A Private Matter

Part 2

The man I am looking for is named Terrence. My first lead was the safety deposit box, but that led me nowhere. I talked to a clerk who worked there, and the only recollection they had about Terrence was that he was quiet and reserved. Like my employer said, the box was empty. No one remembers seeing him empty it, and there was no camera footage for the night he probably did it. I doubt it was a coincidence, but the Benjamin that I gave the clerk had no influence, and she didn’t appear to be hiding anything. She was primarily worried I was a cop who would bust her for the copious amounts of illicit substances she was hiding in her desk. 

Hoping to have more luck, I decide it's time to visit his apartment. I was expecting a rat-infested shit hole, but the building is reasonably stylish and upper-middle class. Whoever my employer is, he wanted to give Terrence some luxury to write this manuscript but not too much to draw unwanted attention. I see a gate at the front for privacy, but breaking privacy is my specialty. The security looks good but not good enough to deter me. When I enter Terrence's apartment, I expect to find the place ransacked and destroyed due to my employer’s goons looking for this manuscript, but strangely I find the place intact. I hear the shower running, and I take some cover to see who the mysterious guest is. The water cuts off, and the stranger exits the bathroom. I’m hoping this stranger is Terrence, but that would make my job too easy; instead, a beautiful woman walks out. She looks at me undisturbed and blankly. There is a quizzical look on her face. I expect her to cover up, but she stands there, lackadaisical and confused. I’m slightly shocked there is a living person here. After the first meeting with my employer, I expected anyone close to Terrence or knowledgeable of Terrence would either be dead or locked up somewhere being interrogated, but this mysterious woman is in his apartment, free and alive.  

“Another goon looking for Terrence, I would assume?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call myself a goon, but you’re not entirely wrong.” 

“He’s not here. Hasn’t been for a while.” She walks over and throws a robe on, and casually walks to the front door. She opens it for me and motions for me to leave, but I ignore her and sit on the couch instead. My interrogation hasn’t even begun. 

“So, who are you and what relation do you have to Terrence?” 

“Are you a cop?” She asks this and slams the door loud enough for the entire complex to hear. 

“No reason to cause a ruckus lady.” 

“Why? Don’t want to alarm the building of your presence? So, I would assume, not a cop.” 

I shake my head and instinctively reach for a cigarette in my jacket pocket, forgetting that I never grabbed a pack on my way here. She tries to hide it, but her face betrays terror when I stick my hand in my jacket; she probably thought I was reaching for a gun. I slowly pull my hand out of my pocket. She looks confused when I pull nothing out. 

“Out of smokes. It’s a hard habit to break.” I try to break the tension, but I can still see the terror in her eyes. 

“What’s your name lady?”

“Terra”

“So, Terrence and Terra. What, are you brother and sister, lovers, friends? Did you kill him?” Straight to the point. I'm trying to gauge her reaction; see if her face betrays any secrets she may be hiding, but she stares at me with the same terrified and confused expression. 

“What do you want with Terrence?" She walks away right after asking her question. It seems like an odd time to just walk away, but Terra doesn’t seem all there. She looks like she is lost or grieving.   

“That’s supposed to be private.” 

“Are you looking for the manuscript?” I hear her voice echo from the back room. She comes back out wearing loose-fitting clothes; her eyes are empty and soulless. It appears she hasn’t slept in days. I look around the apartment some more, it is mostly clean but I notice a stack of dishes, mainly coffee cups, falling over in the sink. Something is keeping her awake. Is it a guilty conscience, or is she afraid of something?

“Maybe,” I say, trying to sound mysterious but probably sounding more nervous. I was specifically told to keep the details of my job as discreet as possible, but this lady can help, and I don't want to burn my bridges. 

“Why do I get the feeling that you’ve seen the car?” She tries to sound calm as she says this, but her voice betrays the horror that she feels. “Did you get in the car?” She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Her hand trembles as she tries to light the cigarette; I take the lighter from her and light her smoke. I notice some weird markings on her hand but hold my tongue. This isn't the best time to start asking questions about that; I can tell she is barely holding things together. 

