Enough babbling from me, here you are!
----------------------------
Well, crap. This rant's not gonna end any time soon, is it?
Can't believe it took me until I pulled into the parking lot for me to remember I left my lunch on the kitchen table back at home.
If I did, I would've turned Ryan down to eat out.
He's a bit of a talker. A fast talker to be honest. Like, the kind that you have to repeatedly ask what he said three times in a row to make sure you get a good understanding of what he's saying. He still has that auctioneer vibe going with him after all this time, so I'm not really all that surprised. After all, I've heard many of my clientele speak at hyper-speed, no-breath-in-between, "What is this thing you call an indoor voice" kinda way often enough that I'm not phased by it as much as I was two years ago. He'd match up with some of the soccer mom's in an argument.
"So, I told him, 'John, the reason why she ain't callin' is cuz' you don't follow through,' but he's damn adamant that he ain't the problem. That she should have brought it up to HR if they were having a real problem, which, mind you, it is since people get fired for stupid shit like that. But he's a dense fucker who doesn't understand that being told three times to drop the act and stop snoopin' into other people's offices means exactly that!"
"Sounds to me like both of them are to blame. I mean, she's the one that asked him to see Greg, right?"
"Yeah, she did. But there's a difference between seeing someone and breaking into someone's office to take papers outta their desk when he doesn't even know if they're finished! Patricia ain't the type of woman to have someone break into their office without their permissions and take from their desks! I've worked with her for five years and not once did she have anyone do anything that get them into trouble!"
I don't really have much to say so I take a bite into my blueberry muffin.
Don't get me wrong: I like Ryan. I really do, but we're not even in the same firm. I mean, at one point, we worked at the same cafe job back in community college, but that's it. Any of these people he's talking about are in his office, not mine. I don't know them from Adam, although he makes it out like I should. Plus, believe it or not, I'm not a big fan of gossip. What was it my mother said? Chatty mouths leads to catty prowls? Catty frowns? Something. I don't remember.
Either way, I really want to change topics. He'll talk about this all the live long day without me getting many words in by the end of my lunch break.
"So, tell me about your stepson? He doing okay?" I bring up. He's been at odds with his new kid since he married a woman from Chicago over three months ago. Apparently, his wife's previous marriage ended in a nasty divorce. And Oliver wasn't over it. I just hope he took the bait to bail out about his coworker.
He did.
"We're...getting there...I think." he sighed. He was cooling off. Good. "Like, I went to his lacrosse game last week. Their team lost, but he said he was shocked to see me there. As if I wouldn't be there if I could. I mean, Eve and I were going to go together but she had something come up at work and she couldn't get out on time. Still, I call it progress. Going to the next one this Saturday."
"Good, good." I really am glad for him. When he told me in the beginning that he was marrying a woman eight years his senior with a kid, I had my doubts it would work out when they were dating. And now he's married to her and getting along with the boy. Good for him. "I'd say take him out once in the while if you can. Like, not just for his games, but...you know, go rock climbing or something. I dunno."
Ryan laughed and patted his stomach. He had gained a considerable amount of weight since I first saw him. "I can't think of rock climbing until I hit the gym. Work this belly off. Unlike you, Mr. Roadrunner, staying on the go time I see you."
Heh.
"I'm a home body. I don't really move all that much."
"Don't move that much my ass. I try to call you every other day and you almost never pick up. Like, I can probably count all the times on my hands."
"You call me at the worst times, that's all." This coffee's kind of bitter now that I finally get a sip in. Should have added more sugar.
"Oh that's bullshit. I call you on Saturdays and after 7:00."
"Like I said, worst time. I'm busy."
"With what!?"
One of the baristas comes over with a tray of a slice of fresh apple pie just when I was about to make up some crap. "Sorry for the wait sir. Here you are," she says, placing down Ryan's apple pie. They had to make another batch since they ran out literally minutes before we got in the line. Thank God this cafe is closer than Starbucks. Cheaper too.
