The Target

Ed Brilke stared directly at the 42 year old man with the thinning hair and frowned. How anyone could walk around life knowing so much scalp is showing was beyond him. If it were up to him, he'd be using a touch of the spray on hair to cover it up, but Jennifer says she'd rather see him completely bald than look like he just changed his oil without a pan. The shirt was alright with a touch of blue that highlighted his eyes, but the shoes were visibly worn at the toe and the sole flapped softly against the linoleum when he walked down the halls at work.



Yes, Ed Brilke was not the young man he had hoped to be when he'd finish his life. True, he had managed to hold off gray hair into his 40s, but God found away to remind him he was still aging. His father had passed away from heart failure at 54 with a thick full head of hair. Unfortunately, genetics works differently than Ed wanted and his mother's father was as bald as a newborn baby.

The door opens starling him from his revelry. Jim Thomas walks past him with a sidelong glance implying his concern at any man standing in the men's room not at a urinal, toilet or at least washing his hands at the sink. Ed had been caught day dreaming again instead of working. He flipped the handle to cold on the sink and began scrubbing his hands methodically like a surgeon. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand... Ed had read some where that surgeons scrub their hands for a minimum of fifteen second to insure no germs remain on their hands before a surgery. Ed had a fascinating medical history that read like a cliff notes version of a man's life. His childhood records included many dates and diseases listed as he was vaccinated as a young child and through his youth. He had his tetanus booster five years ago after cutting his foot on a rusty fishing hook at a company get away. He had a record of his visit to the cardiologist after his father passed from heart disease. All records indicated Ed was a healthy man. He had never been sick. The hospital records could only cover visits to indicate if he had ever been sick, but Ed had never even had a cold or the flu.

As a child, he only attempted a few sick days once he watched enough TV to recognize the symptoms of a sever cold or flu. He would rub his nose raw with a tissue and apply a light dose of Vaseline for the appearance of runniness, but he was often sent to the bathroom to clean off his face and get ready for school. He had never taken ill with the chicken pox as a child even though his sisters had them when he was 5 years old. his mother forced him to sleep in the same room with the itching twins for 4 nights before she gave up on the hope of getting his infection out of the way with theirs. This sort of disease that was known to be more severe in adulthood than childhood is why Ed washed his hands so thoroughly. It's why he used two paper towels to dry his hands: one for the drying and the other to open the door before he walked out.

Back in the hallway, Ed's phone began to vibrate in his pocket, but he couldn't get it yet. He had the social awkwardness of not wanting to be on his phone while walking away from the bathroom and given anyone reason to believe he was one of those men that had no problem answering the phone while sitting on the toilet. He despised those people and the diseases they likely spread to their phones in those moments. He dreaded having friends that handed him a phone to talk to a friend calling from far away and never knowing how clean it was. If he stayed healthy, he trusted that friend more than before.

Back at his desk, his voicemail light lit red. tapping the voicemail speed dial, Ed enters his pin and presses one numerous time until his message finally plays. The first sound to great him is a siren and then the panicked voice of his wife swearing that he's not at his desk and hanging up. Ed reaches furiously for his cell phone as he stands at his desk and runs to the elevator bank. He pressed the speed dial on his phone and hears this voicemail from his wife. The sirens are quieter this time and she seems to be whispering somewhere away from the noise to him. "Ed. I'm not crazy. Don't let them tell you I'm crazy. I saw it. I saw that lizard thing take Stan. It threw him in a bag and walked through the wall like it was some kind of ghost. You have to believe me! Come home now!"

As the elevator came, Ed realized Jennifer should have been working that day. Why was she at home? And, more importantly, why was she with Stan Garretti, their landlord?