Beth Ann's word: Power Part 2

Two Months Earlier

I was fairly certain I was being watched. I had no proof of course. Recently it had just been this vague sense that I wasn't the only one aware of my actions. That somehow my shadow had a shadow. Every day was the same and rarely deviated from its course. I took the ferry from Brooklyn into the city, calling Dispatch on the way, seeing what work they had for me. I was going on two years, working for RealTime Messenger Service. It started as a way to pay the bills. On a good day I could make two hundred dollars. I would never have guessed that flying through the city on a bicycle would prove addictive, but somehow it had. The sights and smells of the city, the feel of the bike swerving in and out of traffic, around corners, slicing through pedestrians. If reputation is anything in my job, I'd venture to say I had made one for myself. I always had work, and I was good at what I did. Bike messengers had an odd commordiary despite the competition between each other. Even gave each other nicknames. Eventually my name, Scott Daniels, had become "Scotty-D" on the street.

I leaned against the ferry window and looked out over the East River, cell phone pressed to my ear. As I waited on hold for dispatch to give me my instructions, I felt a queer feeling in the pit of my stomach and felt the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I ventured my best attempt at a casual sweep of the area around me. Mainly business men. Suits and briefcases holding coffee and newspapers. Families. Mothers trying to entertain young ones, teenagers messing with the vending machine. It looked as normal and uneventful as any other ferry ride into New York City. I wanted to shrug it off, chalk it up to my anxieties at home. That would be easy enough to do.
But something about riding around a big city traffic death trap every day heightens your instincts. I can sense the van around the corner before I actually see it. I know there's a toddler holding his mom's hand even when he wasn't visible from up high. I can tell when a car is going to blow a red light, when a taxi is going to dart out into traffic, or a pedestrian is going to jaywalk. I began to question that somehow I was turning into a clairvoyant and that maybe I was missing my true calling in life. Other bicycle messengers quickly put me in my place. Our unique sixth sense came with the territory. They were instincts that typically hung out in the ninety percent of our brain that goes unused, dulling over time with non use. Senses easily sharpened on the unforgiving and unpredictable streets of New York City.

The ferry docked and I hopped on my bike and quickly weaved a path through the departing passengers and onto the mainland. I wanted to get as far away from that uneasy feeling as possible. I needed to put about six hours in before I headed off to class. I was in my Senior year at NYU. A partial scholarship paid for some, a grant paid for the rest. I wasn't sure what the official name of the grant was, but the gist of it was in relation to my circumstances: Abandoned son who takes care of his alcoholic mother and teenage brother. Riley.
Whatever. I'd take it. I was the only one who could improve our lives, and I'd take nothing for granted in doing so. I stopped off at the company's warehouse. The messengers referred to it as "The Warehouse" but it was really just a nondescript building that looked more like a large garage. Dispatch had given me the addresses for today's deliveries over the phone. I signed in and collected the various packages and letters waiting for me and situated them in my messenger bag. Debbie Gorginski was the supervisor on duty and while raising an eyebrow at me, she handed me one last clipboard, signing that I had the packages in my possession.

"You look tired there Mr. Daniels." Debbie said as I scribbled my signature next to the "x." Debbie was from my neck of the woods in Brooklyn and was probably around fifty. She knew about my home situation, but never pried too much. We had sort of a kinship from the first time we had met, and had formed an instant friendship. I had come to trust her and had become close to her family over the last couple of years. With five daughters, I seemed to be the son they never had, and it had been years since I had felt I had a mother. I always accounted for my whereabouts with her, always told her what was going on. She'd usually give me a muffin and a banana as I headed out. When you weren't riding, you were eating. And even sometimes while you were riding, you were eating. Biking around the city all day burned massive calories. A perk of the job is that you could pretty much eat anything you wanted.

