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Description
Wrong Place, Wrong Time (2)
Kevin came home in a bad mood. He slammed the front door of his loft apartment behind him, threw a rucksack from his shoulder into a corner and abandoned it, stomped heavily through the kitchen area into his living space, leaving damp footprints on the scratched wooden floor, threw himself onto the couch and curled up into a ball.

University life was supposed to be one of the best times for a young man in his early twenties, but Kevin hated it. It wasn’t the workload – that, he could handle easily – it was Bradley Finnigan. That football-playing, beer-drinking, womanising troglodyte had bullied him all through high-school and now that he had transferred to Gallant City University where Kevin was studying, he was starting to make Kevin’s life a living hell all over again. Not content with starting the rumour that Kevin was gay – a ploy which hadn’t worked, since most of the college was open-minded about sexuality – he had started on the practical jokes: large paper cups filled with runny porridge hidden in Kevin’s locker, rigged to spill onto him when he opened the door had just been the start. Soon the entire football team, who had been indifferent to Kevin up until Bradley’s arrival, saw Kevin as a target. Spit-balls were the least of his problems. The juvenile pranks of tripping him in the halls, and slapping ‘kick-me’ signs to his back were becoming regular events in his day. This kind of thing was supposed to get left behind at High School.

Kevin balled his hand into a fist and pounded the couch several times. He felt tears of frustration begin to form in his eyes. That was when he heard a voice – a familiar voice.

“For a quiet young man, you make a hell of a lot of noise,” it said.

Kevin sat bolt upright and looked around the room. The man he had seen in the alley that morning… the man who had a bullet wound and who had pointed a gun at him… the man who had kissed him… stood against the doorway to his bathroom, leaning there much like he had leaned against that wall in the alleyway. Kevin suddenly realised that he must have walked straight past the man and not even seen him. He froze on the couch, his eyes wide, and his heart started to pound hard in his chest. The man, for his part, held up his hands, showing that he was not holding a weapon, though both of the holsters that were strapped to his belt and thighs were carrying guns.

“Don’t scream,” the man said, softly, and then as an afterthought, he added “please.”

Kevin did not speak. He kept his eyes locked on the man and watched as he adjusted a bandage that had been wrapped around the gunshot wound on his left arm. After a moment, during which he appeared to reach some satisfaction with the status of the bandage, he reached into a pocket of his leather trousers, pulled out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes and raised it towards his lips.

“You’re not supposed to smoke in this building,” Kevin found himself saying.

‘Oh, like that’s going to bother him!’ huffed Instinct.

Kevin wanted to kick himself for saying it, but what was said, was said. The man glanced up at him briefly, and held the stare while he continued to pull a cigarette from the packet with his lips. Then he tossed the packet onto a nearby table. He stepped over to one of the tall windows of the loft – a window that was wide open, yet Kevin knew for a fact that it had been closed before he had left, that morning. The man sat down on the sill of the window with one leg inside the apartment and the other on the sill itself. He glanced out at the fire escape outside the window, then took a lighter from another pocket, lit the cigarette, and pulled it from his lips taking great care to hold it outside the window, and to blow the smoke outside too.

Kevin didn’t press the issue.

‘Okay,’ Instinct shrugged. ‘Maybe I was wrong… this time.’

“Something vexes you?” the man asked.

‘Uh, yeah!’ Instinct said in Kevin’s mind, grateful for the change in subject. ‘There’s a stranger in my apartment who pointed a gun at me earlier today! You’re damned right something vexes me! Asshole!’

“Are you going to kill me?” Kevin asked quietly, betraying a slight tremble in his voice.

The man had taken another draw from his cigarette. When Kevin asked the question he laughed, spilling smoke into the apartment. He tried to waft the smoke out through the window as he replied.

“No,” he said.

‘And why should I believe you?’ Instinct bellowed.

“Who are you?” Kevin asked. “Why are you here? In my apartment?”

The man didn’t answer straight away. He looked at Kevin, his brown eyes looking straight into Kevin’s pale blues, his expression betraying nothing at all. He took another draw from the cigarette, and blew the smoke out of the window by twisting his mouth and lips in that direction, without breaking eye contact.

