Howling Bonds

7

A black mist lingered on his claws. Those mists seemed toxic, as dark as the unfathomable abyss of debt. Those mists drifted toward me, and I felt weak, old, and feeble in an instant. My hands shook so much, and through the black mists like smoke, I could see the vagrant’s pale eyes.

Fate. I thought. A miserable fate lurked there, poised to strike. It would eat everything.

A shadow appeared as his sharp claws came at me. I saw very little of what happened before something threw aside the bum like a rag landing with a heavy thud. I struggled to get up and tasted rust in my mouth.

My heart almost stopped when I saw the man standing in front of me. Dressed in a fat pullover and jeans, he seemed full of life and vigor, like a colorful poster. Everything was gone. The production values, the efficiency, crowded subway stations, Thursday mornings, exhaustion from work and life, financial and cost-of-living issues. Even the meager salary choking my throat like a pale hand now and again.

And everything came back to life in the chilly rain, including my body, which had long since melted into a drop of dew.

I picked up my wallet and elevator card, making sure everything was intact, and then I heard him.

“I’m Nell.” His voice sounded careful. A pleasing noise not tormented by life’s depreciation.

He scribbled his number on the back of an old business card and shoved it into my hands. “No matter what happens,” he said, looking me deep in the eyes, “you can reach me here.”

The moment I saw him, my heart galloped as I remembered the face in my dreams. Everything about him was identical to what I’d envisioned—from his tousled brown hair to the way he held his head when he smiled.

“Do I look that pathetic?” I asked, taking the card from his hand. After seeing that bum transform, it wouldn’t have surprised me if Satan himself appeared and invited me to lunch. I was out of breath and my mind was in turmoil, remembering how bad I looked. But first, I needed to rush to work.

“Well, I’m Emilia, and as you can see, I’m running late. I’ll call you during my lunch break. I’d like to know why this bum has grown furry claws. And what’s with these Borges cardboard boxes? It’s some kind of secret message, right?”

He stared at me for a beat. “It’s very difficult to explain the connection between them, including the cipher, the werewolf, and your hallucinations. I know you don’t know me yet, but fate has led me to you. I can see those visions like you.” He approached me, a slight tension in his eyes. That’s when I realized he was in the same boat as me, not knowing how to take the first step. “I saw the way you dealt with that rogue wolf, and it’s the same for me. As long as you have an electronic component, I won’t pose any threat. Anyway, could I drive you to work?”

“I’m not worried about you being the bad guy.” We walked side by side to the subway station and parted on the steps. I almost laughed, thinking today would push me over the edge of ‘normal life’.

After arriving at the office at ten o’clock, I realized that my ominous premonition had come true. I saw that my supervisor, Hazar, was at my workstation loading my office supplies into boxes.

“Put those things down,” I yelled as I ran over to him, forgetting to put my umbrella up. “Hazar, if you are firing me, you should have told me in advance!”

Hazar looked up with the usual smoothness in his eyes, but there was a flash of unconcealed joy underneath. He was a man who loved to share and brag, a real industrial production.

“No, Emilia, it’s not firing.” Hazar shook his head. “No one is working today or for the rest of the month, I’m afraid.”

I peered at him in confusion. The rain outside the window seemed to have stopped, dividing the ‘ten minutes ago’ and the ‘now’ into two worlds. The sun shone on the company’s computer, and everything became surreal. “Could you tell me why?” I heard my voice crack like brittle.

“Our boss, Mr. Edson, was attacked on his way to work this morning and is now in ICU.” Hazar glanced at the plant in the office’s corner, and I realized there were very few employees at the company’s workstations, and they were packing up their things. “And our product manager, of course.”

“Finally, I’ve waited for this day. I’m going on vacation to Florida!” I heard the program leader yell as he packed up his things.

Everyone was so engrossed in the joy of Florida that they were venting their anger at bosses and product managers, like a classroom of kids about to go on spring break. Half an hour later, I left the office holding a box. As I looked at the busy road, Nell’s image resurfaced in my thoughts.

I wondered how many people had been attacked in this city? The homeless man had his hairy paws out in front of me, and black smoke was coming from his claws. What would happen if I got caught by them? What principle was behind the dream that linked me to Nell?

I almost suspected I was living on the set of a movie. The sun felt fierce, darkening my eyes. The street was sparse, and every face appeared ghostly pale. Flies swirled on the rye, but no birds chirped. I passed familiar street signs, red fire stations, and tall shadows cast by windmills. I saw someone standing by the garage closing the iron door with a loud clang of dust. Two kids tossing a football, and workers wearing bright yellow helmets, cleaning up rubble. The further I went, the more I felt a great sense of panic.

I turned onto my road as trucks played cheerful music, sprinkling water, making deliveries, and cleaning up trash. The white pine and hemlock trees blew in the breeze, dripping sweat from the rain. At the end of the road was a restaurant painted white with old, dusty vehicles in front, a few skinny Mexicans bustling about in the sun, a few onlookers in a circle, holding up their cell phones, whispering under their breath.

“I don’t know what happened to her. She was already lying here when I got here.” The young man who spoke had an odd accent. “It’s a bummer that we didn’t catch the thing that attacked her.”