Doc Masterson and the Prisoner of Time, Chapter 7
The Plot ThickensDoc Masterson’s been in the superhero game for most of his life. But his powers are more dependable than his mental health. Lured out of retirement by his old friend, the telepath Paul Drake and the mysterious organization The Apparatus, Masterson acclimates to post-Tokyo lifeChapter 7: The Plot ThickensA week passed. I didn’t leave my apartment. Every night Emmarita would make me dinner and talk to me about her family. She talked about the Tokyo incident sometimes and even asked for Isabel’s signature to give to her youngest daughter. I was keeping a pretty low profile.
And I was doing a great job until someone knocked at my door. I peered through the peephole. It was Paul, standing there dressed in his full uniform of slacks and polo shirt. I guess this was an official visit. I opened the door and let him in.
“How are you, John?” he asked.
“Interrupted,” I replied.
“Oh?” he asked.
“Yeah…” I said, my bluff called.
Paul sighed. “The reason I came here was business.”
No kidding. We sat down in my living room.
“John, I need to know how committed you are to our program here.”
“You want to know how committed I am?” I pondered it for a second. “As long as the Earth is in imminent danger, I will help you,” I decided.
“I need more than help, John. I need to know if you are in it to the end.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Paul,” I said slowly. “I’m not going to work for the Apparatus. I don’t believe in what they’re doing. I’m only helping you. Paul Drake. Telepath. Formerly of the Dysfunctionalists.
“Can’t you at least try to see what we are doing as good?” Paul asked. “Don’t you see that we have to do it?”
“You don’t HAVE to do anything,” I countered. “You people chose this. The Apparatus is hypocritical, and that’s why I never joined your little secret society.”
“We’re doing the best we can,” Paul said. He sighed. He seemed to have developed a habit of compulsive, frustrated sighs. “I understand how you feel. But really need you, John.”
I couldn’t say no. “I’ll be there,” I told him.
He smiled, got up, came over to me, and shook my hand. “Thanks, John. We all really appreciate it.”
“No worries,” I said. I guess we both knew everything was conditional.
Paul went to the window and looked out over the city. “Do you go out these days, John? Do you hang out with friends?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Are you taking your medications?”
“Yes.”
“When was the last time you left the apartment?”
“I don’t know…” I said. “Not since I got back from Tokyo.”
“Jeez, man. Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
“No, no thanks,” I said.
“I’m not taking no for an answer, not on this one, John. You need some air.”
“Ug,” I muttered.
“We’ll go for a quick drink and that’s all,” Paul said.
“I thought you said a quick walk, Paul? Now it’s a drink? Soon to be dinner, or a trip to Vegas?” Paul shot me a look that made me acquiesce. “Okay,” I said.
It was a Thursday night and the air was cool, but the streets were busy. It wasn’t so bad.
“You still talk to Harry?” Paul asked.
“All the time.”
“What is he up to these days?”
“Well,” I said, “Not much. He has his farm, and he pretty much stays there all the time. He doesn’t go out in public much. He’s married now though. Got a kid.”
“What about him?” Paul suggested.
“What about him?” I asked, confused.
“Do you think he would help us out?”
“Jesus,” I said. “You always have these little plans everywhere like spider webs. Are you ever not working Paul?”
“I have a difficult job,” Paul argued.
“Yeah, but you volunteered for it.”
“Someone had to!” Paul was angry. “After Jenny died it certainly wasn’t going to be you. You still haven’t put yourself back together! Don’t you see that?”
“I’m doing the best I can,” I hissed.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know how to live without her, okay?” I was angry too.
“You have to let her go,” Paul said. “I could help you…”
“No telepathy,” I answered. “I’m going to get through this… I just haven’t yet.” Jenny immediately flashed into my mind. It’s as if I can see her: tall and slim, her red hair, those grey eyes. I didn’t realize how empty my life was until she filled it. She changed my life. And then she lost her mind. And I lost her.
“She’s not dead,” I murmured.
“Yes, she is, John.”
“I can still feel her,” I continued.
“She’s gone, she’s gone forever. You have to accept this.”
We said nothing more until we reached the closest bar. It was dark and crowded inside.
“Doesn’t being around this many people hurt you mind?” I asked Paul.
“No, that’s not really a problem anymore. I can better control my telepathy as I get older. When I was a kid though, yeah, I could never stand a place like this.”
I was silent. I felt detached, like a ghost. Paul ordered beers for the both of us, and we found a sliver of the bar to lean against. Once the bartender handed me the beer I quickly sipped from it. The taste was reassuring.
Paul drank his beer, silenced for the moment. I slipped into daydreams. I tried to remember where all this had begun.
“What are you thinking about?” Paul asked.
“Can’t you see for yourself?”
“I don’t like to invade my friends’ minds.”
“Can you really help it?”
Paul gave out one of his sighs. “I try to be principled.”
“And yet you work for the Apparatus?” I felt a sneer crawl onto my face.
“Just because you don’t believe in our principles doesn’t mean that they are invalid. You just don’t have any faith.”
“I have faith,” I said.
“In what?”
I took a long sip of beer. “I have faith in the future. I think things are going to get better.”
“Me too,” Paul agreed. “The Apparatus is working towards that.”
“I don’t trust them,” I said. “I trust you, Paul, but I don’t trust them.”
“Why? How can you trust me but not them?”
“I don’t know. They smell bad.”
“Come on, John.” He was annoyed.
“I just don’t believe,” I confessed. “I don’t understand how you people can all share in this insane dream to remake the world.”
“The world needs a guiding hand,” Paul said.
We ordered more beer. My head was getting warm.
“Do you really want me to talk to Harry?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you trying to build a team?”
“You got it.”
“What is it you are frightened of?” I took more sips of beer.
“I don’t know,” Paul said. “I just want to be ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“For anything. We have no fucking clue here, John.”
“I know,” I said. “I know… Who else do you want?”
“Well, Violet of course.”
“That might be impossible.”
“Try it anyway,” he said. “Violet will help us, I know it.”
“Well, I will talk to Harry.”
“Thank you.” He stared into me. “Why are you here, John?”
“This is the only thing I know how to do.”
We ordered chicken fingers. They were greasy but delicious. Or maybe I was just drunk. Either way I had to admit I felt really good.
Uh-oh. I was drunk.
“I don’t think I can stand for very much longer,” I said. And the next thing I knew I collapsed to the floor.
“You asshole! You’re not supposed to drink while on those medications, are you?” Paul was strikingly angry.
“Fuck you,” I spat.
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 8Happy Thursday, everyone! One step closer to that sweet, sweet weekend. A few updates today, but I didn’t get in a new Midnight Man like I wanted. Well, I’ll have one later today for sure.
The Black Sorcery of Yelena BulgakovaThe conclusion. This story actually has been getting some good retweets on Twitter. Not bad for a story I didn’t think anybody but me would ever enjoy.
The Black Sorcery of Yelena Bulgakova, Conclusion
The VISUAL Festering Wound of Stephen KingChapter 2 of this is up on Medium. I don’t think I posted it on WordPress, but I will. I’m really getting into this. It’s nice for me to have varied actives, because I have a short attention span.
The VISUAL Festering Wound of Stephen King, Chapter 2
The VISUAL He-ThingIn case you missed it, here’s the first chapter. The second chapter is on WordPress, but I forgot about Medium. This is getting confusing.
The VISUAL He-Thing, Chapter 2
That’s it! See you tomorrow!
–Matt
