Brink by Mikel Parry
Chapter 2 - Love faileth

CH-LOVE FAILETH

A crowded street with narrow sidewalks moved like a pulsing river through the city center. Everyone appeared to be heading somewhere with purpose. They were all caught up in their own world, including Thomas. He floated around like a half-filled balloon. His movement was light and playful. He hadn’t felt this happy at any point in his overly complicated life. It came as a blessing that for once his mind agreed—it could only focus on one thing—his plans for the night. He was poised to sweep her off her feet. She wouldn’t know what hit her. His refined suave would wrap itself around her practically forcing her to beg for a higher commitment. But he would tease, tantalize, and then satiate. He wanted it to be memorable. Plunging into a local flower shop he drank it all in. He was going to do this.

I can’t believe it’s finally happening.

They had been together for years and been friends even longer. All of his greatest joys and failures had been shared with his kindred spirit of the opposite sex. She was his rock, his safe place. Despite his nervousness, he knew it was all going to work out. Looking around the flower shop, he was amazed at the sheer variety of plants present. He’d never seen so many shapes and sizes mixed with such vibrant colors. Perhaps the grey drab of the big city had finally made him colorblind. But there amongst it all was a particular pot of flowers that drew him in with its lingering scent. It looked to be a mixture of plants with some sort of tropical theme. The smell they put off was as sweet as nectar. Without thinking, he grabbed the pot, picked it up and sniffed.

That’s amazing. I didn’t know things could smell like that. How many smells are in this room? Why are the flowers all so distinctly colored?

“Can I help you, sir?”

Broken from his short-lived infatuation, he looked up. There he saw the thick brimmed glasses and curly hair of a woman giving him a very concerned look. He hadn’t realized it, but his face had plunged inside a wonderful bouquet, leaving a headless torso behind.

“I like these; what are they?”

The lady quickly adjusted her front-heavy glasses to focus in on the strange man.

“That would be the birds of paradise bouquet. It’s one of our best sellers.”

Smelling the exotic medley, he could no longer resist the impulse.

“I’ll take them. I especially enjoy all the stimulation these provide. Is there a reason that they do that? Why are there so many different colors?”

The woman opened her mouth but paused, after which she turned and began to walk away, muttering a few lines about how awkward it was.

“I’ll ring you up over there; if, of course, you’re done being stimulated.”

Thomas put on a pouty face. It was a legitimate question, wasn’t it? But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he had found the right flowers. Ringing them up at the cash register, he had them carefully wrapped then boxed. He needed to take care of his soon-to-be proposition. Nothing set the mood like a bouquet of tropical flora. As normally as he could he walked out onto the street where he began the walk to his apartment. He weaved his way through the dense evening crowds, practically tap dancing around them. He was still feeling a sense of euphoria running through him. So many things were complicated in his life, but this was so simple, so pure. He loved seeing her bright eyes, her radiant face. She made him feel whole again no matter how many pieces he had been shattered into during the day. This day was going to go down in history.

What’s this?

His honed mind suddenly faltered just for a moment. He had seen something interesting that had conjured up a magical wave of curiosity in him. It was a hat shop. Nothing was very special about that, except for one hat in particular. Its creased crown ran down towards a wide brim, an aged fedora. On its side was a bright red splotch stuck against the velvety black in deep contrast. The splotch was that of a tiny feather that had been carefully stuck into a belt-like wrap that went around the midriff of the bizarre hat. It sucked him in like a funnel. He couldn’t help but entertain the idea of buying it. Tommy Gun, the mobster, the gangster, the slick man every woman swooned for. His imagination was getting away from him. But he didn’t care. This was a time for indulging; he need not give heed to his prohibitions tonight. Stepping inside the shop he had to ask.

“Excuse me, how much is the hat?”

A man came out from somewhere in the back to see him. He was an older man whose skin looked dry and leathered. He wiped one of his hands over his balding head. It appeared he wasn’t sure what to say.

“That one, I didn’t even know we had that one. Let me take a look at it.”

Pulling it down from its rack, he perused its fine details. It was obvious that the hat had long been out of sight and out of mind. But the inner salesman was always ready to strike a deal.

“A hundred bucks, cash—it’s a nice hat.”

Thomas gave him a look of annoyance. His eyes narrowed in as he analyzed every obvious failing of the sentence.

