Extra Human

5: Finding Him

Three long days went by without a sight or a passing thought about the mystery man that currently took over my life. It didn't help that today is the 4th of July, America's Independence Day. There are too many people walking around, too many brains to search in this massive city.

Blue and Red streamers float by the side of the table outside the café I'm sitting in front of. Smells of French fries and cheese steaks mix together in the air, giving the city a familiar scent. The café is on the corner of 16th and Arch Street in downtown Philadelphia right across from Sinclair's main office building. Sitting across the street gives me an advantage of anyone entering and exiting the building. The plan is to find any thought, phrase or word that has anything to do with Paris, me, or glowing green eyes. So far, nothing has come close.

I thought it was a bright idea to start where I knew the man worked. But I realize sitting here camping out and waiting for something to happen in a vast city like this isn't one of my more brilliant plans. As every hour goes by, I lose more hope. Maybe I got it wrong. For all I know, he can be in South Africa by now.

The mid-day sun is hot and dry coming down on me. The ice cream I ordered is starting to melt as I swirl the spoon around to make it more like a vanilla shake. It perfectly reflects my achievements thus far.

I gaze up from my ice cream to see crowds of people in red, white, and blue attire. Kids with little American flags are running around the small park on the other side of the street. Workers in neon vests are gearing up the streets for the city's Independence parade. Just past the park is city hall with Benjamin Franklin standing on top admiring his work. He looks down on the city like a father looking upon his children. I remember from my elementary history classes that Franklin was very curious about humans and their behaviors. I can only imagine if he were still alive what he would think if he were able to study me. For some reason, I don't think he would like what he found.

A loud horn blares into the summer air. People on the street cover their ears and turn to where the bothersome noise is coming from. I do the same and look upon a large floating Abraham Lincoln balloon. Its largeness shades most of the street and its width spans the gap between the buildings. The crowd gapes at the oncoming parade in awe.

It seems even more people show up from ten minutes ago. With so many people, all thoughts are coming into my brain at once. It's like a pressure that builds behind a door and breaks, causing a flood of thoughts once the door can't hold them back anymore. Too many people talking at once, it starts to give me a headache. To avoid my brain exploding, I hum to try to drown out the noise.

One thought sneaks through the cracked door making me lighten up. I focus on this thought and I am taken across the street to the park. The mind is of a small girl who is only five or six year's old sitting on top of her father's shoulders:

"Daddy, what's that?" I tap the balding head of the man I am sitting on top of.

"That, Mary, is Abraham Lincoln. You'll learn about him soon enough," Daddy tells me.

"Was he important?" I ask taking another lick of my ice cream. The melt-y parts get on Daddy's shiny head. I rub it in before he notices.

"Yes, he was very important." Daddy says.

"Well, how comes you aren't a giant balloon? I think you're pretty important." I give Daddy's head a small hug.

"You're too precious, Mary. I hope you stay innocent forever."

My mind cuts out of the girl's thoughts. It reminds me of my father and I. We used to do the same thing when I was able to fit on his shoulders. A pain, like a battering hammer, starts to catch in my throat and I have to blink away the tears forming in my eyes. No matter how hard... Death...I try to suppress my emotions... Death...they always seem to come back...Death...and haunt me.