The Arrivals (1)
Michael Harris

 

Adrian Belfast lay drenched in a pool of his own sweat, tossing and turning, snapping his head this way and that in the dead of night. His sheet and blanket now were in a mishmash pile not far from where his bed stood in his dorm. His heart hammered inside of his chest like the beating of a base drum. The words that escaped out of his mouth were largely only fractions of words and semi-phrases, though if one were present they could at times decipher a 'No!' and a 'Please!' Nowadays Adrian's life mostly consisted of intense fear, a regret that would not retreat to the small recesses of his consciousness, and a grief whose tentacles had grabbed hold and made its abode with him, and was squeezing the very life out of him. The young and aspiring Adrian Belfast, had committed murder.

...huff puff...huff puff...huff puff...

He propped himself up in his bed, wiping the immense sweat from his brow. These nightmares that he was having had the uncanny ability to drain him of his very energy, and so with an effort he craned his head towards the alarm clock. The time read 4:05. It was only a three hour night. He placed the weight of his cranium in his hands, and sat there in bed for what had to seem like time without end. A scant four days had elapsed since Adrian had committed the crime, and almost immediately his world began to cave in on him. Adrian's unbridled lust for success in his chosen field had been the catalyst which ignited the killing. His jealous envy upon coming across the works of another aspiring author had at first incited a curiosity mingled with feelings of self deprecation about his own works, but then upon meeting the very gifted individual and spending time with him (whom just so happened to be a student at the same university), he embraced wholeheartedly the notion of terminating his life so that he would not be seen as inferior in the eyes of the public.

He removed his hands from his face and ran them through his hair. His appetite had scarcely existed the past few days, but he felt that he needed to try to feed himself something, anything would do. Whatever it took to recover his lost faculties, he was sure he would discover it. He forced himself out of bed and resolved to take it one step at a time, deciding on eating a singular pop tart. He let it toast just how he liked it and after it was done at best began to nibble and nibble at the corners. An anger seeped up inside him and he flung the pop tart across the very small kitchen of his dorm.

Perhaps the attempt to occupy his mind might assist him. He picked up the remote and sprawled himself across his sofa. He flipped through the channels. He had cable, so there was plenty of channels to choose from. He went from a movie, to a news broadcast, to the weather channel, all in a mostly lethargic and uninterested manner. The face he displayed was the same throughout, dead and lifeless. He repositioned himself on the sofa, sitting up, and this time tried to consciously focus on what was happening on the screen. Even when trying to pay attention to what was on the television, he was in an uncanny predicament whereby he would relate most of what was being said to what he did, or even relate it to a characteristic of his victim's, in some way, shape, or form, such was the effect it had on him. Time marched on as if a group of turtles were now in charge of it, and every conscious moment for Adrian lay conjoined with the deed of murder. He glanced at the alarm clock again and it read 4:35. This is what he would try to fill the rest of his time with, hardly paying attention to the television and awaiting his 8:30 class. He had been faithfully attending his classes (albeit not really paying attention in them) as he was not about to let this situation destroy all semblance of life and opportunity for him.

This is what had become of Adrian's life in an instant. His mind raced at the possibilities that now lay before him. He could get off scot free. There was no one who saw him going into the dorm, and there was no one who saw him leaving Or was there?--The weather would be a tolerable seventy eight degrees today. Tomorrow--He didn't have a criminal record, so even if say the police had a hair that fell from his head it's not like they'd be able to trace it back to him--light rain for Wayfolk and Dayton counties--What about the thought that lead to this madness? What if they started to take samples from the students on campus? How likely a scenario would it be for them to ask for a sample from him though?--The case involving the death of a young university student--I was alright until that thought entered into my mind. But what if someone turned a corner the instant he left the victim's room? What then? A witness? But he didn't see anyone down either side of the corridor. What would prison be like?--The man and woman on the television were arguing--He would be someone's woman in prison wouldn't he? What about the death penalty? Was that even legal in this state?...

He sprawled himself back on the couch. He wanted to yell. He wanted to shout aloud a terrible cry and somehow have all of these torments escape out of him at the exact same moment. He wanted to lose his memory. Amnesia was akin to a great and wonderful antidote, an intoxicating elixir that would surely correct these plagues that had so besieged him. There was, however, that one area of the killing, that one domain of discomfort and uncertainty that he did not--at the time--foresee, and one that could have grave consequences. The circumstance with which he found himself in was by no means relative to perhaps a thug here or someone doing time in prison there. This was not an ordinary case of the murdering of an individual, for Adrian had murdered someone named Lucas Slaughter who confided to him and showed undeniable proof that he was an extra terrestrial.

