A Quarter Life

'Me & Reeve'

The night coffees were quite favorite to Mike. He could cover the all week, sleepless, with a sip of pilled coffee. A night journey to Kansas was nothing near that.

He was driving, smoothly. He was out of DC a long time ago.

Jenny was sleeping, sleeping a light sleep. She was never aware of the journey, not even realized it seconds before he told her.

He laughed, he himself wasn’t aware of the trip. He thought his dreams were absurd, bizarre, without any real connection. But, fate was the writer, he wasn’t. He still didn’t know whether there was really any connection. He was the unfinished character, the fate was the novelist. And of course, a character had the right to know his fate.

He looked at her. She was sleeping peacefully. Her hairs were covering half of her face. The covered side was deprived of the morning sun, that made her more gorgeous. The road was free, clear. He could see her for lifetime.

The sun had another plan. She woke up, suddenly. He saw her, waking up, yawning with the morning sun.

She looked ahead, the roads were awake, like him. He looked at her. The half awaken eyes were innocent, like her. Was he innocent? He didn’t know. But he knew for sure, he was cursed, cursed for something heinous.

He asked her, 'Good morning, how are you feeling now?'

She looked at him, annoyed, 'How would anyone feel in this type of situation?'

He laughed, 'So, surprises are sometimes beneficial, right?'

She frowned, 'Really, Mike? I don’t even know what we are chasing. I don’t know whether we will get whatever we are chasing. I don’t know why I am with you.'

He said nothing. He didn’t know either. Maybe he was just chasing a mirage, a myth, an El Dorado. But there was a tiny little chance that he wasn’t.

He asked, 'Okay, jokes apart. Didn’t you find Reeve of the same batch?'

She said, 'Yeah, or else how would I send you the 'Charles's?'

He replied, 'So, this Charles McCourt, with which Reeve was he with?'

She said, 'I don’t know, I had a military cousin, he did the findings for me. Of course a civilian can't easily have access to military information. I'll ask him again, don’t worry.'

He looked at her. This girl, she is doing what she can, just, only to keep him happy, see him happy. And he? He was obsessed with himself, so very much, he didn’t even think of her happiness.

He asked, 'Feeling hungry?'

She felt relieved, 'Glad you asked. Yeah, very much.'

He saw a roadside restaurant ahead. Maybe stopping by for a couple of hours would be refreshing.

The restaurant was quite empty. There were very few customers. He went in with her, parking the car.

The interior was nice, firmly decorated. They sat in one of the tables.

He looked around. The tables are of ancient designs. The designs were eye-soothing. He looked at the customers.

A old woman, maybe Japanese, was sitting in the next table. He saw her, eating an entire soup, he forgot about who he ordered, what Jenny ordered, when the food arrived, when they ate. He just stared at the woman, slurping al the soup, in hunger. He could feel the hunger, by the droplets of soup sliding down her neck.

Jenny asked, 'Let's go, we will need time to reach there.'

He came to his senses. He looked at his plates, all empty. He ate everything, feeling the hunger. He laughed by himself.

The car was moving slowly. The roads were fresh.

Jenny was sleeping again, headphones in the ears. He was driving, reducing the distance from Kansas.

Who was this Charles McCourt? Why did he see him? He had never seen him before, ever? Why was he going to Kansas? He wanted the answers. He needed the answers. He read existentialism a long time ago. He never knew his purpose. If he knew, he would have run away from it.

When the car entered Kansas, it was nearly dark, the afternoon sun was on setting preparation. He continued to drive along. Jenny was half asleep. She woke up before, and slept again. He looked at her. He could see the aspiration of rest in her life. All her youth life, she had endured only restless days, everyday. So, any pinch of rest was like an ocean to her.

He reached near Cleveland Avenue in quick time. He rolled down his side window, and asked a passerby, 'Excuse me, I am kinda lost here, can you help with the direction to McCourt mansion?'

The guy showed the direction. He drove along, thanking him. He knew the direction. He had to check the environment and the obstacle possibility first.

The McCourt mansion possessed quite a vast space. He could see the bright gate light from far away. The air seemed fresh to him. It was already dark.

He reached the gates of the mansion. He could see the clarity of darkness.

He woke up Jenny, 'Janet, wake up, we've come.'

She woke up like a little girl, 'We're here already? So fast?'

They went to the front door. The evening sun made the mansion look mesmerizing.

They knocked on the door. There was an awkward silence. He hated this type of silence. It felt like a lifetime.

The door opened. A woman opened the door, 'Who are you?'

He replied, 'We are here for Mr. Charles McCourt.'

She frowned, 'Are you from army? Grandpa died many years ago.'

He was speechless. The last guy to answer his questions, his last hope, had died, maybe before he was born. He mourned, 'Oh, I am so sorry to hear that, really I am. I wasn’t aware about his death.'

She asked, 'So again, who are you?'

He was perplexed, 'I am Michael R....Reeve.'

She was shocked, 'You are a Reeve? You are someone from Reeve?'

He nodded, he didn’t know why. Jenny was surprised too.

He could see the tears in the woman's eye. She was crying, for something.

She wiped her tears, 'Come on in, make yourself at home.'

The mansion was truly a castle from inside. Every artifacts, every furniture, every area was well decorated. The mansion had a royal vibe, he could feel that.

The lady asked, 'What will you both have?'

He said without hesitation, 'A bottle of Bourbon, unshaken, please.'

She laughed, 'The Reeve blood has a affinity to Bourbon I think.'

She went away.

He walked around the house. There was a big portrait of Charles on the center wall, he was quite handsome. His certificates, qualifications, army medals were on the wall.

Jenny stood by a picture, 'Hey Mike, can you come here for a sec?'

He went to Jenny, the picture was of Charles' military training starting day, it was written below the picture.

Jenny pointed a man. Mike saw the inevitable. It was him, with a weird cut of beard, and some muscle. But Mike was sure, it was his face.

'That day, grandpa was very happy, dad told me.' the lady entered in the room.

He grinned, 'Well, who wouldn’t be happy in his beginning of service day, Ms.?'

He didn’t know the name.

She felt shy, 'Oh, my apology, I should have told my name, I am Ms. Britney McCourt.'

They shook hand. He said, 'She is Ms. Janet Hoffman, my close friend.'

They sat with the Bourbon. Mike made the Bourbon shaken like before to make the foamy taste. They gossiped for a while.

She asked, 'So, when did grandpa Reeve die?'

He said firmly, 'Long before Mr. Charles. Did he never tell you?'

She sighed, 'He just told about their good times, their enjoying times, never about the hard times. Oh wait, I have something for you.'

She went to another room. Jenny looked tensed, 'Mike, I feel something wrong. Please, we should leave.'

He said nothing, just looked at her.

She came with a box, a book on it, titled 'Me & Reeve'.