Ten Moves Ahead (Part 7)

After the "Drunken Bowling Incident" as I've decided to call it, I feel more like Cornelius's friend than like someone who's just tagging along trying to figure out what's up with him.  In fact, as time goes on, I feel like I care more and more about Cornelius as a person and about helping him with his little missions and less about the details of how any of this actually makes any sense.  I also feel like Cornelius trusts me more.  Even though he still doesn't let me in on exactly what's happening ahead of time, I find he is seeking my help with more efforts to help people in a physical sense, rather than just an emotional one.  Usually, it doesn't seem entirely planned, like when we were just out walking one day and he suddenly told me to ask directions from a woman down the street where he stood there staring at some unsavory looking follow in the crowd.  Cornelius later told me that man was going to snatch the woman's purse.  In fact, Cornelius went so far as to follow the guy and continue glaring at him until he got totally freaked out and ran the heck away.  The great part was when we came back to that same area a week later and scared the guy off a second time.  In fact, we hunted him down a couple more times, and one of the times Cornelius even sent me off on my own to handle it, saying he had something else to take care of.  I'm pretty sure that guy was never going to try to steal a purse again, though when I asked Cornelius about it, he said he couldn't say for sure.

So that was one of our recurring adventures, but we had plenty of one time episodes, too.  A couple instances of stopping pedestrians from getting hit by a car, giving an umbrella to an elderly woman caught in the rain (saying he didn't want her to get pneumonia), stopping a man from falling down a flight of stairs, and even one time stopping a suicide attempt.

That was one of the scariest things I'd ever witnessed:  up on a bridge, a woman threatening to jump, Cornelius tells me to call the police and while I'm doing that he goes and talks to her.  He calls her by name, which I would have though would have freaked her the heck out.  Turns out it seemed to startle her just enough to prompt her to listen to what he had to say.  I'm talking to the police while he's talking to her.  He tells her he understands, describes things he's gone through that I don't think he's ever actually gone through and tells her it's not worth giving her life up over.  "I know you'll regret it, as you're falling, as you'll see the earth rushing towards you, your last thought will be 'God, why did I do this?'"

The woman starts crying at that point, practically collapses on the floor at his feet, and that's where they find her, the police, when they arrive.  Cornelius looks exceedingly uncomfortable until, as they're helping her up and trying to ask her who she is and where they can take her for help, she looks over at him, red eyes with tears running down her cheeks and says "Thank you."

Cornelius smiles at her and says, "You're welcome.  You'll get through this.  I know you can."

I'm pretty shaken up myself, but I manage to ask him, "How did you know all that stuff about her past if you can only see the future and she was about to die?"

He doesn't look at me as he says, "You know what they say about life flashing before your eyes?  Well I saw that, felt it, for her.  I felt what brought her here and how scared and hopeless she felt and how her last thought was how there had to have been a way out, and then I just saw darkness."

"So all that stuff you said to her..."

"Stuff I felt in her, from her own past."

"And when she said she'd be okay..."

He looks over at me, very serious and says, "She will be.  I wouldn't lie to her about that."

"So if she wasn't going to be okay..."

"I think I'd just like to go home now," he mutters.

I frown and fidget with my phone, looking at the call made to the police just a few minutes ago.  "Yeah," I say, "I think I'd like that, too."

I really don't know how Cornelius deals with this, all the stress and responsibility, seeing people's futures, feeling like he has to do something to save them.  I consider asking him, as time goes on, if he ever just says "No" to himself, if he's ever encountered something too dangerous or risky and he just walks away.  The suicide attempt was one of the most frightening things I've ever seen him intervene in, and even then he was not at personal risk, at least not physical personal risk.  I want to ask him if he ever turns away, or if he's ever failed to save someone, someone at real, extreme personal risk, like the suicide attempt or the little girl on the bike, the daughter of that man he introduced me to all those weeks ago.  How long has it been since then?  Three months?  Almost four months, I think.  I want to ask him these things, but I'm scared myself, scared of what the answer might be.

I've come to expect so much from Cornelius, to assume he is always trying to help people, really help people.  I watch him say little words of encouragement to total strangers, give money to some beggars but not others (telling me he sees what they'll spend it on), stopping someone to ask for the time to keep them from twisting and ankle on the stairs or knocking someone down or getting hit by a biker or a car.  So many things all the time, all around us he's stopping, some life and death, some crime related (like the purse snatching), but I notice I've never seen him interfere with something that's both.  I've seen him stop petty crime and stop fatal accidents, but I've never seen him stop a murder or even an armed robbery.  Maybe he just doesn't see any of those, but would he stop them if he did?  Would I if I were in his shoes?  Surely he could at least tip off the cops, and then I wonder if maybe he already does.

Finally, I decide to just break down and ask him.  I think we've become good enough friends that he might even been insulted if I didn't feel comfortable enough to ask.

We're having lunch one day, near my office, when I just say, "Do you ever tip the cops off on bigger stuff?"

He looks at me suspiciously and says nothing, so I lean in and whisper, "Like murders and things."

He frowns.  "No murders, no," he says.  He looks real nervous and says, "Domestic assault several times, and a few... related incidents.  I try to stay anonymous."

"So you've never seen like... someone kill someone else."  I start to feel awkward and say, "I'm sorry, if you aren't comfortable talking about it."

"I'm not," I'm surprised to say him say, "not really.  I mean well, maybe someday you'll understand, but not today.  I can tell you that acts of violence are never fun to witness.  I've seen people walking down the street before, just glanced at them and seen either what they're going to go home and do or what they're going to go home and find done to them.  Sometimes I can see names and the other face, but sometimes I can't.  The times I can't are the hardest.  I try to follow them as best I can, see where they live so I can call in a tip, but it doesn't always work out.  There's been about half a dozen times when I've seen someone who was going to do something, hurt someone, not kill, but hurt someone, and I failed to do anything to stop them."

