The Book Keeper (23 page)

The warm smile of
Max settled upon me.  I knew that I could trust this man. His loyalty to me had grown during our time spent together in the taxi.  I may need him one day – perhaps even in a matter of life or death. He delivered me faithfully to my residence.

The familiar view of the wooden dining table beaconed to me as I entered my apartment under the eyes of surveillance cameras.  There the bloody glasses sat beside the bloody book.  I ran my fingers over the smooth timber towards the glasses, tapped my index finger twice and then picked up the MRI accessory.

With apprehension, I placed the glasses onto my face, unsure of what to expect once they were in place. I was disappointed and relieved to find that they changed nothing in my field of vision, or my mind.  I walked around the apartment talking myself into feeling normal whilst wearing them.

On a whim, I removed the glasses, placed them in my pocket and left the apartment in haste, and headed to the O
oooh Laaa La café.

The bell jingled announcing my entrance, and then I sat at the counter for a light drink before being shown to a table.  The café was crowded. Of that I was glad.

Once I was seated, I pulled the glasses from my pocket and put them on.

Nothing.

I heard nothing.

But what had I expected? 

A jumble of voices invading the peace and quiet of my mind, straining above each other to be heard?

I looked down at the counter disappointed.

‘Sir, what would you like to drink,’ a sweet voice asked.  I looked up at her, directly into her eyes.

And it started.

Mmmm…very nice, beautiful face……I wonder if he is taken?.....i could look at you all night…….

I narrowed my eyes at her.

‘Juice, orange juice please,’ I answered, amused by what I had heard.  She raised her eyebrows at me,

Odd….he is ordering juice?.....I was sure that he would go for a beer…..

Then the communication broke off as she turned to grab the drink.  I chuckled to myself. 
Oh good doctor, it works, clearly, remarkably, miraculously.

As the time passed away in the cafe, and I played with my new toy, I discovered that the mind reading implant only worked with eye to eye contact.  And I had to focus my concentration acutely to engage in the mind reading at first, and then it seemed to continue like second nature.

The mind reading ability kept me captive, surprised and even shocked by the thoughts that were created in the minds of people.  Some thoughts were chaotic, some carefully planned, some thoughts were carried through, many were not, some even sang in their minds as they went about their conversations.

After two and a half hours I removed the glasses.  I squeezed my eyes shut, exhausted from my own mind being overloaded with excessive noise from
the  minds of others. 

I left O
oooh Laaa La Café, and wandered along the street enjoying the cool wind against my skin until I entered the club to meet Mia.  I was in two minds about wearing the glasses with her.  I decided against it.

Again she sat in a darkened booth as the back of the bar.  Two burly men were with her.  Her red hair was hard to miss.  She gave me the nod to join her, and then greeted me with a kiss on either side of the face like we were old friends.

‘Cohen, you are looking well,’ she said, her low voice in stark contrast to her squeaky bubbly persona of the sterile white office.  I smiled at her.

‘I am well thank-you Mia,’ I replied.  Maybe I should put the glasses on, as a test of her integrity.
  I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed the skin between my eyebrows, as if I was straining my eyesight. Then I reached into my pocket and put my glasses on.

‘My eyes are still causing havoc with me since the operation Mia.  Oh, I can see you better now.  You are no longer a blur,’ I lied, smiling at her.  She smiled back, her eyes wondering over the ugly frames.  How much would she know, and was she updated with my progress from the good doctor?

‘Why do you look at the glasses like that?’ I asked, a very normal conversation.

‘Are they the glasses your eye specialist gave you?’ Mia inquired, narrowing her eyes at me.  I had direct eye to eye contact with her, but her mind was silent.

‘Yes, he is aware of my trouble focusing and so gave me these to help,’ I answered.  She raised her eyebrows at me.

‘Really?  And he did not tell you what these glasses had the potential to do?’

So she did know about the glasses, about the plan.  So she was keeping her mind void of thoughts for my sake.  She was very good at it.  Had she done it before?  Are there others like me?

‘No,’ I lied.  ‘The…….implant
…… is not functional yet. He is baffled by the outcome, but is still hopeful that it will kick in so to speak,’  I added.

Mia breathed in deeply, and looked into my eyes fully.

Never tell a living soul if it does work.  I hope that you hear me. Save yourself, because no one else can or will.   

She had pushed her thought to me with purpose.  I wanted to nod to her in confirmation of receiving her thought.  But she was a living soul, and hence a danger to me and herself.   She was protecting me – but from what, or whom?

‘Cohen, this is our final meeting.  There is nothing more that I can do for you.  You are released from our program of intelligence and protection. However, we will continue our surveillance of Mr Rubin.  Out of respect for you, if there is a problem heading your way, I will contact you.  Thank-you for meeting me here tonight,’ her words were said under duress.  She obviously had been given an order.  She held out her hand to shake mine.  I took her hand in mine, looking into her green eyes, searching for her thoughts.

Their choice, not mine. I am following orders.
Peace be yours.

‘Then I must thank-you and yours for watching over me when you did.  I am indebted to the program for that,’ I replied, then dropped her hand and left the club.

As my feet hit the hard pavement outside of the club, her words pierced me like a sword – no longer in their program of intelligence or protection.  So I still had trackers, but they were not on my side. 

