Power Part 6

It was 4:50 and I was trying very hard not to pace. It had been all I could do to get through my classes and walk to the west end of the NYU library without totally freaking out. Luckily Friday's were my day off. I would have been a danger to myself and others on the road, distracted as I was.

Autumn had called around 11 saying that the associates had been informed they'd be working well into the night on a new case, and could I meet her for lunch instead. Given my current mental state, I sincerely wished I could have had our first date with the weight of whatever this evening meeting was off my shoulders. I considered though, that I may be just as much of an emotional mess tonight as I was currently, depending on the fallout. Plus, under Autumn's laid back demeanor, I could pick up the slightest bit of strain. It was as if she was holding her breath, hoping I'd agree to the change. It was hard to resist that.

I agreed to meet her at Ernie's in an hour and could hear an audible sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. I'd have to skip out on my Humanities class, but she didn't need to know that.

I locked up my bike and stood up to spot Autumn walking towards me from the opposite direction. She wore a grey skirt, a white V-neck shirt, and matching suit jacket, that, unbuttoned was flapping behind her as she walked. She walked at a pace I found truly admirable since she also wore what easily looked like three inch red heels. I found myself a bit dizzy and fought hard to remain collected, although I'm pretty sure the stupid grin on my face gave me away.

She reached me with only a slight catch to her breath like she had run part of the way. I had tried to pick a place close to her knowing how busy she was. I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek politely. "You look pretty." Mentally I smacked myself upside the head. Sometimes I struggle to not say the first things that come to mind. I worried I sounded like a lovestruck 12 year old. She beamed at the compliment and hooked her arm into mine. "Weird. I was going to say the exact thing to you, Daniels."

"Well, I did use conditioner today."

We ordered our sandwiches and talked comfortably for an hour. I had debated the whole way over here if I should tell her about my meeting that evening. Talking to her last night about the whole thing had removed the weight of the world off my shoulders, but it didn't change the fact that I didn't really know her. What if this really was a dangerous situation and I was just carelessly implicating her because I liked talking to her. The level of secrecy was starting to imply that there was much more to this than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I stayed up half the night reeling at the implications that my dad was now more than likely involved in whatever this was. By the time I arrived I had convinced myself not to mention it until I knew more.

"So what's the latest?" She asked me as she popped the last of her sandwich into her mouth.

"The latest on what?" I did my best to seem confused at her question and then took a long swallow of my drink.

Autumn shook her head and laughed. Her shoulder length hair catching the light from the window each time she did. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the whole mystery package that almost got you killed the other day, long rides in dark cars with strange men, your father coming back from a decade of abandonment?" She waved her hands around as emphasis and was looking at me expectantly.

"Oh, right, that." I cleared my throat and tried to look as casual and uninterested as I could for someone who had a clandestine rendezvou planned in a few hours with a long lost father. "There's really nothing more I can do until someone contacts me. I'm assuming I'll hear from Mr.Liam at some point and finally have more to go." I shrugged and inwardly patted myself on the back for a convincing performance. I certainly wanted to sit here and tell her everything. She had possibly saved my life. The least I could do was return the favor, even if it meant lying to her to do it. I looked up to meet a raised eyebrow and a smile playing around the corner of her lips.

"What's so funny?"

"You." she said and dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

"Um, well, thanks. Did I just make a joke?"

"In a way." She gathered up her briefcase and slung the strap of it across her body. She fished around for her wallet before I placed a hand on hers. I quickly got out my wallet and threw more than enough money for the both of us and a generous tip. The best tippers are usually those who themselves are in the service industry, if for no other reason but principle.


"Please, my treat." I said, feeling as if something had changed in the last two minutes. She sat back and crossed her arms loosely across her chest and just looked at me.

"Am I being unknowingly funny again?" I asked, attempting to keep things light.

"Scott. You do know what I do for a living, right?"

"Of course..." I drew the phrase out slowly in attempts to catch up quickly to her train of thought.

"Then you know I know you're hiding something from me right now, right?"

"What? I, uh, what do you mean?" Her eyes, a warm amber color were suddenly different. Her jaw was drawn tight and her chin tilted. I realized in an instant that the inner lawyer was being released and I had an irrational desire to shout, "Objection, badgering the witness!"

"It's okay Scott," she placed a hand on mine and in an instant her eyes were soft again. I imagined she probably didn't even recognize when she crossed over instinctively into her defense attorney persona, "I'm sorry. I'm working too many hours right now. It's a hazard of the job to want to cross examine. If you have things you don't want to share, you don't have to. You just met me. I get it." she smiled and I couldn't help but do it back.

"Let's get out of here." I told her and offered her a hand.

The air felt warm and humid with an impending storm. I loved the smell of the city when it rained. I just hoped it would hold off until I got back to campus. A breeze picked up the ends of Autumn's hair and whipped them casually across her face. Impulsively, without much forethought I swept them and tucked them behind her ear. I hadn't even realized I'd done it until I pulled my hand away and noticed the slight blush to her cheeks. I had a queer feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't seem to reconcile. I was happy being here in this moment. The city air smelling heavy of iron. There was a breeze warm enough to still be summer, but cool enough to tease of Fall. It was one of those moments that felt spell-like in nature, and the knot in my gut was the only thing threatening to break it.
I knew rationally that it was this illusive meeting that clouded my good mood with anxiety and stress. Irrationally though, a thought flashed unwillingly across my mind. I wanted this exact moment with someone else. I buried it as fast as it came and let a wave of self loathing float up and over me. Autumn was amazing. Smart, beautiful, funny, straightforward. She had been there for me more than once and I owed her a real try and whatever this was.

I felt a hand on my arm and realized it had been there a few moments before I noticed it.

"Where did you go?" Autumn's voice was a mixture of confusion and amusement.

"I'm sorry, what?" the spell was broken as New Yorkers pushed past the two of us like a couple of stones in a rushing creek.

"You were a million miles away just now. You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"I'm sure. I know I haven't given you this impression, but you don't actually need to worry about me." I gave my best effort at being casual. She raised an eyebrow with an expression that was somewhere between amused and irritated, but ultimately lifted onto her tip toes and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I watched her hurry off to join the mob of people crossing at the light. As she made her way back to the office, the knot in my stomach eased a bit. I knew she was disappointed in my secrecy, but my instincts had told me to hold back, and I had come to trust them implicitly over the years.
The sky opened up and the rain started to fall halfway back to campus. I pulled the hood up on my jacket, but was still soaked to the bone by the time I arrived at the Library. Normally I would have cursed my bad luck, but today was the farthest from normal I had been in a long time. My heart beat oddly in my chest, and I felt numb to the cold clothes clinging to my body. I tried to maintain the same level of detachment that had helped me cope to this point. I had created an empty room in my mind, free of emotional embellishments. I would not let images of an overjoyed Riley start to clutter my mind with expectations. There was no room at the inn for thoughts of warm embraces, tears, and acceptable apologies and explanations. A decade he had been gone. Gone without an explanation or remorse. I would not entertain any notions of goodwill.
I could not tell if I wanted time to speed up or slow down, but ultimately the time passed. My clothes had dried a reasonable amount, but my jeans crunched stiffly as I paced back and forth. The note hadn't specified a location other than the West end of the Law Library so I had to assume that I would be approached. I compared my watch to the giant clock that loomed above the checkout desk. 5:05. If he thinks he can keep me waiting, he'll find out just how little he knows me, I thought angrily to myself. At 5:15 I grabbed my backpack and slung it across my body in disgust. Enough.
I took long purposeful strides around the wide tables and out the door. I turned in the direction of the bike racks and ran smack into what I quickly gathered to be another student. He carried a large stack of books, with pieces of notepaper sticking out in a haphazard fashion. Freshman. I'd bet my lunch money. I rolled my eyes a bit, but bent down and helped him gather up his things.
"Sorry man, I was in a hurry. You got everything?"
I put one final notebook on top of his precarious stack and brushed off the knees of my jeans.
"Thesis paper dude, and it's like, so due." He was a little shorter than me, with that crazy bedhead look that I guess was the latest thing. He reminded me more of Keanu Reaves in Bill and Ted. I absently ran a hand through my own crew cut and mustered up a friendly wave despite my dark mood. "Good luck with that."
I started off again when he called out from behind me, "Hey, dude, you Scott Daniels?" He couldn't have startled me more if he had just announced I'd won the lottery.
I knew distrust colored my expression as I turned slowly to face him again. He raised his free hand in a gesture of peace, "Hey man, no worries," he reached slowly with his free hand to his back pocket, still balancing his precarious load of books with the other. He handed me a sealed envelope and shrugged his shoulders. "Some dude handed it to me, told me what you looked like and gave me good money to deliver it."
"Who are you?" I asked accusingly.
"My friends call me Berkley, man."
He seemed harmless.
"How long ago?" I asked, my heart pumping wildly now.
"I dunno. People have called me that as long as I can remember--"
"Not how long you've had your name--" I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind my eyes, and I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Berkely is it? Focus, okay? How long ago were you given this note?"
"Oh, right. Five minutes ago? Said you would be tall, brown hair, and probably look ticked off. You're three for three bro!" He gave a goofy grin and raised his hand in a high five gesture. I ignored it but he didn't seem offended. I couldn't possibly imagine what the content would be for his thesis paper.
I grabbed the envelope from him, "What did he look like? This guy?"
"Oh the dude?" Berkley scratched his head and I noticed the glint of an eyebrow ring.
"He was tall, dark hair, dark eyes. He was real quick like. Didn't get a hard look at him. But like I always say: a guy gives you a hundred bucks to give a note to some dude, you do it. That's alot of Taco Bell, you feel me?"
"Uh. Sure. I feel you." I had a death grip on my patience, but it was slipping.
"How old would you say he was?"
Berkley shifted his load of books to his other arm and I could tell he wanted to be on his way.
"Maybe fourtyish?" he offered, and I could tell he was being mentally taxed right now.
"Okay, thank you for your help."
"No prob dude." He seemed relieved to be released from his errand and I suppose I couldn't blame him. I was about to tear into the envelope when I heard Berkley stop short and call out to me.
"Oh wait, dude! I remember something about him! He, uh, had a scar. Yeah, I remember it now 'cuz it was on his eyebrow so there was no hair where the scar was. That help?"
I swallowed hard over a knot that had formed in my throat.
"It does actually. Thank you." I said each word with an effort. Berkley shook his head triumphantly, "Awesome. Take it easy." and with that he sauntered into the library. I walked over to the steps and sat down, pulling the letter through my fingers thoughtfully. Lots of people were tall dark and fourtyish. Not many had a small distinctive scar on their eyebrow. My dad did. A cut he got playing sports when he was a kid. Why didn't he come find me himself? Was he that much of a coward? He needed me somehow, that was certain, but he still had no desire to see me. The knowledge of that left a pain in my stomach like I'd been sucker punched. I ripped the letter open with a fresh batch of loathing for the man. By the third time reading it, I finally registered the words through my anger.