"Wow," is all I can think to say back.  "That sucks, man.  I'm so sorry I brought it up."

He shrugs, trying to let it roll off him, but I can tell he's exceedingly uncomfortable.  You don't have to see the future to see things like that.  "It's okay," he says, staring at the last few bites of his sandwich.  "Really.  I mean, it's not okay that I failed, it really isn't, but it's just something I have to live with."

"I can help," I blurt out.  "Really.  The next time it happens, the next time you see it, let me know."

At that he smiles.  "You already have helped me," he says.

I wrinkle my brow.  "Really?  With something like this?  If you mean the purse snatcher..."

He shakes his head.  "No," he says, "I mean that guy coming out of your office building that one day when we were meeting up after work."

I try to remember back.  "Charlie?" I ask.

Cornelius nods.  "Charles Anders," he confirms.

I lean in and whisper, "That guy beats his wife?  I see him at work at least once a week."

Cornelius shakes his head.  "His wife beats him," he whispers, seeming a little uncomfortable again.

My eyes grow wide.  "You're kidding."

Another head shake.  And then he looks straight at me and says, "You can't say anything."

"Of course not," I say.  And then a pause and, "Is that why you didn't say anything to me before?  You thought I would go around telling people."

"I didn't know you well enough back then," he claims.

"Bullshit!" I exclaim.  "You saw my future!  You probably see it every time you look at me!  You know me plenty well!"

He shrugs.  "I suppose I do," he says.

"So you're telling me you saw me telling someone about it?"

"I saw you treating him differently," Cornelius admits.  "Asking him if everything is okay.  Feeling sorry for him.  It would have made him uncomfortable.  Probably still will."

"But he's okay now?  He's wife's stopped?"

Cornelius nods.  "I think so," he says.  "Have you noticed anything different about him at the office."

"He does seem a little more depressed," I say.  "Which isn't a good thing.  I actually did almost ask him the other day if he was okay."

Cornelius stares at me for a while and then says, "when you see him tomorrow.  Check for a wedding ring."

"They got divorced?" I ask.

He nods.  "Seems that way, but don't say anything to him, please."

"I won't," I say.

Silence as I sip my water and then, "You know you could have just told me not to say anything originally."

"I'm sorry," he says.

"No, it's okay," I say.  "I appreciate you trying to treat this as a normal relationship, actually, avoiding to drill into my brain by looking at my future, getting to know about me the normal way."

He smiles.  "I figured you would," he says.  When I look up at him a little surprised he says, "I'm sorry, I looked far enough ahead to see that much."  And then he adds, "but you have to understand, I don't always see details.  In fact with you, there are still lots of things that are unclear."

I feel my pulse quicken and ask, "So some things have started to become clearer?"

He forces a smile and says, "A few things."

"Like what?"

His smile becomes a little more genuine.  "You've come a long way from being angry and not believing me to wanting to know every little thing I see," he says.

"That didn't answer the question," I point out, and then take another sip of water.

Cornelius frowns and then conveniently pauses to finish off the last couple bites of his sandwich, wipes his face, and says, "I'm not sure there's more I need to tell you right now."

"You don't trust me?"  I feel a little hurt, betrayed.  I've started to really like and trust Cornelius and thought he was starting to trust me more, too, but now I feel like he's holding out on me.

But then he says, "No, it's not that, not exactly."

"You think we won't be friends anymore."

"Again, not exactly."

"Well then what is it?"  I'm ashamed I really want to know what it is that he's refusing to tell me about my future, like even more than I wanted to know about the murders and violent crimes stuff that I backed off on when I realized he wasn't comfortable.  Somehow, as unfair as it might be to him, I feel like this is my own life and he should tell me what he knows if he's figured something out.

He sighs.  "I promise you," he says, "I have a really good reason for not telling you everything."

"Because you think I'll mess it up."

He shakes his head.  "No, I wouldn't say mess it up," he says.  "Just change it."

"Change what?"

"Nothing," he says.  Then he sighs and glances down at his empty plate and then back at me.  "Listen," he says, "I can tell you this, things seem to be shifting towards a happy reunion for you and Clara.  In fact, I am nearly certain that's the outcome that will come to be.  But it won't be without sacrifice."

"I'd do anything to get back with Clara," I blurt out.

He smiles.  "I know," he says.  "I know you'd say that and I know you think it.  I just want you to know that the sacrifice is going to be more than just for Clara.  It really is.  Don't feel bad when it happens."

Now I just feel confused.  "What are you talking about?" I ask.

He shakes his head and tries to smile but looks a little uncomfortable.  "Nothing," he obviously lies.  "Just forget about it for now.  You'll understand later.  Just trust me."

"I do," I say.

"I know."

Awkward silence.

"Listen," he says, glancing at the clock, "I have to get back to work, but lunch is on me today."

"No way," I protest.  "I ask you all these awkward questions and you answer them even though you don't want to and then offer to pay?  This one's on me."

He smiles.  "Was I that obviously uncomfortable?" he asks.

I smile back.  "Cornelius, buddy," I say, "you're a great friend, but you're often uncomfortable and not all that good at hiding it."

He just keeps smiling and says, "Thanks.  It means a lot to hear you say that."

I laugh as I walk over to the counter to pay for our meals.  "That you're often uncomfortable."

"No," he says, and I know that I knew what he meant, and he says exactly what I expect, "that you consider me a great friend."