Read Online The Messenger by T. Davis Bunn - Free Book Online Page A

his apartment doorway, felt himself shiver.
    Roskovitz noticed the change. “Something the matter?”
    Manny started to deny it. But there was something about this stranger and this moment that invited him to open up. “I think maybe I got a problem.”
    The guy slid the Book into the pocket of the seat in front of him, crossed massive arms. “One thing I learned about problems,” he said. “They’re a lot easier to handle if two people carry the load.”
    There it was again, that sense of an invitation. Of comfort being offered, and not just from the guy. From the moment. Manny swallowed, felt the pressure of years of holding back, standing alone, being his own man. But somewhere deep inside a door was being opened, one he didn’t even know existed before that moment.
    He said, “I think I’m being followed.”
    â€œYeah?” John showed only mild surprise. “You done something?”
    â€œYou kidding?” Manny had to smile. “I’ve done it all.”
    â€œKnow what you mean, know what you mean,” the guy murmured. Eyes still open and kindly. No judgment, no condemnation. Just sitting there, smiling through the roar of the takeoff, nodding a continual invitation for Manny to open up, let it out.
    But still it was hard. Manny had never spoken to anybody like this before, not in his life. “See, I found this pigeon, talk about out of it. Picked her pockets, came up with this thing, I dunno, I thought it was some kinda credit card. But when I stuck it in the bank machine, wham, I was gone . I mean outta here.” Manny stopped, inspected the incongruous face with its hard angles of brutal power and eyes of luminous light. “That make any sense to you?”
    â€œMight do,” the guy said easily. “But you just keep on, I like the sound of your voice.”
    â€œEver since then, I don’t know, there’s been one thing after another. It feels like,” Manny tried to shape the air in front of him as he went on, “like I’m being sorta guided . Not like, okay, here, take my hand and let’s go see what’s down the corner. More like, this is something I maybe oughta think about, even if it don’t make no sense at all.”
    â€œAn opportunity,” the guy said, speaking more quietly now that the plane was leveling off.
    Manny had to stop and stare. The guy was not only listening. He was understanding so well it was almost like he was hearing what Manny did not know how to put into words.
    Roskovitz waited with him for a time, then urged gently, “So what did you do?”
    â€œSometimes I took it, you know, whatever it was that I felt like was there for me,” Manny replied, his voice a little weak from the surprise that somebody cared enough to search out the deeper meaning. “But it’s hard. I mean, really hard. I feel like I’m fighting with myself.”
    Roskovitz nodded. “Hardest part of the struggle is at the turning. Up to then, you’re just moving with the flow. But you start to turn, then all the forces that held you tight start getting angry. Like they don’t want to let you go.”
    His pride pricked, Manny started to object, declare himself his own man. Then he thought about watching the shadows coalesce in the bar, about hearing that growl in his own apartment, and he kept still. All the forces that held him tight. Manny felt a chill burn like dry ice in his gut.
    â€œLong as you’re going the way they want you to,” Roskovitz went on, “everything’s fine. They let you think you’re on your own. Strong and powerful enough to face whatever comes. King of all you survey, like that.”
    Manny gave a tiny nod, a single jerk, almost against his will. This guy was reading him like a book, showing him things he sort of felt, but never thought about before. It left him uncomfortable. And scared. But wanting to hear more just the