Mysterious Man, So Familiar

Mysterious Man, So Familiar

Time. Such an odd little construct. I have rarely bored myself with the intricacies of the worlds that I visit. Moments, rapid blasts really. I pop into a world, wreak havoc and leave. No need to learn or understand the beings of which I meet. 

Until today. Until this world. Dropped into this place, no information or understanding of where I am. With just a mission at hand. Although this time the mission is unknown. No meet and greets needed. Until today. Until humans. And humanity. And time. And a sudden overwhelming feeling that I have been here before.

Twenty Hours Earlier

“Bialko, we have a new mission for you,” the leader says. I knew this the moment I opened my door. The only time I see or hear from anyone is when there is a mission for me. A lonely existence of which I am most grateful for. 

“And is the mission the same?” I ask, already knowing the answer will be yes.

“Not this time. The next world is large. For this you will need all of your devices. You will descend upon the land. And leave or not. You must decide quickly for time there is unlike here. It moves fast. If you falter, you will be lost to our world forever.”

“Where will I be going?” I ask. Another simple question that I know the answer to.

“No need to know,” the leader says. “Only know that I have handpicked this mission for you. I feel there is a need for you and only you to complete it. A feeling I have. Hopefully, I have chosen correctly.”

And I sigh. I  have had 4,356 missions from this leader. Always the same - set about destruction and leave. Never knowing where I am or what things I am destroying. And I have been content with this small life. Until today. Until I woke up and had an unnatural feeling come over me. Something is off. I hope the day brings me peace for this uneasiness has haunted me.

“Am I to use the devices for destroying?” I ask quickly.

“I am unsure at the moment what you will be doing. Just that you must go. And if you do not return, then that was the way.”

His answer did not calm my nerves. Something feels wrong with this mission.

Fifteen Hours Earlier on Earth

“Mom, where are you?” Layla yells into the quiet home.

“Upstairs,” mom responds.

Layla takes two stairs at a time, excitement brewing. “Mom, guess what?” she yells.

“You won the lottery and bought a house,” Marie jokes to her daughter.

“I’m seventeen. I can't even play the lotto.”

“Damn, I knew my guess would be wrong. Ok I'm out, what’s so great?”

“I got in. I got into Juilliard. Early admission and everything. I know we had talked about other schools, but I GOT IN! I have to go. I just do.” Layla says, bouncing from foot to foot nervously.

“Right, Juilliard. Your dream school. I guess we will make it work. I know daddy would be so proud of you if he could see you. I mean I am sure he is watching over you right now.” Marie sighs. A tear trickled down her cheek thinking about her husband. He was a great man, hardworking and strong. A drunk driver took him away too soon. If only she could have just five more minutes with him, laughing and joking. He always made the room brighter.

“So then I can go right?” Layla asks.

“I suppose so.”

10 Hours Earlier

I hear sounds as soon as I descend on this land. Strange. Usually I am dropped in a deserted field, far from the things of said world. This land seems wrong. It feels different, as though an accident has been made. Although that is impossible. Leader does not make mistakes. He is not programmed for that.

I look down at the ground and quickly realize something is amiss. I am in a strange form, with appendages sticking out of me. I have never arrived at a land in a different form. I have never arrived in any form. More of a gaseous image that is able to move certain devices. This is wrong. This is why I felt unusual earlier. My Leader has sent me to this land without any warning. I feel I have been wronged in this mission.

And then I hear it. A small tick. Tiny at first, then the sound seems to grow. Tick-tock-tick-tock. What is the horrible noise and where is it coming from? I look around at the area I am in. Realizing I have four walls surrounding me. I definitely have not been dropped in the correct location. Unless. Unless I am being punished. Punished for something which I do not understand.

Tick tock. The noise is unnerving. I look all around, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Home is bright. Sunlight always. This room is dark, almost pitch black except for the small shimmer of light flickering under a nearby door. I scan the room. Looking for the conductor of the noise. It is so loud. Then I look down at my own being. A body, unusual. And on my wrist a small black band. With numbers. A countdown of some sort. It reads 00:00:12, with the last number decreasing quickly. Time. The elusive time. And it is ticking away. 

