“First off, I’m a little embarrassed, I honestly didn’t mean for anyone but me to read it, but you really liked it? I mean you’re not just saying that?”
“Mike, I thought maybe perhaps I was a little biased, so I showed the first three chapters to my English professor.”
“What?” Mike rose out of his seat.
“Mike, he loved it maybe even more than I did, if that’s even possible. He did some editing but said it was almost impossible because he was having such a difficult time separating himself from what was happening. He has some friends in the literary world who he wants you to send that too.”
“You mean so it can be published?”
“No, so it can be used at a book burning event in Utah.”
“I don’t know, Jandilyn, this is a lot to take in.”
“Mike, you have a gift, I don’t care if you are a security guard for the rest of your life, it makes absolutely no difference to me, but you owe it to yourself to put this book out there.”
“Jandilyn.”
“I thought you might have some indecision.”
“What did you do?”
“What do you think I did?”
“How long ago?”
“About a week. Are you mad?”
“At you? When’s the last time I’ve been mad at you? I just wish you had asked me first.”
“You should be happy I asked at all, even if it is after the fact.”
***
Three months passed by. Mike alternated between extreme excitement at the potential of having his book published and the abject fear of a rejection letter. Jandilyn, on the other hand, was walking around as if she possessed hover sneakers, her feet barely touched the floor as she thought about their upcoming wedding. Out of necessity it would be a very small affair, the Hollows (or at least Mrs. Hollow) had made it abundantly clear they in no way would sponsor the event.
Jed seemed to be purposefully playing worse poker if that were even possible.
“Jed, you’re making this way too easy,” Mike said as he scooped up another pot.
“I’m just thrilled for you two kids,” Jed said as he shuffled the cards.
“Yeah, but you don’t need to pay for my retirement fund. I liked it better when I was taking your money and you were trying.”
“Kid, I’m just setting you up.”
“Oh, is this the five year hustle plan?”
“Something like that. Go do a round, I’m going to take a bathroom break.”
Mike was in good spirits as he headed out to check the building. There had not been so much as a rat turd in the last four years, so Mike had no apprehension as he headed down the hallway to the sign-in sheet. He had been so lost in his thoughts he barely registered the large door at the end of the hallway finally coming to a rest as if someone had just pushed it open.
A feeling of cold as if he had fallen into icy water washed over him. He stood there holding the clipboard. “Jed?” He knew it wasn’t him, Jed wasn’t a practical joker and he would have had to sprint to get down here before Mike.
Mike pushed through the double-hinged door. The warehouse was at least twenty degrees cooler than the hallway. The smell of coffee was strangely absent again. The lack of heat seemed to have Mike frozen in indecision. “Are you the thing I saw at our apartment?” Mike asked.
“Mike,” he heard his name faintly. If he had had a change of clothes handy, he might have soiled the ones he was wearing just out of sheer terror. He heard his name again, only this time it was behind him.
“Jed?” He said as he pushed back through the warehouse door. Jed was leaning against the wall at the far end of the hallway. He was clutching his chest. “Jed!” Mike said louder, running toward his friend.
Mike watched as Jed’s form went rigid and then he collapsed to the floor. By the time the ambulance and fire department got there Jed had turned the hue of a violent winter morning sky.
“He didn’t suffer,” the EMT said as he witnessed Mike’s distress. “He died before he hit the floor.”
Only he hadn’t, Mike thought. Oh sure, Jed’s heart had stopped and he was no longer taking breaths but when Mike skidded to a stop by his fallen friend’s head, Jed’s eyes had still been open and were focused on him. “You’re a good kid, Mike—who’s that with you?” he asked, looking over Mike’s shoulder, and then he was still.
“No!” Mike had said defiantly, stepping between Jed and whatever harbinger had come. It had been far too late. Mike thought he heard the echo of laughter on the cold breeze passing through him.
Mike and Jandilyn sat in the front row along with Grace for Jed’s memorial service. The church was three-quarters packed. Mike knew Jed was a great guy, but had no idea he had so many friends and family. He considered it an honor to be counted among them. Mike was in a daze throughout most of the service, he could feel eyes upon him but every time he would do a quick scan of his surroundings he never saw anyone focused on him; most were wiping tears from their faces.
“If anyone would like to say a few words?” the priest asked.
Mike rose woodenly and walked to the pulpit. He tried to clear the knot in his throat. “Jed was a lot of things to a great many people—husband, father, grandfather, crappy card player (that elicited some laughs and a couple of ‘ain’t that the truths’ from the crowd), but he was also my friend. He took on a kid that life had kind of twisted into knots and gave him a chance. My fiancée, Jandilyn, and myself loved Jed and his wife Grace who invited us into their house dozens of times over the last few years for dinners and barbecues, mostly I think because they knew we hadn’t eaten anything better than Ramen noodles for the last week (more small laughs). I cared so much for the man, I had asked him to be my best man at our upcoming wedding.” Mike broke down, he turned away as tears free fell from his face. Grace, Jed’s wife, came up and wrapped her arms around a now sobbing Mike.