“Karl,” he finally said. He flicked the half-done cigarette out into the street beyond the fire escape and then stepped back into the apartment. He began to approach the couch, but Kevin moved sideways away from him. The man noticed this and hesitated. He raised his hands again and then, very slowly, he removed the two guns from the holsters at his thighs. Kevin tensed, but watched as he laid the guns on the table by the couch, next to the discarded pack of cigarettes, and stepped away from them. “I am not here to hurt you.” He said. “I promise.”

‘Oh yeah?” said Instinct.

‘I would imagine he is skilled enough to reach those guns in moments,” added Reason, having finally decided to contribute something to the internal dialogue.

‘But he promised,’ said Heart.

‘SHUT UP!’ said the others.

The man – Karl – took a step closer to the couch. When Kevin didn’t retreat further, he took another step, and another, until he was level with the furniture, and then lowered himself to sit. Kevin watched every move, slow and deliberate, designed not to cause Kevin any alarm. Karl placed his hands on his knees where they could be clearly seen, and then turned his head to face Kevin.

“I used a bandage from your first aid kit,” he said. “I’m sorry, it was the last one you had.”

“Okay,” Kevin replied. “How did you know where I live?”

Karl frowned, but curled one side of his mouth into a smile as though a thought had occurred to him. “I answered your first question,” he said. “I gave you my name, but you have not answered my question. Quid pro quo.”

“Your question?” Kevin asked.

“Something vexes you?” Karl repeated.

“Just college stuff,” Kevin said, in an attempt to sound dismissive.

“Ah,” Karl nodded and looked ahead of himself at the opposite wall. “If you do not want to tell me, that’s fine,” he went on. “None of my business.” His head turned back just a fraction, his eyes looking sideways at Kevin. “But you do not have to lie.”

“I’m not lying,” Kevin protested as firmly as he dared to.

“You are not telling the whole truth,” Karl said, turning his head more towards Kevin. He raised one hand and tapped the side of his head with a finger. “I know. I can tell.”

“Bullies,” Kevin raised his voice and seasoned it with a hint of anger. “Some douchebag is giving me a hard time, okay?”

“Okay,” Karl nodded calmly, raising both of his own hands in a gesture of surrender. “Do not upset yourself. Now, which question would you like me to answer next? You have asked two.” He lowered his hands to his knees again.

“Two?”

“‘Why are you here?’ ‘How did you know where I live?’” Karl said, helpfully.

“The second one,” Kevin answered. Karl hesitated. He looked away for a brief moment, and then glanced sideways at Kevin, cracked what could have passed as a shy smile, and answered.

“I followed you.” Kevin was about to speak when Karl raised a one hand to quiet him. “You worked early this morning, washing glasses for a bar, downtown. Then you came back here for something to eat and to collect your college bag. When you left this afternoon, I came into your apartment to look for something I could use for a bandage.” He gestured at his left arm.

“Why me?” Kevin asked. Karl frowned, and shook his head. “Alright!" Kevin surrendered. "We’re obviously playing your game by your rules, so what’s your question?”

“Did you like the kiss?” Karl asked, his shy smile returning.

‘Oh yes!” said Heart.

‘Absolutely not!’ said Reason, sternly.

‘You nearly made me shit myself, you asshole!’ yelled Instinct.

“Yes,” Kevin said quietly. “But I was scared. You were pointing a gun at me so…”

Karl suddenly twisted his body around and took one of the guns from the table beside the couch. He turned back towards Kevin, who had backed away and was now sitting precariously on the arm of the couch, ready to move quickly in whichever direction Instinct decided was best. Then Kevin noticed that Karl was holding the gun by the barrel, and holding it out towards Kevin.

“Take it,” Karl offered, calmly. “Take the gun. Take control of the situation.”

Kevin shook his head.

“I will not hurt you,” Karl spoke softly, and replaced the gun on the table. “I promise, and I am nothing if not a man of my word.” Kevin lowered himself back down onto the couch slowly. “Your turn,” Karl smiled.

“Why me?” Kevin asked again.

Karl smiled broadly. “Because I liked the kiss too.”

