “What's your name?” he finally asked me.

  “Tyler,” I said. “What's yours?”

  “Jordan,” he replied. “So if you're not a cop, Tyler, what do you do?”

  I leaned in close.“I'm a bomb tester,” I said. “If you see me running, try to keep up.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Do I look serious?”

  Jordan sighed. “I've seen that Emily girl in here a couple times with a guy.”

  “A guy?”

  “Yeah, like an older guy,” he said. “He looked like he could have been her dad or something. They were here together the day before she went missing.”

  “Was anything going on? Did you hear what either of them were saying?” I asked feeling the urgency rising in my voice.

  “Well, Emily was facing away from me and I couldn't really hear what the two were saying but the guy left looking kind of pissed and then Emily looked a bit upset. Or at least the back of her looked upset. Like they'd been arguing or something.”

  Trying to think back to conversations we had had in the past, I couldn't remember any mention of an older guy or of any argument that could have taken place. What could have been going on that Emily wasn't telling me?

  “I have to go to class now,” Jordan said getting up and closing his laptop.

  I stood up too. “Sure man, hey thanks for everything,” I said holding out my hand.

  He shook it. “Sure thing, and thanks for the coffee, I guess.”

  “No problem. Maybe I'll see you soon.”

  “Sure.” Then he slung his bag over his shoulder and slunk off and out the door.

  I watched as the kid crossed the street and disappeared into the slew of people milling about. Sinking down into his chair, I stared at Emily's table wishing I knew what had been happening on that day Jordan had mentioned.

  An unknown man had sat facing him, his mouth twitching, his eyes glaring as he whispered something, maybe threatening, to Emily. Her hand came up to clutch the back of her hair as she shook her head in disagreement, making his eyes burn with fury. Then he stood up, pushing the chair back hard, had grabbed his coat and stormed off and out the door before charging down the street, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Emily then rested her elbows on the table, pushing her fingers back through her hair, pressing her palms into her eyes and breathing in deeply to calm herself down. I narrowed my eyes.

  “What happened, Em?” I whispered. My peripheral vision caught movement and I glanced up at the corner above the restrooms. A black surveillance camera jerked its way around the room following whichever guest was walking around in its line of vision. Perhaps whatever was g
oing on at Emily's table last Friday had been captured on film.

  I got up and walked over to the counter. The barista that had helped me came back over smiling and drying her hands on a towel. “You get my message?” she asked me.

  I glanced back at my paper cup sitting on the table with my laptop. “Uh, of course I did,” I replied smiling. “I'm flattered.”

  “So how about it?” she asked me, leaning her hands on the counter.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said trying to remember if I had seen any writing on my cup. “Sounds like a plan to me. But hey, I have a favor to ask.”

  “Anything for you, sunshine,” she said.

  I couldn't help but smile before saying, “Is their any way I can talk to someone about seeing what was on that tape last Friday?” I pointed up at the camera.

  “The police took it last week as evidence,” she said and started wiping down the counter in front of her.

  I bit the inside of my cheek. “I see,” I muttered.

  “But,” she smiled. “Lucky for you, we might have a copy of it.”

  “Might you?” The girl nodded. “And how might I get a hold of that copy?” She nodded in the direction of my coffee cup sitting on the table behind me. I turned back to face her. “It's a date.”

  “I get off in an hour,” she said then with a smile, turned to help a customer.

  I nodded and headed back to my table to see what kind of date this was going to be exactly and just what I may have gotten myself into. Luckily for me, when I turned the cup over, all that was written was a phone number, the name Heather and “dinner?” in girly handwriting. I glanced back at the counter to find the barista looking over at me. She gave me a wink and a smile. This wasn't going to be so bad.

  Being only 2 o clock when Heather got off, she settled for lunch instead. We had stopped at her dorm first so she could change and then I found myself sitting in one of those obscure, themed restaurants. As a scantily clad nurse brought us to our seats, I took one look at the operating table sitting in front of us and could only assume this one must be a hospital themed restaurant. The nurse gave us each menus and I skimmed it, looking at pictures of brains, blood and other body parts and fluids.

  “Uh, so what's good here?” I asked Heather, leaning over to see what she was looking at.

  Her menu was open to the salads page. Everything here looked a bit more normal, and edible. “I have only ever been here one other time.”

  “What did you get then?”

  “The triple bypass burger,” she replied showing me the item on the menu.

  I clamped my mouth shut trying not to gag and looked back down at my own. By the time the nurse had come back with our drinks hanging in plastic bags from two IV stands, I was feeling a bit sick.

  “Are you two ready to order?” she asked us.

  I glanced over at Heather, who was sipping her drink through a tube and glancing over the menu. “I'm just going to have a cob salad,” she finally said and handed the menu to the nurse.

  “Uh, same for me, with extra bacon” I nodded giving up my menu. The nurse rolled her eyes at our lack of adventure then turned on her heels and headed down the aisle. I leaned in close to Heather. “Why did you bring me here,” I whispered.

  With a laugh, Heather leaned my way. “I wanted to see the look on your face when you saw they had meatloaf shaped like small intestines.”

  I swallowed hard. “That's disgusting,” I whispered causing her to laugh again.

  “Oh.” She reached for her purse. “I almost forgot. Here.” She pulled out a videotape with last Friday's date scrolled on the edge.

  “Oh, thanks,” I said holding the tape in my hands.

  “What are you looking for anyway?” Heather asked me. “Does it have to do with that girl that went missing?”

