Century Traveler

"OOOooo!"

John and Anna looked over in surprise at the outburst from the table next to theirs. Two well-dressed men sat watching John's display of brute power. One was clearly flustered, while the other looked embarrassed by his partner's reaction. John and Anna smiled politely and turned back to the window.

"I liked this shirt," John grumbled.

"If you keep growing, you'll need a whole new wardrobe," Anna said.

"It's not like I'm trying to beef up," he said to her quietly. He absentmindedly pushed the picked clean bones on his plate, looking for something he missed. He couldn't believe he'd already finished the full rack.

Anna smiled as she watched him hunting for more food.

"Come back to the studio with me and sit in on my afternoon sessions. You need to relax, and a good stretching will do you wonders after your run," she suggested.

"I have no workout clothes with me," he said.

"We have plenty of spares at the studio."

John thought about it and realized he would rather be doing that than sulking at home. "Sure, if you don't think it will be any trouble."

"No trouble at all." She turned back to her salad while John looked out the window.

CRACK!

She looked up to see John sucking at the marrow of the rib he'd just cracked open with his teeth. She reached across and touched his arm. His eyes locked on hers and the gold glow in them let her know it was time to leave.

"John."

The sound of his name was enough to make him realize he'd been drifting. It seemed the wolf had taken over while he'd daydreamed. He put the broken rib down, then flagged the waitress to get the bill. He glanced over at the next table, and now both men were blatantly staring at him. "You mind?" he said curtly, and they looked away quickly.

The walk back to the studio was quiet as each was caught up in their own thoughts.

She took him into the backroom and selected a shirt and shorts for him. She also gave him a lock and key.

"Where is the rest of it?" he said, looking at the minimal fabric she'd handed him. The shorts were very short and made of black spandex, and the matching tank had gold trim at the neck.

"The studios are kept quite warm, so I suggest you dress light. We do more advanced techniques in the afternoon, and this outfit won't bind you up. Besides, it's your colors," she added with a cheeky grin. "Now go get changed and bring me back the key. I'll put it in my office. Hurry up. Class starts soon," she said, pushing him towards the change room. She took the bag containing his new running shoes and stowed it in her office while she waited.

Moments later, he trotted back to her with the key. She grabbed a couple of mats, and they made their way up to the classroom. She directed John to take his pad to the far end of the front row as it was the guest position, and no one typically took that spot. Most of the participants were professional women, so she told him to keep his eyes on her so the others wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

The others filed in, and some paused when they saw him, but he kept his eyes averted and ran through his warm-up stretches and breathing exercises. Soon the room was almost full. He had a few spaces between himself and the others on his left and behind him, but he was fine with that. He was feeling a little underdressed in the tight shorts and skin-tight top.

Soon they were into the program, and John was learning new things. He kept his mind focused on the transition movements and poses, and the wolf played along. It didn't take long for them to both feel at peace. Once in a while, he'd see someone watching him out of the corner of his eye. He followed Anna's advice, though, and kept his eyes on her or forward when she moved back through the group, helping others correct their poses.

Anna was very pleased that John was taking the class seriously, and she saw that he was beginning to relax. It was almost the end of the session, and she thought she'd throw him a more challenging pose. It might break the ice with her regulars if the noobie were to tumble out of a pose. She'd caught several of them keeping discreet surveillance on the man during her class, and she wanted to ensure they weren't feeling put out by his presence.

Anna asked John to come to the front of the class with his mat. He looked a little nervous, but a little gentle encouragement brought him up beside her. She explained to the class that in a few weeks, they would be ready to move into more advanced poses like the one she was about to have John try. She demonstrated the forearm stand first, and John was suitably impressed. He was also dubious that he was ready for it. He got into position, and sure enough, he overbalanced and went over. Anna was there to catch his legs and keep him from getting hurt, but he ended up on his mat, flat on his back. There were some gentle chuckles from the other students, and he sat up with a bashful grin on his face.

"Well, you can see we are a few weeks away from this level, but you are all well on your way. See you on Friday," Anna said to her class.

