Time Skip by Craig L. Seymour

Author:Craig L. Seymour
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2014-06-19T23:00:00+00:00

*****

The next day Lovelle arrived with a second cooler, several half gallon jugs of water for urine containment, more food and drink, and, if the cooler’s specifications could be believed, enough ice to hold him through the next several days. He had also purchased some air freshener specifically designed to remove pet urine odors. The next two days went very much like the first, save for the peeing in cans. Each day he was able to keep his urine sealed in a single bottle and iced down in its own cooler. This made the experience somewhat more pleasant, even if the results were the same.

The fourth day started off just like the others. His level of boredom was increasing exponentially, and so was his snacking. By the time lunchtime came around he had eaten so many chips he wasn’t really hungry. He nibbled at a sandwich, just wishing for something interesting to occur. Then he got his wish.

As he held the binoculars to his face trying to focus on a man about to enter the mosque, another man’s face peered in though his rear window. Through the binoculars the face appeared huge and blurry. Startled, Lovelle dropped the binoculars and nearly fell backwards in his chair. He caught his balance and focused on the man, who discreetly held a badge up to the window. The man muttered something in German and Lovelle answered him with a blank stare. His heart sank down to about the level of his knees. A moment earlier he was wondering if he had it in him to continue on with the monotony of surveillance. Now he was thinking how pleasant that boredom had been as opposed to the fear he was feeling.

The man repeated himself more forcefully and pulled at the door handle. Lovelle nodded his ascension and held up a single finger, indicating for the man to wait a moment. He opened the door and explained his language problem. “No sprechen! Only English!”

The man climbed up into the van and pulled the door shut behind him. He squatted in front of Lovelle and shrugged. “What are you doing?” He asked in accented but excellent English. The man acted as though there were no need to explain who he was or by what authority he was questioning Lovelle. Lovelle was not about to say anything. Even if the man were not a person of authority, he was quite obviously packing heat. And it was quite obvious that Lovelle was up to something, even if what that something was, was less than clear.

Lovelle’s mind raced to find an answer for the man. He briefly considered stonewalling with some ridiculous lie. But, he wasn’t in the U.S., and without the protection of American jurisprudence it occurred to Lovelle that it might not be the wisest of choices. Besides, there he sat with his picnic lunch, binoculars, and a bottle of his own urine. Any tale that didn’t include an admission that Lovelle was on a stakeout was not going to pass muster.

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