Frank,

You are in danger. Trust Mr. Liam. No one else. Whatever he asks of you, or tells you, you must believe it. I hope for all to be made clear to you soon and from the depths of my heart I am sorry. Maybe one day I can make up for the hurt I have caused, but these may be the desires of a foolish old man. I know you do not trust me, but I trust you. Wait for further instruction. Destroy this immediately.

-D

After I was quite sure I could repeat the letter verbatim, I crumbled the letter and asked a passing student for a light. I lit the paper by the corner and ignored the weird glance as the boy re-pocketed the lighter and walked away. I watched the small ball of paper turn to ash at my feet. I had never felt more confused in all my life. My dad had been an accountant for crying out loud. He wore a suit day in and day out. He had his busy season of course, but for the most part he worked 9-5. Coached my little league. Now he was sending me cryptic letters like he was in the CIA or something. The wheels in my brain caught ahold of that thought and mulled it over. You always see the movies, or read the books of these seemingly ordinary people living these double lives. Was it even possible? It seemed unlikely. My dad hated guns, hated violence. The thought of him trading in his briefcase and calculator each morning for a secret mission and loaded semi automatic made me laugh out loud despite my mood. No. I couldn't explain what was happening, but secret agent didn't even make the long list. I stood up and headed for my bike. If I hurried, I could make the 630 ferry, knowing full well where I wanted to go.

Beth Ann's Word: Power, Part 5

I found myself standing in the middle of the kitchen with no recollection of how I got there. I felt here, but not here. I must have walked up the steps, must have retrieved my keys, must have put my things down, but the memory of doing them was gone.
I realized I felt exactly as I had once, years ago, when we couldn't find Riley. I don't know how long he had been gone before we noticed he wasn't around but suddenly he just wasn't there. I remember that creepy crawly feeling of goose flesh go up and down my entire body as I ran from room to room. Mom and Dad shouting his name, then yelling it, then screaming it. We could feel each other's panic like we had all grabbed a hold of a live wire. I looked in closets and behind doors. Even opened cupboards and drawers in that insane way you do when panic and fear take over and you can't make sense of things. I just wanted to find him because I didn't want to feel this way anymore. The longer it went on without finding him the more it felt like my head was floating away from my body. I felt cold and hot at the same time. It was an effort to catch enough breath as if my lungs were shrinking with every passing minute.
When we found him two blocks over, watching a construction crew fixing potholes he didn't know what all the fuss was about. To him, he hadn't been lost. He'd been right there. In the instant we found him, my pain vanished instantly. Like seeing a vase break and then having it played back in reverse. I was instantly whole again. Mom had taken turns hugging the life out of him and pulling away to scold him, "Never ever scare me like that again!" I knew exactly what she had meant. I would have traded just about anything in the world to never again, feel that kind of fear and helplessness.

I would trade anything again now. I needed to feel right in my own skin again. My heart felt too fast in my chest and breathing seemed like a chore instead of automatic. I went to the refrigerator and opened it, trying to find normalcy again in studying the contents. I couldn't focus. I walked into the living room and listened for signs of life. I could hear Riley's music as a dull thud of bass and lyrics through the barrier of his bedroom door. The TV in the living room was on, but muted the way Mom always did when trying to sleep after her shift. To just look at our home, you would never guess at the inner dysfunction. The house was small but kept in amazing order. My mother went through different swings of compulsions. Sometimes it was the cleanliness of the house, and others, it was how many wine bottles she could go through. Her decent to this broken state was a slow and painful one. I don't think any of us knew the extent of her pain and depression until even a couple of years ago. Maybe it's the way someone doesn't notice they've gained 50 pounds until they actually see a picture of themselves. It's a harsh snap into reality when the cushions of denial and pretense are stripped away from you in an instant.

A couple of years ago, I had been in class when the McDermott's, who had been friends and neighbors for years, called my cell phone one afternoon. I needed to get home immediately they had said. Mom had been a teacher for 20 years. She had shown up that day to school drunk. She had been sent home, suspended without pay and had gone to the local bar to drown her misery and anger. Hours later she arrived home by way of taxi (thank goodness) and now the McDermott's and another set of neighbors, the Henry's, were trying to reason her out of the middle of the street. She'd sat down in the middle of the road, inconsolable. Anyone who tried to come near her was met with immeasurable rage. She'd apparently scream and yell Leslie's name, and my father's, among other things, for the better part of an hour. How she just wanted to rest. Just wanted some peace. By the time I had made it home, the police were outside my home as well as what seemed like the entire block. Mom was sitting on the curb with what looked like a man's winter coat wrapped around her shoulders. Mrs. McDermott rubbing her back as if she were comforting a small child.

I had immediately gone to speak to one of the police officers to be assured that Riley was OK. He was. He was inside with Mrs. Henry, but he had been asking for me. They had responded to a call for a Drunk and Disorderly, but everyone seemed to be unharmed. When Mom saw me, any calm she had previously achieved erupted into sobs as she called my name. "Scott! Oh Scott! I'm so sorry! Can you forgive me? Can you ever, ever forgive me?!" She had thrown her small frame into me and clung for dear life. The sorrow in her voice as she begged for forgiveness led me to know she wasn't just seeking absolution for the current day events. I had instantly wrapped my arms around her and rocked her ever so slightly back and forth reassuring her over and over.

"Of course Mom. No one blames you. No one is mad at you, okay?"

Over her head, I glimpsed the glances of the spectators around me. Some were looks of pity, others contempt. Our dirty laundry seemed to have been strewn about 27th street. It took a great deal of pride swallowing, to hold our heads up high and thank those who had helped. Everyone else could go back to their homes. Eat dinner and discuss poor, crazy Mrs. Daniels over pot roast while the three of us attempted to adjust to our new reality.

I walked over to the couch and watched her a minute while she slept. I did my quick checklist. Was she breathing, how well, had she been drinking? A empty wine glass and an empty bottle were placed neatly on the side table. Her waitress uniform didn't even look wrinkled despite falling asleep in it. Her brown hair was pulled neatly away from her face, and only in the glow of the TV, and just at the right angle could you make out a few strands of gray. It was when she slept that her face reminded me of the one from my early childhood. During the waking hours she seemed to have a permanent line of worry in between her eyebrows, and her mouth was always turned down at the corners. At rest, she finally relaxed and you could almost imagine her smiling as she once did in a different life.

She had eventually been fired from her teaching position but I think it had been a relief to her. Once upon a time she had been a highly respected, organized, thoughtful and sought after high school teacher. Over the last ten years she had slowly been tortured by her own personal demons. She no longer had the mental or physical strength to be in charge of anyone but herself. And even that was taxing at times.

I pulled the Afghan blanket off the back of the couch and tucked her in for the night as I often did. I took the wine bottle to the trash and rinsed the wine glass and set it on the counter. My heart rate felt more steady although I could still feel a knot under my sternum. I knew I wasn't in the safe zone yet to let my guard down and think of Mr. Liam's last remark. I work for you father. And now, so do you.

I knocked on Riley's door. When there was no response, I continued to knock, while opening it slowly. Riley was laying on his bed with giant headphones on, drawing something in his sketchbook. He noticed me suddenly and yanked the headphones off.

"Hey Scott, when did you get home?" He was such a good kid. Most fifteen year olds who hadn't been through what he had, would be punks, mad at the world. Riley was just the opposite. It's like he had this perpetual optimism. Bad things happened, but people and life in general were good. A part of me always felt like he understood our mother better than I did. As horribly as she was handling her grief, I think he understood it better than most because if anyone missed Leslie more than Mom, it was him.

"Just a few minutes ago. Your homework done?"

"Yup."

"You take your trash out?"

"Roger that."

"Did you figure out a ride for this weekend? Deb mentioned last week she could help you out if you needed it." I asked these questions as a chance to talk to him. Riley was more responsible than most adults.

"Chris's mom is taking us to the lake and Blake's Dad is going to bring us home."

"Hmm...well, looks like you have everything covered. Anything I can do? Feeling pretty useless when it comes to you."

Riley scrunched up his lips and eyebrows in deep thought. "You can give me back my Shins CD sometime this century. That would be helpful." He looked up at me with a big dumb grin on his face. Even when he was trying to be bratty, he couldn't quite pull it off.

"No promises slacker." I smiled back and tapped his door with my hand as I was leaving. "Don't stay up too late."

"Scott?" Riley called out just as I had turned my back to leave.
"Yeah?"
"You okay? You seem, I dunno know, anxious."

Riley was too perceptive for his own good. I could have told him about what happened today. I even kind of wanted to. It would feel good to unburden myself. Sometimes I just felt like even though he could handle something, didn't necessarily mean he should. He has had to grow up so fast. I wanted him to be as much of a kid as I could create for him.

