THE DEVIL
YOU KNOW

“What’s that all over your clothes, Sidney? Is that blood?”

Sidney Rosenthal stood dazed and silent in the doorway of the cozy, two-bedroom, Forest Hills, New York, apartment he had shared with his wife, Helen, for the last 14 years.

He nervously ran his fingers over the dog-eared copy of The Invisible Man, by H.G. Wells, in his right hand, fanning the pages repeatedly with his thumb. He could feel the congealed blood on the cover as he moved his index finger across the title, completely unaware of what his wife had just asked him. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to focus before looking down at his clothing and the briefcase in his left hand, all covered with red splatters. It seemed like he’d walked right out of some kind of psychotic Jackson Pollock painting.

“Will you get in here before the neighbors think I’m married to some kind of serial killer?” Helen Rosenthal shouted, visibly annoyed as she pulled her husband into the apartment, quickly scanning the hallway outside for anyone who might have seen him. “That’s the last thing I need.”

“Yes, dear,” Sidney mumbled as he dropped his briefcase next to the coat rack just inside the door.

“Where did all that blood come from?” Helen asked. “What happened to you? What foolishness have you gotten yourself into this time? Are you listening to me, Sidney Rosenthal? What is wrong with you?” She peppered him with questions, not giving him a chance to answer even one of them. It didn’t register with Sidney that none of her questions included, “Are you all right?”

He absentmindedly walked to the end of the narrow hallway, making a right into the kitchen before sitting at the table, taking his familiar red vinyl chair across from the refrigerator. It was where he’d eaten more meals than he could remember; a place that should garner an air of familiarity and safety, but it seemed completely alien to him now. He placed the book on the table and stared out the window located over the kitchen sink to the right of the Frigidaire.

“What in God’s name is wrong with you, Sidney?” Helen yelled as she entered the kitchen. “Why don’t you answer me?”

The disoriented man slowly gazed up at his wife, but she seemed a stranger to him too. How did I get here? he wondered to himself.

Both Sidney and Helen Rosenthal were native New Yorkers, growing up in Forest Hills and Kew Gardens, Queens, respectively. Without knowing it, they’d spent their early twenties working just three blocks apart in Midtown Manhattan. Sidney toiled at the accounting firm of Weinstein and Goldman while Helen climbed the management ladder at Parkhurst National Bank. They’d been introduced one Sunday afternoon in October 1999. Sidney desperately wanted to watch his beloved N.Y. Yankees in the playoffs, but instead was dragged to Bergdorf-Goodman by his mother, Florence. To this day, he still believed that “bumping into” Helen was meticulously planned by both women, though neither would ever admit it. The truth was that Sidney and Helen’s entire courtship was probably orchestrated by the two of them, right down to the moment he proposed one fall evening, after a sumptuous meal at Tavern on the Green and a walk in Central Park. Having grown up with his overbearing and somewhat tyrannical mother as his sole parent, Sidney never gave it a second thought.

In fact, he felt he’d hit the jackpot by marrying Helen. After all, she was something of a prize catch: beautiful, intelligent, driven, and capable. Since their wedding, Helen had maintained her looks, standing at five foot, five inches tall with toned legs and dark wavy hair she wore to her narrow shoulders. Helen was buxom for a thin, petite woman, and the flair of her hips and shapely bottom caused many a man’s pulse to quicken. Her deep green eyes, full lips, and sharp tongue kept everyone’s attention at dinner parties. It was painfully obvious to anyone who knew her that she took great pride knowing that, at 41 years old, she still caught the eyes of passing men each day on her way to work.

Helen had absolute surety that her beauty and sex appeal still shined brightly. For Sidney, that reality was hallow succor since she’d become even more domineering than the elder Mrs. Rosenthal had ever been. She knew what she wanted out of life and pursued it with the tenacity of a pit bull on amphetamines. Over the years, Sidney began to feel like nothing more than a cog in her machine, a means to her end.

Sidney was now 43 years old but wasn’t holding up as well as his wife. His face was haggard, his hair thinning and the paunch around his waist was more prominent all the time. Most days, he wore a hangdog look. Any zest for life he’d once had was slowly sucked out of him by his mother, his wife and the miserable excuse for an existence he sloughed his way through on a daily basis. He sometimes envied the heart attack that killed his father when Sidney was just a boy.

The only relief from the drudgery of his daily reality came in the form of books, movies and TV. Each night after taking care of Helen’s ever- growing litany of demands, Sidney would park himself in his recliner, grab a cold beer and lose himself in the various adventures of the fictional characters he adored and fervently wished he could be.

“Sidney!” bellowed Helen. “Are you even listening to me?”

That final ear-shattering shout broke Sidney from his reverie. He looked at his wife and smiled half-heartedly. “Yes, of course, honey. I’m just a little shook up is all.”

“No shit,” his wife replied. “What the hell happened to you? Your clothes, the way you’re ignoring me, not to mention you’re almost 40 minutes late for dinner!” Before Sidney could respond, she added, “If you think I’m going to warm up the Chinese food for you, you’re out of your mind. It’s not my fault you can’t get home in time to eat like a normal human being. Honestly, I don’t know what goes through that head of yours sometimes!”

“I’m sorry, dear,” Sidney said dejectedly. “I don’t mean to upset you. It’s just...you see...well, there was an incident on the bus. I – I – didn’t know –”

Helen sighed dramatically, went to the refrigerator, retrieved a bottle of spring water and slowly sat in the chair opposite her husband. She looked at him as if he was a puppy who’d just peed on her new shoes. She took a sip of water, then said sternly, “Out with it. What did you do this time?”

Sidney stared into the eyes of the women he’d vowed to spend the rest of his life with and saw nothing but contempt. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever loved him, if she ever liked him even a little bit. All he wanted was some time to calm down, maybe drink a beer and gather his thoughts before explaining, but he knew better than to delay any longer. His wife was never patient with him and it was always better to get it over with. For an instant, he thought about making up a false story just to avoid her inevitable haranguing, but he knew from bitter experience that lying only made things worse. Helen somehow always knew when he wasn’t telling her the whole truth.

“Well, it all started out normal enough. The 5:15 bus was jam- packed, like it usually is on Monday, so much so that I couldn’t even get on,” Sidney began, as Helen rolled her eyes at his failings. She had urged him for years to be more aggressive during his daily commute. “Anyway, as luck would have it, there was another bus immediately after that one. It was pretty cool because me and the other six or seven people who couldn’t get on the 5:15 were the only ones on it. We had it all to ourselves. I even got to sit by the window in the back row all by myself.” Sidney grinned slightly at the memory of that simple victory.

“Is there a point coming anytime soon?” Helen said, her upper lip curling in disgust.

“Yes, dear,” Sidney responded, losing the grin. “So I’m sitting there reading my book, looking forward to getting home and having dinner with you. We were a couple of miles past the 59^th Street Bridge when all of a sudden there is this loud scream at the front of the bus. I look up and this guy is standing in the aisle and he’s shaking, well, convulsing really. I thought he was having some kind of seizure, but then – then...I – then...,” Sidney looked down at his stomach as his voice trailed off.

“Then what?!” Helen yelled, causing Sidney to jump. “Spit it out already! I don’t have all night!”

“He changed,” Sidney said dispassionately.

“Changed? What do you mean changed? Changed how?” Helen responded, still annoyed.

“He changed. He changed into something else...some kind of creature,” Sidney said in an even tone. Helen ran her fingers through her hair and made the face she always made when she thought he was lying to her. “I’m serious, Helen. This guy turned into something that looked like part crocodile, part man.”

“Are you drunk? Is that it?” Helen said, starting to get up.

“No!” Sidney shouted, startling her with his forcefulness. She reflexively sat back down. “Listen to me, honey. I know how it sounds, but it happened. It did. This guy changed right there in the bus, growing and, I don’t know...I guess morphing into something else.” Sidney put his hands flat on the table and breathed deeply, searching for the courage to continue.

After a few moments, he said in a low voice, “Afterwards, he was at least seven feet tall with scaly skin, big dark eyes, razor-sharp claws and a crocodile snout with large, sharp teeth like the creatures in those Alien movies. There was some kind of thick, yellow liquid dripping from its mouth, I don’t know what it was. Venom maybe? Everyone on the bus was freaking out, screaming and panicking, trying to get away, but the guy – he – he –” Sidney swallowed hard before continuing, “he killed them all, Helen. Tore them apart. He killed everyone...everyone but me.” His hands were shaking now, his lips trembling as he closed his eyes tightly, trying to erase the images from his mind.

Helen Rosenthal stared at her husband for a long time. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow condescendingly. “What kind of a moron do you take me for, Sidney?” she screamed. “Of all the absurd, idiotic, harebrained stories you’ve ever told, this has to take the cake!”

“It’s true! It’s true, I tell you!” Sidney responded, his voice rising. “Turn on the news. I’m sure there’s something about it on there! For God’s sake, Helen, seven people died! Why would I lie about something like that?”

Helen stood up. “Okay, Sidney. I’ll play your little game. Let’s see if there’s anything on the news.” She strode purposefully into the living room, grabbed the remote and clicked on the 42-inch flat screen sitting atop the entertainment center. The voice of Channel 2 news anchor Ernie Aquilar could be heard as the screen came into focus.

“– bizarre happenings tonight in Queens where police say a wild animal climbed on board a city bus and attacked seven people. Chad Williams is on the scene. Chad?”

“Thank you, Ernie. Bizarre happenings indeed as details are still coming in at this hour. Seven people dead tonight as an unknown feral animal attacks them on a Q60 Queens-bound bus. At this time, authorities aren’t releasing the names of the victims or what type of animal caused the incident. They are, however, saying that whatever it was that climbed aboard this city bus and attacked these people was killed at the scene. Officers have assured me that there is no need for panic as the situation is well in hand here in Sunnyside. I will continue my investigation and have a full report on the 11 o’clock news this evening. Back to you, Ernie.”

“All of us here at Channel 2 Action News send our condolences out to the families of the victims. We’ll be right back with the latest Paragon sighting after these messages –” Helen clicked off the TV. She stood there motionless for a few moments before slowly turning back towards her husband.

“That proves nothing!” she said, eyes full of fury. “In fact, all it does prove is that there’s no way you could’ve been on that bus! This is an all-time low, Sidney! How could you use that tragedy to make yourself look good? What kind of a man are you? It’s despicable!”

“Make myself look good? How in the world am I doing that?” Sidney said, clearly frustrated.

“What, like you’re not trying to imply that you saved the day on that bus? That you’re the only survivor because, what, you somehow managed to kill that animal with your bare hands or better yet, with your briefcase?” Helen chided him, her voice rising in a mocking fashion.

