- Wait
Ten
At the crosswalk a computer generated voice joins with a pulsing sonar blip, “Snelling, walk sign is on to cross. Eleven, ten…” A small hand slips free from a young father’s hand and the boy runs out into street just as a car blows through the red light.
Nine: June 10th, Morning
Usually Nic walked to work, two blocks outside and the rest through the Skyway. He walked through the skyway because it was air-conditioned and it was incredibly muggy outside. Sometimes in the skyway there were homeless people milling around and on this morning several lying on the about on edges of the skyway. The further he went the more people he saw. One guy was wedged in between two vending machines, laying face down. Another was slumped over an ATM. There were ten of them. He approached one guy lying on the ground next to an exit door. A thirty-something man in a suit. Nic tapped at his shoulder and asked if he was alright. The unconscious man did not protest or wake up. He noticed he was not breathing, he was dead. Then it hit him, they were not homeless people, they were all dead.
A person walked past Nic as he stared at the body. He looked across the hallway and he saw white haired woman in a vest cut sweater trying to surry past him and not trip on the bodies. The way the old woman ran made him think about when he was five. That’s when his grandmother died. She was chasing him. She loved to chase him. She had a heart condition so she’d pop nitroglycerin pills like candy. Then she could run after him. But one time while she ran, she fell and thrashed around on the ground. She died of a massive stroke.
Nic tried to ask several passer-by’s what happened. If anyone knew how these people died, but mostly they ignored him. One woman said to Nic, “I’m Sorry. I don’t have any spare change.”
He got back to his feet and started to head towards his office. He asked a few people if they had any spare change but of course none of them had any.
There were stacks of bodies here and there. Mannequin-like. They were stripped naked and were piled up on the skyway level of IDS building near the Banana Republic and NY Jewelry store. A wrist was jutting out of the pile. The arm appeared plastic. It had an expensive Breguet watch on. He pulled it off and examined it. A sales woman yelled at him to give it back. He ran outside the Crystal Court, and the down Nicollet toward 5th Street. The light rail was there and just about to depart. Nic got on and waved at his pursuers. He rode it for a mile or two before getting off. He looked at his watch and thought about how late he was going to be for work.
Eight: June 10th Night
Nic sat on the cable suspension bridge over Hiawatha for hours trying to get his thoughts together. By the time he reached the southern end of the skyway it was getting dark. Just past the Ivy Hotel half a block from the convention center he heard some strange music, and muted chanting. A hand swept across his back. And he turned and saw a man in a black knit winter hat. It was pulled down partially to cover his face. His skin was like melted wax. No ears. No lips. He flashed his yellow teeth at Nic.
Nic turned to run away. The creature had stiletto claws for hands. He raised his right wing and slashed at him. Bleeding, Nic almost blacked out. The floor turned elastic and his legs began to fail him. The walls stretched out, narrowed and everything around went dark.
***
Don’t step on cracks. It’s bad luck. “Run faster Nic,” my grandmother would yell at me from the porch as I chased the birds in the yard with a salt shaker. Soon I’ll be fast enough I remember thinking. Fast enough to put salt on their tails. “A bird can’t fly with salt on their tail,” my grandmother would say.
I told her, “Monsters sometimes chased me.” My Grandmother would tell me to, “Find a river and cross it. ‘The devil can’t pass through a moving current.”
***
Nic started to regain his strength and sight as he rode the escalator down. He looked behind himself and saw the creature had broke pursuit. The escalator, its electric current saved him.
Seven: June 24th
It had been weeks of cat and mouse, of dodging the thing that attacked him. He was sure it was stalking him. He saw it once behind him in a mirrored wall near Lindskoog Florist. The same strange music played. Nic developed strategies to confuse the creature. It seemed to be working. He’d go to work extremely early or start very late. He would walk different routes. He altered his appearance growing his long hair long and letting it get wild. He changed his style of dress ripped up clothing and dark sunglasses. He looked like a homeless man.
One day on his way back to the shelter he ran into Jayne. It was while rounding the corner inside the Foshey Tower near Sew What! Tailoring. He collided into her. Her purse landed next to her tattoo covered foot. Her tattoo was a shattered treble clef spilling out its’ eight notes. He stood there for few seconds. But suddenly he could sense the creature was approaching. He heard its’ music and muffled words. He ran.
Six
The energy surged through his circuit like brain when they pressed his button. Nic was compelled to speak. A script. No deviations. Without emotion, “Walk sign is on to cross.” The last words he heard before he saw the car collide with his son.
Five: July 1st
Nic put on charcoal black suit and a skinny black check tie, black rimmed glasses. He left his clothing in changing room and proceeded from IDS to the Market Center building.
A few minutes later he was walking past the flower shop. He saw it circling around with a snake in its claws, a few stories up. It descended on him. The snake tried to inject him with venom. And he heard a pulsing noise… he repeatedly told them wait! He fell over and darkness started to circle in. He groped in his pockets, desperately searching for a weapon to fend them off but all he had were packets of salt. He ripped them open filled his hand and threw salt into their eyes. Temporary blinded he put the rest of the salt on the vulture’s tail and escaped. He pulled the still loaded syringe out of his arm and threw it in a trash bin.
Four: July 5th
The Jesus Lady -who always wears a blue silk shawl- was giving a speech. She made eye contact with Nic and said, “The Devil is gonna hunt you down.”
Hours later on his way home through the skyway, his heart nearly exploded when Nic I felt a tug on his shoulder.
“Hey!”
He did not recognize her at first, “Jayne… You startled me. I’m sorry I ran off… ”
She interrupted him. “I know, I know. Something was after you.”
It was a relief that she understood but she was also breaking the rules.
“We’re not supposed to talk about it,” Nic reminded her.
“Why can’t we talk about it?”
“We should keep moving it’s not safe here” He said.
“Follow me. I’ll give you a ride home.”
The two entered the Rand Tower and stopped in the elevator lobby.
It was a dead end. No escape route. Nic kept peeking around the corner looking for it, as the bell on the elevator singled an approaching car.
Jayne was on her phone, “Yes, we will be there. He’s okay… thinner.” When the elevator doors opened Nic rushed for the car and pushed Jayne in. The doors closed and he breathed a sigh of relief. There was a guy in the corner. His back was turned to them. He had on a trench coat made of long black feathers. He started to mumble a low indecipherable language.
“No,” Nic yelled and pushed buttons on the elevator console to try to get the doors to open.
He turned and spread his wings out and launched at Nic with his talons. Jayne was at his side and held Nic’s arms to his sides.
Three
Time is computer clock cycles, surges of energy, on and off. Everything measured in absolute values. I hear voices muffled by the sound of rushing traffic, a river of flowing metal that I want to cross.
Two
Trapped inside a box, He’s been exploring his memories hoping somehow he can figure a way out of his mess.
He can see Jayne approaching with the vulture man next to her. He picks at Nic’s brain trying to scavenge anything of sustenance, anything that might explain his catatonic state. Explain why he repeats the crosswalk monolog.
He tells them to wait. Just long enough so one else can hear. Long enough to let all the noise and traffic comes to a halt. He wants tell Jayne when it’s safe to cross. And when she’s finds him he would tell her he was sorry. Sorry for running away, for not taking his meds, for letting everything fall apart after their son died. If she could forgive him the sunlight would slicing through his cloud covered mind. His emotions would surge and wash over the medication-levy they’ve barricaded him in. And he could return to his old life, one that seems more like a story, something his grandmother read, and one that would end happily ever after.
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