Thomas rushed into the
room, slamming the door. He quickly ran over to the windows and pulled the
blinds down. With his back pressed firmly against the wall he used his pinky
finger to ever so gently create a looking hole. He glanced up and down the street.
I lost him.
His breathing was fast
and heavy. His mind was racing a mile a minute. Beads of sweat were rolling
down the side of his face. He slowly slid down the wall and sat on of the floor
with his head tilted back and eyes closed.
“That was too
close,” he whispered.
Thomas looked around the
room. It looked different from the last time he’d used this hideaway. New paint
and new furniture, and what’s this, throw pillows? Charlie, his controller, was
becoming quite the decorator.
He suddenly snapped to
attention. His body stiffened and his eyes grew wide as if he’d just heard a
balloon pop. He frantically started to pat his body feeling each pocket.
Where is it? Where is it?
Thomas expelled a sigh
of relief when he remembered his socks. He kicked off his shoes and carefully
removed his left sock. There it was. A bit stinky but still good.
He needed to find the
decoder. His eyes darted across the room scanning everything, the bed, the
dresser, the desk, the kitchenette, the closet and the three wall mounted
paintings.
Where is it, Charlie? Talk to me?
Thomas remembered Charlie’s
riddle: “Inside out and upside down,
split a snow man in half and your answer will be found.”
He quickly went to the
desk. Grabbing a marker and a piece of paper, Thomas drew his best Frosty the Snowman,
hat and all. He turned the paper upside down and the snowman was still the
same. There was no change in Frosty when he flipped the paper around where the
marker had bled through.
What the heck does your riddle mean, Charlie?
He sat back and stared
at the snowman. It looked a lot like the number 8, he thought. Thomas began to
search the room for something that resembled an eight – there were only six
dresser drawers, four cups in the kitchen and two throw pillows. The paintings
didn’t have anything either.
Ah geez!
He started again, this
time with the number 8. He wrote the number eight on a new piece of paper and
then drew a vertical line through the center of it. Thomas found the answer. It
was 3.
He made a beeline for
the dresser. Thomas yanked open the third drawer and tossed out all the clothes
filling the air like confetti at the end of the Super Bowl.
Nothing. The
drawer was empty.
He pulled the drawer out
and flipped it over. There was the decoder securely taped to the underside of
the drawer. Thomas smiled. Good ole’ Charlie.
He was consciously aware
of his heart rate increasing. It wasn’t because the microchip would reveal the
answer to finding Ginger, but because he knew in order to rescue Ginger, he
would have to come to face to face with his nemesis, Mr. K.
Thomas placed the
microchip in the decoder and shone the image against the back wall. It was the
blue print of a warehouse located at the edge of town. He studied the
entrances, the venting system and then his eyes locked in on a specific room in
the center of the building.
That’s where she is.
He remembered the first
time he’d met Ginger at the academy. Ginger stood a foot above everyone else. She
was so tall her legs seemed to go up to her armpits. Despite her being long and
lanky, Ginger was quite graceful when she moved. You couldn’t help notice but her.
Ginger was a legend at
the ISA Academy. She could out run anyone, short and long distances. To this
day, she held every record for running at the academy.
Everyone always enjoyed
when a new batch of recruits arrived, because inevitably there would be one cocky
kid who would challenge her to a race. No matter how many times they were told,
they believed they were different from the other losers.
Everyone would gather
around, even the instructors, to watch the humiliation ensue. It seemed each
race was the same. The young recruit and his cronies taunting Ginger with
verbal attacks and mockery. And Ginger not saying a word while she got limber
by stretching her spaghetti-like legs.
Race time.
They lined up. BANG!
They were off. It was always one of the most graceful displays of running. Ginger
would cross the finished line on average 4.82 seconds ahead of her challenger.
It was awesome.
The poor challenger
thought the embarrassment was over when he got annihilated in the race but the
best was still to come. As they would sheepishly make their way over to Ginger
to congratulate her on the victory and apologize for their earlier rude
remarks, Ginger would smile and give the kid a wink.
“No problem”, she would
say. “Up top”.
Ginger would raise her
arm above her head signaling for a high five. They would jump and swat at her
hand looking like toddlers trying to strike a piñata. She was that tall.
Thud!
Thomas was jolted back
to reality. He ran to the window and cautiously peered out to the street. He
could see a banana-coloured 1968 Stingray Corvette parked outside and Mr. K was
running into the building.
Thomas always found it
comical that such an ape of man drove such a small car. His smile quickly faded
away when he heard the pounding feet of Mr. K coming down the hallway.
The door flew open and
there he stood. A beast of a man. Big and ugly. He had thick black hair
everywhere. It covered his arms. It was escaping over his shirt from his chest. It even seemed his eyebrows connected to his
hairline. He was one giant hairball.
“We meet
again,” said Thomas.
Mr. K
grunted.
“The way I see it, we
have two options,” Thomas said. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way”.
Letting out a huge roar,
Mr. K charged. The impact threw Thomas back four feet and he landed hard on the
floor. He shook the cobwebs out of his head and got back to his feet.
“You never
make things easy, Mr. K. The hard way it is.”
Thomas launched himself
like a torpedo towards the hairy beast, sending them both to the ground in
thunderous heap. A melee of punches followed as they rolled from one end of the
room to the other. Mr. K jumped up, pulling Thomas with him. Before Thomas knew
it, he found himself being hurtled through the air like a toilet bowl being
tossed into a dumpster on one of those home renovation shows.
He landed with a
whimper. Mr. K stomped towards Thomas, intending to finish him off for once and
for all. Thomas slew-footed the big animal bringing him down like a giant redwood.
Boom! The ground shook.
Thomas jumped
on Mr. K’s back and put him in a chokehold.
“Toooommmmmy.
Where arrrrrrre you?”
The door opened and Mrs.
MacDonald scanned Tommy’s bedroom. Blinds closed. Missing dresser drawer. Clothes
everywhere. Sally’s giraffe, Ginger, stuffed in a large cardboard box. And
Tommy had Koko the gorilla in his famous chokehold.
“Did Mr. K
capture Ginger again?” she asked.
“He did! And
he was just about to take me to her. Isn’t that right, Mr. K?”
Tommy’s mom
smiled with pride at her son’s imagination.
“Maybe he can take you
there later, Agent Thomas, because right now it’s lunchtime.”
“Grilled
cheese and pea soup?” Tommy asked.
She smiled
and nodded.
Yippee!
At the doorway Tommy
turned, glaring with Client Eastwood eyes. “Until we meet again, Mr. K.”
Sean
Hubbard left the corporate
world after 14 years to start his own business as a Leadership Coach. He is
passionate about people realizing their full potential and he has discovered
there are common themes that hold everyone back. His goal is to take these
relatable experiences and write stories that inspire people to overcome their
specific barrier. He believes with all the cast of characters he has met
and the varying business predicaments he found himself in, there is a business
fable somewhere inside him. Sean wound up in Brian’s class because he was
inspired by his creative kids, Sam and Sarah, and encouraged by his partner
Donna.
See Brian Henry’s schedule here, including writing workshops, writing retreats, and creative writing courses in Algonquin Park, Alton, Barrie, Bracebridge, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Guelph, Hamilton, Ingersoll, Kingston, Kitchener, London, Midland, Mississauga, Newmarket, Orillia, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, St. John, NB, Sudbury, Thessalon, Toronto, Windsor, Halton, Ingersoll, Kitchener-Waterloo, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.
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