Death by Facebook (9 page)

It
was him! He didn't seem to recognize her. Probably, she chided
herself, because she appeared to be an old homeless woman hanging out
in front of the bookstore. Turning back to the door he went in last
and the sidewalk was bare. Bare and cold.

Agatha's
heart was racing with all the emotions and fears of any seventeen
year old girl on a first date, a first date some thirty five years
later. Her nervousness was overwhelming but her loneliness had
driven her to go out, and now to go in the front door of Burr's.

Standing
there for just a moment, she recognized the feeling again, just as
she had when first diving in online at Facebook. The entire world
was there, watching. Watching and waiting for her to say something
clever or funny or stupid.

She
scanned the crowd and found the large group that had just come in and
suddenly there he was, standing up and waving at her, a big grin on
that handsome face she had kissed so very, very long ago.

Forcing
her hands apart, she took one last good luck spin of her wedding
ring, now decorating her right hand, reminding her there was always
hope for another grand adventure as great as the first.

~~~

Janet
couldn't finish her beer fast enough. This had been a bad idea,
coming out in public, albeit a public of a dozen or so hermits in a
rainforest. That good looking French Canadian was lurking around
again and must have been the one who had sent over a free beer.

“
Thanks,
of course, but I have to go,” she murmured to herself as she
stood to go. This was no time to explain her change to anyone.

A
$20 bill stuck nicely to the table with all the beer condensation and
she made her way for the rear door. She glanced over at the table
where they wore head lamps. “What the hell is that all about?”
she wondered. Too much time in the woods no doubt. And that meant
too much stored up … well too much of that attention hormone.

Dave
almost ran into her exiting the hallway, but stopped short. He
watched Janet closely, and tried to look at her hands, but they were
tucked deeply into her black jacket pockets. As she passed he caught
the eyes of his buddies, waving madly at him and pointing to her. He
practically ran back to the table, but remembered it foolish to run
with scissors or in bars.

“
That
was her!” he said in a loud whisper sitting back down.

“
No
way dude, that was a dude,” Everett said, between sips of his
fourth Lava Lager.

Pat
reached over and grabbed Dave's neck. “Looks OK I guess,”
laughing he added. “Any other injuries we are not interested
in seeing.”

“
Guys,
that was her. I don't know what the deal is with her hair and
clothes,” Dave excitedly reported. “But her hands, they
were cut up just like last time.”

“
No
shit, were they bleeding still?” Tim didn't quite believe
Dave, especially having watched him keep up with Everett on the Lava
Lagers.

Dave
sat back, folded his arms and waited for the friendly insults to
stop. “No, they were scarred.” He leaned forward,
looked over to the door to make sure she was gone now and added, “I
gotta tell you guys, if we don't get outta here soon,” he
looked over at the bar stools. “We just might get a little bit
crazy too.”

Pat
stood up to begin the march to the bathrooms himself, but stopped
behind Everett. “Dave, in case you didn't notice...” he
touched the head lamp on Everett's head. “We're already there,
buddy.”

~~~

Cabin
#94 was cold inside. For some reason the maid always turned down the
heat on her way out the door. But, she never failed to pick up the
beer cans. God bless her.

Janet
was shaking so much she could barely get her key in the door lock, as
the cold mist of the cloud insisted on finding each and every
vulnerability in her clothing. Her head was freezing! It had never
been so exposed, it was like her neck had ice cubes parked all over
her skin.

Finally
the door relented and let her in. She flipped on as many lights as
she could, thinking it might warm the place up, if only with some
reassurance. It wasn't immediately working. She moved to find the
heaters, and after some time located them along the base boards.

Bending
down to turn them on finally brought on the sickness she had been
fighting now for weeks.

Rushing
to the bathroom she barely made it before vomiting yet again. She
thought she had not done this so much since she had that bout with
bulimia back in high school. Perversely enough, as she continued
throwing up she remembered what an old girlfriend had told her. Get
rid of that much beer and you are ready for some more.

