MORE OF SOMETHING MORE,
a story about a salesman trying to establish himself,
a CEO scheming to buy out his father's influence
and the woman important to each
18
Outside the bar, Helen spilled her
story, taking Atom by surprise and leaving him speechless.
“I’m not a girl who’s afraid of odd
noises or tricks of light, but lately I can’t help looking over my shoulder.
Which came first, the looking or the note, I can’t remember. I’d driven to
Melrose for some shopping, and was going back to the car. It was getting dark, and my yellow Beetle stood out like a highlighter. I was swinging my
arms like a little girl, when I see something on my windshield. A ticket! The
blood rushes to my head. I paid the meter and wasn’t gone that long. So unjust!
Walking faster, I focus on the windshield, but when I get there it’s a piece of
paper folded in half. Relieved, I set down my bags and open it. Written in
block letters: I’M WATCHING YOU.
“Such a sick joke! My stupid
friends, I think, and look around, but I don’t see anyone I know, just
strangers passing and wondering what’s going on. My anger turns to fear and my
body goes rigid. I drop the note and rush inside. I
lock the doors and stare through the windshield, the rear view and side mirrors. No
one seems to be paying attention. I drive away and watch for anyone following.
I’m not sure there was, and not certain there wasn’t.
“Ever since, I’ve been trying to
come up with who. A stranger, someone I know, an enemy? I’m sorry to say I
thought of you but struck you off. You’ve always been straightforward, even if
your advances were ahead of my timetable. I thought of Kelly but he’s the one that drifted from me, and we’ve known each other too
long. Then there are the investors. Stephen has always warned me not to get too
close. I thought it was jealousy, and cute. Dress up,
smile and be pleasant, he says. If one tries to be too intimate, excuse
yourself to go make drinks or something. Unnecessary, I thought, but he was
right. They have more in mind than investing in Slade.
“I put them into categories and
worked from that. Strike off the young to begin. Not many and more likely to
spend time with someone willing. Next came
the sophisticates who size up the scenario right away. In public, they’re
pleasant and engaging then retreat into private space to scratch their itch.
They saw I wasn’t going to follow. Strike them off.
“That left the super-rationalists
who think that because they have money they can buy anything. It’s the largest
category, and Stephen’s target: men with disposable cash who want to leverage
it into more wealth. I can’t remember all the things they offered: weekend
trips, vacations, cars, jewelry, clothes. My problem was how to decline without
saying no. Stephen taught me about getting the client to nod yes when closing
the deal. So he’s trying to get them to yes-nod and I’m trying to avoid shaking my head. Sometimes I was afraid to breathe and feel partially to
blame if someone got the wrong impression.
“One guy stood out. Stephen was
making introductions and I shook hands with everyone. His were dry and bony and
a shock to feel. I went to get the drinks and didn’t think more about it.
Later, I feel my skin crawl. He’s nearby and watching. He wasn’t typical of the
others. He’s stick thin with gray hair crawling around his neck and ears. His
skin’s red, like he’s outside a lot. His clothes are out-of-fashion: a
too-large green plaid sports coat and brown slacks. His glasses are thick like
bottle bottoms and his crazy green eyes are rimmed with red. He’s frightful,
and I didn’t understand why Stephen would allow him there. I excuse myself but
feel his eyes as I escape to the bedroom. I stayed so long Stephen came
looking, and when he knocked I imagine those bony hands scraping the door. I
can’t forget him so he’s on the list even though there’s no proof.
“I tried talking to Lola about
things and had her up, but she was so excited about being at the condo, she
didn’t pay much attention. You can see I’m going a bit crazy. I’m flattered you want me to
go with you, but I don’t want to make any big decisions right now, not until I
get my head straight. Then there’s Stephen’s project. I want to see it to its
conclusion. Things might be clearer then.
“I
need to get back. Sorry I can’t invite you over. Can I drive you to your car?
No? Good night then.”
Helen climbed into her car, started
the motor and drove away, leaving Atom alone and confounded about whether to
leave Slade as planned, or wait until more certain of her affections.
The characters and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.
