CHAPTER 14 : Confusing Plot

Jazz music played, filling the room with a calm atmosphere.  A young man in school uniform sat on one of the chairs.  While a man sat across the table.

 The sound of the music, blended with the paper touching each other as the man turned the newspaper in his hand.  For a moment it was the only sound that filled the space between them, and it had been about fifteen minutes.

 "If there's something you want to say, just say it.  What's the point of looking at me like that?"

 Once again such a polite sentence.  It was as if they were playing a role in a black and white documentary set in the eighties.

 "Don't mind me, I'm just trying to find out what kind of man you are."  Deandra waved a hand to confirm his words.

 A second later, the man across the table folded the sheet of newspaper that had originally covered half of his face.  Then looked through the lenses of round glasses right at Deandra across the table.

 "If you're that curious, why don't you just ask?"  challenged the man while placing the folded newspaper on the table.

 "I'm just not interested in wasting energy by asking questions that aren't necessarily answered correctly."  Dean shrugged his shoulders with a sinister smile.

 Drops of water trickled down of the glass on the table.  A real sign that the chunks of ice in it have melted, and maybe soon will make the drinks that are stored there tasteless.

 But unfortunately, neither of these two men were interested in glancing at the drinks on the table.  As if drunk on each other, neither of them wanted to take their eyes off them.

 "You know?  This is what attracted me to you."  The man smiled, then continued his sentence.

 "You didn't ask who I was, you didn't even look curious about why I was here.  Even from day one, you didn't talk much.  Not looking flustered - ah, except when you see your father again for the first time."

 Deandra's emotions were slightly triggered when the man across the table brought up about his father.  But what was engraved on this young man's face was quite different.  He smiled, even seeming casual.

 "Well… that one was a surprise.  Good job Fatamorgana."  Dean praised.  His hand reached out to reach for the drink on the table then twirled the straw idly before drinking it.

 "Oh?  You already know?"  The man – who was nothing but a Fatamorgana, blinked and looked on with a look of contrived surprise.

 "It would be stupid if I didn't know."  Dean replied with a sarcastic snort.  While putting the glass back on the table.

 "And again, is this your habit?  Imprisone people who comment badly on your work? What an uncool way of revenge."  Dean snorted at the end of his sentence.  Then put on an annoyed face that also looks made up.

 Responding to Deandra's attitude, Fatamorgana couldn't help but snort in amusement while covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

 "Not really, if you want to know, actually I'm a picky person."  He said proudly.

 Across the table, Deandra raised an eyebrow as a sign that he doubts the truth of Fatamorgana's words.  But at the same time he also didn't want to waste energy trying to refute that man in their insignificant conversation.

 "Then?  Why did you show up?  Why after three weeks?"  this time Dean got into the main question and the reason why he came to that man.

 "You look like you're having fun. At first I didn't want to bother you."  For a moment Fatamorgana interrupted the answer as he opened the newspaper in his hand.

 "But right now I'm going through a crisis, so I hope you'll help me out."  he continued.

 "What kind of crisis can a writer like him go through?"  Fatamorgana's words triggered questions in Deandra's mind.

 With his arms folded across his chest, Dean looked suspiciously at him.  His lips were tight to listen to what Fatamorgana would say next.  Meanwhile, the man across the table put a newspaper in the middle of the table.  Then less than a second later, he changed.

 "You know?  I'm working on a new novel.  This time the theme is crime!  I was inspired by Sherlock Holmes!  therefore I was trying to find inspiration by reading the murder cases in the newspaper.  But I can't guess who did it!  You can help me right?!"  Suddenly Fatamorgana spoke at length and excitedly like a child.

 His attitude surprised not only Deandra but also the few remaining visitors around them.  Some started to look because of the Fatamorgana that spoke in a loud voice –

 "What?"

 "Eh, that's the kid from earlier right?"

 "So noisy!"

 – and some started whispering while looking at Deandra.

 Dean had a look of disbelief on his face.  A second later, he looked very annoyed.  Even his eyebrows knit together in response to the excited look on his face and the innocent smile that Fatamorgana showed him.

 "You're kidding me, right?"  Dean hissed.

