I Am Ezra (Complete)

Strange New Faces

Break time, at least for most people. I stand, and make my way to the end of the room. There is a generic water jug, where everyone can drink from a paper cup. It's very cliche, but I like to drink from this, and hang out in front of it. The water jug gossip is a real thing, and it's interesting to hear how people act in different situations. When I approach the jug, there is a man leaning up against it. I have never seen this man before, not in this office, not in my life. No one told me there was a new-hire, was I going to have to train him? I take a plastic cup into my hand, and put it under the nozzle. The water pours out, making a satisfying noise as it filled the cup. I brought it to my lips, and took a sip. The cold water coursed down my throat cooled off my stomach for a few seconds. Refreshing? Maybe. I sat there pondering what the water felt like to me, and how it would impact my life. The man next to me did almost the exact same thing I did. He was very strange looking. He looks sly, and smug, a smile across his face, a small mole on his left cheek, and a mop of brown hair around the top of his head. His arms are extremely long in comparison to his body, and his composure is not of a regular person's. He finishes his gulp of water and crumples up the cup.

"Feeling good today?" He says to me, the smug grin never leaving his face. I am startled by this question, as no one usually speaks to me, let alone in this manner. I finish my cup of water, and bite my lip. The man tosses his cup at the nearest trash can, misses, and laughs to himself. "Sorry, forgot to introduce myself" He says, wiping some stray water lingering on his lip away. "Henry Molyneux" A hand stretches out in my direction, an indication that I must grasp it and shake. I do just that, and we share a very firm grip together, before letting go a few seconds later.

"Ezra" I respond back to him coolly. He chuckles at this, and his eyes meet mine. They are a strange shade of blue and grey, I have never seen it before.

"Do you have a last name? Or should I just call you by your first?" He says again. This perplexes me. I never thought about that, what is my last name? I really cannot remember any indication that I have a last name. I produce my cellular phone from my pocket and hold up a finger toward Henry to signify that I need a moment. He nods an understanding nod and I flip through different places in the internet, before reaching my work account. I go into my account, info, and there it is.

"... Clark" I say sheepishly. Henry smiles at this again, and nods.

"A pleasure, Ezra Clark" He says to me. "Now, feeling good today?" I think about these words again, and ponder what he really is trying to convey. I go through everything my mind can muster up in these few seconds before answering a simple;

"Yes" Cold and calm, just the way I am. Henry stares at me for a few seconds. He eyes me down like a teacher looking at a student who had just been caught cheating. Have I said something wrong? I wonder this, before he replies.

"I would like to hear the truth, Ezra" He says to me, the smug grin appearing on his face again. I look at him, puzzled. How am I supposed to respond to this? This man is making me jump through conversational hoops that I've never had to avoid before. But in my heart I know what he means. It was extremely hard to discern through the context of what is considered human decency anymore. Henry wants the truth, he wants what I am really thinking. He doesn't just want a feeble answering masquerading my tortured soul beneath. I suppose I have never really come by someone as bold as this, or someone who is considered bold by these standards today. I sigh a little, and Henry awaits anxiously for a response.

"I..." I start, biting my lip as I try to articulate what to say. "I yearn" I finish.

"Yearn for what?" Henry says. To this I do not respond. It makes me question myself, makes me question my own judgement. The simple question of what is always on my mind. What do I want, what do I need, what is good for me? It is utterly meaningless in comparison to what is right, what is the world, the universe. He can tell that he has forced me deep in thought. "Like most people, you yearn for the freedom of the ancient man" He said to me. There it was, almost right on the money. "You yearn for a freedom not allowed by modern constraints. You wish to be one with your soul, and mind" I was beginning to have mixed feelings towards Henry, but I nodded anyway. He went on "You only lack one thing. One vital asset to your otherwise perfect state of mind. A plan" This causes me to peer up at him in bewilderment. A plan? What did he mean by that. By now, my mind is racing with many different questions. Questions that I feel I will never be able to ask, lest we be here all night. "I have a plan" He continues. "And it is perfect for you. But I require something from you"