Fook (43 page)

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Authors: Brian Drinkwater

Tags: #1991, #mit, #Time Travel, #boston

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Leaping from his seat, Phil all but flew to
the front door, expecting to find his oldest daughter standing on
the other side. Why she was ringing the doorbell and not using her
new key would be a question, but it would have to wait in line
behind some much more serious and worrisome ones first.

“Where have you been?” Phil yanked open the
door, surprised to find a boy on the other side.

He was dressed in what appeared to be a tux,
though it’s loose fit and strange blue hues made him look more like
a clown or someone who might belt out a singing telegram at any
moment. At his side hung a large black duffle bag, in which were
probably a bunch of helium filled balloons that he’d probably set
free at the finale of his song.

“May I help you?”

“Mr. Bishop?” the entertainer asked.

“Yes,” Phil answered apprehensively.

“My name is Mark.”

Phil just stared at him confused.

“Mark Fossy,” the kid clarified.

“Oh, Mark,” Phil finally recognized the
name. “Katie’s Mark,” he smiled, though instantly wanted to cringe
after playing back what he’d just said.

Mark smiled and bowed his head.

"He's obviously much more timid than his
obnoxious brothers" Phil thought, as he stared down at the awkward
looking kid before him.

“Is Katie here?” Mark finally managed to
harness his nerves and make eye contact again, though barely.

“She is but… Didn’t she tell you that she
can’t go to the dance tonight? She was in the hospital yesterday.”
Wow, this was going to be awkward if he was the one breaking this
news to the kid, Phil thought.

“Oh, I know. I was there. I know she can’t
go. She told me and I understand completely. Whatever’s best for
her and the baby.”

“Maybe this kid’s not so bad after all”,
Phil thought.

“I just wanted to stop by and bring her
something,” Mark held up the bag.

“And what’s in the bag?” Phil questioned,
his suspicious police nature picturing a bag full of cocaine or
fire arms, even though he knew he was being absolutely
ridiculous.

Knowing what Katie’s father did for a living
and noticing the look of suspicion on his face, Mark placed the bag
on the threshold between them and pulled back the zipper, revealing
the bag’s contents.

Phil, seeing what was inside, instantly shot
the nervous kid a puzzled look.

 

*****

 

Knock, knock, knock.

“Daddy, since when do you knock?” Katie
questioned from her bed, her eyes fixed on 'Saved by The Bell’s'
Screech. “Don’t turn out like him,” she whispered to her
stomach.

Realizing that he still hadn’t entered,
Katie sighed and meandered over to the door, her eyes still fixed
on the T.V. nerd’s wild antics.

“Finally believe in privacy?” she greeted
her father as she opened the door but instead of the familiar,
parental figure she’d expected to find on the other side, in his
place stood Mark. Caught off guard by his presence and his colorful
outfit, she did a quick double take of the television, and for the
first time realized that she had a thing for Dustin Diamond.

“Hey Katie.”

“Mark. What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were feeling
alright.”

“I’m okay. Listen, I’m sorry about the
dance,” she apologized again for the last minute cancellation but
stopped in her tracks as she stared at his outfit. “I did tell you,
right?”

“Yeah.”

“Phew,” she breathed an internal sigh of
relief. She already felt bad enough for canceling their date. She
would have felt horrible if she’d then forgotten to tell him about
it.

“If I told you, why are you all dressed up
then?”

“May I come in?” Mark avoided the
question.

“I guess so, but leave the door open. My dad
has an open door policy,” she rolled her eyes as she returned to
her bed, sitting down on the edge as Mark moved into the center of
the room and placed the black duffle bag on the rug in front of
him.”

“What’s in the bag?” Katie questioned
curiously.

Anticipating the question, “I need you to
close your eyes.”

Confused and still staring at the bag, she
wondered what was inside, cocaine or maybe firearms, she thought,
then laughed at herself for how obvious it was that she was her
father's daughter. “You’re not going to chloroform me or anything,
are you?” she joked.

“Just close your eyes,” Mark repeated.

