Fluffy, White Clouds - A Short Story

Surroundings of a cramped, light-starved motel room, air tainted with a trace of stale cigarette smoke to add to the putrid stench of the countless train of past unknown occupants that linger and congeal into what one could politely state as an unsettling atmosphere.

Peter sat on the edge of the bed, slouching, his head in hands, as his body shook in uncontrolled waves of fear, "Please, just one more chance! I won't fail him next time," he pleaded to the companion in the room.

Jake stood before him with his piercing glare. The air of mercy eluded the hard lines of the tired yet confident expression as he leaned forward and whispered in Peter's ear, "No more chances, no more reprieves." In one smooth motion, he raised his gun to Peter's head and pulled the trigger which caused the muffled shot and trail of smoke to escape the overworked silencer. Peter's body collapsed to the floor, vacant of life.

A jostle of the door, a woman entered the room and saw Peter's lifeless body as it lie in a pool of its own blood, head misshapen from the exit wound of a 9mm hollow-point. Impulse gave way to a scream and her body shook as Jake turned to face the frightened woman. She reacted to his cold, emotionless expression and stumbled toward the door. Jake sprung to action and grabbed her hair and threw her to the floor and as the woman flailed in desperation, Jake threw his body against hers using his weight to pin her down. Assuming control, he pressed his left thumb on her carotid artery to block the flow of blood to the brain and his right hand over her mouth and nose to block the airway. The woman struggled to no avail as Jake was too heavy and strong for the slender, weak frame to overcome his decision. As they lie there, her struggles become less frequent until her body relaxed completely. Jake unsheathed his knife and cut the artery causing a crimson pool to form on the carpet. Satisfied with the result, he leaned-in and whispered in her ear, "Good night, good night, my lovely. Parting is such sweet sorrow."

Outside the room he walked along the perimeter of the motel and stayed in the darkness to avoid any unnecessary sightings. Down the street about a quarter mile was a small rundown apartment complex where a car was parked in the shadows.

The next morning Jake exited the elevator and entered a swank office in the affluent part of the city. He eyed the receptionist as he approached. The woman looked up from her computer screen and with a plastic smile and a slight southern drawl greeted Jake. "Good morning, may I help you?" she asked.

A quick study, Jake decided on a proper response for the situation and reacted in a nervous, neurotic, uncertain manner. "Oh, um hi there, um. I am here to see Dr. Solinski. I have a ten o'clock appointment," he replied.

The receptionist typed for a moment. "Name?" she asked.

"Dr. Solinski," he responded.

"No sir, your name?" she said annoyed

Jake, played it up, "Oh, um I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous. I've never done this before."

A bit perplexed, the receptionist inquired, "You've never been to a doctor before?"

"Oh, um yes, I've been to doctors before, many of them in the past. Just not this kind," he responded.

"I see. You've never been to a psychiatrist before. Well it's not that bad, really. We take good care of our patients," she comforted.

Unable to resist the easy opening, he inquired, "So you're a doctor too?"

The vacant look on the receptionist's face quickly turned to discontent. "Your name, sir?" she quipped.

"Oh, um John Barringer," he replied.

She continued her typing and coldly added, "Please have a seat Mr. Barringer. The doctor will be with you shortly."

Jake quietly moved to the waiting area and paused between two chairs then veered toward one, rethought, and headed toward the other. He took his seat and continued his charade by acting quite nervous and introverted.

Moments later a thin, balding man appeared from behind the door of Dr. Solinki's office and headed toward the reception desk. He was followed by a tall, husky man, "Just make your appointment for next week Mr. Childs and we'll continue then." Mr. Childs obeyed without question and stood quietly as the receptionist scheduled the appointment.

Jake looked down yet watched and listened to his surroundings as the tall, husky man made his way across the room and positioned his imposing form before Jake. "I believe you would be Mr. Barringer?" he asked.

Jake, timid, trained his gaze to the doctor and nodded slowly. The man raised his hand in expectation of a handshake. "I'm Dr. Solinski, Mr. Barringer. How are you today?" Jake responded in-kind and shook the doctor's hand as he rose from his chair. He noticed a firm grip and the doctor's hand is not the usual soft businessman's hand. It was slightly calloused and rough. This man has extracurricular activities that require physical labor. He made note of this oddity.

"Please, sir, right this way." The doctor motioned toward his office and made his way toward the door. Jake followed, head slightly down—eyes fixed on the floor.

The two men enter the office. Jake noted his surroundings. The office was well appointed but not cluttered, offering a calming atmosphere.

