Stormy Horizons
~Caphinka Fogelstrum
I can't remember if someone told me this or I read somewhere that one must be careful of what you watch before falling asleep, as it can influence your dreams and possibly your actions. The fact this has a chance to be accurate is an understatement. I was sitting in my living room depressed, thinking that popping in a Sci-Fi flick would take me far away from my painful anguish. The thought of watching a romantic comedy that usually isn't funny and is corny as hell is something I would never entertain, even if I felt on top of the world. I am not even close to feeling that wonderful euphoric pulse of life within me, after having been dumped by a seemingly perfect friend and lover.
The door of the disc player opened and inwent Terminator 2: Judgment Day without any hesitation. While the previews were playing, I waltzed into the kitchen and quickly fetched a bottle of red and one of my fancy-pants wine glasses and head back to my Freudian couch, so I would be comfortable and in place when the movie began. I paused while adjusting the blankets and pillows thinking, I am not that bad of a person, am I? This is one of countless negative thoughts that continuously goes round and round in my head, like a 45 on a 1960's boxed-style record player.
Finally, the movie started. Naturally, Arnold and his firm, gigantic physique dominate the screen. The insanely driven motorcycle scenes, weaponry, transition sequences and action kept me riveted. Pretty soon, the popcorn bowl was emptying, as was the wine bottle. My eyes started to get heavy so I got under the covers and pulled the table closer to the couch so my vices will be within reach. A bit under the influence and emotionally exhausted, I fell asleep, even though there was non-stop action going on across the room from me on the large flat screen.
The sound of people talking is the next thing I heard, as I opened my eyes. The disc player had automatically shut off and the local television station had resumed. I sprang to a sitting position, as I heard a news reporter interviewing a witness claiming to have seen suspicious people parachuting from an unknown craft into downtown Los Angeles. When asked how many were seen, the witness hesitated and then said, "Several. It is hard to know how many," he went on, with an acute puzzled expression. "I went to the kitchen for some water in the middle of the night and saw many parachutes descending with people on them." There was then a deep pause. The look on the man's face said it all. It was evident that he couldn't form a clear description to tell the press who or what he actually saw. This is when extreme video editing tends to make people describing an event look like total jackasses, because they are only given a few seconds of on-air time to tell all and there is little time for mistakes. A police officer then appeared on screen, as the witness was led away. He explained that a press conference would take place after any and all witnesses were interviewed, at a time to be determined. Typical broadcast news bullshit. Why even bother to say anything, until further details are confirmed? Irritated that I had awakened to news instead of music, I grabbed my blanket and retreated to the bedroom hoping to catch an hour or more of well deserved sleep. As I yawned, I fell back onto the bed and was out almost immediately.
At about noon, I was stirring and half-dreaming about my first cup of joe, when the phone rang in a call from California. As soon as I touched the receiver button, I could hear the excited tone of my friend, Alex. I had no idea how intense the conversation was going to become.
"Have you heard the news? Alex asked, in a higher octave than I was prepared to deal with.
"Slow down and breathe," I said, a little too casually.
"Los Angeles is under attack. LA is a drop zone. I guess some dudes decided to parachute in before the sun came up. They disappeared into the city and can't be found. Their chutes and other artifacts have been found in many locations. This is serious."
"It's probably some weird military operation or something," I offered, trying to brush off dangerous implications.
"I am so going to stay in my apartment with the drapes closed," cried Alex.
"That might not be a bad idea, until the police find out what is going on. In the meantime, try to stay calm and stay in touch, okay? I pleaded.
After a 20 minute conversion and closing words, I hung up my phone. Christ, I was in Maine completely across the country. There was nothing I could do, whether this ended up being a terrorist activity or just a bunch of idiots trying to scare people. Time would tell and more people were bound to come forward with details. Not much happens that goes undetected by cameras or cell phones. The story was going to go viral at any moment, I was sure. This happens all the time.
My dwelling is a two-story cape with what I think is a terrific view. I realize that living on the 23rd floor of a city apartment in Los Angeles must have some pretty astonishing perspectives. I have trees, gardens and woods and Alex has stone, asphalt, heat and an overdose of humanity. She could have easily seen what the man on TV saw. I wonder what developments are happening at this moment or if, as usual, national panic will set in and I will have to endure a long drawn out process of massacred video news clips and "late breaking news" headlines that could conceivably last for months and, gulp, possibly years. I decided to "beam up" my PC to see if I could uncover anything. This was a long shot to be sure, but worth the effort. If all I did was sit like a snail on a log and not tune in, what would I be worth? Besides, my natural curiosity and playful cop antics could be a way to detect between-the-line signs and nuances the typical person would never notice. With an inward Cheshire cat smile, I turned to my assignment, fingers flying, angles considered. There were no updates, just the original story. Unfortunately, a few days at the very least would have to elapse, before anything, if anything, would surface. Could America's safety be at stake, once again? I felt a sudden chill that told me this could, indeed, be true.
I went about my day with a half-heart, after having had a talk with one of my best friends. Alex was not a drama queen and had a good head on her shoulders. I was certain that what she conveyed in our conversation was genuine. Putting myself in her situation and location helped me see a clearer picture that others might ignore. When something happens to someone else, it is a natural instinct to think it will never happen to you. This may be a way to deflect fear and reason with the inevitable. Either way, it is troublesome. I have to do something, I said loudly in my head, but what? For me, I felt my best defense was to not let anyone in on my research and keep my thoughts to myself. The last thing I needed was for someone to call attention to my activities.
