9.
As Jonathan stepped out of the backstage door onto the street, his usual hoards of fans cheered at him in appreciation of another fine performance. Another show that debated religion furiously argued and resulted without consensus.
The limo door opened, and he gave a final wave goodbye to his fans before climbing in. His status in the world had reached such magnitude it was no longer possible for him to drive his beloved sports car to work every day. Being chauffeured in a limo was also advantageous as he was constantly on the phone, tablet or his laptop.
‘Home?’ Mervin, Jonathan’s personal driver, asked as he pulled the long body of the car out into the open street.
‘Yes.’ Jonathan closed the window between the two of them as soon as he had replied.
It was one of those evenings when you’d catch every robot red and so the journey home was arduous and annoying. At almost every robot who ever pulled up next to the limo would hoot and wave hoping Jonathan wound his window down and greeted them. Mostly he didn’t, but they would yell and shout out to him and then have the pleasure of telling all their friends and family they parked next to his limo. A highly insignificant and pointless exercise on their part and yet they felt elated by it.
Jonathan had just put his phone down on the wide seat and reached to the bar cabinet when he felt a strange presence around him. He looked about and obviously not seeing anything or anyone shook his head and resumed his act of opening the cabinet door.
He leant back and shook off his suit jacket, folding it neatly and placing it tidily alongside the cell phone on the seat. Shifting in his seat slightly forward, he opened the whiskey decanter, savouring the aroma, and filled the glass three-quarters fill.
The same strange sensation whirred about him again, and while leaning back into the seat, he looked about him again ready to chastise himself once more.
Instead, he jumped into the corner of the seat when he noticed a man sitting next to him.
‘How? Where? How? Who are? How?’ Jonathan rambled; his hands shook with fear and fright spilling his ludicrously expensive whiskey all over his designer pants and the seat. He tried to take a sip to calm himself, but that only landed up being spluttered over his immaculate shirt and tie. He somehow managed to put the glass that contained a few drops left by now, onto the shelf the cabinet door provided.
In fear and panic, he pressed the intercom to Mervin. It was disconnected.
Jonathan stared at the dark shadow of a person sitting next to him, his suit jacket untouched. He opened his mouth, but no words came from his lips. He tried again. Silence! His voice was gone.
‘Jonathan, I am not going to hurt you.’ A deep baritone voice rumbled.
With eyes wild and largely rounded, Jonathan stared at the shadowy form. A sudden thought struck him, and he pounced onto the window separating him and Mervin.
Mervin never moved a muscle, concentrating on the road ahead without acknowledging Jonathan’s banging on the window immediately behind his head.
Jonathan flung himself back into the corner of the seat gripping the door with force, trying to open it.
‘Jonathan, be calm. I am not going to hurt you.’ The voice shuddered in his eardrums.
“How was it possible that this person got into the limo? How was it possible that Mervin had not heard or noticed anything amiss back here?” He scrambled his confused thoughts.
‘Do not concern yourself with all the irrelevant questions Jonathan. I am here in your wonderful posh car, and I have something to tell you.’
Jonathan’s throat was quivering as he tried to speak.
‘You cannot speak for now. It is better this way.’
Jonathan’s eyes wildly wide with anxiety; they began to tear rapidly. His chest started to heave as he battled to correct his breathing and to get air back into his lungs after shutting them down in fright. A cold sweat seeped out of the pores of his skin and inside he was whimpering like a dog begging for mercy.
‘I can see that whatever I tell you now will not sit with you. I will visit you another time. Just remember only you can see me and while I am in your midst the world around you will not notice anything different about you. In fact, they will not even be aware of the minutes that have elapsed. Let’s just say they will be in a limbo state.’
Jonathan did not nod, shake his head or acknowledge what the shadow had said – he only stared with crazy wild eyes.
‘Okay, Jonathan I will leave now. You won’t see me leave, and this will be like a nagging headache for you. You won’t remember it, but your subconscious will have an itchy feeling that something happened. Like when you know you have to do something, but you just can’t remember. ‘ The shadow laughed boisterously ‘It won’t help to tell or even try to discuss this with anyone as they will probably think you are mad or over stressed.’ He laughed again louder. Jonathan looked to Mervin hoping he had heard this overly loud horrendous laugh but nothing – he simply continued to drive home.
When Jonathan took his eyes off Mervin, there was a sound peace in the car. He looked at his suit jacket folded neatly untouched next to him. That is all that was there with him in the car. He coughed returning his voice. He was confused and did not know why. He wiped his brow with his silk handkerchief wondering why he felt so bewildered and so anxious, why he was sweating for no reason and for goodness sake why had he spilt his whiskey all over himself and the car. He poured another drink, swallowed it in one mouthful poured another and sat back chasing down his beating heart. He sipped slowly on whiskey pondering what it was he had to do that he was forgetting.
Mervin parked the limo in the private parking of the building and waited until Jonathan’s bodyguards were in position before opening the rear door.
‘Sorry sir, did I go over a bump to hard. You seemed to have spilled on your shirt. Next time sir bang on the window or yell at me over the intercom so I can be aware if your trip is unpleasant. Again I apologise sir.’
Jonathan grunted and walked toward the elevator. He had no rebuttal as he had no recollection of when it happened.
‘What happened to you?’ Cassia asked as he walked into the penthouse apartment.
‘Mervin went over a bump a little too hard.’ Jonathan shook his head. To Cassia, it was a head shake in disgust to Jonathan it meant confusion.
He took a long, long shower trying to wash away the nagging feeling in his brain and after eating a perfectly cooked meal and spending a few quality minutes with his children before they went to sleep; he sat in his favourite recliner watching the television news channels. Cassia brought him a glass of his favourite red wine and sat in the recliner next to his.
‘Is there something I have to do or go to?’
‘Pardon?’ Cassia replied slightly bemused.
‘I keep having this feeling that I’ve forgotten something important. It’s very annoying.’
‘Well, not that I know. You had better check with Gertrude. Send her a message now in case there is an important issue early tomorrow you have forgotten.’
Without replying Jonathan picked up his phone from the table next to him and sent Gertrude a message “Anything important on for tomorrow? Don’t want to have forgotten anything.’
He waited, sipped his wine in fast gulps while he did so and held the phone in his hand.
His phone blipped, and quickly he put his glass down to retrieve the message.
“Nothing that is not on your planner, on your phone or tablet.”
He immediately checked his planner. Everything on his planner for the next day was as he recalled. He gulped down the rest of the wine.
‘Find out what it is?’ Cassia enquired very curiously. She’d never seen him so concerned over forgetting something he wasn’t sure he’d even forgotten.
‘Nope, there isn’t anything.’
‘I think you just need a good night rest babe.’
‘Perhaps you’re right. I’ll take one of those pills your doctor gave me too.’ He got up from his recliner and walked into the kitchen rubbing his head wearily.
With the last sip of wine, he swallowed the little pill, trudged wearily to his bedroom to hopefully overcome his weird thoughts and sensations of the evening.
He slept like a log until almost three in the morning, an hour before his alarm was to go off. He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep, so he slopped his way to the kitchen for a cup of his favourite Colombian coffee and then to his study.
He sat at his desk reading the emails that had overflowed his inbox. He yawned and turned around in his swivel chair to face the window and the shadows over the city. For a few minutes, he gazed blankly out into nowhere then he rubbed his eyes and turned back around to face his desk and his laptop.
He bolted right out of the chair when he saw a shadow of a person standing in front of his desk.