I guess I'd better start this at the beginning, that's typically the best
place to start. There wasn't anything particularly amazing about my life
before I died, nothing that really set me apart from anyone else. I worked
for a small communications company doing a rather small communications job.
Basically, I prank called people for a living. I performed one of those
unglamorous little functions that are necessary to the style of life that
the people of the world have become accustomed to. I tested phone lines by
calling people up, making sure I could understand them, and hanging up
again. Exciting, huh?
Anyway, I met Jen when I was fifteen, during my sophomore year of high school. We stayed friends from then on, sometimes very good friends, sometimes more casual. She was always there for me in moments of need, though, and it was her that I turned to when my mother passed away, just a short ways through my junior year of college. From then on, the path seemed inevitable. First there were the night-long talks on the phone about the trauma that I had experienced, which turned into long talks about life in general and. well you get the picture. Not too long after graduation, we moved in together and about a year later we were engaged.
Jen had always been glad that I kept up my relationships with the friends that I made throughout the years, first because it helped me get through the hard times after mom died, and then because it got me out of her hair every couple of nights or so. It was on one of those particular nights that I got what should have been my first clue to what I would become.
I was twenty one years old when I met Julian Thomas.
My usual crew and I were spending our Thursday night as we usually did, throwing back a couple of beers at our standard watering hole, the Mecca. I was on my fifth game of pool and acquiring my fourth Bud when I encountered Julian at the bar.
"Pretty young, aren't you?" Was how he had begun our conversation.
This strange man who was talking to me sent a peculiar sort of shiver up my spine, and set something in my head to tingling. He was not tall, but not short either. There was something about the way he held himself that made him seem bigger than his compact frame. He had broad, classical features and eyes that I didn't care to look at for more than a moment.
"Twenty-one, if its any of your business, pal."
He chuckled softly then and shook his head, almost wistfully.
"Oh yes, very young indeed."
"What exactly do you want?" I had asked him.
"Nothing, really. Just to offer a little guidance, should you ever want it. And I think you will." He pulled a card from his pocket, then, and handed it to me. It had his name and a phone number printed on it.
"You'll be in touch." He said, and then he walked away.
What was I supposed to think? There went this strange guy who had given me probably the strangest two minutes of conversation I'd ever had, not to mention a serious case of the willies. I decided that the best solution was to make beer run number four include beers five and six and headed back to the table.
When I told the story to Jen, she told me that I should just shake it off. He was probably just some guy trolling for an interested young guy to spend the evening with. When I suggested that maybe I should take him up on that offer, she tossed a pretty heavy book in my direction and laughed it off.
Something about him though, still stuck in my head. I managed to put it out of mind for a few weeks, but the next time I met him, it became undeniable that there was something not quite ordinary about Julian Thomas.
I'd spotted him nursing a glass of something brown at the Mecca on a Friday when I felt that same tingle run down my spine. At the exact same moment, Thomas' head shot up from his drink and he looked toward the door.
Silhouetted against the light from outside was a lanky man who looked to be a little over six feet tall, and he was moving with the look of a man with a mission, directly toward Julian.
I could hear them whispering, but couldn't quite tell about what, and then things got really interesting when Thomas said something to the man that caused him leap to his feet from the barstool he'd plopped down on.
The whole bar could hear him when he started shouting.
"I'll take that kind of thing from no man!"
"Sit down, Darren. This is neither the place nor the time."
"The time is whenever I want it to be, Julian. I'll not forget this. If it takes a hundred years, you'll live to regret this."
"Keep on that path, Darren, and you won't."
Julian had remained very calm and reserved through the whole exchange, but we could all hear the edge in his voice with the last comment, and this Darren could too. He tried for another second to stare down my acquaintance, then gave up with a snarl of disgust and stormed out the door.
The bar breathed an almost audible sigh of relief and I went over to Julian, once more nursing his drink.
"What was that all about?" I asked.
"Mr. Parker, what a pleasant surprise. I wouldn't worry about that. Just an unpleasant disagreement with an old friend."
"You two didn't sound very friendly, if you don't mind my saying so."
"Old friends can be like that. But that's not all that's bothering you, is it, Mr. Parker?"
The way he looked into my eyes with that keen, blue stare of his sent that chill down my spine again. This man wasn't hitting on me, that was for sure. The look he was giving me could more easily be described as that of a jungle cat sizing up another animal, trying to decide if it was prey or something to be ignored.
"Just wanted to see if you were okay." I said, unsteadily.
He laughed at that, that same soft laugh.
