Life has a way of turning events on their heads.
What was supposed to be another rescue mission for Maitho had turned into something more complicated. Just who were the Crays? Why did they possess so much information about him? What were they planning to do to him?
The more questions Maitho asked, the more he received in return. His own mind felt claustrophobic, with queries and puzzles all crammed in together. Without any answers, he would only stuff even more questions into his already burdened mind. He needed a quiet place to organize his thoughts.
When he had escaped the Cray residence, he instantly took the first route that his panicked mind suggested. He was driving back to his apartment.
What if they are following me right now? Or worse, what if they have someone waiting for me at home?
The idea that someone had broken into his home made Maitho's privacy feel violated. He didn't know how long the Crays had been observing him, but judging from the rich information they had about him, he was willing to bet that they had been keeping an eye on him for quite a while.
Another thought struck Maitho.
If they had been watching him, then did they know he would be arriving at their residence?
Maitho wanted to think. He had to figure things out and even though he dreaded to admit it, he did not feel safe returning home.
He saw a turn present itself and a thought struck him. There was a place that he could go to, if only to collect his thoughts. It was a small cafe and if Maitho's memory served him right, then it would be open to business at this time of the night. Unlike most cafes however, this joint was located in a quiet neighborhood. Despite its isolated location, it still attracted a decent crowd, most of whom lived in the surrounding areas. While the crowd would be sparse this late into the night, it was at least a public location with a few people around. The idea of being alone after experiencing what he just did distressed Maitho.
An ambulance went past him in the opposite direction. Maitho looked into his rear view mirror at the dance of blue and red lights fading away into the distance. A memory began to pillage through the chaos of his mind and made its way to the surface of his consciousness. It was a memory he knew well and even if he were to somehow forget all the events stored in his brain's storage system, he would probably never forget the events depicted in the memory.
He remembered the time he was in an ambulance, nearly two years ago. For some reason, his time inside the medical vehicle were hazy. From the point of the accident he was involved in, the earliest memory he could recollect was when he had woken up on the hospital bed.
Machines beeped nearby. Narrow tubes transported fluids into his body. The overhead lamp cast a dim glow, bright enough to illuminate the bed properly but place the rest of the room in partial darkness.
Maitho began to move his body and found no parts behaving abnormally. When he was confident that he had sufficient motor functions, he allowed his body to relax and stared up at the ceiling, a sense of hopelessness crowding his thoughts. A single tear escaped the corner of his eye and made its journey towards his ear.
The accident that he was part of was the latest disaster in a series of events that was propelling his life in a downward spiral. His landlord had served him his evacuation notice earlier that day. Since there was no contract between him and the landlord, Maitho had no basis for an argument. He was still unemployed, which meant that he could not exactly provide his landlord with a viable solution for the rent. With the accident placed on the pile of problems he now faced, he suddenly felt uncertain about his whole life.
And there was the hospital's bills to pay.
Maitho wondered if the doctors would accept a suggestion for euthanasia on the grounds that he was too broke. The thought made him chuckle and he discovered that his ribs hurt if he made any sudden movements. No laughing. That's just perfect. He couldn't even make light of his own situation without pain.
The door to the room opened and a man sporting a black suit and tie entered. He closed the door softly behind him and proceeded to drag a chair towards Maitho's bed. When he was sufficiently close, he sat down with his back straight and his legs placed close together. He straightened his tie and looked at Maitho expressionlessly.
Maitho wondered if the man was from law enforcement. Or he could even be a lawyer. Or was he a journalist who was looking for a scoop?
Young man a victim of city's drunk drivers. Maitho could almost imagine the title.
"Maitho Oruba. 20 years old. Involved in a hit-and-run incident. Two broken ribs. Severe bleeding. Unlikely to recover quickly," said the man without preamble. He spoke as though he was checking off items in a mental list.
Maitho faced the ceiling and closed his eyes. The fact that he was reminded of the gravity of the situation filled him with a sense of emptiness.
"No job. No relationships," said the man, continuing to speak without a hint of concern. "No family."
"I am well aware of my predicament. I am unsure what you are after, but I have nothing to offer you."
"I beg to differ."
Maitho opened his eyes and looked at the man. He was leaning forward in his chair with the same look of impassivity that he had shown when he first entered the room.
"I could use a job," said Maitho, reflecting upon his employment status.
"I am offering something different. I am offering a proposal."
"What kind of proposal?"
"The life saving kind."
Maitho hadn't been part of many social interactions in the past few years, but he was fairly confident that he was a somewhat good judge of character. The man sitting near him held no humor or mischief in his eyes. There was no madness there.
"How are you going to save my life?" said Maitho.
The man sat back in his chair and relaxed, as though he was expecting Maitho to ask the question. He ran his hand along his tie again. It seemed as that he was rather fastidious about keeping his tie straight.
"I will pay for your medical bills."
The response was so sudden that Maitho could not speak for a moment. When the meaning of the words struck him, it pierced through the tension and hopelessness that was building up inside him. It was like opening a valve and entirely releasing what it was holding back. Maitho burst out laughing, despite the pain the action caused. He allowed himself to vent out the dread and despair that he was holding on to. The man simply looked on without even showing a modicum of fluctuation in his facial expression.
When Maitho was finished, he felt slightly better. A thought entered his mind.
