In the dream he found himself in an unknown place on a street both sinister and compelling. As he wandered along, not knowing who he was or where he was going he felt eyes on him from all sides, but each time he turned there was no one there. He began to hear a voice that seemed to come from nowhere calling his name in a mournful tone, beseeching him for something he couldn’t quite make out. He began to experience a burning need to find the source of the voice, but each door he opened, each alley he looked down there was nothing but decay and desolation and the voice became more urgent until he felt his mind would rip apart.
Evan woke up in a cold sweat, the sheets twisted around him. He lay there and wondered what could have caused him to have such a nightmare. It was a long while before he got back to sleep that night and the next day he felt flat and had trouble concentrating on his work. Alan passed by his cubical and noticed him deep in thought.
“Hey man, what’s up? You look like you’re lost in space. You daydreamin’ about women?”
Evan looked up and was at a loss.
“What? Um, I mean, no…I don’t know. I just had a bad dream last night and I can’t seem to shake it. Weird stuff, man.”
“Yeah? Like what?” Alan seemed genuinely interested.
“Oh, I don’t know. Some kind of anxiety thing. I feel like something big is going to happen, but I have no idea what it is, you know?”
Alan looked at him over the top of his coffee mug as he took a sip.
“Twilight Zone time, eh? Probably nothing, man. Anyway, gotta go.”
Evan decided Alan was probably right and put it all out of his mind the rest of the day. As he left work and headed for the bus stop he found himself looking for the homeless woman he had given money and food to the previous day. She wasn’t in the spot he had first seen her and he realized he felt something like disappointment. He wondered why, but he was still somewhat bothered by the dream he had had the previous night and dismissed what he was feeling as residual anxiety.
In the following days he continued to glance at the spot he had seen her as he went to and from work, but she wasn’t there. He had a strange feeling there was something not right about it, but couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. One day about two weeks after his encounter his life took a very interesting turn.
When he got home from work that day he collected his mail from the box and dropped it on the kitchen table and went to take a shower to try to perk himself up. When he came out he put on a bathrobe and was headed to the fridge for a beer when the return address on the letter on top the stack of mail caught the corner of his eye.
Frederick L. Matson, attorney at law. Now what would a lawyer be wanting with him, he wondered. He sipped his beer and opened the envelope and nearly dropped the bottle when he read the first paragraph of the neatly typed letter.
It read: Dear Mr. Jensen, I am writing to inform you that you have been named as the beneficiary in a last will and testament. Due to the circumstances I would prefer to speak to you on this matter in person. Please ring my office and make an appointment to see me as soon as possible…
Evan put the letter down and dropped into a chair and stared into space as he finished his beer. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.
Tomorrow, Part 3