34

 

The Knight consumed half a pill with his Thanksgiving breakfast. Just enough to help him summon the courage to call his beloved Beth but not so much so to quench his desire to rescue her from the likes of scoundrels such as Mark Graham. So hard to contain his enthusiasm. Not the same as conversing with his lady fair face-to-face but exhilarating nonetheless. At least she would hear his voice.

He wouldn’t stay on long to avoid allowing Riversdale PD the opportunity to trace the call. And he was smart enough to use a prepaid cell phone. One he’d toss afterward. So no concerns about the conversation being traced back to him. Pleasing and irritating at the same time. If society wasn’t so backward, they’d understand his motives. Then there would be no reason to stay in hiding, no need to contact Beth in secret.

While waiting for the pill to take full effect, the Knight entered his shrine to Beth and lit the candles surrounding her photo. He grabbed a paper from his table—a printout from the faculty page of Riversdale Community College’s website. After he tore the paper in two, the Knight proceeded to burn Mark Graham’s image. When finished, the Knight approached Beth’s photo. “It’s OK. I’m here to rescue you. I’m your Knight. Worry no more, my fair maiden. Soon, you will be free. Mark Graham will no longer hurt you. And you and I will be together. The way it should be.”

Confident his pills had kicked in, the Knight turned on the prepaid cell phone and dialed Beth’s number. Poor helpless girl. Didn’t even know to make her number unlisted. He’d have to instruct her on the finer points of safety once they were together. His heart raced with each ring of the phone.

“Hello?” Beth answered.

The Knight gripped the arm of his couch. Words were not coming as he’d hoped. But he’d planned ahead. On the coffee table sat a CD player. The Knight played the song he’d chosen for Beth. As a ballad of friendship and love played in the background, the Knight closed his eyes and sat in meditation.

“Hello? Who is this?” Beth asked then hung up the phone.

“Noooo.” The Knight snorted and knocked his palm to his forehead. “Oh sure, I can talk to her now.” He tossed his pills across the room. “Worthless medication. Never helps me do what I want to do.”

Pills did nothing but turn him into a quiet, repressed man. Nice for those concerned with following society’s norms but clearly not for him.