“Can I have one of those?” 

“I thought you were trying to quit?”

“Old habits you know.” I laugh as I say this, but I’m starting to feel nervous. This is all abnormal and absurd. I feel like I’m half-asleep, living inside of a dream. 

“Did you get in the car?” She is still trembling as she takes a drag from her smoke.

“No, just stood outside of it.”

“Good. Whatever you do, don’t ever get in that car.”

“Look, I feel like we are getting off track here. I was just hired to find this manuscript and return it to my employer.”

“Did your employer ever give you a name?”

I go to say their name, but my mind goes blank. I remember a name being said on the phone, but as I go to speak it now, my mouth begins to feel heavy and I can't utter a single word. My mind goes blank; all I can see or remember of my employer is that ghostly white mouth and the shadows. “I...I don’t remember.”

“Terrence had the same problem. When his employer called to ask about the manuscript, I remember hearing Terrence speak their name, but every time I think about it, my mind clouds up, and I forget what it is.”

“Maybe I put the name in my contacts.” I grab the phone my employer gifted me and scroll through the contact list. My vision gets blurry, and the phone screen goes black; it hurts to even look at the phone.

“Can you read that?” I ask her, trying to sound calm but feeling disoriented.

“Hold it still.” She says this even though I know my hand hasn't moved. I place the phone in front of her, but when I look over, it looks as if all the light has left her eyes. Her eyes are completely grey and featureless. 

I feel a headache coming on. It feels like an ax has been buried in my skull. 

Everything goes black and it feels like I am falling. I can feel the darkness swarming around me; it feels like I am being grabbed and torn to pieces. Is this why my employer warned me about privacy? Did I break my contract by showing Terra my phone? I open my eyes, and Terra is not in front of me; instead, I see Terrence; he is screaming at me; his screams are incoherent, but I notice blood pouring from his mouth, gallons at a time; suddenly, Terra is back in front of me. She is shaking me and slaps me begging me to come back and wake up. 

“Hey, Remy? Are you there? Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“That didn’t look fine.”

“What do you mean?” I ask her still expecting to see the horrible vision of Terrence in front of me. 

“Your eyes, they went completely black.” She is not hiding the terror anymore; there is a fear in her eyes that is palpable and present.  

What exactly have I gotten myself into? None of this is normal; it feels like a dream or a nightmare. 

“Do you know anything about Terrence’s manuscript? What was in it? Why it's so important?" The words rush out of my mouth. Knowledge is urgent now; I feel at any moment, I'll be pulled back into the void with the darkness trying to rip me apart. 

“I know that it was top secret. I know the one time I looked at it, the words seemed to be there on the page and then disappear. Terrence found me looking through the pages in terror, and he began screaming at me; that night as we lay in bed, he held me and apologized. He said that the words contained in that manuscript could damage and destroy. That was the last night he was here.”

“So, you were lovers?" She nods, and tears start spilling from her eyes; the ever-present grief and fear are no longer held back. 

“Before he began writing this, Terrence was genial and kind, probably the kindest man I’ve ever known. He enjoyed writing and found it cathartic and soothing, but it didn’t pay the bills; it didn’t put food on the table. He tried everything and applied everywhere, but nothing came from it; nothing materialized. He found a website one day while scouring for jobs and came across a headline for a paid writing gig and a place to live while writing it. We both were ecstatic. As you can see, we were furnished pretty well, and the pay was good, but after he started the assignment, Terrence changed. He became manic and overly excited. He started drinking heavily, and we both picked up smoking again. We thought the money and the new apartment would fix things, but it made everything worse. Say what you will about poverty and debt, but something about selling himself changed Terrence for the worse.”

“Did he finish the manuscript?” I find a tissue and hand it over so she can wipe her face. 

“Yes. I asked him if I could read it, and he got mad with me, scary mad. That’s when I snuck into his office and tried to read it.”