The group rolled up their mats and prepared to leave. Several of the female members cast appreciative looks at John. Seeing there might be competition, a petite woman with short black hair and a well-toned body boldly strolled up to speak with John as a pre-emptive strike. Anna caught the word drinks and nipped the conversation in the bud.

"Carol, you know the rule. The building is off-limits for that activity," she said firmly.

The woman's eyes flashed with defiance, but she couldn't fight a rule that protected everyone in the club, herself included. She nodded to Anna, then smiled at John seductively as she left. John looked questioningly at Anna.

"One of the principles Haven Studio was founded on is Sanctuary," she explained. "A place where its members can feel protected, comfortable, and at peace. A rule was implemented to ensure women, and men, could feel comfortable about coming here without the pressure associated with the social dating scene. No one is allowed to arrange a social connection while in the Studio or nearby. If we receive a complaint about a member breaking this rule, their membership is revoked.

"Carol has been around long enough to know and shouldn't have made such an attempt. But she's an up-and-coming new lawyer in Portland, and I've heard she just made partner at the firm she works at. She's used to getting what she wants. Very aggressive," Anna warned him. John glanced towards the doorway, but the rest had already left.

"We have one more class which focuses on meditation and relaxation, so I think you'll enjoy that. Then we head home. I've prepared paella for dinner tonight if you'd care to join me."

John smiled at the woman, who appeared to be taking the role of a protective mother very seriously. "Sounds good!" he replied with a smile.

Chapter 9

Deron's office was small, but this morning it felt positively claustrophobic. John sat in the guest chair and waited for his boss to join him. He'd called in as requested, and Deron had stiffly told him to come in at ten and sit in his office.

He heard footsteps then Deron walked in and sat his large body on the other side of the desk. He stared at John for an uncomfortable amount of time before he spoke.

"It seems I owe you an apology for my comments regarding your actions with Satomi. I called her in, and she told me what happened yesterday. That it was an accident that led to your both being on the floor and that she kissed you first. I also spoke with Melanie, and she confirmed that Satomi has been crushing on you for a few weeks. She told me you hadn't responded to her signals as you hadn't recognized them. Then Melanie told me that you pretty much turned Satomi down."

John nodded.

"My calling you a sexual predator was clearly unjustified, and I apologize. I was pretty upset and shot my mouth off pretty badly," Deron said with contrition.

"Thank you."

Deron's expression turned grim. "To the second matter of your use of steroids and how it has affected your behav--"

"I'm not taking steroids."

"Don't lie to me, John! I've seen exactly this behavior in the gym I go to," Deron barked.

"I'm not saying my behavior is different. I'm saying the source of it is. I don't take drugs. I've seen what drugs do. Some of the kids I went through the foster homes with chose drugs as their avenue of escape. I saw what it did to them. I won't let that happen to me. I. Don't. Take. Drugs," John said emphatically, staring down his boss.

Deron sat back and held John's stare. He blinked first. "Not drugs? Rapid muscle growth, increased aggression, and not steroids? What's the source then?"

"I've had a rough few weeks. First, the bike accident, the coma, and finally being bitten by a freaking wolf! Several potentially life terminating events happened to me in a short time. My life has been turned upside down, which really shook me up. It's affected me in ways I never expected. Not too surprisingly, my health has become a singular priority for me. Perhaps to the detriment of other aspects of my life. Have I become more fit? Yes! The other night I went running after work and didn't stop until two-thirty in the morning! I'm strength training at home. And to increase my flexibility and work on the spiritual side of my health, I'm taking yoga with my landlady. That has done wonders for my state of mind, but I still have a long way to go. Why did I growl at you? I'm sorry, I don't know. I'm still working on that," John said earnestly.

Deron still looked skeptical, but John could see he'd gotten through to the man. Now to sink the hook.

"I truly appreciate your keeping an eye on me. I'm doing my best, but obviously, I need a little help from my friends," John said.

"Shit, man, if you're going to start singing Beatles tunes to get me all teary-eyed, I will kick your ass," Deron said with mock fury.

