-Abraham Lincoln
-Abraham Lincoln
A few days later... Friday Evening
Thump.
The hard slamming of Mira's head against the wooden desk coupled with the shooting pain was what woke her up. Her head shot up, startled, as she took in her surroundings. After her blurry eyes adjusted to her surroundings, she quickly realized that she was in her office. She had fallen asleep on a pile of papers that she had been reorganizing, thanks to the unexpected disaster in her office from a few days earlier. A quick glance at the clock told her it was ten thirty at night, and that she should probably be headed home. With a yawn, she stood up, gathered her notebooks and papers, slid them into her book bag, and swung her book bag over her shoulder.
Making sure to lock up her office, Mira made her way towards the exit of the eerily empty building. She paused before stepping out the glass doors. Rain was pouring in sheets in the darkness outside. She sighed. "Figures," she muttered.
Momentarily placing her bag down, she slid on her jean jacket, buttoned it closed, picked up her bag again, and proceeded out the door into the cold, wet night. The prospect of walking through an empty campus at nearly eleven at night made her slightly nervous, making the normal fifteen to twenty minute walk from Hildebrand Hall to where she'd left her car only ten minutes, despite it seeming much longer. By the time she reached her car, she was thoroughly soaked. The thick material from her jacket weighed heavily on her shoulders, pressing the cold, wet material against her skin. She fished her keys out of her pocket and hurried to get into the car. She got in and immediately slid her key into the ignition, anxious to turn on the heater to warm her cold, trembling body.
Click.
Mira's brow creased. She turned the key again.
Click.
The car wouldn't start. It was dead.
Mira threw her head back against the seat, groaning loudly. She fished her cell phone out of her bag and immediately started running through the phone numbers she had saved. Her initial thought was to call Mike, but she remembered that he, along with Leanna, were still in Los Angeles at the conference for MBA students and wasn't scheduled to return until tomorrow. Justin, she knew, was out of town, visiting family.
She leaned her head against the steering wheel as she ran through the remaining list of possibilities. "Anne? No... she's at the beach with her boyfriend," she mumbled out loud to herself. "Brian? He's sick with pneumonia. David? Visiting his grandparents."
The elimination process continued through the entire listing of phone numbers. Every name was ruled out, much to Mira's chagrin. Every name, that is, except JC's. "Wonderful," she muttered.
How the number got in her phone she didn't know, although she vaguely remembered Leanna trying to tell her something about a phone number being programmed into her cell phone. Of course, Mira was fully engrossed in an episode of CSI at the time, and therefore nothing existed outside of the realm between Mira and the television set. Either way, JC's number was in her phone, and it appeared that she had no other choice but to call him, unless she wanted to walk the three miles home in the rain through the city of Berkeley in the middle of the night.
Knowing Berkeley, that wasn't such a good idea.
She hadn't seen him for more than a few minutes since Tuesday, when she'd encountered him in the hallway of Hildebrand Hall. Since then, she came home to him at her house, once or twice, watering the plants as he'd promised Leanna. Of course, the words they exchanged were limited and few, and usually the precursor to an argument. Therefore, calling him wasn't exactly something she looked forward to.
Mira turned the key one last time, just to make doubly sure that if she was going to call him, there really wasn't any other choice. Hearing the dreaded click once more, Mira sighed and pressed call.
"Hello?"
"Um... hi," said Mira hesitantly.
"Who's this?" he asked.
"It's Mira," she said softly.
"Mira?" he repeated. "What do you want?"
"Listen... I have a favor to ask of you," she said slowly.
"You? Ask me for a favor?" he scoffed. "Oh this better be good."
Mira rolled her eyes, thankful for the telephone conversation, otherwise, she'd probably be walking home that night. "Listen, JC, my car won't start and I'm stuck here on campus."
"So what are you calling me for?" said JC. "I'm not a mechanic."
"Obviously," muttered Mira, losing her patience. "JC, please, can you pick me up? I'm stuck here, and if I walk home, then I'd probably not make it home alive. Can you please do me this favor?"