“Absolutely not! I’m saying no such thing! I don’t know what happened, but I know I was scared shitless and I was sure I was going to die, too!” Sidney shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. He looked away from his wife’s damning gaze, his body shaking. He once again stared out the window, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself. After a few moments, he said quietly, “I didn’t do a damn thing, Helen. I sat in that seat and watched all those people die. I didn’t do anything. I’m a coward, a useless coward, not a hero.” Tears filled his eyes and he turned his body away from his wife so she wouldn’t see.

“Then how did you manage to survive?” Helen asked, softer but still accusatory.

“I don’t know. Luck?” Sidney said, shrugging without turning around. “But I saw it all, Helen. Every bit of it. I had a ringside seat to that slaughter.” Sidney finally turned back towards his wife, picked up the bottle of spring water she’d left on the kitchen table and, with shaking hands, took a long drink. His hands were trembling so badly that water spilled down his cheeks. After wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he continued, “After he...changed, he attacked the woman sitting two rows from the front. That thing ripped her right arm completely off and started gnawing on it like it was an ear of corn. It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. Her screams were horrible, but they were almost drowned out by the sounds of that thing eating her arm.”

“The bus driver came at him with a baseball bat. I guess he used it for protection on his route or something. He swung it right into the side of the creature’s head, but it just broke like a toothpick.

Before the poor driver could move, the monster ripped out his throat. Oh god, the blood was everywhere.” Sidney’s eyes glazed over as he remembered every horrifying moment. “Three other passengers ran to the rear door and tried to pry it open, but the creature moved so fast. It attacked them, ripping their bodies apart. One of the passengers was thrown toward the back and I could see his entire torso had been ripped open...his intestines were flying behind him like the tail on a kite. The body landed right next to me in the back row with a sickening thud. His eyes were still open and I just stared at him, frozen in my seat. I might have been in shock, I – I really don’t know.”

Sidney took another swig of water and swallowed hard. “By the time I looked up again, the monster had already killed an elderly man who’d tried to run to the front of the bus. I could see his mutilated body lying across a row of seats. His eyes were still open and he looked terrified. The creature started walking toward me, but stopped when it noticed a young girl a few rows up who was trying to hide on the floor under the seats. He reached down and...and...and ripped her head completely off, sucking the blood out of the skull like a kid eating the cream from a Twinkie. She was so young...couldn’t have been more than 21.”

“Finally he turned to me and...I – I was so afraid, Helen. I couldn’t look up. I just stared at my book and wished over and over that I could be like The Invisible Man...that I could just disappear from that moment. When I finally looked up, the monster was right there, no more than a foot from me. It just stared at me, stared through me while sniffing the air around me. Suddenly there was a blinding light from the front of the bus and I had to put my arms up to shield my eyes from it. I prayed someone had come to save me somehow. Then, I heard a strange sound like a giant water balloon bursting, but when I tried to see what caused it, the light completely blinded me. By the time I could finally see again, the monster was gone and I was covered in blood. I – I – I think it exploded. It must have...I don’t know, Helen. I just don’t know.” Sidney lowered his head and covered his face with his hands, still shaking from telling his tale.

“How did you get back home?” Helen said with as much compassion as she could muster.

“All I did was get off the bus and take the subway,” Sidney responded. “I walked away without anyone stopping me. It was weird. Nobody looked at me, talked to me or anything. The whole way home, nobody even asked about my clothes or asked me what happened. It’s like no one noticed me at all.”

When does anyone? Helen thought to herself. Not much to notice. Then she said out loud, “You didn’t wait for the police?”

Sidney looked up. “No, I didn’t. I just wanted to get home.” He fidgeted in his chair before asking, “Do you think I should call them? Tell them what happened?”

“No! Absolutely not!” Helen shouted, her voice once again cold and hard. “The last thing I need is you telling your crazy stories about a monster on the city bus. Everyone will think I married a lunatic. No way, Sidney! You are going to do exactly what I say and forget any of this ever happened. If it ever actually did.”

Sidney looked down again, staring at the book on the table, fixated on the blood splatter just above the title. “Oh, it happened, Helen,” he said, forlornly. “I wish to God it didn’t, but it did. It truly did.”

Helen let out another big sigh before moving toward her husband. She put her hands on his shoulders, massaged them a little and leaned in so her mouth was close to his left ear. She said softly, “Why don’t you take a nice hot shower and get yourself cleaned up. You know Monday is my bridge club, so I’ve got to leave soon, but I’ll put your clothes in the washer and clean your briefcase for you. Then when you get out, grab yourself a beer and we’ll put on one of your movies. I’ll even warm up that Chinese food for you before I leave, ok? I got you the Moo Shu Pork you like so much.” She gave him a peck on the cheek before adding, “Just relax and watch your movie and forget about all this craziness. That’s my Sidney.” She patted his shoulders for emphasis as Sidney nodded in mute agreement.

Two hours later, Sidney Rosenthal sat in his recliner staring straight ahead, his eyes unfocused. His only movement was the repeated shaking of his head back and forth in disbelief. The Moo Shu Pork on the TV tray hadn’t been touched and the Miller Genuine Draft in his hand was still full, but now warm and flat. There was barely five minutes left in the movie Helen had started for him before leaving the apartment. Usually he hung on every word, but tonight Tomorrow Never Says Goodbye, starring his favorite action hero, Mark LeClare as super-spy Jack Wylde in pitched battle with his arch-villain, Dr. Nefarius, had failed to be the panacea his wife hoped it would be. Instead, he kept reliving every moment of the bus ride, trying to make sense of the senseless; to reconcile his feelings of inadequacy and somehow make peace with his paralyzing fear.

Suddenly a huge explosion filled the TV screen, bathing the room with yellow and red light, breaking Sidney from his trance- like state. Despite himself, he began to watch the climax of the movie, having seen it so many times he knew it by heart. Sidney grinned as he watched the flaming debris cascade into the water surrounding Dr. Nefarius’s island lair. After a few moments, Jack Wylde surfaced from beneath the broiling depths, gasping for air. Immediately, he dove back beneath the water. Seconds later, he emerged holding an unconscious Athena, one of his enemy’s comely companions who’d succumbed to Wylde’s legendary charms the night before.

“Athena!” Wylde shouted frantically on the screen. “Don’t do this to me, darling! Today’s not your day to die.”

Quickly swimming to his 40-foot, Cobalt A40 Speedboat, the secret agent dragged the unconscious woman out of the water and onto the swimming deck of the watercraft. Wylde checked for a pulse and then began to give her CPR. Sidney leaned forward slightly in anticipation. After a few tense moments, Athena coughed up a mouthful of sea water and opened her eyes wide. Wylde looked down at her with a smile.

Sidney stared silently, mouthing the words along with the movie. “Welcome back,” Wylde said while brushing the hair off her face. “For a moment I thought you intended to break our date to see the sights of Paris. The city of lights wouldn’t be the same without you, my dear.”

“Oh, Jack,” Athena gushed before kissing him deeply. Sidney smiled broadly.

Just then another series of explosions rocked Nefarius’s fortress, causing Jack and Athena to break off their kiss. They sat on the edge of the boat, watching the villain’s plan to take over the world literally go up in smoke. The camera panned in for a close-up of the victorious agent. Sidney instinctively reached for his remote control.

“Nothing more for me to do here. On to the next adventure,” Jack Wylde said into the camera with a wink and a smile.

Sidney Rosenthal paused the DVD there. As he looked at the face on the screen, he couldn’t help but frown wistfully. “On to the next adventure,” he repeated dejectedly, fully aware that there were no adventures in his own life, only his repeated failings. If only he could be like Jack Wylde: confident, charming and always in control. If only he had half the courage as the fictitious super spy. Yeah, if only. Maybe then things would be different for him.

With a sigh, he turned off the TV, stood up from the recliner, picked up the uneaten plate of Chinese food and walked to the kitchen, shoulders slumped. He dumped the food into the garbage can, emptied the beer bottle into the sink and shuffled off to the bedroom. As he crawled into bed, the events of the day weighed heavily on him and he clutched the comforter tightly to his chest. He looked over at Helen’s empty side of the bed and wished she was there with him. The reality of what happened finally hit home and Sidney Rosenthal began to weep, feeling alone and unloved, until sleep eventually came.

The next morning, Sidney walked past the bus stop without slowing, having decided to take the subway to work for the foreseeable future. He had always preferred the bus since it allowed him a measure of solitude to lose himself in whatever book he was currently reading, but now he almost welcomed the maddening throng of humanity presented by the New York City Subway system. It somehow made him feel safer, more secure after his harrowing experience. Sidney longed to return to the monotony of his mundane existence, to get back into his daily routine and feel normal again. At least that’s what he’d been telling himself. However, once he got off the subway, his heart raced as he walked through Times Square, toward the building that housed the accounting firm of Weinstein and Goldman.

Every work day for the past 18 years, he had walked through the familiar revolving door leading to the lobby, stopped at the newsstand, bought the NY Post and his morning coffee before diligently undertaking his daily workload. Today, for some reason, he sped up and walked right past his place of employment. Filled with an unknown and growing anxiety, he wandered the streets of midtown for a few hours without any purpose, trying to calm himself.

Eventually, he ended up on 42^nd Street, heading toward 8^th Avenue. Without thinking, he stopped at the multiplex near the corner, bought a ticket for the next available movie, purchased a box of Milk Duds and a Sprite. Once inside the darkened theatre, he was finally able to steady himself and regain his composure. Sidney sat there in the dark all day watching other people do amazing and interesting things until it was time to head home from work.

The next two days, he repeated this process, not really knowing why. Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to walk through that revolving door, the feeling of dread growing in his chest the closer he got to it. So he spent his days in the movies, letting reality slip away 90 to 120 minutes at a time. Each night he went home to his wife for dinner like nothing was wrong. He didn’t have to lie because Helen had long since stopped asking about his day. As long as he was home on time, she left him alone. The two spouses ate in silence, the chasm between them growing larger every night. After cleaning up, Helen would give him a peck on the cheek and head out to some club meeting or other function, leaving Sidney to watch television in his recliner until bedtime. Each night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he vowed he would return to work in the morning but somewhere deep inside, Sidney longed for something else, something more.

On Friday morning, the despondent accountant walked past his workplace for the fourth day in a row, barely even glancing at the door, checking the movie times at the multiplex on his phone.

He was genuinely excited for the first time all week. There were several new releases today, so he didn’t have to sit through the same movies he’d already watched multiple times. As Sidney got to the entrance to the theatre, an elderly priest reached for the door just as he did.

“My apologies. Please, after you,” the priest said with a smile, holding the door open and gesturing for Sidney to enter before him. Sidney couldn’t quite place his accent. Italian maybe?

“Thanks,” Sidney said, nodding to the clergyman before hurrying inside.

