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KHYLA
Matthew is driving through the busy streets and I’m trying to interpret his thoughts. It’s impossible! As far as I strive, he has self confessed even pretending that I don’t exist.
We are now in front of a skyscraper and he park the Volvo in the only empty place.
«Let’s go, Khyla. They’re waiting for us.»
As we go through the automatic door, I look at the plaques pointing to the various activities inside the building, trying to understand where he is leading me, but he goes so fast that I can’t read anything.
Luck is probably still on our side, because we can get to the lifts without arousing interest in anyone. Matthew presses the button of the twentieth floor. I notice that the lift has a glass paret looking outside. I cannot help but admire the vertical show of this area of the city. So, as the elevator rises fast, my gaze goes to the underlying road that moves away more and more and the optical effect produces a strong sense of nausea on me. I’m beginning to come out in a cold sweat, but Matthew’s hand squeezes mine and I feel better right away.
The elevator opens directly into a large office with a lot of employees who work hard. Some are answering the phone, others are working at the computer or looking at big sheets of paper with designes that... I don’t understand.
Matthew walks fast through the central corridor and goes straight to the end of the big office. He talks to a young woman with ear buds on, who looks at us boldly. She’s wearing a suit that surely costs as much as my poor penitentiary salary.
«You are mister...?» she asks to Matthew, meanwhile sending him clear subliminal messages. She crosses her legs, the chin resting on her hands, the languid eyes are all signs of her interest in my partner. Even though he has now dark eyes and bushy curly hair. If she knew what he was really like, she would certainly have already put her phone number in the pocket of his shirt. Instead, to me, she reserve a compassionate look, as if I didn’t deserve so much goodness. Of course the tiredness and the big rubber-foam belly are not helping, but I’m not so ugly. What a goose she is! If I could, I’d punch the face of that asshole to take away her pity expression.
«I’m Carl Grasshopper. I’ve got an appointment at nine.»
The receptionist starts playing with the pencil and to put the lip gloss in a sensual way. Then she speaks in the intercom to announce our arrival.
«Please, go in. The president is waiting for you.» she says with a reassuring big smile.
Approaching the door of the office, I notice that Matthew’s jaw stiffens, and I know this doesn’t promise anything good.
I decide to take over the reins of the situation. I open the door and enter the room greeting as cordially as I can. This surprises Matthew that follows me with a grim look. I’ve got the impression that is going to happen something irreparable.
In front of us there is the president sitting on the swivel chair, looking over the big window. He looks very much intent on observing some detail of the skyscraper in front of him.
«Please, mister Grasshopper, come in. Among the many opportunities, I think I have the apartment that suits you.»
Apartment? We are fleeing. What does he want to do? Is he buying an apartment? What a stupid idea...
The president suddenly turns and I can finally observe his face. He’s a good looking man with grayish hair, green eyes and a square jaw. He’s got a warm, charming smile, but when he looks at Matthew I can see on his face an expression of pure terror.
«Is it you? What are you doing here?» he asks with trembling voice, while trying to take the phone on his desk.
«Stop and nothing will happen to you.»
I don’t understand anything. I turn to Matthew and I too sink in a sensation of fear and horror. With a lightning movement he pulled the gun with which he kidnapped me. I don’t know why, but I was sure he got rid of it during the escape from Los Angeles. Yet he’s got it in his hand and he’s pointing it to an helpless man.
«Matthew, what are you doing? Put it down» I whisper.
«Leave me alone, Khyla. Hard ways works better, with certain people, isn’t it George?»
George? As soon as I hear this name, the ideas begins to clear up, but fear grows even more. Matthew organized this appointment to revenge on Tracy’s father, guilty of having him locked up in jail. My God! I soon will be witness of a murder!
«Go back with the swivel chair to the window, George. I’m not going to let you activate the alarm.»
He obeys keeping his eyes on the gun.
«What do you want from me, Matthew?»
«Guess it...»
«If you kill me, you’ll be lost. The police will catch you and the judges will condemn you to the electric chair.»
«I’m not worrying about dying. And you, George?»
He removes the weapon’s safety and advances a few steps.
«Why are you doing this?» the man whispers and I would like to make the same question, but it is as if the words drained in my throat.
«You asking me? Do you know what does it mean to go in jail at 21 years old? What for? For following my heart?»
«That’s not true. You’re a pedophile. It’s just your fault if you went in jail. You ruined my daughter and squashed the respect I had for you. I welcomed you as a son and you betrayed my trust. You’re a bastard, a cruel man. You abused Tracy to satisfy your cravings.»
