Head Rush

Alex McGrath
Head Rush

For more writing from me
Check out the 1st chapter of my novel;
"All the Same Songs" @
alexiswriting.blogspot.com
(get the ebook for $2.99, paperback for $12.99)

I had been waiting to do this for a decade and a half, ever since I was fourteen. Ever since the first time I heard about you. It’s not that I couldn’t find the time in all those years, it just took me that long to work up the nerve.

I dreamt about it, awake and sleeping. I did research. I even practiced. I acted it out in my basement, over and over, part by part, exactly how it would go, saying my lines and everything. Every time I’d nail the whole sequence, it would ease my obsession a little. Make me feel like I was getting somewhere. Until I could do it for real, I needed that. 99% planning, 1% execution. I guess most important things are that way. There were times when I’d try to forget the whole thing, because I was scared, of what would happen, but, whenever I’d get like that I just thought of you and it went away.

When that much time goes by, between the moment you first conceive of an idea, and the day you actually make it reality, you know then what it means to be sure about a thing. That’s why they say ‘sleep on it.’ I guess I, ‘lived on it.’

When the time was getting close, after I had finally picked a date, I couldn’t even control when I thought about it anymore. I was starting to imagine it while I ate, while I showered, while I drove, and every night after work while I watched the news. Whenever I watch the news I’m really just hoping to hear about you again. But in a way, I’m glad I never have. Right before I fell asleep those last twenty or thirty nights, I’d kiss your picture, and say to myself, "Terry, you know that you have to do this."

I don’t even know where to mail this, but it’s something I had to write down. At least for myself. It’s sort of embarrassing, but over the years I’ve had so many hundreds of imaginary conversations with you. I’ll picture you standing right there in front of me and I’ll talk out loud. I think writing a letter is at least more… normal.

It’s amazing how easy it was to set the whole thing up. They have a million ads for it these days, on the computer. I say a million, like it’s hyperbole, but I guess there are probably many more than that. I can’t even begin to think about the scope of it all. It would drive me crazy. When you’re looking for something online, even if it is very particular, and you think you’re all alone, the internet will find and introduce to you, your new long lost best friends.

I made the plans at the library, so there wouldn’t be any problems. So they couldn’t trace it back to me. I thought you’d appreciate the irony in that. I bet you’re smiling right now. The guy in charge went by the handle ‘King Solomon.’ Perfect right? I wish you had been there to laugh with me about how absurd that was.

After I was done, the next day, when I came back and finalized it, I logged off and took a minute to look around at all the people.

"Maybe he’s in here right now," I thought.

When the big day came, I briefly considered asking someone to take me over, in case my nerves weren’t working right. In case I was jumpy. But I figured, if I couldn’t even drive there, then I couldn’t handle doing it at all. I couldn’t have anyone tagging along anyway though, and I knew that… besides, the fear was good for me. It kept me on top of things. Alert.

All the times I imagined that day, it was always Winter. I think I needed it that way. Maybe that’s why I waited those extra few months at the end.

All the times I imagined that day, I never really thought about what to wear. I was going to buy something especially for it, but, that would’ve been kind of suspicious. I wore the type of thing I’d wear on any date.

"I won’t be in these long anyway," I thought.

I got to that rotten dumpster of a motel just before six. Just as the sun was disappearing completely. Solomon had told me to wait in my car and call him first. In place of a ring, like a normal person would have, he had some stupid song from the radio playing in my ear while I waited. I didn’t even know you could do that.

"What’s happenin’?"

"Hey, it’s me. Bobby."

"Bobby hey, good to hear from you. How ya doin’?"

"I’m here."

"Cool. Room 652. Six, five, two."

And he hung up.

We were only on the line for twenty seconds but I’ve never wanted to wrap up a phone call so badly in my life.

I took my time walking up the stairs, the way I always do when I know something good is waiting for me up ahead. I was breathing out of my mouth, filling the air with the fake cigarette smoke of my warm breath. They say smoking calms you.

