Strangers - Chapter 1

As the tender horizon gave birth to a bleeding sun, and the lion of morning swallowed the lamb of night, Peter Valiman rose out of bed at 7:15 A.M., October 1st. Peter's morning schedule had seldom changed for several years. He'd wake at sunrise without the help of an alarm clock, relying solely on his internal clock. He'd grab warm clothes for the day, shave, shower, and dress. In the kitchen, after brewing a fresh pot of coffee and preparing some wholewheat toast smothered with strawberry jam, he was off to work at 8:00.1

Peter Valiman was, at the very least, the typical average Joe. Average height, average weight, and average income. He worked at a bakery in Verde Campos, Florida, and had been for the past three years, ever since he was thirty-one years old.2

It wasn't the greatest job in the world; certainly, it wasn't the best paying job in the world, either. But Peter felt at home at the bakery, working with people he's grown accustomed to, and making enough money to live an average, happy life. And he was one hell of a superb worker.3

In the car, periodically sipping from his warm cup of coffee to keep him awake, Peter would drive to work twenty minutes away and listen to jazz. He was turned onto jazz a few years ago, and had taken some time recently to collect some CDs. He had various CDs by many different artists, but every morning, he always played the album “Kind of Blue” by Miles Davis, and soaked in every single note like he was a giant sponge. It always seemed to make his day start off better.4

Beyond Bread, the bakery at which Peter worked five days a week, opened at 8:30. Peter always liked to arrive a few minutes before the doors opened to make a good impression, and also to get setup for his day at work before hungry customers hit the counter for some tasty breakfast pastries.5

Parking next to the dumpster behind the little shop, he tossed his keys in his hand, while whistling “Freddie Freeloader” by Miles Davis, which was still fresh in his mind. 6

As he finished unstacking the chairs around the tables and set them up for the day, Brian Smith, one of Peter's good friends who also worked at the bakery, walked in with a broad grin on his face.7

“Hey, man,” Brian said as he walked in.8

“How's it going, Brian?” Peter asked.9

“Pretty good man, pretty good. You know, I met this girl last night at dinner, and she's fucking brilliant, man.”10

“Yeah?” Peter asked, interested. Brian, now at the age of forty, had been single for two years. He was married for seven years to a wonderful girl, Jessica, who had given birth to a boy whom they named Jacob Smith, after Brian's father who had passed away from a heart attack earlier that year. But now Jessica had gone too, having passed away from a brain tumor. Brian was left with three year old Jacob when Jessica passed away. Jacob, now five, was just beginning to go to school, which put a huge financial pressure on Brian. Now than ever, he needed somebody else in his life.11

“Yeah,” he responded. “She's great, that she is. I winded up talking to her for an hour. Of course, I had Jacob with me, and she was in love with him, calling him cute and adorable and everything. She treated him really nice, and I think Jacob likes her, too. I asked her out to dinner some other night and she said yes.”12

“That's great! I'm happy for you,” Peter exclaimed.13

“Thanks, man. You've always been by my side, even since before Jessica passed away. Her passing really affected me. I just want to get everything back on track, not only for my sake, but for Jacob's.”14

It was 8:30, and employees started trickling in for work. Peter knew all of them very well. Occasionally when a new member was hired for the bakery, Peter gad tried to warm up to the newcomer quickly. It was his nature to be warm to people.15

Beyond Bread started getting packed with customers at around 9:00 for those late sleepers in a morning hunt for blueberry muffins and glazed donuts. Few customers come in thereafter, and at 12:00 to 1:00 it became very packed again, because most people who worked around the local area would go on their lunch break.16

Time drags for the majority of workers after 5:00, because there is very little business. Most people have headed home after a long day at work. However, some people might have decided to have stopped by and reward themselves with a slice of banana bread or such after a hard, rough day. All service stops at 7:00 P.M, when the shop closes for the evening.17

Thankfully, Peter's workday ended at 5:00, where he would take the opportunity to say goodbye to all his friends, and drive home. On the drive back, Peter put on the album “Birth of the Cool”, again by Miles Davis.18

Peter's house was very nice compared to the majority of houses in Verde Campos. The majority of houses in the area were very ancient and run-down. The middle class, which Peter considered himself to be in, lived fairly well in Verde Campos. His house had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, and, of course, a full kitchen.19

Peter lived alone, and always had lived alone. He wanted to settle down with a family when he was forty or older. Also, bringing a wife and possibly children into his home would probably mean that he would need a better job, and Peter just wasn't ready to give up his job at the bakery.20

At 7:00 that evening, Peter cooked himself a wonderful, juicy, tender steak. Steak was an expensive meal compared to most meals, but it was also his favorite. He opened a bottle of cheap wine and put on the album “Kind of Blue” again. He listened to it from start to completion, and then put it back on the first track and listened to the whole album again.21

Pretty soon, he was drunk, and tired as hell. Without a shower, without brushing his teeth, and without changing, he fell asleep on his bed at 10:00. Peter had slept with no disruptions, until his cell phone in his pocket had started to ring and woke him up.22

As he moved his head gently and reached for the phone in his pocket, a headache hit him with full force. He noted the time, 3:00 A.M. on the screen of his phone, the letters piercing the pitch darkness of night and stabbing at his eyes. The caller I.D said “Unknown Caller”. Peter answered it.23

“Hello?” Peter said.24

“Listen to me,” replied a very smoky male voice.25

“What?”26

“I'm watching you, right now.”27

“Who the hell is this?”28

“It's not 'Ask a Thousand Questions Day', asshole.”29

“Look, man. I don't appreciate prank phone calls. Goodbye.” Peter was about to disconnect the call, when he heard the smoky voice again. 30

“Don't leave your house tomorrow. Don't go to work. Stay at your house.”31

“What the fuck, man. This doesn't make any sense.”32

“It doesn't have to make any sense, dip-shit. What you don't know can't hurt you, unless you're a fucking blind man and ten feet away from stumbling into a pit of stakes. Listen and shut the fuck up: At 11:15 in the morning, a man will come to your house. You won't miss him, because you will be there. He'll handle you from there.”33

“Who the fuck is this?”34

“For now, you can call me Red.”35

“Is this a fucking joke?”36

“Does it sound like I'm laughing, smart ass? Does it sound like I'm in a very comical mood? Huh, asshole?”37

“What if I don't stay at my house? What if I think you're a teenager who's full of shit and who has nothing better to do at three in the morning than to fuck around and prank call people?”38

“By all means, if you don't believe me, go ahead and do things your way. You'd be playing a game of poker with the fucking devil. And if that's what you want to do, be my fucking guest, dick-head.”39

The caller hung up, and Peter fell asleep instantly, flying high in dreamland.