More story to come, just felt like adding this piece to fill some space.
When I was younger, I ran around with a crew, getting into all sorts of adventures late at night. There are dozens of these, each more difficult to believe than the previous, so just take this at face value. I was there, it did happen, it was even documented in newspapers later.
On one adventure, we took an elevator to the top floor of a parking garage, then walked the ramp up to the rooftop. Looking around, there was nothing unusual, just a 4 foot retaining wall on all sides, so cars didn’t just go flying off on the very top floor. One of our group said, “goodbye cruel world”, and jogged towards the front wall. We all stood wondering what was next. He vaulted the wall with one hand placed on top and yelled “aaaahhhhh!” as he disappeared from sight. Half of us panicked and rushed the wall to look over. And there he was, squatting comfortably on a concrete pad that extended way past the wall. Everyone had a good laugh, and some of us took a seat on the edge, dangling our feet in the air about 7 stories up. A woman on the ground was walking towards the garage, heard the calamity, and looked up to see us. “Daredevils!”, she yelled, and shook her fist disapprovingly. That really set us off and everyone was wheezing laughing at the absurdity of the situation.
Our group learned the wall jumping trick, and some of us would splinter off into other groups, taking them there and repeating the joke. Sometimes on the west side (front), sometimes on the south side.
Would have been cool to stop there, but another group that we didn’t even know also went up there months later, repeated the trick, but on an abnormal side. There was one problem. There was no concrete pad on that side, only on the other three. Someone jumped the wall not knowing this, and flew 7 stories down to the sidewalk below. It made the newspapers in Oklahoma City.
Needless to say, we felt that death had cursed the site and we never went back; maybe once to say farewell and jump the west wall while recanting the newspaper story.
The parking garage is still there. We left a symbol carved into the aluminum divider between the glass panes on the west side elevator exit, maybe the 5th or 6th floor.
Dec searched the room with his eyes, quickly, as if reacting to some kind of training, before replying, quietly. “This was my idea, to meet with you in private. Other people on my team suggested some other forms of persuasion, but I’ve had a lot of luck just being honest with,” the target, he wanted to say, “people of interest. It’s not a list you want to be on. Stumbled across it, I guess, but I can’t protect you from negative outcomes if this thing continues.” The last sentence just kind of hung in the air as they both sipped their coffee. An uncomfortable silence was forming as the seconds ticked by.
“Got any eggs in the fridge?”, Dec asked. Res replied, “coffee and breakfast, yes please!”, as she opened the fridge and started unloading everything she wanted to eat, all raw ingredients. Enough for some Denver omelets, for two hungry and almost hung-over people. “You know,” Dec teased, “this is gonna go straight to your hips.” Res winked and said, “got a problem with that?”. She was keeping it light, although he had lit an ember of fear deep within her heart that she was trying to hide. Dec smiled and set to work, chopping peppers and ham, as Res worked alongside him, helping lay out the frying pan and setting the table with plates and silverware. Neither of them said a word until the omelets were done, acting just like an old married couple. Res couldn’t believe this was real. It was too natural, too easy. But it felt so good. She wished breakfast with Dec would become a regular thing. Would she be enough, without these little secret messages and warnings, to bring him back? As she ate her omelet and sipped her coffee, they made small talk while she pondered the future, and wondered what was so dangerous about them finding essentially nothing. Dec made a damn good breakfast; she was sure of that.
Dec scoured the ceiling with his gaze while he found just the right words. “Well you see,” he bellowed over the next song, “I’m kind of on the clock. Weird hours.” He shifted in his seat, pulling a piece of paper out of his back pocket. It was another origami piece, this time a paper balloon that was collapsed. “Ever see one of these?”, he asked. “I think so. You’re supposed to pull on these corners then blow in the hole to pop it open, and look inside, right?” “You got it. Try it.” Res studied it briefly, lifted it up by the “wings”, and puffed into the exposed hole on the end, inflating the balloon. She peered inside, where a little handwritten note said “Is it private here?”. Res slowly sat the balloon down, stared at Dec, and nodded yes. “Good,” Dec said, “because I have another message to deliver. I don’t know who this is for, but you guys gotta stop chasing this ghost. It sounds dangerous. They’re getting more than concerned. Don’t get me wrong, they didn’t exactly twist my arm to get me to deliver the message, and I hate that it has to be like this, but…” Before Dec could finish his sentence, Res practically jumped across the table and laid a passionate kiss on him, feeling some stubble grind into her tender skin. The contrast just made her more excited. “Let’s finish this lecture later,” she said as she started pulling his shirt over his head. Dec was stunned but he put up no resistance; business and pleasure, why not? Res quickly reached behind herself and instantly released her bra before removing her own shirt, pressing her skin against his with another kiss. She felt his heart pounding. It was powerful, nearly audible. Without losing the embrace, Dec stood up and carried her to the bedroom, quickly noticing a new toothbrush still in the packaging at the foot of the bed.
