Deadly Obsession

by Jack Parker

  Of course, I was over-thinking this whole thing like usual. The answer was much simpler than that. She was probably just having fun. If I had been playing this game with her, I would be thinking of the most efficient way to get to the end of the dialogue without messing up. It would never enter my mind to prolong the conversation for the sake of my own entertainment. But with Kari it made perfect sense because of her knack for thinking on her feet and the fact that she enjoyed being social far more than I did. However if she didn't watch out, she was opening herself up for me to throw her a curveball.

  "Let's see… we have something called the 'Chuychanga'. It's a Chimichanga but we have our own special recipe." he explained, but then his face changed as he remembered one of her earlier responses. "Although if you don't like spicy foods, that probably wouldn't be good."

  "Do you have anything on special that isn't spicy?" she wondered. Out of context a question like that would've seemed rude, but she managed to pull off asking it in such a way that it almost seemed flirty.

  "Well, nothing on special. Most of our specials involve taking ordinary Tex-Mex and kicking it up a notch. But, there's nothing wrong with just ordering the classics. You could get fajitas like your friend did, or like an enchilada or quesadillas. We make those pretty much the same way as any of the other restaurants do."

  Ending his last sentence with 'do' gave Kari an 'O' to work with. But the waiter said something that gave me a perfect opportunity to mess Kari up. If she was going to mess around, she would have to step her game up.

  "You know…" I began, drawing the attention of both of them, "She wouldn't know how the classics are made because she's never had Tex-Mex."

  "You've never had Tex-Mex?" he asked incredulously.

  I smiled at seeing my plan work. I basically just threw out the phrase 'Tex-Mex', hoping that he would use it at the end of his sentence, giving her an 'X' to start her next sentence. We locked eyes for a moment and the look on her face as she realized her predicament was priceless. But to her credit she didn't break character and she didn't immediately give up on the game. Within a few moments she turned as if she were going to respond to him. I waited with curiosity, wondering what she would do to get herself out of this. But before she got a word out her hand knocked my tea glass over and cold liquid poured onto the table. Some of it ended up on my clothes, but my reaction time was pretty fast and I got out of the way before a lot of damage could be done.

  "Ah… you got tea all over the table. Don't worry, I can clean that up real fast with these napkins. If you think of what you want to order by the time, I can take your order. Otherwise I can come back in a moment." said the waiter.

  "That won't be necessary. I think I'll have some enchiladas." she suddenly said.

  "Ok, let me jot that down here…." he quickly wrote down what her order was. "Done. And I'll be back shortly with another drink for you, sir."

  He had gotten most of the spilled drink, cleaned up. We assured him that that we could get the rest of it, even at his insistence that he should take the time to help clean it up because he was the waiter and that was his job. It seemed like he actually believed this was all just an accident. And why shouldn't he? The alternative was the Kari spilt the tea on purpose so that he would say something else that she could respond to.

  "That was a clever way to keep yourself from messing up." I said, referring to the tea incident. "But you couldn't have knocked my drink in another direction?"

  "What are you talking about?" she tried to look innocent.

  "You knocked my glass over on purpose."

  "I don't know what you are talking about." she said. But instead of having a confused look on her face that normally goes with a statement like that, she had this huge grin like she got away with something.

  "Oh, really?" I said with a laugh. I was amused by her denial of what happened. "So you didn't spill tea on me so that you wouldn't have to start your next sentence with 'X' to keep the game going?"

  "No… I was about ready to give him my answer, and my hand accidently slipped-" she tried to explain.

  "So, wait a second. You were going to give him an answer when he asked 'You've never had Tex Mex'? What were you going to tell him?" I wondered.

  "Well I forgot exactly what it was." she was obviously stalling to try and think of something that started with an 'X'. "It was something along the lines of… 'X-rays… would… suggest that to be true'."

  I couldn't contain my laughter as she stumbled through her line. I shook my head to stress even more that I wasn't buying her story. She just kind of smiled and tried to keep a straight face to make her completely insane explanation more believable. If I hadn't been laughing so hard I might've been more amazed at what I had just witnessed. It wasn't just the ability to think on her feet, but also the amount of confidence that radiated from her as she went on and on with the waiter. And you couldn't embarrass Kari. She never felt awkward. She was never uncomfortable. I sometimes catch people off guard with the way I can put facts together to come to a logical conclusion faster than others. I'm sure they wonder how I do it sometimes. They probably look at me with the same amazement that I was looking at Kari right now.

  "I'd like to think it was Karma." she said.

  "What do you mean?" I wondered.

  "Well, because you tried to interject with your 'Tex-Mex' comment to try to mess me up. It's only fair that you got your drink spilt on you in the end." she said whimsically.

  "By you. And I only 'interjected'…" I said, putting 'interjected' in air quotes, repeating the word she used. "…because you were going out of your way to show off your skill at this game. By the way, since when did we start using big words at the kid's table?"

  "Are you suggesting I'm being childish?"