Adrian had been battling this thought ever since he saw the first news broadcast on Lucas' death and it came to mind. Is it at all possible, is there even a sliver of possibility, that my murdering of Lucas could start an intergalactic war? I murdered someone who was born on another planet, out of malice and sheer jealousy. I took his life. Won't his alien brethren want to respond to that? And in what manner will they respond? It all made sense. They would come with their galactic armies, blanketing the skies with a swarm of star ships, all in the name of their dead comrade. He would be the person responsible for bringing the human race under the subjugation of cruel taskmasters and slave-drivers. Humanity would live out the rest of their days in unrivaled agony, and it would all be because of Adrian's self serving desires. Everyone he knows, his family, friends, even Crystal a new female prospect (whom Lucas helped him attract), would have him to thank for it. No! I can't let this happen. I won't! But what could he do? What power could he command that could reverse such an outcome? There was nothing even remotely possible that would undo these chain of events.

His heart sunk to the depths of his frame at these morbid, foreboding thoughts. A great grief seized control of his soul and maximized terror crawled up beside him. A faint, dim hope resided in his heart, in an unrelenting sea of blackness. Time continued to tip toe on, but he eventually had to make himself ready for class. He went to the bathroom and began to wash himself up out of the faucet, completely forsaking the idea of taking a shower. He could scarcely even look at his reflection in the mirror. He went to his bedroom and randomly chose a pair of blue jeans to put on and a polo shirt. He slipped on his gym shoes and strapped his back pack along his shoulders and headed out the door. There was a pocketful of students to be seen in the hallway. Adrian walked and headed for class with his head bent low in abject reflection.

On his way to the history building, he saw a posterboard with a picture of Lucas' on it, smiling. It was an initiative being led by the journalism team of which Lucas was a part imploring anyone who had any knowledge of the killing to come forth. But it was these few sentences which stood out the most for Adrian:

'Lucas bought an amazing depth of warmth and kindness to whoever he came across. He would light up the room with his presence and touch our souls with his loving and caring words. It breaks our hearts to see that he is gone, and it is a wonder that someone perceived something in him so glaringly wrong that they had to take his life because of it. Lucas, we will forever miss your tender and gentle spirit. You were our friend, and our comrade, and we were glad to have had the chance to know you--signed the journalism team.'

Adrian thought on these words and it dawned on him for the first time that he had taken a person's life whom had touched so many different kinds of people, even if he was alien. He reflected on the people he met during the recital that Lucas asked him to be a part of, he reflected on the people who had come across and were touched by Lucas' writings, and even just people that were friends and companions of Lucas', like the journalism team. It completely broadsided Adrian and he felt for the first time sorry for causing pain and suffering to all those who knew Lucas.

Adrian made it to class with about 3 minutes to spare. Even then the room was only spotted with students. He took his seat and placed his hands on his desk as a support for his chin. He knew what was coming. He knew that he would not be able to partake in any discussions. He was only hoping that these feelings would soon pass over, that this was only a visitation and not permanency. His professor waddled into the classroom and the lesson began. He taught, students listened, hands were raised and questions asked, and all throughout that time Adrian's thought and focus lay on the deed of committing murder and the outlandish consequences that could be in store. Throughout that time, the professor didn't call on him for an answer, much to his relief, and the class ended with none of the students openly wondering as to his downtrodden state.

Adrian headed back toward his dorm with his head mostly bent toward the ground. When he made his way back to his room he looked down the hall and there were people standing in front of his dorm door. He recognized one as a student receptionist in charge of giving visitors information that would lead them to the dorm of the person they were visiting. The other person he didn't recognize. Then it dawned on him, it was a police officer. An uncontrollable fear welled up inside him and he looked this way and that before deciding on making a run for it. But before he could scamper away, the girl called out to him and he had no choice but to confront this scenario head on.

'Oh. There he is officer. Adrian? This gentlemen would like to talk with you." Adrian somehow managed to regain command of himself and walked over towards the pair.

"Talk to me? About what exactly?"

"We'll talk about that alone, if you don't mind," said the officer.

"Uh...ok," said Adrian. "Is it alright if we speak in my dorm?"

