“Heard what?” Charlie asked, his voice suddenly hushed as dread creeped over him, he stopped at the top of the steps of the first landing when she spoke, but Judy put her hand on his shoulder.
“We should go inside first.” Judy encouraged, lightly closing her fingers over his still doughy flesh, and Charlie nodded with a lump in his throat.
They made their way inside, Charlie turned the knob on his door and opened it to let them all inside.
“I ordered the dasher.” Sye said and put away his phone then followed the others to store the beer again, “Just a generic box of coffee and enough cups for all of us…” His pale freckled face was tense, his light colored pink lips pressed tight and tense.
“So…” Charlie cleared his throat and closed the door.
It clicked shut and Charlie turned around to face them just as the refrigerator closed out of view and they returned to the living area.
Charlie barely registered what Sye said, and hoarsely demanded, “What happened?”
“So… after Mileva left him for that job…” Mary folded her hands in front of her, “You know… the one she took after she got that recommendation?”
“Yesss… what about it?” Charlie asked, going over to his bed and sitting down on the edge of the mattress. He opened and closed his hands over and over until Judy came and sat at his right side, she covered his tense hand with hers and pressed it down so that he palmed his knee. The other hand stopped twitching, and Mary went on.
Her soft brown hair hung in a ponytail that swayed when she shook her head.
Mark picked up when she was unable to continue, “There was an accident… she was working on… kind of what you do… or… did.”
Charlie’s breath caught. “No way… there’s just no way! He almost shot to his feet with his eyes wide as saucers, “Nowhere in the world has the kind of equipment I worked with!”
“I don’t know about that… Charlie.” Philip interjected and approached, he put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “There’s just… just ‘gone’. They don’t know what she even did but… Josef will be back… but he’s got to see to her final affairs there. He’ll hold a funeral here when he returns.”
“When will that be?” Charlie asked, “He hasn’t called me… he hasn’t said anything to me… I’m sure of that…” Charlie insisted, but quietly thought, ‘...aren’t I?’ Entered his head and made itself at home in a way that he could not get rid of it.
The dasher arrived a moment later, the knock on the door drew Sye’s attention. He opened the entrance, accepted the food, signed the digital receipt and then closed the door a moment later.
The coffee box was large, brown, and angled like a trapezoid with a handle on top and a little white cap.
They were quiet while Sye carried the box and the little bag of cups into the kitchen.
There was only the sound of pouring liquid and the sight of steam rising from the little disposable brown cups.
Sye took the lead in pouring one for each of them, and one by one they approached, the earlier favorable mood turned somber and grim.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Sye was looking down, as most of them were, when he said, “Huh, I guess we missed something.” He then crouched down and picked up a little blue fragment of glass and set it into the white ashtray on the counter that held the other six pieces.
Charlie took a sip of coffee, opened his mouth to speak.
Then he woke up in his bed.
The room was empty, the apartment was empty, it was broad daylight out, a little black alarm clock ticked off another minute just as his eyes opened.
He turned his head to face the kitchen and there it was. The box of coffee, the set of cups, there was no steam coming out of them any longer, though he wasn’t sure from where he lay if they were empty or just cold.
The white cap wasn’t on the box anymore, and everything else seemed clean and normal.
Charlie rolled out of bed and looked himself over. He felt a tiny bit lighter, and made a mental note to buy a scale later. He was dressed in silk pajamas that were a vibrant bright blue shade, and had a vague memory of that being one of the sets he’d ordered. A quick shower in boiling hot water and a change of clothes later, then he went for the kitchen, passing the treadmill by and when he reached the counter, looked down to find the cups either empty or nearly so, he touched a finger to the black liquid. ‘Cold.’ He thought and felt suddenly a little chill run over the rest of him.
Still damp from the shower, the chill air caressed him like an eager lover and caused his body, but with discomfort rather than want or desire.
Returning to the living area, he found the window open and the faintest dusting of snow starting to fall outside. He approached, poked his head out, and looked around.
The dusting from above had been going for some time, that was clear, the road had slush made over it, the alley down below was coated so thoroughly that it was an unbroken sea of cloudy white.
The trees were naked, bare of their leaves and no evidence of birds was to be had.
The breeze which kissed his face was draining away the warmth of his body, and so Charlie drew his head back into the apartment and closed the window hard enough that the base of it let out a loud ‘smack’ noise immediately.
Charlie let out a shudder. “Nope… just… nope.” he said aloud and went to the kitchen again.
The object of his interest were the blue fragments, ‘How long ago did I break you?’ He asked himself, and then dumped them unceremoniously on the countertop.
He began to fit the pieces together, using the outline of the span between his thumb and forefinger as a backstop to hold the fragments of one side in place, then constructing it like an arch, he secured the others until he was looking down into a completed empty bowl.
“Hmpf, yup, that’s all the pieces.” Charlie said and let out a tiny sigh of relief, “It’s hard to believe a piece skittered all the way to the fridge but… stranger things have happened.” He snorted, every single day seemed to be proof of that at least.
He removed his hands and let the fragments fall backwards again when he heard the phone ringing with Beethoven’s ninth symphony.
Leaving the kitchen, he went to the end table, snatched it up off the charger, input the pin number and answered the call, he put it on speaker and said in a clear, loud voice, “You’ve got Charlie.”
He walked back to the kitchen and listened, at first there was nothing.
So Charlie approached his wine fridge and cracked it open. He could hear heavy breathing. “Hello?” He asked again and looked at the face of the phone.
‘Unknown number?’ he read it and pulled open a drawer.
A familiar bottle of wine, label up, stared back at him, and bore with it the memory of the woman who sold it to him, the puzzle, the radiant smile and the number he never called back…
Charlie took a deep breath, ‘No way to know… and it wouldn’t do any good anyway…’ He told himself, and realized the phone was still on and the call was still ongoing.
“Hello? If you’re saying anything, I can’t hear you. To whom am I speaking?” Charlie asked and closed the wine fridge before taking up the phone and returning to the bits of his broken bowl.
‘I’ll need some glue, I guess… if I want to fix that.’ He thought and opened the top of the trashcan.
He picked up the boxed coffee, it had some weight to it still. ‘About half full.’ He guessed, and then he glanced at the phone again.
“Listen if this is a pervert’s crank call, I’m an overweight male scientist, the only thing your breathing is going to do for me is give me a chance to do weird equations in my head, like figure out how much of your panting it would take to float a hot air balloon.”
Charlie almost hung up, he heard a voice at last instead of just the constant heavy breathing that had been there earlier.
“Ch-Charlie…?” Josef said, his voice was a broken ruin, the face of the cheerful jolly and gentle giant came immediately to mind and he could not match the voice to the face in his memories.
“Yeah! Yeah Josef, it’s me! Are you back, what’s going on?!” Charlie asked, his heart racing in haste.
He dropped the box of old coffee into the bin and gave the phone his full attention.
“I… no… yes… yes I’m back… Mileva… it’s… I-I need help. Please.” Josef whispered, his voice a shattered remnant of the booming one that filled any room that heard it, there was only one answer.
“Just stay in your apartment! I’ll be right there!” Charlie exclaimed, the phone hung up on the other end, and in one smooth motion, Charlie swept everything on the counter, fragments and old cups and all, into the bin, shoved his phone into his back pocket, then ran out of his apartment and into the snow, without looking back.