Dungeon

CHAPTER 4 - UNLIKELY ALLIANCE

Bryan turned around to locate the source of the clapping noise. There he saw an old man in his middle years, aged around 50–60, frail in appearance yet glaring and bold as if he were in his early prime. His instincts gushed in, which made him sure of the thought that this man was none other than the intruding caller early this morning. For some reason, his temples started hurting again, and distraught visions rushed in of the man gunning himself down, a humble lady collapsing on the floor, and most of all, that weird maniacal grin. Just then a warm, frail hand touched his forehead, and for a second he thought that this was the touch of God, as the pain and the void visions vanished away in thin air.

He was thankful for that, yet at the same time, he couldn't control the anger within himself. Before he could react, he felt his mouth utter the words he wanted to say. "Who are you?! What do you want? Why did you try to contact me, and most of all, why on earth would you want to send a man after me? And you mentioned something about my medical reports? What is it? Are you a random prankster or..."

Before he could continue further, Arnold cut him short. "Woah, there kid, slow down for god's sake, will you? After all, I'm not a young lad for my poor little brain to capture words and answer them as fast as the New York Express." Chuckling to himself, he extended the same old frail hand towards the boy in front of him with an expression of warmth, sorrow, and despair, as if there was a whole long story behind that handshake. But to his dismay, Bryan ignored his handshake with a stern expression on his face, which clearly said that he was not interested in creating a new bond as seen in movies with a random old stranger.

Bryan expected the man to giggle or dismiss the awkward rejection, but to his dismay, the expression on the old man's face weakened. His smile faded as if a boy's love had been taken away from him. Something on the man's face told him that he should listen to what he had to say, and for the first time in his life, Bryan regretted his action. Sensing the awkward situation before them, fast like lightning, Arnold regained his posture, which surprised Bryan so much that he has never seen anyone regain their expression so fast. The ability to hide one's emotions overwhelmed him so much that he actually feared that he might develop a strange liking for the old man.

"Why don't we talk over a cup of cappuccino? Nice weather, you see; it would be a shame if we didn't start the morning routine without a cup of coffee." Bryan didn't reply but gave a cold nod, which, to his surprise, brought about a beam of smile on the old man's wrinkled face. Arnold walked behind Bryan, but he was aware that the boy kept a vigilant watch on his footsteps. Like father, like son, he thought to himself.

New York was bustling with people as the sun shone brightly above their heads. Cafes were busily packed with people, many of them taking a quick booster before returning back to their hectic work desks. Bryan motioned to a small café far across the street, which wasn't quite busy, and clearly even the baristas were not to be seen. Bryan sensed that the footsteps behind him stopped and turned back to see the expression on the man's face, which clearly didn't surprise him at all. Before Arnold could speak, he cut him off. "Not everyone's Bill Gates, you see."

A flush of embarrassment washed over his face. That's when he actually gave a good look to the 17-year-old before him. Unkempt wavy hair, mudded clothes, worn-out shoes, and yet a strikingly handsome appearance. "I..I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to say..." Something told Bryan that this might be the first time the man had ever stuttered when he spoke. "I thought we would start our conversation before a cup of cappuccino." With that said, he gestured to a seat away from the dusty window, clearly uninterested in seeing all those people with their cheesy, happy lives right outside.

Even though the weather was warm, it felt like ice cold as tensions grew between both of them when they sat face-to-face at the café table. Arnold couldn't help but smile after all the months of trying to find this lad paid off. The ambience wasn't the exact thing he had pictured to break out information, but at the moment he thought it sufficed. Clearing his throat, he managed to speak.

Arnold said, "I know it's quite weird when a random caller just calls you up early in the morning and says stuff, but hey, great fight out there."

Bryan clearly appeared uninterested in small talk. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

Arnold knew that unlike other lads, this one was clearly different. Straight to business—now that's what I call professionalism. But before he could interrupt, a girl around 18 came along with a huge clipboard studded and made clanking noises that came from her high heels. She was somewhere around 5'2 and had makeup washed all over her face as if she were going to star in the Who Wants to Be the Next Spook series. She ignored Arnold and looked instantly at the messy yet handsomely built boy next to him.

"Hey handsome, may I know what's the order for today?" She fluttered her eyes so much that, for an instant, Bryan thought her fake lashes might come out. Rolling his eyes, he set out a $10 bill with a thud on the coffee table, which made the girl take a step back. Clicking her tongue, she gave a frantic look towards the old man as if he were the reason she just got rejected for her screen time, took the bill, and went off, clearly knowing the order as the only item on the menu worth that amount was a cup of steamy cappuccino.

"Got fans, I presume. When I was your age, I hardly received glances from the other side, you know." Arnold chuckled, but the plain, salty look on the lad's face proved to him that he clearly wasn't in a mood to chit-chat about age old stuff. "Let me get this straight, kid. I go by the name Arnold, and I hold the senior-most position in the city, and I'm here to offer you a job. The job of a crime detective."

Bryan felt his nerves wracking and throbbing inside his head. Everything around him was telling him to run away right now. The very word he hated was being brought up, and most of all, it was being offered to him. He tried suppressing his anger, but his adrenaline refused to do so. "ARE YOU TRYING TO PLAY WITH ME?! I DONT KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT JUST GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

His scream shook the entire café, and even the people outside started gathering up to see what the issue was. Strangely, not even a hairline faltered from the man opposite him, which gave him the feeling that he had seen worse screams than this. Arnold leaned forward and whispered in a slow yet icy tone. "What if I say that I know your father?"

The very sentence brought him with a force that made him sit involuntarily back on his chair. My father? "How do you know? Who is he? Is he alive?" Somewhere in his mind, he was praying that his so-called father shouldn't be the one whom he saw in his dreams. The man who ended his life saving his family's.

Arnold shook his head, stating clearly that he wasn't going to give it away easily. "Listen, young man, why don't we strike a deal? You join the force, and I'll tell you your family history in detail, one by one. I would obviously not pressurize you to stay in a place you don't like. Stay for 10 days, and if you don't like it, feel free to leave. But no matter what decision you take, I promise that I will let you know all about yourself and your family."

Bryan knew the obvious answer, but something urged him to stay. He didn't know if that was because of the man's hopeful gaze or of his curiosity to know about his family, but something pulled him back to stay and uncover the truth. After all, the deal isn't that bad, he thought to himself. "Sure, fine! I'll stay, but you've got to keep your promise, and let me tell you, you're trying to play tricks, and it won't do good for the both of us!"

Arnold chuckled and put up a letter clad in royal blue with the New York Police Force symbol on it. Without further talk, he left the café. Bryan tore open the letter and found his posting on it. "Crime Detective. Here we go. At least I won't be jobless." With that, he too left the café, hoping to find a cab that might give him a cheap ride to the police department.

"Hey handsome! Coffee's here; would you like some sug..." Spotting the empty table, she sipped the coffee she had just bought. "No wonder why New York is called the hometown of weirdos".