Besides, he'd just worry about me and I wasn't even sure what the magnitude of the situation was yet. There was no way I was telling him about Mr. Liam mentioning a connection to our Dad. Until I understood the situation myself, I'd only give him false hope. Riley always thought Dad would be back. Like he was just on a long exciting business trip. I knew it was a coping mechanism but I would be the last person who would try and disassemble it.

"I'm fine bud. Just a long day, had to miss class because of some stuff at work." True enough I thought to myself.

Riley gave me a questioning look, but then shrugged and decided to believe me.

I closed the door softly behind me and made my way to my room. I dumped my bag and coat in the middle of the floor and fell face first onto my bed. Things I wasn't ready to think about were already dancing around the edges of my mind and I could feel my pulse quicken. I sat up, determined to face the facts of this thing head on. I rested my elbows on my knees and my head in between my hands and closed my eyes. Deb, I thought suddenly. I told her I would call her when I was home. I had given her enough of a scare for one day, I thought. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and hit her number on speed dial. She picked up on the second ring.

"Oh Scott, thank heavens! Who was that man in that car? I've never seen him before, how do you know him? Was he the police? A detective or something? Because he wasn't even driving a police car-- What are you saying Bob?!... I AM letting him talk!" I just held the phone to my ear and couldn't help smiling as I shook my head back and forth.

"I'm good Deb," I jumped in quickly. Deb talked when she was anxious. "He was a business associate. I deliver to him and he had some questions for me. I knew it was fine, I'm sorry if you worried." I didn't like all these half truths I seemed to be telling lately. I justified it to myself in that I only knew half truths myself. No reason to worry the people in my life until I actually knew what to worry them with.

"Oh. Okay, well that's a relief. There seem to be a look passed between you and Kylie that made me nervous." That was Deb. She didn't miss a beat.

"Nope. Everything is fine. Thanks for worrying about me. You know I love all the attention." She laughed at that.

"How is the family? You guys okay?" I asked, desperate to not talk about myself anymore.

"Oh we're good. A bit of drama around here. Kylie broke up with Lee." She said it casually but I knew her better than that. Her contained glee was like one of those cans full of rubber snakes just waiting for me to open it.
"I'm sorry she's upset. He was a jerk though. Good riddens I say." I could feel Deb beaming through the phone.
"I know, she says she--well, that's not my place. I'll let her tell you the story. You don't know, OK?"

I laughed into the phone. I could tell it was paining her to not give me the full scoop.

"Know what?"

"You're a good boy Scotty." she said.

"Night Deb." I clicked the phone shut and turned it over in my hands a few times thinking about Kylie. I shook my head as hopeful thoughts began to creep into my mind. She is not into you dude. Single or not. Don't torture yourself. I pushed the images in my mind to the far corners and decided quickly to make one more phone call. From my pocket I pulled Autumn's now somewhat creased business card and studied it. I looked at the Liam & Drees & Associates embossed in thick black ink and tried to not let it make me feel sick to my stomach. I had almost been back to the law office when those men stopped me. Made sense that she would be passing by that alley on her way to work. I just wanted as much distance from that place as possible. On the off chance that there was something that could come of our chance encounter...it just seemed like some kind of irony that I'd be sucked back into that place.

Before I lost my nerve I found myself punching in her cell number and hitting send. Her voice sounded upbeat on the other end, "Hello?"

"Um, yes, I was referred to you by Scott Daniels. I was looking for a bodyguard for hire?"

She laughed into the phone and the knot in my chest eased a bit. "You know, I would, but I already have this current client, and he's pretty high maintenance."

"Really?" I said.
"Yeah. Gets into trouble constantly. It would be scary to leave him alone to his own devices."

"Haha, funny girl!"

"How did the rest of your day go without me there to look after you?"

I started to form what was becoming my standard truth skirting response, when I suddenly didn't want to. For all intents and purposes, Autumn was a perfect stranger, with no real investment in me. My desire to not scare her off was fighting intensely with my increasing need to unburden myself.

"Scott? You okay?" she asked hesitantly. I didn't realize how long I must have mentally debated with myself.

"Yes, sorry. I think I'm just trying to decided how much danger and baggage you can dump on a new friend in one day before that person decides they'd prefer not to be your friend."

Autumn laughed easily and not nervously I noticed. That was a good sign.

"I'm a lawyer Scott. I promise you, however insane your life is right now, I've heard worse. Lay it on me."

And then I just did. From the beginning. How for weeks I've been feeling watched, Mr. Liam's mystery package and implications that I was now involved in something potentially dangerous. When I got to the part about my dad--actually said it out loud--I felt my voice catch and stopped short, trying to collect myself.

There was a brief silence and then a "Wow."

I felt relief start to seep into my bones as I recognized her "Wow" as a "Wow, that is some story" and not a "Wow, you are crazy."

"I know right? This will teach you to go around saving people now won't it?"

"Scott this is incredible. I mean, kind of scary too, but, if Mr. Liam wanted to hurt you he would have already done it, don't you think?"

"Well, there were witness seeing me getting into his car today. Maybe he's just biding his time." I half joked.

"I don't know. I've worked for his firm for a year now and he just seems like the most normal man. I don't think he could be involved in anything too crazy. There are too many Associates. Too many ears. If something big was going down, people would know."

"Yeah, well, that seemed to be a big motivation this morning in having me be the person to deliver these GPS coordinates. So maybe he's really gone to enormous lengths to keep it under lock and key."

"Did he tell you where these coordinates led to?"

I laughed but there was no humor to it. "Oh I asked him that. Told me if he did, someone would kill me over it."

"Oh. Right." I could almost hear the wheels in Autumn's head turning over the phone line. I had to admit. It felt great to get this whole crazy thing out in the open. Having her not totally freak out was helping me to not totally freak out. Almost like this kind of stuff happened everyday.

"Do you really think your Dad is involved? After all this time?" I could tell she was asking carefully, not knowing my feelings about him after years of abandonment.

"What I think is that it wouldn't really shock me that after all this time, he might need a favor and wouldn't think twice to use me. It would seem to be consistent with his level of selfishness." Even I was surprised by the amount of bitterness in my voice.

"How long has he been gone?" she asked quietly.

"Eleven years. Since I was nine. Riley was almost five. I remember it had been a great day right before too. He had taken me and Riley to Coney Island. He won this stuffed Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle at that Jars game. Riley still has it in his room. We got home after dark, but Dad played catch with us in the street until late. And then we got to stay up even later and watch an old black and white movie on TV with him. Revenge of the Killer Tomatoes. So crazy the things your brain chooses to remember." I said the last part almost more to myself.

"Wish I could forget." I said after some silence. Autumn was a good listener. I hadn't spoken of this in years, and now I couldn't stop talking.

"The next morning I woke up on the couch with Riley next to me. I heard Mom and Dad fighting in their room, which had been par for the course since our sister Leslie died six months earlier. He came out dressed for work a little while later. Kissed us and ran out the door like he was late. Never saw him again. When I was thirteen my Mom showed me a letter he'd written. Thought I was old enough to understand it then I guess."

"What did it say?" Autumn with the same gentleness.

"Oh the same bull crap that all abandoners say. I'm not good enough for you right now..you're better off if I leave..causing you all too much pain...blah blah blah. Basically it's too hard to man-up and support you right now, and your pain just makes me feel bad about myself so I'd rather not be around any of you."

"Amen to that!" Autumn agreed and I found myself laughing despite the low mood that had started to form in recalling it all.

"It's his loss," she continued. "in his weakness, he gave up knowing that he has an incredible son, and that's on him." she said it with such genuineness, I found it hard to believe we had just met.

"Thanks for listening to it all. It's a bit much for a phone call simply intended to ask you out."

"Well, then, get to that part already."

Man this girl was cool.

"Tomorrow night. Julio's on Third Avenue, you free around seven?"

"Yes, but I'll be coming right from work, can I meet you there?"

"Sounds great. I'll be the one not getting mugged, in case that makes it easier for you to spot me."

I hung up the phone with a genuine smile on my face. For the first time that day I felt...lighter. Not burdened with bad desicisons, or the mess I was trying to get myself out of. Not even with my past and the possiblity of my long lost father somehow using me. Funny how a girl can make the worst of days suddenly seem decent. It's like they have magic powers or something.

I walked to the hall bathroom that Riley and I shared to take a shower. It would feel good to have the last bit of this day off of me. I grabbed a towel and made a conscience effort to think about tomorrow night and none of what Mr. Liam had said in the car.

But it was not to be. Upon walking into the bathroom I saw a piece of paper taped to the mirror and every instinct in my body shouted at me that it wasn't a friendly note from Riley or my Mom. I was suprised that my hand was steady as I took it off and opened it. My heart was thudding in my throat.

Frank,

Tomorrow. NYU Library. West end, 5pm. Wait for instructions.

The thudding went from my throat, to my ears, even behind my eyes. I dropped the note in the sink as I needed to hold onto it with both hands. Any emotional distance that I had put between this whole situation and news of my father being involved was coming together at a crushing speed. When I was five I had an alter ego. I was a Jedi-Cowboy who fought valiently against aliens and girls. When in character I reacted strongly if my family would try and call me Scott. I was Frank Boba Fett Skywalker. There are only three people left in the world who would know that. My dad, Jeffrey Daniels, being one of them.

Quick Note

***I accidentally referred to Mr. Liam as Mr. Drees in the latest segement. For those of you who may not have read it yet, I have fixed it. For those who have, just know that the man in the car with Scott was Mr. Liam, not Mr. Drees. Almost done with the next segement, thanks for hanging with me!

Power Part 4

A deer caught in headlights. I knew that was how I must look to him, but couldn't seem to make my expression change in the slightest. I had climbed in and sat opposite Mr. Liam and vaguely noticed the uniformed driver in front. That was five minutes ago. He hadn't spoken, and while what happened earlier this morning wasn't my fault, I wasn't exactly feeling blameless. My stomach twisted in an uncomfortable acknowledgment of guilt, and I felt my face flush with anxiety. I should never have taken that package to begin with. Not that he had really given me much choice. He had all but forced it on me and shoved me out of his office. Yes, I got mugged and robbed of only that, and for that I just felt stupid.