“He loved you, we love you both so much. We consider you family.”
“I’m supposed to be consoling you, Grace,” Mike said haltingly.
The gray skies finally let go their yield as Jed’s casket was lowered into the ground. “Fitting,” Mike said as he put his hands out to collect some of the cold water to rub on his face. “I’ll miss you
, dear friend,” Mike said as he tossed a flower onto the casket. He was empty inside. Mike and Jandilyn left the cemetery hand in hand.
CHAPTER TEN - The Wedding
Jandilyn’s parents had come around somewhat on the urging from Mr. Hollow that Mrs. Hollow should make things right with her daughter no matter what she thought of the man who was marrying her.
“For God’s sake, Drew, he’s a goddamn security guard. He must bring home a whopping three hundred dollars a week. What kind of life is that asswipe going to give our little girl.”
“Our ‘little girl’ is twenty-two and that ‘asswipe’ as you call him saved our daughter’s life.”
She waved his response away. “So what! This isn’t colonial Japan, she doesn’t owe him the rest of her life in return.”
“For Chrissakes, Gina that isn’t what this is about. She loves him.”
“Love? How pathetic—marriage is about creating a stronger union among individuals, a collecting of wealth.”
“Yes, look how well that’s worked for us,” Drew said sarcastically. Gina sneered at him.
“With or without your blessing, I’m helping them out.”
“Throw them some welfare money. They’ll be just like the coloreds in the Bronx, waiting for the mailman to bring them their crack money.”
“What in the hell are you talking about? I’m going to help them have a small ceremony and a little seed money to start their new life together. Crack? Coloreds? When did you become a cynical racist?” Drew began to walk out of the room. He didn’t want to be anywhere near this stranger. He turned back before he was completely out the door. “The ceremony is next month, I bought you a ticket on the flight but I suspect I’ll be traveling alon
e.”
“I wouldn’t go if it were to save my very soul.”
“That would imply that you had one,” he said as he walked out of the room, wondering why he had wasted the last twenty-two years of his life with her.
***
The ceremony was beautiful in its simplicity. Jed and Grace had previously discussed renting out a small function room for Jandilyn and Mike. Grace had seen no reason to not follow through, the day was a beautiful seventy degrees, the grounds were on a small hillside looking out onto the Pacific. The wedding was held outdoors.
“Thank you, Grace,” Mike had said, giving her a huge hug.
“Mike, that’s at least the seventeenth time you’ve said that, I get it.” Grace said as she stood by his shoulder.
“This isn’t weird for you being my best man?” Mike asked, stooping down to her ear so he wouldn’t be heard by the fair number of Jandilyn’s friends and family that had showed.
“I’m honored you thought highly enough of me enough to ask.” She beamed.
“Thank you, Grace.”
The organist started up the wedding song and Mike thought his heart might have stopped for a few beats as he caught site of Jandilyn coming down the aisle. Mike bent over slightly as his contact slid. As he came back up, his heart almost stopped beating for the second time that day, black flecks that looked like a cloud of flies were at the periphery of Jandilyn’s aura, but even that could not hold a candle to the sight of the thin black clad man that stood next to the organ player, its features were blurry as if being viewed from underwater. One thing Mike could tell was that whatever the creature used as eyes, they were fixed on Jandilyn.
“No!” Michael screamed, the thin man whipped around to look at Mike and when it realized it was visible it dissipated much like the apparition in their apartment.
“You alright?” Grace asked. “My God, you have no color!”
Mike rocked on his heels and if not for the steadfastness of Grace he would have pitched over face first.
The organist who had stopped at Michael’s scream resumed. When Grace was certain Mike wouldn’t topple she had urged the player on. Jandilyn was looking up at Mike, confusion clearly across her features.
Color was flushing into Mike’s cheeks as he now became the focus of the wedding guests.
“I’m sorry… I—”
“It’s my fault,” Grace said slyly. “I told him an inappropriate joke.” The crowd seemed to titter and then relax.
“Thank you, Grace,” Mike said softly as Jandilyn resumed her march down the aisle.
“You alright?”
“I saw something, that’s all,” Mike said, vaguely not wanting to elaborate—ever.
The rest of the wedding went off without a hitch Mike’s earlier outburst all but forgotten. Mike swore when they got back from their honeymoon he was going to see about having his contact super glued in place.
“You saw something again, didn’t you?” Jandilyn asked as they lay in their bedroom that night before heading out on their honeymoon.
He thought about lying, but they were married now, that transgression seemed to carry more weight. “I did.”
“The same thing that was here?” she asked.
Mike could feel the ripples of goose bumps form on her skin. “Yes, I think. I don’t know,” Mike said, trying to avoid finding an answer.
“Is there more you’re not telling me?”
Vows or not, he would not voice his fears. To do so would bring validity to them. “No.”
***
As beautiful as Hawaii was, courtesy of Jandilyn’s dad, Mike could not relax. He imagined every possible bad outcome, from the flight plunging into the deep blue sea, to attacks by hammerhead sharks every time Jandilyn even looked at the ocean.
