A Terrible Font of Light

I was sitting at dinner across from my lovely girlfriend Sissy. We were eating out at a trendy bistro on the opposite side of town before leaving for Paris. Sissy was having the sicilian chicken, and I ordered the beef flank steak. We got our usual corner booth near the back of the darkly lit restaurant.

The gentlemen that were sitting at this particular table before us seemed to have left some of their files behind. I notified the waitress, and she said that they were due to come back soon for them. Apparently the two gentlemen gave strict orders to leave the files at the table and that they would pick them up themselves. I thought that was an extremely odd request, but admittedly, I didn't even think twice about it. I had a lot on my mind, we were going to Paris, after all. Much had to be done before leaving that night, the last flight of the day.

Two sharply dressed men approached the table. The one was asiatic in his features and skin color. The other gentleman was a white man with an eye patch over his left eye. He had scars which looked to be the result of cigarette burns on his right hand. I counted five of them at least. They approached us and made a simple request. "May we sit down at your table for a moment. I need to enter some information into my computer before we leave."

Before I could reply, the white gentleman was sitting next to me in the booth. The asian gentleman remained standing. I asked him who he was and what he was doing, but he simply replied that he was in quite a hurry and that there was no time for this sort of hub-bub right now. I thought this gentleman to be quite rude, indeed. I was about to call the waitress over. Before I could though, the gentleman pulled out his laptop. I was mesmerized by it. It seemed to be strangely above what technology is. There was a certain mystical quality to it. The display looked advanced, and the screenshots that seemed to be popping off the display were hypnotic. I don't even remember what I was looking at. The gentleman was furiously typing. The sound and the colors made me instantly lose my mind, and I was sucked into a different world.

When I came to, everything was just as it was before. Sissy was eating her dinner and drinking her wine. The asian gentleman was still standing. And the white man was by my side. The two gentlemen were talking. I looked at the laptop again and noticed the wireless card that was jutting out the side of the computer. For some reason, I wanted to put it in my mouth. I wanted to taste it. I was sure it had a distinct taste. I thought maybe that's where the magic was coming from. I was going to consume it whole, and it would be a part of me forever.

The two were clearly distracted. Sissy didn't notice. I pulled the card out and begin chewing on it. It was fragile, delicate...it broke into a million pieces upon first contact with my molars. I was disappointed though -- it was just plastic. It tasted distinctly like technology. I didn't feel any magic.

Instantly though, I was frightened out of my mind. Worry crept over me like a disease. We were going to be late, I knew that. The men were going to realize what I just did. I was scared. I turned to Sissy. "We need to leave. Now." She didn't understand why though. She looked at me, absolutely puzzled. I whispered in her ear, "I'm going to be in a lot of trouble with these men. Let's leave now." She didn't want to because we weren't finished with our meal yet. I guess that's completely understandable. I told her to just trust me and that I'd explain after we had left. We got up. They didn't notice.

I found our waitress, slipped thirty bucks into her hand, and said to her that we had to leave in a hurry. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

We went back to the house and gathered together our luggage. We had plenty of time before the shuttle would arrive to take us to the airport -- about twenty minutes. Sissy's father would be meeting us at the airport. He's a technician for the airline and got us seats as stand-by passengers for the flight to Paris. The shuttle arrived. The driver retrieved our luggage and put it on the luggage racks near the front of the shuttle. We sat in the back. I fell asleep, my head resting on her shoulder. We arrived at the airport with an hour before board-time.

When pressed to describe Sissy's father, I normally reply that he looks strikingly like an older George Clooney. No one ever seemed to see the resemblance but me. People think I'm crazy. So pops met us out in front of the ticketing and check-in area of the airport. I noticed that my luggage was missing. An undescribable fear crept over me once again. I felt panic all around me. My heart raced.

My cell phone rang.

"Esteban, we have your luggage here on the shuttle. I'll be driving back. I seem to be stuck though. There's a slight situation here, and traffic is at a standstill. It may be 20 more minutes before I can pull back around near where you are."

I was very confused. Ten stressful minutes passed. Sissy's father told me everything would be fine, that we'd just be in a slight hurry is all. Sissy gave me a worried expression. She said I was turning pale. I thought maybe I shouldn't have eaten the gentleman's wireless card.

I called the shuttle number back. This time a man with a Nigerian accent answered. He said one thing to me.

"I can see you and your girlfriend."

A terrible vision befell me. So I walked over to the nearest police officer and punched him in the face. I broke his nose. I sucker punched him. Hit him in the kidneys. Kicked him while he was down. Two officers came from behind and tackled me. Led me off in cuffs.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

In the newspaper it would say that a crazy man assaulted a uniformed police officer for no apparent reason. I did it out of desperation though, because I could not be on that plane. I don't know for certain, but I have an inkling that if I reach a certain altitude that I'll blow up into a million pieces. I imagined that plastic wireless card in mouth falling apart and radiating light with an awful power.

"Likely story," they told me. "We've heard of your kind before."