A random thought dawned on me, and I walked back over to the dresser. Pulling out drawers again and shoveling clothing around, the truth hit me like a brick. The paper was gone, that mysterious paper with a scientific diagram of some unknown device; it was gone. Ellie must have taken it.
I did not recall us ever exchanging phone numbers. She had followed me to the bar the night before. Where could I find her? It wasn’t likely she’d want to be found. I wracked my brain to figure out how she could have known what was on that paper. It just didn’t add up.
There were some errands to run, but after a couple of hours, I had to head back to my apartment for a long nap. I awoke again just as it was getting dark, feeling very disoriented.
The drawers of my dresser were still askew. Slowly, the memory came back. Ellie playing the guitar. My blurry vision and hazy thoughts also attested to my activities of the night before. The headache was just a little bit duller, but still there. It hit me again. Ellie had taken something from my dresser, and it had to be worth money to someone. Professor Milt Braddock came to mind. He would go to almost any length to stop Percival Stein at the airport, and why were we spying on the other scientist at the university? The threads were all there in their separate existence; I just needed to weave them together and see what came of them. I held my hand to my head and went back to the kitchen to re-heat some lukewarm coffee. I needed to play out the events of the night before in more detail. It wasn’t going to be easy.
Returning to the coffee shop the next night, I sat and waited. She never showed up. Most likely she had skipped town. Was she also perpetuating a ruse for an employer who paid her to get information? It seemed obvious. I asked around, and no one in the coffee shop knew anything about her. Two espressos later and still dragging my feet, I asked at both of the bars that I remembered us frequenting the night before, getting no information at all. I even apologized for any bad behavior I’d committed. On a whim, I asked if she was of age.
“Really? Her license said she was twenty-five” the bartender replied.
I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah, of course. Thanks.” Fake ID. Her name probably wasn’t even Ellie. There was no telling what I’d gotten myself in the middle of, but I didn’t feel like anyone else was coming for me.
The bartender asked if I was going to order anything.
“No, thanks.” My head was feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton. The sounds of the bar were kind of muffled to me, as if I was under water. I walked outside to catch some air and decide what to do next.
Crossing the street to my car, I heard a squeal of brakes. I am not clear on what happened next. I can tell you that I was knocked down. I recall that. Was it my fault or the fault of a driver not paying attention? I couldn’t tell you that either. Why I woke up in the ER on a stretcher with a doctor shining a light into one of my eyes was not too clear to me at first, either.
There was a beeping sound, and muffled voices. Slowly, I sensed lights around me and human shapes.
“There may be a head injury. We need to do a scan. Well, there he is!” The doctor sat back and smiled at me. He had been the one shining a light in my eyes.
I sat up. “Can I go?” I looked at my arms and legs. No blood. My head still felt dull, though, and I had to lay back again to dispel the sudden dizziness. I saw the doctor whispering into a nurse’s ear and then leaving my little area.
“Just sit tight.” The nurse was a muscular, redheaded guy. “We’re just waiting to get you in for a head scan. We have to be sure everything is alright in the old noggin.” He tapped his head.
“Okay.” I felt so out of control. If only I’d been paying attention. It was time to quit; enough had already happened to me just in the last few days. Isn’t this just the icing on the cake? I sighed.
Finally, the professionals who walked in and out of my area returned after my scan and said I was okay and just had to take it easy. “By the way, you’re a little bit dehydrated. We gave you some fluids though, and make sure you just drink a lot of fluids at home. Rest for a day or two. You should skip the coffee as well, or just only sneak a half of cup.”
This would be rough, I knew. I was released to no one, as no one would be there to pick me up. It took some convincing that they didn’t need to call anyone. I assured them I was not driving and would simply be on a bus home. They had nothing that justified holding me.
After all of my blood shed in the last few months working for Jack and helping my neighbor, I walked away from a collision with a car bearing no scars, no blood loss. I chuckled as I stepped onto a bus to get back home.
I headed back to my apartment and carefully boxed up the few remaining belongings I had. I didn’t want to push it, but I still had things to do. With a pounding headache, I made some more coffee. The next call I made was to the phone number I was supposed to be working for.
“Hey, it’s Malachi, I know you haven’t heard from me in a while. I was sort of sick. Can I start up again?”
“Sorry, Malachi.” It was Stacy, the shift coordinator. “You’ll have to come in and meet with the manager. You’re not even in the system anymore. I mean, I’m checking, but you are not even listed as one of our employees.”
I wasn’t even good enough for the call center. What a blow to the ego. I took a deep breath, trying to regain my dignity, and went to pour myself another cup of coffee before I washed that out and packed it up too. “Okay, Stacy, I’ll do that. Will he be there tomorrow?”
“Yes. You’ve gotta be all apologetic like, okay?”
“Yeah, no problem.” I hung up. Delivering pizza seemed it would be best for me after all. I called G.D. thinking he could put in a good word for me with his boss.
“Sorry, I know it’s last minute, but can you please meet me at the coffee shop?”
“Not until around 10 p.m. I’ve got a gig I’m heading out to right after you hang up.”
