The person I admire most in my life is my mother. Not only did she give birth to me, she’s the glue that holds our family together. She guided us through the bad times and healed us through the worst of times. She’s such a strong and courageous woman. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without the inspiration from my mother.
My mother loves animals as much as I do, and we actually adopted a cat from an animal shelter together. We had to keep the cat at her place on account of my ex-wife’s allergies, but I would visit Smiley every chance I got. We decided on the name when we saw how happy the cat looked when we took him out of his cage. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the cat cried from joy. When my ex-wife left six months ago, Smiley moved in with me. In the beginning, I had a hard time just locating him, because my house is so big, but then I started to tap the jar with a spoon, and he would come running to the kitchen to eat. We have a lot of fun together, Smiley and I.
“Mr. Townsend… Excuse me, Mr. Townsend?”
He turned his attention to the female employee behind the check-in counter.
“I’m afraid your bag exceeds the weight limit. There will be an additional cost of fifty dollars. Would you like me to charge the same credit card you purchased the ticket with?”
“Whatever.” He shrugged.
“Your gate is nine C and we start boarding at nine o’clock. Please don’t be late. I hope you have a pleasant flight, sir.”
The thought of Matt Damon reminded Mr. Townsend of how much he resented his own mother. His mother was the most pathetic person he’d ever met. She completely lacked self-knowledge, and she’d blame every misfortune in her life on somebody else, and especially on men. When he was growing up, his mother constantly reminded him of what a bad person his father was, and how much he reminded her of his father. At every opportunity, she would speak maliciously of both of them, ridiculing and laughing at him every chance she got. Mr. Townsend never met his father. Growing up, his mother was his only role model, and he swore he’d become nothing like her—and he wasn’t. Instead, he had become the complete opposite of his mother.
The thought of his mother made him feel small and inadequate. His posture gradually decreased as he made his way to the security checkpoint. He noticed the fat man standing in line. Even if the man was several places in front of him in line, he could still smell the man’s sweat.
“Do you smell that?” he asked the young man standing behind him.
The young man smiled his way, and shrugged his nose.
“This is an emergency! Does anyone have soap?” he yelled.
The young man burst into laughter and gave him a look of admiration. Mr. Townsend straightened his back slightly. As the fat man was about to pass through the metal detector, he came up with another witty remark.
“I hope he doesn’t get stuck in there, and ruin it for the rest of us,” he said loudly.
The young man laughed and rewarded him with another look of admiration.
Mr. Townsend straightened his back even more.
Seeing the other passengers removing their belongings reminded him of his wedding ring. Mr. Townsend took the ring off his neck chain, and placed the ring in his pants pocket. He’d told his wife that he could lose his finger if he forgot to take the ring off at work. She was reluctant at first, but he convinced her when he’d told her he preferred to wear the ring on the chain around his neck because that way she would be closer to his heart. The truth was he didn’t want the ring to leave an imprint on his finger. He hated his wedding ring almost as much as he hated being alone.
The café was overcrowded and just to his liking. He smelled the fresh apple pie and coffee he held as he took in the scenery of the playing field. He noticed the man occupying a large table by himself, and a woman in the background, sitting alone at a smaller table.
He stood between the two tables, turned his eyes back and forth, waiting patiently for the woman to notice him.
“Do you mind?” he eventually asked.
The woman looked across the café. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Thanks,” he said. “That guy over there is almost finished, but I hate to take up an entire table when a group of people is waiting by the counter.”
As he sat down, he noticed the woman smiling when she glanced toward the counter.
His eyes were now focused on the apple pie, but in his peripheral vision, he detected the woman glancing at him. Yet as soon as he raised his eyes, she lowered hers.
“Oh my, this apple pie is amazing,” he said.
“It looks good.”
“You want a piece? I got plenty for both of us.”
“No, I couldn’t do that.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll get you a plate,” he said, and quickly got up and left the table before she could say anything else.
When he returned to the table, he cut the slice of apple pie in half.
“No. I’ll just have a small piece,” the woman said.
“Trust me, it’s delicious. The crust is so crispy, they must have brushed it with egg whites.”
She eventually and hesitantly took a slice of apple pie.
“It’s delicious,” she said after having a taste. “Sounds like you know your way around a kitchen.”
“Oh yeah, I love cooking. I used to cook with my mother as a child. She taught me. I owe so much to her. I used to cook for two people, but I got divorced this year. You know, it’s actually hard to cook for just one person. I hate to throw away food, and Smiley—that’s my cat, by the way—he can only eat so much. Actually, he starts a diet next week, cause he’s getting kind of chubby,” he said, making the woman laugh.
The woman suddenly extended her arm across the table. “I’m Rebecca Walters.”
He felt surprised by the sudden gesture. He was used to introducing himself first. He felt as he’d suddenly lost his script, and for a second he wasn’t sure what to say.
“Rebecca… That’s a lovely name.”
“Thank you.” Rebecca Walters blushed and a curious expression crossed her face. “So, what might your name be?”
“My name is Matt Damon,” he lied. “No, I’m not the famous actor.”
Rebecca Walters was a thirty-four-year-old single parent with two sons. Neither of the fathers had any contact with their children. She lived in a middle-range suburb in Seattle, and in order to pay the mortgage on her house, she had to juggle two different jobs. Her cat’s name was apparently Simba, and needless to say, her favorite movie was The Lion King. Rebecca didn’t enjoy cooking at all. She thought cooking was just a necessary chore in life. She did, however, enjoy long walks, weekend getaways, concerts, dancing, listening to a specific type of music, and … some other nonsense.
Mr. Townsend made sure to give Rebecca Walters “Matt Damon’s” business card before he excused himself. Then he left the restaurant with a straight back and a feeling of accomplishment.
Seeing the heavily armed guards reminded him of one of his greatest accomplishments in life. The shoot was easy. The hard part was to track down the prey. All those days of traveling in exchange for one second of joy, but in the end, it was all worth it. Before he pulled the trigger, he gazed into the eyes of his prey. The strong recoil didn’t prevent him from admiring the view as the legs collapsed beneath the animal.
Seeing how the legs collapsed always fascinated him. In the same second that the bullet entered the prey, it looked as though the legs suddenly disappeared. He thought it was one of the greatest feelings’ life had to offer. Hitting the target was easy. The head was about the size of an opened newspaper. And it didn’t matter if the bullet shattered the skull since they had to burn the carcass anyway. He only kept a single claw, but he felt it was enough to remind him of his greatness.