Bottom line was that I had walked out of his office with package in hand because I had debated. The money had been tempting. Such a simple task it had seemed. What harm could there really be? I made a choking noise in my throat as I thought about that. Note to self: If I ever have to ask that question again, run as fast and as far as I can in the opposite direction.

"Something amusing Mr. Daniels?" Mr. Liam finally seemed to break what I could only guess was the silent treatment. Something about his formal and cold demeanor was seriously rubbing me the wrong way. Whatever the wrong on my part, this guy was a jerk. Who was he to treat me like I was a kid being picked up early because I got caught smoking pot in the school bathrooms or something? My temper had a long fuse, but it had been a long day and I felt the flame getting close. This guy better not press his luck any more today; I was from Brooklyn for crying out loud. Enough already.

"Amusing? Um, which part do you think I'd find amusing in all this? The part where you force some super secret package on me even when I tell you it's against the rules? Or wait, maybe you think it's the part where I go to your office to give it back to you, only to get mugged and slightly concussed for my troubles. No, wait, I know! The amusing part is because of this mess, I'm out an entire days wages. But instead of salvaging this wreck of a day with a homemade meal, I've been all but kidnapped with absolutely no idea what it is you want me to say. Yeah. I find all of it friggen hilarious." I felt my heart racing in my chest, but managed to keep my words clipped and coherent. Mr. Liam brought his hand to his mouth and rubbed his lips distractedly but I could have sworn for a second the corner of his mouth twitched.

He pulled his hand away to reveal a face devoid of humor. "Good. I'm glad we're on the same page here. I suppose things seemed a bit cloak and dagger this morning. You can appreciate now with a little more understanding my paranoia. My desire for secrecy." His clasped hands rested in between his knees. While still formal and pulled together, some of his exterior seemed to soften ever so slightly around the edges. Almost as if whatever this is or was, had become a burden he was tired of managing. Living your life in a constant state of putting out the latest crisis while holding it together for everyone that depended on you was something that I knew all too well. Something about his expression in that moment made me want to hate him a little less. Commiserate in our roles as the caretakers of other people's messes.

"Leslie. You had a sister who was killed when you were nine years old." I went from empathy to utter shock in a matter of seconds. His words felt like he had physically slapped me across the face, and I felt my head jerk back and then forward as if he had.

"Who...do you think you are?" I felt the flame reach the last bit of gunpowder. I could have sworn I actually heard the word Boom! in my head. I could feel my jaw working and spoke now through clenched teeth.

"It's not so much who I am, as it is who you are. The sooner you understand that, the safer off you'll be." Mr. Liam spoke as if unaffected by the unhinging of my temper.

My head was swimming. I could literally see flashes of red and blue at my peripheral vision. I was so angry, so confused. I could feel a nagging sorrow on the very edges of my patience, trying ever so slowly to invade. With years of practice I swallowed hard and made myself focus. I met Mr. Liam gaze for gaze and spoke only when I knew my voice would be steady.

"Leslie was my sister, yes. She died in a car accident when she was four, my mom was driving. To this day, she has never forgiven herself. The grief destroyed my family. My dad left us, my brother Riley, Leslie's twin, tries to put on a brave face every day like part of him isn't missing. I misspoke earlier. It's not so much that I don't know you, but that you don't know us. Don't speak of things to me that you don't understand and that to be blunt, are none of your business. I regret this whole day. I'm sorry that the package you gave me was taken. I'm sorry that I even took it in the first place. Whatever action you want to take against me, I'll handle. Please. Leave my family out of this," at that I could feel the grip on my control slipping ever so slightly and willed myself to hold it together.

"They have enough to deal with." was all I could think to add before sitting back in my seat, my gaze still fixed on his.

"I assure you I meant you no disrespect," his expression did look different. Slightly pained even. "I just need you to understand--"

"If you want me to understand so desperately, why don't you stop giving me weird anonymous packages to deliver with no explanation. Stop picking me up in cars with darkly tinted windows and speaking to me in code, and then talking to me about my dead sister as if you know me!" I shouted at him and could feel my fists tighten in response. Every fiber in my being knew I would feel a hundred times better if I could just clock this guy with a right hook.

"I assure you. Nothing I have done from the moment we met has been done lightly. Employing you this morning was not even my idea and completely against my better judgement. I knew you were too naive. Now I've a giant mess to clean up..." he trailed off and looked at a fixed spot out the window seeming to be momentarily lost in his own strange to do list.

"Well, thank you for going all cryptic again, but if it's all the same to you, I'm out."

"Out?" he echoed. He almost looked amused.

"Here," I said as I fished around in my messenger bag for my wallet. I pulled the still crisp hundred dollar bills out and shoved them towards him, so eager to be rid of it, it was a wonder it had ever been tempting. Mr. Liam put his hands up in a calming gesture indicating to put the money back where it came from. His expression just then stirred up a fuzzy memory from when I was young. It was my first baseball game and after striking out twice, I'd marched over to my dad and told him I didn't want to play baseball anymore. Dad had put his hands out just like that with a look that conveyed understanding mixed with a look of knowing things I didn't, but that I would see in time.
"You'll only get better if you keep at it." He had said to me then. It's hard right now because you've just started learning. If you quit now, you'll never know how good you could have been." With a pat on the shoulder he had sent me back to the dugout.

Mr. Liam's demeanor looked almost parental. Like he was needing to find a different way to explain things to a small child.

"Keep it. You've earned it with the day you've had today." He wasn't even looking at the money any more and I realized five hundred dollars was most likely petty cash to him. I thought about arguing further but suddenly felt like I hadn't slept in days. Fatigue began to swirl behind my eyes, and wearily I shoved the money back into my wallet. I leaned my head back against the leather headrest, resting my hands on my knees. I looked out the window for what seemed the first time, and realized where we were. The streets I had grown up on were coming into focus as I began to get my bearings of where we were. I should have been surprised that he knew where I lived without me telling him, but I simply wasn't. Whatever this was, it was bigger than just being asked on a whim by a casual business acquaintance to deliver a package. As we drove on in silence, my body felt heavy with exhaustion, but my mind felt wired. It felt as if I was being forced to view a painting from just a few inches away. I had a sense of bigger elements all around me, but all I could see was what I was immediately given. Without the full perspective, what I could see felt small and meaningless. What had he said earlier? The sooner I understood who I was, the safer I'd be? What was that even supposed to mean? I grabbed at a random thought buzzing past other thoughts at a hundred miles an hour in my brain, and blurted it out.

"What was in the package that was stolen?"

The car slowed and pulled in front of my house. The car in park, engine running, the driver pushed a button somewhere and a divider slid up, giving the illusion of privacy.

"A GPS navigation device." he said it so matter of fact I felt my mouth drop open a little in surprise.

"I got mugged for something you could pick up at any local electronics store?" I asked incredibly. Mr. Liam seemed to find that funny.

"I doubt the coordinates plugged into the one I gave you this morning, were also conveniently plugged into the ones at your local Radio Shack."

That bit of information shook me a little, but I quickly forged ahead with my questions. If he was explaining, the best thing I could do was keep up the momentum.

"Coordinates to where?"
"Well, now, Mr. Daniels. I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you."
"Be serious." I said rolling my eyes.

"Okay. I could tell you, but then someone else would probably kill you." I rolled my eyes again, but when I met his gaze this time there was no humor and a somberness around his eyes. I went to say something to that and ended up swallowing hard, pushing down a vague sense of panic that was rising in my gut. Ever so slowly I was backing up and getting a greater sense of the bigger picture. It hadn't ever occurred to me that what I'd end up seeing would be something life threatening.

"I think you need to tell me exactly what is going on here, and just how involved I am in whatever mess you've dragged me into." I leaned forward, my forearms bulging with that itch to hit something again.

"Not here son." And with that the conversation was over and I was being dismissed.

"Fine. Then where? And when?"

"I'll find you."

"Who are you? You are not a lawyer." I narrowed my gaze accusingly, watching his expression carefully. His eyebrows seemed to raise ever so slightly but ultimately he remained poised and calm as if I had just told him it might rain tomorrow.

"Well. We're just going to have to learn to trust each other, now won't we."

"Who do you work for? At least tell me that. Whoever employed you is in turn employing me. I have a right to know that." I had reached a dead end with his helpfulness but I couldn't help still pushing.

"Like I said, I'll find you. Not here--"

"Oh cut the crap! Like I'll even know who it is. Just give me a name, a company, something--you said I need to understand and yet you never explain yourself--"

"Jeffrey Daniels. I work for your father, Scott. And now, so do you."

I felt my face work through a myriad of emotions and it felt like a giant vacuum had emptied the car of air. With no outward reaction to the figurative bomb he had just placed in my lap, he reached around me and made quick work of the passenger side door. With a firm grip he indicated I was to leave, pushing on my elbow. A jumble of limbs and my belongings, I all but tumbled out onto the sidewalk in front of my house. The car pulled away from the curb, with just the answering click of the car door being slammed shut behind me.

Power, Part 3

I couldn't remember anything about the day that had made sense. The fact that I was now sitting on a hospital bed, in a curtained off section of the ER, with a perfect stranger glancing at me nervously made about as much sense as anything else right now. Autumn had followed the ambulance to the hospital, both things I had argued against. I didn't want to go the hospital, and I didn't want this poor girl to waste any more time on me today. She explained that she had never saved any one's life before, and couldn't seem to leave until she knew I'd be okay. It was perfectly nice, and totally humiliating. I had been checked in and taken in for an MRI immediately. So fast in fact, that I thought I might be able to get in and out and salvage my route. Class was out of the picture, but maybe I could still earn a few bucks and the day wouldn't be a total loss. I had now been sitting for two hours with an ice pack on my head, trying to make my helpful stranger feel less obligated.