  I nodded turning the tape over in my hands.

  “Is she your girlfriend?” Her voice hinted a bit at sadness.

  I looked at her. “What? No,” I said watching her face perk back up. “I mean, she's my friend. We've been talking for a while.”

  “I see.”

  “She is made it clear that she doesn't want to be anything more though, ya know, than just friends.”

  Heather scooted closer and put her hand on mine. “Well, I think it's very cool that you're trying to help her. Even if you don't end up getting laid.”

  I couldn't help but laugh. “I know, I'm a regular gentleman,” I said giving her hand a squeeze.

  The nurse brought our salads to us in two big petri dish looking things. “Anything else?” she asked formally.

  “I don't think so,” I said.

  Heather smiled at her. “We're good. Thanks.”

  With a forced smile, she left again, pulling her dress down.

  “So you're not from here,” Heather said spearing a tomato with her fork.

  I shook my head, my mouth already full of food. “New York City.”

  “Wow,” Heather sighed. “You traveled across the country to find this girl?”

  “Pathetic right?” I asked.

  “No, I think it's sweet. There aren't any guys I know that would do that.”

  “Yeah, if I stay here too long, I might turn into one of them. Look, I'm already eating rabbit food.”

  “You put extra bacon in it,” Heather laughed.

  "So are you telling me bacon isn't a vegetable?"

  "No... no, it's not."

  "Dang,” I muttered. “This vegetarian thing is gonna be harder than I thought."

  After lunch/dinner, I brought Heather back to my hotel room to watch the tape. I had insisted she be there to watch it with me so she could fill me in on anything I couldn't tell by the tape. Like the conversation.

  “Make yourself at home,” I said once we had stepped inside.

  “Holy crap,” she whispered looking around my suite. “There's something you're not telling me.”

  “You caught me,” I said putting my laptop bag down on the floor. “I'm really the Prince of England here on official British business. It took me forever to master my American accent.”

  Heather gave me a smug smile before sitting down on the bed and tucking her legs up under herself. I put the tape in the VCR and reached over her, grabbing the remote from the other side of the bed.

  “Don't toy with me,” Heather said nudging me in the side.

  I smiled and nudged her back. “Who said anything about toying?”

  “Uh, he said as he was about to watch a video of his girlfriend.”

  I nudged her again before pushing the play button. A gray-scale bird's eye view image appeared of the coffee shop. Emily's table was empty.

  “You have to fast forward,” Heather said to me. “This was around when the shop opened. The girl didn't come in until around eleven thirty.”

  I fast forwarded, watching the time down in the corner speed by. During that time, blurs came in and out of the shop, stood in line, went to tables and sat down on couches.

  “There,” Heather said quickly and I pressed play.

  I immediately spotted Emily walking in and sitting at the table next to the one I had been at. Her body was facing the camera and I could see a look of anxiety on her face as she tapped her fingers on the table in front of her.

  She must have been waiting for that guy. The way she was looking out the window every few seconds, her foot bouncing nervously. She had planned for this meeting. It was like she already knew what was going to happen.

  “That's him,” Heather pointed at the man walking in the door.

  I paused the tape quickly and got closer to the television. I could barely see his face but I could make out a few distinct features. His hair was dark and shaggy and he had a mustache and beard. He didn't look like anything special. The guy wasn't wearing a suit or anything, just a t-shirt and jeans but the way Emily's body had stiffened the moment he had walked in, the way she was frozen upright now, it was like Death himself had walked into this little coffee shop. When Heather cleared her t
hroat, I jerked back.

  “Uh... do you want to see what happens next or just stare at him all night?” she asked.

  “Sorry,” I muttered and pushed the play button, sitting back against the bed.

  The image came to life again as the man paused in the doorway, his eyes gazing around for a second before landing on Emily and her table. He didn't seem angry or anything right then but according to Jordan, things were about to change. My eyes flicked to the left at the thought of the kid and sure enough, there he was, crouched over his laptop at his corner table with his black coffee.

  “What was going on at this point?” I asked Heather as I watched the man sit down and Emily begin to talk.

  “I couldn't really tell right then,” Heather replied. “It's pretty loud back behind the counter what with the blenders and the steamer and everything going on.”

  Emily laid her hands out on the table in front of her, palms up like she was trying to break some sort of news to the man. He shook his head and I saw him put his hands down on the table as well, though his were turned down. Just a few seconds later, he lifted his hands and slammed them down on the table. Though there was no audio to the video, I could tell this had been loud enough to cause everyone to jump and jerk their heads in Emily's direction. My hands balled into fists. How dare this man yell at her.

  “Okay, I could kind of hear what was going on there,” Heather said interrupting my thoughts. I paused the tape on the angry man, mid-yell and turned to look at her. “He was yelling at her, saying 'we had a deal!' over and over again.”

  “We had a deal?” I asked turning back to face the television. I pushed play. “What kind of deal?”

  “I haven't the slightest idea,” Heather replied. “After that, he got up and it sounded like he said 'you're paying for this.' And then he stormed out.”

  “You're paying for this?”

  “Yeah, right there, he points at the two coffees and says 'you're paying for this.' and left.”

  “You're paying for this?”

  “That's what it sounded like,” she said. “I mean, like I said, it was loud back behind the counter.”

  Just then movement on camera caught my attention. Jordan was standing up. I watched him take his headphones out of his ears and walk over to Emily's table. He sat down across from her where the man had been sitting and put his hands on hers as if to console her.