"Long night." I said as I handed her back the clipboard and gave her a knowing glance.
"Aww." Was all she said as she added her own signature next to mine. "Anything I can do for you kid?"
"No, this is already enough," I said holding the food up as I stored the muffin and started to peel the banana. "Thanks Deb."
"It's Thursday you know. We'll see you for dinner?" She asked as I tightened my helmet straps with my free hand. I finished up classes on Thursday around six, and dinner at the Gorginski's had been a standing arrangement for the last year or so. It was the highlight of my week to be surrounded by the light and laughter of the Gorginski clan, even if it was predominantly female. There was always this look in Mr. Gorginski's eye whenever I walked through the door. It seemed to radiate this beacon of hope. There was now another man in the house that would help him stay afloat in an endless sea of estrogen. I always spent at least twenty minutes in Bob Gorginski's den. We'd talk sports, politics, hunting, the DOW; anything and everything manly. Bob soaked in the male camaraderie like a sponge and I could pretend I was like any other son, chewing the fat with their dad. My own father had left years ago, and Bob made me feel, in these pockets of quality time, like the abandonment was truly my father's loss, and not some failure on my part.
The "Mancave", as the Gorginski women referred to it, could only hold court for so long. The sisters ranged in age from 7 to 19. At seven, Megan was the youngest, Heather was 9, Kim was 15, Vanessa 17 and Kylie was the oldest, 19, a year younger than myself.
I had a great rapport with all the sisters.
Megan and Heather were super competitive and were always challenging me to games like Scrabble, Clue and cards. After the first few encounters with them I soon realized I was to not "go easy on them." They played to win and they didn't want any favors. Kim was quiet and a classic middle child. She was constantly being the peacemaker and referee when Megan's and Heather's good natured squabbles boiled over into name calling and door slamming. She was extremely bright and had a very quick dry wit, but when Vanessa and Kylie were in the room she let the spotlight and attention shine on them. She was quick to do as her parents asked, and her nature alone seemed to contain the air around her, trying to take up as little resources as possible. I had felt an immediate kinship to her. She just wanted the people in her life to be happy, and derived pleasure in accomplishing it. She wasn't a martyr or a Saint. The two of us were as guilty as the next in doing things for our own happiness. We had our needs met but meeting the needs of others.
Vanessa was the loud to Kim's quiet. The lover of attention, to Kims's desire to be in the audience. To her credit, Vanessa was very lovable. She knew her sisters and parents well, and exploited their idiosyncrasies like a seasoned comedian. Never crossing over into offensive, and always walking that careful line of things being funny because they were true. When she walked in the room, we subconsciencely expected a show, and Vanessa always delivered.
And then there was Kylie. Mine and Kylie's relationship had become complicated, but as of late had found its way back to more of its typical ease and playfulness. Kylie was pretty, but her personality quickly made her cross over into beautiful.
She had long brown hair that fell in soft layers around her face and down the middle of her back. Her skin was fair and clear and was complimented by a straight nose, full lips and deep set blue eyes. As the oldest she seemed to encapsulate a part of each of her sister's personalities. It was as if she was the tree from which the other four branched off from. She had some of Vanessa's humor, Kims's peacemaking, and at times, a bit of Heather and Megan's fire and rowdiness.

