Nicotine – Chapter 2

          After sending yet another mug of coffee to Cassie, Liz starts to work. She took Blake’s folder and looked at Blake’s picture. Then, clutching a copy of the target’s binder, she closed her eyes and concentrated, biting her lip. Slowly, a golden glow surrounded her being and formed a smoky shape above her head.

          The smoky shape, still glowing, floated off and disappeared through the ceiling. Having done that, Liz opened her eyes and went to the coffee machine and made a mug for herself. As she leaned against the counter, savoring her coffee, she wondered if her doppelganger at her campus is doing the assignment that’s due on Tuesday. 

          Meanwhile, the smoky shape has split into two upon exiting the building and streaked off into two different directions. One of them went straight towards a pub downtown, where Blake is now sitting, drinking with his best friend. It materialized into an exact copy of Liz right on the stool beside Blake.

          She blinked her eyes, trying to adjust to the dim light. Blake looked beside him and saw her, sitting there, clutching at a binder and trying to figure out where she is. Upon realizing she’s in a pub, a look of horror crossed her face. 

          “Oh, crap!” she cried out, making a few heads turn to look at her. She looked around and saw a few scary-looking men leering at her. She clutched the binder even tightly and struggled to remain calm. It’s not just the men in the pub that’s scaring her, too. She’s underage, and if she’s ever caught here, it’s not going to look good on her records. As she took a few deep breaths that stank of stale beer, she heard Blake’s voice next to her.

          “Hey, aren’t you…” he narrowed his eyes, trying to remember. “You’re that girl from the newsstand at the corner, right?”

          “Huh?” startled, she turned around and saw him. Immediately she breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized him. She handed him the binder. “No, I’m from the office just now. Although I do work at the newsstand on weekends,”

          “Oh, great,” he said as he received the binder. “Not even my first day and work already,”

          “Oh, and Cassie said to study that and meet her at her office at 10 tomorrow,”

          “Great. Thanks,” he replied, putting the binder of the counter and taking another gulp of his drink. “You’d better get out of here before security comes. The bartender’s gone for a while now,”

          “Um, okay,” she said, and faded into nothing, leaving behind an empty stool. Almost immediately a burly man walked in from the back door, looked around and walked back out. She’s just in time. 

          “Hey, who’s that?” the guy next to Blake asked him. He’s a tall, lanky man with messy brown hair falling all around his head, making his head look like a mop. His eyes are small and sharp, and his voice gives the impression of someone who’s always stoned. “That your new girl? A little too young, ain’t her? I’d watch out for Chris Hansen if I were you, buddy,”

          “Just shut up and finish your drink, Luke,” Blake growled, taking another gulp. 

          At that Luke burst into laughter and patted him on the back. “Hey, relax, dude. Jeez, you’ve been such a ray of sunshine lately,” and then he noticed the binder on the table. It was plain brown card, with CLASSIFIED stamped on the front cover. “Hey, what’s that?”

          “That, my friend,” Blake pulled the binder closer to him and placed his forearm on it. “Is what we’re celebrating right now,”

          “Work already?” his small eyes widened with surprise. “Whoa. They don’t waste any time, do they?”

          “Apparently not. Guess I’ll be going straight home after this,”

          “Aw, man!” Luke said, clearly not approving of the idea. “What about the chicas down at the club? I need a wingman, dude!”

          “Luke, I’m sure that the chicas will be all over your wingman if he decided to come,” he winked at Luke. “You’ll have a better chance with them if you go without me,”

          “Sheesh, whatever,” Luke rolled his eyes and finished his drink. He knew what he’s saying is true, anyway. So far, he’s not had much luck with women. The last time he had this bright idea for a double date with his best friend, he ended up going home alone. Both ladies went with Blake. He knew he should’ve resented him for that, but he’s his best friend for what seems forever.

          Besides, given his nature, he’d find the humor in that and laugh it off anyway. He stood up and picked up his keys from the bar counter. “You need a ride home?”

          “Nah, I’ll walk,” Blake said as he finished his drink and stood up, holding the binder at his side. “I need to stop somewhere on the way. Take care, buddy,”

          “Yeah, you too,” Luke said as he walked out. On the way he winked at a lady sitting alone at a table, smoking. The lady rolled her eyes and looked away. He shrugged and went out. Blake, on the other hand, took the back door and went into the back alley. It’s a shortcut to his apartment.