“You can’t be serious. You didn’t even know you had this hat until a minute ago. Thing’s probably been up there for decades.”

The man shifted the hat around in his hands, puckering up his bottom lip, while letting his eyes wander.

“It’s a good hat, good material, handmade—I’ll go ninety-five, but that’s as low as I go.”

Instinctively Thomas reached into his pockets and pulled out his wallet. He fumbled through it as if pretending to count.

“I’ll go ninety because I don’t like the color. And let’s be honest; you think you’re ever going to sell that ugly thing?”

The man flicked the tiny red feather in the hat’s side. He closed one eye as if aiming a rifle.

“Ninety-three and it’s a deal.”

Thomas sighed before he pulled out his credit card. He didn’t have the time or energy to argue with the staunchly bantering shop owner.

“I said cash only on this; your hearing not so good?”

“You kidding me? What kind of a shop is this?”

Reluctantly, Thomas put down his flowers to begin sifting through his wallet for the cash. As he did, he also placed his credit card down, negligently in full view.

“You’re a real ball buster, you know that? I’m going to propose to my girlfriend tonight and this is how you want my night to start?”

The shop owner crossed his arms and shrugged.

“It’s a nice hat.”

Thomas rolled his eyes but bit his lashing tongue. It didn’t matter. He’d just consider it a sunk cost for the memories he’d be making. Pulling out a crisp one hundred dollar bill, he shoved it defiantly towards the shop owner.

“There’s a hundred—keep the change—looks like you need it.”

Seven dollars had bought him the much needed retaliation for the moment. He let out a rather impish smile before turning to pick his things up. Just as he did, a flash of hand snatched his exposed credit card and bolted. Instantly, the urge to chase came on, but was quickly pacified by his utter exhaustion. It was just a credit card; he’d call in and cancel it and move on in his life. It wasn’t worth the energy.

“Hey! That man just took your card!”

Thomas turned and shrugged.

“Good thing I’ve got more of them. I’ll just cancel it.”

The shop keeper looked disgusted with the show of apathy, but receded back into his dark lair somewhere behind the counter. Thomas gathered his things and left. He contacted his credit card company and canceled the card. The only true annoyance would be the time it would take to issue him another one. Why couldn’t people just live and let live? Here he had just haggled a stingy shop owner into give him what he’d wanted in the first place, only to get robbed. At least it was just a flimsy piece of plastic at this point. No need to feel discouraged there.

Where was I? Oh, yes . . .

Putting a slight skip in his step, he was again on his way. He had the flowers, the hat, and the ring. Well, at least he thought he did. Where had he put it? For all the detail about things he held in his brain with impeccable correctness, he often struggled to remember some of the most basic things. A traditional placement of a small, metal circle encrusted with shiny rocks. To be honest, it was quite boring. Fishing around in his suit pockets, he was relieved to replace it there. It was a gorgeous piece of romance that he’d spared no expense on. He wanted to blow her mind. It was well worth the hefty price, of that he was sure. Putting it carefully back, he went home.

Standing outside of his apartment, he took a couple of deep breaths. He knew she was inside, probably fixing up one of their routine dinners after a long day at work. She would no doubt have the urge to address every shallow-rooted issue of the day with him over a warm meal. Normally, he loved it when she would do so. She had a way with words, expressions, and unseen vibes that mesmerized him. It was like the world went quiet, finally making some real sense.

Okay, Tommy . . . Don’t screw this up.

Opening the door slowly, he did his best to quickly conceal the box of exotic flowers and the hat behind his back. He examined the house to replace everything in its place. And he knew this right down to the location of the remote to the television. In his mind, he could pick the room apart to such obscene levels of detail that it would drive a normal person mad. But to him it was normal. It was just how things were. Now, if he could only remember to refill the toilet paper or put the seat back down.

“Tommy, you’re home! Where in this cockroach infested city have you been? Dinner’s going to be cold.”

He knew where he had been and why. He also knew what day it was—leap day. The only day that happened only once every four years; years that were divisible by four. A day from the Gregorian calendar that was closely linked to the Julian calendar, introduced by none other than Julius Caesar in 45 BC. But to him it would be the special day he asked his one-and-only to be his wife, a day that would be forever changed throughout all time. Slowly he shut the door. His smile was now pressing into places he had never thought possible. He had never been so happy. He knew she had no idea. Being such a ridiculously good detective came with its perks. He had set things up meticulously to assure that the world immediately around her would divulge nothing.

