Brink by Mikel Parry

CH – CAT PEOPLE

The ride towards the mystery man’s apartment seemed to take a lifetime. Thomas felt as if he was being held back by all things tangible. Feeling frustrated, he gazed out of the blacked out windows of the car he was stuck in. He saw the faces of all the people bustling about their normal city lives. At times he envied them. They were so oblivious to anything around them, so apathetic in their interactions with each other. The many details that each carried were utterly wasted on faked cordial greetings exchanged on mundane schedules. It seemed almost alien to imagine himself in such a life. Even now, as he was being dragged even deeper into the madness, he was finally starting to feel like himself again.

“Back there . . . I’m sorry if I came off a little rough. I’m just sick of losing people . . . friends.”

Thomas looked over at Banks who had remained quiet for most of the ride thus far. He was also gazing out of the car window, letting his eyes run over the world passing them by.

“I understand—it’s fine—I know I can be difficult at times.”

Banks looked at Thomas out of the corner of his eye.

“You think you can really catch whoever this is? It feels to me like chasing two tails at once.”

Thomas slunk back into his seat. Inside his head, his form of reason was traversing through the never-ending parade of fact and detail. Each passing moment a new piece of data would present itself, only to be slaughtered by some loose end or gaping hole in logic.

“Catch isn’t my job. I’m here to pick up all the bread crumbs. I’ll let you guys do the catching.”

Banks shook his head slightly. Thomas’ overbearing attitude was getting old.

“We can do our job just fine. It’s yours I’m worried about.”

The car came to an abrupt stop, interrupting a would-be rebuke from Thomas. The car quickly emptied as each suited enigma moved rapidly out.

“You sure this is the right place? Seems like David Schilling could be a pretty common name.”

Thomas rapidly recited every David he had ever met that was of interest..

“I’m sure,” Vaun assured him. “Our intel is the best. As long as the details you provided me accurate, we’ll find him.”

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. The seats in the car were horribly uncomfortable. For it being a car belonging to a secret organization with a seemingly blank check, it was a failed oversight. Stepping out of the car, a strange feeling swept over him and skewed his thoughts for a minute. The building they were standing outside of was foreign to him, and yet it wasn’t. Something was distinctly familiar about it.

As the pair walked into the main entrance, they were met by a literal cavalcade of human life. People coming and going, all caught up in some sort of seemingly important activity. No one seemed to notice the duo’s existence in the slightest. A small dog came into view.

“I know that dog,” said Thomas aloud.

A portly beagle pranced by tugging its slender leash behind him. The owner of the dog suddenly came chasing after it.

“Trixie! Get back here!”

Thomas didn’t know why but he smiled. It was like he was revisiting a warm piece of his own past.

“Dog?” questioned Banks.

“Forget it; it’s meaningless.”

Thomas watched as the owner of the dog finally caught the tail end of the leash and reined in the loose canine. He was so caught up in the moment that he neglected to move out of the way of a woman heading towards the door. His shoulder plowed into her sending her reeling back. A slew of profanity instantly erupted.

“Hey! Watch it, buddy!”

Thomas glanced over to see a slender woman dressed neatly in workout clothes. He caught her eyes and gasped. It was the same woman from the hallway. He couldn’t shake the image of their intimate encounter in the hall. Unable to break his stare, the situation only worsened.

“Hey, creep, what’s your problem?”

Thomas was unable to find the right words to say. He only remembered her as a still statue frozen in time. The vibrant woman that stood before him now was unbelievable. Taking one last look at him, the woman shook her head and wandered off. As she passed she let him have a few more choice pieces of her mind dipped in a heavy vat of obscenities.

“What’s your problem? You keep stalling and making a scene.”

Thomas shrugged.

“Just adjusting to reality, I guess. I’m a little behind the times.”

Banks rolled his eyes at Thomas’ witty pun. But he was not amused. To him the situation was dire. Every moment they wasted would be one they would never get back. But to Thomas it was just more dots. Millions of dots, all moving about, somehow connected to other dots. It was an infinite game of relationships. Never before in his life had he seen such a clear standard of cause and effect.

“He’s upstairs. Let’s be quick and avoid any more attention, alright?”

Thomas nodded his head. He already knew where to go. Everything was falling into place. It was as if his own glimpse into the past had now become a part of him. Nostalgia crept into his heart like somehow the place actually meant something to him.

What is happening to me?

Taking one of the nearby elevators, the two stood quietly for a moment. The elevator chimed as it passed each floor. Quaint, retro elevator music played producing ambient background music. While standing there motionless, Thomas looked over at an elderly woman holding a ball of fluff. The ill-mannered feline growled at him, watching his every movement. Feeling slightly put out, he smiled at the owner to help remedy the situation. She glanced at his hat and suit and sneered. He looked away and sighed.

“Cat people . . .”

A ding and a whoosh announced that they had arrived at their floor. Looking behind, he watched as the old lady repeatedly pressed the close door button. Did he really look that threatening?

“Should be a couple doors down this hallway.”

“I know where it is. I actually took the stairs last time.”

Glancing down the end of the hall, he saw a little sign sitting in place as a warning. It appeared the stairs were under construction. This brought on another extremely odd feeling. To him, the change was rapid and dramatic. It felt like just a few moments ago he’d raced up them.

This is out of control.

“Thomas, stay focused. You’re really dragging me down here.”