John smiled and realized he really did appreciate his friend looking out for him. It was an odd feeling.

"Just so we are clear, I don't want to see any hoochie koochie with any of the ladies in the store," Deron added, this time seriously.

"Understood," John said, stifling a smile.

The smile still showed in his eyes, so Deron snorted. "Go make me some money!" Deron pointed to the door. Meeting over.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, John made his way to his desk and immediately started by catching up on his e-mail. There were several responses from his contacts saying they'd found nothing and good luck. He saw one from JerseyJihad482, who responded with a request from his contact for direct contact with the buyer. They indicated they had the tablet but weren't willing to go through a go-between. They wanted to deal directly with the buyer or no dice.

Shit.

He'd have to be careful about this. Buyers largely wanted to remain anonymous, and John knew from the file that this would be one of those circumstances. There was also a juicy commission at stake.

JerseyJihad482 had done something very much out of character for this long-time source. He'd sent the e-mail address of his contact to John along with an animated GIF. He watched the little movie, and it took a moment for John to recognize the scene was an actor playing Pontius Pilate washing his hands with Jesus in the background. Perhaps a little overdramatic, but that was typical for this guy. It was exceptionally rare for one of his sources to divulge such information.

He sent a quick thanks to JerseyJihad482 and wrote a very carefully constructed message to ArchAnon555. He outlined the importance of his role in facilitating these brokered deals to ensure both buyer and seller were treated fairly and that the transactions could be completed safely and securely. Finally, he stated that he was the direct contact for his buyer, who desired to remain anonymous, but perhaps something could be worked out. He included his telephone number and hoped for the best.

He'd also received a note from one of the profs. He reported that an esteemed and long-retired colleague of his had traveled to Ethiopia more than fifty-three years ago to meet up with a group of archeologists from Oxford working a dig near Gondar. They'd found evidence of an ancient settlement, and amongst the discoveries was a series of seven tablets, two of them larger than the others and stained a dark brown. The archeologists shipped one of the stained tablets to Oxford to confirm a suspicion that this discoloration was caused by blood. The second dark brown tablet was stolen from the dig, and the guards had been viciously murdered. The first tablet, which had been shipped to England, never arrived.

The prof warned him to be very careful if people were willing to kill for this particular piece.

He replied to the message with his thanks and assurance that he'd take every precaution. He needed to speak with Deron.

He walked down to his office and knocked on the door jamb. The boss looked up quizzically.

"I have a possible legal issue regarding the tablet that new buyer is after. I got some background on it from one of my contacts. It seems there were two tablets originally. One was stolen as it was shipped to Oxford University in England more than fifty years ago. The other was stolen directly from the dig site in Ethiopia, and guards were murdered in the process. I have a line on one of the tablets. I don't know which. Is there any legal issue with our being involved in brokering such items? It feels a little weird to think we might be dealing with an item involved in a murder."

Deron's face had that grumpy look he got when he saw details getting in the way of making a sale. "This happened more than fifty years ago, in Ethiopia?" John nodded. "All right, considering how much this will bring in, I'll call my lawyer and pass it by him. Close the door on your way out. I'll call you when I get an answer."

John nodded and quickly ducked across the street to pick up a sandwich and fruit juice. He returned to his desk and gobbled down a quick lunch. While he waited for Deron, he conducted other research and concluded the purchase of a book for the helpful professor in Boston. It would arrive in a week, and he'd send it off to the man. That felt good!

Late in the day, Deron finally got back to him and said that the company and its employees were not legally liable for any criminal activity as long as there was no way to determine which of the tablets they were dealing with. The statute of limitations on the one stolen during shipment had expired. If they did resolve the tablet they had was the one involved in the murders, they would have to turn it over to the authorities. Deron didn't sound happy about that outcome and made it clear that John shouldn't look too closely into the item's origin as that could cost them a sweet payday.

Feeling a little more comfortable with the deal, John sent a quick update to the buyer, saying he believed he had a solid lead, but he'd need to work on it for a couple of days to see if it panned out.

