Ataxia

eighteen

Sander

2069

The bowling ball crashed into the pins noisily and I expected to make a strike, but only knocked down five pins. I'm pretty sure I got some strange stares when I checked into the bowling alley by myself. Sure, not many bowled by themselves because it was a game to have competition with other people, but I felt bowling could be played by yourself. Especially when you're an introvert at an empty bowling alley at midnight.

I took off my bowling shoes, putting my socks in my back pocket and slipped on my sandals. When I put my bowling ball away, I turned around, nearly bumping into a young woman behind me.

"Sorry to disturb you," she said sweetly. She was probably only eighteen, barely starting college. "But can you please tell me where the bathroom is, sir? The night shift guy fell asleep." She giggled a little as if it was a joke. Falling asleep on the job was funny? I certainly didn't think so. I really didn't want to deal with college girls at the moment, but I forced manners into my words. "It's in the back of the store. Girls on the left. Goodnight." I started to leave before she stopped me again. What did she want now?

"I have a really bad sense of direction," she said again very innocently. "Can you actually guide me there if you don't mind?"

Again, I really didn't want to deal with college girls at the moment. But I forced respectfulness and kindness into my actions and words with a simple, "Come on." I guided her towards the restroom in the back. It wasn't far, but she had a really bad sense of direction? She would not get around her university well at all. But all I had to do was to act as if I was enjoying myself and ignore the optimistic remarks of freshmen. I remembered when I graduated into sophomore year, that all the freshmen were extremely annoying, always asking for directions and everything.

"Can I ask you a quick question?" She asked, still smiling that non-pessimistic smile of hers.

"You just asked one."

"Well, another one."

"Alright."

"Why are you at a bowling alley at midnight?"

That was the one question I didn't want her to ask. "That's none of your concern." I replied coldly, trying not to let my anger surface.

"Well it's certainly Dr. Radcliffe's concern." Her voice changed, now sounding much different as if she had a terrible cold. As I turned around, my jaw fell open. Where the freshman was once standing was now a man with a snarling stare and a gun. "Please, doctor. Don't lie to me."

"H-how do you know who I am?" I backpedaled, trying to escape slowly and stealthily.

"Oh, you're widely known to all those who know and work for Radcliffe. He completely ruined your reputation in the short time increment of a year." The shape-shifting man edged closer with the intimidating gun in his hands, looking disappointed. "If you actually stayed loyal, you might still be alive in the next few minutes."

Bang!

I bolted. I headed for the front doors as the gunshots fired. I ran in a zig-zag line to the door, but not without spotting something horrifying. The night shift cashier was lying on the counter, dead. Blood leaked from his temple, his eyes blank and mouth hanging open. Was that ... was that was she or he meant by "fell asleep"?

"Come back here, freak!" The guy shouted as I came outside into the parking lot of the bowling alley.

I didn't own a car, I sold it in order to pay off my apartment. So I walked here. Sadly, I was pretty sure the bad guy had a car. Then the blood-curdling sounds of wailing sirens were raised in the distance.

"Not cops, not now." I moaned. "Go away, fuzz."

The apartments nearby must have reported the sounds of gunshots and now the force was on their way. Police cars raced to the scene and I desperately ran out of the large parking lot. The police poured out of the cars, suddenly arresting the man with the gun. The shooter cursed as he was shoved into the back seat. Serves him right.

"Sir!" One of the officers shouted. "Put your hands in the air!"

So now I was the one doing the shooting? I didn't even have a gun.

Be-beep!

I darted my head towards the car horn and saw a lime-green Kia in the corner of the lot, all the lights on. I recognized that ugly-colored car, it was Leah! I darted towards the small car. The officer was merely a few feet away from me before I dived into the front seat. Once I was in the car, she stepped on the gas pedal, hard, and we sped off into the busy night. I quickly sat upright and tried to buckle my seatbelt in. She took a hard right turn just when I was about to buckle the belt in. I had an eerie feeling she did it on purpose. I finally put the seatbelt on.

"Care to do some explaining, Sander?" She shouted as they took a bracing stop.

"What explaining?" I yelled a little louder than I meant to, throwing my arms in the air. "I'm practically traumatized! I was just attacked by this guy who was trying to kill me with a gun!"

"I was just attacked by a gun," she mimicked my voice, doing a horrible job. "Most ataxias can survive gun wounds, Sander. Even near the heart." She slapped me in the back of the head. "Use that master's degree head of yours!"

"Fine, fine," I muttered, crossing my arms and looked out the window. It had been years since I last talked to Leah. In fact, she blocked me a couple months after Gale was murdered. When they were teens, Gale and Leah were best friends, inseparable. After Gale was ruthlessly killed by Radcliffe, Leah saw it as my fault. I was lucky she decided to save my butt from the fuzz. "Look, Leah." I started awkwardly. "I'm really sorry about what happened with Ga --"

"Don't even mention her name," she stopped me mid sentence harshly. "You have no right to."

"Leah, I'm not trying to make you mad or anything --" I insisted.

"Well, you're giving me the wrong impression!" She yelled, stopping her car suddenly. "She warned you, Sander. You ignored her warnings time and time again and did you listen? No! For goodness sake, why did you have to do it? Why did you have to apply for that stupid job?" She began driving normally again.

The car went silent. Only the engine was making a noise. "I get it," I said after a while. "You hate me. But I'm really sorry, okay? I was sometimes a total jerk to Gale but I'll be different in the future, okay?" I paused for a second. "And thanks for saving me from the police."

"Yeah, because I'm so nice," she smirked. "Listen, I'm getting you outta town. You're being hunted after again and I'm taking you to P.A.I. Agency. I'll provide you with a place until you can afford your own. We're leaving immediately. Because I'm so nice."

"Oh, Leah," I groaned. "We need to go back to my apartment,"

"What, why?"

"I forgot something very valuable. We need to go back and get it." I muttered, rubbing my head as if I had a migraine.

"Forget it," I said. "We're not going back to get it."

"You don't understand, Leah." I said quietly as if I was embarrassed. "There is a child back in my apartment."