"William Lynch"
by Michael Dell

CHAPTER THREE

Saturday. The day after. William regained consciousness around four in the afternoon. After rushing through the usual routine, he had the immediate impulse to go knock on Meghan's door. That plan was scrapped. He didn't want to appear desperate. He wanted to play it cool. Yet at the same time he didn't want to seem uninterested. Tough call.

After considering all the options, William decided it might be best to have a planned "accidental" meeting. He'd simply wait by his door until he heard hers open, then he'd walk out and pretend to be surprised to see her. Ingenious. It was with great pride that he sat down against the door and began his vigil.

The first two hours went by rather quickly. It was the third one that seemed to drag. He found himself checking the clock in four-minute intervals. Then the phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Billy."

"What up, Norm?"

"Not much."

"I'm kind of busy at the moment..."

"I just wanted to let you know that my cousin can't give us the van for three weeks. His band is playing some out-of-town shows the next few weekends."

"The van? Oh yeah, the Big Boy. My bad. Yeah, that's cool. We can postpone things a bit. Hey, I really have to get going..."

"I was thinking we could still go scout it out tomorrow night."

"Okay, yeah, whatever. Just give me a call."

William hung up the phone and returned to his vigilant position at the door. The minutes weren't exactly falling away; each one needed a rather severe shove. It was times like these that he wished he owned some magazines. William rested his forehead on his folded arms and began studying the carpet. He should really try and fix that vacuum. Then he heard it.

He sprung to his feet and did his best to try and casually open the door. He disguised his anxiousness by staring at the ground as he stepped into the hall, as if he was in deep reflective thought over the plight of homeless leprechauns. When he finally did adjust his gaze to eye level, it focused on an unfamiliar face, an unfamiliar male face.

"Hey..." said the stranger. He was about two inches taller and appeared some fifty pounds heavier than William, meaning he was roughly the ideal weight for his height. His dark blond hair was cropped short and he was wearing a dressy black leather jacket over a dark green sport shirt and belted khaki slacks. Yes, that's right. This guy actually owned a belt.

Doing little to hide his surprise, at the man and not just the belt, William was slow to respond. He finally countered with a, "How's it goin'?"

Meghan appeared behind the mystery man. She looked amazing. Dressed with more style than William had originally given her credit, she was sporting a loose black skirt to the knees, black stockings, and a charcoal grey sweater. It was the first time William had ever seen her in anything other than jeans and a T-shirt. He liked it. He also couldn't help but notice the apprehension on her face. Fearing that the situation could get ugly if not handled properly, he decided to use a little strategy.

"So, you must be my new neighbors," he said, extending his hand to the still unidentified man.

"Actually, she is." The guy sent a relaxed point Meghan's direction. "I'm just the boyfriend."

"Oh," William offered his hand to Meghan. "Welcome to the building. My name's William."

Meghan shook his hand coolly. "Meghan."

"Nice to meet you, Meghan."

"And this is Mark."

"Hi, Mark." The two rivals shook hands. He had a firm handshake. He also wore a ring of some sort. A ring? William didn't know anyone that wore rings, although he had seen "Ocean's Eleven" about five times. That Sammy Davis Jr. could dance like a son of a bitch. "I was just on my way down to check my mail."

"We'll walk you down," smiled Mark. The threesome began to make their way down the stairs. Mark and Meghan went first. As he trailed a few steps behind, all William could think about was how he wished it were his arm around her waist.

When they reached the bottom of the first flight of stairs, Mark turned and asked, "You lived here long?"

"About two years."

"What kind of place is it? I was a bit worried about her moving in here."

"There's nothing to worry about. It's pretty quiet."

"I'm glad to hear it." Mark gave Meghan a playful squeeze. She remained silent. Mark said something else, but it didn't really register to William. Whatever it was he must not have expected a response. When they reached the main entrance, Mark spoke up again.

"It started raining." He opened the door a bit and turned to Meghan. "I had to park on the other side of the lot. Wait here and I'll bring the car around."

"Okay," she said.

"Nice meeting you, William."

"Yeah, you too."

William quit fidgeting with his mailbox lid long enough to watch Mark slice his way across the parking lot.

