Broken Road (26 page)

There was a soft knock on her bedroom door. She turned away from her thoughts and went to open it. As she had guessed, it was Benjamin.

“Benjamin,” she stated flatly.

Staring at the ground, he responded, “Hello, Morgan.”

“What’s up?” she asked irritably.

“I was w-w-wondering if there was…um…anything…”

“Spit it out, Benjamin,” she said, annoyed at his sickening pauses. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with his stammering, boorish ways today. She had too much on her mind and felt as though she was running out of time. The more time Jarrod and Angelise spent together, the harder it would be to separate them.

“Anything new on…the p-pretty…”

“Angelise, Angelise, Angelise. Why don’t you ever use her name? I’ve given you like a gazillion pictures of her, and you still just call her ‘the pretty girl.’ Why?”

“I haven’t…m-m-met…her yet. It’s not…r-right,” he sputtered.

“But it’s fine to send flowers and collect photos of her?”

“You sent the flowers and…you t-t-took the pictures of her.”

“For you. I’m busting a gut trying to help you get the girl and you’re doing absolutely nothing,” she said angrily.

“What do you w-w-want me to do?”

“Talk to her. Ask her out on a date. I don’t know…just do something,” she wailed, flailing her arms in the air.

“I c-can’t,” he said, finally looking up at her.

“Why not? If you want to get together with her, you’ll have to eventually ask her out. I’m not going to do it for you. Plus, what are you so worried about? You know she likes you.” At this point she had told so many lies that she was almost beginning to believe them herself.

“It’s too soon. I need just a l-little m-m-more time. Please.”

“Fine. One more week is all you’re getting out of me. Then you’re on your own. Got it?”

“Okay.”

Morgan attempted to close her bedroom door when he spoke again. “Morgan?”

She shut her eyes tightly and said in a bored and bothered tone, “What?”

“I need m-m-more…pictures,” he requested.

“Jeez, you are one sick, demented—”

“
Don’t say that!
” he screamed. He began to pull at his hair and walk in small circles. “D-d-don’t…say that. D-d-don’t…”

“Fine!” she screamed back, slamming the door to her room. She immediately locked it as well. Dear God, this man was nuts. Well, she only needed him long enough to scare Angelise sufficiently to send her and her packed bags back to Bradenton. After that she would have all the time in the world to work on getting Jarrod back. After all, he still had his college education to think of. He wouldn’t be able to follow her out there. Eventually he’d get lonely and find himself in need of female companionship, and lo and behold, Morgan would be there waiting with open arms, more than willing to let him find comfort in them. She threw herself on her bed and stared unblinkingly at the ceiling while she fervently hoped all her plans would turn out well.

The next day Angel picked up her mail and was thumbing through it when she noticed a large manila envelope that did not include a return address. She sat down at her desk and opened the envelope. In it she found an eight by ten photo of herself. The photo was taken of her last week. It had been Tuesday, because she recognized the exterior of Smathers Library, where she had gone to research information she needed for her Expository and Argumentative Writing class. She was sitting on the front steps, wearing her favorite turquoise tank top and jeans, looking out toward a group of students that had convened and were laughing wildly. Angel stared at the photo as her eyes began to blur. A large heart had been drawn in red marker around her face and written next to it, in black ink, was the word, “Mine.”

She looked at the envelope again and then looked inside to see if there was a note. Nothing. All of a sudden, her phone rang, causing Angel to jump. She shook herself out of her thoughts, retrieved her phone from her handbag, and answered it.

“Hello?”

Silence answered her.

“Hello?” Angel said again, only a bit louder.

This time there was something, but no words were spoken. Just breathing. Heavy, concentrated breathing.

“Hello,” she repeated in anger.

More deep breathing.

“Stop it. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but I want you to stop it. Don’t call me or send me anything again or I’ll call the police. I mean it. Just leave me alone.” She hung up the phone angrily and found herself shaking and began to cry. Who was doing this? She sat down on her bed as she tried to calm herself down. She took slow, deep breaths and walked over to the mini-fridge she and Ava shared and grabbed a bottle of water. She started to drink from it when the phone rang again. She jumped once again, and some of the water splashed out.

“Damn,” she said. She looked at her phone and saw it was Ileana on the other end. She picked up and said, “Hi.”

“Hi! What’s up?”

“Nothing good,” Angel said as she sat down and wiped her eyes and dabbed at her nose with a tissue.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“I wish it were that simple.”

“I don’t understand,” said Ileana.

“Ile, I think the person who sent me the flowers is more than just a secret admirer,” she said as she began to cry again.

“What do you mean? Angel, are you alright?” Ileana heard Angel sniffling and immediately sensed there was trouble.

“I mean, I think, he might be a…stalker.”

“I’ll be right over. Don’t go anywhere,” Ileana said before hanging up.