Sidney rode the escalator up to the second floor after buying a ticket to the 10 a.m. showing of Search and Destroy, a high-octane action flick he’d seen the commercial for many times. At the concession counter, Sidney ordered a small popcorn along with his usual snacks before making his way to the designated theatre. He smiled ear to ear upon entering. Every seat was empty at that early hour. Nothing in this world was quite as satisfying as having the entire theatre to himself. He chose the middle seat of the back row, removing his coat and settling in for what he hoped would be an enjoyable movie experience. In this moment, for the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt completely at ease.

By the time the house lights dimmed, signaling the beginning of the previews, Sidney was still the only person in the theatre. He felt another wave of excitement as the “silence your cell phones” message played on the big screen. He nestled further down in his chair, putting his feet up on the seatback in front of him, and gleefully munched on his popcorn. Just then a man entered the theatre. From his vantage point, Sidney could see the solitary figure looking around slowly as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Oh well, Sidney thought with a sigh. One person won’t make much difference.

The man headed up the stairs to Sidney’s right, stopping at the first landing to scan the rows of empty seats. Sidney instinctively put his feet down and sunk lower in his seat. The stranger continued up the stairs and, by the time he was halfway from the top, Sidney started to feel uneasy. Where are you going? he thought to himself. Just pick a seat. The newcomer continued up the stairs until he reached the top. No, no, no...don’t sit near me, don’t sit near me, Sidney thought, now staring straight at the screen, not wanting to make eye contact and have this guy interpret it as an invitation to sit near him. The stranger moved down the row until he was a few seats from Sidney.

“Excuse me, my son, but would you mind if I sat here?” the man asked, beginning to remove his coat.

Sidney recognized the accent and saw it was the same priest who’d held the door for him outside the multiplex. “Uh, sure, father, if you want to, but there’s – um, there isn’t a shortage of seats, y’know.” Sidney gave him a weak smile as he gestured toward the front of the theatre.

“Oh, I know, but I guess I prefer a little company to sitting all alone, even if it’s just the proximity of another person,” the priest said. “If I’m bothering you, I apologize. I’ll find a seat somewhere else.” He frowned and began to turn away.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sidney said quickly, feeling bad. “Please, have a seat, father.” He moved his coat and briefcase from the seat to his right to the one on his left. “Forgive me. I guess we could all use a little company now and then.”

“Many thanks, my son. You are a good man,” the priest said, sitting down next to Sidney. “My name is Father Dodson, but my friends call me Nicholas. You decide which you prefer.” He smiled and extended his hand.

Sidney shook the priest’s hand, saying, “Don’t mention it, um... Father. I’m Sidney Rosenthal, but Sid works.”

“Sid it is then,” Dodson said, turning his gaze toward the screen. “This movie should be quite a thrill ride, don’t you think? I’ve been looking forward to seeing it all week.”

“Really?” Sidney asked. “I wouldn’t think holy guys like you were fans of the smash, bang type of movie.”

“Well, I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’ve always been a huge fan of this genre. My favorite is the Transporter series. And of course the Die Hard movies,” the priest replied in an excited tone. “Unfortunately, we don’t get the new releases where I’m from until months later.”

“Oh, where is that?” Sidney asked.

“The Island of Malta,” Father Dodson said. Seeing the confusion in Sidney’s eyes, he added, “It’s south of Sicily.”

“Oooh, I thought your accent was Italian,” Sidney said, smiling. “What brings you to The Big Apple, Father?” Sidney realized he wasn’t just making small talk. He was truly interested. Something about the priest garnered instant trust and a comfort level he didn’t have with most people.

“You mean besides a chance to see a new movie?” Dodson said with a chuckle. “I guess you could call it a recruiting trip.”

“Looking for a few God men?” Sidney retorted, pleased with his pun.

“Blessed are the pure of heart, for they will see God,” the priest replied good-naturedly. He took a package of Twizzlers out of his pocket before turning to Sidney with a more serious look. “But enough shop talk, Sid. If I may be so bold, you seem like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. If you need an ear, I’m here to listen. Would you care to talk about it, son?”

“I – I don’t know what you mean, Father. I’m just fine,” Sidney said, squirming in his seat.

“All right, Sid. If you say so. Forgive me for intruding. It’s just that I have some experience in offering a sympathetic ear and some understanding, but if you’re not ready to talk, I won’t push. Just remember, everyone needs someone to listen; everyone needs a friend.” Dodson was so serene and sincere that Sidney instantly felt terrible for lying.

“The movie is about to start,” Sidney said softly. “Maybe we should just watch it now.” He was unable to make eye contact with the clergyman.

“Yes. Perhaps that would be best. Again, my apologies, Sid.”

For the next half hour, try as he might, Sidney couldn’t focus on the movie. Father Dodson’s kind gesture of brotherhood had somehow opened the Pandora’s box of emotions he’d been trying to keep at bay all week. Instead of losing himself in the cartoon action on the screen, Sidney kept reliving the reality of that night on the bus. In his mind’s eye, he saw the carnage once more; the death, dismemberment but mostly, his own fear and cowardice.

It all played on a perpetual loop now: the screams, that girl’s arm, the intestines, the severed head and all that blood. He felt like he was drowning in it.

“I – I don’t mean to ruin the movie, but I guess I do need someone to talk to, Father Dodson,” Sidney said when he couldn’t take it any longer. “You see, I was involved in...there was an incident...something happened this week and I’ve tried to move past it, to just forget it, but I can’t, so I’ve been hiding in the movies every day. It’s all I can do to keep it together. If I didn’t come here all day, every day, I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t seem to get things back to normal. Nothing feels right anymore. Sometimes I think the world’s gone crazy, or maybe it’s that...I’m going crazy.”

“We all feel that way at times, Sid. Normal can be a somewhat subjective term, don’t you think? What exactly happened, my friend?” Dodson asked, still looking at the screen.

“I saw...I was...” Sidney stammered before sighing loudly and raising his gaze to the ceiling, trying not to cry. “Have you ever felt like you aren’t what you should be or...maybe that you’re less than you could be, less than you’re supposed to be?”

“Of course, I have. Most everyone has thoughts like those at one point or another. I think that’s part of the human condition,” the priest said, turning towards his new friend. “The important thing is to strive every day to be the best person you can be.”

“I never do that,” Sidney said immediately and a little too loudly. “I spend all my time wishing I was someone else, anyone else, that I could be someone better, stronger.” He took a deep breath and released it very slowly, trying to quell his growing emotions. When he spoke again, his tone was calm but strained. “Maybe that’s because I’ve spent my whole life trying to be what I thought I was supposed to be for everyone else: a good son, a good employee, a good husband. The punch line is that it never worked. Nobody’s ever thought I was even remotely good enough. I’ve been a complete failure at all those things.” Sidney gave a half-hearted chuckle at the joke that was his life.

“Now, don’t be too hard on yourself, Sid,” Father Dodson said, patting Sidney’s hand with his. “There is no rule book as to how a man should live his life. We all simply do the best we can.”

“That’s just it! I haven’t done the best I can! I haven’t even tried! I haven’t tried at all!” Sidney replied, his pent-up emotions once more overwhelming him. “All I do is hide from life, avoid actually living my life and I always take the easy way out. I never say what I truly feel or do one single thing that I want. I’m a loser and a coward and I didn’t deserve to survive when everyone else died!” Tears streamed down his face as he muttered, “Why am I still alive? Why? Why me? I don’t deserve it.”

Father Dodson put his arms around the distraught man, hugging him in the darkened theatre. “Don’t say that, my friend. Each one of us at least deserves life. That is God’s gift to us all.” The dam inside him burst and Sidney broke down completely. After four or five minutes, the tears abated enough for him to wipe his eyes on the napkins he’d taken from the concession stand. Father Dodson could tell he was embarrassed by his outburst.

“Don’t you see, Sidney? Maybe there is a reason you survived,” the priest said gently. He grabbed the sobbing man by his shoulders. “You’ve been given a precious gift. You have a chance to do things differently, to change who you are. Most of us don’t get that opportunity. It’s possible you were spared because you have a purpose you haven’t fulfilled yet.”

Sidney looked up at the other man, still sniffling.

“If it’s like you said and you’ve never really tried, then you’ve never failed either,” Dodson said with a gleam in his eye. “Your potential is unlimited in that way. No matter what happens, you can get through it because you have a clean slate. You don’t have any of the baggage that can weigh a person down. None of the regrets or misgivings about past choices, because you’ve allowed others to make the important decisions for you. You simply have been waiting for a chance, for your opportunity. This is that opportunity, Sidney.” Father Dodson smiled broadly before adding in a firm tone, “You can be anything you want. You can be anyone you want.”

Sidney felt a calm come over him. It began in his chest then quickly spread throughout his entire body, clearing his mind and energizing him. Somehow when he looked into the priest’s eyes, he saw the simple truth for the first time in his life: it was all up to him. He was the master of his own fate. He could take control of his life and be someone different, someone better. He, Sidney Rosenthal from Kew Gardens, Queens, could be everything he’d always wished he could be. He knew it beyond any doubt, believed it with all his heart.

“Thank you, Fath...thank you, Nicholas,” Sidney said with a smile as he shook the other man’s hand. “You’ve done me a great service. Maybe one day I can return the favor but right now, I have to go. I need to go.” He grabbed his coat and briefcase before bounding down the stairs two at a time. Within seconds, he’d disappeared through the doors leading out of the theatre.

“You’re very welcome, Sid,” Father Dodson whispered serenely. “I know you’ll do great things soon.”

Sidney hurried through the busy streets of Manhattan, almost sprinting at times. Something had clicked for him in that theatre and, despite feeling an urgency he’d never experienced before, he also felt in rhythm with the world for the first time in his life. That synchronicity seemed to slow everything down as he weaved his way through the crowds of people, allowing him to see three or four moves ahead, like a star running back breaking through the defensive line. He was lighter now too, completely unburdened, not just from the bus incident, but from every weight he’d ever allowed to be thrust upon him during his long, torturous life. As he reached the corner of 44^th and 8^th, he dumped his briefcase into one of the city’s overflowing garbage cans without breaking stride.

Minutes later, he was on the street that housed his longtime employer, Weinstein and Goldman Accounting. He sped up, his excitement increasing with each step, as he got closer to that familiar revolving door. Sidney burst into the lobby like a guided missile rushing past the security desk, newsstand and flower shop on his way to the elevator banks. When the doors opened on the 16^th floor, he went through the office’s outer doors heading straight for the cubicle where he’d spent the better part of his adult life. Just like every other day, no one bothered to greet him or ask him where he’d been all week. Nobody cared enough about Sidney Rosenthal to exchange a simple pleasantry. No “Hey, what’s the good word, Sid?” or “How ya doin’, buddy?” No, today like every other day, he got nothing but apathy from his coworkers. This time it didn’t bother him in the least. He casually looked around his work place and realized there was nothing for him there, nothing he needed anymore, nothing he wanted.