Two
minutes later she had two beers and two laptops open. Then my cell
phone rang.

~~~

Sergeant
Joyce Johannson listened to the ring of Private First Class James
Madison Turner's cell phone even as sweat still streaked down the
side of her face and onto her phone. Grabbing her towel, she wiped
her face and the phone and then listened as it went to voice mail.

“
Jimmy
here, and you're not. Leave a message.”

She
was in no mood for jokes, even as she noted his clever outgoing
message. “Private First Class Turner. This is Sergeant
Johannson. You got less than 48 hours to report to Ft. Bragg. You
missed your call in last week and again this morning. Don't make me
come out there and drag your ass to Leavenworth.” She paused a
moment and changed her voice from hard-ass to a bit more friendly.
“Hope you had a good time in Hawaii. By the way, what's up
with that Facebook post about being dead?” She paused again,
and then went back to hard-ass, “You're a good soldier. Be
there!”

~~~

Janet
was full of confusion. Watching my phone ring then go to voice mail
had made her cringe even further. It had to be related to the
telegram she still had in her jacket pocket. She, for the first time
in weeks, was too nervous to drink.

The
cabin phone rang this time, nearly giving her the heart attack she
was already working up to. Immediately she picked it up. The ring
itself was worse than whatever conversation might occur.

“
Hell...hello?”

“
Hi,
this is Amy at the Front Desk. Can I speak with Private Turner
please?”

Janet
paused a moment, then consciously tried to deepen her voice a little.
“This is Turner.”

“
Great,
we see you're due to check out in the morning. I wanted to let you
know you can extend if you like.” The Front Desk clerk sounded
friendly despite such a mandatory call.

Janet
thought about that. She really had no other plans, and honestly had
not even considered her next move beyond Volcano. “Sure,”
she almost let her voice rise back up an octave. “What do you
need?

The
Front Desk clerk was easy. “Just come by and sign the credit
card slip. How many days would you like to add?”

“
Lets
make it a week,” Janet said. That should give her time to
figure out a better plan than the non-existent one she had now.

“
Great,
sir. Come over now if you would, I'll have the paperwork waiting for
you.”

Janet
hung up without any further formalities. She walked back into the
bedroom, rummaged around for my wallet, checked for the credit card
and then ducked quickly into the bathroom.

I
followed her closely now. The static in her mind was suddenly clear
and that caught my attention. What could have swept the noise away?

Looking
closely in the mirror, she adjusted her jacket and her hat. With
sunglasses she could easily pull it off, but it was still a cloud
forest outside. Fishing around my shaving kit she found my glasses
with their tiny correction for far-sightedness. Putting those on
seemed to complete the look she wanted.

Spinning
around quickly she marched out the door to the Front Desk. Moments
later she had signed my name on the credit card slip and the
reservation for Cabin #94.

“
OK,
that’s got you extended until December 20
^th
,”
the teenage Front Desk clerk said. She looked up at Janet and
smiled. “So, whatya doing for Christmas?”

Janet,
afraid to look anyone in the eye dropped her head a bit. “I
believe I have a lovely tent awaiting me in Afghanistan.”

The
Front Desk clerk's face faded. “Oh, sorry about that, sir.
Good luck, sir.”

Janet
turned to leave, walked several steps toward the large double doors
and then turned back to the clerk. “What are you doing?”

The
clerk stared a moment.

“
For
Christmas,” Janet said. “What are you doing?”

“
Oh!
Thanks.” The clerk was beaming now. “I'm going to
Maui, gonna hit those beaches.”

Janet
nodded and turned back to the door. She went down the steps and back
into the gloom of the cloud, still thick and drizzling.

By
the time Janet got to Cabin #94 she was freezing. Her hands were
shaking a little as she pushed the reluctant door open. The heat was
still on as she stripped off her jacket and sat back down to her
laptop.

Opening
a web browser she found Google and typed in
Maui
beach condos.
Several results came back up, mostly in someplace called Kihei. She
clicked on one that looked nice and had an online reservation system.
Their first open day was December 18. Two minutes later, Jimmy
Turner had a studio rented all the way until January 9
^th
.

Janet
sat back in the light of the two open laptops and smiled. Maui sure
sounded nice, and warm. Now all she needed was a plane ticket.
Hawaiianair.com made it easy. They had a direct flight between Hilo
and Kahului, which she learned was on Maui, that left pretty early in
the morning of the 18
^th
.
Jimmy Turner had a seat by the window.

She
pulled out my military ID and looked at it closely, then walked into
the bathroom to look into the mirror. She grinned and said out loud,
“I guess I do look a lot like my brother.”

Heading
back over to the small refrigerator she pulled out two beers. Pop.
Pop. As she quickly drained the first one, she smiled at her new
plan.

Sitting
back down at the table, she pulled my laptop over to her and opened
Facebook.