Watch What You Digest

Liam walked on a beautiful, sunny day that does not come often where he lived. Most days when he is not working, Liam sits in his favorite recliner and reads one of his hardcover books. He admitted to the few he talked to that he preferred to work his mind, not his body. Today was one of the few days he chose the body. A tough choice for the book he was reading was becoming quite suspenseful as the detective was getting closer to finding the killer.

         As he walked, Liam figured that if he sat at home reading, he would be at the point in the book where the protagonist would meet the antagonist. Many pages after the meeting, the hero does not extinguish the villain immediately. Once Liam returned home, he would find out what happened, so he picked up the pace.

         There were few on the path as he walked on. Liam did not look at people he passed, not wanting any connection with them. Liam was a loner and wanted to keep it that way. His earlier life did not go well with his fellow humanity. He figured he would move to an island one day and hopefully only see people once or twice a year.

         Liam continued, coming up to the curve that he would do a one-eighty and soon heading back toward his pad, where he could return to what he liked best.

         He was not far into the curve when he saw a figure coming. At first, he figured he would look straight ahead like all the others he passed, but his instinct told him to look. It was a glance seeing a man wearing a thick brown jacket, which he found odd for such a warm day. Then up to the face before looking away. Then he looked again at the stranger’s face. Long, brown hair with streaks of white down to his shoulders. Dull blue eyes, a pointy nose, thin lips, and a weak chin. Liam looked away again and his mind started flipping through the faces he had met because this one was familiar. But the entire time he went through the catalog of faces in his mind feeling that this face was not one he wanted to remember. He had seen that face before. Where?

         Liam hurried home, thinking of who this stranger could be. There have been times he had seen people he had known, either ignoring them or giving them a nod and moving on. A couple of them he had seen before, but could not recollect where, and honestly, he could care less. But for this stranger, he needed to know where he had seen him before.

         “Why?” he pondered. Maybe because it was recently that he saw such a face. “But who cares when I saw the face?”

         But why did it bother him at this magnitude?

         When Liam entered his studio apartment, he made a light lunch, ate the bathroom break, plopped himself into his recliner, and grabbed his book.

         “Time to find out what happens,” he said turning to the page he had marked with a bookmark.

         Liam read the first page, then the second page. Then he stopped.

         “I’m not taking in anything I’m reading,” he said in frustration.

         The entire time he read the face of the stranger came to his mind. It completely wiped out any mental picture of what he just read.

         “What the hell is going on?!” he yelled in frustration, then immediately admonished himself. The last thing he needed was a concerned neighbor to knock on his door.

         Liam slammed the book closed and was about to recline back and close his eyes to see if that would remedy his situation. But before he could even implement his plan, he glanced at the cover of his book and, in a shocked reflex, dropped the book onto the floor. He sat there, trying to wrap his mind around what he saw.

         “Not possible,” he said as he reached down and picked up the book.

         Once again, he looked at the cover and saw the stranger’s face. The face of the character in the book is the killer.

         Even though the picture on the cover was a drawing, it was the stranger’s face he saw as he walked by him.

         “They must have asked him if they could use his face,” said Liam. “It happens.” Or does it?

         One question is whether this author lived on the other side of the country when the cover was done.

         “Maybe the stranger just moved here.”

         Liam sat there, trying to rationalize the dilemma until he raised his hands. “Who cares!”

         Moments later, there was knocking on the door.

         “Everything okay in there?” a male voice asked.

         “Yeah,” he replied.

         “I am concerned by your yelling and banging.”

         Liam got out of his recliner and headed toward the door. He already pictured opening the door, telling the man he was okay, and closing the door—all done in less than five seconds.

         “Leave me alone.”

         Liam opened the door, and time stopped. For what seemed like minutes, he stared at the menacing face of the stranger.

         “This man is a killer,” he thought.

         Before Liam could twitch a finger, the stranger had a knife to his throat and pushed him back until he landed in his recliner. The stranger had slammed the door with his foot and now his face was inches from Liam’s. Liam could swear the man’s pupils were red.

         “Why were you looking at me as I took a walk for some fresh air after a kill?” the man asked with a growl. Liam was expecting a forked tongue to flick out to tickle his cheek.

         “I…I…wasn’t staring,” stammered Liam as the knife dug a little deeper, bringing forth blood.

         “You know who I am?” the stranger asked as he opened his mouth wide, showing off his fangs. “I will literarily tear your nose off if you lie. Let you live in agony for a time before I slit your throat.”

         Liam gulped, which was not a smart move as the blade went deeper. He could not say a word but pointed down at the floor where the book lay. The stranger saw the movement and looked down.

         “Well, well,” he said as he stepped back to look at the book better. “Looks like I’m famous.” A grin that stretched from ear to ear appeared.

         “This man is not human,” Liam thought.

         “The famous killer on the cover of a book!” the stranger cried out, raising his arms, and laughing like a hyena.

         The front door burst open. The stranger swirled around as a man wearing a cowboy hat and an eye patch over his left eye entered, pointing a forty-four magnum at the stranger.

         “Ten seconds of fame,” the man said to the stranger.

         The killer let out a deep growl and took a step forward. Before he took his second, there was a boom, and a bullet drilled into his forehead and blasted out the back, spraying blood all over Liam. Liam cried out as he tried to take in everything going on. He wiped away the blood and brain matter from his face and then looked at his savior, who looked at him with a grin.

         “I would make better choices on what you read,” he said. “If not, it might come back to haunt you.”

         The man turned around and left. Liam stared at the departing man and then at the body on the floor. He fainted.

         Liam opened his eyes and sat up in his recliner. He looked all around him. His front door closed. The killer was not lying on his carpet. No blood staining his rug. Just the book he had been reading by his foot. Liam kicked the book across the room.

         “No way in hell am I going to finish that book.”