To Protect My Honor

One Day II

As I stood outside with Nancy,  I felt as if unspoken things were leading to each other. I am not saying between us, of course. Rather, I felt the immediacy of something ominous. I did not know what was going to happen, but I intuitively knew, deep within me, that something would happen soon.

Nancy turned to look at me.

"Milton?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Snap out of it!"

The dramatic music rising in my head ceased. Goosebumps on my arms and shoulders began to subside. There was complete silence except for the sound of my breathing returning to normal.

"You looked...hypnotized," she finally said.

"I feel like something bad is about to happen," I said.

"What?"

"I don't know. I just have kind of a sixth sense for these kinds of things. When something bad goes down, a moment before, I just know."

"Well, I don't know much about anxiety disorders, but that sounds like yours," she said.

"It probably is. I wouldn't say that's unlikely at all."

I have battled acute anxiety for as long as I can remember. It really is a burden. One of the worst parts is feeling panicked like that around others. They always worry about me, and they should. No one should be that panicked, in private or around others. 

"I think the heat may have contributed to it," I  said.

"Probably. Let's get you back inside."

We walked back in to find Ivan. 

"Nancy, what time is Victoria coming over," he asked.

"Not until six," said Nancy. "She's hanging out with people in Petoskey."

"I look forward to seeing her then."

He then said, "I was just on the phone with Clay Lucas. He asked about you."

"Oh," said Nancy. "What did he say?'

"He wanted to know if you got into Chicago."

"I hope you told him that he shouldn't call himself an intellectual if he doesn't realize that universities don't make decisions on admissions this far out."

"I wasn't that harsh. But yeah, I said something along those lines."

I then asked, "Who's Clay Lucas?"

"A friend of mine from high school," said Ivan, "just like your dad."

"What kind of intellectual is he?"

"He is very interested in finding lost pieces of history. He's worked with several museums and the like to make new historical discoveries. "

"Interesting. So, like, does he want the Declaration of Independence inspected for invisible ink?"

"I've heard that before," laughed Ivan. "And no. He takes things much more seriously. Tries to be a legitimate historian."

"I'd like to be introduced to him," I said. "He sounds interesting."

"He really isn't," said Sarah. "He just drones about his research."

I turned to Nancy.

"Have you ever met him?"

"Yes. He would tell me stories when I was younger about his adventurous life."

"Did you like that?"