“Just out and about, had a long day at the office . . .”

He gazed around the corner to see her in the kitchen rummaging through the open fridge.

“Didn’t we have a rutabaga? I swear we had a rutabaga in here. The recipe calls for one and I’m not seeing any. This fridge is like a graveyard of leftovers, Tommy. How many times have I told you to take your meal with you? Is this my eggplant parm right here? It is! I slaved over that one for hours!”

Thomas would normally slyly try to escape the conversation by voicing a couple of cleverly crafted, flattering nuances. But he had something better this time.

“Yeah, about all that . . . I feel just awful, you know. Maybe after dinner we could talk about it.”

Placing the items down on the couch he skulked his way into the kitchen. There he could finally see her. She had dressed down into her comfort zone. She had a stained, white apron draped around her shoulders. As she emerged from the fridge she gave him a rather peculiar look.

“You look happy. You see that dog with three legs again?”

He shook his head.

“No, he only comes around on Sundays at the park. But that’s not the point. I’m just really glad to see you today.”

Practically lunging across the kitchen, he picked her up and kissed her. He could smell her faded perfume of the day mixed with all of her natural essence. It was purely intoxicating. Her warm, soft lips immediately turned all of his testosterone-powered switches on.

“My, my, a man of law and order being so disorderly—there’s something up with you—I can tell.”

Thomas put her down gently. He gave her another long, passionate kiss before turning away.

“You’re looking way too deep into this. You need to relax.”

The comment immediately resulted in a soft oven mitten being smacked into the back of his head.

“Says the guy who incessantly harassed me about all the similarities you noticed between me and my mother down to the genetic level. Your hours of banter . . . the TV volume couldn’t go high enough!”

He smiled. It was true. He was very difficult to get along with at times. But for some reason she put up with it. Perhaps it was true that opposites attract? Whatever it was, it was working. Taking his place at the table, he watched as she brought in both of the artistically formed plates. Her attention to detail in certain areas was marvelous. But it was her lack thereof in other areas that also created a strange attraction that even he couldn’t understand.

“That looks amazing. I’ve never seen so much color on one plate.”

She smiled as she placed the steaming food in front of him.

“Well, I always like to try something new. And let’s be honest; I’m way too lazy to come up with all this stuff on my own. I nabbed this recipe off the internet.”

The two had in a wonderful dinner, easily falling back into their comfort zones. Each expressed their daily frustrations along with their minor triumphs. He was elated to tell her of the hoped for success of the case from he’d worked earlier. He then confessed that Vaun had changed his cologne at least three to four times in the past weeks. This made it obvious to Thomas that he was back into the dating scene and had finally broken up with his long-term girlfriend. It also explained Vaun’s more than sour mood as of late.

“So, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Jen looked up from her plate where she was finishing off the last few bites of her meal.

“Oh, do tell.”

“Not here—in the other room. I think you’ll really like it.”

Intrigued by the proposition, she nodded subtly.

“A man of mystery . . . or . . . have I been naughty? I think I like where this is going.”

Thomas wiped his mouth and then grabbed an unused napkin.

“Put this around your eyes. I want some suspense for this.”

Jen obliged by putting it around her head and tying it loosely in the back.

“A blindfold, surprise, suspense—oh, Tommy, you’re going all out—and it’s just a weekday!”

He was smiling both inside and out. He could no longer contain all the joy that was overflowing his emotional cup. It manifested as completely giddy, school boy behavior. As he escorted her into the other room, he allowed his fingers to wander down the small of her back. The tender touch of affection was well received as Jen was practically purring in delight. Once arriving at a spot that seemed adequate, he continued with his romantic gesture.

“Stay right there and don’t peek! I want to see the look on your face; I want to remember this perfectly.”

“Tommy, you remember almost everything perfectly. Stop toying with me; the suspense is killing me!”

Quickly, he seized the flowers and took them out of the box. He then carefully placed the hat on top of his head. It fit surprisingly well. He put on his most devilish charm. His eyes gleamed with delight. He struggled to replace the right pose. He tried on a few before he realized that he was making a fool of himself.

“Tommy!”

“Alright, alright, you can take the blindfold off.”

In the blink of an eye, the slender piece of cloth flew through the air. Once it was out of the way. her eyes widened into two emotional beach balls. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing; a large exotic bouquet of flowers being presented by a man in a silly, yet charming, hat. There was something about it that she adored deeply.