“My name is Sidney Rosenthal and I quit!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, startling everyone. He strode purposefully toward the door as everyone watched. Sure, now everyone notices me, he thought to himself. Well, too little, too late, assholes. Just before he exited through the doors, he turned and added, “And you can all kiss my ass!” Outside on the street, he took a deep breath and smiled happily. He felt good. Really good. Better than he’d felt since he was a little kid, before his dad passed away.

Twenty-five minutes later, having stopped at a street vendor for his first two hot dogs with sauerkraut in 17 years, Sidney arrived at the main offices for Parkhurst National Bank. This office was the very first branch ever opened back in 1967 and, while it still offered three tellers for customers’ banking needs, it was now used mostly as the corporate headquarters for New York State. Helen had been promoted to VP of Administration a little over two years ago but, as he was just beginning to realize, Sidney had never set eyes on the place before today. He was beginning to understand just how much of a spectator he’d allowed himself to become in his own life.

As he walked through the front doors, Sidney could see the entire inside of the bank. It was one incredibly large room consisting of a 25-foot high ceiling with two distinct portions separated almost completely down the middle. On the left were the tellers, secure behind their bulletproof, clear, glass dividers. Their work area was much smaller than the length of the room, undoubtedly because the vault was located through the heavily fortified door at the far end of their work stations. Directly in front of the tellers was a waiting area with two counters filled with various banking forms and those pens chained down to prevent theft. There was the requisite roped area sending all customers through a maze of left turns to maximize and coordinate the waiting space. Sidney couldn’t help but notice the numerous security cameras positioned throughout the room to monitor every square inch of the place.

On the right side of the room was an office setting. It was completely surrounded by more glass, accessible only through a locked door, and further protected by a computerized key card entry system. Inside were a half dozen desks lined up two by two as well as other various office equipment. There were three doors along the right wall leading to other offices, presumably for the higher-ups. Some kind of meeting room was in the far back, most likely used for conferences and other gatherings, also completely enclosed in glass walls and doors. This place must be a bitch to clean, Sidney thought. Right in front of the door to the office section was a small desk and chair facing the street. On the desk was a clipboard filled with lined paper, a few pens and an out-of- date phone. A lone security guard stood nearby, dwarfed by an overgrown, 8-foot tall potted plant.

“Can I help you with something, sir?” the security guard asked as Sidney looked around for his wife. He was a gangly, redheaded man with oversized blue eyes and freckles all over his face and arms, made more prominent by the dark blue uniform he wore.

He appeared to be all sharp angles, his elbows, shoulders and knees protruding starkly through his clothing. The hat on his head was entirely too big, conjuring up images of a ginger Barney Fife. His name tag said “McDowell.”

“Hi, I’m Sidney Rosenthal,” Sidney said. “I’m here to see my wife, Helen.”

“Helen’s married?” the guard responded, his face scrunching with incredulousness.

“Yes, she is,” Sidney said curtly. “To me. For 15 years.”

The guard grimaced in embarrassment. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mr. Rosenthal. I didn’t mean no offense. I’m Timmy, by the way,” he said, extending his hand to shake, but Sidney just stared at him stoically. “Ah, um...well you see, it’s just that I’ve never seen you around and everybody loves Helen. I mean, she’s the best and so nice and I figured you would’ve gone to the office parties with her and everything.”

“What office parties?” Sidney asked, having no recollection of Helen ever telling him about any work gatherings.

“Oh, we have ’em every few months. It’s always at some swanky place. Everybody from the office goes,” Timmy said with a big smile. “Probably the Christmas party is the best with the tree and all the decorations and stuff. Last year, Helen even asked me to dance. Yes, sir, she did. Nobody’s ever done that before, but she just walked right up to me and asked me. It was real nice. Yeah, she’s the best.” Timmy was blushing now, his entire head getting redder by the second.

“I’m sure she is,” Sidney responded, beginning to wonder just how much his wife hadn’t told him. “Is she around, Timmy?”

“Um, I think so, Mr. Rosenthal. I’m not exactly sure. You see, I’m usually in the back of the office by the vault. My buddy, Carl, is the front guard. He’s a good guy, too. I only watch the front door when he’s on lunch break,” Timmy said, before whispering “Or if he’s gotta...well you know, if nature calls.”

Sidney began to wonder if Timmy was a little slow or if he was actually a transplant from a town like Mayberry. Either way, he didn’t want to be insensitive or insult the guard so he chose his next words carefully. “Do you think you could find out if she’s here, Timmy? I’d really appreciate it.”

“Oh, sure thing, Mr. Rosenthal. Just give me a second,” Timmy replied before moving to the desk and picking up the phone. He hit one of the extension buttons, but immediately hung up, looking confused. He ran his finger down the right side of the phone before finally hitting another button. He looked up at Sidney with a goofy grin as he waited for a response. After a 10 second conversation he hung up.

“Helen’s in the conference room right now, so I can’t let you in yet,” Timmy said. “All visitors have to be approved by the person they’re coming to see unless you’re on the list. Are you on the list? Did Helen know you were coming or was it a surprise?”

“It’s a surprise, but now I’m thinking that maybe I should wait ‘til she gets home later,” Sidney said.

“If you want, you could wait out here in the lobby with me or like you said, you could wait until you see her at home. Whatever you want,” Timmy said, trying to be helpful.

“Is that the conference room in the back?” Sidney asked.

“Sure is. You can see it from here. See?” the guard said, pointing to the back of the building. “Oh, look there’s Helen with everyone now.”

Sidney stared toward the back and saw the spacious conference room. Helen was at the head of a large dark table giving some kind of presentation to four other people, three men and one woman. Everyone was paying close attention to what she was saying, the woman taking notes in what looked like an oversized binder. There was an erasable white board behind her filled with words and numbers, a portable movie screen set up in the corner, and piles of different colored paper strewn across the table. Looking at his wife in her workplace made him sure coming there was a mistake. Informing her he quit his job in that setting was definitely the wrong thing to do. There was no telling how bad she’d take it.

“Are we cool, Mr. Rosenthal?” Timmy asked. “Really, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“We’re good, Timmy. Don’t give it a second thought, but could you do me a little favor? Don’t tell Helen I stopped by, okay?” Sidney said. “I’ve decided to surprise her with some big news once she gets home so I need you to help me keep it a secret. If she knew I was here, she might figure it out. Can you help me out, buddy?”

“Oh, sure, no problem. Wow, big news. That’s awesome, Mr. Rosenthal!” Timmy said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, the hot dogs I had a bit ago aren’t sitting quite right,” Sidney said as his stomach groaned. “Nature seems to be calling pretty loudly right now. Where’s the men’s room?”

“Right past the tellers, take a left and it’s the first door on the right,” the guard answered.

“Thanks again,” Sidney said. He quickly started walking toward the bathroom, noticing one of the bank customers looking at him. The customer was a tall, well-built man with long blonde hair and chiseled features, reminiscent of Scandinavian royalty or a Norse God. He had a strong air of familiarity about him so Sidney wondered if he was an actor or some other kind of celebrity. Whoever he was, he continued to stare a hole into Sidney as he walked by. What’s the matter, Sven? Never seen a Jew before? Sidney thought to himself, a little unnerved by the stranger’s unyielding gaze.

As he passed the last teller, Sidney had his first unobstructed view into the conference room so he stopped at the corner of the hallway to catch a glimpse of Helen again. The meeting seemed to be breaking up, so he watched his wife dismiss the others before beginning to gather the materials she’d used for her presentation. He still marveled at her enduring beauty. For a second, Sidney considered leaving the premises immediately so there was no chance she’d see him, but another large stomach noise convinced him otherwise.

Just before he turned toward the bathroom, he saw a male coworker come up to Helen and put his hand on her ass. She quickly brushed it away and chastised the man, but she didn’t seem too upset about it. In fact, Helen threw her head back laughing and Sidney could tell she was flirting with him. The guy moved in very close, pressing his body against hers and she didn’t resist, instead smiling broadly before looking around to see if anyone was watching. She whispered something in his ear and bit her lower lip. The man grinned and left the room, making sure to turn around twice to leer at her before exiting. Helen fixed her skirt and blouse before going back to work.

Sidney moved down the hall, feeling like someone had just kicked him in the nuts, which made his need for the bathroom even worse. He hurried inside and took the last stall, grimacing from the stomach cramps as he pulled down his pants and boxer shorts before sitting on the toilet. The erstwhile accountant’s eyes watered, but it had nothing to do with his gastric distress. Watching his wife, the love of his life, behave that way was almost more than he could take. He felt angry and betrayed, but in his heart he was starting to face the truth: he’d probably lost Helen long ago, their marriage now nothing more than a convenience for her. The realization crushed him and he wept openly once more.

Despite what he’d seen, Sidney blamed himself more than he blamed Helen. Deep down he knew it was his fault for escaping into his fantasy worlds and not being the man she needed him to be. The timing seemed too cruel, even for his life. He couldn’t believe he’d finally discovered what he needed to do with his life only to lose the only woman he’d ever loved. Maybe there was something he could do? Maybe if he confronted her, he could convince Helen he was different now. If he showed her the man he could be, the man she needed him to be, maybe they could rekindle their love. Be confident. Be strong. Be in control, he repeated to himself, over and over.

Suddenly, his stomach problems disappeared and he felt fine. Sidney Rosenthal pulled up his pants and adjusted his belt, ready to march out into the bank and win back his wife. Just as he opened the door to the stall, he heard a loud noise from the interior of the bank. A second later, the Scandinavian guy who’d been eyeing him came running into the bathroom, frantically closed the door behind him and pressed his back up against it. His face was a mask of fear: a slack jaw, pale complexion, eyes wide and panicked beyond reason. When the man realized Sidney was in the room the stranger ran to him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“There’s a madman out there! He shot the guard!” the blonde man screamed. “He’s going to kill everyone!”

“What? What are you talking about?” Sidney replied, his voice rising.

The man’s eyes grew even wider and he put his hands on either side of Sidney’s face. “You! You’re him! You can help!” he screamed.

“I’m who? I don’t know you! I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” Sidney said, knocking the man’s hands off his face and pushing him away.

“You’re that guy...that Jack Wylde guy from the movies!” the man yelled. “Can’t you do something!?”

“Are you out of your god damn mi –” Sidney said, as he turned to the bathroom mirror, stopping in mid-sentence when he saw the reflection. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He knew it was him looking into the mirror, but someone else was staring back at him. He put his nose close to the reflection, poking and pulling at the face he saw, the face of Mark LeClare/Jack Wylde. How could it be? How could he be looking at someone else? How could he be someone else?

“You’ve got to help!” the stranger yelled. “Please!”

“Calm down, my good man,” Sidney said in a voice not his own. “Give me a moment and we’ll see what I can do about this rather peculiar situation we find ourselves in.”

