A Meeting of Minds

         Charles Caleb Colton once said 'Mystery magnifies danger, as a fog the sun." and as I walked down the dark street amongst the orange glow of buzzing street lights I couldn't help but smirk realizing the truth behind it. There was something about mystery that made me feel alive inside, made me feel like I was living on the edge. I had always been one to indulge in life’s pleasures but had recently found they no longer gave me the thrill I longed for. Promiscuous sex had become boring and bland leaving me open to regret for the mistakes I had made in the past and leaving the bitter taste of loneliness fresh in my mouth. Alcohol and recreational drug use had become more of a habit than an indulgent way to enjoy myself, using it instead to numb the compunction in my life. The feeling off mystery however had added the sense of danger back into an existence that had begun to completely lose meaning. I pulled up the collar of my black mac while looking down at the pavement, trying to shield my face from possible onlookers while my shadow, like the baddy in an old movie, towered over me on the walls of the buildings lining the street.

         It would be an unlikely meeting of minds, one nobody would have expected including myself but one that must be hidden from the rest of the World, especially those involved in ‘the business’. What would they say if they knew? I laughed. Did I really care what people would think if they knew about my late night rendezvous? Probably not, my recent disdain towards people who used to inspire me had left me with the realization that sometimes the heart plays tricks on the mind but I was a woman who learned from her mistakes and after letting my emotions get the better of me I now had to prove that Jessica Smith was about herself and nobody else, at least nobody in ‘the business’, or so I tried to convince myself.

         The small wooden door down the back of the alleyway would have gone completely unnoticed if it weren’t for the glowing neon sign that flashed vulgarly, a couple of the letters flashing dully before turning off completely. The silence within the alleyway was enough to intimidate anybody but unlike most women I had spent my nights in such areas many a time and rather than turn on my heel and run in the opposite direction I opted to concentrate on the gentle humming of the neon sign as I made my way towards the door, the burly doorman standing to the right of the door giving me the once over with a smile as I glanced up from the collar of my coat, walking past him without a word, he knew who I was, he must have been told to expect me.

         Walking through the wooden doors I began to take a look around my final destination, taking in all that surrounded me and looking for the man I had come here to meet. It wasn’t somewhere I had expected him to associate himself with. I assumed he was more intrigued with the lavish things in life but much like myself what showed on the outside didn’t reflect what transpired on the inside. The small bar was dusty and depressing, middle aged men sitting around sparingly, enjoying the company of their hard alcohol while an older woman wearing too much lipstick and clothes that hadn’t been fashionable since well before the turn of the century, sang of love lost and heartache while standing on a small stage, her words falling on the deaf ears of the men who where busy wallowing in their own self pity.

         A second glance confirmed that I couldn’t see the man I had come here to speak to, rather than waste any more time looking around the room at balding men who obviously weren’t him, I made my way to the bar, the staff here where obviously expecting me, leading me to the conclusion that they must have known whereabouts he was. The man behind the bar had a moustache that rivaled Tom Selleck’s although without the handsome facial features, instead his skin hung loosely from his hollow cheeks and his black eyes reflected his contempt for me and everybody else in the room. He kept his dead eyes on me while I approached him, asking him where I could find the man I had come to meet. Continuing to dry pint glasses with a dirty washcloth he informed me that the man I was here to see was out back and had been waiting for me. I offered him thanks that fell on deaf ears before following his finger in the direction of the back room.

         I felt like I had stepped into the sixties when I saw the wooden beads hanging from the doorframe leading into the ‘back room’. Sniggering I pushed them to one side, ducking slightly and making my way into the room. He sat there with his back to me on his own watching an old black and white television and occasionally sipping on the drink that sat on the dirty table in front of him. Not knowing how to approach him I just stood, watching him, listening to him laugh as he watched reruns of ‘I Love Lucy’. He must have sensed my presence or perhaps saw my reflection on the screen of the small television as he turned around to greet me with a smile, encouraging me to take a seat beside him. I was wary at first, I had to be, after all this wasn’t just a random encounter, the encounter could shape the rest of my life, the choices I made tonight, the words I chose to speak, they could either be the start of something great or the end of something I had tried the preserve for so long. Taking a deep breath, but never letting him see my concern I moved forward towards him and the table.

         He began to laugh slightly explaining how he thought I looked like ‘a dame in a 1940’s gangster film’, long mac with the collar up to hide my face, bright red lipstick that was just about visible when the collar moved to the side, my long dark hair tucked into my coat and yet despite the cold weather I had opted to wear the classic red dress and high heels. It made me smile; it was all so very secretive that it had become somewhat humorous.

         He ordered me a drink as I took the free seat beside him, staring mindlessly at the television while waiting for him to come back from the bar. He came up behind me and placed the straight whiskey on the table in front of me. I was taken aback when I realized he had chosen my drink of choice correctly, telling him that it was a very good guess. He leaned forward, whispering in my ear, telling me that he had been watching me for a long time, before moving away and taking the seat beside me once again.

         “A bit ‘psycho killer’ do you not think?”

         I said it playfully as I brought the drink to my lips, turning my attention away from the television and focusing on him as he stared back at me with a smirk on his face and a fire of anticipation in his eyes. He explained how he had to watch me, how he had to make sure the time was right before he left me the message, he had to know we where on the same level before he risked coming to me, months of him waiting would be ruined if his timing had been wrong. It sounded over obsessive, like he really truly believed in the words he spoke and sitting listening to him, I understood.

