The man catcher Part 1 of 2 ...a monster lying in wait for me

I was drawn to Maya and seduced by her dark looks.

She always struck me as a perfect example of approach-avoidance—beautiful and devious—especially with men and that was probably why although she and I dated briefly in college, I ended up choosing Stella, her rival, instead.

Maya never forgave me, and saw my choice of Stella as an unforgivable rejection of her.

Although we moved in the same social circles, I managed to avoid Maya's simmering hatred and barbed comments, until my assignment editor insisted I obtain an interview with Basil Hawthorne, the world-renowned illusionist, and coincidentally, Maya's uncle.

“I don’t care how you do it, just do it,” the editor declared.

Interviewing the man would be an impossible task unless I had an inside track, and of course, would mean going through Maya.

Under ordinary circumstances I would be delighted to meet her uncle. He had a distinguished career in the British army rising through the ranks from drill sergeant to attain the rank of colonel before he retired.

After retirement, he added to his mystique as the world’s most interesting man by making a name for himself as a spellbinding illusionist, often being mentioned in the same breath as David Copperfield or Houdini.

So, like it or not, the only way to interview Uncle Basil was to swallow my pride and grovel before his niece.

“I can’t believe you’re engaged to Stella, Theo—I expected more from you.”

Maya's bitterness was dripping from her lips like spider’s venom.

I invited her to play tennis as a gesture to break the ice between us, but so far my plan wasn’t working.

“Look, Maya, I invited you out today in the hope of ending our rift. Can’t we just put all this behind us and be friends?”

“We can,” she teased, with a sly gleam in her eye, “if you tell me what you really want. I know there’s something you haven’t told me.”

I was caught like a rat in a trap and there was nothing to do but come clean.

“I really do want to reconcile with you, Maya, but you’re right—there’s something else I need. I’d like you to arrange an interview with your uncle.”

I steeled myself for her backlash, but surprisingly, it didn’t come.

“See? I knew there was something more. Why are men so afraid to be direct?”

I hung my head in shame.

“You know, Theo, I ought to hate you, but I don’t. I’m over that now. I should scorn you and send you away, but we do move in the same social circles and we should be adult—even about this regrettable faux pas. To show there are no hard feelings, I’ll speak to my uncle and contact you when I know his answer.”

I thanked her profusely, trying not to fawn or appease her too much—and I especially tried to hide my self-satisfied smile.

I feigned penitence, hung my head in shame and muttered, “Thank you, Maya.”

Her smug smile told me I’d soon be interviewing Uncle Basil.

Two days later, Maya and I were up at dawn to make the three-hour drive out into the countryside to meet Basil Hawthorne at his country estate.

I heard rumors about his luxurious retreat—some called it a manse, and others a castle. I must admit my curiosity was piqued.

We followed a winding lane for about a quarter of a mile before approaching an imposing seven-foot wall guarded by a massive iron gate.

“We have to get out here, and enter the main house through a maze.”

I looked at her puzzled. “Your uncle has a maze?”

“Oh, that’s Uncle Basil,” she laughed, “always arranging for some dramatic entrance to impress visitors.”

“I hope you know how to navigate it.”

“Really, Theo—I'll guide you through the labyrinth.”

“Then, I hope you brought some thread,” I laughed.

We got out of the car and bypassed the locked gate walking some distance along the wall before coming to a small green wooden door.

“Well, here we are—Hernando’s Hideaway,” she chuckled.

“Do I have to knock three times and whisper low?”

“No, Silly—you just have to follow me and don’t let me out of your sight.”

That wouldn’t be hard. Maya was dressed in a mid-rift bearing top and jean shorts that accentuated her derriere. I refrained from comment on that topic.

When we cracked open the wooden door I couldn’t believe my eyes.Before us were two parallel rows of cedars at least ten feet high, with a narrow corridor between them, bending out of sight.

“C’mon, Theo—take my hand and hold tight.”

Despite misgivings, I took hold of her hand, and when I did, she turned slightly to face me and leaned in to whisper, “And don’t get me into any dark corners.”

At close quarters, the scent of her expensive perfume was intoxicating, as were her huge eyes.

She had a mischievous smirk on her face and despite my aversion to her, I was curiously drawn as well, as if the one force energized the other.

We set out down the corridor that was about the width of a normal household door—only this corridor bent and curved, looped back and divided—until after walking for perhaps no more than thirty feet, I was totally disoriented and lost.

She tugged at my shirtsleeve playfully. “Hurry up, slowpoke—Uncle Basil’s expecting us.”

Then, she stopped suddenly. “Oh dear!”

“What is it?” I asked, alarmed she may have forgotten the way.

“Oh, it’s nothing—just the fact I told Uncle I’d phone him when we arrived so he’d be prepared to receive us—he hates being caught off guard. But I forgot my cell phone—may I borrow yours?”

“Of course.” I handed her my I-phone and watched her punch in the numbers.

I backed off a few paces to respect her privacy. She immediately switched into a bright lively tone I can honestly say I never heard before from her.

She was trying to conclude the call quickly, but her uncle seemed to want to talk. She shrugged her shoulders, as if to say, what can you do? She made a cute frown and winked at me.

I sat down on the grass listening to her conversation drag on. At length, it came to an end and I got to my feet to continue on with her, but to my dismay, discovered she was gone.

I called her name—calmly at first, and then, with rising panic. Finally, thinking irrationally she might not be able to hear, I began shouting.

After a few minutes of making myself hoarse, I came to the inevitable conclusion I had been tricked.

Maya, the spider, had lured me out into the middle of nowhere only to trap me in her web.

I could only hope there was no monster lying somewhere in wait for me.

Photos: https://goo.gl/images/Nhc31R, https://goo.gl/images/QegTsg,
https://goo.gl/images/3rbR71, https://goo.gl/images/RjaDtx