“There is something very wrong with all of this.” I start pacing around the room. “What is so important about this manuscript, and why did Terrence disappear? It doesn’t sound like he broke any privacy contract. You couldn’t even read it, hell, neither one of us can even read the name of mine and his employer.” 

The phone my employer gave me begins to ring. We both look at the phone lying on the table in horror. 

“Answer it.” Terra pleads to me, but I can't move. I stand motionless, frozen with fear. 

“If I know anything about how that man frightened Terrence, you do not want to let that phone stop ringing." I hurry and try to answer it, but it stops ringing. 

Multiple phones begin ringing from the apartment: our cellphones, the cell phone from my employer, and even Terra’s landline; the ringing starts congealing together; the pitch gets higher and higher and reaches a crescendo. 

There is now a ringing in my head. I see Terra collapse to the floor with her head in her hands; she is screaming, but I cannot hear her; all I hear is the ringing and an angry voice lashing out at me in my mind. 

“PICK UP THE PHONE REMY! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO IGNORE ME! PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE!”

I reach over and grab the cell phone from my employer and answer it; suddenly, everything is back to normal. Terra is back in her chair, still wiping the tears from her eyes. I’m sitting in the same spot I was in before. She doesn’t seem to notice it, but she wipes away some blood that is dripping from her nose. 

“Hello,” I answer the phone, my voice shaking and trembling from the ringing.

“Next time, you’ll pick up right away, won’t you Remy?”

“Yes. Yes sir.” 

“I can see you are getting familiar with Terrence’s lady. Didn’t I tell you to keep this a private matter?” 

“Yes, Mr.___,” I say their name but immediately forget it. Terra heard it; I know because I see fear in her eyes; her head slumps down, and she goes back to what she was doing before; it’s like she didn’t hear anything. 

“You can use her assistance, but I did not permit you to talk about me.” 

“I...I didn't know"

"Well, now you do know. Who I am is not important; you couldn't figure me out if you tried. I want that manuscript, Remy, that is why I hired you, and that is the job you will do."

The phone clicks and hangs up. For a moment, I am still disoriented, but I see Terra in front of me and regain my senses. 

“Please tell me you have some idea where this manuscript is stashed.” She looks at me like she is unsure of who I am. “Terrence’s manuscript Terra. Do you know where it could be stashed?” 

“Maybe. I’m not sure what is happening right now. Have we been talking about Terrence? Do you know where he is?” My employer must have done something to her; it's like she's never met me before. She keeps looking at me like she doesn't know who I am. 

“I’m Remy Ashely. We’ve been talking about your...Terrence, we’ve been talking about Terrence and his manuscript. You said y’all had an apartment before moving here.”

“Yes, but it’s been a while since we lived there now. We moved here when Terrence started writing for Mr___.” She says the name, but I don't hear it; I get scared even mentioning their name will set off another chain of events. Terra looks panicked and starts screaming. 

"Not them! Not them!

“Terra! Terra! Calm down! Look at my face. Remember what we just talked about.” It is at this moment that I realize that time has escaped me. How long have I been here? What time is it? Where am I now? 

The world drops out around me for a while. Past, present, and future all mingle into one; I want to make them all fit together, but the past is a scene covered in dense fog, the present is not truly present, and the future keeps flexing and changing. In front of me aren’t abstract conceptions of time but liquid and fluid structures that I can sink into and swim around. A flat white screen appears in this opaque and illustrious ocean covered in black ink, and I know what I am seeing in front of me is the manuscript, but I can't grab it. I reach out mentally towards the screen, but then I am back in that room with Terra consoling her, back in the present. Or is it past? 

I feel dizzy for a moment like I have been ripped out of time; I feel the curious sensation of deja vu, like this moment has happened multiple times before. 

“I’m going to grab a coat for you Terra, and we are going to your old apartment.” I search around their apartment and find what appears to be her closet; I grab a coat and wrap it around her, and walk her to the door. The hallway that was here before is now gone; I know the apartment was inside, but I am now greeted by pitch-black night; the moon hovers large above us; there are no other lights except its glow.