"It shouldn't take long," said the officer. "I just need to ask you a few questions." Adrian led the officer into his dorm and closed the door behind him. The two both stood. The officer pulled out a notepad and began.

"My name is Detective John Ashley. I'm doing the investigation in the murder of Lucas Slaughter. Did you know Lucas at all personally?"

"Well, I can't say that I did." John looked at Adrian in a contemplative manner and it took an effort for Adrian to maintain his stare.

"I'm going to advise you up-front not to lie to me, Adrian. I have a responsibility to bring this criminal to justice, for the sake of the victim's grieving parents. I'm going to ask you again. Did you or did you not know the victim?"

"His parents?" said Adrian as he tilted his head slightly and looked at the detective quizzically. But Lucas didn't have any parents, thought Adrian to himself. At least not the way this gentlemen is describing, he's alien.

"Is there some reason why you can't answer the question? Did you or did you not know the victim?" Adrian thought on this for a short passage of time with his head bent low.

"Well, I had made his acquaintance a few days before he was murdered, so I guess you could say that I knew him. But in terms of me being personally acquainted with him, I would say no."

"I see," said the officer. Adrian had placed his hands in his pockets. He didn't want the officer to see that his hands were sweating and shaking and that he was nervous.

"And how exactly did you come to meet Lucas?"

"I'd--I'd come across some of his writings and I wanted to meet him in person. I discovered that he went to the same university that I attended."

"And do you know of any reason why anyone would want to kill him?" Adrian looked around the room and thought on this questioning for a time.

"I can't say that I do. He was a very kind hearted and warm individual, from what I saw of him. He--he never got angry at anything, at least I'd never seen him angry before, so I can't see any reason why someone would want to kill him. But then again, I only knew him for like two days."

"I see..." said Detective Ashely. "Well, I inquired of the journalism team and they said that you had requested an audience with Lucas about five days ago during one of their meetings. I just wanted to come and ask you a few questions and see if you could lead me in the right direction in the case." Adrian nodded.

"I understand, detective. But, if there's nothing else I can do for you?" Detective Ashley was in reflection of what he'd just said and wasn't paying too much attention to what Adrian had just put forth. Adrian was beyond agitated that this was going on. Surely he was being investigated. Surely they'd find some evidence to incriminate him, and surely he'd spend the rest of his days in prison.

"Hmm? Oh right, right. Well, if you discover anything else just let me know. Here's my card." Adrian rubbed his right hand on the inside lining of his pocket to get the sweat off of it and took Detective Ashley's card.

"Just give me a call if you discover anything."

"I will do just that, detective."

"Thank you for your time," said Detective Ashley. Adrian saw the detective to the door. He closed the door and slid to the floor with his back against it in contemplative silence.

bbbbrriiiinnnggg bbbbrriiiinnnggg

The sudden ringing of the phone startled him so immensely that he almost sprung out of his sneakers. Calm down buddy, he said to himself. It's just the phone. He answered and it turned out to be Crystal, the girl whom he met in a club with Lucas four days ago.

"Hi, Adrian. This is Crystal. You haven't forgotten about me, have you?"

"Huh? Oh no, no, not at all. I remember you. I was just uh--"

"--You were just uh what? Listen, Adrian, I've been waiting on you to call for the last four days. Would you have rather exchanged numbers with Donna?" Crystal's tone was accusatory to the end. Adrian sought to explain his situation.

"No, no. I just uh...well, something had come up. I meant to call you though. But with all that's going on, I don't know--"

"--Oh, you must be talking about your friend's death. I heard about that on the news. It's so tragic. You wouldn't believe how heartbroken Donna was."

"Yeah, that's it. My friend just died..." An immense guilt plagued Adrian upon using this line and he cringed after having used it.

"Well, that's understandable. Might you need a little cheering up? You think you can make it over here by 2:30? That's when my class ends." Adrian at first didn't think it was wise to associate with people to the degree that this was going to be, but he later recanted on the basis that he needed to get his mind off of all this somehow, especially now with the police seemingly investigating him.

"Sure. I can be there at 2:30. Just tell me how to get to the building that you'll be in, and what route to take."

***


Adrian had shuttled across to a suburb of the city and to Summit University, the school that Crystal attended. It had taken a total of three bus routes. She had told him to meet her in the English building. He got off the bus along with many other students and looked around for the campus key that would show him where he was relative to it. He found it and discovered that he was relatively within the area of the structure, so he headed for its direction. The spring semester was only a scant few days old, so there was a lot of confusion amongst the students at the campus, and many people milling about. He found the building and headed for room number 103 with about seven minutes to spare.

