Immediately Forgettable

Chapter 4

Actually, I came to in front of the police station. The car had just come to a stop, and the two officers exited the vehicle. I would have jumped out as well, but there were no door handles where I was sitting.

I was helped out and escorted into the building. My hands were cuffed behind my back, and, even though my fingers were feeling tingly, I didn't complain. One officer was dragging me along by my arm, which he had grabbed right above my elbow. He was a good looking guy. About six feet tall, thick dark hair that was cut close to his head. Big brown eyes with a dark unibrow above them.

He seemed to be well liked -- everyone said hello to him and smiled as we passed. His name was Mike, as in "Hey Mike," "S'up Mike," and "Yo Mikey."

This was someone I could be. As part of my regular invisible life, I often imagined myself as someone else. A few years back I took to envisioning select people that I saw, trying to imagine what it must be like to be right there in the moment I was watching them.

Me as Mike walked proudly, confidently. Flirtatious with the lady officers even with the unibrow, although Me as Mike would have taken care of that before leaving the house.

Mike dropped me in a bench and walked over to talk to someone in an office who was wearing a regular suit and not a uniform like Mike was. Me as Mike would never take any crap from the suits.

He came back for me, guided me off the bench, and brought me to a tiny room holding a small table and two chairs. A big mirror was the only thing that broke up the drab green of the walls. Of course, being the Law & Order fan that I am, knew that the mirror was two-way, and I shouldn't do anything embarrassing in this room.

Mike undid my cuffs and shoved me gently into one of the chairs. He cuffed my left hand to the table.

"The Feds are coming for you. Be here in a bit," he said in a voice that should have been an octave or two lower. Me as Mike would deal with it. Mike left the room, leaving me alone -- except for anyone watching me through the mirror.

I noticed there was a trashcan in the corner of the room, which is good because I still felt as though I would throw up any second now. I thought if I leaned over I could reach it with my foot and pull it over to me. I couldn't, but it was a good distraction and, before I knew it, an hour had passed.

No Feds, no visitors, and, most important, no puke.

Officer Mike poked his head in the room and, in his sing-song voice, said, "The Feds'll be here in ten more minutes."

It turned out to be more like another hour.