A Collection of Short Tales

A Strange Appointment - JustWriteBits

 At first, Maxwell was too fatigued to pay much attention to the figure across the street. Yes, everything about the stranger was quite odd, from the hood obscuring his face to his bare feet, but it seemed to Max that interacting with such a character would leave him just as perplexed by his strange attire and demeanor than before the encounter. Anyway, the sky was still quite dark, the grim grey-blue color that appears just before sunrise, it could be a trick of the light, and surely a severe embarrassment for himself if he dared verbally point out the oddity.

Nothing about his day, as of then, had been out of the ordinary. On the contrary, it was probably the most ordinary day of his week. Yes, the cars were going quite a bit faster than usual, but that wasn't much in the great scheme of things. He was riding the same bus, at the same time, sitting near the same people as he always did. Surely, this figure, who he could now discern wore a black coat, was just an ordinary fellow going about his day.

Though, while waiting to cross the street to his bus station, as he did every morning to go to his job as an accountant, he could've sworn the figure had lifted one fleshy finger to point at him. When he looked, however, the stranger appeared to not have deviated from his original position. Maxwell took this time to examine the stranger, and observed him to be seemingly staring at the ground. Another look told him that the stranger was extremely emaciated, like he had never eaten food in his life.

Maxwell was a man of reason. There were a number of people waiting to cross the street, and the stranger could have been pointing at any one of them. Perhaps, he hadn't pointed at all, and Maxwell's own eyes were playing tricks on him. His senses weren't exactly as sharp as in his younger years, though he loathed to admit it.

When the stranger lifted his finger at him once again, he had just about forgotten about the earlier incident and his thoughts had moved on to why the wait to cross the street was quite so long. But now, without the shroud of darkness, he could see that the stranger had pointed a finger at him, and was still holding it. Maxwell, who had remained awfully calm before this development, became terribly nervous and bewildered, as well as horribly, horribly curious about this strange figure. Truly unsettling was that no one seemed to notice this stranger, even though he was doing nothing to hide his strange appearance nor his gesture.

At last, the group was allowed to cross the street. Maxwell crossed decidedly, having set his mind on confronting this strange man. He had almost crossed the entire street when he heard a woman cry, "Sir! You have forgotten your wallet!" Instantly, he stuck his hand in his pocket and found it empty. He laughed nervously, and thought about how he could have lost so many dollars in his haste. He hurried back across the street to where the lady stood, holding a wallet that he could very clearly tell was his.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" He conceded. "I could have lost a small fortune!"

"It isn't any trouble, sir!" The woman said, chuckling. "I saw it fall out of your pocket right before you crossed. Would have been a sorry loss."

Feeling a bit better about his predicament, he moved to cross the street again, but he must have moved too quickly. About halfway through crossing the road he fell to his knees. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him, a feeling that was not helped when he gasped.

There, offering him a hand, was the stranger. His face was still covered by a hood, and when Maxwell reached out and took his hand, it was cold, like he had just recently pulled his hand out of an icebox. The stranger laughed, "Hello. I'm Mr. Almawt. I believe we have some business to attend to, Mr. Wright."

"Mr. Almawt, I don't believe I know who you are. How do know my surname?"

"I believe you are my client, Mr. Wright, and I'm afraid we must depart from here immediately. I have many clients today and cannot waste any time." Mr. Almawt urged.

"Why? I believe I have work today, and I never scheduled any sort of appointment with a 'Mr. Almawt'. I am a busy man as well, and must go to my work." Protested Maxwell, who was brushing himself off and gathering his wits.

"The answer to that question is at your feet, Good Sir. As many good answers are. You will not attend work today, I'm afraid."

Written for  #JustWriteBits May 2020