  "I don't know what you are talking about." I grinned, repeating her line from earlier. I think she appreciated the effort I put into lightening the mood. Usually it was only her that like to joke around.

  "Besides… I'm a reporter. It's my job to use big words occasionally."

  It wasn't long before our food arrived. I hadn't eaten a good meal in a long while. I had been in a coma for several days, and since 'waking up' from that early this morning the only other thing I had eaten was something from the vending machines at the station for lunch. I don't imagine the two week break had anything to do with the food tasting better. I've certainly gone more than two weeks without going to a fancy restaurant. It probably had more to do with the fact that I had been feeling a little worse than normal just coming out of the hospital. So by comparison going out for dinner was more fulfilling than it usually was.

  "You still haven't explained why you decided to dress up nice for dinner." I said once I had finished eating. I knew there would be a period of time after we ate but before we had to pay for the meal that would probably be when she would explain herself, but I just wanted to get the ball rolling.

  "Oh yeah." she responded. Suddenly out of nowhere her face suddenly grew really serious. "Well, everything that's happened in the past couple of days has had me thinking about what I want to do for the rest of my life."

  "It has been a weird month." I said while not really understanding where she was going with this.

  "Totally. I mean, first you got put in the hospital for what seemed like forever…" she began to say. I could see her start to get sad as she remembered what had happened. She reached out and grabbed my hands, enclosing them in hers.

  Suddenly my anxiety kicked in. Gone was the lighthearted and mischievous aura that she wore for most of the meal, and what replaced it was this intense and purposeful gaze. Her body language suggested this was going to be something big… something important. It wasn't unheard of to be this emotional sometimes, but this was different. What could this news possibly be? The way she was suddenly acting it was almost like… like…

  "…and then you just woke up." she paused to let her words sink in. "And it gets to the point where you just realize… I don't want to just stand
around and watch life pass me by, you know? If I see an opportunity, I just have to grab onto it and never let go. And all of this was going through my mind right after I left you at the station, when we were basically told we had been fired."

  I didn't say anything. It seemed like she was about to get around to what her point was, and I still didn't know where she was going with all of this. I obsessed over the fact that I might react the wrong way to what she said. This was one of the many reasons why I didn't like surprises. If I had known in advance what she was going to say, I would be able to digest the information and then use the rest of the time to think of what I might say. But now? I don't have a clue what's going to happen and I don't know what to say when it does happen.

  "My next stop was to tell my boss he would have to put me on another beat or let me go, because I lost my source. He told me that he doesn't really have anywhere to move me… but then out of nowhere he says that he has this colleague that works for an online national news website that has been looking for people to write columns for them. Next thing I know, I'm being set up for an interview with this guy and…" she paused as if she wanted me to guess what she was about to say next.

  "And what?" I wondered.

  "And… I got the job! The guy hired me on the spot. He had already read some of my work and after talking with me he was finally convinced. I guess I was that impressive."

  It took a moment for everything to click. Did she dress up for dinner because we were celebrating that she got a new job? That didn't really make sense, but then I remembered: the interview. It must've been just before she met me here and she just didn't feel like changing. I was so confused. I assumed based on the way she had suddenly acted that it was something a lot more… sentimental. Not just that she had gotten a new job. But the even weirder thing? I thought that upon hearing that the news was something like her getting a new job that I would have been more relieved that it wasn't… something else. But I wasn't relieved at all.

  "This isn't really news though. I don't think there was any doubt that you were going to get a new job, Kari." I said.

  "This isn't just any job though." she said with a lot of excitement in her voice. "I mean, this could be something I do for the rest of my life. It's a national news website; one of the largest in the country. It's like a dream come true! I get to travel the world, seeing sights and covering major events going on. I mean, imagine traveling to Europe to cover the World Cup or the Olympics. I would dedicate my usual hours on my column, but the rest of the time I get to take in the sights and experience new things! I can't even believe they are going to pay me for this, and the pay is like twice what I was getting at the Chronicle."

  "Travel?" I asked. I didn't immediately catch it, but once I did the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. "That means you are going to be leaving Houston."

  "Yeah." she confirmed, suddenly the excitement from earlier had disappeared and was replaced with a somber look in her eyes. This was why she didn't want to have the conversation in the parking lot earlier. "You are upset that I have to go, aren't you?"

  "Of course I'm upset." I tried to say with as little emotion as I could. There was no point in lying to her. I didn't have an obvious angry look, but Kari was gifted with the ability to read even the smallest facial features. And for the same reason it was really hard to successfully lie to her. "But, I just…"

  "But what?" she tried to get me to finish my last thought. It would be sad to see her go, and I definitely was a little angry that she was leaving. But what could I say? I wasn't going to try to convince her to call the guy up and say she changed her mind and would stay. Was she supposed to give up her dream because I wanted someone to hang out with? That would be selfish of me.

  "I think this is the right move. You should take the job." I said with a tinge of regret.