“Okay.” I sighed. “I get it; I know it’s really last minute.”
“See you then.”
I sat and picked at my guitar a little, remembering Ellie playing the night before. There was no way I was near as good as she was.
With a wry smile, I put it down and got out a notebook to ponder how much longer I could afford to stay in this apartment on a call center salary and possibly by delivering pizzas, hoping the tips would be good.
Chapter 18
An Affront
Two years later, I was just getting back on my feet, working in sales in the D.C. area, putting that gift of gab to use. Cellular phones were a good commodity, and I was making decent money. Between shifts, I sat outside at my favorite coffee shop in my standard issue polo shirt and khakis. I had been reading the sports section of the newspaper, so I didn’t look up until I smelled her perfume. Sure enough, there was a lovely young woman seated across from me.
“Is the espresso good here?” she asked with a shake of her long, brown hair. She wore a silver pendant with a moon and a ruby inside it. Cool and mysterious, just like her. I quickly looked up, hoping I wasn’t being creepy or gazing at the pendant too long. As beautiful as ever, those hazel eyes of hers, while youthful, looked like they had seen many faraway places. They were both here and somewhere else at the same time. It was a certain wisdom that shook me. “You know,” she added, “They have wonderful art museums around here. Have you taken the time to check any of them out?”
“It’s you.” I shook my head. “You know, I could have you arrested for what you stole from me the last time I saw you,” I replied with rancor.
“Something I stole? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen you before. I just wanted to come over and talk to the attractive young man who was relishing his coffee and scones. You don’t have much of an appetite, do you?” She looked down at my plate.
Deflecting. She was a pro.
Skipping the niceties, I dove right in. “Well, you look lovely, not a day older. Is that why you stole that paper from me? What was it, the fountain of youth?
Did you drug me that night? You sure used me. Just look at you! What are you, eighteen now? How old were you then when you drugged me in my own apartment?”
“I was old enough. And now? I could be eighteen, or I could be eighty-one. It really doesn’t matter.” She gave me a mocking, half-smile, as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. Well, I really didn’t. It was all a shot in the dark, and she knew it, but she had to know that I knew there was something going on here, way beyond her flirtation and the pretense of having never seen me before.
“Yes, you took that paper,” I asserted.
“So you say I stole a paper from you? Wasn’t that a paper that you stole from someone else? You have quite an imagination,” she replied, looking cool and unaffected.
I knew it was all an act. There it was, one slight nervous tic in her right eye, the only giveaway. She did take the risk, though. Perhaps she even lived for these uncomfortable moments. Did she expect I’d never discovered her thievery? Sure, we both had a degree of guilt, but somehow I felt she’d committed a deeper wrong than I had.
“I’m not gonna let you go so easily this time.” I scooted my chair much, much closer to her and firmly put my hand on her arm.
“You think so? Well, nice to see you’re doing so well.” She stood up, and just as I reached out for her arm again, she grabbed it and throat punched me with her other hand. I instinctively put both hands to my throat when she ran off, hearing the heels of her boots scurrying on the concrete. She had won. I watched her long, dark coat trail behind her with her hair trailing in the wind. It was actually quite an intriguing sight.
“Somebody. Stop. Her.” I squeaked with what was left of my voice. By then, she was no longer in sight.
“Dude, that’s on you. Who knows what you were whispering in her ear when you moved that chair closer? Want to call the cops? I’m pretty sure they’ll be unmotivated to find her for you,” answered a muscular gym rat at the table adjacent to me. Heck, he was probably right. He stood to ensure I didn’t chase after the young lady.
“She stole. Something. Valuable,” I whispered.
Mr. Gym Rat stepped closer. “I’ll bet you can’t prove it in a court of law.”
I just looked back at him, defeated. I weakly took a sip from my water glass.
He continued, “Now, your aggression, however, could be proven in a court of law. Moving that chair closer, your hand on her arm. She looked threatened. There’s no way any court would side with you. Doesn’t matter if she came up to you first, flirting and all, batting those big brown eyes. Don’t matter what she was wearing either.”
“It’s not about that,” I grunted. But it didn’t matter at all what it was about; she was gone, and I had to let her go.
“Well, I’m gonna leave it be; it looks like you learned your lesson. You had no idea such a sweet gal would know martial arts, did you?”
Martial arts? Is that what they call it? I thought. My hand went back up to my throat. “Yes, thanks, man.”
“Do you need an ambulance? How hard did she punch?”
“It’s okay. I’m gonna, j-just take a breather.”
“Alright.” He sat down, bringing his water glass from his own table. “Can we get another water over here?” he called to the waiter.
“Really.” I struggled for words. “There’s background with us. I know, I’ll n-never get it back. She’s g-good at what she does.” I coughed.
“I’ll say she is. And you claim you know her?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “But it’s okay, it’s over. I’ll let it go.”
He lowered his voice. “I think, to most onlookers, all she stole was your heart. No one saw her take anything. I think you’re a little bitter.” The man sighed. “Alright! You heard the man,” he called to several onlookers. “It was a lover’s spat. He had no idea his girlfriend could take him. Nothing to see here. It’s all over.” He patted me on the back, as if he was sorry for me. I was just ready to forget the whole thing. I’d never know for sure just what she had stolen.