I walk alone. One of a kind, being watched, a target,
the hunted.  They were waiting for their move, or my move, whichever came first.  I was caught in a perpetual game of chess. Except this was real. Check mate.

I returned to my apartment with a feeling of foreboding. Paranoia would have to become a weapon of choice if I were to survive.  I was bound by the chains of C
AI, imprisoned until they decided how to deal with me.  There was only one way to win.

Play the game.  Play it better.

I took my Tim Jennings to bed with me.  I wanted to email Georgia to see if she was okay after I walked out on her.  It seemed like a life time ago. But it was still foremost in my mind.

FROM: Tim Jennings

SUBJECT:
Stormy Night

DATE: December 7 201
1  23:00

TO: Georgia Harrison

Dear Georgia,

I need to know that you are okay.   You stir my soul like no other.

Tim   #doyouknowhowharditwastowalkawayfromyou?

Send ……

FROM: Georgia Harrison

SUBJECT: Soul Food

DATE: December 7 201
1   23:05

TO: Tim Jennings

Dear Tim,

It was my fault that you walked out on me.  You did warn me that you would.  I thought that you would never speak to me again, and I had lost you forever.

I hope that you are well.

Georgia #luckywomanwhohasthekeytoyourheartandwillbenefitfromtheexplosionofyourpassionfromtheheart,mindandphysical
bodyxx

FROM:  Tim Jennings

SUBJECT:  Connections

DATE: December 7 201
1   23:15

TO:  Georgia Harrison

To My Georgia,

How could I never speak to you again? We are connected through the book, remember.  I hope that you are well.

Tim #Iaminneedofyourtheraputicgingerbreadmen……please.

Send …

FROM:  Georgia Harrison

SUBJECT:  The Gingerbread Men

DATE: December 7 201
1   23:22

TO: Tim Jennings

Dear Tim,

The Gingerbread Men left me.  They said that I had treated you cruelly.  They share your apartment with you.  Perhaps you could return them to me.  I miss them badly.

Georgia   #emptynestsyndrome

FROM: Tim Jennings

SUBJECT: The Boys

DATE: December 7 2011   23:26

TO: Georgia Harrison

Dear Georgia,

The Gingerbread Men much prefer looking at you than me.  Can we meet at the place where fate brought us together?

Tim   #dinglybellsteafortwoandgingerbreadmenimissyou

Send ….

FROM: Georgia Harrison

SUBJECT:  Ooooh Laaa La!

DATE: December 7 201
1   23:30

TO: Tim Jennings

Dear Tim,

Tomorrow.  I can’t wait any longer to see my Gingerbread Men.

Georgia #don’ttellthemthatiambringingthefoxwithme

FROM: Tim Jennings

SUBJECT:  The Sky is Falling

DATE: December 7 2011   23:32

TO: Georgia Harrison

Dear Georgia,

Evening.  7:03pm.

Tim #don’tbringthefoxitwillscarethegingerbreadmenaway

Send …..

FROM:  Georgia Harrison

SUBJECT: Fox Taming

DATE: December 7 201
1   23:36

TO: Tim Jennings

Dear Tim,

The fox will be disappointed.  See you at 7:03pm.  My time.

Georgia  #gotmyrunningshoeswithspikesready

Bittersweet.  My hunger for the sweetness of Georgia would end in bitterness on her part.  But I had no choice. I feel asleep to the depressing reality that I would never find a soul mate to share my life with.   The Mind Reading Implant had seen to that.

Chapter  18

People carried on with their conversations, smiling, laughing and
touching each other as the door bell jingled the arrival of Georgia.  I stood inside the café near the back wall, and watched her as she made her way to the bar.  She wore a dark three quarter length coat, her wavy hair flowing around her shoulders framing her beautiful face.  I watched her as she read the sticky note I had attached to the bench.

‘The gingerbread men are waiting.  You are early Miss Harrison.’

She pulled the note from the top of the bar and turned around, her eyes scanning the café until she found me.  Then she broke into a smile that lit up the entire café.  My heart cart wheeled and then increased in speed, and I breathed in deeply to cope with the visual feast that I laid my eyes on.

I walked towards her, watching her the entire way.  If she was going to run, I would catch her, and hold her against me, breathing in her beauty and sweetness that attracted me like a bird to nectar, intoxicating me.

She walked toward me, and hugged me tightly.  Maybe it is me who will have to run away?

‘Cohen,’ she whispered into my ear, making my heart sing.  I stepped back a little from her, and handed the freshly baked gingerbread men to her.  She looked down at them and smiled before looking up at me, mouthing a thank-you, her lips drawing me close.  I needed to taste her.  But I dared not.

I grabbed her hand and led her to our table.  THE original table of our first meeting.

‘Tea for two Miss Harrison?’  I asked, my voice low. 
‘Yes,’ she mouthed, smiling and shaking her head from side to side.  I wondered what she was thinking.  I also wondered if it was appropriate to mind read the mind of someone who you were connected with.  There must be parameters or rules that go with the MRI. I think I knew the answer to my question.  It was a resounding no – you definitely do not read the minds of loved ones, family or friends .  But logically, Georgia and I could never be an ‘us’, and I would say my last good-bye to her tonight.  So hypothetically speaking, I could use the MRI with her. 

I lightly brushed my fingers over her hand as I went to order our tea for two.  When I returned, I sat down opposite her and put on the glasses.