Micah Jennings

1.21.05 Friday [step ahead]

I got to his house half and hour before I knew he’d be home, plopping myself into his mysterious recliner. It was more comfortable than I’d imagined and as I waited my eyelids began to feel heavy, and soon I fell asleep.

An hour went by before I finally woke up, urged awake by the drone of a newscaster from the other room. It was from the television. Realizing my carelessness I shot to my feet and again headed for the window, but this time it was locked. I reached for it, but a voice stopped me.

“Fallin asleep in another man’s chair…yew just rackin up the crimes, ‘aint ya?” Said the judge from behind the kitchen counter, pouring himself a tall glass of beer.
“You drink?” He asked.
“No. I’m only eighteen,” I said.
“Oh, right. Yew seem like the law-abidin’ type.”
“What do you want with me?” I demanded.
“Boy, you broke into ma home. Twice, now. Seems that if anyone is owed an explanation, it oughta be ME. So why don’t you tell me why YO here.”
“You said…you wanted to talk.”
“Yew ‘aint gotta bust into a man’s house to talk to him, yew know. They got these te-le-phones now.”
“Yeah, well…call me then,” I said angrily, returning to the window.
“But since yo here,” he called after me, “we might as well do some talkin. Hungry?”

I shook my head but he warmed up a TV dinner anyway, peeling the gossamer film away and handing me a plastic fork. A few minutes passed as we ate without speaking, staring inattentively at the flickering screen in the room.

“Tell me,” he said, “when did you embark on yo…’life of crime’?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. At that he threw down his fork and looked at me belligerently.
“Do yew think I was born this mornin’? Yew seriously think that yo the first to do this—go through all this trouble to get yo revenge? Well you aint!”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Could it possibly be the truth?
“You mean…there were others?”
“Others that made it this far? No. But I watched several make an attempt. Got pretty close, but that window is a doosie. You’ve got some skill in breakin in. That’s why I ask when yo criminal life began, cause I clearly aint yo first.”
I couldn’t keep the hints of a smile from leaking onto my face. This man was truly intelligent, and he’d been a step ahead of me each time. Amazing.
“But how did you know I’d strike when I did? There are so many variables in all this…”
“I lucked out. Member, I almos hit ya in the parking deck that day. Knew yo face instantly. Figured it would be a few days for yew to nab me. I was right.”
“But you didn’t have me arrested.”
“Thought about it, but it wouldn’t do either of us any good. You’d just be more pissed when you got out and come looking again, and I’d be in bigger danger.”
“You let me get away.”
“Yup. You sure you don’t want a drink?”
I shook my head.
“But you still haven’t answered my question,” I said.
”Whas that?”
“Why go through all this trouble? Why put yourself at risk? What did you want me for?”
He took a deep breath and leaned against the sofa, gazing at the ceiling.
“Those questions will wait for another day, I’m afraid.”
“Okay,” I said, suddenly feeling a glimmer of admiration for the man.
“Tomorrow, same place and time?” Reginald asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” he said as I headed for the window. “My front door. I keep it unlocked.”

-M.J.

posted by Mr. Linty @ 11:23 PM