Wounded Air by Rick R. Reed

Author:Rick R. Reed [Reed, Rick R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, contemporary, established couples, Chicago, gay, spirits, visions, hauntings, crime, drug addiction
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2021-04-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

The train screeched and rumbled as it hurtled us to the Western stop on the Brown Line—and maybe an uncertain future. Western was my former stop, my old neighborhood, just minutes away from my new one.

How odd that Karl and I had simply changed places. Perhaps our moving vans passed as we made our way to different lives.

Karl made it clear he didn’t want to meet with us. I could tell as much from the one side of the phone conversation I overheard. Yet Paula pleaded with him, and she must have been persuasive enough. He didn’t invite us to wherever he lived now. He did agree to meet us at the Starbucks on Lincoln and Wilson. Paula told me, after hanging up, that he said he only had a half hour or so; and then he had to get to work.

I laughed as we got off the train, not because anything was funny, but simply because I was suddenly so nervous. A week ago, if someone had told me I’d find myself enmeshed in such bizarre circumstances, I would have told that person they were crazy. And yes, I get the irony—maybe I was the one who was crazy. Still, we were here. Soon, we’d be meeting a major player who’d figured in my nightmares.

Paula glanced back. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh God, nothing. Actually—this. This whole situation. I never would have believed I’d be doing this a week ago.” I felt like I’d suddenly taken the lead role in a movie, only I knew none of my lines, nor what character I was supposed to be playing. It was a master class in improvisation.

The train lurched to a stop and the door slid open. We joined the other passengers disembarking. A wind blew toward us from the north, chilling. We headed down the stairs and out of the station. A train rumbled on the tracks above us. This used to be my old stop. It felt so familiar. I’d come out of this train station countless times before.

We headed south.

“What’s he like?” I asked.

“Karl?” Paula shrugged. “He’s a nice guy. Not as crazy as Tommy was…” She stopped herself when I think she realized she referred to Tommy in the past tense. “Not as crazy as Tommy, but sweet. He’s worked hard to rebuild after Tommy left.”

Even though the day was bright and sunny, there was still that snap of cold in the air. We headed down Lincoln Avenue, the traffic heading north and south. It seemed like just another ordinary day. And at the same time, I felt like I was on a precipice, at the edge of anything could happen.

It felt good once we got inside the Starbucks, warm, the place redolent with the smell of fresh ground coffee and scalded milk. There were a few folks at the tables with their laptops and their smartphones, engaged. A few more swarmed around the counter, awaiting their orders.

We stood near the door, looking for Karl.

What if he doesn’t show up? He doesn’t have to.

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