I walked up there the same way I used to walk up to my ex-wife’s apartment, when we were first dating. I never told her about you, and now I probably never should. It would probably help a lot of things make sense to her, but you don’t tell people about something like this. Unless you really want to get arrested. Maybe I’ll write her a letter about the whole thing too. I’ll put it in my Will.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Who’s it?"

"Bobby."

Just like I’d practiced. No stuttering, no hesitation, just, ‘Bobby.’

"Bobby who?"

"The Bobby that just called you."

The door opened a little, held back by a chain. Then, for real.

"Hey man, we got a lovely lady for you tonight. Please keep in mind that we do not accept checks or credit cards."

He held out his hand. We had already talked about this. About everything. I would give him the money, up front, one hundred fifty, for two hours, and then he’d wait downstairs until the girl called him. It was simple. I looked over at her. Part of me expected to see you there. She looked like she was about the age you were.

I gave Solomon my three 50’s.

"One, two, three… Nadia. Come meet Bobby. …There. Look how pretty she is. Youngest one I got. Just like you wanted."

"Yes. Great."

She wouldn’t really look at me. It was better that way.

When I stabbed Solomon it took him by surprise, just like it had to. Then he started cursing at me. I didn’t try and stab him 87 times, like you always hear about… I knew long ago that I’d only have the stomach for one good one. With the blade stuck deep in his chest I got behind him and squeezed his neck until he was gone. I didn’t let myself think about what I was doing, it was all muscle memory. The practice taking over. I stayed on him until I knew he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

Nadia hadn’t made a sound, thank God. That was one thing I couldn’t plan for, no matter how many months I’d had. You need some luck. I know you already know that. When your mother rescued you, she was there because she’d come back for the sunglasses she’d forgotten. Not everything on the news is depressing. I can’t even think about what would have happened if it had been cloudy out that day.

I looked over at her. She was terrified. Eyes enormous and mouth wired shut. I was breathing out of my mouth again.

"We’re going to get you out of here," I told her. "You don’t have to do this anymore."

I had shaved my head, in case it mattered, but just to be safe I took out the pouch I brought, and dumped the foreign coins and the hair strands I’d collected.

As I stood up and started over towards Nadia I got this tremendous head rush. Like I’d tried to get up out of bed real fast. I couldn’t even see for a second.

"Not now…"

I shook it off, and put Solomon in the closet. Somehow we got out of there and downstairs to the car.

I looked over at Nadia. She was looking straight ahead, hands in her lap. I had the car running, and my hands at ten and two, but I could not figure out what the hell to do with my automobile.

I started thinking about what would happen if the cops found me. I imagined them throwing me in jail. Me. As the bad guy.

"Maybe I should’ve gone to them," I thought. "That’s what they’re for."

I kept staring at my hands. This was not part of the plan. I had not practiced it this way. When I rehearsed it, right before we drove away, I’d say to the girl, ‘I don’t think they’ll be trying too hard to solve that one.’ When I had killed Solomon, I barely managed to avoid having a heart attack.

I started to wonder what it would be like the next time I saw my mother, or the next time I saw the family, at Thanksgiving. I thought about what Sasha from the office would think. My body felt as frozen as the ice outside.

Finally, I thought about you again, and I imagined what you would think, and say.

You told me, ‘Drive. Just drive.’

I dropped Nadia off exactly half a block away from the police station. I told her precisely what to say once she got in there.

"You tell them, ‘I was forced into prostitution. Some stranger just rescued me. I need a place to go now.’ Ok sweetie?"

I put my hand on her shoulder and asked again, real softly.

"Ok?"

She nodded, still looking straight ahead.

I let her out, and drove away, down the street, going the speed limit, like nothing had happened. When I saw Nadia on the news that night, I cried. I pictured you and your Mom smiling.

I’m sorry I’ll never meet you. Maybe it’s better that way.

For more writing from me
Check out the 1st chapter of my novel;
"All the Same Songs" @
alexiswriting.blogspot.com
(get the ebook for $2.99, paperback for $12.99)

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