"You know, Autumn, I feel fine. I may just walk out of here, myself." I had done little else but thank her profusely for the better part of two hours. Truth be told I felt a bit silly about the whole ordeal now.
"You have a huge bump on your head! What if you have internal bleeding or something like that? I would just like to wait and see what the doctor says before I go." She bit her lip in concern. She was cute.

"Do you have some sort of medical training to back up your knowledge of blunt force traumas?" She saw me smiling as I said it and she blushed. I was quickly finding myself torn between sending her on her way, and enjoying her company.

"Well, not exactly, but I think ten years of watching ER has to count for something, right?"

"You know you'd think it would? But if that really were the case, ten years of watching Law and Order would probably have kept me out of this mess to begin with." Teasing her was fun. She crossed her arms and sat back a little in her chair.
"Well, in the future retelling of how I heroically saved your life, I'd like to be able to tell the whole story."
"I think you may be playing fast and loose with the phrase 'saved your life.' " I said trying to be smug but finding her smile a bit distracting.
"Oh really?" She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "then what should I call it?"
"You called attention to a... rough situation." I said straight faced, trying to continue the playful banter.
"Need I remind you that you needed stitches, and a MRI to rule out a brain bleed?"
"Two, okay? Two stitches. I won't be showing off my scar anytime soon. And I'm about done waiting around for these elusive MRI results. They should just call it 'So we don't get sued results.' " I had been joking, but only sort of. I really was tired of being here, and this whole thing was bordering on ridiculous. I slid off the patient bed and started to gather my things.

"Can I split a taxi with you, um, Autumn?" As quickly as traumatic events can bond previously perfect strangers together, I was ready to move on.

"What about your test results? Are you sure?"

"They have my information. If there's something wrong, they'll call--" I stopped short as I heard a commotion of some sort out in the hallway. Mumbled voices, several people all talking at once. I don't think I would have paid it much mind if I didn't know that combination of voices so well.

"Oh this is great. Just great." I hurriedly put my jacket on, while swinging my bag easily across my body.

"Quick, grab your things." I instructed Autumn. With a bewildered look on her face she obediently picked up her briefcase and purse from the chair.

"What? What is it--" she started, but the curtain separating us from other patients flew back and the Gorginski women descended. It wasn't that I minded that they were here, I just knew they would make a fuss. I was a grown man who hit his head in an alley. You could barely even call it a mugging seeing as I had the majority of my things still in my possession. I couldn't handle being coddled by any more women at the moment. My embarrassment quota for the day was overflowing.

Debbie met my eye instantly with that raised eyebrow look she always gives me when she thinks I'm hiding something from her. "Why did I have to hear from Jared in Receiving, who heard from Sue in customer service, that you had been attacked and were in the hospital?!" Although I could see she had been worried sick, she hadn't blinked yet and it was a tad unsettling.

"Deb, I'm so sorry you worried, but I am totally fine--"

Vanessa made her way to the front of the group and yanked up my shirt collar in her hands. "Is that blood?" she asked incredibly. I put both my hands up in a desperate plea of understanding, "yes, probably, but I--"

"Mom said they had guns!" Heather jumped up excitedly, pulling on my jacket and looking up at me with amazement in her eyes.

"No she didn't! They just beat him up real bad." Megan piped in.

"Well, she said they probably had guns. Did they Scott? Did they try and shoot you? Did you have to fight with them?"

"Heather, Megan, that's enough. Give him space to breathe for Pete's sake." Kim piped up. The girls quieted down, but no one moved an inch.
"How could you not call us Scott?" Kylie was the next to add her two cents and I was surprised to look up and see hurt in her expression.
"I, er..um...I..I didn't want to worry you? It was no big deal. Barely an incident. Two guys tried to take my backpack in an alley and the only thing that gave me any real trouble was a brick wall to the back of the head. It's a bump with a small cut. Coming here was purely a precaution. I promise, I was going to call you when I got home. Scouts honor." I meekly held up three fingers and attempted a smile in the seconds of silence that followed.
"The Scout's Honor salute is two fingers, dork." Megan broke the silence and the room erupted with everyone talking at once. I wasn't catching everything, but if I had to take a stab at the gist of it, I was still in hot water, but slowly being forgiven for want of all the gory details. At about the time Heather and Megan were trying to perform an improv reenactment, I noticed Autumn in the corner. She was holding her purse and briefcase to her chest and watching the spectacle with confusion and amusement.
Disentangling myself from Debbie who had insisted on checking out the back of my head, I walked over to Autumn and pulled her gently by the elbow into the mix.
"This is Autumn you guys. She's the real hero in all of this." She looked up at me incredibly. She saw the ruckus going on around her and clearly felt I was throwing her under the bus.
"What? You did?" Kim asked incredibly.
"Oh, I, um, was just in the right place at the right time is all." The women eyed her, noticing her for the first time in all of this.
"Nonsense," I said, seeing my way out of the fray. "Autumn here saved my life." Autumn's eyes narrowed at me in a glare, while fighting a ghost of a smile.
"I saved him from a rough situation is all." she looked at me, mockingly.
"No, no really. You guys should talk to her. She saw the whole thing."
The girls shifted direction like a cartoon group of bees that can swarm and change direction in a split second. Before she knew it, she was the new focus and I slipped out unnoticed looking for a nurse or doctor to discharge me.
I found myself drumming my fingers at the nurse's station counter, without a nurse in sight. I sighed with impatience, but found myself chuckling softly to myself. As embarrassing as the attention was, I couldn't help but let their concern bring a smile to my face. It felt good to matter so much to people. Riley loved me, I knew that. I even knew my mother loved me. This just felt different somehow. The Gorginski family wasn't obligated by default of genetics. They didn't have to care, but they did. Debbie and Kylie would have been at work; she must have pulled the younger ones from school. As silly as this whole thing felt, they thought I was in trouble, dropped everything and came.
As I looked impatiently down the hallway, I had that queer feeling again. The one I had had on the ferry ride this morning. The one I kept getting the last few weeks now. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my skin felt creepy. I shuddered involuntarily and looked around in all directions for whatever was setting off my sixth sense. There was no one. It was oddly deserted all the sudden for a hospital. Finally a janitor turned the corner with a mop and bucket on wheels. Seemed harmless. A nurse came out of a patient room down the hall carrying what looked like vials of blood and hurried in the opposite direction. No one. Nothing.
"Thought you could skip out that easily did you?" Kylie's voice came from behind me and I whirled around, amped up from the anxiety I had felt moments earlier.
"You okay?" Her expression went from teasing to quizzical in a matter of seconds.
"No- yes, I'm good. I'm just trying to figure out who I need to talk to to get the heck out of here." I said, attempting to rub out the goose flesh on the back of my neck with my hand. The uneasy feeling was fading. Or maybe I just always felt comfortable with Kylie around.
"You really gave us a scare Scott." she looked at me earnestly. I put my hand to my face and rubbed my head and cheek in a gesture of fatigue.
"It means a lot that you guys care so much. I promise though. It was nothing. They didn't even rob me. Not really anyway."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I had cash, I had credit cards, ID, my packages. They didn't take any of it. Except for one."
"Just one? What was it?" Kylie joined me in looking baffled.
I suddenly felt awkward. The one thing they had taken, was the one thing I wished I had never had in my possession. I didn't know what was in it or who it had been intended for. Had we been anywhere else, I probably would have spilled the whole ordeal to her. Asked for her advice, recounted the whole crazy set of events of the morning. But right now I just felt tired and anxious to get out of here.
"I don't really know." That was true enough I thought.
"Maybe it was company secrets, and a competing company hired someone to steal them." Kylie's eyes lit up as she speculated. She loved a good conspiracy story. I was about to roll my eyes at her, but stopped short. It actually had some merit to it. A lot actually. Why else would they only take the one envelope? Mr. Liam had said it was sensitive in nature. He seemed to be paranoid about trusting it to anyone from his office. Didn't even want a record that it had been sent.
"Hmmm. Not bad Gorginski." I hit her playfully on the shoulder and started to mull her theory over more in my mind. She seemed to light up with my approval.
"You must have a guardian angel." she said, shifting gears suddenly.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I know right? Right place right time like she said. Lots of people would have been too scared to get involved though. She's pretty brave." I said thoughtfully. Kylie seemed to shift uncomfortably, and I used the silence to look up and down the hallway for a random nurse or doctor.
"Well, word travels fast. When we came through, I heard someone ask about you at the Admittance desk. Looked like one of your messenger buddies."
"What?!"
Kylie jumped a bit at my surprise.
"Yeah. It was quick, I didn't really get a good look. Just heard someone ask about Scott Daniels. I would have stopped to help him, but at the time, only cared about-- finding you." She finished her sentence with a touch of awkwardness. Like she would have liked to have used different words, but couldn't find any ones more accurate.
"I don't know how that's possible." I said, "I called Dispatch and let them know, but that's it. And you guys are the only ones to come see me."
"Well, word traveled. That's how Mom found out. Maybe they stopped by, saw all of us, and decided against it." She seemed to deem this the answer, and turned to help in my search for hospital personnel. It didn't ring true for me though. Sure I had worked for RealTime for a couple years now. I had made some friends well enough, but for the most part I kept my head down, did my job and went home. Beyond the Gorginski's, my life just wasn't set up to take on the responsibility of extra friendships. Even still. I suppose if I heard someone from work had run into trouble, I'd stop by. Maybe the hospital was near their route?
I didn't have any more time to consider the mysterious well wisher. My visitors had finally noticed my absence and brought their commotion out into the hallway.
In a way that only a mother of five could do, Debbie had managed to procure discharge papers that she was shoving in front of me to sign. I scribbled my name absently, and looked up to find Autumn, only to find her suddenly there, standing in front of me.
"Hi." was all she said, looking from me to Kylie and me again. "You seem to be in more than capable hands so, I think I'm going to go now."
"I'm glad to hear you have more faith that I'll pull through." Kylie had moved over a few feet in a gesture of giving us a moment, but I could have sworn I saw her roll her eyes in my periphial vision.
"I should get to work. I called in, but we're working on this big case--"
"Case? You're a lawyer?" I asked.
"Uh, yeah," she said absently as she dug around in her purse. She resurfaced with her wallet and produced a business card.
"It would be nice to get to know you with no life threatening incidents hanging over us." She smiled and I couldn't help but smile back, while taking her card from her. Her hair was a mix of natural golds and reds, that just reached her shoulders. Her eyes seemed a deep butterscotch and I couldn't help looking directly at them, fascinated with the unique color.
"Um-I'll do that." I managed to get out coherently. "Do lawyers get lunch breaks?" Do lawyers get lunch breaks? How lame. I mentally blamed the six sets of eyes I felt at my back for my lack of finesse. But Autumn just smiled. "They do occasionally let us eat, yes."
"Great." was all I dared to say.
"I'll talk to you soon then I guess. Take care Scott." she shrugged and held her hand out to shake it which I took, but then thought better of. "I think heroes deserve more than a handshake." Without waiting for a response, I pulled her from a handshake stance into a quick embrace. She held on longer than I had anticipated, and for the first time that day, common sense started to kick in. Here was a beautiful educated woman who had stuck around a hospital most of the morning waiting for MRI results for a bump on the head. I was beginning to think she hadn't ever really thought my life was in jeopardy. I went to say something but she was turning and waving over her shoulder. "Bye."
You are awful at this. I told myself. You make grand gestures with the girl who isn't into you, and are oblivious to the ones that are. I looked down at her business card and heard myself audibly gasp.
"What is it?" I heard Debbie say, as her and the girls found their way back over to me. I noticed Kylie was hanging back, leaning against the wall, pretending to study her fingernails.
"Um, er, nothing. I think I'm just hungry."
"Say no more," Debbie gestured her hands wildly in the air as if I had finally given her full access to take charge of the situation. "Let's get you back to our house. We'll feed you good, before you head home." Nothing had sounded better all day. As I tried to let thoughts of Debbie's homemade cooking settle the knot that had formed suddenly in my stomach, Kylie was suddenly at my side, snatching the business card from my hand.
"Wha--Kylie!"
"Liam and Drees and Associates huh?" she said with that raised eyebrow look the Gorginski women had down to a science. Made you think you had something you should confess, even if you didn't.
"I guess." I tried to sound nonchalant as we walked to the lobby and out the front doors. The sunshine and smog filled air, a refreshing change from the antiseptic smell of the hospital. This day had been so bizarre, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that my good Samaritan ended up working for the one person I was dreading talking to.
"She likes you, you know." Kylie turned her face up to the sun, eyes closed.
"No. I think she just felt obligated since she helped me. Wanted to make sure I was okay." I shrugged and shoved my hands in my pockets as we walked to the parking lot. I wasn't sure if I wanted to have a conversation about girls with Kylie.
"Don't you remember our deal?" Kylie stopped me, coming around in front of me, a hand placed lightly on my chest.
I struggled for a few seconds with remembering how to form words. "Of course, why?" Despite the havoc that being this near to her was doing to my brain, I was genuinely confused where she was going with this.
"I said I would always save you from yourself."
"Right...?"
"That girl. Autumn? She likes you. Not in a good Samaritan way, not in a just being a concerned citizen type way."
"How do you know? You met her for like five minutes." I said incredulously, even though I had just had my own brief suspicions.
Kylie rolled her eyes. "Men are idiots." was all she said, and fell back into step with me. Oh it was on now! I turned to her ready for one of our who's-more-ridicoulous-arguments when I stopped short. A black Lincoln Town car was pulling slowly through the parking lot. Despite the fact that it seemed horribly out of place, I could already feel my senses prickling. I watched carefully as it slowed, almost matching pace with my walking speed. I swallowed hard and concentrated on following Kylie to the car. Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at it again. The windows were heavily tinted, and squinting hard to see inside was pointless. I shook my head. Maybe I was crazy. It had been a long day, and I was letting it all get to me. Still, I put my hand firmly on the small of Kylie's back and quickend her pace to the Gorginski Mini Van. If something shady was going on, I wanted the Gorginski family no where near it. She looked up at me quizzically, but matched my pace without question. I waited as the girls climbed in and was just about to close the sliding door behind me when the black Town Car pulled up alongside the passenger side.
The back window slid down automatically, and I fought with the urge to get the women away from here and seeing who it was. I felt frozen in my seat, my hand on the open van door. Within seconds I was staring at Mr. Liam himself.
"A moment of your time, Mr. Daniels?" It was a question, but his tone implied otherwise.
Debbie looked at me, her eyes wide with suprise.
"Uh, yes, of course." I said, my voice steady and confident, my mouth completley dry. Kylie grabbed my arm and looked at me with a panicked expression. "Who is that Scott?"
"I deliever to his office. It's okay." I tried to reassure her while I pried her grip off my jacket sleeve.
"Is that who's package was stolen?" She managed to say in a whisper as I got out of the van. I nodded once to her and could tell I had done nothing to ease her concern.
"I promise you ladies, he's in good hands," Mr. Liam said loudly, trying to assure Debbie who resembled a Mama bear who's cub had been threatened.
"I'm fine Deb. This is business. I'll check in with you later tonight. Thanks for coming, really." I felt the words come out mechanically as I smiled at them and opened the Town Car door. Before I could over think it, I climed in and closed the door behind me. Despite the unknown of the moment, I felt relief that the Gorginski's were okay. I turned to look at Mr. Liam, and was met with a cold hard stare. This horrible day was apparently far from over.

