MOMENTS OF MYSTERY,
HINTS OF HORROR
by
M.T. O'Neil
SMASHWORDS EDITION
*********
Published by
M.T. O'Neil on Smashwords
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
The contents of this book is fictional. Names, incidents, and characters are all fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or incidents, living or dead, is pure coincidence.
Copyright 2011 by M.T. O'Neil
http://mtoneil2011.blogspot.com
All rights reserved.
for
E.V.H. 2/22/36 - 4/7/87
B.J.O. 8/2/53 - 5/20/88
R.A.H. 2/9/32 to 12/7/89
Failure
Blind Date
Play Date
Flea Market
Self Defense
Pedestrian Sid
Scented Candles
Rebellious
Cheater
A Life Saved
Dumb Luck
Protecting Mom
Landlord Lesson
Candlelight Vigil
Cold Sales
Paranormal Posse
Fate Steps In
"I feel like a failure." Connor directed the statement to the ceiling, not necessarily his nearby roommate.
"Hey, look," Tommy offered kindly, "you don't make any more mistakes than anyone else. Quit beating yourself up about it."
Connor swung his legs over the side of the bed, and sat up. "You know what my real problem is? Impatience. And lack of foresight."
"That's two problems."
"And never having a Plan B. Just in case."
"Three."
Connor sighed, wishing he could have a cigarette to calm his nerves. Having to quit was even harder than he would have thought it would be. "If I had had more patience, and not been in such a hurry, I know I could have done a better job."
"We can all say that. Hindsight and so forth." Tommy glanced down at the book he'd been reading. "It might take your mind off your troubles, if you tried reading a bit. It helps me."
"I doubt it." Connor hopped off the bed, and began pacing. "Damn, I want a cigarette so bad."
"Me, too, but that's life. Gotta learn to accept it. Quitting will probably extend your life by quite a few years, you know."
"Big whoop," Connor said, glaring at him. "Ever hear about quality versus quantity?"
Tommy smiled. "Look at the bright side. You probably learned a valuable lesson about what not to do in the future."
"Go back to reading," he grumbled, sitting back down on the edge of his bed. He began tapping his fingers on the top of his knee, wishing he'd done so many things differently in his past. If he hadn't started smoking at eleven, for example, he wouldn't be in such an agitated state right now, twenty years later.
But that was a bad habit, not a failure, he reminded himself. Screwing up his job, now that was a failure. He thought about everything his parents had tried to teach him about being successful in life. If he had just listened to them more, instead of tuning them both out, maybe things would be different now.
"You know," he commented drily, "my old man used to tell me to hope for the best, but plan for the worst. I never followed through with that concept."
"Oh, well. Let it go."
"I can't. Such a simple idea. If I hadn't been so impatient to get the job done, if I'd just slowed down and thought about what could go wrong. Planning for the worst, that's what I didn't do. I just assumed everything was going to go my way."
"So have a lot of people. But it doesn't, and that's the breaks sometimes," Tommy told him. "I guarantee you, if you just try accepting your mistake, and moving on from it, you'll feel better."
"Easy for you to say. Nothing seems to bother you."
"I've learned acceptance, man. You should, too."
Connor got up and began pacing again. "I'll bet I could tell you right down to the minute, when I last had a smoke."
"It'll get easier."
"Doubt it."
Tommy went back to reading his book, while Connor got back up again to pace, unable to sit still for long. He was beginning to appreciate the complaints he'd heard from others, who had given up tobacco; he'd never call someone like that a whiner again. It really was tough.
Connor thought back to the job he had so thoroughly failed at. He'd had a deadline to meet, one that was set by his employer. He should have stuck to that, instead of being so enthusiastic, that he had tried to meet it too soon. That extra time, had he spent it going over all the details, and every possible scenario, would have made all the difference in the world to him. He'd had so much time he could have used. Mentally, he kept kicking himself, and knew he would for a long time to come.
His feet were beginning to hurt from so much pacing. He sat back down on the bed, leaning back to look his roommate. "This is driving me nuts," he muttered.
"You'll get used to it," Tommy assured him.
"How long since you quit smoking?"
"Bout five years. But I was never a really heavy smoker, so that probably helped."
"And you don't miss it?"