"He seems like a nice guy."

"He is," answered Meghan, still staring out the window at the falling rain.

"Where you guys going?"

"Just out to dinner... maybe a movie." She still didn't look at William.

Mark put the forced exchange out of its misery by pulling up to the door in a car a whole hell of a lot nicer than an '89 Pontiac LeMans. As Meghan began to leave, Mark hustled around to open up her passenger side door.

"Have a good time," offered William, even though there really wasn't much sentiment behind the words.

This time Meghan did look back. "Thanks." Then she was gone. Mark shut her door for her and waved at William as he hurried back to the driver's side. William couldn't help but return the wave. He watched their car pull away and began the long walk home.

Back in his apartment, William was trying to come to grips with the situation. He really didn't have the right to complain. After all, he knew what he was getting into. He knew that she had a boyfriend. While he wanted to be with her, he had to respect the reality of the situation. The next move would have to be hers.

He tried to occupy himself with his mail, even going so far as to read two pieces addressed to "Resident." The only letter that had his name on it was from National City Bank. It was his statement. As of September 5, he had exactly $116.32 to his name. Hard to get happy after that one.

Aside from the usual $20 ATM transactions for food and the $9 penalty for account maintenance, there was one glaring deduction of $308.37 credited to Stan Baker's Sports. It couldn't be helped. It was something that he needed. Since it had to do with his art, he figured he could write it off, if he paid taxes.

William filed the bank statement away with his other important documents, which pretty much meant he crumpled it up and tossed it in the garbage.

He sat down on the couch. What now? His thoughts returned to Meghan. He did his best to turn them away. With no other option at hand, he decided to concentrate his attention on the Big Boy. What the hell? It was better than staring at a blank canvas.

Even though it had been years since the plot was first discussed, William had no problem recalling how he felt the mission should go. He always had enormous confidence that his plan would work. Now he'd just have to figure out a way to explain it to the rest of the crew.

A map of the area was needed. He considered painting one but saw no point in breaking his creative slump on something as trivial as this. Instead he ripped out a page from the back of a hammered old notebook that he seemed to have since grade school and began sketching a rough depiction of the battlefield.

The Elby's in question was located along a business strip of I-79. Two lanes of traffic going each way, one into downtown Hadleyville and the other rolling through nearby Youngwood and all points east. During the day it was a mad free for all. But at 4:08 AM on a Sunday night, it should be ripe for the picking.

The target was flanked by businesses on either side, to the right was a Mister Donut and a Dollar Bank, to the left a Burger King. None of them would cause concern. Directly behind the Elby's was a medical building and a storage facility. They could be reached by an auxiliary road that branched off from Covington Street, which shot out from South Hadleyville and intersected I-79. This tributary allowed rear access for patrons of both Elby's and the Burger King. To the conspirators, it would be their yellow brick road.

There was only one business across from Elby's. It sold mobile homes. The rest of the space was taken up by an exit ramp that wrapped around and spun to an overpass that eventually led to Westmoreland Mall. In Hadleyville, all roads lead to the mall.

The Big Boy itself stood on the far left corner of the restaurant's front walk, facing the I-79 traffic. It was definitely exposed. Word was that it wasn't even anchored down. It was pretty much asking to be kidnapped. Bruno Hauptmann wouldn't even have needed the ladder.

The map was complete. It may not have been a work of art, but who knows? If signed, maybe someday it could fetch stacks and stacks of folding green, but now it was just a piece of tattered paper covered with crooked lines of blue ink. It would do the job.

With the rest of the details outlined in his head, William broke for some food. Since he always baked his potatoes, he'd have to start preparation a good hour and a half, two hours before he actually ate. Planning ahead was crucial. He'd generally peel three potatoes, bake them in foil, and then mash the hell out of them. He'd also fire up some rice to go with it. He only ate one meal a day, so he liked to make it a good one.

He spent the time waiting for the potatoes to cook watching Saturday Night Live. It sucked. He still watched the whole thing. Afterwards he stumbled across a showing of "The Blues Brothers." Ray Charles was getting everyone to shake their tail feathers as he started his meal.

