He Found Me

Part One Mia

I hung up the phone on my last call of the day. It was brutal. A mother whose son was looking at life for breaking into a house and killing an old man. I needed a drink, but it would have to wait until I got home. I’d seen too many DUI videos to ever drive drunk.

I’d been working for Al for five years. He was semi-successful defense attorney, but he didn’t make much money. Criminals don’t have money. If they do, they save it for things like drugs and alcohol. I kept telling Al to collect his fee up front, but he kept telling me he “believed” them when they said they’d bring it in before the first pretrial. As long as I got paid….

I pulled into the small bar and grill I’d frequented since moving to Largo ten years before. The waitress, Sara, knew me and nodded when she saw me walk in. She was taking someone’s order, so I seated myself in the booth by the kitchen door. It was unofficially mine. I sat facing front so I could see people walk in, but they couldn’t see me.

Sara came over and greeted me. She was about my age, around forty-four, but she didn’t seem to mind being on her feet all day. It would have killed me. She was always quick with a smile, too, and a sympathetic ear.

“Did you hear about that young singer?” she said.

“I don’t keep up. Why, what happened?”

“He’s disappeared. His manager left him alone for a few minutes, and when he returned, the guy had vanished. It’s been days since anyone has seen him.”

“Wow. What’s his name?”

“Jason Taylor. He used to be in that boy band in the 90s.”

“Gee, I hope they find him.”

“I just keep wondering what will happen to all his money. Of course, I would think that.”

Sara laughed. I gave her my order and she left me alone. There weren’t many patrons at this time of day, but I was a familiar face.

“Hey, Mia.”

I smiled and waved. Old Bill was a regular, too, and he lifted his beer in salute. There was a guy at the other end of the bar. He’d lifted his head when he heard my name, but I didn’t recognize him. Still, he looked familiar, and I kept watching him. He was watching the sports news and sipping a beer. I wished I could remember where I’d seen him before.

When Sara brought my food, I asked her about him.

“No, this is the first time I’ve seen him,” she said. “He’s cute though, and small like you. No more than five four I’d say. Like a jockey. Talk to him before you leave.”

“No, I’m not interested in that stuff anymore. I just thought you might know his name.”

“Do you want me to ask?” she said winking.

“No, please don’t.”

The guy paid his tab and left, and I finished eating. I didn’t see him in the parking lot when I left, but it kept nagging at me that I knew this guy from somewhere. That kind of shit drives me crazy.

Mario greeted me when I got home. He wrapped himself around my legs, and I waited until he’d finished claiming me before walking away. He jumped on the counter, and I rubbed my hand over the length of his body to the tip of his tail while he arched his back. I grabbed a can of food out of the cabinet and emptied it into his bowl. His tail swished back and forth as he nibbled away at his turkey and gravy, and I filled a glass with wine before settling into my recliner.

In the last five years, I’d made a good life for myself. I had a job, and in this economy, that was something. I owned this doublewide mobile home and everything in it, and a late model Scion in good running condition. Mario and I were well fed, so I had no complaints.

I’d left England ten years ago. I’d saved some money while working in a woman’s shelter in London. Some would say I was trying to escape my past, but if you knew my history, you wouldn’t blame me for trying to put it behind me. In truth, I had to get out of England. If I’d stayed there, someone would have found me. Right or wrong, I didn’t want to be found.

The flashbacks had started shortly after I started working for Al. Maybe it was seeing all the screwed up kids, or it was talking to their distraught mothers, that brought on the memories. My doctor kept asking me if I’d suffered any traumas in my life, and I shook my head. There was no way to explain what had happened to me, not to him or any other Earthling.

No, I’m not an alien. I’m as human as you are, and I was born here. I just didn’t stay here.

Mario jumped on my lap and kneaded my thigh.

“Sorry, buddy,” I said. “There’s no flesh on them bones.”

He plopped down, satisfied he’d done his part to plump me up like a pillow, and fell asleep. I felt sorry for him. My legs were pretty lean.

I’d been a small kid and only grew to five feet by the time I was fifteen. I’d always had white blonde hair, so I never worried about covering the grays. When I was a teenager, I wore my hair longer, to my shoulders, but now I kept it short on the back and sides with just enough on top to brush out of my eyes every five seconds. I could still get away with a tank top and short shorts, but I knew I was too thin. I had no idea whom I took after because my parents had stolen me from Earth when I was born. I always thought I’d fill out when I got older, but it never happened. I was still skinny Mia with the small boobs.

I went to bed thinking about that guy. Even from across the bar, I could see he had unusually blue eyes, really intense. His hair was brown and gray, kind of wavy and unkempt. But his clothes weren’t cheap. They were neat and expensive. Yeah, I could see that from across the bar, too.

Sleep was not necessarily my friend. It was when I fell into a deep sleep that the dreams would start. The flashbacks occurred during the day, usually when I was super stressed, and they were disjointed and meaningless to me. But the dreams evoked feelings of pain and sorrow and left me numb. I’d wake with a start and wonder if I’d been screaming. None of my neighbors had complained, though, and I’m sure they would have talked to me about that.

After a night of dreams, I’d walk around in a fog, dodging phone calls at work, and hoping Al wouldn’t notice. Sometimes Raf's face would stay with me all day. That was the worst part, seeing him die over and over, and being powerless to help him as Mouse pulled me away.

I sat up in bed. I remembered whom he was. It was Mouse. Oh, God, he found me.