Chapter 2: To A Perpetual Journey; Part 3
The high school students are from the private academy just three blocks away from this park. They tend to stay here and chat until the sun sets. Today, the same group I see every day are talking about a new pop music released this morning. The glasses boy takes out his phone and plays the new song.
It is about a girl who waits for her crush to make advances on her by giving him countless of hints: having her friends leave her alone with him after class, inviting him to eat school lunch together, help him answer some homework, walk home together, and even let him visit her room. As the girl sings about her frustrations, she ends the song with these lines: “Like a black hole, you’re a region of infinite density. But I guess, that’s what I like about you.”
What a hopeless couple, I thought. The students chortle, and then talk about another different topic. Something about Karaoke, I suppose.
“Mind if I sit here?” A voice asks.
“Not at all, it’s free,” I say.
The medium-built man, probably in his mid-thirties given his wrinkles, sits on the other side of the bench. He glances at each spot he could see, then our eyes meet. He has strange eyes, a rare condition called heterochromia: his left eye blue, whereas his right eye is...purple?
The man covers his right eye. “I’m wearing contacts right now. Ignore it.” He closes the distance between us until he is within my arms reach — not breaking eye contact. I retract my arms from resting on the backrest.
“Is there something you need from me?” I ask.
“You’re that person that watch high school girls walk home after school, right?”
“I stay here for fresh air, not watch. I don’t have hobbies, so this is what I do to pass the time,” I sniff the breeze that passes through us — the smell of nature. I truly like this bench in the park.
The man looks around. He follows this faint gust carrying leaves from an electric pole that runs through the street, through group of high school girls fiddling their phones, then to the entrance of the park until it reaches us. He nods as if he gained a new knowledge.
“Whatever you are thinking right now, erase that. That’s not what I meant by the fresh air.”
The man places his hand on my shoulder, “It’s alright, I understand. I don’t judge people.” He looks at me as if I’m a pitiful creature.
I push his hand away. “Then don’t look at me that! Just tell me what you need.”
“A fresh air obsession,” he mutters as he straightens his posture. “I’d like you to meet me tomorrow at Westrolls Restaurant at this same time.”
“Eh?”
“This is sudden, I know. But you must meet me tomorrow because I’m going to tell you something very important.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“I’m the guy that wears a brown cap, blue sports jacket that jogs through here. I noticed that you always visit here so I figured you’ll be the best for this one.”
“I see. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know you. Why do you—”
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“Just don’t ask today, I’ll explain the reason tomorrow. The restaurant is in downtown and there’s many people there. Don’t worry about any danger.”
“Don’t worry about any danger? Suspicious.” When people say don’t worry about danger, there’s going to be some danger involved, or at least that’s what my classmate tells me. I study his face. Other than his weird eyes and his misunderstanding about me, nothing else seems out of place. “Well since I have no class tomorrow, I suppose I’ll meet you there.”
“Great! Now I have to go. Let’s meet again.” He hands me a small card that has his phone number and leaves.
On a corner, a purple light shoots out of his right eye that soars up to the sky, leaving a transparent yet subtle trail behind. He ignores it and just continue on running. I, however, stares at it as it approaches the horizon (it moves quite fast). After it is absorbed by the horizon, its trail vanishes as if nothing has happened. Neither the students near the fountain nor the passers-by seem to notice the strange light that glaringly shot across.
As I wait for the sun to set after the strange meeting, ethereal threads begin to weave the park.
My vision darkens.
Karkus vision darkened. Once the weaving stopped, the hall returned.
A memory from the past, Karkus thought. Why would he reminisce that moment now? And with absolute clarity and precision as if he is the one doing the action. Strange. He looked down to observe his body. Most of the threads on him coalesced again, and there seem to be no trace of Trakun’s brutality. He had regained back his memories.
He shook his head and pinched his cheek. Nothing seemed wrong about his motor skills. Trakun and his kin, after all, dealt quite the damage to him. He guessed how long that might have taken. After confirming his health, he watched the film again.
The gymnasium from earlier was now full of bullet marks, the wall smeared with blood, and there was a hole in the wall which Karkus assumed made by the huge truck parked nearby. The bowl-boy became an attractive guy with neat yet bloodied uniform and with his messy hairstyle. The boy looked down on two bodies: a hacked, disfigured cop wearing a cape, and the other was the groaning petite girl.
What did just happen there? Karkus thought. It’s them...
“It’s too late for you now,” the boy harrumphed. “You’ve killed my friends, you must pay for your sins.
The petite girl, drenched in her own blood, moved her right arm to cover a bullet wound on her stomach. “If you have warned them, they would not be dead right now.... You lead them here yourself. I know that you have the information that I’m going to poison the school and kill that stalker. Yet, you let me. As if you were planning it from the start. The cop, too, wouldn’t have perished if you shot my vital spot.”
Chapter 2; Part 3 End.
