Chapter #22Apparitions, Suppositions and Disapparitions by: Nostrum   "I think this looks good on me," said Jeff for the fourth time, but Mireya wasn’t satisfied. It was an improvement—dark colors seemed to suit him—but it made him blend, rather than stand out. "But does it need to have a bow tie?"
"Jeff," she said with a firm, motherly tone, "it’s your best friend’s wedding. You should look the best, not like you’re coming in from work!"
"Alright, yeah, you’re right, but this doesn’t look bad for the wedding."
"Doesn’t look good either." Mireya rubbed her forehead, figuring out what would suit him. Black, always a perfect choice, and one that contrasted with his hair, didn’t seem to do anything to distinguish him. Was this another Sulva trait? She had read on them a bit, and they were great at blending in, but she needed him to stand out.
She turned towards the attendant, brandishing a smile. "Can you leave us alone for a moment? And do you have this size but dark blue? Maybe with a sash for his waist?"
"Certainly," said the attendant. After she'd left, Mireya leaned in toward Jeff and whispered to his ear.
"Jeff, are you trying to look unremarkable on purpose?"
"Uh ... No." But his eyes darted.
"Jeff, I know you’re uneasy, but take this moment to relax."
"You don’t—!" Jeff seemed about to explode—an unusual reaction—but he caught himself with a sigh. "What if Blackwell’s here? He has the Summa. He could be anyone, anywhere!" He glanced off toward the attendant. "He could be that woman helping us now!"
Rolling her eyes, Mireya patted Jeff’s shoulder. "Jeff, if he was smarter, he’d figure you left this place years ago. He can’t have eyes everywhere, and we’ve been careful so far. And I told you, you're pretty much unrecognizable!" Her look shifted as a thought crossed her mind. "Say, how about we visit those friends of yours? If they recognize you from the start, I’ll believe you. Otherwise ... Relax, and enjoy this."
"Y-yeah..." Mireya’s words seemed to work their magic on Jeff, but he was still on the edge. "That makes sense."
I can’t believe I have to do this, she thought, but it was necessary. "And I also need to find a dress for myself. You won’t be able to help me on that if you’re skittery, no?"
Jeff’s cheeks blushed a tinge deeper than simply rosy. "You serious?"
"I need someone who has a good idea how I’d look, no?" Seeing as how Jeff swallowed his tongue, she stood straight, fists on her waist, mockingly menacing. "Don’t tell me you didn’t have the chance to get a good look at me with that thing...!?"
Jeff’s eyes snapped on Mireya. "What thing?"
Mireya’s look hardened despite her flirty smirk. "You know what. The mask!" she said in a whisper.
"Th-that was an experiment Nash and I did!"
"Jeff," she countered in a serious but friendly tone. "I know you. Even if I didn’t, I figure you’re a guy that’s too shy to talk to women, and you got that leery look on you sometimes. It’s alright if you did. We’re friends, no?"
Jeff nodded. "Uh ... y-yeah."
Mireya chuckled, relaxing her pose. "That’s it! I won’t bite if you say you posed on the mirror while looking as me." Seeing the nervous wreck of a man blush even harder, she playfully teased him with an accusing look. "Don’t tell me you went any further..."
Both leaped a little as the attendant appeared at Mireya's elbow. "Here’s the suit you asked for."
"Right!" She gave one last good look at Jeff, confirming her suspicions. The suit looked better on him, but it wasn’t enough. She placed the new suit in front, while he was recovering from the shock. Perhaps it was the subtle sparkle design on the suit, or the way it resembled the night sky, but that last ensemble would definitely make Jeff stand out.
If he, of course, allowed himself to. But why wouldn’t he? He was handsome if he took the effort to do so. He could work on his charisma, though.
--
Mireya felt surprised that a place such as Saratoga Falls could cater to nearly everybody. She expected a run-of-the-mill midwestern town, perhaps more rural, not a bustling place much like Santiago de los Caballeros. Certainly, however, she didn’t expect something as the Shoppes at Fell’s Lake; a small set of exclusive stores fronting a lakeshore.
Seeing the contrast between this establishment and the nearby mall within the place gave a sense of wonder to the bounty hunter, who rarely visited this side of the United States, and who always thought of the heartland as unsullied by civilization. The town, she thought, was only a slight expansion and a handful of condos short of being a full-fledged city.