I reach for the band. Try to pull it. Slide it. Make it move. It was stuck. Stuck on my being and ticking away. I reach up to my ears and try to muffle out the sound. Pulling and tugging at them. The noise seems to get louder. I grunt and grab for the band one more time. I tug hard and fall backwards. The back of my head hits the wall behind me and I topple down to the ground. Total darkness and silence. Peace.

************

“What the hell? Did you hear that?” Marie asks her daughter.

“Yea it sounded like a dead body being tossed in our hallway.”

Marie turns and looks at her daughter. “Well that was dark. What in the world would make you think of a dead body?”

“Podcast about unsolved murders. Wouldn’t our apartment complex be the perfect place to dump a body?”

Marie turns away from her child. “Lord help me with this girl,” she laughs, peeking out the peephole on her door. “Well I’ll be damned. You may be right. There is a guy in our hallway, who looks dead.”

“No shit. I might be able to start my own podcast if we find a dead body.”

“Nope, he’s breathing. No podcast for you. Quick grab my phone. I’m going to go out to see if he is ok.”

“What if this is a ploy and he’s going to rob us?”

“Layla, give me my phone and just lock the door when I go out, just in case.”

Marie opens the door, holding her phone above her head as if it were a weapon. The man was alive at least-she could see his deep breaths. He may have even been snoring. She quietly tiptoes near him and gently kicks his shoe. “Yoo-hoo, sir are you ok? Do you need an ambulance?” She asks.

His body jerks. Eyes fluttering. He appears groggy as his eyes connect to hers. Gray. Beautiful. In fact now that she has time to look, she notices the chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. With the long eyelashes and smokey eyes. Muscular build. He could have been pulled from a Versace ad. Handsome. Too handsome to be wandering this apartment building. And slightly familiar.

He coughs. And coughs again. Struggling to make sounds from his throat. After a few seconds that felt like hours, he says, “Where am I?”

“New York,” Marie replies.

************

My throat felt as if it were filled with rocks. Adjusting to the light, I look up to find the most breathtaking being. “I, um, New York?” I ask. 

“Did you hit your head? Do you need an ambulance?” the woman asks. Her face was full of concern.

“No, no I am fine. My bag. Do you see a bag anywhere?” I ask, searching for my devices. It appears as though they have disappeared. No devices in a strange world. I knew when I woke up this morning that this would not be my usual mission. Something was wrong. Or maybe for the first time ever, something was right. I look at my wrist. The watch has stopped. No “stopped” is the wrong word. No more counting down. Now it appears to be counting up. Adding time rather than taking it away. And the sound has ceded.  

“I’m sorry I do not see anything. Maybe someone took it. That might explain how you ended up unconscious on the ground,” she says, her warm face lulling him into a calm.

“Yes, yes maybe,” I say as I stagger to get up from the ground. The woman takes my arm and guides me into a standing position. We are now standing together, our faces inches away. Her warm breath hits my cheek and I feel bubbles swell in my stomach. A strange reaction. This woman feels familiar. As though I have known her in a previous world.

“Forgive me, I haven’t properly introduced myself. I am Marie. I live here. Any particular reason you were standing outside my door? I don’t think I had any deliveries coming.”

“Bialko, and honestly I have no idea how I came to be here. I seem to have lost some memories when I was unconscious.”

“Oh, no worries. Would you like to use my phone? Is there anyone you need to contact?”

“No, no one. I have no one,” I say. I rub my forehead, pain radiating. I have no one, one of the most honest statements I have ever made. Standing here in this new world I feel the magnitude of being alone. This will be my last mission. I will not be returning home this time. And I have no one who will care. No one will miss me. No one was waiting by the door in tears wondering where I was. And for the first time, I feel it. I feel the pain of knowing no one has ever cared. Except, I feel as though somewhere at one time, I was loved. I just can't seem to recall.

“Oh, ok. Really no one you want to call. I promise I don't mind if you need my phone.”

I grunt and turn away. She pities me. It is obvious. 

