Chapter 4 – Like Minds
(Sc. 1)
Somewhere in London, a beefy, tall man in a business suit, shipshape and suave, moves along a clean carpeted hallway. He turns to a bend and enters a room—a vast, minimalist conference room—filled with businessmen, who ooze with importance and gravity.
Sid Rinsky finds not one head turning to his direction. Good. But he'll soon have to distract them, any second from now. He recalls how efficiently Emmanuel does his job. Any news concerning the name of the company, including any mistake done by the son or the daughter in their lives, the mother should directly be informed. Even if she's in the middle of an important meeting. He has no choice. He's the head of her bodyguards and Emmanuel is not present at the moment.
Upon spotting the star of this meeting, the only woman among this bunch of gray-haired men, he wonders how Catherine Spencer is as a mother. What is she like, minus the CEO title… The woman meets gazes with him and he almost chokes. She raises an eyebrow at him, not fighting the superior air about her.
He then walks towards her in downright quickness. Upon reaching her, he leans over and whispers something to the queen of the Spencer Empire. The meeting keeps on, as though he remains invisible. Good.
"Mr. Spencer has left…" as he tells her the news in an undertone.
The company heir leaving Paris…abandoning the surprise plan of pairing him up with that precious French heiress. It's pretty obvious that her children's muddles keep her in her toes, too. But it's also obvious that it's not mother-like. Her future plans for the company's undying success make up the fifty percent of the whole scenario. The other fifty is watching her children's every move and arranging their future. It's for this empire. Her empire.
Sid leans back after a couple of words that sum up the story of Derrick's early antic. And that's when he catches a glimpse of the woman's reaction.
Looking out the extensive window at the night cityscape outside, Sid sees her taking one poised yet deep breath and then blinking heavily once. Those eyes say it all. Like she could crush anyone with her bare hands right now and she's just holding back. That power and energy… Dark and heavy. Sid concludes that it's probably because, to her, someone getting past her is something that is entirely new. Or unacceptable. Is there anyone out there more terrifying than Derrick Spencer's mother?
[Well, there must be a reason why he calls her the witch.]
Then, in a second, Catherine Spencer shifts back to her elegant, professional façade, smiling at her investors like a pompous and confident yet incalculable Queen Bee.
(Sc. 2)
[Do I want to know his name? It's a huge city. It's highly unlikely that I'll ever bump into this dude again. Okay. No need.]
Briony has now three books locked in her right arm while her eyes are still combing the fifth row with the help of her left hand. As she checks the titles one by one, from the right towards the left end of the shelf that makes up the farthest corner of the library, she dare not take her eyes off the books. She dare not look to her left. She knows he's there, standing and leaning against the white wall.
"Is this urgent?" she asks the guy, taking just a quick peek at him.
"Uhm, yes," sounding doubtful, even more emphasized by how his hoodie covers his head. His head is slightly turned down as he flips through some pictures in his cell phone with his thumb.
"You see, I don't know a single thing about sailing. I don't know why you picked me."
"I didn't pick you. You're the first tiny person my eyes laid on and so, I thought I could use someone unnoticeable."
[Wow. Tiny person. Unnoticeable. Gee. The wings of my tiny heart, capital T, capital H, flutters unnoticeably.] "Thanks. Glad I ticked all the boxes."
"Why? You want me to offer this to somebody else. You do want to get paid, right?"
[That just made me feel uncomfortable.] While Briony do want to get paid, the satisfaction of having truly helped someone in exchange of a fee is also a box that she wants to tick. Not for anybody else's peace but hers.
"Of course. I like working which means I also like getting paid. That wouldn't be such a bad thing."
"Good," he said, still without looking, "carry on, then."
Not entertaining the idea of being piqued by his voice, Briony huffs ever so carefully so as not to be heard. But then she thinks she hears him—very briefly—snicker. She glances at him in a second and then finally pulls out from the row a title she likes. She then evaluates what she picked out from that short glance—his expression—but only ends up concluding, [You were clearly worried before, almost powerless, as though someone's out to get you. But now? Okay, let's see…]
"So, is this for an art project? Homework?"
"Nope and nope."
"Oh, I know. It's for you. You're going to run, aren't you?"
