Parent-Teacher Conference Ch. 02

"My arms are a bit sore from where the one grabbed me, but it's nothing I can't handle," I said.

"I am so sorry for this," he said touching my cheek softly. I felt sparks fly through my body. "But I need ask you a question."

"Ask away," I said.

"In your message, what did you mean by 'shaken -- not stirred'?"

I laughed and said, "It's an idiom -- a figure of speech. Something James Bond might have said."

"Is he your boyfriend now?" he asked and sounded disappointed.

I laughed again and said, "James Bond, 007. Haven't you ever heard of him?"

"Is he a mathematician?" he asked. Now he sounded quite serious.

"No silly," I giggled. "He's a character from a book and movie series. Haven't you seen a James Bond movie?"

"No," he replied.

"Read the books?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Oh," I said a little embarrassed. "Have you ever seen a movie?"

"No," he said.

"Ever read a book?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "but probably not anything you'd be familiar with."

"What are you from outer space or something?" I asked.

"'Or something'" he said with a smile.

"You know, you promised me an explanation," I said.

"Yes, I know, and I will... soon. But not here... and not now."

"When?" I asked.

"When you see me next. Just be careful and stay safe," he said, kissed my cheek, and quickly walked away. The sparks from before were replaced with a raging fire of desire.

"Wait!" I cried and followed him, but he had disappeared, as if he'd vanished into thin air.

I decided I'd better go in and eat my dinner before it got too cold. In my apartment, I set my food on the kitchen island, poured my Diet Pepsi into a glass with some ice, turned on the television, carried my dinner to my couch, and proceed to eat. The news droned on about the local and national stories as well as the occasional "feel good" story they love to run but I wasn't really paying much attention. I kept thinking about my afternoon visitors and how odd it was it took them over three years to find me. I decided to take a second look at my mystery e-mails. The last two were in my purse, but the first one was hidden in my bra under my left arm. I was so glad they hadn't tried to frisk me or they might have found it. I opened them all and reviewed them, what they said, hoping to find some hidden meaning. Then I noticed it, in the two that were sent and the one I replied too, all it said was, "A. Friend". No @gmail.com or @yahoo.com, just A. Friend. At first I thought it was a BCC, but I realized that wouldn't hide his e-mail address, it would hide mine, and it didn't explain how I was able to reply without it coming back as undeliverable. None of this made any sense to me.

Then there were those two guys who looked like something out of a bad movie asking me questions and seeming to already know the answers. 'What agency were they with? Why were they wearing those damn sunglasses?' I didn't ask and now I was wondering. Were they CIA, FBI, TSA... oh I just didn't know and the more I thought about the more confused I got. I decided to try to Google my mystery man and my two visitors to see what I could find.

Unfortunately, with a name like "Oliver Stone," it didn't make my search any easier, and after two hours, all I had was a headache. I decided to call it a night and go to bed. I also had to hide my e-mails, but this was something I could do rather easily. After 9/11, the owner installed floor safes into all the apartments for the tenants to hide small pieces of jewelry, wills and other important papers. For me, it made a great place to store a necklace and a ring my grandmother had given me just before she died, the old notes I had received three years ago, and now, my e-mails. The safe was hidden in the floorboard of my bedroom, and unless you knew it was there, you really couldn't see which board it was hidden under. The safe itself was long, slender, and about six inches deep. I took out all the old notes I had gotten from before and re-read them. I really don't know why, but I did. The handwriting was all the same, and except for one, they all said the same thing. I remember how they filled me with hope for so long, then sorrow when they stopped coming. I put them back into their space, then folded the new messages, slipped them in, and locked the safe. Then I changed into a tank top and shorts and climbed into bed, hoping for some sleep.