Places I Never Meant To Go

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Places I Never Meant To Go Page 4

by Shay Lynam


  Tyler says: Anybody out there?(taps mic)... is this thing on?

  I waited for a good five minutes and still nothing happened. Maybe she was already in bed. That must have been it. I mean, why else would she be ignoring me?

  Tyler says: Okay well... I hope you can talk tomorrow. I just have a few things I'm trying to figure out and I could really use some input... Good night.

  With that I decided to go to bed. What else was there to do what with Paul in his room for the night and many of the bars reaching the point where everyone there was now too tired and too drunk to actually be entertaining. I kept my laptop open and my speaker volume turned all the way up just in case Emily decided to respond. Closing my eyes, all I could see was the picture she had sent me of her in that coffee shop. I'm sure she's just busy or asleep, I assured myself. She'll be on in the morning.

  I slept so terribly that night. My dreams were riddled with nightmarish images of me as a little boy in my mother's room with her as she got ready for work in front of her mirror. Every time I woke with a start and managed to fall back asleep, I was pulled back into the same nightmare. Each time it started, I was watching the back of my mother's head as she brushed her long, dark hair. She would start humming some generic lullaby then suddenly stop. When I would say her name and ask what was wrong, she would turn around and her face would be contorted into some horrendous glare or it wouldn't even be her face. The first time she turned, her eyes and mouth were sown shut but she still managed to say the same words as every other time, ripping her lips and bleeding as she said them.

  The second time all her features were shrunken to tiny openings while a million spider-looking eyes dotted her face and venomous fangs came down out of her mouth, dripping with black goo. And finally, her eyes had become huge, black, empty holes that took up most of her face while her mouth took up the rest with pointed teeth and a tongue that darted in and out like a snake's as she hissed, “I have everything under control, Tyler.”

  When morning finally came, I woke up covered in cold sweat. My skin felt clammy and too tight, like it had shrunk. Everything seemed too bright. My head was pounding, my eyelids burned and I felt like someone had shoved a hundred lit matches down my throat. I didn't even try to go downstairs for most of the day, let alone leave my bed. The only time I came out from under my covers was to throw up and grab water from the bathroom. Other than that, my room was my sanctuary and I had no intention of so much as putting a pair of pants on. This wasn't a day to look pretty. And I will tell you, I most surely did not.

  Around the afternoon I was finally able to fall asleep without the images of my demonic nightmare mother haunting the insides of my eyelids. Instead, I dreamt I was head of her company. I waltzed right through those double doors in my tailored, double breasted, pin-striped suit, my assistant right there to greet me with a coffee and a whole wheat bagel, lightly toasted, with a shmere, no more, no less or they would be fired on the spot, of non-fat cream cheese.

  “Whadya got for me today, Assistant?” I ask, not even caring to call the kid by his real name. Though I suppose I would if my dream brain knew his name. Well, maybe not even then.

  “Well, you have a meeting with a potential client at eleven thirty and then another at two-”

  “Boring,” I interrupt. “Any messages?”

  “Your mother's lawyer is on the phone,” he says and I stop my clickity walking to look at my assistant. “What?”

  “Tyler, your mother's lawyer is on the phone.”

  My eyes shot open to find Paul's face above mine.

  “What?” I finally croaked. “No, I don't want to talk to him.”

  “Come on, Tyler,” Paul said dropping the phone onto the mattress beside me.

  With a grumble, I picked up the phone and brought it to my ear. “Hello?” I rasped knowing I sounded pathetic.

  “Tyler, it's John Parsons. We really need to get together to talk about your mother's will.”

  “Do we now?” I asked.

  “Yes, Tyler. It's really important that we get this thing sorted out soon.”

  I laid my head back down on the pillow and closed my aching eyes. “Mmhmm. Listen John, I'm feeling pretty sick today and really don't have the strength to deal with this right now. Could you call back Tuesday? I'm sure I'll be feeling tip-top by then.”