  "Mike…"

  "I mean you said it yourself… this sounds like your dream job. It's not that often that you know exactly what you want to be doing for the rest of your life… and it's even less often that you get presented with the opportunity to even do it." I kept rambling. "I still don't know what I'm going to do with the Taylor gone. I'm liable to go back to Chicago and work for the gaming company I used to work at. I'm pretty sure my old boss will give me my job back."

  "That's true." she said. "And in any case we'll still be able to talk online or over the phone to catch up every now and then."

  "I guess so. I'm g-" I started to say, but then I caught myself. Eventually I went with "I'm going to go to the bathroom real fast."

  At first I was going to say 'I'm going to miss you', but I stopped myself before I could get it out. It wasn't that it would be a lie, but the reason I couldn't finish that sentence was because I didn't want it to be true. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life reliving all of these memories and feeling sad because the person I shared them with was gone. There was nothing I could do to fix this, and it's far easier for me to just accept the reality of the situation and move on.

  I knew how Kari's mind worked. She probably had a few weeks to get her affairs in order before they sent her on her first assignment. She would try to get everything done as soon as possible so that she could spend the rest of the time making the most of the last days she would still be here. And I'm certain the day before she had to go there would be some kind of special event she would plan. That was how she dealt with a situation like this. But it wasn't the way I dealt with it. I knew all along that a day like this would eventually come. I had to get over this as fast as I could and that meant getting the goodbyes out of the way, even if she wouldn't physically be out of my life yet.

  Goodbye Kari.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Well, it's good to see you again." my dad greeted me as I sat down with my cherry slush on the other side of the table. Night had come and gone, and we were meeting at Tropiocas for lunch like we said we would the day before.

  "Yeah, it's been awhile." I said, probably sounding a little more gloomy than normal.

  Usually whenever my dad and I had a conversation I was a little more tense and on guard because he was kind of a perfectionist. For that reason, and due to the fact that me and him were complete opposites, our conversations tended to end up gravitating towards things he thought were wrong with me. We had somewhat come to an understanding some time ago. We agreed that I would try to put more effort into not brushing him off like I usually tended to do, and he promised not to be as critical of me. But even though we made our respective promises, we still clashed a lot. Today was probably no different, but after everything that happened yesterday I would almost welcome a critical lecture from my father.

  "Sounds like you had a bad night. Your dinner with Kari not go so well?" he asked. I couldn't believe he had nailed it on the first try.

  "Well… she's going to be leaving Houston in a few weeks so I guess I was bummed about that." I admitted. 'Bummed' was an extreme understatement, but I didn't want to elaborate on the subject any more.

  "That must suck. It sounded like you two were pretty close. Although not close enough for me to meet her in person." he said in what sounded like a half-joke, half-lecture. He always chided me about never letting him meet her even though we had known each other for about a year.

  "Yeah…" I said mindlessly.

  Bringing up the Kari thing made me think about what had happened yesterday even more. He was right, we were close. I think we were closer than normal friends were and we had only been friends for a relatively short period of time. But there was something different about our friendship that put us on a different path than most other people. The day we met at our high school reunion I basically saved her life. And there had always been this level of trust between the two of us. That was probably why I didn't feel that uncomfortable going with her to places I never would've gone to by myself. Of course, none of that mattered anymore.

  "Why is she leaving?" he wondered.

  "New job." I reluctantly answered. I took a sip of my
drink and tried to relax.

  "What was wrong with her old job?"

  "She lost her only source, so she couldn't write columns for the crime beat anymore. Her old boss was the one that hooked her up for this new job." I explained. I certainly didn't want to have to explain everything to him, but I was beyond caring about what his reaction would be.

  "Wait, I thought she worked with you. How did she lose her source?" he asked. I sighed. I had a feeling that he was going to try and get the whole story out of me. So I took a deep breath and just told him what happened.

  "The Chief of Police, Dan Taylor, was her source." I said. I was purposely being as vague as possible, hoping that he wouldn't press the issue anymore. But of course, my dad was a details guy just like me. So if something didn't make sense to him he pressed on until he found all of the answers.

  "Did something happen between the two of them then? You told me she lost her source. What does that mean?" he predictably asked.

  "Taylor resigned." I answered in the fewest number of words possible.

  "He resigned? That's big news!" he said, acting very surprised. "This must've just happened."

  "Yes, they found the note this morning."

  "He left a note?"

  "He left a note and signed resignation papers." I explained. Throughout this whole dialogue I didn't make eye contact with my father. Instead I was staring into the empty cherry slush cup in front of me, answering all of his questions with quick, simple statements as if I were being interrogated.

  "Did he say why he left?" my father wondered.

  "No. All the note said was 'I'm sorry'." I said, shaking my head slowly.

  "Did he do anything strange the couple of days before he resigned?" he asked. My mind immediately thought of the audio tape that Taylor brought in that was a match to the Vigilante Killer that he didn't tell anyone about. Of course, that wasn't what my father was talking about. He was asking if there was any sign in the few days before he left that he might resign.