The note Pad

How will Sarah find her way home, most important, how can she get his note pad back to him without his knowledge?

Sarah O'Neil past the salt to the man seated adjacent to her.

“Thanks for coming at such short notification.” Sarah whispered across the round table. It wasn't part of her character to phone up a complete stranger and make a time and place to meet. Sitting awkwardly she wriggled to get comfortable.

“You do not need to whisper in Restaurants. Whispering is for libraries and classrooms. Not for two young attractive people who are supposed to be on a date together.” Sarah looked right into his emotionless face. She frowned.

“What are you talking about? Do you think this is some kind of joke? You don't even know what your job is. You might get a shock and leave.” Sarah finished feeling a wave of heat rise up her neck.

“Let's order.” He said as though she had said nothing at all. Sarah watched him click his fingers and gain the waiters attention. He went ahead and ordered a meal without asking Sarah's opinion. She shrugged the rudeness off. Maybe he needed to be offensive. She had to keep her mind focused. Everyday her struggles in her mind became worse. Week by week they crept upon her at the oddest times. Her thoughts had built bars around her. She was trapped in her thoughts and she had to get free.

“What is the job?” He asked getting right to the point. “I need names, addresses and occupations.” He placed a pad on the table along with a pen on top. Clearing his throat he pushed them across the table. Sarah stared at the black leather. Her hands were fixed under the table. A waiter placed a bowl of soup in front of her long with a plate with two slices of toast in the middle.

“Thank you.” She echoed the stranger,

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

“A note pad and pen, nothing to be scared of,” he smirked picking up his spoon and tasting his soup. “Mmm, this is great stuff,” he continued then recognizing the enormous stress she was putting herself under. He cleared his throat again. “It is potato and cauliflower soup. The best.” He finally answered. Sarah smiled. “You know who I am, you know what I do. Am I wasting my time?”

“NO!” Sarah raised her voice a bit too loud to her liking, and then softened it. “I am paying you. I will do this at my pace. Do not pressure me!” Sarah felt her heart race.

“Lady, I do my job well. I do it clean and I'm invisible. At this pace, this is your pace. By, mmm, let's see?” He pointed to his wristwatch. “I will not be invisible and either will you and I know, you know, what happens from then on.” His eyes narrowed as he continued. “So, if you don't mind opening that note pad and write what you came here to write or throw it this way and I will be on my way.” He breathed out across the table. Sarah sat stunned in her chair. After all she was the one paying him. She blinked tears from her eyes. “Oh man! I don't have time for a blabbering mess on my hands. Give me the note pad.” He demanded while appearing to be enjoying his meal. Sarah snatched the pad from the table and kept it out of his reach. She stared hard into his now darken blue eyes. She paused, holding the note pad close to her chest and watched him continually sip his soup with one eye on the note pad. She followed his lead. Took her spoon and sipped while watching his every move. Suddenly, he took his eye off her and quickly looked about the room. Fear prickled her heart. He jumped up from his cool composer and swept her off her feet, flinging her over his right shoulder.

“This is not being invisible!” Sarah screamed feeling her stomach wanting to explode over his bony shoulder. He dashed into the crowd. Sarah looked up, seeing two men running their way. Both wearing scarves on their heads and holding their hand on their right hips. She closed her eyes wondering what she could have possibly been thinking when she organized the meeting. Her head swung crazily to the right as they spun into an alleyway. “What is going on?” Sarah demanded to know. He placed Sarah on her feet and slid sideways against the wall that was decorated with graffiti. He slowly curled his head around the corner, swung around, clamped Sarah's wrist and dragged her towards him. “What are you doing? You're hurting my wrist!” She screamed for his attention.

“Keep up woman! Run faster!” He responded between breaths. They kept running from alley to alley, from street to street. Sarah attempted to look back several times, but each time she was struck with another powerful pull towards the stranger. They stopped. He opened a wooden door. They both scampered inside the darkness. He closed the door and wedged a piece of timber against it. Sarah felt her chest. She cupped her hands around her mouth, trying to control her rapid breathing. Her breaths became short. Dizziness clouded her mind. She found a wall and slowly slipped down trying to regain her breath. She felt a hand cover her mouth. Who really was this man?