THE CONSTRUCT: In The End

PART FOUR

4.

By hook or by crook, or by sheer utter madness, Nigel has come to be within a bar a little on the peculiar side of existence. A stranger, so it seems, has beckoned him to join him. Not sure what to make of this most odd situation, what else is there to do but accept the invitation?

How exactly Nigel came to be here her does not know. He does know he walked right through a door though it is an impossible door. Stepping through this door took him from a moving train right into a stationary building and such a thing should be possible yet here he is, wherever here so happens to be.

A brief acquaintance, a young lady, kind of explained things to him though he took such information as being impossible, though here he is ... in the impossible. Why would a strange beckon him anywhere? If Nigel wants answers of any kind, then perhaps talking to this stranger is the way to go. Besides, if he were to decide to leave in this moment, can he be sure that the door he had walked through could bring him back abord the train he had been on?

No, not at all. Nigel cannot be sure of anything, so whether he wants it or not, a conversation with a stranger seems to be on the cards, if indeed this fellow is an actual stranger. Nigel walks slowly towards the stranger and stops once he has reached him, not sure if he should greet this fellow, introduce himself or do something else, anything else. The decision of what to do is soon taken from him.

'Have a seat, Mister Allen' speaks the stranger.

'How do you ... why ...'

'Sit ... please.'

The stranger appears friendly enough, though there is no way to know if he is friendly or anything else for that matter. Nigel sits. What else could he do? The stranger raises his left arm in grabbing the barman's attention.

'Two please Steve ...' he says. 'I hope you will have a whiskey with me, Mister Allen, or can I call you Nigel.'

'Sure, why not? ... on both counts.'

'I'm sure you are wondering just what it is that is happening ...'

'Of course ...' Nigel responds, finding it difficult to settle in this moment.

'It's alright Nigel, you can relax here. No harm will come to you while you are in here ...'

'Alright. So ... when I am not here, I am in some sort of danger?'

'You can say that ...'

The drinks are delivered and the stranger thanks Steve the barman. Nigel notices that no payment was handed over. There could be an open tab going or there could some other possibility for this, though Nigel noticed it all the same.

'How is it that you know my name, sir?'

'You remember your last conversation with your young lady friend on the train? The content of that conversation is how I know.'

If Nigel wasn't already unsettled, which he was and is, he certainly is unsettled now. He can't be sure if he ever was claustrophobic, as is the memory loss ... or not so much loss but the inability to remember anything from before boarding the train he had been on ... claustrophobia is certainly settling in now, to the point it is affecting his ability to speak.

'How ... w-wh ...'

'Mister Allen, ... Nigel ... please try calm yourself. Deep breaths ... in through the nose, hold and out through the mouth.'

Nigel tries to focus on his companion and does as instructed. From a third breath in through the nose, he does begin to relax a little, a couple more breaths and the claustrophobic sensation starts to lift. Once he is able, he lifts up a whiskey and downs it in one.