<br><br><center>*I felt like a primitive spring-loaded machine, placed under far more tension than I could sustain, about to blast apart at great danger to anyone standing nearby, with body parts flying off my torso.
― Elizabeth Gilbert*
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*Cruel Prank or Warning?*</center>
<br><br>Fear sustained weakens the body. Living under a constant physical threat had taken its toll and I finally hit a wall.
I suppose it was naive to suppose that a little talk therapy and a few pills would alter my view of reality, but Silas had offered me hope and I thought I was on the road to recovery―until, a suspicious package on my porch threw me back into panic mode.
I didn't get out of my car but just sat in the driveway trying to calm down. Then, I remembered the clonazepam Silas prescribed and took one and washed it down with stale coffee left in a paper cup from two mornings previously.
It was a choice between consuming something unpalatable or enduring an emotional crisis. It wasn't a hard decision to make.
<br><br>I leaned back in the driver's seat and closed my eyes waiting for the benzo to take effect. I had no idea what to expect but Silas told me to take it for panic and a bomb on my doorstep was a good test.
After several minutes I felt calmer and it occurred to me to check the security cameras on my phone. Sure enough, there was a motion event recorded. I could plainly see the package being placed on the doorstep, but the person was not a postman or from FedEx, but dressed in jeans and a black hoodie with their back to the camera.
I phoned Sarah and within five minutes she and Ross arrived along with uniformed officers.
<br><br>"Did you touch anything?" Ross asked.
"No, I didn't get near the porch. I checked my cameras and saw a stranger leaving the package and so I phoned you guys."
Sarah took my phone and viewed the recording. "Can't see much from this but we'll get the techies to take a closer look―you never know."
The bomb squad arrived and were cautiously evaluating the scene.
She saw my trembling hands and pulled me aside. "Are you okay? You look pretty shaken."
"I'm fine," I lied.
<br><br>She looked closely at me and then opened the door of her car. "Get in," she commanded.
I meekly complied.
"No need for you to sit waiting for us to process the scene. Let's get a coffee."
We ended up at a nearby Harvey's burger place and got takeout and then, she drove to a nearby nature trail and parked with a view of the escarpment.
<br><br>"Burgers and fries? You didn't have to buy me supper," I said, embarrassed at her babysitting me.
She waved off my objection. "Hey, you made coffee for me several times―besides, it's supper time. Consider it a date," she winked.
I felt the familiar warmth I always feel whenever she flirts with me, but this time, her teasing was mixed with compassion. It made my throat tighten and tears come to my eyes. It always happens when someone is kind to me.
Maybe I was feeling undeserving, and in this case, it was warranted, but I knew she was trying to calm me. And yeah, it did feel like date, but no way I was complaining.
<br><br>"Don't worry, Prof, we'll catch your stalker, but you're going to miss these times―these little adventures."
"Only you would see it that way," I smiled, "but yeah, I will miss our midnight coffees."
The car went silent. Neither of us spoke. I think we both felt the same way.
Then her cell buzzed and she left the car to take the call and returned few minutes later.
<br><br>"The package was a dud," she frowned, "some nails, a clock and fake explosives―obviously designed to upset you."
"It worked―sent a message loud and clear. Someone hates me enough to want me dead. That's pretty sobering."
"Well, cheer up, Prof―you seem to have enough women wanting you to live. It's not all bad."
I knew she meant her and it helped but didn't take away the guilt.
Actually, her attempt to encourage me only made me aware of how bent my mind was. And fool that I was, all I wanted at that moment was for her to stay overnight. Waking up to her would make stalking almost endurable if it didn't remind me of what brought me here in the first place.
But her gesture was bittersweet―a mixture of joy and pain, typical of me and my relationships.
<br><br> <center>To be continued…</center>
<br><center>© 2021, John J Geddes. All rights reserved</center>
<br><center>[Photo](https://images.app.goo.gl/XKgGHmipF8AkBNSKA)</center>
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