As he turned away from the man, Sidney realized that not only did he look like Jack Wylde, he sounded like him, acted like him, even felt like him. He was the confident, charming, in-control super-spy he’d always wanted to be. He smirked into the mirror, his mind thrilling at the sight of that familiar face from his favorite movies looking back at him. He took a few steps back and, much to his surprise, he was now wearing a meticulously tailored, black, three-piece suit. It was exactly like the one worn by Wylde in the movies, so somehow he knew it had to be bulletproof, too. Sidney felt under his left armpit and, sure enough, there was Jack Wylde’s legendary Walther PPK handgun in a shoulder holster. He checked his wrist and found a watch, also an exact match to the secret agent’s timepiece. Sidney was sure it had all the gadgets and weapons in it, too. Despite his confusion about how this could be happening, he marveled at his newfound body and accessories.

“Please, you’ve got to do something,” the blonde man pleaded with him.

“Right you are. Stay here and let me handle this,” he answered firmly.

Sidney pulled out his pistol and walked over to the bathroom door. He listened intently for a moment before peering out. From this vantage point, he couldn’t see much so he soundlessly closed the door and made his way to the end of the hallway across from where he’d watched Helen a little while earlier. Crouching near the far wall, he again waited and listened. He heard people crying and whimpering. After a woman said, “Please, don’t hurt me,” Sidney heard the sound of a hard slap across a face, then a scream. When he finally did take a chance to look around the corner, what he saw shocked him, a lone man standing on top of the service counter waving his arms like a madman, a gun in each hand. That would have been startling enough, but the fact that it was Timmy, the guard from Mayberry, surprised Sidney most of all.

“Everybody shut the fuck up or you’re all dead! Do you hear me? Dead!” Timmy screamed, pointing the guns at various people.

Sidney could see the guard had herded the employees out of the office section, forcing them, the tellers and customers to sit on the ground along the walls of the service area. Everyone looked positively petrified. Carl, the other guard, was lying near the front of the bank holding his bleeding shoulder, obviously having been shot. Each time Timmy pointed one of the guns at someone, they’d flinch, whimper or grimace, and the redheaded guard chuckled uncontrollably. Sidney couldn’t believe the shy, awkward man who’d greeted him upon entering the bank could be capable of something like this.

Surprisingly, Sidney could feel his Jack Wylde persona formulating multiple scenarios to save the day, calling on vast years of experience. He reached into his right inside jacket pocket and felt for something. When his hand closed around it, he smiled to himself. Just then he caught Helen’s eye. She had noticed him crouching there and even through her fear, she instinctively smiled back.

“What are you smiling at?” Timmy screamed at her. “You think this is some kind of game? That you can flirt your way out of this? That poor pathetic Timmy will fall for your bullshit?”

“No, I – I wasn’t...I didn’t...” Helen stuttered nervously.

“Ha! Look at the big time VP! Can’t even get a word out!” Timmy laughed, mocking her. He put the gun from his left hand in the waistband of his uniform and pointed the other one at Helen’s head. “Get up!” he said through gritted teeth.

“No, please don’t, Timmy,” Helen pleaded.

“Get up now, bitch! I want to finish our dance,” Timmy said viciously. “Or would you rather I blow your fucking head off and find a new dance partner?” He fired two shots into the ceiling as an exclamation point, causing everyone to jump, scream and panic again. “I told you to shut up!” Timmy yelled, once more swinging the gun wildly around the room.

“Okay, okay. Please, please just don’t hurt anyone else,” Helen whimpered with tears streaming down her cheeks as she stood up.

“I’ll do what I want!” Timmy said jumping off the counter, grabbing Helen roughly and pulling her to him, his left hand squeezing her buttocks hard. “You’re not in charge here anymore!” He rubbed the barrel of his gun down her neck and pushed it hard into her cleavage, the hot barrel singeing her skin.

“Please, Timmy...please, no!” Helen cried, but Timmy only laughed again.

“It seems like the lady isn’t interested, Tim.” Sidney said loudly.

Timmy broke his hold on Helen and whirled toward the direction of Sidney’s voice. “Who the fuck are you?” Timmy asked with a sneer when he saw Sidney’s Jack Wylde persona standing 40 feet away from him, near the hallway. Timmy drew the other pistol from his waistband.

“I’m the one who’s going to put a stop to all this nonsense,” Sidney said calmly.

“Oh you are, are you? Well, we’ll just see about that!” Timmy screamed, aiming the pistols at his enemy. Sidney stood casually with his arms folded across his chest and his head tilted slightly to the right. He winked at the crazed guard with a sly grin. Everyone screamed as Timmy emptied his guns until the repetitive clicks of the empty revolvers rang through the bank.

Sidney threw back his head and laughed, unharmed by the multiple shots.

“How the fu –?” Timmy started to say before Sidney cut him off.

“Now, now, let’s have no more of that language, Timmy. Be a good lad and stop all this foolishness before you get yourself hurt,” Sidney said with Jack Wylde’s trademark charm as he stepped out from the hallway and stood next to himself.

“What? How can there be two of you? And why isn’t that one dead?” Timmy yelled furiously, drool running down his chin.

“Just a simple holographic projection, Tim. All the best people have them these days, don’t you know,” Sidney replied, hitting the button on the remote control. The first version of Wylde shimmered for a second and faded away. He then raised his right hand, pointing the Walther PPK at the still confused guard. “It’s over, Tim.”

“Not yet!” Timmy said. He pulled an automatic switchblade from his pocket before grabbing Helen again. He stood behind her with his left arm around her waist and pressed the blade against her throat with his right hand. “Don’t come any closer or this bitch is getting a new smile.”

“Okay, okay. Just take it easy,” Sidney said, worried for the first time since all this began. The thought of causing his own wife’s death started to creep into his head, but the Jack Wylde persona quickly took over and pushed such thoughts out of his mind.

“How about I just give you my gun and you can lose the knife, Tim? What do you say?” he asked in an even tone.

“Fucking right you’ll give me your gun! Do it now!” Timmy said, his eyes almost popping out of his head. “Then I’ll decide if this bitch lives or dies! Just me! Nobody else gets a vote!” He started giggling uncontrollably again.

“Whatever you say, Tim,” Sidney said, placing his pistol on the ground before kicking it over to the deranged guard. He then held his hands up to shoulder level and remained motionless.

“Damn right, whatever I say, asshole,” Timmy yelled at seemingly everyone and no one all at once as he put his left foot on the Walther PPK, keeping it in place. He spun his captive around until she was facing him once more. He ran the flat of his knife blade over her cheeks and mouth slowly, staring at Helen intently. She could feel a mixture of lust and hatred behind his almost glowing green eyes. She’d always thought Timmy’s eyes were blue, but before she could think about it, he ran the knife down her blouse, cutting all the buttons and exposing her bra and chest underneath. She covered herself quickly with both arms just before Timmy pushed her down to the floor, her head banging off the divider wall. Calmly, he reached down and picked up the pistol.

“Alright, jackass! Come over here and no more of your bullshit holograms!” Timmy yelled at Sidney, pointing the gun at him. Sidney walked slowly over to the maniacal guard who pushed the muzzle of the Walther PPK against his forehead. “So this is the real you, huh? Well, how do you like me now?” Timmy asked.

“Honestly, I’m unimpressed,” Sidney replied.

“You’re a cool bastard, I’ll give you that,” Timmy said through gritted teeth. “But let’s see how you feel when I pull this trigger.”

“Honestly, it will be shocking if you do,” Sidney said with a knowing smile. “I don’t think you have it in you, Tim.”

“Fuck you!” Timmy screamed with rage, as he pulled the trigger. The gun didn’t fire, instead sending a 1200-volt charge through Timmy’s arm, causing the guard to convulse and drop the weapon. Sidney caught the pistol in mid-air before delivering a wicked right cross to his enemy, sending the dazed guard stumbling back. Sidney continued the assault with a thunderous roundhouse kick to his solar plexus, knocking Timmy hard to the ground.

“Perhaps I should have mentioned my pistol is biometrically calibrated for my use only,” Sidney said. “Keeps things from getting messy, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’ll kill you! Kill you! Kill you! Kiiiiiilll!” Timmy bellowed as he got up and ran toward Sidney in a berserk rage.

“No, you won’t,” Sidney said, sidestepping Timmy’s lunge while grabbing his left wrist and twisting it hard, causing the guard to bend at the waist in agony. Sidney took one step to his left, released his opponent’s wrist, grabbed a fistful of red hair and lifted his knee into Timmy’s face with a viciousness that belied his calm demeanor, shattering the man’s nose. Blood poured down the guard’s face as he fell back unconscious.

The people in the bank erupted into cheers, and Sidney soaked in the adulation. It was as good as he’d always hoped it would be, feeling like the hero. He stood over Helen and offered his hand. “Allow me, my dear. You’ve had to suffer enough poor manners for one day,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Helen looked up and reached for his hand, her eyes locked on his. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said softly.

“A pleasure, lovely lady,” Sidney replied, kissing Helen’s hand. He was enjoying the moment. She looked at him with a mixture of awe, respect and desire. He’d never seen that look in his wife’s eyes before.

“Please, can you help Carl?” a woman yelled from the front of the bank.

Sidney released Helen’s hand and rushed over to the injured guard. After a quick examination, he said, “Keep pressure on the wound and he should be okay.” Sidney stood up and asked loudly, “Has anyone called the authorities?”

“I pushed the silent alarm as soon as you took him down,” a teller replied.

“Excellent work, good lady,” Sidney replied. “I apologize to you all, but I fear I must take my leave now.”

Before he could get to the door, the triumphant hero heard Timmy groan loudly as the lunatic regained consciousness. Sidney stood, ready in case the fallen guard was planning on starting round two, but the redheaded man simply looked up at everyone with a bewildered face. He felt his nose with his hand and when he saw the blood, he started yelling, “What happened? What happened to me? I’m bleeding!” He got to his knees while continuing to freak out, “Somebody help me! Who hurt me and – Carl! Is Carl all right? What happened? Did we get robbed?” Timmy looked up at Sidney with tears in his bright blue eyes. “Please, please help Carl! He’s a good guy...a real good guy... he’s...he’s my friend.” Timmy collapsed onto the floor sobbing, his face in his hands. Sidney couldn’t help but feel bad for the strange, broken man as he turned to leave.

“Wait!” Helen yelled, stopping him in his tracks. She rushed over to Sidney, holding her blouse together with her left hand. “I just wanted to thank you again.” she said, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. While her face was close to his, she whispered, “Meet me at the Roosevelt Hotel Bar tonight at seven and I’ll show you even more gratitude.”

“Sounds intriguing. See you there,” Sidney replied, unable to help himself. He then turned and bolted out the door.

“Wait! Wait! Don’t go yet! I don’t even know your name!” Helen yelled, heading out after him.