And suddenly, it's not uncomfortable for Briony anymore. She knows then she has just decoded something, seeing the guy's reaction: definitely stupefied. But upon capturing the shadow in her short-term employer's face, that stunned expression that he is now trying hard to conceal by not showing any more emotions than he just already did, and the silence that follows, uneasiness creeps back in. Briony realizes then that she has just ticked another box that was not supposed to be there.
"Nope," the guy responds, bland and calm.
[I better change the subject.]
"So, you love sailing?"
He doesn't answer.
"Do you know anything about sailing?" she follows up quickly.
"So, less talk, more action?" as he finally stares back.
"Hey, for all I know, I'm picking up the wrong books here. How many do you want, anyway?"
"Get everything…worthwhile."
"We can't do that. This is a small library and it's family-owned. So, there's a limit. Like ten books."
"Then, get all ten."
"They only have eight, I already got four."
"Then, why did you ask?"
[Wait a second…]
"Sshh," as Briony whispers unexpectedly, leaving her handsome, young employer even more confused. She stealthily walks away from her little babble with him, almost in a tiptoe manner, to the end part of the next shelf behind her. Then, she stands on her toes to get a good look of what's taking place in the aisle after one more shelf.
A scared, thick eyeglass-wearing boy, who's probably a few years younger than her, is cornered by three other boys who are a far cry from the poor geek. [Peter Parker lookalike versus thug-wannabes who are not even taller than…this strange guy behind me.]
This is Briony. Without warning, her protective nature kicks in.
Without any warning again, Briony briskly turns back to her young boss, leaping to hand over the books, as she whispers with a wrinkled forehead and fierce eyes, "I can't believe this. Could you hold these for me for a second, please? I'll be back."
And away she goes to the man behind the checkout countertop. Again, this is Briony, who always feels like she has to do something whenever...
"Another boy is being cornered in Aisle 7, Mr. Stewart, by the same bastards from last week," Briony notifies the 50-something-year-old male employee, who seems busy but stops for her, implying then that Briony is a regular there and a friend.
"Well, you know what to do," says Mr. Stewart as he entrusts to her his ID.
Briony walks then confidently in the direction of Aisle 7 and passes by her confused yet also curious employer, who emerges from their aisle just to see what she's up to, although not completely. She then braves said aisle, trapping the culprits and holding up the ID as though it's hers. She finds one of them three holding the poor boy by the collar as though he's some puppy.
"Seriously. You guys have nothing else better to do? Nothing? Anything productive? Not even a tad?"
They let go of their prey. These three bullies then start walking away, passing by her and giving her the sniggers.
[Yeah, you better walk away.] But then…
Upon reaching the library's entrance door, one of these three bullies, the one who brutishly held their victim's collar at arm's length earlier, gives her an ominous warning out loud, "Hey! Pray to God you don't run into me down the street, stupid girly! You better watch out!"
"Hey!" Mr. Stewart snaps at them.
"Dude, I always pray!" Briony answers back, not minding that the bookworms of the library are now looking at her, too. "Sorry, guys. That was a replay."
[Well, not exactly a replay.] Briony soon realizes then that this time it's troubling because this time, a threat has been introduced.
"Young lady," Mr. Stewart says in disapproval but not of her words.
Briony shyly smiles at the old man and mouths 'Sorry' as she returns his ID and whispers 'Thank you.'
She goes back to her employer and gathers back the books from him as she also tells him pleasantly, "Sorry." She then returns to her task of picking up the right books for him about sailing, as though nothing noticeable had just happened. However, eventually, she starts feeling the weight of his gaze…
His bemused gaze upon her and unsure smile.
"What?"
He gapes as though he's about to say something in response but fails.
"This city is going to eat you up if you don't stand your ground, you know. You need…valiance." [Finally! An opportunity to use that word…]
She watches him smile a little but favorably and look away like he's recalling something to mind.
"Not just the city. The entire world."
[Oh, so we do understand each other all along.]
(Sc. 3)
At a dainty, rustic coffee shop nearby, and by nearby that means near the most recent setting, which was that public library where he just met a girl, whose peculiar existence he had never encountered before, Derrick Spencer sips coffee as he stares at the pile of books before him. Seven books.
No Sweat: Sailing Made Easy For You.
Complex Sailing for a Dummy Like You.
Committed to Sailing.