 Realizing that he was not getting the response he wanted, Fatamorgana gave up and immediately stopped the charade.  The grown man's innocent smile slowly turned into a little sly and disdain.  Before long, Fatamorgana withdrew and sat back quietly.

 "I'm not kidding.  I'm actually working on a crime novel right now."  He said denying.

 Fatamorgana busied himself with drinking back his drink.  Meanwhile, despite being very reluctant, in the end Deandra's gaze fell on the newspaper sheets on the table.  A strange face of a woman was seen there, and under the face was written a brief description of the woman's name, age, time and place of death.

 "Beautiful woman, right?  Too bad she died young.  But I'm sure there must be a great talented man out there who will fight to reveal and catch the person who killed that woman.  A man who is perfectly suited to be the main character in a crime novel.  You think I can find him somewhere?"  Fatamorgana spoke at length while twisting the straw with his right thumb and forefinger.

 "Which one is there?  Even Sherlock Holmes will only work if someone pays him."  Deandra commented curtly.

 Fatamorgana chuckled when he heard that.

 "You're right.  Because if there was, there's no way you'd be imprisoned for ten years."

 Dean furrowed his brows again.  Fatamorgana spoke so casually as if the information was legal for him to know.  Once again, his attitude made Deandra wonder who this Fatamorgana really was.

 "And somehow, the relationship between father and son is not always good in all stories.  Maybe that's why it's attractive.  Maybe they're hiding a fact."  Fatamorgana said while looking at the glass in his hand.  It was as if he was talking to himself right now.

 "What are you talking about?"  Dean asked sarcastically.  He didn't understand at all what the man across the table was talking about.

 Instead of answering, Fatamorgana chose to turn the conversation in another direction.  This time his gaze was fixed on the sheet of newspaper on the table.

 "The first chapter of my crime novel is almost finished.  I want you to be the first to read and judge.  I hope you like the main character that I made in this story."  When he said that, Fatamorgana smiled sincerely.

 "Well… I don't mind anyway.  After all, it's my job."  Deandra shrugged nonchalantly.

 Then, their conversation stopped there.  While the night was getting late and teenagers didn't usually go out at this hour, Deandra actually spent his time playing guess killer games with the man who was supposed to be the enemy.

 Then it didn't feel like the drinks on the table had run out and didn't even leave a single ice in it.  The two empty glasses on the table were a signal for these two men to end their game.  Although he had forgotten for a moment, Dean finally realized that he was still in the body of a high school student.

 His watch showed nine o'clock at night when they finally stepped out of the cafe.  The sound of passing vehicles was audible.  Even though it was night, mobility continued as if reluctant to wait for the sun to rise again.

 "I will soon finish the chapter and give it to you."

 "I can't wait for that."

 They smiled back at each other.  It was as if the two of them were now good friends and had known each other for a long time.

 "By the way since I'm poor now, I guess I should thank you for the treat."  Dean said jokingly.

 Fatamorgana chuckled when he heard that.

 "Take time to thank your girl friend too."  Advice.

 Dean just nodded.  Then he turned and walked away without saying goodbye.  What for?  After all, their age difference is not that far.  he thought.

 "Oh Deandra! I forgot to tell you this."

 Fatamorgana's word made Dean stop in his tracks.  He turned his head for a moment and realized that they weren't that far apart.

 "Even in real life, quiet times don't last forever.  So be prepared."  Fatamorgana flashed a mysterious smile.

 "What's that means?"  Dean's mind wondered.

 But instead of expressing his question for real, Dean prefers to ignore Fatamorgana's words and continue his journey away from the man.

 Meanwhile, Fatamorgana – still with a smile that has not left his face, also turned around and then walked away in the opposite direction.  They really split up there.

 Or not.  Dean is not a stupid man.  When he heard Fatamorgana's steps away, Dean suddenly stopped walking and turned around.  Then unexpectedly he ran as fast as he could to catch up to the Fatamorgana.

 Even so, Dean was a second late.  When he turned to look, the man had just turned behind one of the buildings.  And when he ran after him, even though he was behind the building less than ten seconds later.

 "What the-?"

 There was nothing there but a dead end.  The gap between the two buildings that Fatamorgana had originally entered was a dead end that even a mouse would get stuck in if it entered.  But strangely, the man was not there.

 To be continued....