Coming out of a drugstore next door was an older African-American man that looked disheveled and walked with a slight limp. He looked over at me and raised his eyebrows. I must have been a sight, with my hand at my throat; I’d also fallen out of my chair and was seated on the ground. He ambled over toward me.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
“Otis. It’s good to see you, my friend.” I shakily took a sip of water.
“Uh-oh. You don’t look so good.”
“S-Sit down, Otis, please.”
He looked around self-consciously, then took a seat. “What happened? Ya’ look hurt. Nice clothes and all, but what’s wrong?” He eyed me up and down.
I strained to say a complete sentence, then coughed out, “I just ran into a woman who is full of anger.”
“Yeah, I saw her run off. I remember her. You know, she hasn’t changed a bit. I should have told you about her...” he started.
So, it was not just me who thought she looked the same. “Otis, I think we’re just seeing what we want to see. Let me get a drink for you. What would you like? Wait.” I coughed. “What do you think you should have told me?”
He leaned forward and asked me to repeat myself, just as a paramedic drove up, sirens blasting. I felt so embarrassed. By now I had made my way to the chair.
Otis stood. “She was lookin’ for you before I even met you. Showed me a picture, said your name was Malachi and that you worked somewhere in the area. Some man brought her by in a car. She said she figured I’d notice things other people don’t; she’s right. This was probly before you even started workin’ there. First time I saw you, I knew you was the one she was lookin’ for. I tried to warn you, but I didn’t tell you all I should.”
I took a deep breath as the paramedic approached. “What else do you know?”
“Nothin’. That’s it. But I should’ve told ya’. She surely wanted somethin’ from you. You oughta’ been more careful.” He waved an arm. “I don’t need nothing. I gotta go. People will be wantin’ their windows cleaned. Lunch time. It’s a busy time. Relax, I think you’ll be okay. Pay attention to doctor’s orders.” He got up. “Nice to see you though.”
I was at a loss for words. Did this mean that Ellie knew I would become Malachi before I even thought about it, before I ever even met Jack? How did she even know I would be working in that area? My ‘job of record’ was nowhere near there. I needed to know more, but I didn’t even know what to ask.
As he started walking away, I reached into my wallet. “Otis, get yourself some lunch!” I waved a twenty, and he just kept on walking.
“Nah, I can earn my lunch, but thank you, Malachi. This man got punched in the throat,” he said to the paramedic.
“Is this the street where you work?” I asked Otis.
He stopped and looked at me. “Yeah, usually. I’ll see you again, Malachi.”
For a moment, I regretted that he never had known my real name. Not to mention, where had he been all these years? Why was I just seeing him today?
A woman came up and introduced herself to the paramedic. “I saw it all,” she said.
“Sir, we need you to keep quiet. Let me check your vitals,” the paramedic instructed.
“It’s Mike!” I called out to Otis, but my voice was not ready for that yet.
Otis turned a street corner, oblivious to what I’d said. It was just as well anyway. I’d see him again.
“How do you feel?” the paramedic asked. Evidently, my vital signs were okay and his face appeared a lot less urgent than before.
“I’m okay— just a little short of breath.”
“There’s no bleeding, and the skin is not broken,” he told the other paramedic. To me, he asked, “Can somebody drive you home?”
“I work right down the street. Yeah, I can ask a co-worker.”
He called for the waiter to bring some ice in a clear bag.
“Keep this on the site. Can you stand up?”
“I’m okay, I’ll be alright.”
“Are you going right back to work?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You’ll go home right after?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll be fine. Who even called you?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I did,” said the young woman who had approached the paramedics when they first arrived. It figured.
I couldn’t find it in my heart to thank her.
The paramedic gave me a rundown of signs to look for, what to take to reduce swelling, when and if to call 911 or go to the ER. All of which I planned on not doing. I didn’t really have good insurance at that point.
I looked around. All eyes had turned away from me, the weakling who was desperate for a friend, who came up against a tigress, unaware of what he was up against. I’m still not quite sure.
Chapter 19
Making My Future
I learned the value of my gift of gab. Words are powerful. They came in handy every day that I was on the beat selling security systems to upstart businesses and wealthy home owners. At age thirty-two, the sales arena was working out quite well for me. Stories are just as powerful in sales. They don’t have to be true; you just have to be able to convince people they are true. I seem to have that gift. So let’s just say that I grew up and learned to put that to practical and financial use. I was no longer starving.
G.D. and I became friends at some point, and we maintained contact, sometimes getting together for a drink.
“Malachi, I’ve got a really good idea,” he said one day.
“Let’s hear it then!”
“We start an adult arcade, and we get all kinds of big money investors.”
I just listened. I told him to check into it. It took me some time to get traction with my life purpose. Nothing sounded right to me. He got tired of trying to get me to join him in odd business ventures and got a real job. Behaving like an adult, he also found himself a wife.
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