It was hard to notice each other in a platonic way when Debbie first brought me to her home. I'd always considered myself average, six feet, light brown hair, brown eyes, but found myself basking a bit in the knowledge that her jaw dropped a bit when she first met me. She recovered quickly and was as warm and pleasant as the rest of her family. Secretly that first encounter always gave me a spring in my step that in that split second meeting, we had both found each other very pleasing. We seemed a perfect match to anyone that spent even small amounts of time around us. We liked the same movies, we both had a dark side to our humor, and we generally seemed to see the world in the same way. Some nights, she'd walk me out we and we'd end up talking so long but so effortlessly that Deb would insist I take a taxi home and lock my bike up at their place. The fact that Kylie was dating someone already was initially disappointing, but ultimately gave us permission to just enjoy each other without the complications of romance. I had met her boyfriend a couple of times at the house and wasn't overly impressed. I had caught a couple of looks passed between Bob and Deb that made me aware I wasn't alone in my assessment. His name was Lee. I had tried to pinpoint the thing I didn't like but it was difficult to verbalize. He was similar to an algebraic equation that seemed to have all the right elements, but didn't quite add up in the end. He was in law school and on more than one occasion when I was there hanging out with the family, had cancelled on Kylie because of school, or needing to stay late with his study group. The night that changed things between us came on such a cancellation. She had moped around the house ever since his call, and it had just seemed right to ask her out. I had genuinely just wanted to go have fun and get her mind off things. Deb and Bob had waved goodbye to us with the enthusiasm like we were on our way to our Honeymoon that night, and not just Coney Island. Whenever I recall that night, no matter how it ended, it was still the most perfect non-date I had ever been on. There should have been an element of nervousness or even awkwardness. They were just going as friends, but still. They had never gone off anywhere without a least some of the sisters with them.
Being on a "date" seemed to cover everyday events in a thin layer of expectations. Things you did all the time together suddenly felt awkward. It simply hadn't been like that for us. We laughed and joked as comfortably that night as if we were back at her house, playing cards with Megan and Heather. We split a pizza, shared an ice cream and rode the rides like we hadn't a care in the world. What I remember most from that night was how I didn't think of any of the bad in my life. Not for one minute. My responsibilities seemed to consume a large part of my thoughts no matter what I was doing, even despite my many efforts to keep them at bay when I was away from home. With Kylie there was just peace. A comfort in my own skin that I had not felt in some time. By the time we arrived back at her place, I was inwardly bursting with contentment and felt no hesitation at all in pulling her close and leaning down to kiss her. It just felt normal. Natural.
I had brushed a lock of hair from her cheek and held my palm against her face. She had truly never looked as beautiful. I leaned down only to feel her fingers against my lips. My eyes opened in genuine surprise. Were her younger sisters watching out the window? Or worse, Bob and Deb? I quickly glanced around to see light coming from the windows, but no curious faces. My expression radiated surprise and distress as she softly pulled away. I snapped back to reality with a harshness I hadn't expected. I had been so swept up in the evening, I had forgotten myself. I never did that. I was always aware, always in control.
"Kylie-please, forgive me. I just got caught up--" The reality of the situation was just starting to fully hit. I felt like a patient unexpectedly waking up during surgery, and no one but me was aware of it. The rush of endorphins had caused a numbing effect that was now lifting. I was becoming painfully aware of the knot in my stomach, the tightness in my chest and throat.
"I don't think we should." she whispered kindly.
"Kylie, I know-Lee--I wasn't thinking."
"You mean a lot to my family Scott." Kylie said thoughtfully, almost talking more to herself than to me.
"And they mean a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. Please. Let's just forget that I almost ruined a great night out." I backed up a respectable distance and shoved my hands in my pockets. I could no longer trust myself to not reach out and comfort her.

Instead of seeing anger reflected in her eyes, I saw pain. She was conflicted. It set off an immediate reflex in me to make it go away. Undo it. Undo it idiot, I told myself.
"Kylie, look, I don't even know what I was thinking okay? I'm probably tipsy from all that Banana's Foster." That got a smile. Keep going, you can fix this, I'd told myself.
"We're like--brother and sister for crying out loud." I said grasping for the right words. I had certainly killed any of the mood. Kylie had scrunched up her features in a weird face of disbelief and insult. Whoops. Back it up Daniels, you almost kissed her, make it less creepy.
"I mean, not brother and sister,really, just related you know--"
"Oh my gosh Scott, stop!" Kylie clutched her waist with one arm and was waving the other in the air, doubling over in laughter. At first I stared at her bewildered. She was laughing hysterically now and when she tried to come up for air she actually snorted. She clamped her hand around her mouth and with that, the awkwardness of the last few minutes dissolved with both of us having to sit on the porch steps in complete hysterics.
Eventually the laughter stopped and we sat there wiping the tears from our eyes. Some of that same old Kylie and Scott comfort tried to settle back into the cracks, but there was a small amount of awkwardness that was there now that hadn't been.
"You sure now how to talk to the ladies there Scott." Kylie quipped, filling up the silence.
"Remind me to never attempt to dislodge my foot from my mouth, with my other foot."
Kylie started to giggle again but remained in control this time. "Deal." She stuck out her hand like we had just hammered out terms to a contract. "I will always do my best to save you from yourself, as long as you promise that we'll always be friends." I took her hand in mine and clasped over both of them with the other.
"Deal."