Sidney couldn’t wait any longer. He was desperate to get away from the bank before the cops arrived and he could already hear the sirens getting closer. There was no way to explain who he really was or how he did the things he did. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how it all happened. Plus, his current identity was too conspicuous on the teeming streets of Manhattan. If someone recognized him as Mark LeClare and wanted an autograph or picture, he’d be stuck answering a bunch of questions for which he had no answers. He needed to change immediately, but with Helen coming after him, he couldn’t be Sidney Rosenthal either. Once through the door, he turned right, concentrating on an image in his head as he came to a complete stop. A moment later, Helen burst through the entrance and ran right into him.

“Oh, please excuse me,” Sidney said in a thick, Jewish accent.

“I’m sorry. I – I –” Helen said, confused as she scanned the street.

“Is everything all right, Miss?” Sidney asked.

“Yes, yes. I was just looking for someone.” Helen replied.

“Are you looking for the dark haired guy in the suit who just ran past me?” Sidney said, knowing she was. “He took off like a bat out of Hell down that way!” Sidney pointed down the avenue. “Almost knocked me over too but it was much nicer bumping into you.” Sidney smiled congenially.

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say,” Helen said, looking at Sidney for the first time. She turned to go back inside but stopped, looking at him again very closely. “Have we met, sir? You seem awfully familiar to me.”

“Oh, I think I’d remember meeting a woman like you,” Sidney said with a wink. “Maybe you’ve seen me around. I do get around.” They both chuckled at his comment.

“Well, nice meeting you and thanks again. You have a good day,” Helen replied.

“You too, sweetie,” Sidney said as he began to walk away. He was barely 30 feet away when three police cruisers pulled up to the curb. Multiple officers rushed to the bank entrance. Helen escorted them inside as Sidney continued to walk toward the stairs leading to the subway. He stopped momentarily to look into a store window, staring at the reflection of a face he hadn’t seen in 28 years, the face of Harold Rosenthal. He smiled widely and with a tear in his eye, he said, “Thanks, Dad. It’s good to see you again.”

Two hours later, Sidney Rosenthal stood in front of his bathroom mirror, staring at his own reflection with a much different feeling. He never much liked looking at himself, always thinking very little of his own face. It was so ordinary, so uninteresting. It was the face of a nobody, an afterthought, the kind of face you forget as soon as you see it. No wonder no one ever noticed him, ever cared about him. But now for some reason he could have any face he wanted. He’d spent the better part of the last hour practicing this new, startling metamorphosis, honing his ability to change into someone else.

In rapid succession, he changed from Sidney Rosenthal to John McClane to Bruce Lee to Brad Pitt to Derek Jeter to Sherlock Holmes to Johnny Carson to Channing Tatum to Han Solo to Conan the Barbarian, before once again settling on Jack Wylde. Every change came complete with different clothes, weapons, accessories and attitudes. He didn’t understand how or why he could do it, but he was definitely beginning to love it. Each time he transformed, he didn’t just look like these people, a part of him became them too.

Despite his ever increasing skill at changing, he’d discovered a few limitations over the last hour. For some reason, he couldn’t change into a woman or child, no matter how hard he tried. He also wasn’t able to become any type of animal or beast like a yeti or sasquatch. He got the feeling it was because deep down, he didn’t really have any desire to be any of those things. Apparently, he had to truly want to be whomever he thought of for the change to work. He looked at Jack Wylde’s technologically advanced watch and saw that he still had a few hours before it was time to meet Helen. Plenty of time to keep honing his skills.

Sidney knew he had to tell her about all this: quitting his job, what happened at the bank and his strange, new ability. There was no getting around it. It was the absolute right thing to do, but he wondered how to break the news to his wife without completely freaking her out. This was a major life changer, not something he could just blurt out and hope for the best. Maybe he could wait until after she had a drink or two, to make it easier on her; easier on both of them.

Still, it had been nice to see that look in her eyes during the moments they’d shared in the bank. It made him feel so good, like the first few weeks of their relationship when he couldn’t get her out of his mind. It was a feeling he didn’t even know he’d missed until he felt it again. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if he spent a lovely evening with her as Wylde. He could always tell her after it was all over, after they’d had some fun. Sure, it might be selfish, but didn’t he deserve to have his own wife look at him with love in her eyes again. Was that so wrong? How could it be? It’s just meeting for a few drinks. Nothing serious.

Helen was already seated at the bar when Sidney entered in his Jack Wylde persona. He wore black pants, a white shirt, and a white blazer with a black bowtie all perfectly tailored to fit his physique, having “changed” in the bathroom of a Starbucks down the street. Helen looked incredible, wearing a tight, black miniskirt, low cut white blouse and knee high, black leather boots with dark stockings. Sidney couldn’t help but stare at her ample cleavage and luscious red lips as he approached. Even after all the years, this woman still stirred something in him, especially now that he finally knew what his life was meant to be. He desperately wanted to share his wonderful, new ability and attitude with her, but that would have to wait. A night like this didn’t come along every day so he’d decided to savor every second of it.

“Good evening, Mrs. Rosenthal,” Sidney said, kissing her hand again.

“How did –?” Helen answered quizzically, before smiling. “Oh, of course, I guess a man like you would already know something about me.”

“A man like me? Whatever do you mean?” Sidney asked coyly.

Helen pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. “You know full well what I mean,” she said while playfully tapping his hand with hers. “A worldly man, a sophisticated man, a confident man, a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to take it.” Each descriptive word made Sidney’s heart sing; hearing her speak in such glowing terms thrilled him to no end. She turned slightly away from him but looked back over her shoulder seductively before laughing. “Am I close?”

“You’re right about one thing. I do know what I want,” Sidney replied. He added with a grin, “but what do you say we have a drink first?” He gestured to the bartender to come over.

“Sounds good, Mr...?” Helen answered.

“Call me Nathan,” Sidney said, giving her the false name he’d finally settled on after much deliberation.

“What can I get you folks?” the bartender asked.

“Nathan and I will have...” Helen said, cutting in before Sidney could answer. She paused to wink at him before continuing, “...a bottle of your finest champagne. Send it to room 714.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a room key, waving it in the air. “I hope you don’t mind but I’m also a woman who knows what she wants. And I plan on taking it tonight.”

Sidney was more than a little shocked at this turn of events. He couldn’t believe his wife’s behavior. What was she thinking? His mind was suddenly a torrent of mixed emotions; the part that was his own persona feeling confused and angry, while the Wylde side of his psyche was intrigued and titillated. The conflict raged for a few awkward moments before he was able to respond. Unsure of how to proceed, he managed to say half-convincingly, “Why would I mind? That sounds perfect.”

“Let’s go,” Helen said, grabbing his arm and leading him quickly to the bank of elevators right outside the bar. She stared deeply into his eyes as one of the cars made its way to the lobby, never wavering. Sidney felt oddly uncomfortable gazing in her eyes, having to break contact a number of times. He wasn’t sure if it was the strange phenomenon of literally seeing her through someone else’s eyes or if it was the prospect that he might be seeing the real Helen for the first time ever. The sudden “ding” of the elevator arriving freed him from his introspection.

“Ready?” Helen asked playfully as she walked into the empty car, leaving Sidney standing motionless. The confusion in his mind, the contradictory feelings, made it difficult for him to react as either persona. He slowly walked into the car, absent-mindedly standing far away from his wife, unsure of what to do next. As the elevator began its ascent, Helen walked over to Sidney and pressed her body against his, again staring into his eyes.

“Mmmmm, I don’t know what it is about you...” she said, running the index finger of her right hand around his lips, “...but I feel like I’ve known you forever. Do you know what I mean? Do you feel that...that connection like I do?”

Is that it? Sidney thought to himself. Is it our long-time love she feels? He wondered if Helen was somehow subconsciously recognizing him even in this different form. Actually, that would explain a lot. Her invitation for drinks and subsequent come-ons would mean she knew it was him on some level; that their love went beyond the normal senses, to an almost ethereal level. He smiled at the thought. It was all he ever wanted: to know his wife loved him above all else. This proved beyond any doubt that they were meant to be together.

In that moment, Sidney Rosenthal fell in love with his wife all over again. He almost changed back to his own persona but hesitated. Instead, he simply looked in her eyes, matching her intensity with his own rising desire. He decided to stick to his original plan and allowed the Jack Wylde persona to take over completely. After all, the night was just beginning. The experience and charm of the dashing super-spy might be useful, so it was time for Sidney Rosenthal to take a back seat and enjoy the rest of the ride.

“Of course, I feel the connection,” Sidney finally said. “It’s electric.” He took her face in his hands, kissing Helen passionately.

As she let out a long, sustained exhale, he could almost feel the raw emotion coming off her body in waves. She took his hand, slowly guiding it to her inner thigh before thrusting it forcefully into her nether regions. Sidney instantly realized she wasn’t wearing panties, had completely shaven, and was also fully aroused and wet, moaning as his fingers found her swollen clitoris. Instinctively, she moved her feet farther apart, causing her miniskirt to rise just enough for her round, firm buttocks to peek out from beneath. She kissed Sidney harder, probing his mouth with her tongue, panting like an animal in heat. Each time Helen broke her kiss, she’d catch his lower lip in her teeth, biting gently and tugging. She reached down to feel his hardening manhood, loving the way it throbbed in her grasp. Sidney cupped her exquisite backside with both hands, squeezing each cheek roughly as he grinded his engorged member against her body.

“Oh, my God!” a woman shouted as the door opened. Sidney and Helen broke their embrace, turning toward the front of the car to see an elderly couple staring at them in horror. They’d been so enraptured in each other, neither had noticed the elevator slowing as it reached the seventh floor. Helen grabbed Sidney by the hand and hurried past the woman and her husband without bothering to fix her skirt. The man stared long and hard at her rear end moving down the hallway before his wife hit him in the chest with her purse, causing him to enter the now vacant elevator.

Helen laughed hysterically as they got to room 714. “Something tells me we made their night!” she managed to say between chuckles. “This is a story they’ll be telling for years.”

“Imagine if they could see what comes next,” Sidney said as he pulled her close and kissed her again. “Open that door, darling, or I’m afraid I’ll be forced to take you right here.”

“Mmmmm...I’m tempted to let you go for it,” Helen replied before swiping the key card and opening the door. “So tell me, Nathan. What would you like to do first?” Helen said as she backed into the room, unbuttoning her blouse and exposing her firm, oversized breasts. Her dark brown nipples were fully erect and visible through her white lace bra, making Sidney’s blood boil. His erection strained through his pants as he moved toward her. Within seconds, he’d already forced her boobs out of the bra and begun to suck on them. Helen grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head harder into her chest as she moaned loudly over the distinctive sound of the hotel door locking behind them. She turned away from him and slowly began gyrating her exposed ass against his rock hard organ. He massaged her breasts from behind and hungrily kissed the side of her neck. They panted like a pair of dogs on a hot summer day, their passion growing exponentially by the second.

