More Than A Feeling

MORE THAN A FEELING

It was a usual work day for Amber, and her alarm went off at seven, as usual. But what wasn’t usual was the fact that she was already awake, and had been hours. Instead of waking up as usual, she was staring up at the ceiling, wide-eyed, trying to remember the nightmare.

The nightmare that had caused her to come fully awake, gasping for air, sitting bolt up in bed, hands clutching at her racing heart.  She knew that it had been a truly horrific nightmare, but she couldn’t remember a single thing about it, just that it had terrified her to her core. Once she had managed to calm her beating heart, she had lain back down on her mattress. But sleep would not come. Instead, she had stared at the ceiling, trying to remember what had frightened her so completely, and left the feeling of terror in the pit of her stomach.

*****

Forty-five minutes after the alarm went off, Amber left her house, and headed for the bus that would take her to the subway.  When she saw the bus approaching her stop, her heart started to beat faster. Had her nightmare involved busses? She had no idea. Whatever it had been about, her subconscious was doing a bang-up job trying to warn her of some impending doom.

Mask in place, she swiped her pass, and said good morning to the driver, like she did every morning. Give or take a few, the same people populated the bus every morning. This morning was no different. Amber walked toward the back of the bus, and took a single seat across from the rear doors. She always chose a seat closest to the rear doors — it was the fastest way to get off the bus and down to the subway.  

As the bus continued on its route to the subway, Amber felt that she was being watched. She knew she was being watched — all the busses in the transit system were outfitted with CCTV. But this was different. She could feel eyes drilling into the back of her head. She turned and quickly scanned the back of the bus — nothing. No one was looking back at her. Most people were involved with their devices, and a few — a very small number — were reading actual newspapers. Some were nodding off to the swaying motion of the bus. And some just looked out the window, earbuds alerting anyone that they were listening — music, a podcast, or a book, Amber guessed. But the earbuds sent a definite message. They said, “Don’t bother me. I don’t look like I’m doing anything, but I’m busy, so don’t try to talk to me.”  

Her eyes swept the back of the bus again. There was someone looking at her — a man in last seat against the wall at the very back of the bus. He was hard to describe. How old? She had no idea. He had a black brimmed hat — a fedora, she thought — which shaded his eyes. She thought they were dark, almost black, but that could be the shadow from the brim of his hat. Because he was sitting down, she didn’t know how tall he was. All she could see was a black coat, but she didn’t know if it was long or short. And she really couldn’t see his face, because of the mask he wore, also black. But she could see that he was looking at her intently. He didn’t break his gaze when Amber met his eyes. Amber’s let her eyes skitter past him without holding his gaze.

That was hella creepy, she thought.  

When the bus arrived at the subway station, Amber made sure she was the first person off the bus, and hustled down the stairs to the underground trains. As luck would have it, the westbound subway train was in the station, and she was just able to step in before the doors closed and the train headed west. As it pulled out of the station, Amber scanned at the platform whizzing by. And there was the man in the fedora, staring at her.  First the dream, then this creepy fedora guy. She shivered, totally creeped out.

By the time she arrived at work, she had managed to shake off some of her unease, but it still niggled in her gut, like a warning that something bad was going to happen. It had been an inauspicious start to her day.

The office was just a short walk from the subway station, so she arrived quickly. Amber looked around. No sign of the creepy fedora guy — not that she expected she would see him. She had, after all, left him standing on the subway platform.

Amber was a lawyer. She was a partner in a small firm, started by her and her roommate from law school, Eva. They both practiced general law, and Amber had specialties in Estate Law, with a side of Family Law. Eva specialized in Environmental Law and Labour Law. They were very good lawyers, and word had spread, and now after only five years they had more than enough work to keep them busy, and were considering taking on another partner.

Their small store-front office was just big enough for their practice. It was situated on a fairly major street — major enough to rate a subway stop — in the west end of the city, in an older, more established, residential neighbourhood.

She opened the door, and the small bell over the door tinkled.  Eva, her partner was just taking off her coat.  

“Morning, Sunshine,” she said smiling at Amber.  

“Hey,” replied Amber, taking off her mask.

Eva walked towards Amber, the smile disappearing from her face.

“Amber, what’s the matter? You look like, well … you know I love, right?” She stopped to look closely at Amber’s face. “But, you look like hell, girlfriend. What’s wrong?”

