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by azrieljohnson

Heart of Gold by Azriel Johnson

Paul

I awoke in my two bedroom apartment. The nightmare of being homeless again always scared me. I had lost everything. I had no friends, I had nothing.
 
I heard a knock on my door. That must have been what awoke me. Green digital numbers read 3:30 in the dark. I stood and grabbed my boxers from the floor. I slipped them on and reached the door just as the next knock came.
 
I looked out the eyehole and saw his face. I saw his brown hair. I also saw my silver butterfly knife. He waved it in front of himself as if he knew....
 
"I know you're at the door Mister Gabriel Wade," his mouth spoke.
 
"Who are you?" I asked through the door.
 
"My name is Paul. I'm not here to harm you. Just to return your Uncle Jim's knife and to talk."
 
I backed away from the door. How did he know it was my Uncle's knife?
 
"How do you know who gave me that knife?"
 
"I know a lot about you Mister Gabriel Wade. If you let me in, I will explain further."
 
Could I trust this "Paul," I didn't know, but I did want the knife back. Uncle Jim had given me the knife in his will. It was polished silver with a stainless, folded steel blade. It had been my good luck charm for months now. I lamented forgetting it in the ritzy backyard. But even as much as I wanted the knife, this man could kill me with it and probably get away clean.
 
"Mister Wade, you are completely safe. I am not here to harm you. If I wanted that I would have killed you when you slept."
 
Now, that statement I trusted.
 
My hands unlatched the chain, twisted both locks and turned the door knob. Nervous energy coursed through me as I pulled the door open. The man with brown hair, Paul, stood smiling benignly.
 
"Come in," I said cautiously.
 
Paul handed me my knife and said, "Thank you."
 
His strides were confident and quick. His black shoes were polished. His suit was perfectly pressed. His strikingly brown hair was combed back, not a hair out of place. This man was meticulous. He was the epitome of the words, "well put together."
 
It was frightening.
 
He was walking around my apartment. My apartment was nice. It should have been for the price I paid for it a month. I kept it clean, immaculate even, and I was proud of that. I was hardly ever home to make it dirty. My "occupation" kept me busy.
 
Paul stepped out of my bedroom. His smile had turned to a smirk, "What a dump."
 
"Huh?" I said incredulously.
 
"This place is too small for a man of my talents and tastes."
 
"Well, it suits me just fine," I retorted defensively.
 
"Haha. Suits? Gabriel, you could have so much more if you applied yourself."
 
"What do you mean?" I asked. "And how is it you know my name and where I live?"
 
"It's a matter of public record. And I mean, you could apply yourself and achieve so much more than... this."
 
"Paul, you don't know anything about me."
 
"Of course, I do. How else was I able to track you to the Oldman's house this afternoon?"
 
Good point.
 
"It could have been just dumb luck. You could have seen me as you were cruising around for a jogger to rape."
 
Paul smirked wider, "You know, Gabriel, that hurts. Why would I waste time raping when I could kill them?"
 
"Well, since I've never killed or raped anyone how would I know the difference?"
 
"I do," Paul said coldly.
 
"Apparently," I replied. I sat on my expensive couch and pointed across from me for Paul to sit. He sat and leaned back.
 
"At least it's clean," he said sarcastically.
 
"Okay, okay. What do you want Paul. If that is even your real name."
 
"Paul, is my real name. And what I want is to give you a new start."
 
"A new start?"
 
"Yes, Gabriel. I know your plight. I know you better than anyone else ever has. Right now, I'm your best friend and before today you have never known I existed."
 
I was intrigued, "Okay go on. How do you want to help me?"
 
Paul leaned forward, "I want to take you out of here. I want to give you the life you never had sense enough to dream for yourself. I have someone waiting to take over your lease and your bills. You will come with me to my mansion and together we will live as kings."
 
"Live as kings huh?" I asked.
 
"Oh yes."
 
"What makes you think I want to live like a king?"
 
"You don't want to, yet. But I've needed to find someone like you to be my voice to the people. Your background is perfect."
 
"My background? An unemployed courier turned modern brigand?"
 
"Well, that and the fact that you know both sides of the coin. You know ambiguity. You live it. You breathe it. You live one life appearing to be a straight-laced, easy-going, young man, but you are actually desperately holding onto what little existence you have for fear of losing it again."

I looked at him. I looked into his icy blue, piercing eyes. I spoke slowly, "So, what would I have to do? If this is a sugar daddy scenario where I go with you and then end up being your sex slave, I'm not down for that. I'm a pitcher, for one, and I'm not into men, for another."
 
"No, no, not at all. I am happily engaged to a wonderful woman who is oblivious to my work and I know you've just ended a relationship with a fine, little blonde in the suburbs.
 
"All that I require is for you to trust me. Trust me and me alone. I will never ask you to go against your morals. If anything I do upsets you to the point where you want to leave my company I will accept your resignation and return you to this life of 'luxury' as you call it."
 
"Company? What kind of company is this?"
 
"A company of individuals who do not interact with anyone else, but other members of the company unless necessary to advance our interests. We are an elite group."
 
"Are you the leader?"
 
"Of course. And you will be the spokesperson. You will be the voice into the outside. Through you, a change will come."
 
"No one else has been able to be this person for you?"
 
"Gah! All these questions. No Gabriel. I was waiting for the right person for the job. I wouldn't have bothered with fighting you if I had someone else. I would have just killed you for picking my pocket."
 
I was silent. I had picked a lot of pockets in my day. I had never been discovered. I never looked anyone in the eye when I did it. I did remember one pocket I picked contained only one credit card, no identification, and no cash. The credit card had said, "Paul Thomas."
 
I mostly used the card at Fast Tap locations to limit the times I was carded, but I had a fake I.D. made with the name Paul Thomas on it in case I was. I spoke again, "So you are Paul Thomas?"
 
The man across from me smiled, "Indeed I am. I've been watching the account. I was curious what you would try to buy with it. And I was impressed you only bought necessities, food, clothing, toiletries. You only get what you need."
 
"I buy other things with cash. Self-checkout is my friend at the grocery store."
 
Paul laughed, "Very good Gabriel."
 
I smiled, "This, I will admit is a very tempting offer, but I'm not convinced. Let me think it over okay?"
 
"I can agree with that. I'll return at noon. You get some more rest and we can discuss this more."
 
Noon? This guy was nuts.
 
Paul stood and we shook hands. He grabbed Uncle Jim's knife from the table where I'd put it. He opened it quickly in one motion, then closed it in another. He smiled and put it into my hand. He departed on silent, powerful steps devoid of any limp I may have caused him earlier. The door closed softly and I locked it behind him. I sighed and trudged to my bed. I was still very tired. I collapsed in the darkness, 3:59 glowing in green digital.