"Thank you very much," Ryan told the lady who walked back with a smile. Her name was Nia if I recall correctly. Twenty one or twenty-two? The latter I think. Blasian woman working part time and going to trade school at the same time. Hot as hell in that pencil skirt and yellow blouse. Has a boyfriend in the military and she lives in his apartment for the time being with a four-year-old dachshund rescue.
How do I know all this? Long story. I'll get into that soon enough.
"So, what are you busy with?"
Oh yeah. Ryan asked me that.
"You know. House cleaning. Chores. Grocery shopping. Volunteer work."
"Every week?"
"Every week."
Ryan always gives me that look when he isn't buying it. I've seen it enough times to recognize it for what it was ages ago. Luckily for me, he isn't the type of guy to prod into my personal life all that often. He knows I'm a private person most of the time. I hate having my business out there if I can help it.
Oh wait a minute, I haven't introduced myself yet. Oops. Guess that shows you how often I get the chance to talk about myself.
My name's Zachary Gilman. Of course, as you'd expect, everyone just calls me Zack. I'm 27 years old. I work as an accountant for a retail firm that just started to pick up steam. Worked here for about three and a half years. I have several hobbies. Cocktail-mixing, jogging, researching...that's just a few. I'm pretty active most of the time. But nothing stands out about me all that much. I've met more eccentric people in my lifetime.
Ryan's tearing through his apple pie quicker than I thought. Must've been hungry as hell. But for some reason, his eyes are on the widescreen TV in the far corner of the cafe.
When I turn around, I see why he's so into it.
Ah.
"There seems to be a hell of a lot of women going missing in this town."There is a silver alert for Meghan Rhodes who was last seen leaving a 7-11 of Goldren Avenue at around 11:00 PM Sunday night. Police are asking for anyone who may have seen her around this time to report any possible suspicious activity that may have going around in the area. Police believe that she was possibly kidnapped on her way home. No suspects have been found as of this time but if you..."
Ain't that the truth. "People go missing all the time though."
"Yeah, but there are like maybe, what, Twenty-thousand people in this town? People are going to notice that shit."
"It is scary to think about."
"You see, this is why I don't want Eve staying out late like that. I mean, I'm in no position to tell her what to do after work. She drinks late, I drink late; I'd be a fucking hypocrite. But damn does it scare me that there is a creep probably snatching these women up left and right. You know about that last girl? From seven months ago? What's her name...uh, Jill? Jane?"
"I think it was..Janet or Jessie or something?" I offered. Yeah, this coffee is way more bitter than I thought. Next time, three packets of sugar,
"Right! Janet Delhopp! They found her car still parked at the club she went to with friends. Decided to leave the party and, wham! Never heard from again. They even found her taser on the ground. Scary stuff." He finished the apple pie and drunk some of his cappuccino. "Now, I don't want to sound morbid but I'm betting her and those other girls are dead."
"Ryan, that is morbid."
"Well, I mean, what else? Six girls go missing every few months, no trace or hair or nothin'. Like, guy seems to only aim for women but when things like that happen so close...just damn."
I basically chug the rest of coffee down. Good thing I have water too to get rid of that bitter aftertaste. "Your wife's smart...and I'm pretty sure she's going to be fine. Don't worry yourself too much. Besides, one thing I've noticed is that many of these girls are either single or in unstable relationships. I mean, your wife has it all together now it seems."
Yeah, there's been several women going missing in the past few years. Usually six to seven months apart from each other. None of them related, all of them without a trace. I remember watching the news and reading the news-feed on how they thought one of the girls, Lori McDonough, had been kidnapped by her abusive boyfriend at the time. Think he's still their prime suspect. I don't know, I don't keep up with the news as much as most people. Just certain things like that.
As you've probably gathered, Meghan was the latest woman to go missing. Her mother probably put in the missing person's report as soon as possible. After all, four days is a long time for someone to take for a short errand run.
Oh crap, what time is it?
"I have seven minutes to get back to work. Sorry Ryan. Gotta go." I take up my empty tray and cup, since I really did have a few more things I had to get out the way earlier today. Fiscal period being around the corner and all. "Sorry I have to cut this short."
"No worries, I have to go in a bit too. Thanks for finally hanging out with me after a blue moon."
