Century Traveler

"Oh, that's right, Mr. Sass is dead," he thought. Tears burst from his eyes as he recalled the last words the old man had said to him.

Take care, son.

He cried long and hard, grieving the loss of a man he hardly knew but meant more to him than he realized. He wept until exhaustion took him back into its embrace.

When he woke again, he found he had a visitor this time. Detective Luis Molina was once again sitting in a chair beside his bed. John lifted both wrists and saw he was not handcuffed to the bed this time. The detective caught the motion and smiled.

"Since you got out of them last time, I figured, why bother?" he said.

John recalled how Mr. Sass took them off, and his face fell. He struggled to keep the tears at bay.

"Hey now, here, take a tissue," Molina said, handing him a box.

John grabbed a few and wiped his eyes. "Sorry."

"You've had a very rough time the last few weeks. Worst luck I've ever seen," the detective said, his eyes steady on John.

Even he could see that Molina was having doubts about his innocence again. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"How long have you known Michael Okorie?" the detective replied.

"Who?"

"The old man who died next to you in the alley three days ago," Molina stated.

"Three days!?!" John gasped.

"Yeah, you were pretty busted up and were unconscious for some time. Back to my question," he said bluntly.

"What? Uh, I didn't know his real name. I've always called him Mr. Sass," John said, shaken by yet another gap in time.

"S-A-S?" Molina asked, spelling it out.

"No, double-S. As in sass talk or being sassy." Molina continued to stare at him, so he went on. "I first met him four years ago outside the book store." His mind reeled at the time that had passed. He continued, speaking slowly to keep a lid on his tears.

"I said good morning, and he immediately sprung a pop history quiz on me. I got one of my answers wrong, and he made fun of my lack of smarts for not getting a perfect score. He had a sharp tongue, but he smiled as he said it, so you knew it was for fun." John rubbed his eyes again as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Once he had control again, he continued. "I-I said to him, who are you, Mr. Sass? After failing his test, this made me feel especially stupid, but he looked at me in surprise and started to laugh. He liked the name, so it stuck." God, he was going to miss the old man.

"So you met him four years ago. How well did you know him? Other than not knowing his real name?" the detective asked.

John winced. He wasn't the type of person who tried to get to know people. That was the truth of it. Keeping them at arm's length was safer. John looked up at Molina and saw he was getting impatient for an answer. "I hardly knew him at all. We greeted each other some mornings and said goodnight if he was there at night. He would be outside the store but off and on. When I was in the hospital the first time, I woke up, and he was reading my chart. He got past the nurse's station and sat with me awhile. He told my boss where I was so he could take me home when I got out. He also showed up the second time I was here. He was the one who undid the handcuff. I think he may also have been the one to get my release from the hospital expedited, contrary to Dr. Smiley's wishes. I don't know how, but it just feels like it was him."

"Seems like a pretty big effort for someone you hardly knew," the detective shot back.

Tears did come then as the guilt washed over him. The old man had been there for him, and he still kept him at a distance. Then John got him killed. Sobs racked his body, and his injuries complained, causing him to hiss and moan from the pain. His heart rate climbed, and the alarm went off. A nurse arrived and shooed the detective away. Dr. Giamatto burst through the curtain, and everything went black.

When John woke up again, he was in a private room. There was a window to his right, and he could see a grey overcast sky. He was a little worried about how his situation got bumped up to the lofty heights of a private room.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and a moment later, it opened to allow a stranger to enter. He was a tall man with neatly combed back grey hair and an impeccably tailored suit. He was carrying a black briefcase and had a professional smile.

"Mr. Doe? My name is Daniel Evans. I was the lawyer for the late Wallace Laroche and now handle his estate. I would have come to speak with you earlier, but I had difficulty locating you. Your name is very effective at blocking searches. I was contacted by Detective Molina, who informed me that you were back in the hospital, so I came straight away. I hope you don't mind, but I've upgraded your room so that we may have a private meeting. Do you have any questions so far?"

