The Love Timeline, Chapter 1

  A young man sat on a couch in a bar. He was dressed in a simple suit and tie. His dark hair was combed to the side, but he was careful not to reveal any hair lines. He had been sitting in the waiting area for fifteen minutes and it took him an hour and a half to get to this bar. His friend Jacob wasn’t very good at giving directions due to his busy life at the office. His other friend Billy worked at the St. Louis Police Department while another friend Mike worked at a local art studio. Neither of them would have made the time to give directions to particular locations.

  The man sat up and took in his surroundings. At the left side of the room was the bar. A non-smoking zone was at the opposite side. In between them was a small dance floor where a band played jazz music at the back. The whole place was dim, but there was just enough light to be able to see the faces of everyone in the bar.

  "Hello, sir," remarked a waitress. "How are you today?" "I'm good, ma'am," said the man nervously. "I happen to be late for a reservation. It's number fifteen." The waitress nodded. "I see," she said. "Those cats have been waiting for quite a while. One of them had a hard day at work," she explained. "See how blitzed he is?"" She pointed to a table close to a distant window. The man recognized his friends. One of them appeared to have slumped over the table. He could tell it was Jacob. This had happened a few times in the other bars group had visited in the past "Thanks," said the man.

Several traits had made it easy for the man to identify his friends from. Mike had a little paint on his face, hair, and hands. Mike didn’t dress as well as well as the man. His hair was messed up and his clothes were shabby. Billy was bulkier and still had his badge on. This worried the man a little bit. He remembered the time when Billy got so drunk that the rest of the group had to call the cops on him.

  "Well, well," chucked Mike. "Isn't it Clifford Mason? It's about time you showed up. Jacob has had a couple of shots without you." "I can tell," Clifford observed. He gently tilted Jacob's head and a small snore came out of the limp mass. "How much did he drink exactly, Mike?" He asked. "Quite a few," Mike replied. "Define 'quite a few'," Clifford questioned anxiously. Mike lifted up six fingers.

  Clifford sighed. "Sorry I'm late, buds,” he said. “I got lost on the way here. Other than that I am fine. How are you cats doing?" "We're a gas," said Billy. "We're planning to pick up some chicks, or maybe a fox of we're lucky."

  "Hey, Cliff," Mike whispered. "Check out that fox over there." Clifford looked to the direction Mike was staring. A young woman was sitting alone near the bar. Mike chuckled and alleged, "Maybe she's looking for someone to give her a good time. Test your luck on her." "I'll go talk to her," Clifford said.

  Clifford took a deep breath. "Just say hello," he thought. An unfamiliar feeling swelled in his gut with every step he took as he began to realize how lovely the lady looked. Clifford couldn't keep his eyes off of her face. Her short hair seemed to flow around her slender neck and the slight waves framed her soft features. Clifford kept most of his nerve until he realized that that he was standing right next to her

  "May I help you?" The lady asked. "I just came to say 'Hello.'," Clifford said. The woman frowned and remarked, “I’m sorry, I'm already waiting for someone. If you’re planning on asking me out you should have known me the past month." The feeling in Clifford's gut sank to the point he felt sick. "Okay," he said. "I'll be on my way. Sorry to bother you." The woman only nodded.

  Clifford walked back to the table and announced, "She's already waiting for someone." "Better luck next time," Mike sighed.  Clifford looked back at the woman. Her figure was hidden in the angular folds of her stiff clothes. The only thing that stood out most was a yellow scarf that she began to put around her neck.

  She stood up and walked out of the bar. "Where is she going?" He thought. "Wasn't she waiting for someone?" He had another feeling in his gut now, but this time it wasn't a good felling. "I'll be right back," Clifford exclaimed. He quickly stood up and ran out of the door.

  The woman walked across the street into a dark alley. Clifford kept a good distance from her to prevent suspicion. He stood at a corner next to the alley. "Who are you?" the woman questioned aloud. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” There was silence for a minute or two before a loud laugh rang out. "Here I am," a man shouted maniacally. The woman screamed.

  Clifford dashed into the alley. A man was on top of the woman. Clifford couldn't make out the man's face, because it was shaded by a fedora. He appeared bulky underneath his trenchcoat. Clifford shoved the man off of the lady. "Book it," he shouted. The woman staggered up and ran as fast as she could back to the bar.

  “Mind your own business, punk,” the man snarled. He charged at Clifford like a bull and rammed into his gut. Clifford fell to the ground and the rest of his breath was knocked out of him. He tried to take deep breaths, but the man was on top of him with his gigantic hands squeezed tightly around his neck. Clifford could barely hear Billy’s voice in the distance shouting, “Halt! Police!” “That fink,” snarled the man. He released Clifford and ran up the nearby fire escape.