And the exclusivity of the stores was a testament to their quality. Chesterbrook Clothiers, an establishment specializing in formal attire for men, felt like it had been transplanted from London itself—the attention of the attendant, her poise and formality, the dark ambiance of its wallpaper and the atelier within made a contrast to both small clothing businesses and larger stores. Though the Shoppes had their restaurants and cafes, Mireya and Jeff thriftily settled for the food court at neighboring Northgate Mall.
As they ate, Mireya lost no time in asking Jeff about his previous life. She already knew a few things—that his father had worked as an engineer at a plant called Salopek Engineering, that he studied in one of the two major public high schools, and the rumors of a secret hangout for teenagers which he never had the chance to visit. She inquired further about his high school friends, prompting him to tell her a little more about Caleb and Keith, but also his other acquaintances—smart-alecks Carson Ioeger and James Lamont, as well as, surprisingly, cheerleaders such as Jenny Ashton and Yumi Saito. She wondered what would Jeff do if he met one of them—or even someone from his old school, at least before the wedding—when she heard a loud, dry and disgusting shout from behind them. "Hey. You. Stop!"
As she turned, she saw a security guard shouting at their direction. The man was large, strong and with a full belly that struggled to be contained in his uniform. His light auburn hair on a buzzcut ended on shaved sideburns fading into a five-o'clock shadow on his rotund face—a face that, with his flat nose, squinting beady eyes and bent ears (due to his cap) gave the impression of a very angry Porky Pig. He seemed nonetheless somewhat athletic—what with his large arms and legs that could barely hold his frame, allowing him to charge as if a wild boar on the rampage. The guard rush past them, wrapping his arms on a shoplifter that had tried to pass them unseen—a feat that made her recall Jeff somehow.
But as she turned to remark to Jeff, she caught herself. Jeff had turned as white as chalk, and there was a greenish tinge in his cheeks. His teeth were gritted, and one of his hands was clenched tight even as the other rested loosely on the table top. She glanced back at the guard, who was busy patting down the would-be shoplifter, and chanced a guess. "Do you know one of them?"
Jeff curtly shook his head, but remained rigid in his seat. He's like a bird that's terrified of a snake, Mireya thought. Not until the guard had hustled his prisoner off did Jeff relax a little, but he still hadn't recovered his color. He let his breath out with a sigh. "Thank you, Sulva," he muttered in a voice so low that Mireya wasn't sure she had caught the words right.
"You did know one of them!" Mireya accused him.
Jeff gave her a sullen look. "The guard. He used to hassle me and my friends back in school. Lester Pozniak. We called him ‘Lester the Molester’."
Mireya chuckled. "Well, I’ll admit it’s creative, but—" Her jaw dropped. "Oh my goodness. You actually disappeared on him!"
"I tried to," Jeff admitted.
Mireya laughed again. "He wouldn't have recognized you even if you let him see you!"
"Better safe than sorry."
"You didn't have to worry, Jeff. He wasn't going to— Do you really think he would pick up where he left off with you?" Mireya couldn't suppress a guffaw. "Even if he did, he wouldn't risk his job! And he's grown up now!" She glanced back at the retreating figure of the guard as he waddled off. "Seems he's turned over a new leaf."
Jeff squirmed in his chair. Mireya found it remarkable that, three years out of school, Jeff could react to the presence of a hated schoolmate so strongly.
"Relax," she said in a soft tone. "You’re worrying too much. Besides, if he still has a grudge on you, don’t forget I have a mean right hook."
Jeff gave her a wry look, but he relaxed. "Right," he said. "Like I'd want to hide behind a girl!"
Mireya lightly rapped him across the nose. "Behind a well-trained cop that can wrestle bears, remember!" Then she patted his arm. "You’re safe with me."
But as they cleaned up from their meal, Mireya wondered why she had spoken those words. Sure: she was willing to protect him, which was one of the reasons why she had made the trip, but she felt something else behind them. Perhaps it was her big sister instinct to watch over him, but she couldn’t help feel strangely attached to Jeff’s mousy reaction. She felt like hugging him, bringing him close to her, make him feel safe and sound.
Perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her, but there were way too many couples today, and way too many green and envious eyes landing on them...  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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