Beth Ann's word: Power Part 2

Two Months Earlier

I was fairly certain I was being watched. I had no proof of course. Recently it had just been this vague sense that I wasn't the only one aware of my actions. That somehow my shadow had a shadow. Every day was the same and rarely deviated from its course. I took the ferry from Brooklyn into the city, calling Dispatch on the way, seeing what work they had for me. I was going on two years, working for RealTime Messenger Service. It started as a way to pay the bills. On a good day I could make two hundred dollars. I would never have guessed that flying through the city on a bicycle would prove addictive, but somehow it had. The sights and smells of the city, the feel of the bike swerving in and out of traffic, around corners, slicing through pedestrians. If reputation is anything in my job, I'd venture to say I had made one for myself. I always had work, and I was good at what I did. Bike messengers had an odd commordiary despite the competition between each other. Even gave each other nicknames. Eventually my name, Scott Daniels, had become "Scotty-D" on the street.

I leaned against the ferry window and looked out over the East River, cell phone pressed to my ear. As I waited on hold for dispatch to give me my instructions, I felt a queer feeling in the pit of my stomach and felt the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I ventured my best attempt at a casual sweep of the area around me. Mainly business men. Suits and briefcases holding coffee and newspapers. Families. Mothers trying to entertain young ones, teenagers messing with the vending machine. It looked as normal and uneventful as any other ferry ride into New York City. I wanted to shrug it off, chalk it up to my anxieties at home. That would be easy enough to do.
But something about riding around a big city traffic death trap every day heightens your instincts. I can sense the van around the corner before I actually see it. I know there's a toddler holding his mom's hand even when he wasn't visible from up high. I can tell when a car is going to blow a red light, when a taxi is going to dart out into traffic, or a pedestrian is going to jaywalk. I began to question that somehow I was turning into a clairvoyant and that maybe I was missing my true calling in life. Other bicycle messengers quickly put me in my place. Our unique sixth sense came with the territory. They were instincts that typically hung out in the ninety percent of our brain that goes unused, dulling over time with non use. Senses easily sharpened on the unforgiving and unpredictable streets of New York City.

The ferry docked and I hopped on my bike and quickly weaved a path through the departing passengers and onto the mainland. I wanted to get as far away from that uneasy feeling as possible. I needed to put about six hours in before I headed off to class. I was in my Senior year at NYU. A partial scholarship paid for some, a grant paid for the rest. I wasn't sure what the official name of the grant was, but the gist of it was in relation to my circumstances: Abandoned son who takes care of his alcoholic mother and teenage brother. Riley.
Whatever. I'd take it. I was the only one who could improve our lives, and I'd take nothing for granted in doing so. I stopped off at the company's warehouse. The messengers referred to it as "The Warehouse" but it was really just a nondescript building that looked more like a large garage. Dispatch had given me the addresses for today's deliveries over the phone. I signed in and collected the various packages and letters waiting for me and situated them in my messenger bag. Debbie Gorginski was the supervisor on duty and while raising an eyebrow at me, she handed me one last clipboard, signing that I had the packages in my possession.

"You look tired there Mr. Daniels." Debbie said as I scribbled my signature next to the "x." Debbie was from my neck of the woods in Brooklyn and was probably around fifty. She knew about my home situation, but never pried too much. We had sort of a kinship from the first time we had met, and had formed an instant friendship. I had come to trust her and had become close to her family over the last couple of years. With five daughters, I seemed to be the son they never had, and it had been years since I had felt I had a mother. I always accounted for my whereabouts with her, always told her what was going on. She'd usually give me a muffin and a banana as I headed out. When you weren't riding, you were eating. And even sometimes while you were riding, you were eating. Biking around the city all day burned massive calories. A perk of the job is that you could pretty much eat anything you wanted.