Amber looked at Eva’s open and guileless face, and sank down in their paralegal-slash-receptionist, Edwin’s, chair. She rubbed her face, and started to tell Eva about the creepy turn her life had taken.

“Last night, I had a disturbing dream — a nightmare really — but I can’t remember anything about it. I only know that I have a gut feeling that something horrible is going to happen. I’ve been awake since about three this morning. And there’s creepy fedora guy.”

She told Eva about the trepidation she had felt about the arriving the bus, and about how she felt she was being watched. How when she had turned around, and had caught a stranger watching her intently.

“Wow!” said Eva. “I don’t know what to say. Are you sure you want to be here today? Why don’t you take a mental health day?”

“Nah. I’ll be fine,” she said smiling weakly at Eva.

She stood up slowly, hung up her coat, and walked into her office, anxious to start her day. Edwin kept track of both women’s schedules, sending them electronically to their phones, and printing off a paper copy so they had immediate access. Today was pretty open — a Zoom call with a client about a will at 10:00 am, and another at noon.  The first client was an elderly man who wanted to change his will. He had recently remarried, and he wanted to update his will to include his new wife. The fact that the new wife was forty years younger than the client was a bit of a concern, but as long as he was compos mentis, there nothing Amber had to do other than update the will. Besides, he wasn’t removing his kids from the will, just making sure that the new wife would be taken care of in the event of his death. The second call was easier — a young couple wanted to draw up their will now that they were married and had a child on the way. Amber liked clients who were proactive. This couple was young and healthy, but they didn’t want to take any chances — better safe than sorry had been their motto. Amber agreed wholeheartedly.

As well, she had to prepare for a case conference pertaining to a case where the wife, her client, was filing for divorce, as well as petitioning for sole custody of the children based on the abusive conduct of the husband, who had assault charges pending. The case conference wasn’t until Wednesday, two days from now, but Amber was efficient, and preferred not to be rushed. Edwin has filed the documents pertaining to the case with the court, and had copied the husband’s lawyer, so she only had to review the documents and set her strategy.

After the two zoom calls, Amber, Eva, and Edwin had food delivered, and had a working lunch, updating the long-forecast calendar with court dates and other actionable items that were time-sensitive.  It took a little over an hour, and once they were finished, Amber returned to her office. She shut her door because Eva was seeing clients pertaining to a class-action suit she was filing, and there would be people coming and going all afternoon.  She was exhausted. She put her head down on her desk, just for a minute …

She threw her heat back and started violently awake, her heart pounding. She had just had the same bad dream, again. But this time she could remember something. There had been two bright lights, and they brought fear to her soul. What did it mean? She had no idea. She sat in her chair, her hands clutching the edge of her desk, sweat beading her forehead.

Eva threw open the door to Amber’s office, and rushed in.

“Are you alright?” she said, scanning the office. “You screamed!”

“ I did? I’m sorry. I fell asleep. I had the nightmare again.”

“Oh, Sweetie, are you okay?”

“I will be.” She smiled weakly. But she wasn’t sure she believed her own words.

*****

By the end of the day, Amber was exhausted. She considered taking an Uber home, but opted, instead to take transit. During rush hour transit would be faster — there was no gridlock underground. She walked to the subway, and descended to the track level. Again she had that gut feeling that someone was watching her. 

Keep it together, Amber, she said to herself. Don’t let your imagination get the better of you.

She waited for the train by the wall. It pulled into the station a few minutes later. As she got on the train, fighting the rush hour crowds, she scanned the faces of the people around her. There were no creepy, fedora-wearing mystery men anywhere, much to Amber’s relief. No one paid particular attention to her, their eyes sliding over her, the way hers would normally slide over them. She sighed in relief.

The subway ride and the subsequent bus ride home were uneventful.  But still, Amber had that feeling in her gut that someone was watching her. It was only a short walk home, and she made it home quickly. Once she got home she shut and locked the front door to her town house. She had a fairly robust security system, and she had been monitoring the cameras all day, and no one had tried to enter her home.

There was a knock on her door, and Amber jumped.

She checked the cameras on her phone, and saw her neighbour Marie Rowe. Marie and her husband Charlie had lived in the townhome next to Amber for over twenty years. When Amber had purchased her home three years ago, and they had more-or-less adopted her, always looking out for her well-being.  Amber appreciated their generosity of spirit. She was glad they were her neighbours.