“Okay,” she complied. “Because my dad’s on
high alert tonight. Apparently my sister is dating a mass murderer
or something, which could go one of two ways for you, depending on
whether or not you’re suspected of murder as well.”

“Open them,” Mark interrupted her
rambling.

Opening her eyes she instantly saw the clear
plastic container which Mark had placed on her lap and the gorgeous
orchid corsage within it.

“It’s beautiful,” Katie looked up, the smile
already beaming from her face doubling in size as she saw Mark
kneeling before her, a mirror ball dangling from one hand and in
the other, a flashlight, the reflections of its beam dancing around
the room.

“I know you can’t go to the dance but that
doesn’t mean that the dance can’t come to you, right?” Mark
smiled.

Katie’s face glowed with excitement as her
eyes welled. “Yes,” was the only response she could muster through
her overwhelming emotions as she leapt forward and threw her arms
around the amazing man before her.

“I really hope you two didn’t just get
engaged,” Phil spoke from the doorway with a smile.

“Daddy,” Katie let go of Mark and took a
step back.

“It’s okay,” he approved the show of
affection. “I’d say he earned that one.”

Katie just smiled as Mark put down the
flashlight and took her hand.

Staring at the young couple, Phil dreaded
what he was about to do but realizing that his little girl was
growing up, he felt confident in his decision. “Shouldn’t you be
getting ready?” he asked his daughter.

“What do you mean?” Katie questioned,
confused.

“The dance. It starts soon. Shouldn’t you be
getting ready?”

Her lips finding even more elasticity to
expand the already ear to ear smile on her face, “Really?” she
squealed.

Phil just smiled and nodded as his daughter
traded Mark’s hand for a running hug with him.

“Thank you Daddy. I love you so much. Thank
you.”

“And I love you, now hurry up. You don’t
want to keep him waiting,” he whispered in her ear.

With one last squeeze, she released her grip
and turned back to Mark. “Just give me ten minutes, fifteen
tops.”

“I’ll keep him entertained downstairs while
you get ready,” Phil motioned for Mark to join him.

“Daddy, be nice.”

“What? I’m always nice,” Phil grinned as
Mark slipped past him, into the hall and the door swung shut.

FORTY-SEVEN

Staring at the caged clock on the wall, all Derek
could think about was Sarah and her sister throwing things into a
suitcase and loading up the car for their impromptu trip. More
likely though, Sarah was in the middle of an argument with her
father, trying to convince him of the unbelievable truth that was
the last couple of days. All he could hope was that she would have
better luck getting through to him than he had.

“Almost time,” a voice suddenly arose to his
back.

Turning, Derek’s heart dropped. Sitting on
the bench on the other side of the cell, holding the same hunting
knife on his lap that he’d used to carve up Mrs. Tillmore, sat
Jason. Beside him, passed out on the bench, was the disheveled man
the cops had brought in only twenty minutes earlier and who had
since been filling what had been a peacefully silent cell with
eardrum rattling bouts of snoring.

“Did I snore like that when we were
roommates?” Jason asked.

Derek didn’t answer.

“What, no hello?” Jason smiled.

“You son of a—,” Derek took a step toward
him.

“—Ah ah,” Jason lifted his finger as his
other hand moved the knife from his lap to a precarious position
over the throat of the sleeping man; the tip of the blade resting
ever so delicately against his Adam’s apple as he playfully twirled
it back and forth between his fingers.

Derek stopped. “What the hell do you
want?”

“An apology for one.”

“An apology!?” Derek snapped, realizing how
well his voice carried in his concrete surroundings. There was no
point in alerting the officers upstairs. If he called to them,
yelling that the killer was in his cell, Jason would just disappear
and he’d be made to look even more crazy than he already did.

“Yes, an apology,” Jason insisted.

“I’m sorry you’re an asshole.”

“Not exactly what I was looking for,” Jason
shook his head.

“Well sorry to disappoint you. How about you
settle for a simple fuck you then.”

“Derek. Derek, Derek, Derek. So vulgar,”
Jason continued to spin the knife, the man’s skin twisting beneath
the blade ever so slightly. “Then again, what else should I expect
from a baby killer?”