  “Sure, Tyler. Just please can we get this thing figured out soon?

  “Sure, sure.”

  “Alright, take care, buddy,” he said as if I were still the boy he had met twenty years ago.

  “Uh huh, thanks, pal,” I muttered then pushed the end button and buried my face into my pillow. “Paul,” I called, “let's get this useless home phone disconnected tomorrow. We barely use it anyway.”

  “Sure,” he called back. “I'll get on that.”

  The rest of the day went by in a sleepy, drug induced haze. I vaguely remember looking over at my laptop to find that Emily still hadn't replied to my message from the previous day. Facing away from the screen again, I fell back asleep grumbling about how she must have fallen off the face of the earth.

  This new dream had me walking into the coffee shop in Portland where she had taken that picture she'd sent me, though I'm sure the real place didn't have various animals' heads coming out from the walls and adorning the centers of every table. A blonde haired girl sat over by a big window all alone with her side to me and her hair covering her face. The window she sat in front of covered almost that entire side of the shop and showed trees for miles as if we were in a dense forest instead of in the middle of a city.

  “Emily?” I called walking over to her. She didn't turn to look at me even as I stood right next to the table. Her computer was on and her screen showed a bird's eye view of the whole coffee shop as if it were connected to a camera. “Emily?” I put a hand on her shoulder causing her to jump and snap her head in my direction. Andy's face smiled up at me.

  “Hey T-bag,” he laughed as I recoiled. “Is it brewsky time?” Then he brought a phone to his ear. “Are you happy with your cellular provider?”

  When I woke up this time, it occurred to me that I had slept through the night. The sun came through my window, shining in my eyes, though luckily my headache had vanished. Guess I was well enough to go to work, unfortunately.

  “Hello, madam, my name is Tyler and I was just wondering if you are happy with your cellular provider.”

  “You people are ridiculous! I told you to take my name off the list. I could sue you people for harassment! You call me day and night constantly and I am getting sick of hearing you badger me about my cellphone provider when I don't even have one! There is something seriously wrong with you and if you ever call again I will get the police involved and take you to court!” Click.

  I hung up my phone and rolled over to Andy's desk. “I do believe,” I picked up the marker, “I get a point.”

  “I don't think customers screaming at you for that long should technically count. There's no skill involved.”

  “Aha.” I pulled the cap off and made sure to push the tip of the pen really hard against the wall so it squeaked extra loud all the way down. “But nowhere in the rules does it say that I have to have any skills. If that were the case, I would be buying every week.”

  “You basically already do.”

  I looked Andy in the eye. “Ya know.” I put the pen down in front of him. “You would look good as a blonde.” Then I wheeled back over to my desk.

  Confused, he brought his hand up to his hair and patted his head as if trying to picture it. Bringing up my dream made my stomach feel queasy. Especially remembering that Emily was no longer responding to my messages. I still didn't have the slightest idea why she wouldn't be answering me. Our last conversation wasn't anything special. “Crap,” I whispered thinking, sure it was nothing special, other than the fact that I basically told her I had feelings for her, even though we had only been talking for six months and had never even met in real life. I probably sounded like some creep
er to her and she was ignoring me. No skin off her back, it's not like we were ever going to run into each other on the street or anything.

  After checking to make sure Jameson, not James or Jim's office door was closed, I opened up my email and started a message to Emily.

  Hey, so I don't want to sound like even more of a creeper but I noticed you haven't been responding to any of my messages for the past couple days. I just wanted to let you know that I didn't really mean anything when I asked what you thought about me seeing other girls. I was just kidding around, I guess. I just liked talking to you and I still want to be your friend and I just want to make sure that you don't think I am being weird. If you do, then, I'm sorry you think that. Anyway, I hope you write back soon. I miss having someone to talk to. :P

  -Tyler

  chapter four.

  “Dolphins?”

