**Hey folks this is a reprint of part 3 of The Man With the Hazy Suit that origonally ran on May22, 2010. I have been few and far between regular posts this summer, and that is the same thing that has killed some of my favorite TV shows, like Alias. So I am going to rerun the whole story and finish it strong! Thanks for reading for the first time or rereading if you have been here before. The Choose your own adventure aspect is not available anymore.**
Hello! Welcome to another exciting edition of Fiction Saturday. I hope you had a good week and are ready for more mystery and intrigue.
I do have to say, I am a little disappointed in the results of the choose the story poll from last week. As a result of that poll, I am going to do what the readers have voted on and continue the story from Aaron’s notebooks.
I am still working on the next fork but it may be the last one. I will see how it goes. Fiction Saturday will endure though!
So after that long introduction, here is Fiction Saturday 3, The Man With the Hazy Suit Part 3!
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Catch up here!
Part 1
Part 2
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When we left our story last time:
“Ok.” Said the older one again. “We just have to ask, you understand. We know he was pretty rough on you. Do you know anyone else who may have wanted him dead?” “Take your pick” I said. “He beat everyone I knew in that house.” They thanked me and started off. Each of them produced a business card at the door. “If you think of anything else that may help, please call.” The younger man said with a smile. I took the cards. “Thank you.” I said lamely as I held the door for them and they exited.
“Damn” I thought. How many times did I wish that son of a bitch dead. I didn’t have the nerve for it of course. I went back to the kitchen and looked at the cards. Sergeant Stebbins and Patrolman Tompson. Hmm. I threw the cards on the counter and went back to the radio.
And now we join our story already in progress:
I sat the legal pad down and reached for my cooling coffee. I could remember that day. How ironic was it that I was the junior detective that day and now I am trying to make heads or tails of what is going on. Was there anything that I could have done differently that may have made a difference in this guy’s life? Maybe not. I picked the pad back up and read some more.
“All of the next day I thought about Mr. Chan. I really was not upset that he was dead. I didn’t have anything to do with it so why were the cops there? I knew it was just their job and I was a lead. Glad it didn’t lead to anything more.
I had to get to work. I showered and dressed quickly not wanting to be late again. I made it just in time, but I wasn’t a very good employee that day. That entire shift I had flashes of Mr. Chan screaming. And burning. Oh the burning. I couldn’t figure it out, so I just went back to work.
Later that night I made it home around 12:45 and fell into my bed fully clothed. I was exhausted. I had eaten at the Taco Barn and was now fighting indigestion as well as exhaustion. I gave up altogether and slept. I fell asleep before I even remembered to turn off the light in the entryway.
That night I had a nightmare. I dreamed that, well, things were not quite right with the world. I was following a man down the street. I never saw his face but he reminded me of, me. One of the most interesting things about him was his suit. It looked like a dark business suit but it had a…hazy look to it, like there was a nimbus around the man.
The man in the hazy suit walked down the street with the red plastic gas can in his hand. For some reason he slowed and then stopped next to a small blue sedan. There was something wrong with this car. He stood there for a long minute.
In that moment he was perfectly still. He just waited like a statue in the park. The day faded to twilight and still the man stood. Eventually he was approached by 2 women he did not seem to recognize. They must have been students at the University by the books in their hands, even if their hair color spoke of costume parties.
The man in the hazy suit didn’t pay any attention to the students. He continued to stare at the air above the car, trying to catch…something that was there but not quite available.
The students were asking if he was ok when the man spun in a flash catching the first student in the head with a hammer. The student went down in a heap. The second turned to run but the man in the hazy suit was faster. He hit her as well and she went down. I screamed and screamed but it did as much good as yelling at the television.
The man then sat down his gas can and dragged the girls underneath the car. He didn’t struggle with them. He didn’t change expressions. He just did his work. I could almost feel joy and excitement coming from him. He picked up his gas can and opened the spout. I could feel exhilaration as he poured gas over the car and under it. He placed the empty can on top of the car, stepped back and pulled matches from his pocket. I could feel an almost sexual joy as he tossed the match onto the car.
The car burst into flames. The man in the hazy suit stood and watched for a few moments before turning and walking calmly towards the University.
I woke up in a cold sweat. That had seemed way too real. I had only a few minutes before the alarm was to go off anyway so I got up and washed my face. I stared at myself in the mirror. “What a dream” I thought. I headed into my bedroom and went to take off my Taco Barn uniform. I wasn’t wearing it anymore. I also realized that the hallway light was off. When had I done that?
It didn’t matter. I got ready for work at the Bagel Hut. I flipped on the radio as I dressed. After some chatter and worn out banter by the DJ’s they began to read news. I had just picked up my Taco Barn uniform and I stopped at what I heard. “…girls under the car and then the car set on fire. No details have come out yet but it looks like murder. I’m surprised no one saw this happen” I did. It may have been a dream but I saw it happen. What could I do about it though?
Nothing I decided, just a strange coincidence. Maybe I was psychic like on some of those TV shows. Maybe I could be that detective who saw things before they happened and could fix them. Maybe I was just losing my mind. I held a strong possibility for the latter because I had convinced myself that I could smell gas on my Taco Barn uniform as I dropped it into the hamper. Foolishness.
I went to work still pondering the dream.
That’s all today!
Join us next week for more from The man With the Hazy Suit!
