The Past Catches, the Present Throes.

      I drank coffee naked. It was an interesting experience, made even more so by the fact that I was on a wooden stool, and it hurt. Like hell. However, one must make sacrifices to wake up, especially from a night as tiring and uneventful as last night. So I just sat there. I looked out the window to see the birds hopping from tree to tree, moving their heads so fast they should be getting constant whiplash, and hearing them sing.

      Birdsongs helped me cope with the death of my father. He was an ornithologist. He would often tell me, “Stacey, remember this: if a bird shows up at your doorstep and you have the chance, fly with it.” After he died, I just remembered seeing a bird at the doorstep of my house. His words rung in my head like a bell, increasing with intensity, and increasing the vibrations of the world around me. I just got up and ran. I ran until I found treasure, or what a little girl would consider to be treasure. I found a gold coin.

After my “awakening”, I decided to cleanse myself, to take a shower. I felt the beads of water crash against my body, as if they were knocking. Some droplets ran down my shoulders, like they were wishing me good luck with whatever was going to happen. Whatever happens happens. A phrase had never been truer.

      After I left the shower, I got dressed, and again I sat down on the same stool as before and had another cup of coffee. I expected nothing to happen on a Sunday morning in the middle of Autumn. I only expected to turn on R.E.M.’s Nightswimming and watch the gold and grapefruit red leaves fall from the oak trees and onto the damp earth below. However, that all changed very quickly.

      My doorbell rang. I only expected a package. In all fairness, I did receive a package. I opened a door to have someone grab my arm and pull me across my lawn to their car. I screamed the entire time, of course. When he threw me in his car (and I knew it was a he because I could smell that it was a he), I realized that I knew my kidnapper. “Robin?”

“Hello Stacey. Listen I don’t have time to explain. All I can say is that I have 24 hours to find buried treasure.”

      “Okay.” This was all happening so fast. Robin. I haven’t seen him since grade school. Actually, I only talked to him once in grade school. Why the hell does he need me now?

“I should also tell you that I have five hours left to complete my mission, and by mission I mean quest. By the way, duck.” Bullets penetrated his back windshield, and I ducked. Robin kept my head down as he pulled out his pistol and fired back. I heard a loud screech and then an explosion. I had no idea what was happening. I got up and slammed into the passenger’s side window. Robin was making an extreme turn around a corner. When I recovered I saw the sun setting on the horizon. Robin hit the accelerator. I thought that there was a straight road ahead, but I was mistaken. There was a beach. We careened off of a boardwalk and crashed into the sand. I got out, and I saw Robin standing there.

      “This is it.” He was looking at a literal treasure chest, somehow miraculously thrusted out of the sand by the front of the car. The sun had set. “And with four hours left to spare!”

      I got up and asked Robin a few questions. “Robin! What the hell is happening? Why are you here? What do you want from me?!” As soon as I asked that, I heard the click of a gun come from the direction of the boardwalk. I turned around to be met with the sight of bright flashlights being held by burly men.

      “I guess you’re entitled to an explanation. I am a treasure hunter. It’s rare to find one of us nowadays. This treasure belongs to the mafia. They hired me to find it, against my will, of course (as is often the case with these guys). They threatened me with the loss of the one that I loved.”

      “Wha—what?”

      “It’s you Stacey. Ever since grade school, I’ve been in love with you. I can’t explain it, but then again, who can?”