“Tommy, I don’t know what to say? You did this for me?”

Thomas nodded. He approached her slowly, keeping his eyes locked deeply on hers. His love for her was growing with every beat of his heart. The tiny ring in his pocket now felt like a large brick. Was now the right time to ask? This was the part he had so feared. His timing when dealing with normal things was usually off. But he desperately wanted to get this right. Once again, he swept in on her and kissed her. He wrapped his hands around her back, clutching the flowers tightly. He held her with every molecule of energy that his soul could muster. He never wanted to let her go. He could have remained in this state of mind for an eternity. Could life get any better than a moment of heaven laboriously created by fate’s sweet graces? He didn’t think it could, but was willing to replace out. Stepping back, he took a deep breath.

“Baby, there’s something I want to ask you. I’m afraid if I don’t do it now I might not get the chance.”

Tears formed in Jen’s eyes. It was beginning to hit her. She had been caught completely off guard. Her lips trembled in anticipation. Dropping down to one knee, he did his best to reproduce all of the cinematic formalities that he had seen throughout his life. He imagined himself as the knight in shining armor finally coming home after slaying the dragon. With fervent eyes of desire, he mustered up the will to ask the most important question of his life—four simple words that would begin a lifetime of beautiful complications. He carefully pulled the ring from his pocket.

“Jen . . . will you marry me?”

Jen practically collapsed to the floor. Her shaky knees wobbled back and forth like two rubbery noodles. But with a flash of movement she threw herself at him. She jumped on top of him, letting the flowers burst apart. The petals fell like a colorful rain on their bodies.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes! I thought you’d never ask, Thomas Ghune!”

They grabbed each other in a warm embrace. They clumsily knocked over some of the furniture as they rolled around releasing all the built up tension and suspense. Thomas struggled to get the ring on the finger of the probing hand of Jena. But as he did, she paused, letting the brilliant sparkle of the diamonds illuminate her eyes. Her heart had grown tenfold. Her love for him was now perfectly sealed in a meaningful verse of their love song that she would sing silently in her heart forever. Her little piece of heaven had arrived and she was gorging on it.

“Should I take the hat off?” questioned Thomas.

Jen smiled a deep, warm smile.

“No, I love it. I want to remember you like this forever—my suave detective, my lover and soon-to-be husband—don’t you dare take it off!

She glanced over towards the discarded napkin sitting a few footsteps away.

“Should I get the blindfold?”

Thomas put on a mischievous smile before affectionately placing another round of kisses on her inviting lips. He started to respond when there was a knock at the door.

“Expecting someone?”

Thomas shook his head. He had made sure no one would bother them; not tonight.

“No, let’s leave it be. They’ll probably just go away.”

They resumed their romantic tango when suddenly the pounding at the door resumed.

“Are you kidding me? Can’t this idiot take a hint?” scowled Jen.

Thomas let out an incredibly long sigh of frustration. Why was life always like this? Why couldn’t it be more fairytale? Why did it have to be so real?

“I’ll tell whoever it is to go away. You hang tight—and get that blindfold.”

Jen forced a smile, but it was apparent that she was disturbed by the aggravating interruption. Thomas got up, showing signs of his obvious anger as well. He was poised to let whoever it was at the door have it. Walking quickly, he swung the door wide open.

“Look, buddy, can’t you take a hint? Is it really so important that you just couldn’t wait?”

The man at the door looked vaguely familiar. His slender body was covered in scars and track marks. His dark, beady eyes shook wildly about. He wore a long trench coat with a hat that covered most of his features. It didn’t take long to realize the obvious. But it was too late. In the man’s shaky hand was a pistol. It was aimed directly at Thomas’ chest.

“I believe that it can’t wait.”

Jen shot up instantly and began to shriek. The man put his other finger up to his mouth as he worked his way in the door, shutting it behind him.

“Keep it down or I blast Romeo away!”

Putting her hands over her mouth she muffled her cries of terror. Tears poured out of her eyes and streamed down her delicate face.

“Whoa, buddy, let’s just be calm here, alright? What do you want? You’ve got to want something, so what is it? You need money? Here—take my wallet.”

Thomas removed his wallet and plopped it on the floor in front of the man. But the man paid no attention to it. Instead, he was locked onto the unnerved Jen. He was searching her over for something.

