NEVILLE
“Work for you?” She shakes her head. “Are you a crazy asshole or what?” She puts some distance between us. “I’m not what you think. I’m not looking to work for some stranger that I don’t know anything about!” She stares at me wildly. “What do you mean by ‘my driver will drive you back to my house?’”
"I meant. . .you're looking for work, aren't you?" My fingers are under my eyes, massaging the eye strain from being up all night and not sleeping enough on the flight on my way back home. "I can offer you work if you are earnestly looking for it. I just want to help you." I try to focus my gaze on her face. "My dad's-his real estate property probably needs a keeper and I need someone who I can trust."
"And you think you can trust me?"
"Is there any reason why I shouldn't?" I give her a look. "What are you trying to say? That you're not to be trusted?"
"No, that's not what I am saying."
"Then what is it?"
"I'm saying that you need to get the hell away from me." She's exuding anger, and her fingers are clasped together into tight fists. "I won't work for you or any random perverted asshole in a million years, even if I have to clean floors for the rest of my life." She explodes at me. "Get out from here. I don't want to see your face."
I don't understand why she is so livid right now. But before I go, I try my luck once again with her.
"You won't know this by any chance, but our lives are quite similar." I take a beat. "You are losing your mom, and I have already lost my dad. I'm heading home to finalise his funeral services when I get out of this place." I shake my head. "We are not much different, despite what you think."
That makes her still in her place. No words come out of her mouth, though. After sharing a couple of concerned glances with each other, I leave the supermarket with my things in hand.
It hurts a little bit knowing that I will probably never see her again. And she might never forgive me for what I have done to her without wanting to.
"Hey, can you wait?" Her voice calls out. "I'm sorry." She runs toward me to catch up with me. I still myself in my steps. We both stand outside awkwardly, staring at different things in our surroundings but at each other. "I don't know why I said those things."
Staring at the sun and the street in front of me, I decide that it would be the best if I leave.
"I think I should go." I give her a tight-lipped smile. "We will probably see each other, I think, hopefully, we will."
"Probably."
With that, I leave her standing and staring at my silhouette before she goes back inside the store.
***
"Did you get everything you need?" Arnold asks me. "Yeah, what have you got there?"
I nod. I undo the packaging from the top of my sandwich and take a big bite out of it.
"Let's go home," I speak through bites of food. "I need to get home. Everyone must be waiting for me."
"They sure are, son."
"Are you sure you haven't noticed anything unusual since the news broke out?" I lick my lower lip because some of the mayo spills out. "Anything out of the ordinary? Someone behaving funny or acting out of their everyday normal behaviour?"
"I have only noticed Margarethe not coming in since the morning when I dialled her and told her that your dad is gone." He sighs. "She was at your residence, but soon she left the property and hasn't come back in since." He stares at the road in front of him as he puts the car in drive. "I have to call in and check on her. It must have been hard for her. They are-were good friends, and they trusted each other with almost everything."
His words run through my head.
They trusted each other with almost everything.
Is she the missing piece of this puzzle?
Do I need to go and have a talk with her?
"Can you go and pick her up once you drop me at home?" I breathe out a sigh of anxiety and dread. "I want to talk to her. I think she might know what business my dad had that night when he left to deal with things by himself."
"Of course, Nev." He nods. "I'll go bring her home when I'm done with you."
"Thanks."
"Do you want me to put on some music?"
"No."
Arnold changes lanes again at the next freeway exit, and I see something surreal in the rear-view mirror on the side of the car, and it leaves me gasping for breath. The scene is so out of the normal on the streets of Denver that I wonder if I'm seeing things correctly.
Am I losing my mind?
From what I can see, I see two wolves of considerable size--since they can't be dogs because dogs aren't that huge with those beady piercing eyes--staring back at me, with their giant forelimbs risen off the ground out of fearlessness from the side corner of the street. They gaze at me for a minute, challenging me, making me stare back at them with a strange expression on my face, then they disappear behind the trees on the side of the road as large trees give way to a looming forest not far from where we are. No one sees them. Nothing lurks out of the ordinary because I don't see people stopping in traffic and honking their horns at them. It's so freakishly weird.