"Long night." I said as I handed her back the clipboard and gave her a knowing glance.
"Aww." Was all she said as she added her own signature next to mine. "Anything I can do for you kid?"
"No, this is already enough," I said holding the food up as I stored the muffin and started to peel the banana. "Thanks Deb."
"It's Thursday you know. We'll see you for dinner?" She asked as I tightened my helmet straps with my free hand. I finished up classes on Thursday around six, and dinner at the Gorginski's had been a standing arrangement for the last year or so. It was the highlight of my week to be surrounded by the light and laughter of the Gorginski clan, even if it was predominantly female. There was always this look in Mr. Gorginski's eye whenever I walked through the door. It seemed to radiate this beacon of hope. There was now another man in the house that would help him stay afloat in an endless sea of estrogen. I always spent at least twenty minutes in Bob Gorginski's den. We'd talk sports, politics, hunting, the DOW; anything and everything manly. Bob soaked in the male camaraderie like a sponge and I could pretend I was like any other son, chewing the fat with their dad. My own father had left years ago, and Bob made me feel, in these pockets of quality time, like the abandonment was truly my father's loss, and not some failure on my part.
The "Mancave", as the Gorginski women referred to it, could only hold court for so long. The sisters ranged in age from 7 to 19. At seven, Megan was the youngest, Heather was 9, Kim was 15, Vanessa 17 and Kylie was the oldest, 19, a year younger than myself.
I had a great rapport with all the sisters.
Megan and Heather were super competitive and were always challenging me to games like Scrabble, Clue and cards. After the first few encounters with them I soon realized I was to not "go easy on them." They played to win and they didn't want any favors. Kim was quiet and a classic middle child. She was constantly being the peacemaker and referee when Megan's and Heather's good natured squabbles boiled over into name calling and door slamming. She was extremely bright and had a very quick dry wit, but when Vanessa and Kylie were in the room she let the spotlight and attention shine on them. She was quick to do as her parents asked, and her nature alone seemed to contain the air around her, trying to take up as little resources as possible. I had felt an immediate kinship to her. She just wanted the people in her life to be happy, and derived pleasure in accomplishing it. She wasn't a martyr or a Saint. The two of us were as guilty as the next in doing things for our own happiness. We had our needs met but meeting the needs of others.
Vanessa was the loud to Kim's quiet. The lover of attention, to Kims's desire to be in the audience. To her credit, Vanessa was very lovable. She knew her sisters and parents well, and exploited their idiosyncrasies like a seasoned comedian. Never crossing over into offensive, and always walking that careful line of things being funny because they were true. When she walked in the room, we subconsciencely expected a show, and Vanessa always delivered.
And then there was Kylie. Mine and Kylie's relationship had become complicated, but as of late had found its way back to more of its typical ease and playfulness. Kylie was pretty, but her personality quickly made her cross over into beautiful.
She had long brown hair that fell in soft layers around her face and down the middle of her back. Her skin was fair and clear and was complimented by a straight nose, full lips and deep set blue eyes. As the oldest she seemed to encapsulate a part of each of her sister's personalities. It was as if she was the tree from which the other four branched off from. She had some of Vanessa's humor, Kims's peacemaking, and at times, a bit of Heather and Megan's fire and rowdiness.

It was hard to notice each other in a platonic way when Debbie first brought me to her home. I'd always considered myself average, six feet, light brown hair, brown eyes, but found myself basking a bit in the knowledge that her jaw dropped a bit when she first met me. She recovered quickly and was as warm and pleasant as the rest of her family. Secretly that first encounter always gave me a spring in my step that in that split second meeting, we had both found each other very pleasing. We seemed a perfect match to anyone that spent even small amounts of time around us. We liked the same movies, we both had a dark side to our humor, and we generally seemed to see the world in the same way. Some nights, she'd walk me out we and we'd end up talking so long but so effortlessly that Deb would insist I take a taxi home and lock my bike up at their place. The fact that Kylie was dating someone already was initially disappointing, but ultimately gave us permission to just enjoy each other without the complications of romance. I had met her boyfriend a couple of times at the house and wasn't overly impressed. I had caught a couple of looks passed between Bob and Deb that made me aware I wasn't alone in my assessment. His name was Lee. I had tried to pinpoint the thing I didn't like but it was difficult to verbalize. He was similar to an algebraic equation that seemed to have all the right elements, but didn't quite add up in the end. He was in law school and on more than one occasion when I was there hanging out with the family, had cancelled on Kylie because of school, or needing to stay late with his study group. The night that changed things between us came on such a cancellation. She had moped around the house ever since his call, and it had just seemed right to ask her out. I had genuinely just wanted to go have fun and get her mind off things. Deb and Bob had waved goodbye to us with the enthusiasm like we were on our way to our Honeymoon that night, and not just Coney Island. Whenever I recall that night, no matter how it ended, it was still the most perfect non-date I had ever been on. There should have been an element of nervousness or even awkwardness. They were just going as friends, but still. They had never gone off anywhere without a least some of the sisters with them.
Being on a "date" seemed to cover everyday events in a thin layer of expectations. Things you did all the time together suddenly felt awkward. It simply hadn't been like that for us. We laughed and joked as comfortably that night as if we were back at her house, playing cards with Megan and Heather. We split a pizza, shared an ice cream and rode the rides like we hadn't a care in the world. What I remember most from that night was how I didn't think of any of the bad in my life. Not for one minute. My responsibilities seemed to consume a large part of my thoughts no matter what I was doing, even despite my many efforts to keep them at bay when I was away from home. With Kylie there was just peace. A comfort in my own skin that I had not felt in some time. By the time we arrived back at her place, I was inwardly bursting with contentment and felt no hesitation at all in pulling her close and leaning down to kiss her. It just felt normal. Natural.
I had brushed a lock of hair from her cheek and held my palm against her face. She had truly never looked as beautiful. I leaned down only to feel her fingers against my lips. My eyes opened in genuine surprise. Were her younger sisters watching out the window? Or worse, Bob and Deb? I quickly glanced around to see light coming from the windows, but no curious faces. My expression radiated surprise and distress as she softly pulled away. I snapped back to reality with a harshness I hadn't expected. I had been so swept up in the evening, I had forgotten myself. I never did that. I was always aware, always in control.
"Kylie-please, forgive me. I just got caught up--" The reality of the situation was just starting to fully hit. I felt like a patient unexpectedly waking up during surgery, and no one but me was aware of it. The rush of endorphins had caused a numbing effect that was now lifting. I was becoming painfully aware of the knot in my stomach, the tightness in my chest and throat.
"I don't think we should." she whispered kindly.
"Kylie, I know-Lee--I wasn't thinking."
"You mean a lot to my family Scott." Kylie said thoughtfully, almost talking more to herself than to me.
"And they mean a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. Please. Let's just forget that I almost ruined a great night out." I backed up a respectable distance and shoved my hands in my pockets. I could no longer trust myself to not reach out and comfort her.

Instead of seeing anger reflected in her eyes, I saw pain. She was conflicted. It set off an immediate reflex in me to make it go away. Undo it. Undo it idiot, I told myself.
"Kylie, look, I don't even know what I was thinking okay? I'm probably tipsy from all that Banana's Foster." That got a smile. Keep going, you can fix this, I'd told myself.
"We're like--brother and sister for crying out loud." I said grasping for the right words. I had certainly killed any of the mood. Kylie had scrunched up her features in a weird face of disbelief and insult. Whoops. Back it up Daniels, you almost kissed her, make it less creepy.
"I mean, not brother and sister,really, just related you know--"
"Oh my gosh Scott, stop!" Kylie clutched her waist with one arm and was waving the other in the air, doubling over in laughter. At first I stared at her bewildered. She was laughing hysterically now and when she tried to come up for air she actually snorted. She clamped her hand around her mouth and with that, the awkwardness of the last few minutes dissolved with both of us having to sit on the porch steps in complete hysterics.
Eventually the laughter stopped and we sat there wiping the tears from our eyes. Some of that same old Kylie and Scott comfort tried to settle back into the cracks, but there was a small amount of awkwardness that was there now that hadn't been.
"You sure now how to talk to the ladies there Scott." Kylie quipped, filling up the silence.
"Remind me to never attempt to dislodge my foot from my mouth, with my other foot."
Kylie started to giggle again but remained in control this time. "Deal." She stuck out her hand like we had just hammered out terms to a contract. "I will always do my best to save you from yourself, as long as you promise that we'll always be friends." I took her hand in mine and clasped over both of them with the other.
"Deal."



The thought of being with Debbie's family that night made me feel lighter and I flew through the busy rush hour streets with ease. I grabbed hold of a taxi door handle and let it pull me a ways, serving as a catapult type device. It always gave the passenger a startle, and taxi drivers didn't love it, but let us do it all the same. I let go of the handle after a few blocks of being dragged by the speed of the cab, and launched myself around the next corner. The speed was always a rush, and certainly got the blood pumping first thing in the morning. My first stop was a familiar one. I coasted to a stop at the entrance to the offices of Liam and Drees and Associates. A law firm in a swanky high rise. I locked my bike and jogged over to the elevator. After the speed of the streets, the tedium of waiting on elevators made me feel like I was now moving through water. The doors parted and I made my way to the 25 floor, and jogged again to the receptionist's desk.

"Hey Scott, how are you today?"

"I'm good Nancy, and yourself?"

Courtesy banter with most of New York's receptionists also came with the messenger business.

"Can't complain. Every one's catching that nasty flu that's going around and I seem to to have dodged it." She took the envelope from me and signed the receipt I handed to her in one smooth motion.

"Quick, knock on wood there Nancy." I quipped and shoved the receipt back in my bag. The whole exchange happened so quickly and automatically that I had already started to turn to leave when she quickly called out for me to stay.

"Actually Scott? Mr. Liam would like to speak to you for a second if you don't mind. My puzzlement must have been written all over my face. I knew lots of receptionists and Office Mangers. Hardly ever the clients themselves. The fact that one of the actual partners to the firm wanted to speak to me was about the craziest thing I could imagine.

"Me?" I pointed to myself stupidly, but I was sure she had me confused with someone else.