“Gotcha. Ok, well would you like to come inside? I have some food that I am cooking. When was the last time that you had a meal?”

“It has been a while,” I think aloud.

“Well, I may regret this, but if you would like to come in and have a meal with us, you can. Maybe you can clean yourself up some. That suit is too nice to be getting filthy in this hallway,” Marie says. The thought escaped her mouth before she could think better of it. Something felt right about this strange man on her doorstep. Looking at him, she felt compelled to let him in. 

“A meal with us? Who will I be dining with?” I ask, suddenly fearful this woman has a partner who may not appreciate me coming for dinner.

“My daughter Layla. She is funny, she will take your mind off of any worries you may have.” As she opens her door, I notice the young girl standing on her tiptoes and twirling. Very strange. “Layla, welcome Bialko. He is going to come for dinner tonight.”

“Is he sick? Confused? In trouble?” the young girl asks.

“No, why?” I ask.

“Well then you must be crazy because you are risking your life eating my mom’s food. She is a wonderful person, but an awful cook. Like AWFUL,” she giggles.

“Layla, stop that. I am not awful. I am not the best, but I am definitely not going to make you sick. Just maybe my food will lack some flavor.”

“I haven’t had a meal cooked by someone in a very long time. I’m sure anything will taste good at this point,” as I say it, I realize how hungry I really am. In my own world, hunger is rare. Our bodies do not require constant nutrition. This body is different. I can feel a pain in my stomach area that is craving sustenance. 

“Are you homeless?” Layla asks.

“Layla, stop. You do not need to answer that. You just sit down and enjoy some company while I cook. You can ignore any nosey questions that she might ask.”

“Not homeless, just no home around here,” I state.

“So then homeless. For now.”

“I suppose so. I’m a little out of sorts at the moment. Unsure of what my future is to hold actually,” I state, feeling the magnitude of the words. I really do not have a home or a purpose. My devices are missing. I’m in a strange world with strange beings. And I have weird feelings deep inside. And an unknown feeling that I have been here before. 

“What brings you to New York?” the young one asks me.

“Honestly, my boss. He gave me orders. Well direction. Well, I guess none of those. My boss sent me here with no directions and no orders. And now I feel slightly lost. Only at the moment, I also feel found. Like maybe this was where I was meant to be.”

The two women stare at me, unsure of who I may be. They are strangers, and yet so familiar. I notice the laughter and easy banter that they have. The love is apparent. Mother and daughter. So simple. Back home we have no mothers. Or fathers. Just leaders. And I was a destroyer. Without my devices, I appear to be just a man. A man with no way home. In a world I do not understand. With love. And mothers. And families. And time.

I realize I could stay here. In fact, I must stay here. No way home. I missed the countdown. I could live among the people. Who are filled with love. And families. And time. I could stay here and find a new way. I look down at the band on my arm. Time continues to tick up. No constraints on me.

“So, Bialko, that's a different name. Where is it you come from? Tell me about yourself,” Marie asks, wiping her hands on the towel. A smile of kindness on her face. She looks deeply into his eyes, something seems so familiar about this man. He reminds her of someone or something. A feeling she used to get when she looked deep into her husband’s eyes. Silly to think such a way about a stranger. Silly, but true. She noticed it the moment he entered her home-he brought light into it. Just like her husband used to do.

“Oh, that is a long story. So many things to tell,” I say. This apartment is cozy. A warmth I have never felt before, well at least that I can remember. And not just on my extremities. I feel a warmth inside. My heart. This lovely woman has grown my heart in fifteen minutes. What could she do with more time? Could she show me how to love in this new place?

“Ah, mysterious. I like that. Let’s start simple, where are you from?”

“A place far away from here. Much colder.”

“Colder than New York in January? Wow, it must be ice. What did you do there?”

“That is a very long tale. It may not make me look the best.”

“More mystery. I like that. I have always been intrigued by the unknown. Well, let me finish dinner and then I will take a seat and you can start your story. Take your time, paint yourself any way you want. For it is your story to tell. And don’t worry about the time, tomorrow is the weekend. We have all the time in the world.”

And so I begin my story.