my apartment.
I stumbled up and made my way to the front hall. I was trying my best to put my most humble and apologetic expression on, because surely it was Billy attempting to destroy my front door with her fist. Without checking the peephole, I opened the door to an unexpected sight. Edgar, in all his glory, stood in the hallway—the hallway that could only be accessed if you had a key or had been allowed access via a tenant of the building buzzing you up from street level. Needless to say, I was startled and wondered, out loud, how he'd gotten in. “Who let you in the building?”
Edgar's flawless and ageless face didn't acknowledge my rudeness. Instead he said, in an exquisitely monotone voice, “Mr. Vokkel requests your presence. The car is waiting downstairs.”
Maybe it was the surprise of his unexpected visit, or maybe it was because I was tired and still fighting the cobwebs of my nap, or maybe I was scared and it was a knee jerk reaction, but what came out of my mouth next surprised even me. “Vokkel can kiss my ass,” I said as I began to close the door.
Edgar's arm shot out at the speed of light and prevented the closure. As I said earlier, I was a strapping young man, but I suddenly found myself putting both arms and all of my one-hundred and ninety pounds into closing the door against his one armed strength. When I realized I wasn't going to win, I simply said, “Not now, Edgar. Give me a number and I'll call in a day or two to arrange something.”
Edgar withdrew his arm and cocked his head slightly, then said, “Mr. Vokkel will be very displeased.”
Instead of trying to kidnap me or force his way into my home, he pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to me. It only contained seven digits, no dashes and no words. What was it with these people and their cryptically numerical cards? As I began to close the door, I said, “Don't you or Vokkel
ever
enter this building again without my permission!” I wasn't really in a position to make threats considering his blatant display of physical strength, but I was feeling a little overconfident since he had given up so easily.
I secured the deadbolt and leaned against the door. My breath was coming in ragged, shallow gasps, not just from the exertion of working against Edgar's incredible strength, but also because he'd honestly scared me. Once my security and composure were in place, I went straight to my phone to make two calls. My first call went to Kevin Riley, our building manager and maintenance man. Kevin lived in the one bedroom apartment on the ground floor, courtesy of the building owners. It was his job to make sure everything was taken care of and our building was secure and nicely maintained. Since the association fees only covered Kevin's rent, utilities, and a small salary, he supplemented his income with a talent for computers. That little side-job was the reason we had such a fantastic security system, which he could monitor 24/7 from a terminal in his apartment or a link on his smart-phone. Kevin had the intercom system installed, complete with cameras that viewed all public areas and allowed a tenant to see who was ringing their apartment from the street. It also recorded and stored the comings and goings in our building and garage.
He answered on the second ring. “Kevin Riley.” After the identification and greeting process was complete, I dived in with my concern.
“Kevin, I just had a visitor at my front door, but I didn't buzz him up. Can you check your computer and tell me who let him in?” I knew Kevin could do this, because he'd held a meeting of all the owners explaining the extent of his ability to monitor all that we did. Initially, I'd found his access to our lives a bit on the Big Brother side of things, but I felt differently now that I needed to know how Edgar gained access.
The audible click of fingers on a keyboard went on for almost a full minute, then he said, “Black dude, bald head, wearing
I stumbled up and made my way to the front hall. I was trying my best to put my most humble and apologetic expression on, because surely it was Billy attempting to destroy my front door with her fist. Without checking the peephole, I opened the door to an unexpected sight. Edgar, in all his glory, stood in the hallway—the hallway that could only be accessed if you had a key or had been allowed access via a tenant of the building buzzing you up from street level. Needless to say, I was startled and wondered, out loud, how he'd gotten in. “Who let you in the building?”
Edgar's flawless and ageless face didn't acknowledge my rudeness. Instead he said, in an exquisitely monotone voice, “Mr. Vokkel requests your presence. The car is waiting downstairs.”
Maybe it was the surprise of his unexpected visit, or maybe it was because I was tired and still fighting the cobwebs of my nap, or maybe I was scared and it was a knee jerk reaction, but what came out of my mouth next surprised even me. “Vokkel can kiss my ass,” I said as I began to close the door.
Edgar's arm shot out at the speed of light and prevented the closure. As I said earlier, I was a strapping young man, but I suddenly found myself putting both arms and all of my one-hundred and ninety pounds into closing the door against his one armed strength. When I realized I wasn't going to win, I simply said, “Not now, Edgar. Give me a number and I'll call in a day or two to arrange something.”
Edgar withdrew his arm and cocked his head slightly, then said, “Mr. Vokkel will be very displeased.”
Instead of trying to kidnap me or force his way into my home, he pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to me. It only contained seven digits, no dashes and no words. What was it with these people and their cryptically numerical cards? As I began to close the door, I said, “Don't you or Vokkel
ever
enter this building again without my permission!” I wasn't really in a position to make threats considering his blatant display of physical strength, but I was feeling a little overconfident since he had given up so easily.
I secured the deadbolt and leaned against the door. My breath was coming in ragged, shallow gasps, not just from the exertion of working against Edgar's incredible strength, but also because he'd honestly scared me. Once my security and composure were in place, I went straight to my phone to make two calls. My first call went to Kevin Riley, our building manager and maintenance man. Kevin lived in the one bedroom apartment on the ground floor, courtesy of the building owners. It was his job to make sure everything was taken care of and our building was secure and nicely maintained. Since the association fees only covered Kevin's rent, utilities, and a small salary, he supplemented his income with a talent for computers. That little side-job was the reason we had such a fantastic security system, which he could monitor 24/7 from a terminal in his apartment or a link on his smart-phone. Kevin had the intercom system installed, complete with cameras that viewed all public areas and allowed a tenant to see who was ringing their apartment from the street. It also recorded and stored the comings and goings in our building and garage.
He answered on the second ring. “Kevin Riley.” After the identification and greeting process was complete, I dived in with my concern.
“Kevin, I just had a visitor at my front door, but I didn't buzz him up. Can you check your computer and tell me who let him in?” I knew Kevin could do this, because he'd held a meeting of all the owners explaining the extent of his ability to monitor all that we did. Initially, I'd found his access to our lives a bit on the Big Brother side of things, but I felt differently now that I needed to know how Edgar gained access.
The audible click of fingers on a keyboard went on for almost a full minute, then he said, “Black dude, bald head, wearing
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