EIGHT
His alarm sang with an artificial bell ringing in his ear. With practised ease, he hit the off button without opening his eyes. Both clocks blinked the time at 07.30. Ed’s first appointment wasn’t until 10.00 but he didn’t like lying in bed idle, and he also wanted to pop into the library before then if it was open, to do some more investigating and of course it wouldn’t hurt his eyes at all to see Linda Saxon again so soon. His routine was the same every day, whether he was working or not. He rolled out of bed and knelt on the floor then lay in the press up position. Ed had been practising the ancient Korean martial art of Tae Kwon Do for more than two decades and had reached the level of 5th-degree black-belt. Although there were many a lot higher than him in the worldwide organisation, he was one of the long term members and was a well-respected disciple. Because of his frequent travelling, it was hard to find time to study and practise but he always made time every morning for the stretches followed by sets of push-ups and sit-ups. He lay with his stomach flat on the cheap carpet then curled his body upward, putting his hands behind his back. He then went through a set of stretches, holding each position for about 30 seconds, finishing in a sitting position with his legs spread out sideways. Although he carried a few extra pounds around his middle, this belied his fitness and flexibility. He then did as many press-ups as he could then four sets of 75 sit-ups. He still hadn’t broken into a sweat so he stood up, still just in his boxers, turned and took up a fighting stance, his body facing sideways to the door of the room. Seventy-five per cent of his body weight was held on his right foot which was to the rear. He then flicked his left foot up and out into a front kick. He repeated this twenty times, getting progressively higher with each kick, then swapped legs. Going back to the first position he then did twenty side kicks on each leg then twenty back kicks. Space was limited so he ended his session there. The first beads of sweat had started to trickle from his forehead but it had helped him clear and calm his mind, almost like meditation, doing actions he had done thousands of times before without having to think about it. Ed padded to the shower, kicked off his underwear, turned the shower on and stepped in before it had time to warm up. He undid the small soap bar and scrubbed yesterday’s dust and dirt from his body and hair in the increasingly hot spray. Once clean, he turned the faucet to cold and stood for a long minute before turning it off and stepping out. He grabbed one of the motel’s folded towels and wrapped it around his waist and another to dry his hair, then padded back to the main room. The print out of the newspaper report was on the floor by the bed. He picked it up, folded it neatly in half then put it in the draw of the bedside cabinet on top of the only other item in the draw, a Gideon’s Bible. He stared into the eyes of Gracie’s photo for a long moment, and then quickly closed the drawer. Still wrapped in his towel, Ed walked to the front of the room and pulled the heavy curtains back a little to let in some of the new day. The sunshine poured in, it was going to be another scorcher.
Breakfast was coffee and pancakes in a diner he had found just a few minutes from the motel. It was a place that although he hadn’t seen in his dream visit to the town, he doubted that this place had changed very much from that era. From the outside it looked like a railway car. Inside, the tall chrome and red leather bar stools ran along the counter on one side of the diner and booths that could seat six took up the other half of the business. Polished aluminium engulfed the wall behind the counter with small mirrors along the bottom to give the illusion of a wider building. The pungent aroma of bacon and maple syrup made Ed’s stomach rumble as he slid into a booth near the back that looked out onto the main street. The elderly waitress already looked tired and harassed but still had time for a smile and some small talk while she took his order. She wore a light green check uniform and a name tag with Betty printed on it pinned near the lapel. Her reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck. Even though the diner was relatively busy with the morning rush, the coffee arrived almost immediately, hot, strong and fresh. Ed added cream to the black brew from a separate jug and sugar from the glass dispenser. By the time he had finished stirring the sugar Betty was back with a stack of six pancakes and a selection of syrups.
“Wow, Betty, you’re fast on your feet! Thank you”.
“You’re welcome” she replied, “Enjoy”.
She was off again, seeing to her other customers, refilling empty coffee mugs as she went. Ed looked at the pancakes, then at the syrup jar labelled Maple then back at the pancakes. When it came to sweet things, he had no willpower at all. He tried to show restraint, on occasions, but usually, his stomach overruled his head. The Army had taught him that you eat when you can as you never knew when your next meal was going to be, so to hell with the calories! And he hadn’t eaten a proper meal since yesterday morning. He picked up the jar and poured a liberal amount of Maple syrup over the tower of food until the bottom pancake was completely submerged. They tasted good, so good that when he had finished demolishing the stack of food he was tempted to get a few more, but he satisfied himself with a free refill of coffee from Betty as he stared out of the window onto the street. Traffic was a little heavier but still not what you could call rush hour. A constant flow of pick-ups, old sedans and the occasional yellow school bus rumbled passed as he watched life drive by. The flow of vehicles became more sporadic as people got to where they were going. The diner was now nearly empty. He had worked out already what he owed so he left some notes sticking out from under his mug along with a generous tip. He gave Betty a wave as he headed for the door and out to his Mercury. Already the temperature was up into the high 80’s and his dash clock said it was only just 9.10am. He backed out of the diagonal parking slot and headed for the library.
Most of the parking slots in the main square were still vacant so Ed had no problem parking right outside the Library, just behind a beat-up old Nissan salon that was suffering from a major attack of corrosion on pretty much every fender and panel. Was rust contagious? Well, he’d be trading in his trusty old Merc for a new car soon enough anyhow. He still didn’t really know what to tell the librarian about why he wanted to know about the missing girl. In the cold light of day, the story he had spun for the Sheriff sounded even more ludicrous than it did last night, but the truth would be simply unbelievable, and for some reason, Ed didn’t want Linda to think he was a crackpot. He also didn’t want to lie to her either. Oh well, here goes nothing! He started to walk towards the large library doors just as a newspaper delivery boy came zooming up the sidewalk towards him on his bicycle from the now open newspaper office across the way. Ed jumped forward into the recess of the library doors, to avoid getting hit by the enthusiastic young teenager. The bike’s wheels had playing cards stuck to the spokes to make a clickety-clacking sound. No sooner had the boy appeared than he was gone again, turning the corner onto the main street, but Ed could still hear the noise from the spokedokes. A realisation hit Ed just before the pain in his head arrived. It was the noises that were setting off the episodes in his head, but he had no more time to think on the cause as the pain took hold. He reached for his head with both hands and lent against the solid doors of the library for support. The pain was unbearable, joined by what sounded like a swarm of locusts taking to the air. Then… nothing.