John blinked in surprise at the lawyer. "I didn't know Mr. Laroche. Our encounter only lasted a few minutes at most before he died. He didn't really say too much to me. I'm not sure why we are meeting."

The man sat beside the bed and opened his briefcase. He took out a small device and flipped it on. John winced as a high-pitched whine emanated from it.

"You can hear that?" the lawyer asked.

"Yes, you can't?" John asked, grimacing.

"Fascinating!" the older gentleman said. "Please bear with it as it eliminates electronic surveillance. I have a partner standing watch at the door, so we should be undisturbed for our meeting."

John just stared at the man in confusion.

"While this may seem like a breach of privacy, when I first found you in the hospital, you were unconscious, so I peeled back the tape on your finger to confirm you are indeed wearing the ring Wallace Laroche gave to you as he died. It was critically important that I confirmed that fact before I proceeded. Please forgive the intrusion."

John felt a little weird about the man looking at his finger while he slept. "Why did you need to see the ring?" he asked.

"Though I did confirm with Detective Molina that you were the first on the scene, that you had reportedly spoken to Mr. Laroche before he died, and that you had sustained injuries characteristic of a wolf bite, it is the fact that you can wear the ring, and it fits, which validates the contract Wallace made with you before he died. I will explain the contract momentarily, but please understand that my firm required this proof due to specific wording in Wallace's will before we could meet with you in this way. Is this clear?"

John kind of understood that last part, so he nodded.

"Excellent!" Daniel smiled. "While you didn't personally know Wallace Laroche, your life may have been touched by him in minor ways by using products from the companies he was responsible for creating and running for decades. He was an extremely successful businessman, and after many decades of being successful, he became extraordinarily wealthy. I don't have the current number with me, but his net worth at the time of his death was somewhere close to one hundred and fifty billion. He retired approximately 10 years ago when his wife suddenly passed away. Her loss was a devastating blow for the man, and without her, he was much like a boat without a rudder. He struggled to find a new purpose in his life, but when you found him, he'd given up. He mailed a letter to me the day before he took steps to end his life. In the letter, he explained his intentions and the steps he would follow. Part of his being a successful businessman was that he was a stickler for having contingency plans. He outlined what we were to do if he was not... completely successful. This is the contract I mentioned earlier."

John watched the man, but he hadn't said anything that connected him to this Wallace fellow yet, so he waited silently.

"This is where the sensitive information comes into play. You may find it difficult to understand or even believe, but as you are likely to have experienced unusual physical manifestations or uncharacteristic behaviors since the time you were bitten, what I tell you now explains why they are happening to you. You will need to open your mind to areas beyond your current knowledge base." He paused to see if he still had John's attention, which he did.

"Wallace Laroche had a unique symbiotic relationship with an ancient living entity which manifests as a large, black wolf. You reported seeing this to Detective Molina. When Wallace decided to end his life, he took himself to a secluded spot he had very good memories of and used an extremely sharp dagger to inflict a mortal wound with the least amount of violence he could. He did this to maintain a calm and comfortable situation that would not alert the entity. You see, Wallace intended to take it with him when he died. While he did not divulge his exact meaning, Wallace expressed that there was a great cost to being in a symbiotic relationship with this creature. He was unwilling to transfer that cost to another living soul. If he'd been successful, he would have slipped gently into death, and the entity would have died as well. You see, it needs a living host to survive. Apparently, the entity did take notice of Wallace's imminent death and found a way to draw you to the man's side. Then, as the wolf, it took over the weakened man to inflict a wound sufficiently grave to transfer itself to you. Wallace's contingency plan addressed that scenario. We were to look for an injured person found near him or someone reporting to have been the first on the scene. If that person could wear the ring, Wallace would have freely given the ring to them to assist with dealing with the entity. It has special properties--"

"Magic," John whispered, recalling what Kate Darrows told him before she turned into a monster and killed Mr. Sass.

