The minister shrugged his shoulders. “He’s staying mum on who supplied him with the how and when, but according to his confession, he said the reason was because you were evil. You did Satan’s bidding.”
The minister crossed himself.
“Satan’s bidding? And how would I do that?” Jack laughed. “Is having a son and a lovely wife and providing for them for many years, considered evil?”
The minister looked at him sideways. He opened the door and stepped back out into the hallway. The minister was looking at him as he would at a ghost.
“You don’t have a son or a wife. You were never married, Jack.”
The minister shut the door hard. It locked from the outside.
“No one understands,” a voice behind him said.
Jack jumped and slipped off the bunk, hitting the floor on his ass.
“How did you get in here?”
Mr. Odd stood in the corner, using a toothpick to clean his teeth. Jack could see the smile on Mr. Odd’s lips. As his lips spread apart, his eyes did too. The further his mouth opened, the face followed. It gave him an altogether strange countenance, as if his face were rubber.
“I come and go as I please. Now, we have business.”
“We have business? What does that mean? They said I’m free, I’m out. I am leaving to go see my son and my wife as soon as they give me my walking papers.”
Mr. Odd laughed. Jack looked away. The sight of the thing’s face was instantly too much to handle.
Maybe I’ve been alone too long?
“You’re fine, Jack. This happens sometimes. You’ll get used to it.”
The minister’s last words still echoed in his mind.
I don’t have a son? A wife? How could he say that?
“It’s easy,” Mr. Odd stepped closer, and sat on the bunk, looking down at Jack. “It’s a simple trick of the mind. I tell them what to think. Until I remove the implanted thoughts, they’ll always think whatever I want them to.”
Jack edged away and leaned against the wall of his cell. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. No one can do what you claim. And if you’re so good at owning thoughts, then why did you have to pull a gun to save me from lethal injection back in the chamber, when you could’ve planted thoughts in everyone’s mind?”
Mr. Odd shook his head so violently, hair slipped off and clumped to the floor. “A collective mindset is dangerous. One by one I can do, but that many at one time can be dangerous. Even for me.”
“Have you changed my thoughts, my memories? Do I have a family, or is the minister the one who has it wrong?”
“You do have a family. You can go back to them. But first, we have business. Until our business has been concluded, people will assume you don’t have a family. Even your wife doesn’t know you anymore. It was funny. You should’ve seen her face.
Why am I here? I must be morbid. I don’t want to see a strange man die.
Oh, she is a riot.”
While Mr. Odd laughed at his wife’s actions, all Jack could think about was getting away from him. He had grown to accept his fate months ago, and in the last few hours he was told he would live. He would be able to grow old with his wife. He could see his son off to college. The black cloak that had become his life had been removed. It was over, and this thing before him was talking about business. He had no business with Mr. Odd. At any time, guards would come and release him from jail. His wife would pick him up and all would be right with the world again.
Mr. Odd shook his head in the negative. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think what?”
He stood, his massive bulk even bigger than Jack remembered. The room smelled like decaying meat mixed with old yogurt.
“You don’t understand. The man who confessed only
thinks
he did it. Everyone here has been told the right information. None of them are my pawns. But your wife and son don’t know about you anymore. Once you agree to do what I ask, in return, I will—”
“You bastard.” Jack had heard enough. He jumped up from the floor and lunged at the monster in the room.
He missed, continued to fall forward and smacked into the wall on the other side. When he spun around, Mr. Odd was smiling again.
“I wouldn’t do that. You’ll never be able to touch me unless I let you.”
Jack pushed himself off the wall and dropped onto his bunk. “What now?” he asked between breaths. “Even if I were to believe you, what now?”
“There’s a man I need killed. He’s a vile person. You’d be doing the world a favor because some people
should
die. After you complete this task for me, you get your life back. All planted memories of all parties will be erased. Everything goes back to normal. Are you agreeable?”
“I can’t kill a man. I never have and I never will.”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting what I am.”
“How’s that?” Jack asked.
How long before guards show up to release me?
“Don’t worry about the guards. They won’t come until we’re done our little talk.”
“How do you know that? Are you reading my mind?”
“If I can change memories and thoughts, don’t you think I can read them too? Come on, you’re a smart man.”
For the first time since Jack met Mr. Odd, he was starting to feel an acute fear. Was there a safe play, a easy way out? Could Mr. Odd be real, or was this some kind of sick joke?
“How does it work? Would you give me all the details too?” Jack asked.
“Of course. All I have to do is plant the correct thoughts. They will all expire as soon as the deed is done. You can go back to your wife and she’ll wake up looking forward to seeing you. Your life will go back to normal.”
“The alternative?”
“You leave here and never see your family again for as long as you live. You’ll also look over your shoulder for the rest of your life as you’ll never know when I will have someone
think
that
you
are to be exterminated.”
“Your negotiation skills are superior,” Jack said, his nose clogging with the stench coming from Mr. Odd. Decay appeared to be rapidly changing his features. “Is something happening to you?”
“I can only hold form for short periods. Make a choice, Mr. Singer. I’m running out of time.”
“Okay, I’ve made my choice.”
Mr. Odd nodded for him to continue. Part of the skin on his cheek slipped off and plopped on his shoe.