Thomas puckered his lips and blinked. This was far more difficult than he had imagined. He was struggling to target just what tail to chase at the moment. Banks was right. Purging all of the convoluted mess from his mind as best he could, he sped up to catch Banks. Once he reached him, he saw the door. It was the very same door he had seen before. Only this time it was tightly closed. This begged a question he had not asked; why had it been ajar before? Perhaps a lackadaisical morning with a few things forgotten had left it that way. At this point it seemed irrelevant.

“It’s locked,” said Banks, turning the knob.

“Maybe you should try knocking first?” suggested Thomas.

Banks shot him an annoyed look but obliged. He gingerly knocked on the door and awaited an answer.

“Just where exactly are you from anyways? Nobody’s going to answer with that girl-scout-cookie knock.”

Thomas pushed Banks aside and rapped on the door. He waited for a few passing seconds before pressing his eye against the keyhole.

“Looks like nobody’s home. You got another plan?”

Banks let out a long sigh. Carefully, he pressed himself between Thomas and the door. He was prying a small piece of wire into the tiny keyhole. He maneuvered it about with expert precision.

“Where I’m from there’s no such thing as a closed door. Or did you never learn?”

With a quiet pop and moan the door jutted open. Thomas blushed slightly. His ego had dug the hole he was getting deeper in. Feeling slightly suspicious, he examined his surroundings quickly. No one appeared to notice the false owner’s entry into the room. The apathy of the city was astounding. So many eyes were readily available yet no witnesses could be found.

“Never been big on closed doors; most are closed for a reason.”

Cautiously, the two of them moved forward. Once inside it was as clear as day to Thomas where he was. Everything was still so fresh in his mind. The only real detail that was by-and-large gone was the woman. He didn’t know why, but a part of him wished she had still been here. There were some loose strings attached to her that he would have liked to tie up in order to calm his probing mind.

“This is it, but now what do you propose?”

Thomas lingered on Banks’s question for a moment. Just what was he going to do here, now, in the present?

“Now we play the game of connect the dots. Only we have to do it faster than ever before.”

“By all means,” said Banks, taking a seat on a couch sitting in the center of the room.

“What a bum.”

Thomas began perusing the room at lightning speed. He was doing a major overhaul on his cross-checking. Every item that had changed was noted. Everything that had remained in place was tossed to the side. He knew he needed more. He quickly tore through stacks of envelopes, piles of papers, and any drawers he could find. He had to find the more intricate details to fill in the holes.

“We need to understand his schedule. Where he goes and when; from there someone can work on the why. All I care about is his role in his monotonous day-to-day existence. He’s some sort of plumber; what does a plumber do, plumb? There’s got to be more to this.”

Without hesitation, Thomas ran to the fridge. He saw the jumble of magnetic characters with only one word clearly defined—Monday. This was obviously a habitual practice. Looking down at his watch he realized it was now early morning. More than likely the man was already at work, waiting for the clock to chime five to go home. So why would it matter that three months ago the word Tuesday had been changed to Tewsday?

Thomas muttered the word over and over again. It wasn’t the word he needed to focus on but the order of the letters.

“Get up and start looking for books this guy reads. Maybe he leaves notes or something like that.”

Banks look appalled by the request, but did as he was told. He rummaged through books, papers, and anything else he could find. Meanwhile, Thomas continued to ponder the word. There were so many relationships regarding the word Tuesday, that at some point he had been exposed to. But he needed the right one.

“I think I’ve got something here. Some books about astronomy, signs, and interpretations. This guy was really into this stuff.”

Thomas practically flew across the room. He looked down at the books and began scanning them frantically.

“Turn to anything that describes Mars.”

Banks flipped through the pages until he found a few worn pages describing the red planet. The pages were filled with meticulously scribed notes, all containing cryptic correlations of one type or another.

“What is all this?”

Thomas snatched the book out of Banks’s hands and let what he had been cultivating inside burst free.

“Tuesday—the name has origins. One is Tiwedaeg, or Tewesday in ancient English, thank you history class. It has a connection to some god’s name, which I can’t recall.”

“What do you mean you can’t recall? How can you remember all that other nonsense but forget that part?”

“It was college . . . there were a lot of distractions in that class, alright!”

Thomas remembered the tantalizing image of a brunette girl leaning back to stretch. This had taken precedence over the delicate details he was missing.

“But I do remember it’s related to Mars. Do you know Latin?”

“Why would anyone know Latin?”

Thomas felt frustrated with the limited resources he had to work with.

“Forget it; let’s just focus on what we’ve got. A man thoroughly involved in astrology signs or semiotics, a man who’s obviously got some interest in big red up there. Suddenly, in his daily routine his fridge reads Tewsday instead of Tuesday. What would he do then?”

The scene was coming together. The left ajar door, the half glass of orange juice, the lover left waiting. Scrutinizing the fridge for something he hoped had been left behind, he saw it—a tiny business card. On it was a peculiar set of cards with a giant eye hovering over them.

“It was there the whole time! Why couldn’t I see it?”

Thomas suddenly picked up his phone and began searching.

“What are you doing?”

“If I’m right, this minor alteration has probably spiraled out of control. I need some validations here. When’s the last time you’ve been to a psychic?”

A moment of reprieve came as a local listing which matched the business card came up just a few blocks away.

“Let’s go, we don’t have any time to waste.”

Baffled beyond belief, Banks quickly followed behind. He was blown away by the sudden transitions from one train of thought to another. Just trying to keep up with Thomas was proving to be mind-boggling. But like a hound on a trail, Thomas was in hot pursuit. With a fresh new target in sight, there’d be no stopping him now.

“Where exactly are we going? Could you please stop being so vague?”

Thomas paused for just a moment. He let the words stumble out of his mouth carelessly.

“To try and stop a murder.”