The lawyer caught his expression and paused. "Yes, exactly. Apparently, magic does exist in some limited forms and can be found in rare items like the ring. When given freely, the ring resizes to the new host and prevents full physical manifestation of the entity. It won't block mental dominance, so you must exert your own will for that. Wallace explained that the entity is vastly ancient and has an extremely strong will. I hope you haven't encountered any serious hardships in your dealings with it so far."

John stared at the lawyer like a lifeline. Someone who knew what he was going through! "It took me for a fifty-five run one night at a world record pace and made me eat at least one rabbit, raw. It also likes kissing one of my female coworkers and has eyes for another. So, considering what it could be making me do... I guess I should consider myself lucky. I have so many questions--"

"Unfortunately, I'm not the one with the answers," the lawyer cautioned, holding up a hand. "Mr. Laroche did not divulge the inner workings of his symbiotic relationship. You will have to find answers elsewhere, I'm sorry. I suggest you be very discreet in your research. Wallace mentioned that he spent a great deal of time working on the wolf to get it to agree to let him bring my firm into his confidence. He personally told me that the entity will do its best to maintain its safety and anonymity. This means if you prove to be a poor host, it will find a way to replace you, which will be... fatal to you. I suggest that you find a way to come to terms with it. Communicate with it if you can. Find out what it wants and do your best to find a balance with it. Once you have done this, let it out in a safe environment. Wallace told me the ring is not meant to be a prison, just a temporary cease-fire until all parties are ready. Is that understood?"

John nodded, eyes wide with dismay at how little he knew about the entity living inside him.

"This brings me to the second point we need to discuss. The contingency plan Wallace set up had compensation for the new host for bearing the burden of the entity. If he could not prevent the entity from transferring to a new host, the host would become the sole inheritor of the Laroche estate. You can now afford to spend the time to find the answers you need."

"What? Wait a minute. What?" John was having trouble absorbing that last bit of information.

"You are the sole heir of the estate of Wallace Laroche. You are independently wealthy. Again, I pass along a little advice about how Wallace lived. Be discreet about your new wealth. Avoid fame and notoriety as this is likely to make the entity feel threatened. And... you don't want that."

"Additionally, I am your legal counsel as of this moment. My firm is on retainer for any and all legal matters you may have in the future. I need you to sign these papers confirming you accept the estate transfer terms." He pulled two neat sheets of paper from the case and a pen.

"This one indicates you willingly accept the ownership of all assets of the Laroche estate and none of the debts or outstanding litigation. Please note that Wallace had no debts, nor was he involved in any legal suits at the moment, but this text protects you from any just the same. Sign here."

In a daze, John signed.

"This one indicates you will continue to retain our firm for all legal matters for a period of ten years with annual increases in compensation of two point three percent. Our service contract will be renegotiated after that period. Sign here."

John signed.

"Thank you." Daniel tucked the papers back into his briefcase.

"As your legal representatives, we are already working on the case of Kate Darrows' attack on you in the book store. We were very fortunate your employer shared the video footage from the security camera in the shipping and receiving area. While the image quality isn't optimal, it's enough to clearly show the woman's violent attack on you.

"We also got a video statement from your co-worker Melanie Singh who stated that she heard Mrs. Darrows attempt to seduce you and saw her lead you into the back room. She followed and listened as you attempted to repel Mrs. Darrows' advances and were savagely attacked.

"Detective Molina wants to meet with you again. This time you will have legal representation at your side to prevent him from using heavy-handed techniques as he did the last time he met with you. That representation will come from our Portland office, so you will be able to receive local assistance. I will introduce you shortly. I work out of our office in Seattle. One of the assets you have assumed is Wallace's condo in Seattle. I would suggest you start there in your quest for answers. I have a bank card for you to pay for a flight to Seattle when you're ready. Its access code is currently five-six-four-six-three-six-three, which spells John Doe. Feel free to change it. I will leave it and directions to the condo with your lawyer here in Portland, and when you get there, you just need to speak with the concierge and show him your ID to get access." He smiled at the slightly dazed look on John's face.

"Do you have any questions?" the lawyer asked.

"Yeah, I'd like to arrange for a funeral for Mr. Sass... I mean Michael Okorie. He deserves that, at least. How do I go about that?" John asked.