Later, as the sun was setting, I stood on my balcony looking at the birds and other creatures settling down for the night. It would be dark in about three hours from now on the west coast. I remembered when I lived in California with Alex. As it was Friday, I recounted the many times we drove to our favorite pizza joint and then got beer, after a long work week. We would put on an absolutely lousy flick and critique it, while we stuffed ourselves. Those were the days. Now I was on the opposite coast because of the moron I hooked up with. I compromised what I had, which was a good existence, for an idiot that thought looking like a plastic doll meant the world to him. What a fucking joke. His new squeeze is going to look putrid in a few years, if they even last that long.
After consuming crab and mushrooms in a creamy sauce over rice, I hurdled the couch to see what was on the tube. As I scrolled, I had a comment for every no-good-for-nothing pile of steaming dung that was available for viewing. It is amazing how many people think they are fabulous and interesting to watch. Plueeezze! Even nature shows are compromised by programming that isn't directly related to what the channel was originally based was still about a glass or two left in the wine bottle. I eyed it on the counter in the kitchen and decided it was about time I got it over to where I was relaxing and finish it off. I didn't bother with a glass. My mind was turning and it kept navigating to Los Angeles. My eyes were not even on the show about penguins. I was far away from that region of the earth. Something has to break soon, I thought, wondering if any more reports had surfaced concerning the first eyewitness account of activities of the previous morning. I considered the recent military drills in the city but thought it odd they would not come forward with announcements. Even in the light of tragedy, there is always a special news bulletin made public to avoid millions of people becoming panicked. There was something truly odd about the whole situation that I couldn't put my finger on at that moment. Thanks, wine. I turned my cell phone and PC off. I needed some moments when only visuals sufficed. Clicking the volume button to mute, I saw penguins go about their adventures, while the music of my thoughts continued for hours into the night. The weekend was spent pretty much on my couch researching and digging up whatever I could about suspicious reports in Los Angeles and around the country. So far it was pretty quiet.
By Monday morning, I felt completely rested and ready to face anyone with any situation. I had over an hour before I had to go to work, which was only a few blocks away, at Asian Imports, International. I love my job. I am not only a saleswoman, I have the opportunity to buy, sell, trade and speak with representatives from Asian companies and those from around the world. I get shipments weekly to verify authenticity of artifacts and trade or sell for appropriate antique value. It is exciting and is like taking a history course simultaneously. Do I make a fortune? That would be no. Do I find this rewarding? Absolutely,yes. A few people and I have established relationships outside of work via text, video chat and email. It turns out we are all artists and Sci-Fi fans and appreciate obscure weird and creepy flicks, much involving fantasy and unusual plot twists, even horror. Those are the movies where often amazing artifacts are seen in the periphery of the film in the backgrounds. In books, detailed descriptions make them even more intriguing, because one's imagination is forced to work overtime to envision them with no influence other than words.
After answering messages and performing other routine morning tasks, a courier entered with a box from Saipan. It is a good thing that the other offices are located some distance away in the building, because I often find myself taking a long time turning boxes over the over looking at the packaging, stamps and foreign lettering. I like receiving parcels. It is like getting presents, as I never know what the exact contents will be, until after they are opened. I get to see what articles will be cleaned, studied, photographed and cataloged first before anyone else. I take part in that long process but I like the sneak peek anyway. I am often asked why I would ever want to work in the front office. We all like privacy but I don't see what difference it makes where your desk is located. There have been colorful characters in the past that have been busted for selling company artifacts on their private accounts, namely individuals working in the back. I ignore these questions and look like a complete antique geek, as I go about my work diligently. I am hoping some day I may be able to travel to some of the countries I contact to do business with them, and get a first hand look at the people and cultures I study.
"Asian Imports International. This is Stefania, how may I help you," I spoke into the phone. I connected the client directly to my boss's voice mail and hung up. Opening the box, I saw some coins, two brass steins and an upper arm bracelet with intricate stamped patterns on it. I decided to get out the polishing cloth to gently clean the first layer of grime off, so I could observe it closer. It was a keeper to be sure. As I held it up to the light and magnifying glass, I imagined how it would look on the severely sculpted arm of Sarah Connor. The individual muscle shapes and the sleek design of the bracelet would be a beautiful combination. I will have the chance to do research on this, I reasoned, as it appears to be little distressed for how old it must be. Thoroughly cleaning it will be simple. Then, I can send it along to the next person to process. I like when this happens. So often, I only get the chance to initially spend little time with the antiques that come into the company, and it takes a while to see them later in their final refined and prepared state. That is when the photographing and indexing begins. I never thought taking pictures of antiques could be so fun but I also think an artistic eye for presentation is necessary to capture its beauty. That's where I come in. I intend on keeping you near for the time being, I told the bracelet and myself with a smile.
Setting the bracelet down inside the velvet-lined box, I gazed at it one more time, before closing the cover and set it aside. This would be one project only I would be working on for the time being. I had the luxury to do this, as I was first in line to collect things that were either mailed or brought in by donators. I took a special interest in the things I studied at work. Most of my coworkers didn't seem to hold the same fascination as me. There were times that I had trouble knowing what the motivation was for them working there in the first place but I never asked questions. Rather, I let them come to me when they had something to say. I felt not being invasive was a good stance to maintain.