to form simply wasn’t working somewhere from his brain to his mouth. I winced in sympathy.
I held out my hand, thought it was the last thing I really wanted to do. ‘I’m Mark Hurt. Just came over to check and see if he was all right.’
By the looks the two men were giving me, I knew I should be going. Yet, I was reluctant to leave James’s side. I cast him as covert a look I could manage and didn’t like what I saw. He was gnawing on his lower lip with wolf-like viciousness; eyes wide in childlike distress. I watched his hands, the fingers were tapping together on his left, one, two, three, four. Each finger tapping his thumb nervously.
‘That was very kind of you,’ one of the men said, chilly.
The other man directed his attention down to James. ‘It’s time to go, Jim.’
James raised his eyes to the man yet he didn’t move. ‘I want to stay,’ voice finally firm.
The man laughed. I think he meant it to come off as friendly, but it just grated on my nerves, made me angry.
‘Come now, Jim, you know you can’t.’
I swallowed nervously. I felt like I’d just stepped into some domestic and it was threatening to turn nasty. I wanted to back away, but the look on James’s face ripped at my insides. He looked so miserable, so helpless. Friendless.
It was a struggle to not say that James was an adult. He was more than capable of deciding for himself what he wanted or did not want to do. He didn’t need two blokes in black telling him.
I kept my mouth shut. Scared. Of what, I wasn’t so sure.
I watched his fingers go tracing over the surface of his open notebook, over the equations he’d just scribbled there. He seemed lost in his own head, no longer aware of the two men standing over him. No longer aware of me. In my head I’d grab the two men by their collars and snap at them to stop. They were clearly distressing James. Seeing him like this was a stab in my heart, damned if I knew why! But I was much too weak and timid for any show against these two strangers and so I simply stood back like an idiot, cursing myself even as I did so.
‘James,’ one of the men said with exasperated patience.
Very, very slowly, James closed his notebook. A look of unhappy resignation on his face. Our eyes locked briefly; the first time, I realised, I’d ever made eye-contact with him. What could I say? And how could I, with these two men watching every move James made? I had to settle for a sympathetic expression, which, by the morose look on his face, he did not understand. He gathered up his things slowly, head bowed, quietly muttering what sounded like equations; once again lost in his own world.
They brushed past me without a word, without a glance. James shepherded between the two of them, his head still lowered. I felt a pang at the pit of my stomach as I watched them go; James hunched over, like he was trying to shrink into himself, away from the men.
I didn’t like it, or the strange wave of protection that washed over me. I had no right to feel that way towards James, so why was I now so resentful of those two damned suits who had appeared out of nowhere to drag him away?
There was a stab of pain in my palm and I realised I was digging my fingernails into my skin. I uncurled my hands, wincing. James and his two handlers were now out of sight. Still I stared after them, till my vision blurred and I no longer knew what I was looking at; simply cloudy neutral colours. I blinked once my eyes began to sting and the library shifted back into focus.
I wanted to text him. To call him. To find out what the hell was going on. Learn if he was all right. I couldn’t. Not at work. I’d have to wait. And that was agonisingly long hours away.
I didn’t like those two. They were different from the two who had taken him at his lecture. But they still carried that same air about them. Something was terribly wrong.
And I couldn’t help but think it all came back to InVizion.
James was clearly much deeper in
I held out my hand, thought it was the last thing I really wanted to do. ‘I’m Mark Hurt. Just came over to check and see if he was all right.’
By the looks the two men were giving me, I knew I should be going. Yet, I was reluctant to leave James’s side. I cast him as covert a look I could manage and didn’t like what I saw. He was gnawing on his lower lip with wolf-like viciousness; eyes wide in childlike distress. I watched his hands, the fingers were tapping together on his left, one, two, three, four. Each finger tapping his thumb nervously.
‘That was very kind of you,’ one of the men said, chilly.
The other man directed his attention down to James. ‘It’s time to go, Jim.’
James raised his eyes to the man yet he didn’t move. ‘I want to stay,’ voice finally firm.
The man laughed. I think he meant it to come off as friendly, but it just grated on my nerves, made me angry.
‘Come now, Jim, you know you can’t.’
I swallowed nervously. I felt like I’d just stepped into some domestic and it was threatening to turn nasty. I wanted to back away, but the look on James’s face ripped at my insides. He looked so miserable, so helpless. Friendless.
It was a struggle to not say that James was an adult. He was more than capable of deciding for himself what he wanted or did not want to do. He didn’t need two blokes in black telling him.
I kept my mouth shut. Scared. Of what, I wasn’t so sure.
I watched his fingers go tracing over the surface of his open notebook, over the equations he’d just scribbled there. He seemed lost in his own head, no longer aware of the two men standing over him. No longer aware of me. In my head I’d grab the two men by their collars and snap at them to stop. They were clearly distressing James. Seeing him like this was a stab in my heart, damned if I knew why! But I was much too weak and timid for any show against these two strangers and so I simply stood back like an idiot, cursing myself even as I did so.
‘James,’ one of the men said with exasperated patience.
Very, very slowly, James closed his notebook. A look of unhappy resignation on his face. Our eyes locked briefly; the first time, I realised, I’d ever made eye-contact with him. What could I say? And how could I, with these two men watching every move James made? I had to settle for a sympathetic expression, which, by the morose look on his face, he did not understand. He gathered up his things slowly, head bowed, quietly muttering what sounded like equations; once again lost in his own world.
They brushed past me without a word, without a glance. James shepherded between the two of them, his head still lowered. I felt a pang at the pit of my stomach as I watched them go; James hunched over, like he was trying to shrink into himself, away from the men.
I didn’t like it, or the strange wave of protection that washed over me. I had no right to feel that way towards James, so why was I now so resentful of those two damned suits who had appeared out of nowhere to drag him away?
There was a stab of pain in my palm and I realised I was digging my fingernails into my skin. I uncurled my hands, wincing. James and his two handlers were now out of sight. Still I stared after them, till my vision blurred and I no longer knew what I was looking at; simply cloudy neutral colours. I blinked once my eyes began to sting and the library shifted back into focus.
I wanted to text him. To call him. To find out what the hell was going on. Learn if he was all right. I couldn’t. Not at work. I’d have to wait. And that was agonisingly long hours away.
I didn’t like those two. They were different from the two who had taken him at his lecture. But they still carried that same air about them. Something was terribly wrong.
And I couldn’t help but think it all came back to InVizion.
James was clearly much deeper in
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