I wonder if I'm dreaming or if this is my exhaustion catching up with me. I'm seeing things now. The plane ride was long, and I didn't sleep much because of the hangover and the turbulence in the air when we crossed the pacific ocean. The uneasy feeling settles back in my stomach. There's a shrill-pitched ringing rising in my ear as the night starts to fall all over the sky.
There's something that catches my eye, though.
The wolves that I just saw had almost golden glimmering eyes, and it sets off a crucial memory in the back of my mind. Some parts of that foggy night I had lost immediately comes back to me.
The forest grove. A row of large wild birch trees. A man running through the woods next to a silent lake. Blood glides all over his body. The grass where he walks is painted with blood as he meanders through the bushes with a limp. Then a sharp, agonising, numbing pain overtakes his body as he falls to the ground.
The sharp pitched noise gets louder in my head, and I put my head in both of my hands to try to concentrate on the image that I'm seeing. I try to force the memory before my eyes so I can see it clearly.
The noise only gets louder.
One, two, three, four, five. . .
Then I see a large white wolf howling at the moon and running across the copse, his snout covered with blood and his eyes a golden-honey colour that shimmers under the inky black sky. He runs around in pain and dread as darkness rages within him.
And just like that, the memory fades away when I see Arnold staring at me through the front rear-view mirror.
"Did you call Jean?" he asks. "He was really worried about you. And he wants you to call him right now. I just got a text from him."
"All right." I sigh. "I will call him."
I put my gaze back on the street as I keep seeing those golden-honey eyes shimmering everywhere from behind the trees as we drive home.
AMELIAWhat is wrong with him?Was I too harsh?Maybe I was.I shouldn't have said those things to him.I don't know what came over me."Get those frozen foods in aisle five cleaned up," Larry speaks into the small bluetooth that he has us wear at work. I have gotten so used to zoning out his voice half of the time I don't even realise I'm wearing it. "Why don't you take this, Amelia?"I roll my eyes.Of course, I would. The supervisor guy wants to punish me for what I said to the customer that came in earlier. What was I supposed to say anyway when the customer was the one who came in my way? I haven't gone out of my way to make things harder for anyone other than me since I started to work here.Argh.I sure hate working here.The things I make myself do for money.At least that guy wasn't all that bad.Maybe I had him pegged all wrong.He could have acted way worse, but he didn't.He was non-threatening in every way possible, but I still had to be cautious in my decisions."Clean u
AMELIA "Can I get that bag of macaroni?" A woman's voice comes from behind me as I stack yet another shelf with inventory sitting in the foreground of the front office since yesterday. Heck, Larry and his annoying declaration that he would get the inventory done all by himself after work hours last night was far from the truth. I knew he wouldn't be able to finish the job. He's just all talk and no walk. "Is there another one available in the store that's made with something like whole grains? I have been looking all over the store for bran or gluten-free or multi-grain pasta, but I can't find it. My husband does the shopping often, so I'm quite lost." The woman's awkward chuckle after her statement makes me feel bad for her. "I have made the resolution this year to avoid gluten as much as possible, so I am trying to cut back on it." As I push another bag of cookies onto the shelf, I step back. "Let me help you." As I pivot on my feet, I come face to face with someone familiar. To
NEVILLE The pain stays in my heart. I don't care for the funeral much, even though the pastor wants me to commit to my dad's final services. As much as he knew my father, he always told him he wanted the last day of his life on earth to be a celebration. My father's idea of a wake was something that resembles a happy gathering: being surrounded by close family and friends and bade farewell to all that he did on this earth with good music. Whenever my dad would bring up something like passing away in his conversations--I would mostly mum him out. We would never willingly discuss how things would be like when he was gone. My dad thought he knew the happy wake was the best choice, and he confided in our pastor about how things should look like after he was gone. So now I'm dealing with this unknown man here in my house who is trying to realise my dad's last wishes. According to the pastor who won't leave me alone, my dad was a pure man at heart. The man that the pastor knew wanted us t
