appearance.
“Guit, it’s like ten o’clock,” I said, turning the volume down on the stereo system on his side of the room.
“I’m sorry man, hey, my bad,” he half says half sings. He was well-intoxicated at this point. Him being here could only mean he got into an argument with his girlfriend.
I pay him nor the music no mind. I already know this routine. He’ll be back in her place by the weekend. I just wanted some rest. I fell on my bed like a tree getting cut down by a lumberjack. All I needed was someone to yell timber.
Before I realized it, I was asleep almost instantly. I hear a phone ringing over the music like an alarm clock. “Guit, get ya phone! Guit!” I yell over the music.
“Yeah, bro?” he answered.
“Phone!!”
I hear some racket, rambling and random noises of things hitting the floor as he searches his side of the room for a phone. “That’s not my phone, bro. Check your side, maybe it’s yours.”
I fully wake up and look at my pant leg. He was right, my phone was ringing. I grab it out of my pocket, it reads “Unknown” on my caller I.D. I answered, getting up to step outside for silence and fresh air. I look over the balcony, “This is Thomas!”
“Good evening, I was given the understanding that you have a love for the truth. I’m sure that’s what you and your colleagues have been aiming to get through to the U.S. for quite some time now I do believe,” a mysterious voice speaks with a rapid unfamiliar accent.
I paused, instantly I found myself completely awoke and aware. I hear my heart beat in my chest, but it wasn’t there. It had dropped to somewhere in my stomach. I had no clue how anyone could find out about what was going on. I became afraid and shaken. Not for me, but for the others and obviously, if this person contacted me, it had to be me who wasn’t covering my tracks. If I was going to Ft. Leavenworth for treason, I would go alone not revealing information on Shane, Bazz, or any other contact. I chose to get straight to the punishment, instead of hesitate. I chose to get a grip on myself. “Who is this, what’s your name?”
“My name? Tch!” I can hear him exhale with a hint of frustration. A heavy European accent answers, “You can just call me, John Todd.” That was obviously not his name, he’d been better saying John Doe. But, What did he want? Is it his intention to blackmail me, or is he C.I.D? I had no way of telling at this point, I had to play his game.
“Well, John Todd, how’d you get this number?” I ask with anxiety in my voice.
“You’re asking the wrong questions. You should ask, what do I want from you? Which would force me to answer: To meet and hold a conversation of truths. After that I suspect you will ask where. Which I will answer the Coo Coo’s Nest, when shouldn’t be a problem at all after my next statement.” He explains strategically mapping out the conversation without any help from me. “Which your curiosity to see what I could possibly be wanting to talk about will lead you to ask one final question which would be…” He pauses awaiting my answer after he so carefully designed the only optional question after who, where and why.
“When?” I asked.
“Godspeed.”
CLICK!
He hangs up abruptly.
I look at the time on my cell phone reading 10:07 p.m. and quickly head to my car. Driving past Battalion Avenue and making a left onto Tank Destroyer and straight out the east gate heading back out to the T.O.C. The whole time I contemplate whether I should call the others or not, and explain what’s going on with this John Todd. In the end, I thought it best I didn’t bend, cause if they’re legal authorities wanting someone to blame and make an example of, they would only have me.
I park in the back. I take a deep breath and let it out. I get out of the car and walk around to the front. Even though the Coo Coo’s Nest was a weekend party spot, it was open through the week as well. I walk around the
“Guit, it’s like ten o’clock,” I said, turning the volume down on the stereo system on his side of the room.
“I’m sorry man, hey, my bad,” he half says half sings. He was well-intoxicated at this point. Him being here could only mean he got into an argument with his girlfriend.
I pay him nor the music no mind. I already know this routine. He’ll be back in her place by the weekend. I just wanted some rest. I fell on my bed like a tree getting cut down by a lumberjack. All I needed was someone to yell timber.
Before I realized it, I was asleep almost instantly. I hear a phone ringing over the music like an alarm clock. “Guit, get ya phone! Guit!” I yell over the music.
“Yeah, bro?” he answered.
“Phone!!”
I hear some racket, rambling and random noises of things hitting the floor as he searches his side of the room for a phone. “That’s not my phone, bro. Check your side, maybe it’s yours.”
I fully wake up and look at my pant leg. He was right, my phone was ringing. I grab it out of my pocket, it reads “Unknown” on my caller I.D. I answered, getting up to step outside for silence and fresh air. I look over the balcony, “This is Thomas!”
“Good evening, I was given the understanding that you have a love for the truth. I’m sure that’s what you and your colleagues have been aiming to get through to the U.S. for quite some time now I do believe,” a mysterious voice speaks with a rapid unfamiliar accent.
I paused, instantly I found myself completely awoke and aware. I hear my heart beat in my chest, but it wasn’t there. It had dropped to somewhere in my stomach. I had no clue how anyone could find out about what was going on. I became afraid and shaken. Not for me, but for the others and obviously, if this person contacted me, it had to be me who wasn’t covering my tracks. If I was going to Ft. Leavenworth for treason, I would go alone not revealing information on Shane, Bazz, or any other contact. I chose to get straight to the punishment, instead of hesitate. I chose to get a grip on myself. “Who is this, what’s your name?”
“My name? Tch!” I can hear him exhale with a hint of frustration. A heavy European accent answers, “You can just call me, John Todd.” That was obviously not his name, he’d been better saying John Doe. But, What did he want? Is it his intention to blackmail me, or is he C.I.D? I had no way of telling at this point, I had to play his game.
“Well, John Todd, how’d you get this number?” I ask with anxiety in my voice.
“You’re asking the wrong questions. You should ask, what do I want from you? Which would force me to answer: To meet and hold a conversation of truths. After that I suspect you will ask where. Which I will answer the Coo Coo’s Nest, when shouldn’t be a problem at all after my next statement.” He explains strategically mapping out the conversation without any help from me. “Which your curiosity to see what I could possibly be wanting to talk about will lead you to ask one final question which would be…” He pauses awaiting my answer after he so carefully designed the only optional question after who, where and why.
“When?” I asked.
“Godspeed.”
CLICK!
He hangs up abruptly.
I look at the time on my cell phone reading 10:07 p.m. and quickly head to my car. Driving past Battalion Avenue and making a left onto Tank Destroyer and straight out the east gate heading back out to the T.O.C. The whole time I contemplate whether I should call the others or not, and explain what’s going on with this John Todd. In the end, I thought it best I didn’t bend, cause if they’re legal authorities wanting someone to blame and make an example of, they would only have me.
I park in the back. I take a deep breath and let it out. I get out of the car and walk around to the front. Even though the Coo Coo’s Nest was a weekend party spot, it was open through the week as well. I walk around the
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