It was now 2:12 in the AM. William was so busy listening to Cab Calloway sing the praises of Minnie the Moocher, he almost didn't hear Meghan's door close. He wasn't sure if she was alone or not. He went to the window in an effort to try and find Mark's car in the parking lot but couldn't tell for sure. He decided to go for a walk.

It wasn't uncommon for William to venture outside for a late constitutional. He liked to walk at night. It was always peaceful, nobody around to cause worry.

The sky was clear, but the ground was wet from the evening's earlier rain. The weather was still warm enough that he didn't need to bother with a coat. The ever-present flannel shirt was enough protection from the elements.

His journey was only a few steps old before he found Mark's car parked on the side of the building. Meghan wasn't spending the night alone. That realization made William want to walk even more. He winded his way out of the apartment complex, across the main road, and into the neighboring residential area.

There didn't seem to be another soul in the world. No cars passed. Few lights, if any, were on in the houses. It was dead. William felt comfortable.

His mind began to wander away from the girl across the hall. He began contemplating the lives of the people hidden away in the stone boxes. He imagined that the walls were stripped away. Would so many different individuals still choose to live in such close proximity without their man-made barriers? He tried to envision a time when they'd all be gathered around one tribal fire, a time before radio and television, before toasters and clock radios, before dental appointments and mechanic bills, a time when people truly lived together. Now, even though a few thin layers of bricks and wood were all that separated them, these people were no more a part of each other's lives than the morning weather man on channel six. Such is the existence of the modern day house ape.

The landscape itself was different than when he was a kid. The hill above the houses in question used to be lush with vegetation. Several years ago men in machines came and cleared out the hillside. They uprooted trees and leveled the ground in order to construct a new welfare office. No one questioned it. Now a whole new generation of kids didn't know that there was once a forest where the government building stands.

But that's the way change is. It happens slowly over time. The people that witness the alteration rarely take notice, while the generations that follow never doubt its existence. Every young child will now grow up thinking that the welfare office was always there. They won't even consider the workers that built it or the land that was savaged. It always was and always will be. One day something's here, the next it's gone. The world keeps spinning.

William's thoughts often drifted to the subject of religion when he was caught striding beneath the darkened heavens on a quiet night. He was raised Catholic and attended a Catholic grade school. While he strived to be a good person, William gave up on religious faith long ago. Instead, he looked at life as a meaningless, random occurrence full of disappointment and false hope. When he was a little kid he used to say prayers before he went to sleep at night. Now he drifted off watching taped episodes of "Columbo." To him, that somehow seemed like a natural progression.

If he was truly so cold in thought and emotion, why was he letting this thing with Meghan get to him? He tried to write it off as just sex. He had sex with her so naturally he'd want to have more sex with her. It was merely a physical need, plain and simple. That's why he pursued her, that's why he hated to think of her with another man, and that's why he hoped to see her again. It was physical. That's all. Honest. At least that's what he was trying to convince himself.

His internal conflict was interrupted by a distant noise that called him back to real life. It was the far off rumbling of a locomotive. Hadleyville was somewhat famous for its connection to trains. The town used to be big in the rail industry in the early 1900s, with coal passing through its borders on a routine basis. Travelers knew the city as a stopover on the way to Philadelphia. While not many people rode the rails anymore, supply trains would still run through town most every night. They'd roll at all hours. Unless you lived in the immediate vicinity of the tracks, their passage went relatively unnoticed. Although, William did recall his grandfather once telling him that the nocturnal schedule of the trains was the main reason he and his wife had seven kids.

The train soon left William to his silent world. He spent the walk home kicking the same rock. When he reached the driveway to his apartment complex he deposited his traveling companion with the other gravel and flew solo the rest of the way. As he trudged around the final bend in the trail he could see that there were no lights on in Meghan's apartment. This somehow came as a disappointment to him, as if he thought Mark and Meghan would stay up all night debating whether or not the Rebecca years of "Cheers" were equal to the storied Diane Era.

A few hours later he was falling asleep, still trying to convince himself that he really didn't care for her. In the background, Peter Falk was asking, "One more thing..."