Sidney whispered in her ear, “I want you.”

Helen replied breathlessly, “So, have me.”

Eighty-seven minutes later, Sidney stood, staring out the window, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. Helen was still in the shower after their last carnal adventure had taken an unexpected aquatic turn. She’d requested some time alone to actually clean up after their hour plus, non-stop, sweaty and increasingly intense love making. Sidney felt both satisfied and self-satisfied, finally experiencing a sexual encounter that lived up to his every fantasy. Being able to share it with his wife made it all the more intoxicating and special. He’d never felt so close to Helen. He knew now was the time to come clean about everything that happened, but he was scared. He didn’t want to ruin so perfect an evening with his bizarre, hard-to-believe news.

Helen walked out of the bathroom with a towel around her waist and another wrapped around her head. Her amazing breasts and still erect nipples stirred his loins again as she walked over to the mini-bar. Before he could move, she said, “I see that look in your eye, but stay where you are, okay? I need a time out.” She smiled and Sidney’s world lit up once again. “Now that we’re out of champagne, I could use something a little stronger? How ‘bout you, handsome?”

“I’m good,” Sidney said before turning back once more to gaze out at the city lights.

“Suit yourself,” Helen replied, making herself a scotch neat before sitting on the edge of the bed near the nightstand. She took a sip, placed the glass down, unraveled the towel on her head and started to dry her hair. “That last bit in the shower was something else, huh? My legs are still shaking,” she said, dreamily.

“Any regrets?” Sidney asked without turning around.

“Not a one. You?” Helen answered.

“Well, this may come as a surprise, but I don’t do this sort of thing every day,” Sidney said earnestly. “I’m more of a...I don’t know...take it slow, courtship kind of guy, I guess.”

“Hah!” Helen retorted. “Well, I’ll tell you something, cowboy. This sure ain’t my first rodeo.”

“You’ve done this before?” Sidney asked incredulously, turning to look at his wife.

“Well, not this particularly, no,” Helen responded. Sidney exhaled, relieved to know that his wife hadn’t cheated on him. Then she added, “Usually, I make a guy wine and dine me a few times before I give up the goods, y’know? But you, you’re a special case so I made an exception.”

“Give up... the goods?” Sidney asked, shaken.

“Now, now, don’t get all high and mighty on me. Not after what just happened in this room and not after what I saw in the bank today,” Helen said, defiantly. “You’re going to tell me you don’t do this on a regular basis when you’re working for whatever government agency you work for? Like you don’t have a girl in every city around the world?”

“Of course I don’t.” Sidney replied, a little annoyed at the insinuation. His dual personality was making it difficult to process what she’d just admitted, so he added, “Actually, I don’t work for anyone. I..I recently...left my...place of employment.”

“Oh, so some kind of gun-for-hire, then? A mercenary? Do what needs to be done and go “wherever the money is” type deal?” Helen asked.

“No, I – um, forget about me. What about your marriage? Your husband?” Sidney asked, hoping for an answer that would reassure him.

“My husband?” Helen said derisively, her upper lip curling in disgust once more. “You won’t find a more worthless, spineless, useless piece of nothing in the entire universe. So if I take my pleasures where I can get them, who cares? He sure ain’t bringin’ the heat at home if you know what I mean.” She chuckled softly.

“Don’t you even love him?” Sidney asked, the pit in his stomach growing larger with each comment.

“Love?” Helen asked loudly. “What the hell does love have to do with anything? It’s about having the life I deserve, getting all I can out of it.”

“Then why-” Sidney asked before Helen cut him off.

“Why do I stay with him?” she said, still casually drying her hair. “I don’t know. Habit? Convenience, maybe? It’s safe. It’s easy. Why leave when I can pretty much do whatever I want, whenever I want? He’s not going anywhere, that’s for sure.” She gave him another smile, but the world didn’t seem quite as bright for Sidney now.

“How often do you do this kind of thing?” Sidney asked, now petrified of the answer.

“None of your fucking business,” she said sternly. “It’s weird how almost all you guys ask that same question. It’s like you’re staking a claim or something.” She shook out her hair and took another drink of scotch before continuing, “Let me tell you something about me: I do what I want, when I want, and nobody tells me different. No one owns me. Not you, not any man. Certainly not my idiot husband.”

“Didn’t you ever love him?” Sidney said, desperate for something to make this better.

“I suppose I did for a time,” Helen said quietly. She sighed demonstratively before continuing, “Maybe at the beginning, before I even knew what love was.” Suddenly, a forlorn look came over her face. She stared past Sidney, her eyes unfocused before she said softly, “Funny thing is, I almost lost him this week. He almost died in that bus incident that was all over the news. The one with the animal, y’know?”

“Did that scare you?” Sidney asked hopefully.

“Scare me?” Helen responded, throwing the towel on the bed and picking up her bra. She started to put it on. “Hell no. I was more pissed off than anything.”

“Pissed off? Why would you be pissed?” Sidney asked.

“Because it would’ve been perfect! I would’ve been out free and clear!” Helen said, casually adjusting her boobs inside her bra as Sidney’s world shattered. “But that moron couldn’t even do that right!” She finished her drink in one gulp, before adding, “If he’d been killed, I’d have been done with him without all the whining and crying that I know will come if I ever leave him. Not to mention I’d probably have to pay him alimony since he’s been stuck at the same pathetic job for years without the balls to ask for a raise or promotion.” Helen took a deep breath, calmed herself, grinned and winked at Sidney callously before adding, “Plus, I’d have gotten one hell of an insurance payout!”

“A...payout?” Sidney asked weakly.

“Yeah, at least for once in his miserable life, he’d be worth something to me,” Helen said, laughing.

She came over and put her arms around him, nestling her head on his shoulder. Sidney felt the world start to spin out of control, unable to regain his bearings or say anything. Helen kissed his neck softly, but he barely noticed until she said, “You know, this has been so good, the two of us together. I was thinking that with him out of the way and with all that money, we could do anything, go anywhere we want. Maybe you know somebody who could do the job for me? For us? Maybe you’d be willing –”

“You bitch!” Sidney shouted, suddenly shifting back to his real body, his face twisted in anger. He pushed her away as hard as he could. Helen fell onto her back, the towel around her waist unfastening. Sidney looked down at her screaming, “How could you? How could you?!”

“Sidney? How? What? What’s going on here?!” Helen said staring up at him.

“You heartless bitch! I wanted to share all this with you and you...you...you...want me dead?” His voice cracked and caught in his throat as he said those last words. Tears filled his eyes as he looked down at the supposed love of his life. It was all so clear to him now. She never cared about him. She never loved him at all. He felt so betrayed, so used, so unbelievably stupid for falling for all her lies, for not seeing her for who she really was.

“How did you –” she stopped mid-sentence, staring up in disbelief. Suddenly, her face transformed into a mask of anger. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” she said with pure hatred in her eyes. “You’re going to spy on me! That’s what this is, isn’t it? You think you can trick me, make me believe you’re something you’re not and then sit here and judge me?!” She stood up and Sidney took a step back. “No fucking way am I going to let you make a fool of me, Sidney!”

“Make a fool of you?” he shouted back. “I’m not the one lying and running around behind your back like...like...a two-bit whore!”

“Fuck you! Aaaaaaaaaah!” Helen screamed, pushing him against the window. She punched him square in the nose before pummeling his face and upper body. Sidney was rattled as blood began to stream down his face from her initial blow, but he managed to push her back a few steps. A second later, Helen was all over him again, scratching at his eyes and screaming like a crazy woman. “You won’t do this to me, Sidney! You’re nothing, do you hear me! Nothing! A nobody! You’re useless, utterly useless! You’re less than a man! You’re nothing but a pathetic sack of shit!”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Sidney raged as he changed back to his Jack Wylde persona, his perfect features filled with loathing for her. He grabbed Helen around the throat and forced her back to the middle of the room. Sidney’s eyes narrowed as she clawed at his forearms in desperation. He increased his chokehold, screaming unintelligibly through gritted teeth, his saliva cascading all over her face. They both fell to the floor with Helen taking the brunt of the fall, the wind knocked out of her. Sidney landed on top, still strangling her. Her eyes grew wide with fear and confusion as his fingers dug harder into her neck, blocking her airway. She scratched and hit him to no avail until eventually she grew too weak, her limbs inevitably becoming slack. He continued the pressure on her trachea until he saw her eyes roll back into her head. For a moment, he smiled approvingly before realizing what he was doing.

“No!” he yelled, releasing his grip on her throat and backing away until he reached the wall, his face panicked and fearful. “No, no, no!” he repeated as he sat on the floor in an upright fetal position. He rocked back and forth, his mouth open, his eyes closed tightly. “Don’t be dead, don’t be dead, please, please don’t be dead.” He opened his eyes and looked at the prone body of his wife on the floor. He didn’t see her breathing.

Suddenly, the room was filled with a light so intense Sidney had to shield his eyes with both forearms. He recognized it as the same kind of light he’d experienced on the bus days before, so he knew better than to try to open his eyes. Something was different about this time though. He felt a warmth along with the light and it somehow began to calm him down. His breathing steadied and his mind cleared. The panic, fear and turmoil were all gone, replaced with a sense of peace. He changed from Jack Wylde to his normal persona without even realizing it.

“It’s all right, Sidney. You can open your eyes now,” came a voice from within the light.

“Who’s there? What’s happening?” Sidney said as he slowly raised his head, opening his eyes ever so slightly before realizing the light didn’t hurt them at all. Strangely, it illuminated the entire room yet seemed to come from everywhere simultaneously. Sidney looked toward the door and there he saw two silhouetted figures. As the light began to ebb, he could make out their faces. It was Father Dodson from the movie theatre and the strange, Scandinavian man from the bank.

“Check the woman, Father,” the blonde man said.

“Yes, Gabriel,” Dodson replied, moving to Helen and tending to her gently. He placed his hand on her wrist before turning and saying, “She is alive.”

“That is good, Sidney. Had you killed her, you would be of no use to me,” the man said.

“Use to you? What are you talking about?” Sidney asked, getting more confused by the moment but still feeling nothing but an eerie calmness. “Who are you and what are the two of you doing here anyway?”

“I believe you met Father Dodson this morning. I am called Gabriel,” the man replied.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me, buddy?” Sidney asked, repeatedly looking over at Helen. Father Dodson took a sheet off the bed to cover her semi-nude form.

“Not as of yet, but it will, my friend. It surely will,” Gabriel said serenely.

“Ooookay, if you say so,” Sidney responded, feeling a little more like himself. “That still doesn’t answer why you’re here now.”