John checked the time, and his day was over. It felt satisfying to have made so much progress. He slipped on his running stuff and stepped out into the night. No sign of Mr. Sass once again. He looked up, and the skies were overcast, so as he began his run, he asked the wolf to behave and let him just run home. It seemed to be sleeping, so he wouldn't be taking the scenic route this evening.

The next morning John checked his e-mails and was disappointed there was nothing from ArchAnon555. He would have to give him a little time to adjust to the idea. It was too soon to send another response. There was nothing from the buyer either, so he assumed that was fine. John busied himself with other orders.

Mel popped her head around the wall when it was getting close to lunch.

"Good morning, John," she said.

"Hi, Mel."

"Lunch plans?" she asked.

John was a little surprised as she'd never asked before. "Uh, no, I'm open."

"Good. Would you care to join me? I was thinking of heading over to the market to pick up a fresh salad and some fruit." Mel was a vegetarian but thankfully not militant about it.

John's stomach took the opportunity to growl loudly, making them both chuckle. "I think I'll need something a little more substantial to appease that!" he said with mock fear.

"There's a pizza place next to the market," Mel suggested with a grin.

"Now you're talking!"

They made their way over to the local market place which was beginning to pick up with lunch traffic. He ducked into the pizza joint to place his order while Mel hit a few of the merchants to find a salad, some nuts, and some fruit.

John sat at a two-seater table outside the pizza place to wait for his order. Mel wandered back to him with her lunch in bags. She placed a napkin on the small table between them and arranged her lunch. John saw her brow furrow as she looked down at the small bag of nuts she'd purchased.

"Now, that wasn't very smart of me," she pouted.

"What?"

"I didn't bring a nutcracker for my macadamia nuts," she explained, pointing to the small bag of brown nuts.

John picked up the bag and looked at it. He put it between his palms at chest level and squeezed his hands together. He felt his shoulder and back muscles tightening, then a series of loud cracks came from the bag. He carefully opened his palms over the table and placed the bag in front of Mel, who was staring at him with wide eyes. He headed inside to see how his pizza was coming along.

His medium meat fanatic was ready. He carried the box outside and set it on the corner of the table with the large bottle of water he'd also bought.

Mel was still staring at him.

"Something wrong?" he asked, looking at her lunch.

"Since when did you become all...." Mel's voice ran out of steam as she got flustered.

"All...?" he asked curiously as he took a huge bite out of a slice of pizza. His eyes closed in bliss as the flavors of the pepperoni, ham, sausage, ground beef, and barbeque chicken blended with the mushrooms, hot peppers, and melted cheese.

"All this!" she finished pointing at him up and down.

He looked down at the tight black t-shirt he'd worn this morning. As Anna had warned, he would have to buy a new wardrobe. His shirts were now too tight around his arms and across his shoulders.

"Yeah, I've been working out, trying to get into shape. Having a couple of brushes with death kind of wakes you up to wanting to be healthier."

He tucked into his meal, and Mel picked at hers.

She worked up the courage to ask him a question. "John, I've wanted to ask, and actually, I promised Satomi I would. About that kiss?"

John froze, the last slice halfway to his mouth. He put it back down and carefully wiped his mouth and hands with a napkin.

"What about it?" he said calmly.

"I got there just as you appeared to be kissing her in return. There seemed to be some real fire there." Mel's complexion was getting darker, and she was having trouble meeting his eyes which remained on hers.

"Satomi caught me by surprise with her kiss. She was pretty aggressive, and trust me, I don't mind that at all, but it pushed me past my self-control for a minute. I'm only human--" He jolted a little when he heard himself say that but forced himself to continue. "I've explained why I think she deserves someone who can better relate and respond to her."

"John, the heart wants what it wants. It doesn't try to match a bunch of compatibility criteria," she said with exasperation. "You are setting yourself up for a very lonely life if you won't accept that."

As his appetite slipped away, John flipped the lid closed on the pizza box, the last slice uneaten.