Future Writer Chapter 14 (6 pages)

Chapter 14

"This stinks!" I thought to myself.

It seemed fantastic to get this wonderful power from what had Clancy given me and nature slaps me in the face with it.

‘If’ I can now read minds as a result of Clancy's writing then Alexia really is MY creation. She is the perfect woman for me, and yet everybody else is the perfect man for her.

I wondered if my grandfather ran into this too? I open the ledger to where my grandfather had written and read:

Daniel thinks it to be strange that there is no sign of the shack on the beach. "Was it all dream?" he asked himself. "That must be it."

Daniel begins to walk back to the port where the ship was docked.

"...But if it were all a dream then where did I get this?" he asks himself while looking at the ledger.

Daniel looks to his arm and sees the scratch marks that the Frenchman caused during the scuffle, yet still, there was no shack. Before long Daniel is standing in front of the gangway leading up to the ship.

"Daniel! Get aboard," Yells a crew member from railing of the ship. "A storm is heading right for us. We need to set the sea and anchor detail."

"Aye mate! I'll be right up."

Daniel climbs up the mizzen mast crow’s nest to be the aft lookout through the harbor. Once in the crow’s nest he can see over the tops of the harbor buildings and see for himself the approaching storm. The crew soon drops sail and heads out to sea. Before the hour is up the storm is upon them. The wind that is pushing ahead of the storm helps push them to the safety of the sea.

At fifteen mile out they drop anchor before the sea get too rough. They secure from the sea and anchor detail and wait out the storm. Daniel goes below decks to the main cargo hold so that he could look more closely at the newly begotten ledger. On the first page he begins writing about an author named Clancy, who was writing about himself in the form of a fictional character named Daniel, who was writing about Sampson.

Narrator: I had to stop and think about what was going on. My grandfather was writing about an author named Clancy who was writing about Daniel, but in order

to demonstrate himself as being Daniel, he had Daniel write about himself as Sampson. This is beginning to get confusing.

The story continued:

... Daniel began writing about Sampson's true adventure on the open sea. Then something unexplainable began to happen. All that Daniel had Clancy write about Sampson started to come true....

Narrator: "Woow!"

The story continued:

... Daniel wrote of a fair maiden named Ellie… Narrator: "My grandmother!" ... who was the most any man could wish for in a woman. She was gentle yet strong, eager and loving, and to top off all of that, she was as pretty as an Irish flower.

Narrator: "That's my grandmother."

... then Crrrack blasts a lightning bolt to the rolling sea. Daniel stops from his writing to go topside and watch the storm in it's glory.

"Narrator: That sounds like something that I would do.

I read for most of the night and I was just about to close the book when something I read reached right out of the book and grabbed my attention like a thunderstorm.

The ledger read:

Daniel stepped down from the gangway, and there she was. Just as pretty as a pearl she was. Daniel could not believe his eyes to see the woman he had written about, Ellie. Daniel approached her and asked if he knew her.

"Are you the one?" she asked Daniel.

"Yes," Daniel said without thinking.

"Good," she said, "My husband will be glad to see you."

Daniel was shocked to find out that the woman of his dreams was married.

Narrator: I had to stop to think things through. My grandfather used Clancy to write of Daniel in his own image, but in order to have his image he had to have Daniel write about somebody, so Daniel wrote about Sampson. My grandfather had Clancy write that Daniel (my grandfather's image) would meet Ellie, which he did, and when he did she was married just as Alexia was married. This was really getting confusing. Does this mean that Daniel's Sampson is writing about somebody else? Where does the chain end?... or does it? I almost began writing a chart so I could keep track of who was writing about whom but I was getting too tired to read any more. I began thinking about it more, and the more I thought about it the more confusing it became.

I went to sleep and had very real dreams of my grandfather. These were the kind of dreams, that when you wake up, you remember and feel their emotions.

The next morning I woke up to a fresh vibrant day. For some reason I was not gloomy about going to work. As I felt this feeling of being so alive I couldn't help but wonder whether or not somebody has written me as having this feeling.

I didn't want to think about it because it could go on forever. I walked into work like any other day. Right away Jane was on my case about lunch. Now that I knew what she was after, I didn't take too long to ignore her and get to the safety of my office. As usual I had a mountain of paperwork to go through, but for some reason, I didn't get worked up about it. This feeling was really strange being that I just found out that Alexia was interested in another guy. What was going on? I did what I needed to do, and things were going well when I began to get a strong feeling of distress. The first thing I did was walk over to the coffee lounge and get a large coffee with a LOT of sugar to make sure that I was not under the influence of any drugs. I continued working and feeling good about the day when, once again, I received that distressed feeling again. I had to find out what was going on. At lunch time I drove home and started up the barbecue. I took all of the steps to make the solution work and took the smoke deep into my lungs. I began scanning the minds of everybody that I could think of. When I came to Alexia I felt something was seriously wrong. I felt her thoughts as being scared and uncertain. I could not understand what she was thinking exactly because her thoughts were in a different language but the feeling was that she was caused of something that she denied. Her signal is faint. It was almost like listening to a radio station that was a long ways away, only I was not listening, I was feeling it. I couldn't make it out, then something caught my attention.

"Dong, dong, dong.... The no smoking sign#$%& ....Fasten seatbelts &^*#....

Bumps!"

She's on an airplane. Is the plane going to crash? Has it been high-jacked? Is there mechanical problems? What is causing her to have these feelings? And why is it getting weaker and weaker?

