Chapter 38 #3
I’m back at my place, grabbing a few items to aid in today’s research.
Retrieving the microSD card from my tarantula’s enclosure, I slide the additional memory card into the larger space in the back of my phone, before snapping the case together again.
I’m not paranoid, just proactively cautious.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, realizing I look dressed for a job I no longer had.
Turning back to change, I opt for a black hoodie and matching running pants.
Now I could easily disappear into the shadows.
Today, I planned on following my uncle to one of his frequent stops.
A neglected warehouse located in a less desirable part of town, not too far from the interstate.
Until recently, I never dared to get closer, but I needed to determine who these other people were.
The simple meet ups with Officer Kent have grown into small congregations of unfamiliar faces.
Before, I’d have to follow him to know the location; now it’s almost as if he isn’t even trying to hide anymore.
Meeting at the same creepy building for the past two weeks.
I dare say, it’s impressive how he’s able to move like a phantom through this city, no one the wiser to what he’s up to.
There’s no way the rest of the family knows about this.
The cab dropped me off about a block away from the deserted warehouse district, on Tudor Street.
I didn’t want to chance being seen by unloading too close to their meeting location.
By the time I arrived, my uncle was already outside of the building with two other men.
The older one I could have sworn I recognized.
While the other dude appeared younger, likely around my age.
Close enough to actually see faces, I still couldn’t place who either man was.
The younger guy didn’t seem to want to be there.
Earbuds nestled in both ears; he looked like he wanted to tune out everything around him.
They moved inside of the building where I couldn’t monitor. I needed to find a way to see inside.
Checking the adjacent building, it appears to be abandoned as well.
It was easy enough to pull the handle from the weathered door, allowing the padlock and chain to slip free.
No need to pick any locks. The vast space sheltered an old printing press, maintenance parts, and crates upon crates of yellowed newspapers.
From the looks of it, it seems this place hasn’t been touched in more than twenty years.
Once I scaled the small ladder to the top of the scaffold, I moved from window to window, in an attempt to find the best vantage point.
Precariously stacking buckets of ink, I use my phone to view from the transom window.
By the time I hit record, the inexperienced fellow had left.
I zoomed in as much as possible, on my uncle and the mystery man poised within frame.
My calves ached from balancing and this very well could be an utter waste of time, because not only could I not hear a thing, but I couldn’t read lips either.
Regardless I was compelled to stay, not wanting to miss a thing.
I remained there; grateful I inserted an additional SD card.
This gave me enough storage space to record until the two men emerged from the desolate warehouse.
When each man pulled away from the area in their designated cars, I felt it was safe enough to leave my spot and get the hell out of this place.
Back on the main road, as I waited to hail a cab, I noticed another vehicle parallel parked across the street.
It definitely wasn’t there when I first arrived.
The vehicle looks vaguely like my uncle’s, but since he already left, I was probably worrying for nothing.
At home, I removed the microSD card from my phone and connected it to my computer using an adapter.
Adding to my running log, I entered today’s findings.
It contained my uncle’s whereabouts over multiple weeks, detailed descriptions of what I witnessed, along with dates and times.
I think my professor would be pleased to see how I’ve put my degree to use already.
It’s a well-organized report, which could prove useful as I move to uncover the truth.
This wasn’t school though and I wasn’t writing a mock column with construed opinions sprinkled throughout, this was real life, and it was fiercely personal.
He was inadvertently ruining the Lombardi name while simultaneously tearing down the Murray’s empire.
I watched today's recording, no less than ten times, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of what either man said.
Fuck! I can’t lip-read, but I know who can.
No. I can’t drag her into this. I’ll figure this out.
I plan to tell Eamon, but… what if my hunch is wrong?
What if he’s just some freaky swinger or just dealing drugs?
“Argh…” I argued with myself, trying to justify my actions for spying on my uncle or being dishonest with the one person who understands me better than anyone.
I opened up a new document and began typing.
It read more like a script, apologizing Eamon for not telling him what I’ve been up to.
Even if he didn’t read this, it was cathartic, nonetheless.
Compiling the recording, poignant letter, and logs; I thought it was a wise decision to make a backup microSD card.
What if this one got lost, damaged, or even stolen?
I wedged the original memory card back inside Thelma’s hide, where I usually store it.
Except… where was I going to conceal the other one?
It needed to be somewhere outside of my apartment, yet a location I knew I could get to.
I ran my fingers through my hair, leaning back in my chair, as I watched Thelma move about her tank before finally settling back inside her favorite spot.
At which point, I knew exactly where to put the duplicate SD card.
Later that night, after picking up some Chinese takeout, I texted Eamon on my walk home.
Theo: “Hey, I’m sorry to skip out on our usual movie night. Work was shit today. I just want to drown my worries in a container of lo mein and get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow, okay?”
Without awaiting a response, I tuck the phone back into my pocket and retrieve the keys, only to realize the front door to my apartment is already unlocked. “Shit.” Did I forget, again? I push the door open and set down the paper takeout bag, prior to moving farther into the dark living space.
“Hello Theo.”
Startled, I grab the first thing within my reach which just so happens to be… a curly willow branch from a floor vase. The shadowed figure pulls the chain of the floor lamp beside them, revealing a tall frame cramped into an armchair.
What was my uncle doing sitting in my dark apartment?! All at once, I realize I have a decorative stick ready for battle before humbly setting it back down in its designated spot.
“Uncle… hello. What are you doing here?” I’m not scared, just surprised.
Without meaning to, I raise my chin to the air, rolling my shoulders back, I stand a little straighter than usual.
In the usual cozy setting of my apartment, my uncle looked more like an awkward giant in a doll house.
He’s taller than me and wider, but I’d like to think my trips to the gym made me denser.
“Can’t I pop in on my nephew from time to time?” The room seems to shrink in size.
I haven’t moved from my position; however, my estranged family member takes up an unsettling amount of my space. I clear my throat, “Well… yeah, but you could call or maybe knock before letting yourself in.”
Inspecting his suit, he picks something off that causes his lip to curl upward, as he sprinkles the invisible speck onto the floor.
His eyes shift slowly through the room, climbing up my frame, where a cold-hollow stare settles on my face.
“Seeing how you come around without such formalities, I only thought this was the new norm.”
Shit. It was his car I saw. He knows I followed him today. I try not to panic, although I can’t help but scan the apartment still glued to the floor. Suddenly, I’m thankful for my compulsive habit to always put my research away. He’ll never find a thing.
My mind goes a mile a minute, I don’t know what to say…
how to proceed? Taking in a seemingly level, yet shaky breath, I tell myself to chill.
Yes, he knew I followed him this one time, but he can’t possibly know how long I’ve been tailing him…
can he? I force my body to move toward the kitchen counter, where I begin unpacking the to-go containers of chicken lo mein and crab rangoons. They taste terrible when they're cold.
Nicholas remains seated, silently watching me as I unpack my dinner.
Pulling out the chair, I lowered myself down to eat at the modest table.
Seriously, if I didn’t sit down, I believed my knees would buckle, from the sheer strain.
Peeling the paper off the chopsticks, I begin shoveling food into my mouth.
If I ignore the elephant in the room, maybe it will just leave.
Each swallow is labored. Never had I thought, eating in front of a family member could feel so uncomfortable.