Chapter 3
1036 Words
Chapter 3
Arik walked along the cobblestone path toward his office building at Oxford University. The sun hadn’t yet come up, but he was always early for his lecture. It wasn’t because he needed to prepare for his class. He had taught this subject for many years, and by now he could give the lecture with his eyes closed. But he loved the tranquility of the campus before sunrise. The early hours in his office were precious to him. A couple of hours later, when students and colleagues arrived, that tranquility would vanish as if it had never existed.
Blues beats and lyrics played in his mind. Black cat crossed my trail. He shook his head, trying to brush Rod Stewart’s “I Ain’t Superstitious” out of his mind, but the song kept playing as if it wasn’t in his mind but in the air around him. It was strange. It wasn’t even his favorite song.
In the distance, in the dark, he saw a pair of green eyes looking at him. He couldn’t see the shape of the animal at all. Just those green eyes. They had to belong to a black cat because its body blended into the darkness. For some unknown reason, he just assumed it was a cat.
He blinked. The eyes blinked. Blinked, and blinked again. Then they vanished.
I need my morning coffee, he thought. He shook his head to brush off the uncomfortable feeling he got from the sound of the songs. Sometimes music triggered painful memories he would rather forget.
“Professor Bonneville,” said a squeaky female voice. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard it. It had come from behind a small bin and some stacked-up tables next to a closed café. From out of the shadows stepped a young female—a student, he assumed—with haunting eyes. Arik shook his head. There was a strange shade in her dark eyes, but like her face, her eyes were youthful.
“Yes,” he said. He pulled up the collar of his coat to block the cold breeze nipping the skin behind his neck.
The young student tucked a stray lock of sandy hair under her beanie. “Don’t be afraid,” she said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“It will pass.” She grinned, showing a row of uneven, black front teeth.
“Afraid of what? Who are you?”
“You don’t need to know who I am. I have a message for you.” She reached her arms forward.
When Arik saw her hands had turned into claws, he jumped backward. His left shoe came down on the slippery, uneven edge of a stone, and he almost toppled over.
“I’m sorry,” the girl said again and reached further to pull him in toward her. Fangs appeared in her mouth, and she bit into her bottom lip.
Arik pushed her away from him. A stream of blood ran down from her forehead. He stepped backward again and tripped on another stone. He felt his left ankle twist. “Damn it,” he cursed.
“I’m sorry.” The girl stopped moving forward. “I’m so sorry, professor!” she cried, her voice no longer squeaky.
“This is a stupid prank!” Arik growled.
A wave of loud laughter came from the back of the building. A male student’s voice said, “You’ve got it, Lucy. You’ve got him.”
Lucy waved her arms frantically. “I’m sorry, professor. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. It was an accident. It was just a dare…” She turned around to run and stumbled over an empty box on the ground. Arik grabbed her elbow just before she fell face first into some trash cans. Her beanie fell, along with a wig, a tube of fake blood, and her fangs.
“Thank you. I’m so sorry…” She twisted out of his grip and scrambled toward the back of the building.
“I know you’re from the New Theater group. I’ll talk to your professors!” But Arik was speaking to the cold air. The group of students had already disappeared into the darkness, their laughter trickling behind them. Arik wanted to curse. He wanted to call campus security. But what would be the point?
His morning tranquility ruined, he limped toward his office. He wouldn’t do any work this morning. Instead, he’d make himself a cup of coffee and read the news on the Internet.
The coffeepot let out a soft whistle when it reached the required temperature. He left his desk and went to his credenza. He poured coffee into a mug, inhaling the aroma of his unique blend, and took his first sip of the day.
Before the rim of the coffee mug touched his lips, a hairy black spider leg reached over the rim from the inside of the mug. He yelped and dropped the mug to the floor. Coffee splattered everywhere. And there was no spider.
“Are you all right?”
He turned around and saw Peter standing at the door.
Arik fixed his tie. “Yes, I’m fine. The mug just slipped out of my hand. You’re starting early today, Peter.”
Peter smiled. “I have to catch up with marking papers. I promised the students some feedback today. Nice scarf.” He pointed to a scarf on the desk.
Arik chuckled. “It’s Grace’s. I’ll give it back to her tonight.”
“Oh…someone has a date. That’s why you’re jumpy!”
Arik said nothing. He grabbed some paper towels from a cabinet and started to clean up the coffee spill.
“You’ve been going out with her for…what? Over a decade?”
“Five years.”
“But who’s counting? When are you going to pop the question?”
Arik stood up and glared at his colleague. “Since when did you become so nosy?”
Peter shrugged. “Since when did you lose your sense of humor?”
“You can’t lose what you never had. Plus, there’s nothing funny about this.” He gestured at the mess the coffee had made on the carpet.
“No, you’re right. It’s not funny at all. Look at your desk!”
“That’s a vintage piece of furniture! Not like that veneered desk of yours!”
“The cheap piece of furniture you just referred to isn’t mine. I don’t decorate my workplace with my own furniture the way you do. There’s never a single speck of dust on your desk. Those coffee stains must be driving you insane!”
“I can manage.”
“You don’t really have a choice. Okay, I’m going to get back to my own business now. Say hi to Grace for me.” Peter scurried out of Arik’s office.
- Writer