I can't help but smile. It has been a while hasn't it. And, truth be told, when he isn't on a long-winded spiel, I don't mind hanging out with him. "Catch you later Ryan."
"See you Zack."
---
I hate getting home after seven o'clock. Fortunately, it isn't as late as it was last week.
The moment the door closes behind me, I feel the true definition of American freedom.
"I'm home!" I call out, not that I get a response. And no, I don't live alone. In case you were wondering.
I flick the lights on in my apartment and head straight for the cupboard. I always get suddenly dehydrated whenever I step in my apartment. Well, I know it's just me, but whatever. Still thirsty as hell.
Hopefully the others haven't been deprived of water. Gotta check the tanks in my bedroom. I'd feel awful knowing my pets were just as thirsty as I was. I'm not neglectful, mind you, but for the past few days I've been so over my head in work, it's hard to keep track with everything, you know? I checked the tanks yesterday, and they were filled to the brim but the hot water one was acting wonky earlier, so I had tried to fix it, which took out the cold water. I think I fixed it, but didn't get the chance to check to see if it worked this morning.
Ugh, another three weeks until my three-day weekend.
I checked for the usual. Only two missed calls, no unread text messages, and three envelopes of mail. Bills of course.
Nothing to hinder me from seeing my adorable, little playthings.
As you've probably guessed, I do have a bit of an odd hobby. One I can't share with anyone, not even my parents or younger sister. You'll see in a minute.
I enter my bedroom, probably the cleanest place in my entire apartment and the only room no one's allowed to enter.
Mostly no one, I suppose.
There's not really much to look at I guess. It's a big room, but I'm not usually a fan of having too much sentimental stuff all about for everyone to see, or having decorations after decorations all over the place outside the main hall and kitchen. I'm a bachelor, I can get away with that. Besides, the landlord would have my ass if I ruined the paint on the wall.
Well, there is one thing that I have.
On my desk, where the drawers are, I have a 1:20 scale dollhouse. A tiny bit bigger than my laptop. And far more furnished than my own abode. And it's pink as all hell. Good lord, any brighter and it would give me a seizure. Fortunately, that's just the exterior.
But really, this wasn't cheap. It has eight bedrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, family room and a makeshift bathroom. I had to make the... adjustments to make sure some things were functional. Can't have a toilet that can't flush or a lamp that can't turn on. Nothing's there just for show.
Speaking of...
Oh, and it looks like the tanks were working after all.
Good to know!
Well, time to check on them!
I push the latch of the top of the dollhouse and lift the roof.
And there are my cute little dolls. At least, that's what I call them from time to time.
Janet's huddled up in a ball on the couch, as usual. She almost never bothers to look at me when I look inside. Not unless I make her. At least she isn't sniveling and crying anymore like she did the first few months. All the girls went through that phase when I brought them here, but she went on for an awfully long time. I was getting impatient. She probably sensed it.
Kelsey looked like she was asleep. This time, for real. She usually pretends to sleep, thinking I won't bother her. Well, I don't...unless I know she's playing possum. Or when I decide to play along. She would have stopped the act ages ago if she knew how often I knew she played pretend.
Alejandra always freezes whenever I remove the roof. Always. No matter what's she doing. Apparently, she had been in the middle of reading one of the miniaturized books. She always was a bookworm, both her and Si-yeon. Well, Si-yeon was more of a casual reader now that I think about it. I spot her near the door of her room, glaring up at me. It's so cute to see someone barely the size of your fingers try to give you a threatening look. I want to snatch her up, and I will in a bit but first...
I glance at the dining room table in the center of the dollhouse. The new ones always try to hide at first and I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a kick out of it when it happened. It's just so precious.
With a finger, I lift the table and push it to the side.
Hands over her head and trembling like crazy was little, three-inch tall Meghan Rhodes, looking up at me with those terrified, blue eyes of hers. Her tiny whimpering barely reaching my ear.
Let me reintroduce myself.
My name is Zack. I'm a 27-year-old accountant. I like mixology, jogging and researching...
...Oh, and of course, shrinking and kidnapping women for my own.