The thought of being with Debbie's family that night made me feel lighter and I flew through the busy rush hour streets with ease. I grabbed hold of a taxi door handle and let it pull me a ways, serving as a catapult type device. It always gave the passenger a startle, and taxi drivers didn't love it, but let us do it all the same. I let go of the handle after a few blocks of being dragged by the speed of the cab, and launched myself around the next corner. The speed was always a rush, and certainly got the blood pumping first thing in the morning. My first stop was a familiar one. I coasted to a stop at the entrance to the offices of Liam and Drees and Associates. A law firm in a swanky high rise. I locked my bike and jogged over to the elevator. After the speed of the streets, the tedium of waiting on elevators made me feel like I was now moving through water. The doors parted and I made my way to the 25 floor, and jogged again to the receptionist's desk.

"Hey Scott, how are you today?"

"I'm good Nancy, and yourself?"

Courtesy banter with most of New York's receptionists also came with the messenger business.

"Can't complain. Every one's catching that nasty flu that's going around and I seem to to have dodged it." She took the envelope from me and signed the receipt I handed to her in one smooth motion.

"Quick, knock on wood there Nancy." I quipped and shoved the receipt back in my bag. The whole exchange happened so quickly and automatically that I had already started to turn to leave when she quickly called out for me to stay.

"Actually Scott? Mr. Liam would like to speak to you for a second if you don't mind. My puzzlement must have been written all over my face. I knew lots of receptionists and Office Mangers. Hardly ever the clients themselves. The fact that one of the actual partners to the firm wanted to speak to me was about the craziest thing I could imagine.

"Me?" I pointed to myself stupidly, but I was sure she had me confused with someone else.

"Yes. His office is right there to the left. You can walk right in." She indicated where I should go and smiled politely. This was getting weirder by the minute, but I needed to get back on my route. The faster I cleared up the misunderstanding, the faster I could get back to my deliveries. I readjusted my messenger bag across my body, and walked quickly to the office door and knocked lightly while pushing it open ever so carefully. "Er, Mr., uh, Liam?"

"Yes?" a voice answered, and I poked my head inside.

"My name is Scott Daniels? I work for RealTime? Nancy said you wanted to see me?" I kept stating everything in the form of a question in hopes that he would know I didn't really think he wanted to speak to me, but I wasn't going to be discourteous to his secretary.

"Aw! Yes! Mr. Daniels, please come in." I eased myself through the door and walked over to where he was seated behind a large mahogany desk. The office smelled of money. Rich wood bookshelves lined the walls on either side of me, and my footsteps became silent on the plush oriental rug that almost filled the whole space. Behind him was a view of the city that was nothing short of breathtaking.

"Quite a view, eh?" He asked, smiling almost smugly as he took in my reaction.

"Quite." I said, clearing my throat and coming back to the present moment. He indicated to one of the leather wing back chairs in front of his desk. Clearly I was to sit, so I sat. I tried to sit still, but my right leg bounced ever so slightly with impatience. Mr. Liam seemed to size me up thoughtfully and I tried to look elsewhere while he evaluated me.

"In our business Mr. Daniels--" he began.

"Scott, sir, really."

Okay, Scott." He rolled his ballpoint pen thoughtfully in his hands as he continued. "In our business, you can imagine that we highly value trust. Trust in our clients, trust that the State is playing by the rules, trust that we have all the facts, trust that the lawyers in our firm will do what we ask of them."

"Yes sir, I can definitely appreciate that." I was trying my best to be polite, but my patience for this weirdness was waining thin.

"Mr. Daniels, you've delivered to us for quite some time, true?"
"Um, yes sir. The whole time I've worked for the company, so two years I believe."

"Always been punctual, always courteous, always professional." he rattled off my traits like we were in some sort of employee evaluation.