          He took a right turn and entered a lane bordered by shops. He walked along the lane until he came to a store with Abbey’s written on the front door and walked in.

          “Hey, Blake,” the old lady at the front counter said as he walked in. She lifted a large paper bag filled with items on to the counter. “Here’s your groceries. We ran out of cheese, though,”

          “Thanks, Abbey,” he said as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “How are you doing?”

          “Oh, fine, as always,” she turned to reach for a fly swatter on the desk behind her. “Those knees of mine are giving me a hard time, as usual,”

          “Well, you shouldn’t be working too hard,” he said as he paid the bill. She rang it up in the cash register. 

          “Oh well, the bills need to be paid anyway. And don’t you go on giving me the Social Security speech. I won’t take it,” she said as she swatted a fly on the counter. After flicking it away with the end of the swatter, she turned and looked closely at him. “You, young man, on the other hand, should take better care of yourself. I hate to nag at you, but all that cigarettes?” she motioned to the paper bag. “You won’t go past fifty at this rate,”

          “Abbey,” he looked back at her. “Thanks for reminding me. You’re so like my mother,”

          “And you’re so like my son,” she looked at him seriously. “And that’s why I keep reminding you. Because I care,”

          “Well, I care about you too,” he said. “That’s why I keep telling you to just take the money and rest,”

          At that she threw up her hands and put them at her hips. They looked at each other and smiled, and there was an understanding between them. “Well, so long Abbey,” he said as he turned and walked out. She was looking for something beneath the counter, but she raised her hand in a wave without looking.

          He walked out into the street, and saw the stars overhead over the glare of the street lights. As he walked home, thoughts ran over his mind, random thoughts of everything and anything at all. He barely saw the people that passed him. His feet knew the way well, and without even thinking about it, he found himself standing in front of his apartment building. 

          He entered his empty apartment and turned on the lights. It was a large space, bought with the money from his first job. However, it always bothered him about how empty it was. Oh, it was well-furnished, with the best furniture money can buy, and since money was never a problem, there’s always something new every week.

          But however much he tried to crowd the space with furniture and gadgets, it still seemed empty to him, and he don’t know why. He placed the binder on the coffee table, and the groceries on the kitchen table, and walked into his bedroom. 

          “I need a shower,” he said to himself out loud. His voice echoed back at him. He shrugged and undressed and walked into the large bathroom. He stared at himself in the large mirror set on the wall. Now here’s a familiar face. “You need a shave,” he said with a smile, and his reflection mimicked him. He sighed and took his shower.

          After a long, warm shower, he went out in his towel and sat on the couch in front of the TV and switched it on. After flipping through a few channels, he settled on an infomercial. The product is yet another useless kitchen appliance, a sort of vegetable blender. He turned the volume up and laid back, feet on the table.

          That’s when he saw the binder. After a bit of reflection, he reached for it and flipped it open and read leisurely. It described a cemetery on the west side of this town. On the next page is attached an envelope with pictures in it. It was pictures of the graveyard. It’s not a particularly scary-looking graveyard, but almost serene-looking.

          One picture caught his attention. It was of a stone angel, standing tall over a grave. The writings on the base are faded, and the stone itself is green with mold. The rest of the pages are just accounts of strange occurrences that happened recently. Overturned earth, broken headstones, and stray bones. Maybe it’s a grave robber.

          He closed the binder and put it on the table. Then he stood up, went to the kitchen and put away his groceries. When he came to the cigarettes, he bit his lip. Maybe Abbey’s right after all. Oh well. He shrugged and lit one, and took a deep draw. He blew out a cloud, and put his hands together. 

          The smoke condensed into a statue of a little girl in full size. She had long hair, reaching to her elbows, and her eyes were empty, staring into space. He sighed and turned away and the statue turned back to smoke. He flipped on a switch, and an exhaust fan sucked up the smoke. He glanced over at a picture on the refrigerator door. It was a picture of him and the little girl, only he was a little thinner and less bulky. He finished the cigarette looking at the picture, and making stone rings from the smoke absentmindedly.

          “I’m going to bed now,” he said aloud. The infomercial answered him: “Thank you, and good night,”

          He turned off the TV, poured himself a glass of milk and went to bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time before finally falling asleep.