Description
Wrong Place, Wrong Time (2)
Kevin came home in a bad mood. He slammed the front door of his loft apartment behind him, threw a rucksack from his shoulder into a corner and abandoned it, stomped heavily through the kitchen area into his living space, leaving damp footprints on the scratched wooden floor, threw himself onto the couch and curled up into a ball.

University life was supposed to be one of the best times for a young man in his early twenties, but Kevin hated it. It wasn’t the workload – that, he could handle easily – it was Bradley Finnigan. That football-playing, beer-drinking, womanising troglodyte had bullied him all through high-school and now that he had transferred to Gallant City University where Kevin was studying, he was starting to make Kevin’s life a living hell all over again. Not content with starting the rumour that Kevin was gay – a ploy which hadn’t worked, since most of the college was open-minded about sexuality – he had started on the practical jokes: large paper cups filled with runny porridge hidden in Kevin’s locker, rigged to spill onto him when he opened the door had just been the start. Soon the entire football team, who had been indifferent to Kevin up until Bradley’s arrival, saw Kevin as a target. Spit-balls were the least of his problems. The juvenile pranks of tripping him in the halls, and slapping ‘kick-me’ signs to his back were becoming regular events in his day. This kind of thing was supposed to get left behind at High School.

Kevin balled his hand into a fist and pounded the couch several times. He felt tears of frustration begin to form in his eyes. That was when he heard a voice – a familiar voice.

“For a quiet young man, you make a hell of a lot of noise,” it said.

Kevin sat bolt upright and looked around the room. The man he had seen in the alley that morning… the man who had a bullet wound and who had pointed a gun at him… the man who had kissed him… stood against the doorway to his bathroom, leaning there much like he had leaned against that wall in the alleyway. Kevin suddenly realised that he must have walked straight past the man and not even seen him. He froze on the couch, his eyes wide, and his heart started to pound hard in his chest. The man, for his part, held up his hands, showing that he was not holding a weapon, though both of the holsters that were strapped to his belt and thighs were carrying guns.

“Don’t scream,” the man said, softly, and then as an afterthought, he added “please.”

Kevin did not speak. He kept his eyes locked on the man and watched as he adjusted a bandage that had been wrapped around the gunshot wound on his left arm. After a moment, during which he appeared to reach some satisfaction with the status of the bandage, he reached into a pocket of his leather trousers, pulled out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes and raised it towards his lips.

“You’re not supposed to smoke in this building,” Kevin found himself saying.

‘Oh, like that’s going to bother him!’ huffed Instinct.

Kevin wanted to kick himself for saying it, but what was said, was said. The man glanced up at him briefly, and held the stare while he continued to pull a cigarette from the packet with his lips. Then he tossed the packet onto a nearby table. He stepped over to one of the tall windows of the loft – a window that was wide open, yet Kevin knew for a fact that it had been closed before he had left, that morning. The man sat down on the sill of the window with one leg inside the apartment and the other on the sill itself. He glanced out at the fire escape outside the window, then took a lighter from another pocket, lit the cigarette, and pulled it from his lips taking great care to hold it outside the window, and to blow the smoke outside too.

Kevin didn’t press the issue.

‘Okay,’ Instinct shrugged. ‘Maybe I was wrong… this time.’

“Something vexes you?” the man asked.

‘Uh, yeah!’ Instinct said in Kevin’s mind, grateful for the change in subject. ‘There’s a stranger in my apartment who pointed a gun at me earlier today! You’re damned right something vexes me! Asshole!’

“Are you going to kill me?” Kevin asked quietly, betraying a slight tremble in his voice.

The man had taken another draw from his cigarette. When Kevin asked the question he laughed, spilling smoke into the apartment. He tried to waft the smoke out through the window as he replied.

“No,” he said.

‘And why should I believe you?’ Instinct bellowed.

“Who are you?” Kevin asked. “Why are you here? In my apartment?”

The man didn’t answer straight away. He looked at Kevin, his brown eyes looking straight into Kevin’s pale blues, his expression betraying nothing at all. He took another draw from the cigarette, and blew the smoke out of the window by twisting his mouth and lips in that direction, without breaking eye contact.

