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The time has now arrived and I’m walking into the establishment. I pass numerous people, disguised as both staff and patrons, that I know are on the force with Danny.
I didn’t give them all sign names, that’d be too much, so we came up with an alternative. Each cop was told to tap their nose upon seeing me, any time they saw me, as a reminder that, should something go down, I could trust them. Seeing it as I go helps.
Danny is in the kitchen, where he was told he would be staying, lest the bad guy recognize him as a detective on my case. His partner, who I’d just met a day ago, would be at the bar, mixing drinks.
According to Danny, Nelson was a bartender when he was younger, using the salary to put himself through school.
I’m shown to the designated table and a waitress, a subtle tap to their nose as they approach, hands me a menu and asks if I’d like a drink. I order a virgin mojito, wanting to give the façade of a woman enjoying the return of her freedom and the comped meal promised by the owner. I look over the food options, selecting one, surprised I’m suddenly hungry. Danny was upset when I didn’t eat breakfast this morning, nor did I have lunch since my stomach was too antsy.
Now, though, as it draws closer to this being over, my appetite is returning.
As my beverage is delivered, the waitress gives another tap, and asks if I’m okay. “Nervous,” I admit.
“That’s normal,” she assures me, “in a situation that isn’t for you.”
“Thank you,” I tell her.
She winks, then inquires if I know what I want to eat. Josey, per her name tag, though I doubt it’s actually hers, writes down my choice and promises to be back soon.
While I wait, I feel gazes on me, and brush them off as either people curious because they saw the news, which was kind enough to show my picture – per Danny as I don’t know what I look like anymore – or they’re part of the department and are cataloging their surroundings.
I’d do the same, but it’s pointless considering my prosopagnosia.
I try to make eye contact with some of them, needing the sign of reassurance, and I receive it from all but one.
Again, I think nothing of it, unsure if they noticed I was looking at them, meaning they didn’t know to give it. I glance over the dessert menu Josey left, wondering if I should take something home to, hopefully, celebrate this being over.
“You’re too beautiful to be eating alone.” My head shoots up, my ears unfamiliar with the voice. I’ve discovered, since my diagnosis, my hearing is a sense I now heavily rely on. I’m getting good at memorizing which belongs to who and I start to think I can resume watching my favorite shows.
“I have a headache,” I say, ensuring my tone can’t be mistaken for an invite.
“Don’t be that way,” he urges, taking a seat across from me.
“You first,” I urge him, hoping one of the police officers sees what’s happening and intervenes. But then he taps his nose and I relax. “Sorry,” I apologize. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to join me. Danny didn’t mention that was part of the plan.”
“He sent me over here. Said they caught the guy and he wants me to take you home.” Danny had me recite many scenarios and want to do should one of them occur, but this was not on the list. When I don’t move, he leans closer and informs me, “Of course, you couldn’t let me do this the easy way. Fine. I have a gun aimed at you under the table. If you don’t come with me quietly, I will shoot everyone in here.” He pauses. “Their deaths will be on you. Nod if you understand.”
I nod, not wanting him to hurt anyone.
Me included, but I really don’t have a choice.
Standing, I keep my head down, not wanting to risk unintentionally alerting somebody I’m in trouble.
I’m led to the hallway where the bathrooms are, my mind recalling the last time I came this way. My only problem then fleeing the blind date from hell.
Perhaps I can use it to escape a guaranteed death sentence, too.
“Who are you?” I ask, though I’d already figured it out despite not knowing his face.
He stares at me, as if he’s expecting a punch line. Jokes on him, I’m more the straight man in this newfound comedy duo prosopagnosia thrust on me. “Are you freaking kidding?”
“No, asshole, she’s not.” Danny! I know his voice by heart. I hear it whispering that he loves me every night as we close our eyes.
Realizing he’s busted, the guy whirls, pushing me in front of him and shoving his weapon in my side. “Why did you kill that man?” An important question for his family, but not a vital one in my current situation.
“He owed me money.”
I guess it really is the root of all evil.