"I-"
The communication abruptly ended. Mira glanced at her phone, reading the screen, flashing "low battery" repeatedly before the phone clicked off. Mira groaned and hit her head against the steering wheel for the second time in five minutes. What was she going to do now?
The knocking at the window appeared to be her answer. Mira jumped, startled. Standing just outside the window was the figure of a man dressed in black. Mira shakily reached down and manually rolled down the window. The small puddle that would form inside her car was worth being protected from the clutches of a serial killer.
"Hi?" asked Mira.
"Having some car trouble?" asked the man with a grin.
"Is it that obvious?" asked Mira with a nervous chuckle.
"Well, I was just driving by and saw you here," he said with a shrug. The raindrops slid off of his black nylon, hooded raincoat, falling in fat droplets inside the car and onto Mira's already wet clothes.
"Well, that was nice of you, but I already have someone coming to pick me up... I think," she added softly.
"I'm a mechanic," said the man. "My name's Chuck. Why don't you let me help you out?"
"Um, no really... I'm fine," said Mira with a shake of her head.
"I think I can get you up and running in ten minutes, max," said Chuck.
Mira momentarily pondered what he was offering. On one hand, he might be a psycho rapist, but that chances of that were slim. Of course, being out in the middle of the night and randomly stopping to help a stranger, albeit good Sumaritan-esque, it was definitely a sign of a freak. But, he might just be a good mechanic wanting to get a young woman home.
Taking the chance, Mira nodded. "Thank you, Chuck. I'll take you up on that."
"Great," said Chuck with a smile. "Do you think you could help me out, here? I mean, I know it's raining and all, but if I want to be done quickly, I need someone to hold the flashlight," he said, holding up the flashlight as proof.
Mira hesitantly nodded. "Um... okay. If it'll help me get out of her faster," she said, reaching down and pulling the hood release lever. Chuck stepped back as she opened the car door, allowing her to step out into the cold, pouring rain. Chuck promptly handed her the flashlight and moved around to the front of the car, unlatching the hood and propping it open. He scanned over the engine quickly, Mira standing at his side, holding the flashlight shakily, trembling from the cold.
Chuck suddenly reached up and slammed the hood closed, turning to Mira. Mira's brow creased in confusion. "What's wrong? Can you fix it?" she asked.
"Don't worry about the car, Mira," said Chuck.
Mira paused, staring at him. "Wait, I never told you my name. How did you-"
Her response was cut short by Chuck's hand wrapped around her throat. Mira dropped the flashlight and immediately began pulling and scratching at his hand desperately. She choked out a few small gasps, but the crushing feeling of suffocation around her throat was too much. Her eyes grew wide as she became more and more frantic. Her hands waved wildly, one hand hitting his arm, her strength draining from the hand clenched around her throat.
"Hey!"
Chuck turned around, letting Mira go. Mira immediately fell to the ground, gasping and choking for breath. "What do you think you're doing?" Mira looked up to see JC rushing towards Chuck. Chuck immediately swung at JC; a swing which JC expertly dodged. JC swung, hitting Chuck squarely in the jaw. The sound of Chuck's jaw popping echoed in Mira's ears. As Chuck struggled for a moment, wincing at the pain in his jaw, JC rushed over to Mira, quickly helping her to her feet. "Are you okay?" he asked immediately, looking her over. Mira silently nodded. "Come on," he said, pulling Mira towards the waiting car. They both jumped in, and not a split second later, the car squealed away, leaving Chuck behind.
Mira sat on the edge of her seat, trembling. JC looked over at her trembling form and immediately turned on the heater, adjusting the vents so they aimed for Mira. A few silent minutes into the drive, Mira realized that they weren't headed towards her home. "Where are we going?" she squeaked.
"The police," said JC, his eyes focused on the road. "We'd better report that psycho now before we forget anything. They can check you and make sure you're okay."
"Oh," said Mira softly.