“Karl,” he finally said. He flicked the half-done cigarette out into the street beyond the fire escape and then stepped back into the apartment. He began to approach the couch, but Kevin moved sideways away from him. The man noticed this and hesitated. He raised his hands again and then, very slowly, he removed the two guns from the holsters at his thighs. Kevin tensed, but watched as he laid the guns on the table by the couch, next to the discarded pack of cigarettes, and stepped away from them. “I am not here to hurt you.” He said. “I promise.”

‘Oh yeah?” said Instinct.

‘I would imagine he is skilled enough to reach those guns in moments,” added Reason, having finally decided to contribute something to the internal dialogue.

‘But he promised,’ said Heart.

‘SHUT UP!’ said the others.

The man – Karl – took a step closer to the couch. When Kevin didn’t retreat further, he took another step, and another, until he was level with the furniture, and then lowered himself to sit. Kevin watched every move, slow and deliberate, designed not to cause Kevin any alarm. Karl placed his hands on his knees where they could be clearly seen, and then turned his head to face Kevin.

“I used a bandage from your first aid kit,” he said. “I’m sorry, it was the last one you had.”

“Okay,” Kevin replied. “How did you know where I live?”

Karl frowned, but curled one side of his mouth into a smile as though a thought had occurred to him. “I answered your first question,” he said. “I gave you my name, but you have not answered my question. Quid pro quo.”

“Your question?” Kevin asked.

“Something vexes you?” Karl repeated.

“Just college stuff,” Kevin said, in an attempt to sound dismissive.

“Ah,” Karl nodded and looked ahead of himself at the opposite wall. “If you do not want to tell me, that’s fine,” he went on. “None of my business.” His head turned back just a fraction, his eyes looking sideways at Kevin. “But you do not have to lie.”

“I’m not lying,” Kevin protested as firmly as he dared to.

“You are not telling the whole truth,” Karl said, turning his head more towards Kevin. He raised one hand and tapped the side of his head with a finger. “I know. I can tell.”

“Bullies,” Kevin raised his voice and seasoned it with a hint of anger. “Some douchebag is giving me a hard time, okay?”

“Okay,” Karl nodded calmly, raising both of his own hands in a gesture of surrender. “Do not upset yourself. Now, which question would you like me to answer next? You have asked two.” He lowered his hands to his knees again.

“Two?”

“‘Why are you here?’ ‘How did you know where I live?’” Karl said, helpfully.

“The second one,” Kevin answered. Karl hesitated. He looked away for a brief moment, and then glanced sideways at Kevin, cracked what could have passed as a shy smile, and answered.

“I followed you.” Kevin was about to speak when Karl raised a one hand to quiet him. “You worked early this morning, washing glasses for a bar, downtown. Then you came back here for something to eat and to collect your college bag. When you left this afternoon, I came into your apartment to look for something I could use for a bandage.” He gestured at his left arm.

“Why me?” Kevin asked. Karl frowned, and shook his head. “Alright!" Kevin surrendered. "We’re obviously playing your game by your rules, so what’s your question?”

“Did you like the kiss?” Karl asked, his shy smile returning.

‘Oh yes!” said Heart.

‘Absolutely not!’ said Reason, sternly.

‘You nearly made me shit myself, you asshole!’ yelled Instinct.

“Yes,” Kevin said quietly. “But I was scared. You were pointing a gun at me so…”

Karl suddenly twisted his body around and took one of the guns from the table beside the couch. He turned back towards Kevin, who had backed away and was now sitting precariously on the arm of the couch, ready to move quickly in whichever direction Instinct decided was best. Then Kevin noticed that Karl was holding the gun by the barrel, and holding it out towards Kevin.

“Take it,” Karl offered, calmly. “Take the gun. Take control of the situation.”

Kevin shook his head.

“I will not hurt you,” Karl spoke softly, and replaced the gun on the table. “I promise, and I am nothing if not a man of my word.” Kevin lowered himself back down onto the couch slowly. “Your turn,” Karl smiled.

“Why me?” Kevin asked again.

Karl smiled broadly. “Because I liked the kiss too.”