Sailing: Befriend the Wind.
The Elementary School of Sailing.
The Seafarer's Way: Not for the Faint of Heart.
Sailing Adventures: Maps and Memoirs.
[Hmm. This last one… Memoirs?] This Derrick opens and skims through. Not exactly filled with instructions, rather it's a book about real adventures of different people who braved the seas. With photos, maps and, well, memories that read like either interviews or journal entries. He then closes the book and looks at the front cover again. [Might not be a bad idea to have this, too. Nice one, peculiar girl.]
[I like working which means I also like getting paid. That wouldn't be such a bad thing.] He hears her voice from a corner in his memory chamber. [This city is going to eat you up if you don't stand your ground, you know. You need…valiance.]
Derrick had decided before to not bother asking what her name was anymore. He thought there was no need for that; he's certain anyway he wouldn't cross paths with her again. Especially now that he has to focus. On surviving. On being in control. On finally being free. It's not going to be easy. But he feels he has no choice if he wants to stay sane.
Sailing.
[But this idea isn't too crazy either, right?] He tries to convince himself for the nth time. He then wonders if he should've asked, at least, the peculiar girl not to tell anybody about their meeting and the sailing thing. [Oh come on. You're not going to see her again. And besides, she looked like someone…someone… How do I put this? Someone who…who doesn't feel the need to be surrounded by a lot of friends?]
Unexpectedly and surprisingly, he finds that idea of a girl unfamiliar even if he also knows two young women who are kind of similar if social class is out of the question. His older sister Cassandra and another childhood close friend Charmaine. But on the other hand, recalling the image of this peculiar girl alone sends him into foreign territory but with a fusion of two other places: somewhere unsettling and somewhere liberating.
"Who does she think she is?"
"Why don't you show her who she's messing with?"
"Yeah, come on. Let's wait outside that library."
But then, the moment Derrick hears that conversation from the other table, he realizes right away who those people are. Those voices he still hasn't forgotten as they're still too familiar, given that he was also in that library earlier.
In the next second, Derrick finds himself gathering those borrowed books back into the brown eco-friendly bag and then he's outside, sprinting.
To return to the library.
Now, upon arriving, he then finds it disadvantageous to go back inside. Derrick peers through one of the library's front windows instead and immediately spots the peculiar girl.
She's at the counter, checking out her own choice of books.
"Hurry," Derrick lets out a whisper, sounding worried and impatient.
Good thing, he catches sight of a vacant cab approaching, just a few seconds away until it passes by the spot where he's standing. Hailing it, the driver sees him, accepts and steers towards him…
…just about the same time that Ms. Peculiar gets out of the library and recognizes him straightaway.
[Finally.]
"Oh hey, I thought you left," she says, as she starts to open her bag and searches for something. "Wait. This looks really expensive so I knew you're going to return for—"
"Yeah, sure, but no time for that," Derrick quickly responds, feeling a little guilty that he has to do this impetuously, especially after picking out from afar those three guys. They have just emerged from the street corner which was not so short a distance, obviously headed for the library, too.
Leading her to the cab's passenger door, Derrick is careful to just lightly put his hand on her upper back, but not without haste. "The cab's here, hurry," as he opens the door for her, impelling her to just enter.
"Uhm wait, this cab's not mine—"
"No-no, I'm paying for it."
"You just paid me. I don't need to take a cab. I just walk—"
"No-no, uh…this is a bonus."
"I get a bonus?" she asks in astonishment as her face lights up. "So, you liked the books?"
[Oh my God, she looks so happy.]
"Yeah-yeah, they're da bomb so just get in, please," as he finally hustles her into the passenger's seat and closes the door. He then immediately shifts his attention to the driver through the open window of the front passenger's door and pays the driver in advance, although the payment is obviously more than the expected fare. "Could you make sure she's dropped off exactly in front of her house? Thank you."
Walking backwards away from the cab, Derrick briefly recalls how people tap the back of a vehicle to bid the people in it goodbye and tries to awkwardly do the same. That's a first for him. He has never done that before being, well, Derrick Spencer.
As the cab leaves, Derrick watches in his peripheral the three bullies unwittingly entering the library. And right after that, he is finally able to breathe easily. But instant wonder and disbelief fill in as well. He then stops himself.
[What just happened?]