After a while I lost her signal completely. At first I thought that the drug was wearing off but when I focused on others, the signal was coming in strong. I just didn't get it. I drank down some Koolaid from the refrigerator and the thought pattern of others faded. I went back to work, only this time I wasn't in the great mood that I was in this morning. I tried to work on the projects which I had piling up in front of me, but I was not too unfocused on work. What was wrong with Alexia? After work I went straight home, ingested the drug and I could not find Alexia's thoughts. I kept getting run off thoughts from other people. After numerous unanswered phone calls I became worried for her. The sun was sinking low and I became so obsessed with finding out what was going on, so I decided to do something I haven't done in years. I decided to do a little RECON (reconnaissance) mission. In black sweat pants and sweatshirt I approached the target location, (her apartment). In the middle of the lawn I stood perfectly still as a car drove by. By doing this, the occupants in the car saw me as being another evergreen tree. Once the car has passed I looked in all direction for at least a minute to make sure the coast was clear. The only movement came from distant passers-by. With the help of a bicycle rack I leaped into a tree adjacent from her apartment window. The lights were dim. I waited in the tree for ten minutes waiting for signs of movement. There was none. After seeing no sign of occupancy and no passers-by, I jumped as quietly as a cat to the lawn and scurried to the hedgerow that was along the building. From the hedgerow I listened for another ten minutes for sound that would lead me to believe that she was home. All that I heard was the sounds of neighboring apartments. Before leaving the hedgerow I surveyed all alternate escape routes should the occupant arrive during the mission. I saw three covert and one overt options. One; I could do the preferred exit and walk out the front door, two; I could do the next best option which was exit through the window to the roof because it was not a ground floor apartment, three; I could do the least preferred of the covert options and remain in an unseen location within the apartment until the occupant falls asleep then exit. The third option was by far

the most risky. That left me with the last possible option which was to exit forcibly to the awareness of the occupant while concealing my identity.

With all possible escape options in my mind, at my disposal, I put on my rubber surgical gloves and walked to the front door. Looking down the aisle I saw nobody. I placed an convex lens over the peephole in the door so that I could see images on the other side of the door. I saw no movement. Then I did last security  measure. I knocked hard on the door and leaped around the corner and waited for an answer. There was no answer. It was safe to assume that nobody was

home.

In the keyhole of the dead bolt I inserted the tumbler shocking tool. With two snaps of the trigger the tumbler pins were shot into position and the barrel turned. I looked in each direction and in the peep hole, the coast was clear.

Slowly I opened the door and walked inside. In the dark I walked to the window and opened it as an alternate escape route. I made room behind the couch so I my hide should I need that option. Once that was done. I began surveying the apartment. I opened the refrigerator to see what kind of food she ate. It was nearly empty but what was in there was fruits and vegetables. The timer on the microwave oven was set but not run. I opened the microwave door. There was a bowl of raw vegetables. The onions were still crisp which told me that she left within the past four hours. I closed the door and continued. The kitchen was in an orderly and neat condition. Nothing was sitting out that didn't seem to be in use. There were no dirty dishes sitting on the counter. There was no food that wasn't placed in a proper storage container. Everything was in an orderly except an open school book and a cold cup of half drunk coffee sitting on the counter. This told me that she left unexpectedly, otherwise she would have closed the book, put it with the rest of the books on the shelf, and put away the coffee cup.

Looking through the living room, I saw the everything was in presentable condition. Nothing was left out by chance. Everything had a place. I started to walk into the bedroom when I heard movement from the hall outside the door. Without hesitation I leaped to the window, opened it, and crawled out onto the six inch window seal then closed the window behind me. I held tight to the window so I wouldn't fall to the ground below. I held myself there for more than a minute after the sounds in the hall had passed. I re-opened the window and crawled back inside. She was quite a housekeeper. Everything that was out was deliberately placed where it was as either a functional or decorative device.

The bedroom was another story. The closet was near empty with the door swung wide open and clothes on hangers were draped across the bed. The dresser and the night stand drawers were half opened and items looked to have been removed. The bathroom was in the same condition as the bedroom. The medicine cabinet and the drawers were left open and items were removed. Something caused her to leave in a hurry and unexpected. But what? I pushed "play" on the answering machine and I heard my messages from when I'd called her. I picked up the phone and hit the redial button to see where the last call was made.

"Department of Immigration. May I help you?" came the voice on the other end.

"Sorry, wrong number," I told her the hung up the phone.

Could she have been deported? but why so abruptly?

I decided to leave. I looked through the peep hole in the front door and saw that the coast was clear. I quickly opened the door, removed my gloves and walked out as if I were a guest.

The next day I called in sick from work and arranged that my phone system pages me so I can call back to give the illusion of being at home. I took my mind reading drugs and walked into the immigration office. After waiting in line for hours I reaches the front desk. I asked the lady there of Alexia. She typed the information into the computer.

"Extradited for the murder of her husband," her thoughts told me, but she said to me, "Who wants to know?"

"I do," I told her.

"Please take a seat," she told me, "and I'll get an agent for you."

I could read her thoughts from the voice on the other end of the phone, "He may be involved. Don't let him get away."

"Sir," she said to me, "an agent will be here in a moment."

"Is there a restroom?" I asked her.

"Just down the hall she nervously told me."

"Thank you."

I walked passed the restroom and out the back door. I walked at a very quick pace to my car without being seen. While driving away I glanced in the rearview mirror to see the woman and two agent rushing out the door.

I made sure that I wasn't followed then drove home then I drove to my apartment.

The next day I continued the sick leave from the day before. I wasn't sure what I should do, but I knew I couldn't just let things go. Alexia could be in a lot of danger. I had to take drastic measures.