Falling Into Place (20 page)

“Helen’s in the conference room right now, so I can’t let you in yet,” Timmy said. “All visitors have to be approved by the person they’re coming to see unless you’re on the list. Are you on the list? Did Helen know you were coming or was it a surprise?”

“It’s a surprise, but now I’m thinking that maybe I should wait ‘til she gets home later,” Sidney said.

“If you want, you could wait out here in the lobby with me or like you said, you could wait until you see her at home. Whatever you want,” Timmy said, trying to be helpful.

“Is that the conference room in the back?” Sidney asked.

“Sure is. You can see it from here. See?” the guard said, pointing to the back of the building. “Oh, look there’s Helen with everyone now.”

Sidney stared toward the back and saw the spacious conference room. Helen was at the head of a large dark table giving some kind of presentation to four other people, three men and one woman. Everyone was paying close attention to what she was saying, the woman taking notes in what looked like an oversized binder. There was an erasable white board behind her filled with words and numbers, a portable movie screen set up in the corner, and piles of different colored paper strewn across the table. Looking at his wife in her workplace made him sure coming there was a mistake. Informing her he quit his job in that setting was definitely the wrong thing to do. There was no telling how bad she’d take it.

“Are we cool, Mr. Rosenthal?” Timmy asked. “Really, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“We’re good, Timmy. Don’t give it a second thought, but could you do me a little favor? Don’t tell Helen I stopped by, okay?” Sidney said. “I’ve decided to surprise her with some big news once she gets home so I need you to help me keep it a secret. If she knew I was here, she might figure it out. Can you help me out, buddy?”

“Oh, sure, no problem. Wow, big news. That’s awesome, Mr. Rosenthal!” Timmy said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, the hot dogs I had a bit ago aren’t sitting quite right,” Sidney said as his stomach groaned. “Nature seems to be calling pretty loudly right now. Where’s the men’s room?”

“Right past the tellers, take a left and it’s the first door on the right,” the guard answered.

“Thanks again,” Sidney said. He quickly started walking toward the bathroom, noticing one of the bank customers looking at him. The customer was a tall, well-built man with long blonde hair and chiseled features, reminiscent of Scandinavian royalty or a Norse God. He had a strong air of familiarity about him so Sidney wondered if he was an actor or some other kind of celebrity. Whoever he was, he continued to stare a hole into Sidney as he walked by.
What’s the matter, Sven? Never seen a Jew before?
Sidney thought to himself, a little unnerved by the stranger’s unyielding gaze.

As he passed the last teller, Sidney had his first unobstructed view into the conference room so he stopped at the corner of the hallway to catch a glimpse of Helen again. The meeting seemed to be breaking up, so he watched his wife dismiss the others before beginning to gather the materials she’d used for her presentation. He still marveled at her enduring beauty. For a second, Sidney considered leaving the premises immediately so there was no chance she’d see him, but another large stomach noise convinced him otherwise.

Just before he turned toward the bathroom, he saw a male coworker come up to Helen and put his hand on her ass. She quickly brushed it away and chastised the man, but she didn’t seem too upset about it. In fact, Helen threw her head back laughing and Sidney could tell she was flirting with him. The guy moved in very close, pressing his body against hers and she didn’t resist, instead smiling broadly before looking around to see if anyone was watching. She whispered something in his ear and bit her lower lip. The man grinned and left the room, making sure to turn around twice to leer at her before exiting. Helen fixed her skirt and blouse before going back to work.

Sidney moved down the hall, feeling like someone had just kicked him in the nuts, which made his need for the bathroom even worse. He hurried inside and took the last stall, grimacing from the stomach cramps as he pulled down his pants and boxer shorts before sitting on the toilet. The erstwhile accountant’s eyes watered, but it had nothing to do with his gastric distress. Watching his wife, the love of his life, behave that way was almost more than he could take. He felt angry and betrayed, but in his heart he was starting to face the truth: he’d probably lost Helen long ago, their marriage now nothing more than a convenience for her. The realization crushed him and he wept openly once more.

