MORE OF SOMETHING MORE,
a story about a salesman trying to establish himself,
a CEO scheming to buy out his father's influenceand the woman important to each
Atom watched her car until it vanished around the corner and then recovered awareness of his own circumstance: standing alone before a clothing boutique that had long since closed. The street that was busy during the day slumbered after Friday rush hour. Half a block back was the Dedalus Bar and Restaurant, distinguished by the bright lights that splashed onto the pavement. His car was parked a few blocks away on a residential street.
While walking, he thought about the evening with Helen and his frustrated effort to get a commitment. Then she sprang that stalker stuff on him without giving him the chance to frame himself as part of the solution. Nothing was going as he had hoped.
He turned the corner onto the street and it was like the lights had gone off. The house fronts, lawns and cars were bland and colorless, and the air cool with the exhalation of plants and grasses. His footsteps scraped the sidewalk as he approached his Mercedes coupe. He reached into his pocket when something wrapped around him and pushed him to the ground.
With the imprint of asphalt on his cheek, he smelled oil, gasoline and worn rubber. A considerable weight held him down as his arms were wrenched behind him. Then a knee pinned the small of his back and his head took a hard punch. A voice growled. “Head down.” His attacker grabbed his wallet and phone. Something skittered across the pavement. “Count to a hundred. Don’t look up.”
The pressure let up but he sensed the presence was waiting to smack him. He began to count before realizing he had and cursed his helplessness. At twenty-five, he turned on his side then sprang to a crouch to peek around a car. When he stood up he was the only one on the street. “So much for going to the gym,” he muttered, feeling ridiculous about wanting to protect Helen when a mugger could so easily take him down.
He had no phone to report the assault and no access to his car just a few feet away, but then recalled the skittering sound. He stooped to search the adjacent area and covered the same ground again and again, growing self-conscious about how it looked and wary of houselights going on or someone walking up. Finally he found the key fob under a bush, and then ventured to the end of the block to search for his cell and wallet.
With the aid of GPS, he found the local police substation, a sedate affair with an open counter and small bank of cubicles to one side. The sole attending officer listened skeptically before posing a few questions. Atom answered that he didn’t see a weapon and that he couldn’t describe his attacker. He admitted to drinking a little.
The officer pointed to one of the cubicles and told him to use the computer to file a report, which he later reviewed. He advised him to cancel his credit cards and lock down his phone. “You were lucky.”
Atom drove home not feeling lucky at all.
The next chapter will be posted by August 23.
The characters and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.