         “There comes a time when things must change, when routine is no longer acceptable, a time where you must either chose to grow or accept the fact that mediocrity is your destiny. I look around and all I see is mediocrity being rewarded instead of punished while the greats continue to be smothered by the over rated and I think to myself when was it that these sheep decided to settle for second best? When was it that I became surrounded by inane idiots who make me feel like hanging myself from my weight machine? Things need to change, they need to implode and be rebuilt.”

         I listened attentively as he spoke, nodding in agreement and occasionally bringing the glass of whiskey to my lips but never breaking my eyes away from his. I’m a strong willed woman and I knew that was the reason he had come for me but looking away from him would be giving him a sense of control, something that was not going to happen despite how intimidating he was. He broke his stare and began to watch the television in silence again, laughing heartily every now and then and asking was I a fan of ‘I Love Lucy’, the conversation had quickly changed pace, leaving me suspicious and on alert. I could never be too cautious after all here I was a female, in the back room of an alleyway bar with a man with a hint of rage in his eyes.

         “Behind every revolution is a leader and an enforcer and being the accomplished and respected woman you are I thought the role of enforcer wouldn’t fit anybody else as perfectly as it does you. I have watched the resentment in your eyes towards other people, people who remind you they have taken a back seat, people who claim they have stepped into your shoes and people who have hurt you. The depth in those beautiful blues reflects an anger, an anger I want to coax above the surface, an anger I believe gives you a certain edge that nobody else here has and it’s the reason I want you on my side.”

         He had stopped laughing at this stage and instead reaching into the pocket of his expensive silk suit and taking out a small box of cigars. How very cliché of him, I thought as I watched him hold the expensive cigar between his teeth while lighting it with the small orange flame that danced from his tacky Las Vegas lighter. He spoke as if he knew me, which sent a shiver of uneasiness through me.

         “What’s in it for me?”

         He turned to face me and laughed, letting the cigar smoke gush from the side of his slightly parted lips, the unmistakable look of anticipation and amusement in his eyes. He had obviously anticipated the question, taking his time to answer it as he took the cigar from his mouth and tapped the ash on the already dirty floor despite the ash tray that sat just inches from his hand. I was never one to beat around the bush and if I was going to go along with his plan I needed to know I wasn’t just going to play lackey to someone with a superiority complex that didn’t know what he was doing. I had to be sure I got as much out of this as I needed.

         “I assume from your already large bank balance that we are not discussing a wage but a more fulfilling reward. I can assure you that this isn’t a badly thought out way to stroke my own ego it’s something I have considered for a long time and your return seemed to be the last piece of the puzzle. I can’t promise you anything but I can tell by your eyes that you already know what you can gain from this after all if you thought you had nothing to gain then you wouldn’t have agreed to meet me after I so eloquently left a message scrawled across your wall.”

         “You didn’t need to write along my wall, a simple phone call would have done the job.”

         “But where is the creativity behind that? I don’t do things by halves Ms. Smith I mean what fun is a phone call? Seeing your face when you walked into that hotel room and noticed the letters scrawled on your wall in red paint was priceless and then the games began, I knew you’d come looking for me and I’m glad I was right in assuming that you where in fact intelligent enough to realize it was me, it proved that you where the person I was looking for.”

         He said it playfully as if breaking into somebody’s hotel room and defacing the walls with large red letters in the middle of the night was the usual thing to do to get somebody’s attention, as if threatening somebody was the way to go about getting somebody to side with you and as much as I thought that sometimes he was borderline insane he had me pegged. It took big things to get my attention a simple phone call or note would be ignored where as mystery and secret messages where embraced. He didn’t live his life to societies standards and neither did I.

         I took the drink from the table once again, holding the glass tumbler between my fingers and watching the whiskey sway back and forth while contemplating my next move and putting together the pieces of the puzzle in my head. Was this really something I wanted to be involved in? I had spent the last year idly watching from the sidelines and it had suited me watching, analyzing and judging them all but as much as I had enjoyed watching them like rats in a cage the idea of being part of something bigger had a certain appeal that couldn’t be matched by my trademark apathy.

         The enforcer, it had a comic book hero ring to it, the ‘Vindicator’ of World of assassins. I finished off the end of my glass of whiskey in silence as he watched me curiously with the cigar in his mouth occasionally blowing the smoke into the air and resembling Hannibal from the A Team.

         “It should be known beforehand that I play by my own rules, if something doesn’t suit me and how I feel then I will not do it. I’m a lone wolf as you may have noticed since you’ve been watching me oh so carefully and I will never be converted to a lackey. If it’s a lackey you are looking for then you have come to the wrong place.”

         “On the contrary, you’re strong will, determination and dare I say it stubborn streak are the reasons I want you. I know that you work hard for the things you believe in and that failure is not an option, these are traits in myself I feel reflect in you. I’m not looking for another brain dead lackey I’m looking for somebody free willed who knows what they are doing. So do we have a deal?”

         Oh Jessica, the simple life just wasn’t for you.

         I watched as he extended his hand for me to shake but hesitated. I was never one to back out of something I agreed to so I had to be sure that this was something I would see through until the end, something I wasn’t going to lose interest in over the proceeding few days but with nothing to lose and everything to gain there was only one option as I took his hand and shook it, and just like that I had handed my soul to the devil.