  “Yes, dolphins.”

  “Why are dolphins your favorite animal? And why did you want me to know your favorite animal?” I asked.

  The girl leaned in close to me. “Dolphins are a lot like us, ya know.” She smiled.

  I leaned in close too so our lips were almost touching. “Why is that?”

  “Because dolphins are the only other animal that fool around just for the fun of it.” The girl finished her drink.

  I could have mentioned that she was wrong and that monkeys also do that but then I would probably find myself alone that night or with one of the many horrendous looking people that littered Mike's. Mondays weren't usually very good pickings. “Well, that sure is fascinating.” I gulped down the rest of my drink. “What do you say we ditch this fishbowl?”

  Even though I didn't know this girl's name, I still knew more about her than any of the others. For instance, I knew her favorite animal was a dolphin, and that she was a very clumsy drunk. Paul was long gone, as was protocol whenever I went out, by the time we stumbled through the door.

  “Welcome home,” I said. “Explore. Knock yourself out. On second though, don't do that. It would kinda suck for me if you managed to beat yourself unconscious while looking around.”

  Dolphin girl let out a loud snort followed by a fit of giggling. “That's hilarious,” she laughed. “You're a clever one.”

  “I'm also a nimble one.” I smiled taking her hand and leading her up the stairs.

  When I woke up the next morning, I was surprised to find that the spot next to me was empty and a note was left on the pillow.

  Thanx 4 a gr8 first nite in NYC. Maybe I will c u again.

  I brought the note downstairs and put it down on the table in front of Paul so he could read it. He took his time staring at the paper and sipping his coffee. Finally he put down his cup. “Did she fail first grade spelling?” he asked.

  “Doesn't matter to me,” I shrugged. “I think I could make Monday nights at Mike's a routine thing.”

  “Pretty soon every night will be routine night at Mike's.”

  “I see no flaws in my logic.” I replied grabbing a cup and filling it with coffee. “Maybe I'll make it a game. Maybe I will start a collection of notes like this.” I held up dolphin girl's note.

  “I think I just died a little inside.”

  With a smile I tossed the note into a drawer and headed out the door. This morning was particularly cold and the wind immediately began biting at my face so by the time I got to work, I couldn't feel my nose and I wasn't really sure if my eyebrows were still there or if they had frozen off.

  As soon as I walked into the office though, my frostbitten face no longer mattered anymore. I walked over to my desk not really believing my eyes.

  “Andy,” I said. He turned around to look at me. “Do you know what sarcasm is?”

  He cocked his newly blonde head to the side. “Uh, duh. I speak it fluently.”

  I nodded and sat down at my desk. “Okay, just checking,” I said trying to hold in my laughter. He wheeled over and propped himself up on his elbow.

  “Hey, T-Bag,” he said. “You haven't said anything about the new do.”

  He was making this way too difficult. “Looks great. Totally... tubular, dude.”

  “Thanks,” he smiled running his hands through his destroyed hair and rolling back over to his desk.

  I shook my head and chuckled to myself before going into my inbox to check if Emily had emailed me back. Quickly scanning over the junk, I realized she still hadn't replied. Maybe I had genuinely blown it. Maybe the last conversation I had with her really was the last conversation I would ever have with her. This sucked.

  “Tyler!”

  I sat upright and swiveled around to find Jameson, not James or Jim, standing at the end of my row. He motioned for me to follow him with his finger then swiveled and stomped into his office. I got up and followed after him. I could feel all eyes on me as I walked down the aisle toward his open door.

  “Close the door,” he said once I had stepped inside.

  I did as he said then went and sat down in the chair in front of him. “So... what's up?” I asked.

  “You've been slacking off lately more than usual. Anything going on?”

  “I don't know what you're talking about.” I shrugged. “I've been slacking off just the right amount.”

  “You've only been completing half your list every day for the past week. Something on your mind?”

