“Shannon, glad you could make
it.” His voice was cool and so devoid of
any hint of malice that I literally laughed out loud from nervousness.
He
smiled. “I bet you have a lot of
questions.” He motioned to a little
bench a few yards from us and we both sat down.
I made sure to keep a good couple of feet away from him on the bench
despite his easy going disposition.
His
smile faded slightly but it remained present on his face and I couldn’t manage
to speak. Here it was, the moment I’d
been waiting for and I couldn’t say anything.
He waited patiently and then I exploded.
“What
makes you different? Why does everyone
there hate me? What’s the deal with the
note, the camera, the mic, the secrecy, the game that you all play? What’s the point?” My voice was a little higher and less
controlled than I would have liked it to be and when I finished his smiled had
gone.
“Yes,”
he said. “That is a lot.”
I
stared at him. His smart grey suit and
slick dark hair helped paint the picture that he had information and his kind
face made me feel that whatever he said would be the truth. I waited for the answers he had
promised.
He
sighed and stared hard at me, then leaned back on the bench. This sudden change in behavior caused what
little sense of calm I had to dart off like a runaway cat.
“What’s
wrong?” I asked sharply.
He
turned in his seat and almost seemed to deflate.
His
next words might have been, “The world is ending and our building is a rocket
ship heading to Mars to save the human race,” for all sense it made to me.
Instead
he uttered plainly, “Listen, I like you, but you’re probably not going to like
what I’m about to tell you.”
I
was floored and he still hadn’t even told me anything-yet.
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