Oliver lay in his bed in the mid-afternoon, looking around the room as it were a cage, and he was the feverish bird wanting to escape. It had been two days since his strange hallucinatory dream of the girl and her questions he could not answer. He felt extremely cooped up inside his small apartment bedroom, with the lights always off and the sunrays faintly shining through the thick curtains, leaving a gloomy look within the room. With his fever gradually disappearing and his health being regained, Oliver decided it was time he got up from his bed and actually move his limbs for the first time in a couple of days. He sat up, and noticing that his head didn’t feel so stuffy and clammy, he got enough strength to rip away the covers and simply get out of bed within a few seconds. His fever seemed to have almost completely gone away, and nothing could have made him happier.
“Ahhhh…” he sighed as he stretched and opened the curtains to a bright, blinding glare from the sun on the cold window. He felt fully rejuvenated, and at that point in time he wasn’t even thinking of his strange, haunting experiences during the past week; in fact, he wasn’t thinking much at all. He just felt good. After making his bed and letting more light into the apartment, he took a hot shower, made a breakfast of toast and eggs, and began playing a Keith Jarrett album on the record player. As he sat back on his bed and ate his breakfast, he attempted to wonder why exactly he had been feeling so strange lately, and even more so, why he suddenly felt so carefree. To his surprise, he simply couldn’t remember what had irked him so much about the past several days. He thought about the morning when he was disturbed by the silence of his apartment, he thought about the gangster movie on TV that had made him surprisingly uncomfortable, and in no way could he forget the dream of the girl. He tried to find a reason for his unusual emotions, but somehow he couldn’t come up with a logical answer. Besides, there was no point in trying to rationalize his past misery, and as he finished his breakfast, he decided to take a walk around the town.
It was about 8:00 when Oliver walked out the door into the second-story hallway of Thallow Flats. His family was already home, so there was no need to lock the door. He walked downstairs and was almost out the door when he turned the corner in the hallway and ran right into a man walking the opposite direction. “Whoa!” exclaimed Oliver, as he stopped in surprise. “Sorry, are you alright? I didn’t see you there.” The man looked up, and Oliver instantly recognized him, from where he couldn’t remember. “Oh…yeah, I’m fine,” the man said. “It’s okay. Sorry about that.” He began to walk past Oliver, but Oliver turned around and said, “Sorry, but don’t I know you from somewhere?” The man turned towards Oliver with a puzzled look on his face and said, “Um…I…don’t know. My name’s Ace, but I don’t know–“ “Oh yeah, Ace!” Oliver said, suddenly remembering who he was. “That’s right, I remember you from poker down at the tavern. I don’t know if you remember me, though, it was a while ago, and I’ve only been a few times.”
“Oliver?” said Ace, looking closely at him. “Hey, yeah, I remember you. How’s it going?” “Not too bad,” said Oliver, trying not to get into an explanation of his strange whirlwind of emotions from the past week. “How’ve you been? Are you still playing down there?” “Yep, still playing, but it’s been a little…slow lately,” said Ace, looking off to the side and seeming a bit tired. “Oh. Well, yeah, I guess sometimes you just seem to hit a dry spot, you know?” Oliver said, trying to understand exactly what he meant by that. “Well, it was good seeing you, Ace.” Ace looked back at Oliver and said, “Oh yeah, you too. I, uh, guess I’ll see you around.” “See ya,” replied Oliver. Oliver then walked out onto the street and tried to remember why he stopped going to the poker nights. “Oh well,” he thought. “This isn’t the time to think. This is the time to just walk.” And so he walked out into the night.
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Since the car was in the shop, Henry had been getting a lot of exercise. He pretty much walked the same route everyday: first to the parking garage to check on the car, then to the tattoo parlor for work, and then back to the apartment. Henry would occasionally take a walk across the street to the tavern to watch some basketball and have a drink. This particular day, however, was a little bit different. Finally all of Henry's locks were in place and he made sure to triple lock the door to apartment 421 on his way out to go to work. He checked on his car at the parking garage, it has been there for 5 days now, and then he walked to All American tattoo. Work was slow today and Henry was relieved when it was over. He walked back to Thallow Flats considering visiting the tavern tonight to watch the Bulls vs the Lakers game. Henry took the elevator up to the 4th floor and strolled over to door 421. He reached inside his pants pocket to grab his keys but they weren't there. Henry began to fumble around frantically in the rest of his pants pockets but the keys were no where to be found. Henry panicked. He had been so good at not losing anything ever since Jennifer had disappeared. But this was just too much. Henry's first reaction was to retrace all of his steps since he had left his apartment this morning. Henry bolted to the elevator and mashed the button. A cold sweat was dripping down Henry's face as he paced back and forth outside the elevator. It felt like an eternity to Henry for that elevator door to open, but finally it did. Henry jumped on and pushed the lobby button. Henry sat down in a corner of the elevator and rubbed his temples.
"This can't be happening..." Henry muttered out loud.
Henry's vision began to blur and it felt like the whole room was spinning.
"Are you alright? You don't look too good."
Henry snapped back to reality.
"Huh? Who is that?" he replied.
In his panicky state, Henry didn't notice there was another man on the elevator.
"Hi, I'm Oliver. It's a pleasure to meet you. What's the problem?"
"I lost my keys and I have no idea where they are. I can't get into my room. What am I going to do?"
Ding. The elevator doors opened to the lobby.
"Well first you need to stand up and get off the elevator. Then me and you are going to report your lost keys to the man at the main desk," Oliver said reassuringly.
They walked over to the front desk and before they even got a chance to say anything, the guy at the desk said, "Mr. Wilson, we've been waiting for you. A woman dropped these off earlier," he was holding Henry's keys, "and said she found them outside room 421. We figured they were yours. How about you take a look."
"Those are definitely mine," Henry said without even looking, "Thank you so much."
Henry face widened into a huge smile. He was so happy he forgot anyone else was there and didn't bother to thank Oliver. He ran to the stairs and expressed his excitement by taking 3 per stride on his way up to room 421. He unlocked the locks and swung open the door. Henry's face radiated relief. Home sweet home.
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