"If it is a proposal, then I have to provide something in return," said Maitho.
"Yes."
"Mister...?"
"Charon"
"Like the mythical ferryman" said Maitho, a hint of amusement entering his voice. "Is that your real name?"
"It is."
"And what are you here to ferry?"
"Hope."
Maitho wondered if all of this was one big con. Sometimes, crazy people are able to conceal their craziness well to the point that they appear to function as normal people.
"What will I have to do?"
The man paused before responding, as though he was contemplating how best to phrase the message. "You will be a guardian."
"I am not interested in a religious cult."
"Nor will you be part of one."
"And I am not going to hurt people."
"On the contrary, you will be saving them."
Thoughts began to worm their way into Maitho's mind. Was he really that desperate that he will accept a stranger's proposal? Surely they must be another solution. Maitho hoped fervently that he was not about to become a messenger to a crime syndicate or sign up for an illegal organ harvesting enterprise.
"What tasks does this guardian role entail?" said Maitho.
Charon took a deep deep breath before proceeding. "You will be given a vision. In the vision, you will witness someone dying. You will also receive a name. Your task is to save the person. If you do, you get one more month to live. And if you don't, you will not survive the end of the month."
The words uttered by Charon sounded so absurd, that Maitho could only ask a simple question. "Why one month?"
Charon stood up from his chair and looked down at Maitho. His face was still placid, but there was suddenly a look of gravity in his eyes that worried Maitho. "Because you are dying. Your accident was fatal, despite how well you think you feel. You really have only one month left to live. I can provide you a temporary lease on life. So what do you say Maitho Oruba?"
The sounded of a car's horn jolted Maitho out of his reverie. He shook the lingering effects of the memory and focused on his driving. A few more turns on the road and he would arrive at his destination.
When he reached the cafe, he was thankful for an empty parking slot. He parked his car in reverse so that he could make a quick getaway if the time came for it and exited the vehicle. He looked around, trying to see if there were any suspicious individuals around. The street was empty and Maitho felt a small amount of tension dissipate within him.
The cafe itself presented an atmosphere that one can find in most cafes; yellow lighting that cast a warm light, walls decorated with abstract art that was supposed to appeal to a certain generation, and walnut-colored tables that were probably used to present an earthy feel to the whole place. A few of the tables were occupied, but Maitho found one table at the corner that would give him a clear view of the entrance.
He checked his pockets and counted the money he had on him, and then proceeded to match his available funds to the prices on the menu. Apparently, he could only afford a bottle of water and a small muffin. Or he could have two bottles of water. He considered his options for a while and then walked up to the cafe counter. The barista manning the cash register presented him with a smile that did not reach her eyes, as though she was saying that she was meant for better things in life but sadly, she took the job to keep the cash flow steady.
"Do you have anything that is very spicy?" said Maitho.
The lady behind the counter looked at Maitho as though he had suddenly performed a jig in a clown uniform. "No, I am afraid we don't."
"Nevermind. A bottle of water, please. And that red velvet muffin."
The barista punched in his order while Maitho counted his money. In the end, he placed the entire wad of bills on the counter. When his order arrived in a tray, he was satisfied to notice that they had placed a stainless steel knife and fork for the muffin.
Maitho gave her a warm smile, collected his tray, and walked over to his table. On his way, he pocketed the cutlery. He was now armed, albeit with crude weapons. Facing the entrance, he unscrewed the bottle cap and downed nearly half the contents of the bottle, allowing the cool liquid to calm his nerves.
The cafe won't be open for the entire night and Maitho would have to find a place to lie down and catch a few hours of sleep. He could sleep in his car in front of the cafe, which meant that the morning crowd that entered the coffee shop would not only wake him up, but would give him some comfort in numbers. After all, no one would attack him in broad daylight with a large number of witnesses.
But what about when he was asleep?
Maitho realized that the only reason he chose this cafe was that while it was crowded, it wasn't too crowded. If he had chosen to be somewhere in the middle of the city, then he would be looking at the faces of every person who passed by him. Did that person give him a suspicious look? Why is that individual dressed that way?
There was no other way to put it, but Maitho was getting paranoid. He couldn't help it. His entire life was exposed and the thought that someone had been watching his every moment for who knew how long made his skin crawl. He had never found himself in a situation such as this. And he hated himself for reacting without putting much thought into his actions.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice the figure standing next to his car, looking directly at him.
Maitho watched the figure through the ceiling to floor windows of the cafe, hoping that the person had him mistaken for someone else. He sat back in his chair and surreptitiously placed his hands on his thighs, ready to take out the makeshift weapons he had in his pocket.
After another few seconds of waiting, the figure entered the cafe. He slowly walked towards Maitho's table.
Maitho cautiously slipped his hands in his pocket, grabbing the handle on the knife. If it came down to it, he would fight back, even though there would be witnesses. He would worry about the consequences later. Even though he would not attack to kill, he could inflict enough damage to provide him with an opportunity to escape.
The red-haired young man with freckles on his face, who had earlier been staring at him from outside the cafe, now stood a few feet away from Maitho's table.
He is being cautious.
"I know how this might seem, but I come in peace," said the red-haired man.
"That is left to be seen," said Maitho.
The man raised his hands. "My name is Bevan Lugos. I get a three month time period to save someone from death. And I am here to tell you that you are not alone."
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