Chapter 11 – Party

Corbin shut the door to his apartment. He stood in silence.

I should go. I need a break from all of this.

He looked toward his bedroom. The four journal pages and the secret code and message he found in the Harrison Home. I have already started to go crazy. Maybe I should just finish this so things can get better.

He closed off his gaze and walked into the bathroom. The ornate angel on the mirror reaching out her miniature hands in a gesture to hold and comfort him.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He grimaced at the sight of bags under his eyes, the five o’clock shadow that coated his cheeks and neck, and the unkempt hair that would stand out from a hundred feet away. This story really has taken its toll on me. I need a shower and I need to go to that party.

Corbin cleaned himself up and put on a blue button-down shirt and the best looking khaki pants from his bureau. He hadn’t done his laundry in a while so a little wrinkly was going to be the best he could find. He looked at himself one last time in the mirror and entered the hall.

Corbin was nervous as he headed downstairs. What do I talk about with these people? The only thing I seem to know are all about … Harrison. I can’t seem to get him out of my thoughts.

The front door was opened and upbeat holiday music filled the stairwell with its pleasant tidings. He stepped in through the open doorway into the hall with the photo of the Churches on one of their goodwill missions. The song was familiar. I know this song. I heard it before.

Mrs. Church found Corbin in the hall and smiled. “Oh, thank you for coming, Corbin. I know things were awkward last time you were here, but I hope you can enjoy yourself and meet some of the other tenants.”

Corbin nodded. He looked befuddled. “Thanks. I’m wondering what is the song that’s playing?”

Mrs. Church scrutinized him as if he may be joking with her.
Corbin noticed her suspicious look and tried to play along. He laughed. “I’m just kidding. I know everyone knows this classic.”

Mrs. Church cracked a grin yet still holding a suspicious gaze. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Everyone knows Jingle Bells.”

Jingle Bells. That’s what it was. “Of course. Jingle Bells is a classic. Sorry about the joke. I do that sometimes with my peers at work. I know it’s kind of cheesy. Just a way to make sure we all keep up with the times.”

Mrs. Church nodded. A little bit of her suspicions lifted. “Oh, I see. Well I’m sure you work very hard over at the Charlestown View especially with that new story of yours.”

Corbin nodded and continued to walk toward the living room. “Yeah, very busy.”

Mrs. Church passed by him to a door in the hall that led to their bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Corbin was still nervous as he walked into the living room. He saw a few tenants he met earlier when he was questioning about the previous tenant, Jeremy Harmon.

The living room was turned into a buffet chamber with a banquet table near the window to the street. There was a coffee machine with a few stacks of Styrofoam cups and a few plates with crackers, cheese and fruit.

An elderly woman was at the coffee machine filling up her cup. She smiled within the steam that wafted the strong scent of coffee beans and something fruity.
Corbin recognized her. I wish I had my notebook. I think her name was Diane or Sharon. Crap. I got to work on this whole memory thing.

She turned and smiled at Corbin. “Oh hello, it’s nice to see you again.” She took a sip from her cup. “Mm, the Churches always make the best coffee.” She put her cup down and looked at Corbin. “Did you ever get any other information on that man?”

Mr. Church walked into the room. His grizzled beard trimmed a bit down since Corbin last saw him. He was wearing a red Christmas sweater with Rudolph leading Santa’s sleigh into the night. He kept scratching his neck and fussing over the collar. It didn’t seem like he made the wardrobe choice. Mr. Church smiled. “I’m glad you were able to make it, Corbin. I hope things have been well.”

Corbin nodded. “Yes, they’re good.”

Another man entered the living room. Corbin recognized him as the elderly man from 2C. He had the look of an upper middle-class man with his red sweater vest, green dress shirt and golden tie – possibly someone who once owned a sailing boat. His gray hair was parted to the side and his clean-shaven appearance made him look like George Clooney. “Phil, you do have one heck of a car collection.”

Phil smiled through his thick beard. “Thank you, Jack. It’s been years in the making.”

Corbin looked confused. “Car Collection?” A hippie collecting cars?

Phil nodded. “Yes, I collect model cars. Something I started when I was very little and haven’t been able to stop. ”

The elderly man reached out his hand to Corbin. “It looks like we meet again, Corbin, is it?”

Corbin nodded.

“I have heard a little bit about you,” the elderly man added, “I hear you are at the Charlestown View.”

“Yeah, it’s a good job.”

“Interesting, considering I have heard they are downsizing over there.”

Corbin didn’t know how to respond. Jack’s statement seemed cold, but possibly unintentionally like someone who wasn’t socially aware or just old, but he couldn’t stop feeling a bitterness when he spoke.

“Yeah, I’ve been lucky.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, one of my old students works there. You must know him. His name is Owen Hemingsworth.”

The name sent a pain up Corbin’s lower back. Oh yes. I have heard of him. He nodded.

“He was a good kid. Very much wanted to be a journalist, but a great history student. Asked many questions. Showed a true interest in it. Not many like that today. Last time I heard from him, he was working at the New Hampshire Historical Society and then I saw him on the street outside our building. Now he tells me he’s over at the Charlestown View doing well it seems, weird how those things happen, huh?”