AMELIAI pace through the library door, pushing the newly borrowed book I was reading earlier into my bookbag. I know I have to walk home tonight since there's nothing much I can do. There's something wrong with the fuel tank in my car, and I can't get it fixed till they pay me by the end of this month.The car I drive right now is an old second-hand Chevy Cavalier, from the nineties, and it breaks down every other month. With all the bills racking up in my life, I have made my peace with it not working on some days, and I'm grateful for the days when it does decide to work.Otherwise, I'm okay with walking.It's obviously good for my health.Walking every day keeps the monsters at bay.Fine, I'll stop with the wisecracks.My run from the pharmacy after work to the hospital was a quick one. Some part of me thought if I paced to the library as if my life depended on it, there would be new stuff for me to read tonight. I badly need the escape that books bring into my life.Also, I had
NEVILLEAnother series of knocks at my door manifests itself, and I hide the envelope that my dad left me inside one of the old books in my bookcase. It's a safe space, and I know no one will look for it there. Part of me is dying to read what's inside, but part of me isn't ready to face what my dad wants to tell me. It has to be something important. I know it.I release my head from my hands as I get up from the edge of the bed and make my way to the door.Who wants to talk to me now?"Who is it?""Son, you can't hide in your room for the entire night." It's Jean's voice that I can hear as clear as day. "There are so many people downstairs who want to pay their respects to you and your family. And they can't do it if you are sitting scared inside the comfort of your room for the rest of the night." His voice is soft and mellow. "Some of them have driven hours just to see you because they aren't sure if they will be seeing you again.""I'm not going anywhere, Jean." My breath comes ou
NEVILLENot only the night is young, but I am also not even that sleepy. The people who came to this impromptu gathering have started thinning out. I didn't realise Jean could organise something like this so-called wake and turn it into a glamorous party that I'm sure will be whispered about in the days to come. I won't be surprised if a part of the night gets featured in the papers tomorrow. Nobody is more surprised at my ability to deal with so many people from such diverse backgrounds in life, successfully entertain them and send them home happily at the end of the evening.My eyes find that some people are saying their goodbyes in the front garden, so I gesture to Arnold to help them find their vehicles and lead them to their cars because two of the people in the group appear to be really drunk.Arnold moves to their aid, and I watch a woman get into a verbal fight with her husband or the man she came to attend the party along with earlier. I think he was her ex-fiance since Jean
AMELIAI wake up with a loud bang on my door. Feeling restless, I turn and shift into my bed to locate the source of the commotion as I pull the pillow over my head. I'm still heady, and I badly want to stay asleep.It took me a while to fall asleep last night, and it can't be morning just yet. I hope it is not, and everything falls quiet for a moment.The banging on the door returns, and I slowly lift my lids to see what time it is.My eyes fall on the bedside window, and I see that it's an hour before dawn. As I reposition my weight on my elbows to look at what's happening outside, wondering who wants to see me at this inappropriate time or thinking there might be a wild animal digging for food in my yard, I tip my head over my shoulder. The window looks over at the street. I don't see anyone as I wait and wait for someone to appear out of the bushes. When I gaze upwards into the dark night, I strain my eyes hard to see a giant explosion of green light illuminating the sky.Then the
NEVILLEThe man in front of me taps his pen on the table. I can't handle the noise it makes when it hits the edge of the hard surface. The shudder runs through the back of my skull, and I close my eyes. The man in front of me wants me to sign some papers that will help him pay for the funeral bills and apply for my father's death certificate.I didn't want to come to the funeral home, but I'm here against my will. The room is eerily silent, and pacing footsteps stepping against the hardwood floor is the only noise in the vicinity. It leaves me feeling anxious, and my stomach turns up into knots.The man in front of me speaks."Neville, first of all, I'm so sorry about your father." He offers me his hand, and I take it. "I'm so sorry about your loss. May he rest in peace."I nod."Thanks," I whisper under my breath. "My dad was a good man.""He sure was, young man." The man moves the papers towards me. "I want you to sign these papers, and this will officially release the body to the c