Last Mistake Senator Jack Willow sat alone at a table in the corner of the room, staring into his glass. He was enjoying the friendly buzz of conversation; it made him feel at home although, ironically, that was the last place wanted to be. Trying to forget the huge argument he had had with his wife only a few hours before, he just wanted to relax and to have a good time. That was when she walked through the door. Instantly, the room went silent. Willow was unsure whether this was because his ears had stopped working to focus all concentration into his eyes, or because every man in the room was seeing what he was. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Tall and slender, her glossy hair floated around her face like black tendrils of perfume. Her skin was an icy white and although her large, glittering eyes were a deep hazel, they mirrored this quality with a cold, empty look. However, any doubts as to her loveliness melted away when she smiled and her shiny crimson lips parted to expose a set of gleaming white teeth. Glancing around the room it was clear that his latter assumption was true. All heads had turned to stare. The girl, however didn�t seem to notice. She sat at one end of the bar and to Willow�s delight he found himself facing her. For a long time he stared at her, without a care in the world, fixing every detail about her in his memory. But then, unexpectedly, she looked up at him and for a fleeting second, he felt his chest tighten. Embarrassed to be caught in the act, Willow quickly looked away. He tried to find something to occupy himself with and when this failed he glanced up at her again, only to find her still watching him. Surprised, Willow gazed back, transfixed. The heavenly stranger gave him another of her dazzling smiles and after briefly glancing at his left hand, with which he still gripped his last untouched drink, she stood and made her way towards his corner. Jack believed all his wildest dreams had come true. He didn�t however feel the same way twenty-four hours later as he stood in a dirty back alley, which smelt of rotten vegetables and stale beer. He was also feeling extremely uncomfortable due to the two gargantuan figures looming over him. Both appeared to be of Maori descent and both were wearing combat boots, old jeans and torn shirts. They also had heavily tattooed faces which, if possible, made them even more intimidating. Trying not to think of what this pair could do to a small guy like himself, Willow concentrated on avoiding eye contact. �Got tha money?� demanded the larger and fiercer looking of the two. Jack scrambled to pull a bulky-looking envelope out of his pocket. �Yes, yes, here it is. Fifty grand, all in one hundreds, just as she said.� As he handed the money over, his hands shaking, and accepted the package containing the photos, he thought back to the events of the previous night. How could he have been so easily manipulated, he had played right into her manicured hands. Jack was just one of the many victims. Like the others, he had done nothing in particular to deserve this punishment. He simply fitted the profile: rich, married and unhappy. Her next prey would be Robert Waterman, a wealthy businessman who, she had heard through her source, had been attending marriage counseling for the last four weeks. Waterman routinely stopped by his local pub, Kelly�s Tavern, every Friday night on his way home from work at around eight o�clock. She prepared for the night�s business and arrived at the Kelly�s with a couple of minutes to spare. She chose a seat in the corner which had a good view of the whole room. It wasn�t much to look at. Mouldy shamrock-covered wall paper was roughly stuck to the wall behind the bar, but it was beginning to peel off, revealing a white washed wall. In the corner opposite where she sat was a large glass cabinet, containing an assortment of Irish paraphernalia. However the glass had become so discoloured that it was impossible to see what was inside. To finish off this highly peculiar theme, a large plastic fish had been mounted on a board and hung on the wall, just above the door. It was at the same moment that she was gazing at the large bream, wondering why on earth someone would willfully spend time in a place like Kelly�s Tavern that Robert Waterman entered. He was a tall man of medium build and appeared to be about forty-five. He wore a suit but had taken off his coat, which was draped over one arm. His copper hair was flecked with grey and although he wore a grim but defiant expression, there was an exhausted look in his pale, watery-blue eyes. Waterman made his way to the bar and after exchanging greetings with the bartender, sat down and ordered a drink. With his back to her there was no way that she could catch his eye. She would therefore have to go to him. She pulled a small pocket mirror out of her purse and after fixing herself up she stood and slowly made her way towards her newest conquest. As she drew closer she made sure to brush past him. This had the desired effect and he turned his head and upon seeing her, smiled. �I�m so sorry sir.� She murmured, smiling back. �I�m so clumsy.� �Not at all miss, it was my fault� replied Waterman without taking his eyes off her. �And now you must allow me to buy you a drink.� At these words, she was suddenly struck with an extreme sense of deja vu. She had heard these words before. It was the same situation, but a different time, a different place, a different companion. Suddenly Kelly�s Tavern, Robert Waterman and the world surrounding her changed. She was in another bar. However, unlike Kelly�s it appeared that renovations had been undergone in the past twenty years. Instead of the dusty old floor boards, smooth, black tiles covered the floor and also the front of the bar. The lighting was dimmer and it was much quieter. The counter, made from marble, was cool against her bare arms and sent an eerie shiver down her back. She stared at its dark surface and at her reflection, which stared back at her with a mournful look. She wasn�t alone and she knew who it was sitting beside her. She knew exactly what he would say, she remembered the sound of his voice and without looking, she remembered every detail about his face. His mysterious smile, the dark mass of hair which he�d constantly brush from his eyes- a sparkling green colour, which reminded her of an emerald necklace she had once seen in the jeweler�s window when she was a little girl; and most of all, the enraptured way in which he stared into her own eyes. She knew this without looking because this was the face that haunted her dreams every night. This was the mistake, the misjudgment that she had sought so long to forget. This was the reason it had all begun. It wasn�t about the money. It never was. She had thought that, eventually, all the faces would blur together and that he would disappear, but she remembered every face, every name, and she remembered their looks of terror when she threatened to bring their worlds down around them. But the look he gave her had been different. He hadn�t been scared, just stunned. She would never forget him and she would never forgive herself for what she had done. If only she�d stopped him. She could have saved him. Her thoughts were then interrupted as he began to speak. She looked up at him, into those emerald eyes and at that moment she missed him more than ever. But maybe she could stop this, if she could just protect him. But he was getting up, shaking his head in disbelief, the look in his eyes had changed, they were as she had last seen them, full of a deathly cold sorrow. She should never have used him. �NO! Don�t go!� She felt the tears welling in her eyes now. She was about to lose him again. �Wait, please wait!� He�d reached the door. He flung it open and ran out onto the street. She knew what came next, before she even heard the horn or the screeching brakes. �NO! I LOVE YOU!�������� �But we�ve only just met honey.� Waterman�s voice brought her back to the present. Startled, she looked around and found he was giving her a strange look. �Are you ok?� No, she wasn�t ok. She was alone. She had lost him, the only person that had ever understood her. She had tried to manipulate her mind into forgetting, but she never would. Her life was meaningless and there was only one way out. �I�m sorry but I have to go.� She had made her decision. �But�now?� She stood up, took a few steps and turned back to look at Waterman, though not really seeing him. �I�m sorry�I really am� and with this she left. Not noticing, not caring that once again she had the attention of the whole room. As she went, she smiled to herself, knowing it was nearly over.
Copyright © 2005 Kristen Karlson |