Despite what he’d seen, Sidney blamed himself more than he blamed Helen. Deep down he knew it was his fault for escaping into his fantasy worlds and not being the man she needed him to be. The timing seemed too cruel, even for his life. He couldn’t believe he’d finally discovered what he needed to do with his life only to lose the only woman he’d ever loved. Maybe there was something he could do? Maybe if he confronted her, he could convince Helen he was different now. If he showed her the man he could be, the man she needed him to be, maybe they could rekindle their love.
Be confident. Be strong. Be in control,
he repeated to himself, over and over.

Suddenly, his stomach problems disappeared and he felt fine. Sidney Rosenthal pulled up his pants and adjusted his belt, ready to march out into the bank and win back his wife. Just as he opened the door to the stall, he heard a loud noise from the interior of the bank. A second later, the Scandinavian guy who’d been eyeing him came running into the bathroom, frantically closed the door behind him and pressed his back up against it. His face was a mask of fear: a slack jaw, pale complexion, eyes wide and panicked beyond reason. When the man realized Sidney was in the room the stranger ran to him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“There’s a madman out there! He shot the guard!” the blonde man screamed. “He’s going to kill everyone!”

“What? What are you talking about?” Sidney replied, his voice rising.

The man’s eyes grew even wider and he put his hands on either side of Sidney’s face. “You! You’re him! You can help!” he screamed.

“I’m who? I don’t know you! I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” Sidney said, knocking the man’s hands off his face and pushing him away.

“You’re that guy...that Jack Wylde guy from the movies!” the man yelled. “Can’t you do something!?”

“Are you out of your god damn mi –” Sidney said, as he turned to the bathroom mirror, stopping in mid-sentence when he saw the reflection. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He knew it was him looking into the mirror, but someone else was staring back at him. He put his nose close to the reflection, poking and pulling at the face he saw, the face of Mark LeClare/Jack Wylde. How could it be? How could he be looking at someone else? How could he
be
someone else?

“You’ve got to help!” the stranger yelled. “Please!”

“Calm down, my good man,” Sidney said in a voice not his own. “Give me a moment and we’ll see what I can do about this rather peculiar situation we find ourselves in.”

As he turned away from the man, Sidney realized that not only did he look like Jack Wylde, he sounded like him, acted like him, even felt like him. He was the confident, charming, in-control super-spy he’d always wanted to be. He smirked into the mirror, his mind thrilling at the sight of that familiar face from his favorite movies looking back at him. He took a few steps back and, much to his surprise, he was now wearing a meticulously tailored, black, three-piece suit. It was exactly like the one worn by Wylde in the movies, so somehow he knew it had to be bulletproof, too. Sidney felt under his left armpit and, sure enough, there was Jack Wylde’s legendary Walther PPK handgun in a shoulder holster. He checked his wrist and found a watch, also an exact match to the secret agent’s timepiece. Sidney was sure it had all the gadgets and weapons in it, too. Despite his confusion about how this could be happening, he marveled at his newfound body and accessories.

“Please, you’ve got to do something,” the blonde man pleaded with him.

“Right you are. Stay here and let me handle this,” he answered firmly.

Sidney pulled out his pistol and walked over to the bathroom door. He listened intently for a moment before peering out. From this vantage point, he couldn’t see much so he soundlessly closed the door and made his way to the end of the hallway across from where he’d watched Helen a little while earlier. Crouching near the far wall, he again waited and listened. He heard people crying and whimpering. After a woman said, “Please, don’t hurt me,” Sidney heard the sound of a hard slap across a face, then a scream. When he finally did take a chance to look around the corner, what he saw shocked him, a lone man standing on top of the service counter waving his arms like a madman, a gun in each hand. That would have been startling enough, but the fact that it was Timmy, the guard from Mayberry, surprised Sidney most of all.

“Everybody shut the fuck up or you’re all dead! Do you hear me? Dead!” Timmy screamed, pointing the guns at various people.

Sidney could see the guard had herded the employees out of the office section, forcing them, the tellers and customers to sit on the ground along the walls of the service area. Everyone looked positively petrified. Carl, the other guard, was lying near the front of the bank holding his bleeding shoulder, obviously having been shot. Each time Timmy pointed one of the guns at someone, they’d flinch, whimper or grimace, and the redheaded guard chuckled uncontrollably. Sidney couldn’t believe the shy, awkward man who’d greeted him upon entering the bank could be capable of something like this.

