A Road to Nowhere. Bradleigh Munk
behind the counter and a homeless man trying to sleep and stay warm with his small cup of hot liquid. (Quietly I slid a five-pound note under his outstretched arm and continued to our table.) I hung my jacket on the hook attached to the divider between the booths and slid into the seat. We had clear views of the front door.
Moments later, she returned and set two small espresso mugs in the middle of the table, saying, “Your next date is on the left,” and slid it over to me. I took a small sip and tasted the best cup of java I had ever had.
“Wow, this is great,” I said as she slid into the other seat.
“I’m glad you approve. I have always liked this place. They have a consistent brew.” Looking over at me, she said, “I was hoping to get two books signed. Unfortunately, I was unable to find any other copies. I’ll have to settle on this paperback I purchased months ago. It’s a little tattered. However, it should do.”
I took the cap off my favorite pen for signing. “Who was the other copy for?”
“My brother asked me to acquire a copy for him. We have been sharing this one. Quite difficult when we are both trying to read it. His name is Brodrick Taylor.”
Why does that name sound so familiar? I thought. Putting the cap back on my pen and looking directly at her, I said, “You know, I have several copies back at the hotel. If you have a little time, I would be more than happy to sign an extra copy for you.”
“Oh, I can’t allow you to go through the trouble.” She was now looking quite red in the face.
“No problem at all. The hotel is only a couple of blocks down.”
“That would be so kind, but still.”
Without answering, I was up and putting my rain jacket on and heading for the door. The lady would not be outdone, passing me as we stepped outside.
Moving quickly, she said, “Let’s go. I love an adventure.” Her stride was twice as fast as mine, and before I realized it, I was running to keep up. When we arrived at the front entrance of the hotel, I had to stop to catch my breath. I was leaning against a front wall when she said, “I didn’t mean to cause you a medical.”
“That’s okay,” I said as I wheezed for air. “I always wanted to have a heart attack in London.” I said this a little too dramatically, joining in with her frivolity.
As we entered the lobby, Simon, the evening desk agent, looked up and smiled, seeing that I was in tow with this gorgeous tall woman. The lady in question said, “Have you had any dinner?”
“No, I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”
“Excellent! Meet me in the hotel restaurant, and we can sit and relax. I’m sure you could use a break.”
“That sounds great. I’ll be back in a flash.”
Walking slow, trying to look normal and not draw any attention, I caught the next elevator up, and as soon as I arrived on my floor, I raced down the corridor, almost running face-first into the door of my suite; my key card had failed to work on the first try. Rushing around, like a schoolboy getting ready for his first date, I ditched my day bag and gathered two hardback copies of my book—better quality, unlike the paperbacks I had been signing since we began this venture in London. Satisfied that I didn’t have anything stuck between my teeth, I headed back to find her still sitting in the lobby.
With a look of frustration, she said, “I have to apologize. My office just called, and they need me back to tie up some loose ends for a client.”
“No problem,” I said, taking the cap off my pen to sign the books. “I must, however, insist that I walk you back. It’s dark out there now, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” With no arguments, I signed each book, and we headed back to her car; after assuring her safety, I started back to the hotel.
Within two blocks, as the road became dark and moody, something felt out of place. I had a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood high and ready for attack. Without warning, someone rushed by and pushed me over toward a dark alley. I was then met with two other faceless goons clad in dark hoodies. All three took turns delivering blows to my stomach then my head, finally knocking me face-first into a drainage ditch full of dirty black water. Pulling me by my legs, I could feel the sting of cement scraping against the one side of my face; they were planning to finish me off. A warm red liquid filled my eyes, blinding me from any way to identify. As my mind started to drift into the void, I could hear several men yelling and screaming, creating a moment full of chaos and confusion; the beating had ended. As the blood continued to flow down my face, someone gently lifted my head and slid under what felt like a folded jacket; all I could think of at the moment was, I hope that it wasn’t something expensive. A large bloodstain would never come out. In the distance, sirens could be heard, becoming louder until, at their arrival, they fell silent. Giving in to the throbbing pain, I blacked out, only to be awakened by the jolt of vehicle tires hitting several potholes; I realized that I was safe and heading to the emergency. Someone to my right quietly asked my name. Looking up, with panic in my eyes, I found that I was unable to speak. I pulled the silver chain that was around my neck and handed it to them. (It had my vital information, including personal details, emergency contacts, and insurance policies.) “Bloody hell,” he said, “this is the author of that book everyone is talking about. We need to have an officer meet us when we arrive at the hospital.”
Chapter Four
The Harvester
Clark suddenly found himself walking down a dirt road to nowhere; for miles, all he could see were fields full of tall corn, ready to be harvested. The sun was hot, and as he enjoyed the warmth on his back and neck, he relaxed instantly, and his gait became slower and less hurried. “I have never felt this content in forever,” he said out loud. After about two miles walking east (he was guessing), he came into a small town full of early-nineteenth-century shops and small houses. Not one person or animal could be found, so he kept walking until he was on the outskirts of the small hamlet; eventually, he spotted a handsome midsize house nestled within several buildings found only on farmsteads. On the left were two gated pens, probably for hogs or perhaps cattle. Stopping at a path made from flat shale stones, he debated on what his next move should be; in a flash, he started up the walk toward the warm and inviting dwelling.
Arriving at the wraparound porch, he was greeted by an ample woman, perhaps in her late fifties or early sixties. Warm and full of comfort, the woman greeted him with, “You must be lost. I’ve never seen you in these parts.” Her smile was broad and inviting.
“Yes, I’m not from here. I seem to be lost, and I was wondering if you could tell me where I can find the closest pay phone.” After saying this, he thought to himself, When was the last time I even used a pay phone? If ever, most conversations were through text or cell.
Her confusion was all too evident. Replying, she said, “Pay phone? The only telephone I’m aware of is in the Hollins Dry Goods, and no one pays for it. No one could afford using the line since the only telephone it can reach would be long-distance.”
Slack-jawed, I couldn’t hide my growing panic. Where was I? I thought. Where was London? Starting to feel the excessive heat of the day, he began to feel dizzy and sat down onto the step leading to the house.
Slipping inside, the woman disappeared; returning shortly, holding a glass full of ice and something yellow, she handed it to him and said, “You must be suffering from sunstroke. Here, drink this. The sugar will refresh you.” Grateful for the kind gesture, he accepted the drink even though sugar was never on his diet. He took a small sip to be polite; he figured, after that he could return the unemptied glass and not offend her. To his surprise, the flavor was glorious and made his heart sing.
Probably the sugar, he thought; finishing the drink, he returned the empty glass to the loving woman standing in front of him.
Just then, a man pushed the screen door open and, like the woman, greeted him with warmth and love. “So, you are lost.