"I appreciate your concern, Mr. Parker, truly. I assure you, I am fine."
I shrugged my shoulders and went back to my game, my second encounter no more enlightening than the first. There was one thing that was different this time, though. I knew I'd see him again.
Anyway, I met Jen when I was fifteen, during my sophomore year of high school. We stayed friends from then on, sometimes very good friends, sometimes more casual. She was always there for me in moments of need, though, and it was her that I turned to when my mother passed away, just a short ways through my junior year of college. From then on, the path seemed inevitable. First there were the night-long talks on the phone about the trauma that I had experienced, which turned into long talks about life in general and. well you get the picture. Not too long after graduation, we moved in together and about a year later we were engaged.
Jen had always been glad that I kept up my relationships with the friends that I made throughout the years, first because it helped me get through the hard times after mom died, and then because it got me out of her hair every couple of nights or so. It was on one of those particular nights that I got what should have been my first clue to what I would become.
I was twenty one years old when I met Julian Thomas.
My usual crew and I were spending our Thursday night as we usually did, throwing back a couple of beers at our standard watering hole, the Mecca. I was on my fifth game of pool and acquiring my fourth Bud when I encountered Julian at the bar.
"Pretty young, aren't you?" Was how he had begun our conversation.
This strange man who was talking to me sent a peculiar sort of shiver up my spine, and set something in my head to tingling. He was not tall, but not short either. There was something about the way he held himself that made him seem bigger than his compact frame. He had broad, classical features and eyes that I didn't care to look at for more than a moment.
"Twenty-one, if its any of your business, pal."
He chuckled softly then and shook his head, almost wistfully.
"Oh yes, very young indeed."
"What exactly do you want?" I had asked him.
"Nothing, really. Just to offer a little guidance, should you ever want it. And I think you will." He pulled a card from his pocket, then, and handed it to me. It had his name and a phone number printed on it.
"You'll be in touch." He said, and then he walked away.
What was I supposed to think? There went this strange guy who had given me probably the strangest two minutes of conversation I'd ever had, not to mention a serious case of the willies. I decided that the best solution was to make beer run number four include beers five and six and headed back to the table.
When I told the story to Jen, she told me that I should just shake it off. He was probably just some guy trolling for an interested young guy to spend the evening with. When I suggested that maybe I should take him up on that offer, she tossed a pretty heavy book in my direction and laughed it off.
Something about him though, still stuck in my head. I managed to put it out of mind for a few weeks, but the next time I met him, it became undeniable that there was something not quite ordinary about Julian Thomas.
I'd spotted him nursing a glass of something brown at the Mecca on a Friday when I felt that same tingle run down my spine. At the exact same moment, Thomas' head shot up from his drink and he looked toward the door.
Silhouetted against the light from outside was a lanky man who looked to be a little over six feet tall, and he was moving with the look of a man with a mission, directly toward Julian.
I could hear them whispering, but couldn't quite tell about what, and then things got really interesting when Thomas said something to the man that caused him leap to his feet from the barstool he'd plopped down on.
The whole bar could hear him when he started shouting.
"I'll take that kind of thing from no man!"
"Sit down, Darren. This is neither the place nor the time."
"The time is whenever I want it to be, Julian. I'll not forget this. If it takes a hundred years, you'll live to regret this."
"Keep on that path, Darren, and you won't."
Julian had remained very calm and reserved through the whole exchange, but we could all hear the edge in his voice with the last comment, and this Darren could too. He tried for another second to stare down my acquaintance, then gave up with a snarl of disgust and stormed out the door.
The bar breathed an almost audible sigh of relief and I went over to Julian, once more nursing his drink.
"What was that all about?" I asked.
"Mr. Parker, what a pleasant surprise. I wouldn't worry about that. Just an unpleasant disagreement with an old friend."
"You two didn't sound very friendly, if you don't mind my saying so."
"Old friends can be like that. But that's not all that's bothering you, is it, Mr. Parker?"
The way he looked into my eyes with that keen, blue stare of his sent that chill down my spine again. This man wasn't hitting on me, that was for sure. The look he was giving me could more easily be described as that of a jungle cat sizing up another animal, trying to decide if it was prey or something to be ignored.
"Just wanted to see if you were okay." I said, unsteadily.
He laughed at that, that same soft laugh.
"I appreciate your concern, Mr. Parker, truly. I assure you, I am fine."
I shrugged my shoulders and went back to my game, my second encounter no more enlightening than the first. There was one thing that was different this time, though. I knew I'd see him again.