Tommy set his book down, looking thoughtful. "Well, not so much, really, I guess. There are other things I miss, though. And maybe if I was still drinking, you know, hanging out in a bar with a shot of whiskey, I'd miss it more then."
"I'm going crazy."
"Maybe you were born crazy. My last roommate sure was."
"Yeah? What happened to him?" Connor didn't really care, since he'd never known the man; but he was just bored enough to ask.
Tommy chuckled, remembering. "Oh, they shipped him out to the local mental hospital. Nutcase started eating the mattress."
"No kidding?"
"No kidding."
"Probably cause he quit smoking," Connor muttered, getting up again.
"You're making me tired, you're pacing so much," Tommy complained. "Seriously, try reading awhile. Here," he said, extending his book to the other man. "It'll help."
Connor glared at the title. "I really don't see how reading the Bible is going to help."
Tommy smiled. "You get inner peace, man. And even if you don't, you tell everybody you do."
"And why is that?"
"Because then you just may get out early for good behavior. The parole board loves that stuff."
"Don't think it'll help me, Tommy boy," Connor grumbled. "I got life, no possibility of parole. I knocked off my assignment five minutes before his place got raided."
They were both extremely nervous, as they took seats at a table in the corner of the bar. Though they had been communicating over the internet for several weeks, meeting in person brought with it the possibility of a rejection that would hurt one's ego. There were certain advantages to electronic relationships, in that regard, but they could only go so far, and they had clearly reached the point where they both wanted to meet.
Adrian had been the first to suggest it, with fingers stuttering on the keyboard as the words were typed. Francis, too, had felt the the need, yet had, at first, hesitated to accept the invitation. The online relationship they had both enjoyed, would abruptly end if either of them was disappointed in this meeting. They both knew it, and they were both ready to risk it.
Adrian had felt meeting in a local bar would be the least stressful for them both. Though it was not a question of trust, the first meeting should be in a open place anyway. Having liquor available would both relax the setting, but also allow each to see if the other might have a tendency to over indulge. Both of them were self declared social drinkers only, and neither of them was interested in someone who had an alcoholic addition.
They had already discovered during their online chats, that they both liked the same drink, which the barmaid quickly went off to obtain for them.
"I don't think we ever discussed past, serious relationships, did we?" Francis commented nervously. "Have you ever been married?"
"Once," Adrian responded. "A mistake, which I realized within the first six months. Annulled, but that was some time ago."
Francis laughed nervously. "I suppose, in this day and age, I should ask if your ex was male or female?"
Adrian laughed, too, at that. "Times are different now, aren't they? What about you? Any past marriages for you?"
"No, but I did have a five year relationship once. Ended badly."
The barmaid returned then, with their drinks. They both reached for their glasses with a bit of relief, Adrian also taking a sample from the small bowl of bar nuts that she had set down for them as well.
"I was afraid to try the dating thing again," Francis admitted. "People seem so phony sometimes. I don't get that feeling from you, though."
"Nor I from you," Adrian admitted. "But I have to say, usually the people I've met online tend to completely misrepresent themselves. You know, height, weight, looks. You are exactly the way you described yourself."
Francis laughed nervously. "You didn't exaggerate either. I had no trouble picking you out when I got here."
Much of their ensuing conversation covered information they both already knew from their online chats, but hearing the same answers in person just seemed to solidify they relationship. There was no nervous eye blinking, no trembling of hands. By the time the barmaid had brought their second drinks, they had each memorized not only the other's eye color, but also every visible facial feature. If fate played a part in one's life, then these were two people who had been destined to meet from birth, for they were so perfect for each other.
"Your voice is so intoxicating," Francis commented. "Just as I would have imagined it to be."
"I feel the same," Adrian answered. "And I expect we'll be spending a lot of time on the phone now."
"Better in person." They both smiled at that.
The second drinks weren't fully finished, when Francis suggested they walk over to the nearby movie theater. There was a new movie out that they had previously discussed online, that they both had wanted to see.
As they left the bar, hand in hand, they barely noticed the scraggly young man who brushed past them. Barely out of his teens, two days of stubble on his young face, he was more intent on keeping a tight grip on the gun in his pocket, than noticing the exiting couple.