He peeked inside of the door window with his hands as a scope for his eyes and saw the professor was still whining on. He sighed. He began to pace back and forth. He placed his hands inside of his pockets, then took them out again. He let loose a sigh once more. He decided to just sit down against the wall and wait for the professor to release the class. Just as soon as he sat the door swung open. He sprung up. Students began filing out. He looked over heads and swam his way through the horde of students. He spotted Crystal. She was talking with someone. He made for them and in his excitement trampled his way into them, knocking their belongings to the floor.

"Uh...forgive me for this. I guess I was just in a hurry to see you."

"Oh--Adrian," said Crystal as she helped Adrian pick up the fallen materials. "It's alright. How long did that douche bag of a professor keep you waiting?"

"Not long. I just got here." The student who Crystal was talking to was male. He just stood there speechless and eyed Adrian as he and Crystal were picking up the books and notebooks.

"No, that's not mine, that's his," said Crystal.

"Oh--right. Here you go. Sorry again buddy," said Adrian while placing his hand on his head.

"Huh? Right, right. Well umm--no foul done."

"Listen Adrian, this is my classmate, Casey Hudson. He just transferred here."

"How are ya, Casey? It's good to meet you."

"Likewise--well uh Crystal, I should really get going. I have to be to work at three. My boss will kill me if I'm late again."

"Ok. I'll see you in class next week," said Crystal.

"Right, right," said Casey. "I'll see you in class." Casey gave one last side glance at Adrian and left.

"Nice guy," said Adrian as the two of them walked in the opposite direction.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool. You're not jealous are you?"

"Well, do I have a reason to be?" Crystal put on a small smile. Adrian was feeling a little better too.

Adrian and Crystal had decided to have lunch together. This was to officially be their first date. Adrian didn't have a job, but he did have money from loans and also his parents would send him money at times. At his university he had a meal plan. Crystal had one as well. But the two of them decided to go out to a Denny's that was near the university. The waitress came and took their orders. The both of them ordered cheeseburgers and french fries.

"Ok, I'll be right back with your order."

"Thanks," smiled Crystal. She placed the both of her arms on the table. "So."

"So," said Adrian.

"It's our first date."

"Yeah, it is," said Adrian with a smile. Crystal returned the favor. Adrian had never had a girlfriend before. He thought on this on the walk towards the restaurant. But somehow, someway, he had managed to attract the attention of someone as beautiful as Crystal. Her hair fell down to her shoulders and was as black as a raven. She had the most remarkable pair of eyes, they were sparkling, akin to the crown jewels of a royal family. He thought he could stare into those eyes all day and never get tired. She was slender, but possessed ample subsidies in all the right places. She was a young and vibrant woman, and one to be desired. Just how had he managed to attract someone so beautiful in the first place? How did someone like him who all throughout his life could never find the courage to even approach a woman, manage to secure an opportunity such as this? Then the thought hit him like a ton of bricks. It was Lucas. Lucas was the one who got me to open up and approach her. He bent his head in miserable reflection upon realizing it.

"Oh, is there something wrong?"

"No, I'm fine. I'll be fine I mean."

"I know what's bothering you," said Crystal as she placed her hand on his. "It's Lucas' death, isn't it?" Adrian remained silent.

"You can tell me Adrian, I'm here for you."

"I don't think anybody is really here for me..."

"Adrian, I've lost people who were close to me before. I know how hard the sting feels. It's a good idea to air out your feelings instead of keeping them bottled up inside you."

"I feel lost," said Adrian who was trying to avoid eye contact with Crystal. "I feel like--no one can relate to me, that no one understands the pain I'm going through. That no one will ever be able to understand..."

"It's only natural to feel that way when you've lost someone close to you. But trust me, it gets better."

"I feel like--whatever happens next will be my fault." Adrian bent his head. Crystal looked at him questioningly.

"Adrian, are you saying you know something about the murder?"

"NO!" Adrian shook his head vehemently. Heads throughout the restaurant snuck a peek towards the pair. "No I'm not. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying--"

"--Adrian, if you know something you need to tell the police," implored Crystal.

 

 

Go to part:2  3 

 

 

Copyright © 2007 Michael Harris
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"