“I don’t need your damn wallet. I already swiped your card, or don’t you remember? How do you think I found your place, idiot?”

Then it hit him. In a love stupor, he had been careless and dumb. The scene at the hat shop came back in full view. The credit card had been carelessly left in the open. His intentions for the night obviously placed on full display. The man had followed his electronic trail back to his home address. How had he been so stupid? It was completely obvious to him now what the target was.

“Look just take it, it’s just a ring.”

The man’s body shook violently as if he was losing control. The effects of his vice were clouding his judgment, inhibiting his mind.

“You get it. I want to see your hands the whole time! You bring it to me!”

Thomas nodded and did as he was told. Approaching Jen, he put his hand out.

“Give me the ring baby . . . everything’s going to be alright.”

Jen was coming apart. She could barely muster the courage to move. But Thomas’ reassuring voice powered her forward. Wriggling the ring off of her finger, she dropped it into Thomas’ outreached hand. Calmly, he turned back towards the maniac hovering near the door.

“Here—I’ve got it—I’m going to bring it to you, alright? Just relax; nothing’s going to happen.”

Thomas cautiously stepped towards the man one nerve-racking step at a time. His heart was doing somersaults as he got closer, but he was doing his best to remain at ease. It was clear that the man was strung out; more than likely, high out of his mind. The last thing he needed to do was to give him a reason to react harshly.

“Hands where I can see them!”

“They are, buddy, don’t worry. I just don’t want to drop the ring, is all.”

The man’s face twitched as his nerves continued to fray.

“I can’t see them, I’ll shoot!”

Thomas instantly opened the hand that was holding on to the ring. As he did, it fell to the ground, rumbling round and round to a stop. The sudden movement propelled the man up a notch in his insanity.

“You threw it! You were going to throw it at me!”

“It just fell; relax. I’ll pick it up. It’s no big deal.”

The muffled cries from Jena penetrated Thomas’ heart. He wanted to soothe her, be next to her, holding her. But because of the psycho he’d led to their home, he couldn’t. He was stuck in a subservient game of hostage.

“It’s right here, see? It just fell down . . . no big deal.”

Thomas crouched down and gently began to pick up the ring. Just as he did, something shifted in his pocket and with a clang his badge hit the floor. It rattled around on the ground before coming to a stop, face up.

“What’s that? You a cop or something? You didn’t tell me you were a cop!”

“Look—I’m not really a cop—I’m something different. Its fine, I’ll let you walk out of here. Let’s not do anything crazy.”

“I’m never going back! You hear me! Never! You can’t make me go back!”

It all happened so fast. The man raised the gun and pointed it directly at Thomas’ chest. As he tried to aim his shaking hand dipped and bobbed the gun around in all directions. Then, a fiery, soul-piercing, blast muted everything except the mind-numbing scream from Jena. The smell of the fired round filled the room with its horrific odor.

“NO!”

Thomas screamed at the top of his lungs. He awaited the sharp, intense pain that would accompany his mortal wound. But nothing came. He watched helplessly as the man grabbed the shiny ring and ran, leaving him alone and confused. Running his hand down his body, he was miraculously unscathed. But this brought forward a harrowing detail that was now becoming more and more pronounced—Jena. She was silent. Her painful whimpers and cries had vanished. His mind was a torrential storm of all the data around him. Everything was blasting into his conscious like a fiery maelstrom conjured out of the very depths of hell.

“Jena! NO!!!”

Turning around, his convictions solidified. The love of his life lay motionless on the floor. Immediately, he collapsed to her side and began searching for the wound. He found it, just a few inches below her left breast. A crimson river of life-giving essence was spilling out of her onto the floor. He watched as it ran over his helpless hand which was desperately trying to seal the wound. He was now begging for her life. His pleas for help echoed in the room. He sobbed uncontrollably. His heart was being torn apart, every piece of his soul bursting free in unbearable pain.

“Please, baby, not now! Please, baby, get back up!”

He felt himself falling into a pit of despair with no hope of ever getting back out. He had lost the only true thing in his life. She had been taken from him. Her still, lifeless body was a testament to the vile act. On the night that they were supposed to begin their lives together, their bond had been ripped apart. Letting out a guttural, inhuman scream of anguish, he collapsed to the floor next to her. His mind had fallen apart; his physical and emotional selves had been overwhelmed.