"I try to be the same in my professional life, as I am in my regular life is all." I willed my right leg to not bounce higher or faster. Time was money in my job and the clock was ticking.

"Could I trust you with a delievery of my own Mr. Dani-excuse me, Scott?"

"Beg your pardon sir?" I was going from confused to dumfounded at a rapid pace.

"I know it's probably against your company's protocal to accept delieveries that don't originate from your office--"
"Unfortunely, you're right sir." I said aplogetically but relieved that this was the question and I could be on my way. "We are instructed to not take part in any third party delieveries. There's no record on our end of what's being delievered, and it could come down to your word against ours that it got to its destination. It's for our protection as well as yours, I'm sure you can understand that."

"I can. I can." he said still looking at me thoughtfully, rolling the pen back and forth.

"Surely you have messengers of your own, sir? They must deliever for you on a daily basis."

"Well, here's my predicament Scott. What I need delivered is of a sensitive nature. As much as you want to trust the cohesivness of your work family so to speak, people like to talk. Watercooler gossip is what makes the day more bearable. It was my hope that a third party, someone with no interest in its contents, could make the delievery."

"Well that seems understandable. Let me leave you my card. Call your package in directly and I'll make sure I deliever it personally." I dug into my wallet, placed my card on his desk and smiled polietly as I stood up.
He took out his own wallet and placed five hundred dollars on the desk. I felt my jaw drop and struggled to maintain a straight face as I tried to keep up with what was going on here.

He leaned forward and clasped his hands in a manner that conveyed he was a man who typically got his way.

"It would be benneficial to me, and I would consider it a personal favor to not have a record of the delievery." It was all he added and calmly pushed the money towards me. It was more than I'd make in an entire day. Two days. My mind was reeling, weighing the pros against the possible consequences. An extra five hundred dollars for the week meant a lot.

"Is this delievery of yours, illegal in nature?" I realized I risked offending him, but he was asking me to bend the rules, and I had a right to know.

"Like I said. Trust is a big deal around here. I have been entrusted to not speak of that which I'm sending, but I can assure you, you break no laws and are handling nothing questionable. My client just likes discreetness, and you strike me as someone who could help me with that."
He stood then, picked up the cash and handed it to me as if our meeting was over and he suddenly had a million things to do. From his desk drawer he withdrew a small manilla envelope that bulged slightly as if was padded on the inside. On it was a name and an address which he handed over to me as he walked around his desk and walked me to the door.

"After you deliver it, please call me at this number and let me know." He handed me his card and all but pushed me out of his office. Nancy smiled at me as I walked past and I bearly acknowledged her. In a stupor I somehow came to be in the lobby; the money still in one hand, the envelope and business card in the other. I looked around and saw the security gaurd at his desk giving me a quick cursory glance. I shook my head in an effort to clear it. What had just happened? I shoved the money and business card into a zipped pouch of my bag and slipped the envelope in a small compartment in the back. I unlocked my bike and started to ride away but my head seemed in a fog. I had never in my life had such a strange encounter, and living in New York, that was saying something. I had two options I supposed. I could just deliever it. He said it wasn't harmful or illegal. I could do this, just this once and be five hundred dollars richer. Riley's asthma medication was expensive without insurance.

I spent about five minutes adding up all the way the extra money would bennefit us and only one thinking of the negatives. It was wrong, and if Debbie found out she'd be put in the worst of all predicaments. I'd be fired on the spot if this came to light. If Debbie covered for me and it still came out...this just had disaster written all over it, and that was something I definatly couldn't afford. I jerked my bike to the left and made my way down a one way street, backtracking towards Liam and Drees. I was hurrying, I couldn't get rid of this package soon enough now.

Maybe I was going to fast, I know my thoughts were racing and I didn't have my usual focus. I felt that I was in danger seconds before it happened, but by then it was too late. I had cut through a back alley that would have dumped me back onto 3rd Avenue. My wheels locked up hard and I went flying. Even as I flew through the air, I knew that someone had stuck something in my wheels, jamming them. Mercifully I fell into a pile of discarded grocery boxes that were stacked next to a dumpster. I landed hard, but I knew nothing had broken the instant I landed.

