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Matt enjoyed his burger and fries but couldn’t stop thinking about that girl. It was impossible. She was unforgettable. Despite that he said nothing about her to Dwayne.
Then, when he drove back to the library, there she was! Walking off campus. She turned right and headed into town. Without hesitating he circled his old pickup through the parking area and followed her.
Caught by a red light, he watched her progress down the block ahead with a quick, light step, the ponytail swaying left-right-left-right.
OK, Matt, what the hell are you doing, man? Stalking a strange girl? Taking pictures of her? That was embarrassing and wrong. Creepy, in fact.
Well, she was a young person with extraordinary tastes in scholarly books. And she took no notes, maybe because she had a photographic memory. And she happened to be striking and moved like an angel. She was not ordinary. This was not normal.
There had to be a story there. If so, he would get her permission for the photos. Newspaper people did that all the time. A car accident, a fire, a shooting...reporters always took photos as events presented themselves. Permissions came later.
Shy as Matt was around women, his profession would provide both context and license (and also the courage) to talk to her.
The light turned green.
The women was now two blocks ahead and approaching the next corner. He drove past her, turned right at the third block, and pulled over to the curb by an alley. The plan was to stroll back to the street and “just happen” to run into her.
He got out and was about to walk back to her when she crossed the street, turned right, and headed in his direction, but on the opposite side of the street. Excellent!
Crossing the street where the alley intersected, he waited for her to approach. It might have taken fifteen seconds.
This was his first head-on view. She had a keen-featured face with a light tan complexion and pronounced hazel eyes. It was the perfect face of the intellect so evident in the library. When she noticed him looking at her, her eyes sharpened; out of interest, he hoped.
For his part he felt zapped as if by lightning. He forgot to breathe. Whatever was he about to do here? He swallowed hastily.
“Uh, miss,” he said, “excuse me please. May I ask you a few questions? I’m a re...”
She had halted as soon as he had opened his mouth. By the time he’d got to the first syllable of “questions” her eyes flared in panic and she disappeared. She vanished!
What?
He didn’t see her turn or start to run. One moment she was frozen in terror and the next fraction of a second she was halfway down the alley and shrinking fast. In the rest of that second, she had reached the next street and was gone.
There was a thunk at his feet.
He’d dropped his notebook.
She covered that block before it flopped to the sidewalk. Matt stood there with his mouth open, as if awakening in another dimension. In that instant the whole direction of his life changed.
Minutes later, back in his truck, his mind was still roiling. Had he blacked out for a moment? Or had a migraine moment?
No. No, he hadn’t.
But he was shivering. It took three tries to get the key into the ignition. He started the engine and shifted into drive but kept his foot on the brake. He recalled her face, in detail, as she walked toward him: intelligent, miraculous, otherworldly. He would never forget that image, never forget that sensation. His heart was still pounding.
Had she really done that? How? For God’s sake, who was she?
WHAT was she?
Shaking his head to clear his eyes, he breathed deeply, and let up on the brake. The truck started rolling.
He would find her if it was the last thing he ever did.
A dog sniffing out a bone was nothing next to what he would do. He was a reporter, by George!
