Into You (5)
Created | Updated Oct 25, 2020
Into You (Part 5)
I thought he was squinting very intently. His countenance morphs to be even more contemplative, more curious. He puts down his drink onto the table, places his palms on the leading edge, and leans in to get a better view. The black blob inside the mason jar circles the bottom, as if pensive, then flings itself at the inside surface. It seems to splat, then slides down to the bottom. Gerald flinches, but that’s all. He then reaches for the jar, and holds it up near his face, eyeing the ebony anomaly.
"What the heck…?" He spins the jar slowly in his fingers, holding it by the metal screw-on lid, supporting it from beneath upon three fingertips. "Is this thing alive?" The amoeba-like creature seems to crawl away from each tipping motion, seeking the higher ground within the container.
"I would say yes." I pantomime the things I tell him. "When I first tried to get it off my foot, it climbed up the safety pin I was holding. It wound up on a counter, and when I looked at it, it reached up toward me." As well as my finger replaying the moment, the blob does likewise inside the jar, extending a tendril toward Gerald.
He jerks his head back and almost drops the jar.
"Whoa-whoa! Don’t drop it and break it!" My voice is high and squeaky, laced with urgency. Eyes wide, he tightens his grip on the top of the mason jar, to the point I notice his knuckles going white.
"What… the… heck…?" he repeats himself.
"I don’t know, Gerald. I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. I was hoping for some advice. I thought perhaps, since you seem to be all science-y, that you might know a way I could find out what this – " He cuts me off.
"Arlo." He’s nodding slowly. I furrow my brow and shrug, clueless. He gets my point. "Arlo Cuthbert, a friend of mine. Works at a pathology lab in town. I bet… I bet he could help. Maybe he’s seen something like this before," he tilts the jar and points to the blob inside, "…and has it cataloged. Yeah, Arlo." He gives a final nod of certainty, as if it’s settled.
"So…" I begin, but don’t get any further with the thought.
"Let’s go see him. Let him take a look at it. Let him tell us what he knows." He holds the mason jar in a death grip, but pushes the remainder of his JD glass next to the bottle. "Don’t want to drive impaired…" He stands and casts his gaze around the room.
"You’re driving?" I ask. I expected to do so, but he seems to be offering.
"Yes. I know where he works. Easier for me to navigate there quickly. Besides, your Prius isn’t built like my tank. Hate for there to be an auto accident, and this thing gets loose." He smirks and walks to a key hook, beside a wall-mounted princess phone, and pulls down a vehicle key fob.
I’m curious, so I ask. "Does that thing actually work?" I point to the outmoded landline.
"Hm? Oh, the phone? No, that’s been out of commission for years. I just haven’t removed the lines or the phone, because I’d have to find a way to plaster over the spot where the wires come through." He sets the jar on the counter and shrugs. "Funny how things change. Huh. Give me a moment, okay?"
He slides his right hand into his pants pocket and pulls out a cell phone. He touches the screen several times, slides his finger up, back, and taps it once. He taps it again and brings it to his ear. There’s a ringtone, right on the edge of my hearing. It cycles four times, then a muted voice sounds from beneath his hand.
"Hey, Arlo. It’s Gerald." He pauses for confirmation. "Yeah. Are you busy this afternoon? I got something I need you to look at. It’s something that I can’t figure out what it is." To me, the voice sounds like the teacher from the Charlie Brown cartoons. Gerald picks up the thread of chat. "Yeah, yeah. It’s a little critter that’s… well… ‘different’ than anything I’ve ever seen. Do you think you could take a look and maybe identify it?"
The wah-wah-wah voice makes a few comments, and Gerald nods in response, as if the person on the other end can see him. "You’re not? Okay, good. Look, we can swing by in just a few minutes…" He glances at the digital readout on his microwave. "…say twenty. Uh-huh. Yeah, I’m bringing a friend along. My neighbor, Lynne." He gives me a ‘thumbs up’ with his right hand. "Will you? Yeah, that’ll keep it simple. See you in a bit…" He lowers the phone, taps the bottom of the screen, then slides it back in his right front pocket.
"He says he’ll meet us in the lobby. He’s not up to his armpits in alligators right now. Matter of fact, he said he’s kinda bored, so this’ll be a welcome distraction." He picks up the container with our little friend. "Ready?"
"So… You’re driving?" I ask again.
"Sure. You don’t mind, do you?"
"No. Then it doesn’t matter if I do this…" I up-end the tumbler of JD and swig it down. Now the firewater ignites an internal conflagration that sears away any hesitation I have about traveling with Gerald, to a forensics lab, toting a crazy blob-like creature, to determine if it’s sentient. I wipe the corners of my mouth with the back of my hand. "Oh… mmm… smoooooth…" I quip.
He chuckles and extends a hand. I wave him off as politely as I know how, and push myself up from the table. The chair I’d sat on wobbles up onto its back legs then thuds to the floor. My legs seem to be turning to spaghetti and my vision swims in a heatwave of ripples.
"Gerald?"
"Yeah?"
"I was mistaken. Where’s your hand?" It swims to me through the alcohol-induced haze, and I have to try twice to grasp it. His hand is slightly warm, and his nominal tug gets me moving in the right direction. He holds out the crook of his right arm and I hook my left arm in it, for stability. "Okie. Which way?"
"Let’s try the garage. I usually keep my Jeep there." He smiles and it reminds me of the man in the moon, though with more teeth. Gerald guides me down a hall and into the garage. He opens the passenger side door and allows me to step up and in to get situated. Then, he closes the door, and I sit swaying as he rounds the back of the vehicle and climbs in on the pilot side. He turns partway in his seat, raises the armrest of the center console, and stashes the mason jar in the cubby beneath, then drops it back to cover it. "Should be safe in there," he says.