My helmet protected me from the initial impact, and then flew off my head. I scrambled to my feet, slipping on cardboard. Just as I thought I was getting my bearings I was pushed roughly against the brick wall behind me. I blinked hard and tried to focus on what was happening. Two men. No masks. One was pinning me to the wall, the other unzipping my messenger bag. I was being mugged. Unbelievable! I was amazed that I didn't feel scared as much as I felt shocked, even bordering on irritated. I knew the city better than this. True, on the surface bike messengers were easy targets. We rode without the luxury of car doors around us for protection, and by way of how we got paid, always carried around cash. Given all that I still had thought myself immune to a situation like this. Unbelieveable, I kept thinking over and over. What felt like a lifetime, could only have been a few seconds and I couldn't lose my packages. Surely they were just after my money.
"Side pocket! My wallet is in the side pocket!" I felt impatient for this ordeal to be over and chalked it up to the adreniline and my anxiety over the packages that I didn't feel more worried for my life. The big guy pinning me to the wall pulled me up by my coat and slammed me back into the wall. It took a few seconds for the pain of my head hitting the cement to register to my brain. Everything went blurry and my peripherial vision went gray at the corners. I fought hard to remain conscience and decided that this would be a no speaking mugging. My head lulled to one side and I heard as well as felt the pulsing of my head in my ears. I watched as the second guy rummaged through my bag. What was he doing? I thought to myself. Even if they had wanted me to be quiet, I had directed them to the money. Why were they still rumaging through manilla envelopes? I heard them talking back and forth but it took on a mumbling quality and I realized I really may pass out soon. My body started to feel heavy and I felt my eyes start to close when a scream from somewhere jerked me out of it.
"Police! Help! Someone help that man!" At least it sounded like that. Maybe I was dreaming now. The weight against my chest was gone in a flash and I sank to the ground in an instant. Everything was happening faster than I could analyze the information around me. I really needed my head to stop spinning now. Cold hands were on my face and I startled a bit.
"It's okay. You're okay. I've called an ambulance and the police ran after those guys. You're going to be okay." the voice was soothing and melodic. This dream felt nice.
"What's your name?" the voice asked
"What?" I tried to concentrate.
"Stay with me, what's your name?"
Things were slowly coming back into focus. The alley, the dumpster, my bike. I looked up and saw a woman's face looking down at me, her brows pulled together in worry.
"Um, Scott. Scott Daniels." I said reaching for the back of my head.
"I wouldn't move Scott. Let's wait for the paramedics to have a look at it first."
"My bag."
"What?" she looked around confused.
"Did they take my bag?" I asked, my voice sounded a bit sluggish, but I felt I was coming more aware now.
"Umm.."I watched as she looked all around us, "Yes! I see it!" she left for a moment and placed the bag on my lap. "Maybe you didn't lose everything after all." she tried to sound helpful even though the chances of me having a dime left were slim to none. In the distance I heard the wail of the ambulance. My head was clearing more and more by the second and I quickly unzipped the pockets. The cash was there. I blinked. I definatly had a concussion.
"Um, Miss?"
"Yes, yes I'm here. My name is Autumn. I hear the ambulance now, you'll be---"
"Autumn, is that really money I'm seeing?"
She looked at it in disbelief, and back at me. "Those must have been the dumbest thieves in all of New York!" She put her hand to her forehead and shook her head back and forth in shock. I made quick work of the other compartments and everything seemed to be there. Unbelieveable, I thought for the hundreth time in the last ten minutes. Clearly these guys must have laid in wait, they rough me up, dig through my bag and take...nothing? If they hadn't found what they were looking for when Autumn startled them, why not run with the bag? This had hands down been the strangest morning ever. First the whole thing with Mr. Liam, now this.
Wait.
I flipped the canvas cover back and unzipped the small compartment in the back. My heart sank. It was gone. The package Mr. Liam had given me not twenty minutes ago was the only thing they had taken.