Ch.2/Ch3 (chronologically) - edited

TWO
full chapter

On the surface, Michael was the ideal man, successful, groomed, and elegant to a fault. The white stripes of his black suit jacket complemented the thin, alternating white and silver slants of his yellow tie.  He had a sternly knitted brow that exposed him as a man of at least forty.  He moved silently through the store, watching Krim.  Following him.  He watched Krim nonchalantly pick up a dark, hardcover book off a display case on the side of the stocked, wooden shelf. He stood about twenty yards back beside a poster of Gwen and her book when Krim got in line to have a copy signed.

He did not know who Gwen was.  He had never heard of her.  But, he sensed Father's touch illuminate exude her.  It made her almost a part of him.  No less than a sister and a piece in an ancient struggle to free Father at any cost.  More importantly, Krim now stood in line for her.  Krim - who had refused Father - waited in line for her.  This was a lead he had to develop.

Michael stepped off the polished floor, onto the carpet that covered the aisles of shelves and down to the end of the aisle where he turned left.  He continued down, along the wall until he was directly across from the table where Mail sat.  He stepped back into the aisle and closed in on Gwen. 

Almost in the clearing now, the polished floor and the table only feet away from him, he grabbed a nearby Robert Patterson novel and flipped through the pages.  His eyes fixed on Gwen, watching as she smiled brightly at a fan, shook hands, made conversation as she signed, handed the book back, and shook hands one last time.  She repeated the process for them all. That she seemed earnest and disarming didn't concern him.  It was what she did after she sent the line coordinator - a petite woman in a dark suite with a white badge hanging in front of her - off with a middle aged man that caught him. 

Krim stepped up to the table next and words, inaudible, were exchanged.  She pressed her right hand against her blouse and it was enough. Michael sensed a current raging in the space between the two. Human love maybe.  Imperfect and ferocious.  Broken but unrelinquished. 

He pulled out a cellphone and silently took a few pictures of them.  Once done, Michael walked away. He made his way down the elevator then across the store foyer and onto the brisk, outside air.  He went in his car and waited until he saw Krim step out.  Michael's eyes locked on him as Krim looked about a moment then walked by Michael's tinted windshield to his car and drove off. 

Michael's car rolled to a stop on the side of the road as Krim's crimson back lights disappeared into a pair of dark iron gates.  The gates closed and he continued to look on - until Krim appeared at the balcony above.  Now their eyes locked, separated only by a layer of dark fiberglass.  Michael took out his phone and dialed.

"AirQuantic Airlines." The female operator said.

"I'd like purchase a ticket for Johannesburg, South Africa. One-way."

"May I have your name, Sir?"

"Michael Pontiff."


*****


Michael Pontiff walked with a deliberate step through the coarsely lit manila corridor, still in his striped dark suit.  His black, dress shoes new only hours ago now appeared  scratched and dusty on the granular floor.  He came to an opening in the wall and sauntered into a bright room covered in newspapers and books.  On one side of the crack the ceiling was essentially gray rock.  On the other, smaller side it was the same manila color as the walls.

Beneath the crack, a man in an olive green t-shirt and worn out black pants stood stood facing the far wall.  He looked in his thirties, of average height with tousled, short blond hair and long sideburns.  But, in reality, he was older.  Two days’ stubble accentuated his long, pouty lips.  And his bright blue eyes made him an attractive man at any age.

"I want to be free, Michael. Do you realize how badly I want to get out?" The man in sandals stood just under the crack and stared up at it. His back still to Michael.

"Yes," Michael replied with a solemn gaze.  His eyes were nearly black, and bottomless as a pit.

The man in sandals didn't bother to turn, but instead sat on the bare floor and turned on the TV with a nearby remote.  He had grown accustomed to sitting this way and felt comfortable. 

"I remember the world.  I still remember everything about it. Blades of glass like emeralds.  The warmth of the sun on my face."  He sighed deeply as Michael walked into the man's line of sight.  The man set his steely blue eyes up on Michael, "I have no patience left in me."

"I can bring him to you again."

The man in sandals shook his head briefly. "He reproached me once.  He must be compelled this time.  Somehow.  I won't wait anymore."

"Perhaps she can be of use," Michael pulled out his phone, pulled up the pictures of Gwen and Krim at the bookstore and handed it to the man.

"Who is she?"

"Gwen Levieva.  I sensed she was yours."

"Gwen Levieva."  The man went over the name and the face in his head.  Then, "Yes. She wanted to write.  She still has a couple years on her second life."

"In the time I've followed him, he has never gone to such an event and," Michael gazed down at the screen and then back at the man. "I have never seen her before."

The man sighed. "Okay, then. Suppose the boy is smitten." He tilted the screen further up but did not let go of the device. "The question is will he trade places with our girl."

"Should I find out?"

The man's head jerked back and he sprung to his feet and calmly went past Michael over to the wall and leaned against it, palms flat.  There was no movement for a moment - only the silence of thought.  Then the man clapped his hands and turned to to Michael. "My freedom may depend on a girl's wiles.  The possible simplicity of it all.  So very human." He said in a voice somewhere between disgust and humor.

"What do you wish me to do?"

"Have her take his breath away - break the boy down. When she is sure she's succeeded, you will kill Krim.  Bring him to my world. I need my freedom. Maybe losing her will be enough to surrender to me.  Let Gwen know I will let her live and she will keep the gifts I've already given her, in return. Now, go." He looked down at the sandy floor deep in thought.

"Yes, Father," Michael nodded and left.

Thank you for reading!!!

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