“Mike, don’t get me wrong,” Jandilyn said after a particularly long marathon session. “Being in bed with you is phenomenal. But how often are we going to get to Hawaii? I want to go exploring.”
“What if the volcano takes this inopportune time to go all volcanoey?” Mike asked, raising his hands as if they were hot magma.
“Volcanoey? Mike this is Oahu, only the big island has an active volcano.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s go for a drive, I’d like to see the North Shore where they do all the surfing competitions.”
“Are there sharks?”
Jandilyn just looked at him with her head tilted. “You’re acting strange. I mean even stranger than normal.”
“Fine, let’s go look at the big waves. If I see a killer whale, we’re coming back.”
“Fair enough.” She laughed.
“I’m serious,” Mike said seriously.
“I got that. Come on, you’re being a wet shirt.”
“Better than wet pants.”
Jandilyn drove their rental Ford up the Likelike Highway, then went on to Highway 91 which was something of a misnomer unless two lane roadways not much wider than what a rickshaw would feel comfortable on, now qualified as such.
“Jandilyn, wait-wait,” Mike said as he peered out of his window. “It’s the Dole plantation. This is where they grow pineapples!” Mike said excitedly. “I fucking love pineapples, but wait,” he said with confusion, “it’s empty. All the fields are empty—where the hell are the trees?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Jandilyn asked, pulling over so she could safely look at the same fields Mike was with the huge Dole sign.
“I don’t see a tree for days,” Mike said, stepping out of the car. “Did they have a fire or something? Oh, man, there’s going to be a huge shortage of them now, I bet they’ll cost like ten bucks a pound if you can even get them.”
“Mike,” Jandilyn said, tapping him on the shoulder after she also had got out of the car. Mike was pacing up and down the roadway, contemplating how he was going to stock up on his favorite fruit before he couldn’t afford it anymore.
“Yeah, Hon?” Mike said, wiping his hand over his face.
“Pineapples don’t grow on trees.”
“What? You’re shitting me, right? Are you just trying to make me feel better?”
“Mike, look at the ground. Closer,” she instructed while his eyes were still dancing around.
Mike looked from where he expected trees to be blooming to the ground where spiky green leaves where poking out of the dirt.
“Holy shit, Jandilyn, I’m looking at it and I still don’t believe it. I really thought they grew from trees.”
“Convinced yet?”
“Not yet, but we can get going. This still might be a conspiracy.”
“Yeah, they uprooted the trees and buried a few of the pineapples just to fool you.”
“It could drive the prices up too,” Mike said, failing miserably to defend his position.
***
The North Shore of Oahu is what most folks who travel to the island expect it to be. Laid back Islanders with ponytails, locals surfing in the huge breaking waves, whales within sight of the coast. Deep blue waters, dotted with sailboats. Local eateries with reasonable prices offering a variety of local cuisine heavy on the spam. What the vast majority encounter instead is Waikiki beach where the sand is so packed with tourists it is impossible to make it to the water without stepping over the quilted patchwork of oversized beach towels as thousands of tourists try to parcel out an eight foot square segment of beach. Traffic rivals downtown LA, fine dining establishments can set someone back two hundred dollars for appetizers and the tourist trap is in full-on money-squeezing mode.
It was quiet on the North Shore except for the occasional seagull. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful seventy-five degrees with a cooling breeze coming off the ocean and still Mike could not relax.
“Maybe we should move a few more feet up the beach,” Mike said as he watched a whale breach a half mile away from their location.
“This place is perfect, Mike,” Jandilyn said, looking up from her book. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on in that head of
yours? And don’t give me that ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ crap.”
“How well do you know me?” Mike asked, clearly confused that his new wife could see so easily through him. “Will I ever be able to have a secret again?”
“Probably not, so out with it—what’s going on?”
Mike took a heavy breath, to have fears was one thing, to voice them was another. It gave them life or so the superstition goes. “Jandilyn, I saw something,” he started. She prodded him on. “The day of our wedding, my contact slipped.”
“You saw more than the ghost?”
Mike wasn’t convinced that what he was seeing was a ghost, but that seemed like the least benign of all the possibilities, so he went with that.
“I did.”
“And?”
“Are you kidding me? Are there messages flashing on my forehead or something?”
“Your transparency is one of the things I love about you.”
“Great, I’m the glass man.”
“Mike.”
“Sorry. Jandilyn, there was something around you too.”
Now she sat up. The last time Mike had seen something around her, Roger had meant her a great deal of bodily harm. “Like the time at the library?” she asked.
“No, it was different. There were all your colors like normal, but right on the edges were these little flecks of black, almost like ash from a fire.”
“Do you know what it means?”
“I don’t, Jandilyn, and that’s why I’m so afraid. If something were to happen to you, I would cease to exist.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. Besides, I’m fine.”
“And what would you have said the morning you left to go to the library?”
“Michael!” she shouted. “We cannot live our lives like that. Always looking over our shoulders.”
“Are you sorry you married me?”
“Are you insane?”