“What I told you this morning was true, my son,” Father Dodson said. “Gabriel and I are here looking to recruit others to our mission.” He saw Sidney’s concern for Helen so he added, “Don’t worry. She will be fine, Sid. No permanent damage.”

Sidney looked up at the ceiling as he took a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly. No matter what she’d done, he was glad Helen would be okay. He tried to stand but was still too shaky, so he slid back down the wall to his seated position. His eyes filled with tears again as he said, “It seems like I’m something of a captive audience, so talk. Tell me what you want with me.”

“It’s not what we want, but what we can offer you, Sidney,” Gabriel said. “Father Dodson, why don’t you begin by telling him about the Society of the Blessed?”

“Certainly, Gabriel,” Father Dodson said. He sat on the edge of the bed near Helen’s unconscious body. “Sid, I belong to an ancient order, what you would probably call “caretakers.” In fact, my family has been in The Society for thousands of years. I am the very last descendent of those good and noble men. You see, The Society of the Blessed was created by Pope Victor III in 1086 as a force for good in this world. The pontiff knew first hand of the evil that was spreading around the globe at that time and he took steps to make sure it would never succeed with its malevolent plans.”

“We’re not seriously taking about demons from Hell now, are we?” Sidney asked.

“Mock not what you do not know, Sidney Rosenthal,” Gabriel said. “There are demons in this world but that is not of which Father Dodson speaks.”

“Gabriel is right, my friend. Unfortunately, there are far worse things at war with this world than Hellspawn,” the priest added solemnly.

“Then can we cut to the chase, Father?” Sidney said, his anxiety rising once again. Whatever that light did to him was fading fast.

“Of course,” Dodson said, quickly glancing at Gabriel who nodded. “What you’ve experienced this week, the attack on the bus and the incident at the bank, were small parts of a bigger story. I’m afraid you are now a part of that story.”

“What do you mean bigger story?’” Sidney said, his apprehension growing every moment.

“It is the story of The Society of the Blessed,” Dodson replied. “And it is the story of The Presence.”

“The presence? What is that?”

“The existence of The Presence is the reason the Society was created, my friend. Pope Victor III witnessed with his own eyes the power of The Presence just as you have, Sidney. He vowed to fight the evil he saw and, in so doing, The Society of the Blessed was created.” Father Dodson could see how perplexed Sidney was so he took a beat before continuing. “They are beings that feed on the destructive emotions or negative energy of humanity, such as fear, anger or jealousy. Once this was discovered, combating the seven deadly sins took on a greater importance to the church as the papacy tried to block The Presence from gaining a foothold on Earth. For you see, The Presence are not of this world, my friend.”

“Wait a minute, are you saying they’re aliens from space?” Sidney asked loudly.

“No, Sid. Not from space. As crazy as it sounds, and believe me, I understand just how crazy it does sound, The Presence are from a parallel dimension. A dimension that legend says is composed almost entirely of psychic energy.” Father Dodson waited a few moments to let that sink in before continuing, “Throughout history, these symbiotic, psychic beings were only able to cross through to our world during times of violent environmental upheavals, such as meteor showers, volcanic eruptions or massive earthquakes. These natural disasters somehow weakened the dimensional wall, allowing a number of The Presence access to this side. In the last 60 years, with the advent of nuclear and other advanced weapons, these crossings have become much more frequent.”

“What does any of that have to do with me or the things that happened to me this week?” Sidney said, his mind once again reeling.

“The Presence manifests within humans in three ways,” Gabriel said. “Pope Victor and the Society categorized them as Actives, Dormants and Gestates. What we both saw in the bank was an example of a Dormant. This type hides within a human psyche, sometimes for years, waiting for the right moment to strike, to foment the most human suffering it can. Obviously, Timmy McDonald was a victim of The Presence. Once activated within the human host, a Dormant will burn itself out in a short period of time, leaving its victim with no memory of the heinous acts the Dormant forced him or her to do.”

“I guess that explains Timmy’s confusion when it was all over,” Sidney said to himself. “And the other two?” Sidney rubbed his temples.

“The incident on the bus was caused by an Active,” Gabriel explained. “These types of The Presence can only live within a human for a very short period of time. When activated, they cause violent and unpredictable mutations within the host body, creating all manner of nightmarish creatures. The host’s body and mind are in such pain, they usually lash out violently, leaving death and destruction in their wake.”

“So what happened to it? Was it you that destroyed it with that light?” Sidney asked Gabriel.

“Yes. That is my gift,” Gabriel responded. “I am able to use my light to identify when a human has been infected with these vile creatures and purify the host, literally burning The Presence out of the person. If I am too late and a host has been activated, I can use the light to destroy the aliens in all their forms. That is what I did on the bus right after I realized you were one of The Blessed.”

“One of The Blessed?” Sidney said incredulously. “Obviously, you don’t know me at all or you’d know I’m anything but blessed.”

“You misunderstand, Sidney,” Father Dodson said. “Gabriel isn’t saying you are blessed, he’s saying you’re one of The Blessed.”

“Again, what the hell does that mean?” Sidney shouted, panic welling up in his chest.

“Please, calm yourself, Sidney Rosenthal, and I will endeavor to make it clear,” Gabriel answered. “For as long as The Presence has been in this world there have been The Blessed, humans who, for whatever reason, are immune to their psychic invasions. The Blessed minds are fortified against The Presence. When the aliens attempt to take them over, these unique individuals gain abilities unlike any other humans. This is what happened to you, my friend. You are one of The Blessed. I saw you turn invisible on the bus in the face of that Active. I knew then that you were special.”

“Heh, I wondered why that thing didn’t gut me like a fish,” Sidney said. “But how did this happen?”

“Most likely at some point in time you came into contact with the third type of The Presence: a Gestate,” Gabriel said calmly. “These are the most dangerous of the three types. The Gestates are the instruments that The Presence use to implant the Actives and Dormants in their host bodies. For lack of a better explanation, the Gestate impregnates a human psyche with one of The Presence. The vast majority of people don’t even realize it’s happened. The alien creatures grow within the human host until maturation. Once fully developed, an Active will transform while a Dormant will embed itself deep within the psyche, waiting for the proper time to manifest. When a Gestate tries to implant The Presence into one of The Blessed, the alien is rebuffed and absorbed, gifting the host, or blessed, with unique abilities such as yours.”

“Of course, makes perfect sense,” Sidney said sarcastically. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said. “I believe his interaction with you triggered The Presence within the guard, Timmy McDonald.”

“Wait, a minute. What do you mean he was triggered by me?” Sidney asked, remembering Timmy’s anguish when it was all over. “Why would that happen?”

“Unfortunately, whenever one of The Blessed comes into contact with someone infected by The Presence, the creatures can somehow sense it and they are activated,” Gabriel said. “The Dormant within the guard reacted to you, Sidney. It was triggered by you.”

“This is the craziest shit I’ve ever heard,” Sidney said, shaking his head. “So you’re telling me that no matter what I do or where I go, I will inadvertently cause these things to activate?”

“I am sorry, my son,” Dodson said. “That is the burden you now carry.”

“Fucking terrific,” Sidney replied, the gravity of the situation beginning to weigh on him. “So, just how many of The Blessed are there? Am I the only one?”

“Through the years it is hard to say how many of The Blessed there have been at any given time,” Dodson said. “The Society acted as a support staff for them, helping them and tending to their every need while they fought these alien beings. Part of that task was recording their battles and cataloging a list of the fallen, but many of these writings have been lost through the centuries. According to the records we’ve managed to obtain, there is approximately one of The Blessed for every 100,000 of The Presence.”

“Jesus Christ!” Sidney said before turning to Dodson. “Sorry, Father. No offense, but that is one crap load of The Presence with just the three of us on the other side.”

“No, Sidney, you misunderstand. We are not alone in this fight,” Gabriel said solemnly. “As of right now, I sense there are 12 of The Blessed in the world.”

Sidney’s eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. “But...but that...that would mean there’s over 1.2 million Presence on Earth right now.”

Dodson and Gabriel nodded in agreement.

“What the fuck do you expect me to do about that?” Sidney yelled.

“Come with us,” Gabriel said. “Help us gather the others and together we can stop this plague that threatens our very world.” Gabriel said it in such a way that Sidney almost believed it was possible. Almost.

But then he thought of the odds he’d just outlined. “You’re out of your mind. You both are!” Sidney said, feeling the fear growing inside him. “I can’t do that! I’m no hero. I’m not anything.”

“You are more than you ever imagined,” Father Dodson said. “Come with us and fulfill your destiny, Sidney. Be the man you always wanted to be. You have a purpose now; a calling. You can make a difference.” The priest placed his hand on Sidney’s shoulders, looking directly into his eyes. “You told me that you wanted to be more than you’ve been in the past. This is your chance. Take it, my son. Take it and help us fight this evil.”

Sidney looked at Dodson in disbelief before turning his gaze to Gabriel. They were crazy, weren’t they? Certifiably insane.

“Sidney, take this opportunity to be the man I know you can be,” Gabriel said softly but firmly.

Sidney looked around the room frantically before gazing down at Helen. He thought about everything she’d said to him: how worthless he was, how pathetic and gutless, how he’d be more useful dead than alive. Was she right or could this be his chance to prove her wrong, once and for all? Could he be the hero he’d always wanted to be, make a difference, and create real change in the world? That would be something, wouldn’t it?

What was he holding onto anyway? It wasn’t like anyone would miss him if he left. He’d lived his life in such quiet desperation for so long he had absolutely nothing to lose. After all, he’d quit his job, never had any friends to speak of and his wife was a lying, cheating sociopath who hated his guts. Knowing Helen, the first thing she’d do when she woke up was start divorce proceedings and press charges against him for almost killing her. Even if she didn’t, he was done with her. He now knew he deserved better.

He looked over at Father Dodson and Gabriel. They both believed in him and that feeling was better than anything he’d ever experienced. Maybe this was his destiny after all. There had to be a reason for all of this. There had to be a reason he was given this strange, new ability.

Sidney stood up, feeling stronger and more confident than he’d ever felt in his life. He looked in the mirror expecting to see Jack Wylde staring back, but it was still him. At least a brand new version of himself. He smiled and turned toward the door. “Let’s go, fellas,” he said triumphantly. “We’ve got things to do.”

“The road ahead will be daunting, Sidney Rosenthal,” Gabriel said as he put his hand on Sidney’s shoulder. “But ultimately you will be doing God’s work.”

Gabriel exited and Dodson came over to Sidney. The old priest smiled and said, “You okay, Sid? I know this is a lot to take. Is there anything you need?”

Sidney smiled back, “No, Nicholas. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’ve got everything I need ... like I’m finally doing what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Just as he got to the door, Sidney paused. He took one last look at his wife lying on the floor before saying with a wink and a smile:

“Nothing more for me to do here. On to the next adventure.”

 

 

 

THE END