“Pray tell.”
Jack had no idea where he was anymore. Could a thing like Mr. Odd exist? He looked down at his fingers as they twitched above his knees.
“I refuse to do anything, whatsoever for you. I am a man who was on death row. Another man has confessed to the murders that I did
not
commit. I am to be freed to go home to my family. Whoever, or whatever you are, is an abomination. You are fake. There is no way what you’re saying is true. You can leave now.”
He looked back up to gauge Mr. Odd’s reaction, but he was alone. Jack stood and looked around. In seconds the decaying meat smell dissipated.
“Oh good,” he said to himself. “It’s over. He’s gone.”
The door lock clicked and then it opened. The minister from before stepped in, five guards standing behind him.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Sure. I cannot wait to see my wife and son. They are going to be happy. Oh, wait,” he leaned closer to the minister, and in a lower voice said. “You know I have a wife, right?”
The minister stepped back a little and looked at the closest guard. “Yes, Mr. Singer. I’m aware that you’re married.”
“Perfect. That little charade is over. Well, let’s get to it.”
He stepped out and turned to the right, but the guards blocked his way.
“It’s this way, Mr. Singer.”
“No, that way is the chamber. I’m free. The call came in. The guy confessed, remember?”
The minister looked at each guard, and then all six men looked at Jack.
“Are we going to have a problem here?” the lead guard asked.
“Why would we have a problem? I’m free. There’s a confession,” Jack felt his nerves couldn’t take any more.
“There’s no confession, Mr. Singer. Your execution didn’t receive a stay. The audience has convened. Everything is on time. Please come with us. Don’t make it hard on yourself.”
“Wait, what about the guard who took a gun out and stopped the injection. You remember.” He turned to the minister. “You and I just talked about the confession not half an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Singer. I have no idea what you’re talking about. There has been no guard with a gun and this is the first we’ve talked today.”
Jack turned and ran. Mr. Odd was standing at the end of the hallway, smiling.
My Stranger
The bed covers lay askew, my face buried, my breath restricted. I felt a cool sheen of sweat on my brow, my heart beat against the inside of my chest.
In the dim light coming through the curtains of my bedroom window, I saw a man I didn’t recognize. This had happened before, so I wasn’t immediately alarmed.
But something was different this time. When I woke up with strangers in the past, there was always a small characteristic about the person I would remember. Something I could find unique to them that would allow me to know who they were. Like a goatee, the style of their haircut or the general shape or build of the person.
The man beside me was unrecognizable. He was clean shaven and bald. When I went to bed last night, alone, no one was in the house. My husband has been away for five weeks on a book tour. I expected him back last night or early this morning, but my husband has hair on his head.
The guy beside me doesn’t.
I edged off the bed doing my best not to wake the stranger. I slipped into my walk-in closet and got dressed. On the off chance that I was wrong and this was my husband I decided not to call the police. Instead, I would go through the photo albums in the cabinet downstairs and retrieve a picture of our wedding day.
My collection of photos is rare in nature. I have every page numbered and every picture has a caption with the date. The time the picture was taken and the names of all the people are there too. This helps me to recognize people based on the events in my life. It would be impossible otherwise because of my condition.
I stepped out of the closet, through the bedroom and started for the stairs. In under a minute I was downstairs in front of the wooden cabinet that held the photo albums.
Something thumped upstairs. It startled me enough to make me jump.
The man was awake.
This man may not be my husband. But then maybe he is. I just don’t know yet.
What would I do if he wasn’t my husband? How would I ever explain that? I do have a good memory so I know I didn’t invite anyone over last night. Rationally, I knew it had to be my man. But he wasn’t bald. He wouldn’t have shaved his head without telling me first. And I needed a photo to confirm that.
My hand fumbled and slipped off the latch on the cabinet. I was shaking but managed to get a firm grasp on the tiny brass knob. I yanked open the cabinet drawer and reached in for the photo album.
The drawer was empty.
Not a single photo album or picture. I checked the other drawers and found nothing.
My husband would never move them. He knows how important they are to me.
“Hey!” The man yelled down.
I jumped. I could hear him on the stairs. It sounded like he was taking them two at a time.
I was on my feet and running without thought or hesitation. I ran to the back and was out the door and off the deck in seconds flat. Our property is small, making it easy to get to the edge of the yard fast. I scooted around the neighbor’s fence, removing me from view of the house. I passed at least five homes before turning around to see if I was being pursued.
The street behind me was empty.
I reached for my cell phone. Then I realized I hadn’t grabbed it. I remembered there was a coffee shop about four blocks away and decided to head there. I would have a coffee and calm down. Then I’d use a pay phone to call my husband’s cell.
Everything would work itself out, I said to myself with a lack of certainty.
#
The coffee shop wasn’t too busy. I ordered a coffee and found a small table by the door where I sat down. Both hands cradled the cup for warmth. I spied a pay phone in the corner.
I heard the jangle of the coffee shop door as it opened. A familiar man stepped in and turned toward me. His eyeglasses were unique. They were rectangular with rounded corners.
The important thing was that I recognized something. Although, until I heard a name, I had no idea who he was.
He walked over to my table and sat down across from me. I bristled a little at the interruption.