Dr. Solinski motioned Jake toward the chair facing his desk, then took his place behind the desk. "So, Mr. Barringer. What brings you to my office?" he asked.

Jake repositioned himself. "I'm have a little trouble sleeping lately," he replied.

"There are many good sleep agents on the market these days. Are you here for a prescription?" he asked a bit suspicious.

"Oh no. I am very opposed to medication if it can be avoided." He paused then continued, "I believe it is much more than restlessness or running thoughts. I don't have trouble falling asleep. It's the persistent, frequent, abrupt waking that is causing the trouble," he explained.

"You believe a deep-seated issue needs resolution?" he asked.

"Indeed," Jake replied agreeable.

"Well, Mr Barringer, I believe I can help you with that." He gives his pitch: "We'll need to do some tests and evaluate and correlate data to come up with a proper strategy..."

"No," Jake interrupted.

"Mr. Barringer, there is proper procedure to analysis..." he attempted to inform.

"Just talk is all I require at this time," he interrupted again.

The doctor noticed a profound change in Jake's demeanor and mannerisms. He was confident, straightforward. "Well, I suppose this would be a good starting point as well. And if this is what you require, this is what we can do for you," the doctor surrendered. "As you are all paid-up for the month we can begin," he added.

"That would be fine," said Jake.

Dr. Solinksi leaned back and collected his thoughts to formulate a strategy. "If you would, tell me about yourself. What is it you do for a living?" he asked.

A little hesitant, he replied, "I do contract work."

"Oh? What field?"

"Personal relations."

Dr. Solinski looked thoughtful. "So you inter-relate with the public?" he asked.

"I do," he said matter-of-fact.

"Any upsets in your life recently?"

"None I can think of."

"You say you wake abruptly from a dead-sleep. Can you remember any of the dreams just prior?"

"Just that I'm being chased is all."

"Chased huh? I see." Dr. Solinski paused briefly, He continued, "And you have no recollection of what is chasing you?"

"No."

"Do you have any deadlines at work coming up?"

"There's always a deadline due. That's what I do—meet deadlines."

"So you have a high pressure job?"

"An understatement," he assured.

"Just to maybe gain some ground here; why do you think this is happening?"

Jake's expression moved from interest to rigid. "I really have no idea doctor."

Dr. Solinski sensed the tension build. He eased back. "Oh, that's alright, Mr. Barringer. May I call you by your first name, John?" he asked.

As he continued to display a slight rigidity, Jake responded, "That is acceptable. It may be helpful I believe."

Dr. Solinski smiled in an attempt to ease Jake's obvious apprehension. "I believe you're correct, John," he tried his first name on for size. He smiled again.

A while later Jake exited the doctor's office and headed to the reception desk. The receptionist turned to address Jake: "That wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked.

"Well, um not at all. A new experience for sure," he replied.

"Shall I schedule you same time next week, Mr Barringer?"

"Oh, um yes, that would be fine."

She typed briefly on her computer. "All righty Mr. Barringer, You're all set to go. We'll see you next Tuesday at ten a.m."

"Um, okay, well then I'll see you. Bye," he said as he began his trek toward the elevator.

"Bye, bye now," the receptionist replied as she gazed at her monitor.

That night Jake readied for work. It seemed a client was not happy with one of his employees. It has become apparent to the client that a little skimming had been occurring and the client needed a professional to take care of the situation—permanently.

Jake showered and groomed as usual. He was meticulous about his grooming and dress. Nothing but the finest "work" clothes. His suits were custom-made but not too expensive as they were work clothes and can become messy from time to time. If they cannot be cleaned to his satisfaction they will be discarded for a new garment. He is a professional of the highest calibre and he commanded a professional's fee; he can afford it. Tonight's job however, is quid pro quo. He owed a return favor and he intended to repay it in short order. Jake liked his obligations tidy, no loose ends.

An attractive woman sat behind a desk in an old warehouse. Her work demanded concentration and no distractions from the surrounding area. The warehouse is dark abd only the office was lit. The security guard sits by the main door and is half-conscious.

Jake arrived from behind the building and quickly scanned the area for any escape routes and obstacles. He cautiously walked the perimeter looking for easy entry. A boarded window showed potential but not as easy as his next choice; picking the side door lock. No alarm would sound as the warehouse was still occupied. He pulled his lock pick set from his inner coat pocket and focused on the lock. Before attempting to pick the lock he tried a trick he learned long ago—first see if the door was locked. A quick check of the knob revealed the door, foolishly, was unlocked. Ever cautious, Jake put his ear to the door to check what could potentially lurk on the other side. No noises, no voices. He made the mistake before of entering an area that was supposedly vacant only to surprise the occupants. That mistake is usually made only once as you will not survive to make it again. Jake was fortunate in that the occupants were just that much slower than he and he was a better shot.