Corbin froze in his place in the middle of the living room. His voice constricted. “Yeah, odd how that happens.” Owen worked at the Historical Society? Could he have been the one that tampered with the photos? He must be catching on to me!

“You alright?” Jack asked.

Corbin stared into nothingness. Could he be the one hiding his identity? … Stop … Stop. I told myself I was taking a break. I need to focus on something else or my brain will wear down.

“Kid, are you alright?” Jack asked again.

Corbin shook himself awake. “Yes, of course. Thanks for asking. Owen is definitely motivated.”

“Hang on, Jack. You and Corbin met earlier?” Phil asked.

Jack nodded his head. “Oh yes, Corbin was asking where - “

“- to find a great place to eat around here,” Corbin interrupted. He was breathing heavily now. His thoughts tired him like a ten-mile bike ride. I can’t let them know that I’ve been snooping around. They’ll never trust me and then I’ll get kicked out.

Jack paused and smiled, to show he was onto Corbin’s ploy, but he didn’t know why Corbin did it. “Yeah, I remember telling you to go to the Sumner House. Great food there and good history of course.”

Phil laughed. “Oh yes, Jack. You and your history. I’m sure you have stacks of history books you are ready to read.”

Jack smiled. “Of course, I do. Now I just give them to my students to read now.”

Mrs. Church entered the room and spoke with Sharon who was hugging the wall window, sipping her hot coffee. They were in a pleasant conversation about curtains and drapes.

Corbin was attentive to everything that went on in that room. It was probably his paranoia or just his attention to detail, but he was able to process both conversations as they went on. “So is this it for this year?” Sharon asked Mrs. Church.

Mrs. Church frowned and nodded. “It’s the best we could do with such short notice, you know. We wanted to have it earlier, but we just go so busy with other things.”

Sharon looked over toward Corbin in a precarious sort of way like she was a drug dealer making sure the coast was clear to make the hand off.
Corbin pretended to be involve in Phil and Jack’s discussion, but kept an attentive ear toward the two women. Sharon lowered her voice to a whisper. “So, have you seen you know who around?”

Mrs. Church held a blank expression and shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen him.”

“Did he ask anything else of you?”

Mrs. Church shook her head. “No, nothing else just to keep an eye on the target.”

“Any new developments with that?”

Mrs. Church furrowed her brow and scrutinized her tenant.

Sharon shook her head and weakly smiled. “What? An old woman can’t be curious?”

“I’ve already told you too much, Sharon. I don’t know what he’ll do if he found out that you knew about everything.”

Sharon shrugged her thin, aged shoulders. “Well, apparently not everything.”

Corbin was silent and staring into space like a statue. To a passerby, it would seem like he was incredibly disturbed or distracted. Phil and Jack didn’t seem to notice as they were deep in a conversation about the difference between a BMW M3 and an Audi RS 6.

Mrs. Church waved her arm down. “Enough of that now, let’s enjoy the party and talk to the boys.”

Corbin shook himself awake as other sounds began to enter his ears. A pleasant melody was playing that kept singing, “Frosty the Snowman.” Hmm nice song. He nodded and smiled to appear like he was enjoying the talk about sports cars and engine parts.

The two women approached each with a cup of half-drunken coffee.

“Hello, dear,” Mrs. Church said with a smile, returning her holiday cheer.

Sharon guffawed. “Oh, what a very festive sweater you have on Phil.”

Phil sighed. “Yes, I’m loving it.” He tugged at his collar until his wife emphatically cleared her throat. “Very much.”

Sharon used her best festive voice. “Good. Merry Christmas by the way. I feel like I never get to say that anymore.”

Everyone shared a Merry Christmas greeting with each other and started to talk about family and past Christmases. Corbin was mostly quiet, listening to other people’s stories. He was good at it. Never really had a story of his own. All thanks to retrograde amnesia and a car accident he can’t seem to remember.

Corbin stayed for another hour and then left.

Everyone said their holiday departing words. Mrs. Church walked Corbin out.

“Thanks again for coming on short notice, Corbin.”

Corbin smiled. A true smile. “It was actually nice to get a break for a change.”

Mrs. Church held onto the door. “Good. I’m glad you were able to relax. Now don’t work too hard on that story. Good night.”

Corbin nodded. “Will do. Good night.”

Mrs. Church shut the door. The cheerful melody of Santa is coming to Town barely audible behind the walls.

Corbin hummed the melody as he climbed up the stairs. He grabbed his apartment key and unlocked his door.

The humming stopped as Corbin froze. He hadn’t yet twisted the key to open the door when a realization kicked in.

“How did Mrs. Church know I was working on a story?” he mumbled.

A deep, unsettling feeling filled his stomach as he quickly opened and shut his door like a gale force wind.

His breathing quickened as he headed to the bathroom. What did she mean about the target or him? Corbin grunted in frustration and punched the wall to the bathroom. More and more questions and no answers.

A wooden panel shifted down with the force of gravity and the vibrations Corbin sent through the wall. He looked over and saw the panel hang from the side of the mirror. He walked over and saw what the panel had been covering – a safe. It had seven numbered dials like one on a lock box and a small metallic handle.

Finally something that I think I can solve.

Next Chapter: 12 - Mirror