He didn’t think his heart could fall any
further from his chest, but now he wouldn’t have been surprised to
look down and find both his heart and stomach lying on the cold
grey floor beside him.

“Surprised? How’d I know?” Jason guessed at
what his former friend was thinking.

Derek didn’t have a response.

“I was there. Remember? Sure you do. It was
only about…,” looking at where his watch would have been if he wore
one. “That’s right, we don’t really use watches anymore do we?” he
joked, knowing that Derek, like most of their generation, relied
solely on his cell phone for just about every bit of daily
information. “How are you getting by without it?” Jason smiled.

“I’ve managed.”

“I’m sure you have. You always do.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that no matter what unfortunate
situation good old Derek finds himself in, he always seems to come
out on top.”

Staring at Jason, Derek had no idea what he
was talking about, but was sure that he’d elaborate.

“He sleeps halfway through a midterm after
an all night rager and still manages to ace the test in the twenty
minutes he has remaining. Even after getting his ass beat by a
girl’s much larger, linebacker boyfriend, he still manages to take
the girl home and not only does he fuck her for the next three
weeks, but he also receives a hefty, ‘I’m sorry,’ check from the
athletic department to ensure that the incident never found its way
to a court room or the media. And my favorite,” Jason chuckled, “He
gets stranded twenty three years in the past and what does he
do?…No, he doesn’t find himself in jail or living on the streets
with no real identity, other than the one he shares with the child
version of himself—”

“—Jason, what are you talking about? I am in
jail.”

“Only because I chose to put you here. Do
you want to know what I’m really talking about? Her.”

“Who?”

“Who do you fucking think? Her. Sarah. That
bitch you’ve been running around with trying to figure out how to
stop me.”

He still had no clue what Jason was talking
about, but he didn’t like Sarah being brought up in the
conversation.

“You think I just ditched you here and
forgot all about you?” Jason continued. “No. While I spent the next
two years trying to harness the full potential of my gift, I still
had to use the machine and while it somewhat limited my ability to
travel to any point I desired, it did get better. I continued to
find minor tweaks in the programming that broadened my options when
it came to jump points. I used those advancements to check in on
you from time to time; a year after I left you here, two years,
then five, ten, you get the point. And do you know what the common
element was every time I watched you?”

Derek had a guess.

“Her. Every time, there she was, right by
your side, devoted and as loving as a wife could be.”

“Wife?” Derek asked surprised.

“And two rat kids,” Jason added.

Derek didn’t know what to think. He knew he
had strong feelings for Sarah and he suspected that she felt
something for him, but he never would have guessed that she’d be
the one he’d finally settle down with, especially given the
extremely odd manor in which they’d met.

“It was then that I realized that, no matter
what I did to you, you would always find a way to turn it around
and show how much better you were than me.”

“Jason, I don’t think I’m—“

“—And then you had to go and do it,” Jason
interrupted.

Derek was again confused.

“Sure, I might have pushed you to take such
a drastic measure but I never had any intention of harming you. As
much as I’ve always hated you for being smarter and more popular
and better looking, I would’ve never done what
you
tried to
do.”

“Jason, you killed those people. You were
going to kill Sarah’s sister.”

“Oh, I still am. I assure you of that. But I
never would have killed you. And as much as I might want to right
now, I still don’t think I have it in me to kill my lifelong
friend.”

Though still worried about Katie and
whomever else might be on Jason’s list, Derek breathed a sigh of
relief as something in Jason’s eyes told him that he was telling
the truth.

“Jason, you—“

“—do you love her yet?”

“Jason—“

“—Do you love her?” Jason insisted.

“I don’t know, I—“

“—I sure hope so, because I can’t wait to
see the look in your eyes when I cut out her heart,” Jason sneered,
raising the knife into the air over the snoring man.

“No!” Derek leapt toward Jason just as he
disappeared, the knife remaining behind, falling through the air
and sticking into the bench, millimeters from the sleeping man’s
throat.

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