"Yes. His office is right there to the left. You can walk right in." She indicated where I should go and smiled politely. This was getting weirder by the minute, but I needed to get back on my route. The faster I cleared up the misunderstanding, the faster I could get back to my deliveries. I readjusted my messenger bag across my body, and walked quickly to the office door and knocked lightly while pushing it open ever so carefully. "Er, Mr., uh, Liam?"

"Yes?" a voice answered, and I poked my head inside.

"My name is Scott Daniels? I work for RealTime? Nancy said you wanted to see me?" I kept stating everything in the form of a question in hopes that he would know I didn't really think he wanted to speak to me, but I wasn't going to be discourteous to his secretary.

"Aw! Yes! Mr. Daniels, please come in." I eased myself through the door and walked over to where he was seated behind a large mahogany desk. The office smelled of money. Rich wood bookshelves lined the walls on either side of me, and my footsteps became silent on the plush oriental rug that almost filled the whole space. Behind him was a view of the city that was nothing short of breathtaking.

"Quite a view, eh?" He asked, smiling almost smugly as he took in my reaction.

"Quite." I said, clearing my throat and coming back to the present moment. He indicated to one of the leather wing back chairs in front of his desk. Clearly I was to sit, so I sat. I tried to sit still, but my right leg bounced ever so slightly with impatience. Mr. Liam seemed to size me up thoughtfully and I tried to look elsewhere while he evaluated me.

"In our business Mr. Daniels--" he began.

"Scott, sir, really."

Okay, Scott." He rolled his ballpoint pen thoughtfully in his hands as he continued. "In our business, you can imagine that we highly value trust. Trust in our clients, trust that the State is playing by the rules, trust that we have all the facts, trust that the lawyers in our firm will do what we ask of them."

"Yes sir, I can definitely appreciate that." I was trying my best to be polite, but my patience for this weirdness was waining thin.

"Mr. Daniels, you've delivered to us for quite some time, true?"
"Um, yes sir. The whole time I've worked for the company, so two years I believe."

"Always been punctual, always courteous, always professional." he rattled off my traits like we were in some sort of employee evaluation.

"I try to be the same in my professional life, as I am in my regular life is all." I willed my right leg to not bounce higher or faster. Time was money in my job and the clock was ticking.

"Could I trust you with a delievery of my own Mr. Dani-excuse me, Scott?"

"Beg your pardon sir?" I was going from confused to dumfounded at a rapid pace.

"I know it's probably against your company's protocal to accept delieveries that don't originate from your office--"
"Unfortunely, you're right sir." I said aplogetically but relieved that this was the question and I could be on my way. "We are instructed to not take part in any third party delieveries. There's no record on our end of what's being delievered, and it could come down to your word against ours that it got to its destination. It's for our protection as well as yours, I'm sure you can understand that."

"I can. I can." he said still looking at me thoughtfully, rolling the pen back and forth.

"Surely you have messengers of your own, sir? They must deliever for you on a daily basis."

"Well, here's my predicament Scott. What I need delivered is of a sensitive nature. As much as you want to trust the cohesivness of your work family so to speak, people like to talk. Watercooler gossip is what makes the day more bearable. It was my hope that a third party, someone with no interest in its contents, could make the delievery."

"Well that seems understandable. Let me leave you my card. Call your package in directly and I'll make sure I deliever it personally." I dug into my wallet, placed my card on his desk and smiled polietly as I stood up.
He took out his own wallet and placed five hundred dollars on the desk. I felt my jaw drop and struggled to maintain a straight face as I tried to keep up with what was going on here.

He leaned forward and clasped his hands in a manner that conveyed he was a man who typically got his way.

"It would be benneficial to me, and I would consider it a personal favor to not have a record of the delievery." It was all he added and calmly pushed the money towards me. It was more than I'd make in an entire day. Two days. My mind was reeling, weighing the pros against the possible consequences. An extra five hundred dollars for the week meant a lot.

"Is this delievery of yours, illegal in nature?" I realized I risked offending him, but he was asking me to bend the rules, and I had a right to know.

"Like I said. Trust is a big deal around here. I have been entrusted to not speak of that which I'm sending, but I can assure you, you break no laws and are handling nothing questionable. My client just likes discreetness, and you strike me as someone who could help me with that."
He stood then, picked up the cash and handed it to me as if our meeting was over and he suddenly had a million things to do. From his desk drawer he withdrew a small manilla envelope that bulged slightly as if was padded on the inside. On it was a name and an address which he handed over to me as he walked around his desk and walked me to the door.

"After you deliver it, please call me at this number and let me know." He handed me his card and all but pushed me out of his office. Nancy smiled at me as I walked past and I bearly acknowledged her. In a stupor I somehow came to be in the lobby; the money still in one hand, the envelope and business card in the other. I looked around and saw the security gaurd at his desk giving me a quick cursory glance. I shook my head in an effort to clear it. What had just happened? I shoved the money and business card into a zipped pouch of my bag and slipped the envelope in a small compartment in the back. I unlocked my bike and started to ride away but my head seemed in a fog. I had never in my life had such a strange encounter, and living in New York, that was saying something. I had two options I supposed. I could just deliever it. He said it wasn't harmful or illegal. I could do this, just this once and be five hundred dollars richer. Riley's asthma medication was expensive without insurance.

I spent about five minutes adding up all the way the extra money would bennefit us and only one thinking of the negatives. It was wrong, and if Debbie found out she'd be put in the worst of all predicaments. I'd be fired on the spot if this came to light. If Debbie covered for me and it still came out...this just had disaster written all over it, and that was something I definatly couldn't afford. I jerked my bike to the left and made my way down a one way street, backtracking towards Liam and Drees. I was hurrying, I couldn't get rid of this package soon enough now.

Maybe I was going to fast, I know my thoughts were racing and I didn't have my usual focus. I felt that I was in danger seconds before it happened, but by then it was too late. I had cut through a back alley that would have dumped me back onto 3rd Avenue. My wheels locked up hard and I went flying. Even as I flew through the air, I knew that someone had stuck something in my wheels, jamming them. Mercifully I fell into a pile of discarded grocery boxes that were stacked next to a dumpster. I landed hard, but I knew nothing had broken the instant I landed.

My helmet protected me from the initial impact, and then flew off my head. I scrambled to my feet, slipping on cardboard. Just as I thought I was getting my bearings I was pushed roughly against the brick wall behind me. I blinked hard and tried to focus on what was happening. Two men. No masks. One was pinning me to the wall, the other unzipping my messenger bag. I was being mugged. Unbelievable! I was amazed that I didn't feel scared as much as I felt shocked, even bordering on irritated. I knew the city better than this. True, on the surface bike messengers were easy targets. We rode without the luxury of car doors around us for protection, and by way of how we got paid, always carried around cash. Given all that I still had thought myself immune to a situation like this. Unbelieveable, I kept thinking over and over. What felt like a lifetime, could only have been a few seconds and I couldn't lose my packages. Surely they were just after my money.
"Side pocket! My wallet is in the side pocket!" I felt impatient for this ordeal to be over and chalked it up to the adreniline and my anxiety over the packages that I didn't feel more worried for my life. The big guy pinning me to the wall pulled me up by my coat and slammed me back into the wall. It took a few seconds for the pain of my head hitting the cement to register to my brain. Everything went blurry and my peripherial vision went gray at the corners. I fought hard to remain conscience and decided that this would be a no speaking mugging. My head lulled to one side and I heard as well as felt the pulsing of my head in my ears. I watched as the second guy rummaged through my bag. What was he doing? I thought to myself. Even if they had wanted me to be quiet, I had directed them to the money. Why were they still rumaging through manilla envelopes? I heard them talking back and forth but it took on a mumbling quality and I realized I really may pass out soon. My body started to feel heavy and I felt my eyes start to close when a scream from somewhere jerked me out of it.
"Police! Help! Someone help that man!" At least it sounded like that. Maybe I was dreaming now. The weight against my chest was gone in a flash and I sank to the ground in an instant. Everything was happening faster than I could analyze the information around me. I really needed my head to stop spinning now. Cold hands were on my face and I startled a bit.
"It's okay. You're okay. I've called an ambulance and the police ran after those guys. You're going to be okay." the voice was soothing and melodic. This dream felt nice.
"What's your name?" the voice asked
"What?" I tried to concentrate.
"Stay with me, what's your name?"
Things were slowly coming back into focus. The alley, the dumpster, my bike. I looked up and saw a woman's face looking down at me, her brows pulled together in worry.
"Um, Scott. Scott Daniels." I said reaching for the back of my head.
"I wouldn't move Scott. Let's wait for the paramedics to have a look at it first."
"My bag."
"What?" she looked around confused.
"Did they take my bag?" I asked, my voice sounded a bit sluggish, but I felt I was coming more aware now.
"Umm.."I watched as she looked all around us, "Yes! I see it!" she left for a moment and placed the bag on my lap. "Maybe you didn't lose everything after all." she tried to sound helpful even though the chances of me having a dime left were slim to none. In the distance I heard the wail of the ambulance. My head was clearing more and more by the second and I quickly unzipped the pockets. The cash was there. I blinked. I definatly had a concussion.
"Um, Miss?"
"Yes, yes I'm here. My name is Autumn. I hear the ambulance now, you'll be---"
"Autumn, is that really money I'm seeing?"
She looked at it in disbelief, and back at me. "Those must have been the dumbest thieves in all of New York!" She put her hand to her forehead and shook her head back and forth in shock. I made quick work of the other compartments and everything seemed to be there. Unbelieveable, I thought for the hundreth time in the last ten minutes. Clearly these guys must have laid in wait, they rough me up, dig through my bag and take...nothing? If they hadn't found what they were looking for when Autumn startled them, why not run with the bag? This had hands down been the strangest morning ever. First the whole thing with Mr. Liam, now this.
Wait.
I flipped the canvas cover back and unzipped the small compartment in the back. My heart sank. It was gone. The package Mr. Liam had given me not twenty minutes ago was the only thing they had taken.