An hour or so later, Angel and Ileana sat together on the large sofa in the common room in whispered conversation. The atmosphere was implausibly boisterous with so many students milling about; some chatted, while others watched television or played games such as foosball or pool. They would have preferred to have stayed in Angel’s room, but Ava was studying for a big exam and required total silence, so they opted to sit in the common room.

“Have you told Jarrod about the picture?” Ileana asked. “More importantly, have you called the police?”

“No to both your questions. I just received the picture today and I haven’t spoken to anyone about it besides you.”

“You need to tell Jarrod.”

“I’m not sure I want him to know.”

“Why not? He’s your boyfriend. He has a right to know. Besides, he can help you.”

“How can he help me?”

“Gee, let me think…duh, by protecting you,” Ileana said, annoyed and worried. She adored Angel, but sometimes her stubbornness and naïve way of seeing only the good in everyone was beyond exasperating. Here she was, receiving flowers, threatening mail, and unnerving phone calls from a total stranger, and still she found no need to inform her boyfriend or the police. Why? Because in her uncorrupt heart, she truly believed no harm would ever come to her, simply because she didn’t think anyone was malicious enough to want to hurt her.

By choice she rarely watched the news or read the newspaper, saying when she did, she was left depressed due to all the dismal occurrences that were happening in the world today. It was almost as if she preferred to live isolated in a bubble of unassailable goodness. Unfortunately, Ileana was now terrified that someone, a complete Section Eight, was out there somewhere planning on bursting that bubble.

“I don’t need someone to protect me. I can take care of myself.”

“I disagree. You are way over your head here. You need to tell him and also the police. You can’t deal with this alone.” She paused for a moment and then added, “What about your parents? They need to know what’s going on.”

“No way. Absolutely not. I don’t want to worry them unnecessarily. If they knew about this, they’d be here so fast, they’d break the sound barrier. Besides, I’m not alone. I have you.”

“Angel, I love you to death, but we have to be realistic here. What the hell can I do to protect you? I’m even smaller than you and you’re no bigger than a flea. I’m like a gnat.”

“I think gnats are bigger than fleas,” said Angel with a half grin.

“Really?” Ileana asked. “No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure fleas are…oh, what does it matter anyway? My point is that we’re both tiny. Together we couldn’t bring down a Chihuahua.”

Angel chuckled at her paradigm. Then she said, “I’m just not sure yet. Don’t say anything to him when you see him. If I decide he should know, I want to be the one to tell him. And I mean it, Ile, don’t you dare go behind my back again…”

Ileana raised her hand to stop Angel from continuing and said, “Yeah, yeah. I got it. But I strongly recommend you tell him immediately. That’s my advice to you as your best friend. You should listen to me for once. Sometimes, believe it or not, I know what I’m talking about.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

 J
ohn entered the house and soon realized no one was there. Aside from the monophonic ticking of the kitchen clock, there was complete silence. It was rare for the house to be completely empty. With three roommates, all with different work schedules, he could almost always find someone home. This was the perfect opportunity to do something he had wanted to do for quite some time, but had never gotten the chance. He walked toward Benjamin’s room and knocked on the door. No answer. Turning the doorknob, he found it was locked.

Surveying the area one last time to ensure that the coast was clear, he quickly pulled out his driver’s license from his wallet and began to jimmy the lock while turning the doorknob. He worked hurriedly, stopping every now and then to listen for sounds of approaching roommates. Surprisingly, he had only spent a few minutes performing this process when suddenly he heard a click.

“Yes,” he said while slowly turning the knob and glancing around once again before entering. Once he did, he wished he hadn’t. John was shocked to find the walls covered with pictures of a beautiful auburn-haired, green-eyed girl. She was gorgeous. But what frightened him was that these were not photos of a model or a celebrity taken from magazines. No, these were candid photos, and it was apparent this woman was not aware the photos were being taken. There were pictures of her lying on the grass, sitting on steps, getting into a car. There were also snapshots of her eating in a restaurant, leaving the theatre, and getting off of a bus. She must be a student at the university because in many of the pictures, she was carrying what appeared to be textbooks. She looked so young and innocent.

John wondered about these photos and about the girl. Was she in danger? He knew that Benjamin was strange, but was he crazy in the clinical sense?

Hundreds of photos were displayed, but when John looked closely, many were copies of the same photos. It was almost as if Benjamin was planning on wallpapering the entire room with them.

“Holy shit,” he whispered as he continued to survey the room. He carefully opened the top drawer of Benjamin’s desk, but found nothing of interest. Just a few pens, a roll of tape, and blank sheets of paper. He closed the drawer and proceeded to open the other two, finding nothing but junk. On top of the desk was a plastic bag from a local bookstore, the Book Haven, and John quickly looked inside. The bag contained three new books, all relating to the subject of angels. He placed them back in the bag and carefully returned the bag to the desk exactly as he had found it. He looked around the room and saw a Bible on the unmade bed. Numerous pages were dog-eared in the sacred writ, marking pages of interest. John quickly perused the noted pages and realized that the names of various angels had been highlighted. What was this sudden obsession with angels?