A few silence filled minutes later, JC glanced over at Mira. She sat in the seat, staring out the window, watching the fat droplets of rain sliding down the glass window, matching the few tears sliding down her cheeks. Hating to see her like that, he reached down and flipped on the radio, quickly finding the opening notes to a very familiar song. Unable to resist the tune, and hoping, deep down, to take Mira's mind off of the events of earlier, he began singing aloud.
"In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs," he began. "Of every head he's had the pleasure to know. And all the people that come and go stop and say hello."
Mira slowly turned her attention away from the window to JC. She regarded him curiously as he sang, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel with the beat of the song.
"On the corner is a banker with a motorcar; the little children laugh at him behind his back. And the banker never wears a mack in the pouring rain-" JC stole a quick glance to Mira out of the corner of his eyes. "Very strange... Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes. There, beneath the blue suburban skies, I sit and meanwhile back..."
A small smile came to Mira's lips as she watched him, finding comfort in the sound of his voice. Despite the fact that it was her firm belief that no one could sing a Beatles song like the original, JC singing softly to the classic soothed her wrought emotions. Tears kept sliding down her cheeks, but she smiled at an oblivious JC, silently thanking him for a brief moment of calmness.
A seemingly endless drive later, the pulled up in front of the Berkeley police station. JC wordlessly jumped out of the car and made his way around to the passenger's side, opening the car door for Mira. She stared at JC, warm tears streaming down her cheeks. "He knew my name," she whispered.
Wordlessly, Mira jumped into JC's arms, weeping. JC wrapped his arms around her, holding her cold, trembling body close against his. "It'll be okay," he whispered, stroking her hair.
"I was so scared," she sobbed.
"I know," said JC softly. "I know."
JC held the glass door open for Mira as they stepped out of the police station. It was well past three in the morning. They'd stayed at the station, helping the police draw a composite sketch of "Chuck", taking pictures of the fresh bruises forming around Mira's throat, and filling out a police report. Throughout the entire ordeal, JC had stayed beside Mira, holding her hand as she fought off the tears that kept coming as the delayed sense of fear struck her again and again.
JC unlocked the car and both got in and took off, headed towards Mira's home. The entire drive remained silent, minus the soft sounds of the radio. It was then that Mira noticed the CD case lying in the CD holder in the center console. Mira slowly picked it up, smirking. "Rachel Farris?"
"So?" said JC.
"Chick rock?" asked Mira.
"It's Leanna's," said JC with a shrug. Mira giggled softly and placed the CD back in its place. "JC... thank you, for everything... again," she said softly.
"You're welcome," said JC, keeping his eyes on the road.
"No, really, JC," said Mira, leaning across the seats, placing her hand on his arm. "I'm serious. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Who knows what could've happened if you hadn't showed up." JC slowed the car in the driveway of Mira's home.
"And I said that you're welcome," said JC, placing his hand over hers. "Besides, I don't think Leanna would like it too much if she came back home to suddenly have no best friend."
Mira smiled. "So... does this mean that I have to stop hating you now?"
JC paused. "Oh, I don't know. The hate always adds a little spontaneity to our lives," he said with a small smile.
Mira giggled. "Truce?" she asked, holding her hand out.
"Truce," said JC, shaking it.
They paused in an awkward silence. The spaces between them were usually filled with yelling, screaming, and spiteful words. Now they struggled to learn their way around the fighting.
"So I'll see you at the airport tomorrow to pick up Leanna?" asked Mira.
"You mean today," said JC, tapping the clock, reminding her of the time. Mira rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "And yes, I will see you then. Two o'clock."
"Two o'clock," repeated Mira with a nod. "So... goodnight," she said, pulling the handle for the door beside her.
"Goodnight," said JC, watching her as she slid out the door.
"And thank you again," said Mira.
"And you're welcome, again," said JC with a smile. Mira smiled in return and closed the door, running up the walkway to her door. JC remained in the driveway until he saw Mira successfully enter the house. As she stepped inside, she offered him one last wave. That was enough for JC to know that she was fine. With that, he backed out of the driveway, ready to head home and sleep off the stresses of the evening.
