II
That night the shadows in his apartment seemed to move closer. He welcomed the feeling. Jay had never counted himself among the heroes and the saints, nor for that matter with the villains and sinners, yet the experience of a few hours past, left him with an odd sensation of misplacement. Every officer he had talked with, even the sketch artist all praised his good deed. Yet all he could think about was the woman's pale cream skin in the moon light followed by the flash of her emerald eyes.
He walked the hall in the dark. Coming to his drawing table he switched on the smell desk lamp. It was well after midnight now- he should in bed so he could be coherent for work. Those green eyes though demanded his attention. Debating he pinched the bridge of his nose. Around him the shadows waited. He knew that in their infinite depths he could pull out a whole new world, a safe haven for the woman with the green eyes. He laid out a clean sheet of paper.
In the morning, having only slept for three hours at the most, he stumbled back into the small living room where he kept all of his art. On the work bench laid three separate sketches of the woman each with different emotions. The one thing they all had in common (which puzzled him to no end) was that a goblin accompanied her in one way or another. Not that he was opposed to goblins; he made the majority of his living from producing fantasy art, but they had been drawn with very little conscious effort. The goblins and she seemed to belong together.
Having downed an energy drink he rushed out the door to work. The frequent lapse in illustrative work was supplemented by his job at a local pub, or bar as the locals called it. Jay preferred to refer to It's Five O'clock Some Where as a pub as it reminded him of home on some level. The establishment as served as an all day restaurant and he was one of the head waiters.
Work dragged by. Mid-week was never a busy time. He leaned against the side of the bar contemplating what wonderful back story he could come up with for his new muse. "Someone needs a cup of coffee!"
He glanced up: the big bulk of a woman who was the pub's cook was regarding him from between the service divider. "Ah Agnes, you know my expressions too well."
"Up late with a commission I hope?" she asked. Her eyes indicated the coffee pot. "Just put on fresh about fifteen minutes ago."
"Not a commission unfortunately, just an idea. Agnes is there any more cream back in the refrigerator? Thank you my dear."
"I heard rumor that you were out playing as Hercules last night." He sipped his drink. "The young woman alright, I suppose."
"Naturally," chipped in Hoggins the dishwasher. He stopped next to Agnes with his towel tossed over his shoulder. He rubbed his rather awkwardly large nose as he talked, "With a dashing young man about to save her."
Jay scoffed in amusement.
Hoggins seemed to regard something over the young man's shoulder. "Of course maybe I spoke too soon."
"Huh?" Jay looked back over his shoulder- two officers were entering. The coffee made his stomach churn. Ghads, no, he thought anxiously. Officer Winston was one of the two. He greeted them. "Officers, what can we do for you today?"
"Hello Mr. King," said Winston with a nod and a smile. "This is Officer Brown."
"How do you do? Is everything alright?" he then inquired. "The woman last night- she is fine then?"
"Oh yes," assured Brown. "We are actually here on her behalf. She was agitated that she never got to actually thank you last night."
"Now," began Winston. "We don't make it a habit of giving out people's details to victims, but she was most insistent on thanking you."
Jay glanced towards the door.
"She's not here," explained Brown. "But she would like to meet you- we thought maybe a meeting at a restaurant would be more suitable than giving out home addresses."
"Oh well, that… that would be lovely. I am off right before the dinner shift, umm, she can come here. If that works for her that is."
Winston smiled again. "I should think it would work just fine for the lady. Six o'clock then? Wonderful. No, we don't need anything, but thank you. Have a good Mr. King!"
The two officers turned back towards the door. Jay rubbed his face thoughtfully. "Wait!" he called out. "What's her name, the woman?"
Brown spoke up, "It's Sarah, Sarah Williams."