A slight opening of the doorway allowed Jake to slide through and he quickly moved for cover behind a pallet of stacked crates. A survey of the area revealed the half-conscious guard and the lit office. He double checked and was satisfied there were only two in the warehouse then skirted the perimeter and made his way to the guard. He was seated— back against the wall with arms crossed, gun holstered and secured. Jake scoured the floor in front of him for obstacles or any debris that would make a sound if stepped on to alert the guard of his presence.

Jake hugged the wall and inched forward then gingerly unsheathed his knife and moved closer. Now within a few feet he lunged forward and grabbed the guard's hair, pulled his head back and sliced the his throat. Not a sound was made. Jake grabbed hold of the guard's uniform and guided the body as it fell to the floor.

Remaining in the shadows, he moved toward the office door. His target in sight, he remained diligent. He slid along the wall creeping up to the doorway then burst into the room—gun trained on his target. The attractive woman remained calm. Jake moved in quick and pressed the silencer's muzzle against her temple. The woman continued her typing. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked.

Jake was a bit perplexed as to her calm demeanor. Most would be groveling by this point. "Any last words?" he asked. All of his targets get one last word. Most waste the opportunity.

In a display of confidence, the woman turned to Jake and made her pitch: "Half the money and me," she offered.

"How much?" asked Jake.

"Half of 250K and all of me," she responded.

"I meant, how much of my time are you going to waste?" He fired one round center forehead.

Days later Jake returned to the doctor's office for his next appointment. As he approached reception the woman flashed her plastic smile. "Good morning Mr. Barringer. You're right on time. Please have a seat," she said as she motioned to the waiting area. Jake took his seat.

Moments later a young unattractive woman appeared from the doctor's office and strolled to reception. Doctor Solinski stood in the doorway and waved him over. Jake rose and headed for the doctor's office.

"Well how are you today John?" he asked.

"Oh, just fine today Doc," replied Jake as he took his seat.

The doctor sat behind his desk. "Shall we get started?" He gave a brief look in John's folder. "Today I want to start with your past," he said.

"I don't believe that's a good place to start," said Jake.

The doctor looked apprehensive. "Well that's fine. I can accommodate," he said.

"So tell me about your childhood. Who in your life troubled you, John," he asked.

Jake became agitated. "I will not talk about that with you. I said no history and that's that!" he exclaimed.

The doctor looked at Jake and smiled. "If you don't want to talk about that John then we don't have to. So let's move on shall we?" he said. He again looked in John's folder then continued, "So tell me about your childhood. Who in your life troubled you, John," he asked.

Jake stood and grabbed the letter opener off the desk "I said no childhood, no history!" he exclaimed and stabbed the doctor's hand, pinning it to the desk. The doctor shrieked in pain. Jake made his way behind the desk. The doctor lifted the pinned hand shredding it as he lifted past the slim handle in the opener. He grabbed Jake by the neck. Jake could tell the doctor had prior training in the art of assassination. The two struggled behind the desk and a grappling war ensued. Jake was easily overpowered by the doctor's large frame and girth. He applied pressure to a sensitive area of the doctor's anatomy. Just under the doctor's chin was what he decided. The doctor loosened his grip and Jake was able to swing around and put the doctor in a sleeper hold. He kept pressure applied until the doctor was unconscious then unsheathed his knife and slit the doctor's throat. Jake heard a noise and looked up and noticed the nurse with the plastic smile stood there in fear and made quick business of rounding the desk and lunged toward her. He wrapped his hands around her throat and felt relieved as all life left the woman's body. Her lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

Jake hurried from the office and walked in haste to the elevator. He hurried through the lobby of the building and found himself in the bright sunshine and as he looked up and saw clouds in the sky he began to imagine himself among the clouds as if he was floating free of all worries and responsibilities. Hm, fluffy, white clouds. I do feel better, he thought.

Doctor Solinski entered the patient's cell. The nurse with the plastic smile handed the doctor a filled hypodermic. The doctor walked to the bed and stood over the man. "I believe the new formula is working nurse. He seems rather sedate now. We'll continue with the dosage," he said. "Yes doctor," she replied. The patient lie on the bed of his padded cell as he stared toward the ceiling in a state of reverie and wore a sickly smile. He began to drool and relax as he continued to stare at the fluffy, white clouds painted on the ceiling

The End

art source: Pic