Surprisingly, Sidney could feel his Jack Wylde persona formulating multiple scenarios to save the day, calling on vast years of experience. He reached into his right inside jacket pocket and felt for something. When his hand closed around it, he smiled to himself. Just then he caught Helen’s eye. She had noticed him crouching there and even through her fear, she instinctively smiled back.

“What are you smiling at?” Timmy screamed at her. “You think this is some kind of game? That you can flirt your way out of this? That poor pathetic Timmy will fall for your bullshit?”

“No, I – I wasn’t...I didn’t...” Helen stuttered nervously.

“Ha! Look at the big time VP! Can’t even get a word out!” Timmy laughed, mocking her. He put the gun from his left hand in the waistband of his uniform and pointed the other one at Helen’s head. “Get up!” he said through gritted teeth.

“No, please don’t, Timmy,” Helen pleaded.

“Get up now, bitch! I want to finish our dance,” Timmy said viciously. “Or would you rather I blow your fucking head off and find a new dance partner?” He fired two shots into the ceiling as an exclamation point, causing everyone to jump, scream and panic again. “I told you to shut up!” Timmy yelled, once more swinging the gun wildly around the room.

“Okay, okay. Please, please just don’t hurt anyone else,” Helen whimpered with tears streaming down her cheeks as she stood up.

“I’ll do what I want!” Timmy said jumping off the counter, grabbing Helen roughly and pulling her to him, his left hand squeezing her buttocks hard. “You’re not in charge here anymore!” He rubbed the barrel of his gun down her neck and pushed it hard into her cleavage, the hot barrel singeing her skin.

“Please, Timmy...please, no!” Helen cried, but Timmy only laughed again.

“It seems like the lady isn’t interested, Tim.” Sidney said loudly.

Timmy broke his hold on Helen and whirled toward the direction of Sidney’s voice. “Who the fuck are you?” Timmy asked with a sneer when he saw Sidney’s Jack Wylde persona standing 40 feet away from him, near the hallway. Timmy drew the other pistol from his waistband.

“I’m the one who’s going to put a stop to all this nonsense,” Sidney said calmly.

“Oh you are, are you? Well, we’ll just see about that!” Timmy screamed, aiming the pistols at his enemy. Sidney stood casually with his arms folded across his chest and his head tilted slightly to the right. He winked at the crazed guard with a sly grin. Everyone screamed as Timmy emptied his guns until the repetitive clicks of the empty revolvers rang through the bank.

Sidney threw back his head and laughed, unharmed by the multiple shots.

“How the fu –?” Timmy started to say before Sidney cut him off.

“Now, now, let’s have no more of that language, Timmy. Be a good lad and stop all this foolishness before you get yourself hurt,” Sidney said with Jack Wylde’s trademark charm as he stepped out from the hallway and stood next to himself.

“What? How can there be two of you? And why isn’t that one dead?” Timmy yelled furiously, drool running down his chin.

“Just a simple holographic projection, Tim. All the best people have them these days, don’t you know,” Sidney replied, hitting the button on the remote control. The first version of Wylde shimmered for a second and faded away. He then raised his right hand, pointing the Walther PPK at the still confused guard. “It’s over, Tim.”

“Not yet!” Timmy said. He pulled an automatic switchblade from his pocket before grabbing Helen again. He stood behind her with his left arm around her waist and pressed the blade against her throat with his right hand. “Don’t come any closer or this bitch is getting a new smile.”

“Okay, okay. Just take it easy,” Sidney said, worried for the first time since all this began. The thought of causing his own wife’s death started to creep into his head, but the Jack Wylde persona quickly took over and pushed such thoughts out of his mind.

“How about I just give you
my
gun and you can lose the knife, Tim? What do you say?” he asked in an even tone.

“Fucking right you’ll give me your gun! Do it now!” Timmy said, his eyes almost popping out of his head. “Then I’ll decide if this bitch lives or dies! Just me! Nobody else gets a vote!” He started giggling uncontrollably again.

“Whatever you say, Tim,” Sidney said, placing his pistol on the ground before kicking it over to the deranged guard. He then held his hands up to shoulder level and remained motionless.