After some time, lying flat on his back covered in sweat and Res’ lipstick, with Res draping herself over his massive frame, left leg overlapping his own, he took a really good look at her. Skin, impossibly soft and young to the touch. If he hadn’t read her file, he might have easily mistaken her for a 17-year-old, and this would never have gone this far. Her eyes were a light brown, hazel color, even here in the dimly lit bedroom, they looked like there was an inner light making them glow. He reached over with his Terminator arm and stroked the shaved side of her head which felt freshly shaven. Her gaze darted around his face as he touched her gently, apparently awaiting some more encouraging words. He managed to pet the side of her head that wasn’t shaved and was surprised at how soft her hair was. “Most men aren’t this touchy; I’m surprised you’re still awake with me. This whole touching business is usually me after the guy falls asleep,” Res cooed, while she absorbed every brutal detail of his scars and his iron-jawed visage. Contrast. Suddenly she was transported back in time, mentally, to the story about how her parents met. Was this what mom experienced, the first time? This infatuation, this weird appreciation for the exotic?
Dec announced that he was overdue for a bathroom break and ducked into the bathroom to relieve himself. His scent was already soaked into the pillow and sheets where he was laying, and Res didn’t miss an opportunity to deeply inhale what he had left behind. There were no hints of colognes, or aftershave, or anything of that nature. It was just…his sweat, with a hint of some kind of soap. As Dec returned to the bed, he reached for the toothbrush. “Not so fast, soldier,” Res teased. She wasn’t done, and led him by the hand to the shower. Res traced the scar around his arm with a single finger. She couldn’t comprehend what was under the skin.
The next morning, Res was still asleep as Dec performed his sit up straight and get out of bed routine. He headed to the kitchen and started brewing some coffee with the percolator, after fishing around in the cabinets for mugs and coffee beans. He really didn’t want to reinforce the message with Res, but he had to. That was the whole point of coming over, and this was no time to get attached. But before he could even come up with a nicer way of breaking it to Res, he heard her from the bedroom. “If you’re making coffee, I want some,” she said, “doesn’t need to be fancy, I’ll drink it black.” Of course you will. That’s the way Dec was making it. He didn’t have the luxury of sugar or milk during wartime, so he learned to like it black. Tasted better anyway, as long as the beans were fresh.
Res arrived in the kitchen looking like a big kid, with Dec’s oversized shirt practically swallowing her whole. This was the awkward time, the morning after, and she sensed an uneasiness hanging in the air. What was last night? Just two desperate loners looking for a connection, or something better? She had to tread lightly. Decided to keep it light. “Good, you found everything”, she said, smiling approvingly, as she admired the fresh cup, still steaming. “Yep. I did. But at my place, everything is about 3 feet higher. You’d be crawling up the cabinets if the roles were reversed. Nearly threw out my back bending down for this stuff,” Dec joked, and Res grinned as she blew the steam away for her first sip. “Listen, Res, about last night…”, said Dec, “I don’t want it to be weird. We’re two adults, and here we are sharing some coffee. But that wasn’t my whole intent of coming over. I know how this sounds, but allow me to finish.” Res nodded and sipped the hot coffee, not sure where this was going.
Dec paused as he took a drink, then continued. “I’ll say this one last time, and be done with it. You remember before, the warning about ghosts? Well, there is a lot of interest, and it involves you, Sheepdog, and hell, maybe even Beat. Too many eyes watching for something that shouldn’t exist. Looking too closely. You gotta stop looking. If you find something, well, I don’t know what the next step is, but it’s bad, maybe even deadly. Tell your buddy Sheepdog too. Maybe even word for word. Don’t get me wrong, I like you Res, and that’s half the reason I’m saying this in person.”
Res was staring at him, wide-eyed now, soaking it all in. What could happen if they did find something? What if they already found it but just didn’t know what they had seen? She could tell, Dec was dead serious. This was their last warning. Whatever was going on, she felt they needed to get about ten miles from it, immediately. “So if that’s half the reason, what’s the other half?”, she quipped.