  “No, nothing is on my mind. I think the list is just getting longer every day,” I said.

  “Actually, I've been making them a bit shorter to relieve some of the stress on my employees,” Jameson, not James or Jim replied. “I was going to mention that in our staff meeting today.”

  I rested my head on my hand. “Really,” I muttered. “Well then, I guess I better get to work.”

  “I guess you probably should.”

  With that I stood up and left his office, heading back to my own desk. Andy turned around at his desk to face me. “What was that all about?”

  “Oh Jameson gave me a promotion,” I replied swiveling around in my own chair. “I'm your boss now and you get to do all my work.” Then I held out the folder with my client list for the day. “Here ya go.”

  Andy looked from the folder to my face and narrowed his eyes like he couldn't tell if I was being serious. Finally, a smile appeared on his face. “No.” I raised an eyebrow. “No?”

  I smiled at him. “Seriously,” I said turning back around. “Love the hair.”

  As soon as I walked in the door, Paul greeted me. “How was work?” he asked without looking away from his laptop.

  “Absolutely riveting. Want to hear all about it?” I asked sarcastically and hung my coat on the rack.

  Paul chuckled. “Not particularly.”

  After grabbing a beer, I joined him at the kitchen table. “Wedding planning?” I asked, pulling the computer toward me. “Trying to find the perfect summer colors to compliment your eyes and skin tone?” I froze, my eyes glued to the screen. “What is this?”

  “Just checking out local stories from back home. Seeing if anything exciting is going on with anyone I know. Do you know this girl?”

  The picture on the screen was of a girl, sitting in a coffee shop and smiling at the camera. Her blond hair cascaded down over her shoulders, lower on the right as her head was cocked to one side like she was trying to fit in the frame. Her mouth was set in a smile, teeth gleaming and dimples just barely indenting in her cheeks. A purple scarf was wound several times around her neck so her chin was barely covered and a floppy hat sat on top of her head, not really meant to do anything other than look cute.

  “Tyler?”

  Under the picture was a column with the headline “Authorities seek help locating missing Portland woman”

  Police are looking for an Emily Miller of Portland, Oregon who hasn't been seen since Saturday when she left Henry's Coffee Shop but failed to show up at school for a test retake.

  She is described as a white American, five foot 2 inches, one hundred and two pounds with blond hair and blue eyes and wearin
g jeans and black coat.

  She was last seen in a black sedan, headed north.

  “Tyler, say something already,” Paul nudged me hard in the shoulder.

  “I know her,” I whispered.

  The photo stared back at me, eyes boring into mine. I had just talked to her that day. The day she disappeared. “I have to get to class now,” she had told me. Had that black sedan been waiting outside? Who could have been in it and why would she have just gotten in?

  “I need to go,” I said, backing away and heading for the door.

  “Tyler!” Paul called after me.

  I didn't stop till I hit the sidewalk and jogged down the street toward the park. Rain was coming down hard and everyone else in their right mind either had umbrellas or hadn't come out to begin with. I was soaked to the core within seconds but I didn't care. All I could think about was if Emily was okay. She had been missing for three days and I had been oblivious. Who knew what kind of trouble she could be in. What if she was hurt? What if she was dead?

  I sat down on a lonely bench and rested my elbows on my knees. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes as I tried to think of what to do. I had to find her, simple as that. No wonder she hadn't been responding to my messages. All this time I had just assumed she was ignoring me when in reality she could be tied up being tortured in someone's basement or laying in the trunk of a car. She could be in a different country by now. Lost forever. There's no way I could sit here and do nothing. Not if there was a chance I could save her. But how exactly was I going to do that? I was almost broke, and there was no way I had the means to travel fifty miles out of New York, let alone all the way across the country to Oregon. How was I going to pay for gas? Food?

  I think that right then I realized what I had to do. I dug into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. John Parsons had called the land line plenty of times so I had memorized his number. He picked up on the second ring.

 

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