"That was the older gentleman who died in the alley? I'll have the Portland office look into it for you," he replied. The high-pitched whine ceased as the lawyer turned off the device and placed it back into the briefcase. "Please give me a minute to bring in the lawyer overseeing your case locally." He stood and left the room for a minute. When he returned, he was followed by a petite woman with short black hair. She was dressed in an immaculate suit which showed off her well-toned physique.

John jolted with recognition. It was Carol from the yoga studio! He saw she recognized him as well, and her smile was wide and satisfied. "Hello, John," she said.

"Hi, Carol," he replied.

Daniel paused. "You two have met? Do you know each other? Is that going to be an issue?"

"Not for me," she said.

"No, it's fine. We met only once before in a class at my landlady's Yoga studio," John answered. Carol's smile got just a little broader at his acceptance of her.

"Good. Carol Lozinski was recently made a partner in the firm and has done some truly excellent work. She is fully aware of the special circumstances involved in representing you, and you can have the utmost confidence in her as you are in excellent hands. I must head back to Seattle to begin tackling the mountain of legal paperwork your signature has set into motion. If you need anything, please feel free to let me know or, of course, Carol. We are at your disposal. It was very nice to finally meet you, John. I look forward to working with you," Daniel said as he sealed his briefcase and nodded to them both as he left.

Soon, John and Carol were facing each other in the quiet private room. "Maybe now we can get that drink?" she said with a smile.

"Is that such a good idea considering you're my lawyer?" he asked.

"One thing lawyers are especially good at is separating business from pleasure. I am, at least," she said with a confident smile.

John felt just a little bit intimidated, so he changed the subject. "I mentioned to Mr. Evans that I want to have a funeral for Michael Okorie, the man who died in the alley that night. Can you make sure that happens? I want to attend it."

"Certainly, I'll make the arrangements directly after our interview with Detective Molina. Are you feeling up to seeing him now? I saw him in the hallway earlier," Carol said, easily switching roles from seductress to legal counsel.

"Uh, sure," he replied.

A few minutes later, Carol returned with the detective in tow. The scowl on his face let John know how thrilled he was with the new situation.

"Good morning, detective," John said.

Molina grunted and sat in the chair on the right side of the bed. Carol sat on the edge of the bed in front of the detective and crossed her arms. The message was clear. John wasn't on his own anymore. Molina glared briefly at the lawyer, then turned to John.

"Since when does a book store clerk's salary pay for a private hospital room and a lawyer from one of Portland's most prestigious law firms?" he growled.

John looked from the detective to Carol and raised his eyebrows. "It's official since you signed the paperwork, so you can tell him if you wish," she said sweetly.

John looked back at Detective Molina, and the enormity of what had just happened to him sank in. He opened his mouth to tell him but closed it again when nothing came out. He sat speechless for a few seconds, then looked back to his lawyer.

"Should I?" she asked, and he just nodded.

"My client was just informed that he's been named the sole inheritor of Wallace Laroche's estate. His portfolio was worth billions. Now that belongs to John. Our law firm is on retainer for all of John's legal needs. That is how he can afford the room upgrade and our legal representation."

John's face still betrayed his shock.

Detective Molina leaned back in his chair and stared hard at John. Unlucky bugger indeed.

"Will he be leaving shortly to begin counting his money, or does he have time to answer the questions of a lowly civil servant?"

John felt that verbal slap, and it immediately snapped him out of his daze. Before Carol could speak, John raised his hand. She sat back and waited for her client.

"Sorry for my strange behavior this morning, detective. As Ms. Lozinski just mentioned, I only found out a few minutes ago that Mr. Laroche had a rather strange and unique set of instructions in place in his will to reward the first on the scene with his estate. I'm still a little shell-shocked. Of course, I'll answer your questions. Please, go ahead."

"Thank you. When I spoke with you three days ago, we determined that you didn't know much about Michael Okorie, AKA Mr. Sass. Is this still your statement?" he asked.