She opened the front door.  

“Hi Marie. How are you?”

“Not too bad for an old cougar,” was her reply. Marie was six months older than her husband Charlie, and always referred to herself as a cougar.

“You’re not that old, but I’m glad everything’s going well.” Amber offered her friend a smile.  

Marie took a closer look at her. “And how are you?” she asked. “You look a little tired.”

Amber smiled. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m just a bit wrung out.”

“I’ve got some Ambien if you need a little help getting to sleep.”

“You are too good to me, Marie. But I’m fine.” She smiled again. “Would you like to come in?”

“No, Sweetie, but thanks. Charlie and I are going out to get something to eat. There’s this restaurant that has these little inflated igloos for dining. They’re heated, and see-through, with solid ventilation and HEPA filters. There’s only your table in each igloo.  Perfect for social distancing. We have the first seating, so we need to get a move on.”  She nodded at Charlie waiting at the curb in their SUV.  “I just wanted to tell you that there was a man lurking around today. He was just standing in the park, looking at your house. Charlie went out to talk to him, but he took off before he made it across the street. We thought about calling the police, but he was long gone, so what good would it have done?” She pointed across the street to the little parkette that ran down the middle of the street. “He just stood there, watching.”

Amber looked across the street. It was dark now, and there was nothing to see.

“What did he look like?” she asked.

“Hard to tell. He had on a long black coat, and a wide brimmed hat that made it hard to see his face.”

Amber looked back at her neighbour. “Thanks, Rose. You’re always looking out for me.”

“Well, I’ve got to fly. If you change your mind about the Ambien, we should be home before eight. And make sure you lock your doors. We’ll keep a look-out, and if we see anyone hanging around, we’ll call the cops.” She turned and walked out to the street, where Charlie waited in the car, waving over her shoulder as she walked away.

Amber went back into her home, and locked the front door. In fact, she walked around the entire house checking all the doors and windows, making sure that she was locked in, good and tight. Then she engaged the security system, something she normally didn’t do while she was at awake. 

*****

Again she woke up, heart pounding. It was the same nightmare. She’d had the damn nightmare again. She looked at her alarm clock — 3:14 — the devil’s hour. Amber felt sick. She wasn’t sure she could take this — every time she fell asleep, the nightmare invaded her sleep. She wracked her brain trying to remember what had her startled her awake … that’s right — she had been falling. It had been extremely scary, the sense of falling. What was that old belief about falling in a dream? If you hit the bottom, you died in your sleep? Amber shivered, knowing that it was another lost night of sleep.

*****

Before she left her house in morning, Amber scanned the parkette. Other than the man from down the street walking his Corgi, it looked empty. She stepped out, set the alarm, and started towards the bus stop. Same bus, same people, and thankfully, no creepy fedora guy — a good start to her day. As Amber waited for the subway (she had just missed one), a man moved quickly towards her. It wasn’t creepy fedora guy. This man didn’t wear a hat, and looked vaguely familiar. He was also obviously angry.

“Hey, Lawyer!” he said, marching up to her. “Stay the fuck away from my wife! Leave her and my kids alone, or else!” he screamed. People turned to stare.

Amber looked at him. Of course. He was the husband of Janelle Sparks, her divorce/custody client. She started moving away from him.

“Mr. Sparks, you can’t talk to me directly. If you have anything to say, tell your lawyer, and he’ll relay it to me.”

He caught up to her, and leaned into her face. “I don’t give a shit about lawyers! I want you to stop polluting my wife’s brain with this divorce horseshit. She is my wife, and we belong together!” He started poking Amber in the chest, forcing her backwards. “You stay the fuck away from my wife.” 

Amber swatted his hand away. “Don’t you touch me!”

“I will do whatever I want to you!” Then he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her over the edge of the platform, onto the tracks. She felt herself falling. She landed hard on her back. Amber could see the two lights on the front of the train in the tunnel, speeding towards her.

Suddenly, the man in the fedora jumped down onto the track with her, grabbed her, and hoisted her up. Other passengers grabbed her hands, and pulled her onto the platform. Then the man vaulted up, effortlessly.

He leaned in close to speak to her. “You’re okay,” he said. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. The train screamed into the station.

“Thank you. You saved me,” she said, the knot of dread leaving her gut.

“Think of me as your guardian angel.” And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, not looking back.