Godlessmonkey will be away from the computer for a month on a much needed holiday. While I’m gone I’m rerunning some of my multi-part stories for the benefit of those who might not have read them the first time around or would like to read them again. I’ll be back with new stories from October 16th. Thank you all for your support.
There he was. Elliot looked dishevelled and there were cuts on his face. Ivan watched in horror as he fumbled for his key and let himself in to the apartment, then he closed the door and backed away in disbelief, stumbling over a chair before he could sit down and collect himself. He got up and went to his desk and picked up his writing pad. There it was, exactly as he had witnessed it. I made this happen, he thought to himself. My god, what is going on here?
He poured himself a glass of wine and sat down in his recliner to gather his thoughts. Coincidence. It had to be. It simply wasn’t possible. His mind was racing. He thought about going next door, but how could he explain his interest? No, he needed to think this through. He didn’t know for sure that Elliot had been abducted. Yes, he looked like he’d been through hell, but he didn’t really know anything about him, did he? Maybe he went out drinking and got in a fight.
He finished his glass and poured another one. Half way through the second glass he was mellowing out. It was all rather silly, really. To think he could actually direct people’s lives just by writing something down on a piece of paper. What foolishness. If it hadn’t been for that fortune teller at the fair, and his son insisting on engaging with her nonsense…still, it was very odd that Elliot had come home looking just as he had written it, and just minutes after he had done so.
He finished his wine and knew what he had to do. There was one sure way to test this matter. He got up and went to his desk, trying not to think about what he was about to do. Best to just let it come to him in the moment. He sat down and began to write again. An hour later he put his pen down. His eyes would barely stay open. He got ready for bed, and he was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
He awoke late the next morning to the sound of activity coming from the apartment next door. He lay there for a moment trying to make sense of what he was hearing, then sat bolt upright in bed when he remembered the night before. He heard the sound of a truck backing and felt a tingle run down his spine. Willing himself out bed he showered and dressed and went out trying his best to look casual. He was just going for his morning paper then, wasn’t he? Nothing to it really. He got outside and stood there staring. It was a moving van. Somebody was moving out today. He grabbed his paper and was headed back to his apartment when he ran smack into Elliot, still looking the worse for wear.
“Oh. Hello.” He was at a loss. They had spoken little, the occasional hello as they passed in the hall.
“Hello. I’m moving out, I hope the activity didn’t wake you this morning.” Elliot wouldn’t meet his eyes, not that Ivan wanted him to.
“No, I…you’re moving out?” Ivan’s mind was reeling. “Well…do you mind if I ask…”
“Just some unexpected events happening. I feel it’s best to leave. I have to be going, please excuse me.” Elliot went back to his apartment.
Ivan stood there a moment longer, dumbfounded. At last he shuffled back to his apartment and sat down heavily at his desk. He picked up his writing pad and stared at it. Putting it down, he went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee, willing himself to just be for the moment. He made some toast and sat down at the kitchen table, staring out the window as the moving van was loaded with all of Elliot’s belongings. He had made this happen. There was no longer any way around it. He had written it, he had willed it, and now it was happening. The implications were staggering.
Almost as if in a dream he got up and went to his desk. He sat down and stared at the writing pad for several minutes, then picked up the pen and began writing.