«No, you are wrong. I loved Tracy and still love her!» he exclaims aloud. To these words my heart goes in thousands pieces. Despite the things we are experiencing together, his thoughts are still all for her, after all this years. When he ends his confession, I see that Matthew still breaths heavily for a few seconds, then tries to recompose himself. When the anger seems to be over, he starts speaking calmly again.
«I’m not here to kill you, even though I’m not going to rule out that I will do it, if you force me. But I want to know where is Tracy now. My friends looked for her and they are sure she’s not in Los Angeles anymore.»
«I won’t tell you. I turned her away from me, to save her from your unworthy love. A real man would have told me what he felt, he would have told me his emotions. You, however, have done everything in secret. You didn’t have the courage to tell to me and your mother your feeling for Tracy. She doesn’t deserve a man without spine. She is now safe in another State.»
«You can’t do this to me. Yes, I was wrong. I was young and insecure. Yet it isn’t right for me, to pay for this. We could try to forget it all, once and for all. Help me, George. I want to see her, talk to her. I want to meet my son.»
That is what he really wants. He doesn’t want to stay with me far away from the prison that intoxicated him inside. He just wants Tracy and his son. He admit this with so much candor, that I would feel tenderness for him if he didn’t treat my feelings. Yes, he was always sincere to me, but to hear him saying these words, when he’s pointing a gun to his stepfather’s temple, really makes me understand that the idea to stay forever with him one day is just an illusion. No. I don’t belong to him and he doesn’t belong to me. I shake my head disconsolate and focus my attention on George who, with a challenge air, is throwing fire words, hitting Matthew directly in the deep.
«About your son is too late. He was born dead. We buried him in a little cemetery in Los Angeles before Tracy leaved and started her new life. You’re a piece of shit. You ruined her existence, that of your son and that of your mother. Since you went in prison she is in and out the psychiatric hospitals.»
I see that Matthew is falling under the weight of those revelations. I try to approach him cautiously.
«Matthew, let’s go away. We’re only complicating our situation. If you had followed my advice, at this time we would be in Mexico.» I use a sweet tone not to disrespect him, but actually I’m really upset and I too need to be reassured and comforted. Why can’t he forget the past once and for all? I’m here, imploring for his love and he still thinks about Tracy.
To these words George head to Matthew with a bad grim. «This is the love you have for my daughter. You want to see her and meanwhile you go with another woman. And I should let you meet her again? Never!»
Matthew suddenly cross the desk and points the gun to George’s forehead.
«Khyla is just a friend. She’s helping me. I love her but this feeling has nothing to do with the one I have for Tracy.»
Once again Matthew is killing me with his words. There’s nothing to say or to add to this peremptory declaration. He loves me as a friend, an adventure companion, nothing more than this. Why life has to be so unjust?
Matthew continues: «George, I told you I don’t want to kill you, but this costs a bit. You have five seconds to tell me where Tracy is, or I’ll kill you without mercy.»
«One... two... three... four... fi...»
As he counts, I close my eyes not to see. I really think it’ll be impossible to stop his fury.
«She is in Nevada, by an aunt of my dead wife... you’ll find the address in my agenda.»
Matthew calms down, but is still pointing the gun to George’s head.
«Good, you’re reasoning now. Khyla, take the agenda and put it in your bag. Then pull a wire from the computer and use it to tie this bastard. Can you?»
I don’t answer. Of course I’m able to do it... I’m an expert about inextricable knots. I was head-scout at high school. Matthew goes back a few steps to let me tie Tracy’s father.
«Now, Khyla, bring the chair near the desk. Then you’ll active the intercom and George will say to the receptionist that he has a buisiness to be carried out and that he doesn’t want to be disturbed till 10 o’clock.»
«What if I won’t do it?» George tries to protest.
«At your own risk» exclaims Matthew, approaching the gun to his head.
«Ok, ok...»
I active the intercom and George pronounces all the words that Matthew suggested.
«Now, Khyla, shut his mouth with the adhesive tape.»
«Don’t you think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, Matthew?»
«Khyla, what do you think? If you’re not going to do as I said, as soon as we’re out he’ll start screaming and we will be arrested.»
Actually there’s no other choice. So I shut his mouth with the tape. Matthew puts the gun back in the pocket and tells me to go out. We open and close the door as quickly as possible to prevent anyone from seeing the president gagged and tied up.
Fortunately they are all too busy to see what’s happened. We go away with extreme naturalness, as if nothing had happened. Even though in my heart the Third World War has broke out.
