He walked across the city checking the GPS device every now and then, not caring that he wasn’t making any progress towards headquarters. His anger had cooled to a smoldering warmth inside his chest, ready to ignite at any given moment. He had been going in circles the last hour, completely ignoring the coordinates the woman on the phone had given him. He knew they knew where he was thanks to the little tracking device they had fitted him with right before his assignment. He figured if he didn’t turn up, sooner or later they would come looking for him. He had just turned the corner on his fourth lap when he noticed a dark, unmarked sedan driving deliberately towards him.
Well, here they are. He thought. They took longer than expected, but here they are.
The sedan pulled up along side him and an oily voice issued from the open backseat window.“Get in the car Mr. Rhybrook.”
The door opened and he wondered if they would shoot him if he ran. Not that it would do him any good to try and disappear. If he tried to remove the tracking device, it would release a biological agent that would cause his body to start shutting down, until he was completely incapacitated. They had demonstrated the effects of a disrupted tracking device on an unfortunate stray they had picked up on their way to the lab. There were too many strays in the city anyhow, and he wasn’t too put out to see one put to such use. He slid into the back seat and closed the door.
“Mr. Rhybrook,” a man in dark glasses addressed him from the passenger side of the vehicle.
“Call me Aaron. My dad is Mr. Rhybrook.” He chuckled to himself, thinking that line sounded just as idiotic saying it, as hearing it.
The man in the glasses cleared his throat and started again, “Mr. Rhybrook, you have failed to accomplish your assignment. As per our agreement dated the tenth of March, you are hereby the sole property of Middlegamut Industries. Your home, and all personal effects therein have been moved to headquarters, with an addendum stating your dog be cared for by a Mrs. Lotty Abrams, neighbor. Furthermore, Middlegamut Industries reserves the right to catalog and confiscate any and all items in your home that could compromise your service to us. This includes, but is not limited to all electronic devices, books, photographs...”
Aaron tried looking out the window, but found it to be impenetrable. He couldn’t remember if it was day or night, and glanced at the GPS device for help, but it had stopped working once he entered the car, as did his watch. He closed his eyes as the man droned on and on about policies, punishments, and in short, the reaping of his soul. He could feel the hum of the car engine and wondered how long before they arrived at headquarters.
“Mr. Rhybrook.” A distant voice echoed inside Aaron’s head.
”Sir,” the voice was now clear and very near his ear, “we have arrived. You must exit the vehicle.”
I arrive at the house early. My way too expensive handbag digs into my shoulder and I wonder if I’ll end up with some nasty nerve damage. I’m still not sure how her card came into my possession, but I am not going to question my good fortune. I am tired of being single, and ready to try just about anything to change that, no matter how bizarre the means. Don’t get me wrong; I have certainly had my share of relationships. Girl meets guy, guy wants goodies, girl gives in, guy dumps girl and moves on to the next willing idiot. I am done with that song and dance. I want total commitment, total devotion, and a slice of happily ever after. That is why I am standing resolutely in front of number two twenty seven, Caraway Lane.
The door opens and I am ushered into a vast sitting room. I drop my bag to the floor and it makes a dull thump on the hardwood floor. Right away I notice the books. Each wall is lined from floor to ceiling with them. I can’t imagine ever having enough time to read that much, and wonder if she has read them all. Part of me wants to climb up the rolling ladder and run my fingers along their bindings, but the rational part of me keeps my butt on the sofa. I tear my eyes away from the myriad volumes lining the walls and am surprised to see a small silver box sitting benignly on the coffee table in front of me.
The box is slightly larger, and deeper than a pack of playing cards, and is covered in a delicate design. I draw closer to make out the design and hear, or rather feel, a humming, and vibration coming from the box. The top and edges of the box are adorned with intricately etched hearts. Inside each miniscule heart is a name. I try to make out some of the names, but every time I think I have one figured out, my eyes water up, and the letters swim out of focus. I am concentrating so hard on reading a particular name that I fail to notice the woman standing in front of me. A cool hand touches my cheek and I reluctantly draw my face away from the silver box.
The woman takes the seat opposite me and I feel shabby and beautiful in the same moment. She sits tall and straight with an air of confidence that draws me in, and makes me feel at ease. Her ebony hair falls in long sheets down her back, and she fixes me with a stare that lodges straight into my heart.
“I am Redocia.” She says. “You are here because you aren’t capable of tying your heart to someone else’s. I will help you with that, but it comes with a price, tailored specifically to you. Are you willing to pay?”
I scoot excitedly to the edge of my seat, ready to answer yes, but she quickly puts a finger to my lips, shakes her head and gives a sad smile.
“So quick to answer without even waiting to hear what the cost to you will be. You are too hasty young child, much too hasty.”
Her words are spoken kindly, but they pierce me, and make me feel foolish and rash. I take a deep breath and somehow find the courage to look on her face. I feel rattled by the depth I see in her eyes, and comforted by the compassion in them. Her skin is smooth and flawless and I am ashamed of my own lackluster visage. I swallow, and then begin.
“My name is Jezie,” I say, “short for Jezabella. I am not exactly sure how your card found me, but it seemed like the right thing to come see you.”
I reach across my lap and pull a small, red business card out of the side pocket of my bag, and hand it to her. My bangs fall out of a hastily installed clip so I sweep them behind my ear, hoping they will stay tucked. She takes the card and slips it into her sleeve. I immediately launch into the story of my sorry love life, explaining how no matter what tactic I take with men, I always seem to come out the worse for wear. I talk for half an hour, and she never interrupts, never even bats an eye. When I finish, I exhale and feel empty and relieved. I wait, not knowing what she will say or do.
“Jezie,” she says, and my name rolls off her tongue and it feels as if she now owns a part of me. “I saw you admiring my silver box. It is my greatest treasure.” One of her pale fingers lovingly strokes the lid and I realize that she has clutched my arm in her firm grip. I open my hand, and she places the box on my palm. I feel the vibration emanating from it, and my hand tingles.
“Inside this box is my collection. There are few, if any women who can match my skill or passion in obtaining these highly desired objects. Before I offer the contents of the box to you, I must tell you a story. After you hear my tale, we will discuss payment for my services. You will have one chance to back out, and I will never hear from you again. Agreed?”
I nod. I am unable to speak because an odd stillness has crept into the cavity of my chest. Redocia stands and beckons me to follow her through a doorway that has materialized in the wall. I rise from the sofa, silver box clasped tenderly in my hand, and follow the tall stately woman through the door. I hesitate for a brief moment before stepping across the threshold, but an unseen hand pushes gently against my lower back, and I cross over.
The room is bright and airy and feels warm in contrast to the swirling snow outside the picture windows. I notice, for the first time, Redocia’s dress. It is a simple cut, with a plunging neckline and hugs her body like a glove. I look down at my own outfit feeling underdressed, only to realize I am no longer wearing my comfy jeans and sweater. My dress matches Redocia’s except in color. She stands by a window, her hand resting lightly against the pane of glass. I walk in her direction, but she lifts her hand and I am directed to sit on one of the two high backed chairs. She looks longingly out towards the horizon, and then settles herself neatly on the other chair.
“I am a beautiful woman,” she said, “and with such beauty I have tamed the hearts of many men, bending them to my will and making them my own. Beauty is not enough, though, to tame hearts.My beauty is enhanced by charm, wit and intelligence, making me powerful and dangerous.”
Her words make the silver box in my hand resonate, and I see dozens of the etched hearts begin to glow. She continues her story in a mild tenor voice.
“Inside that box are the heartstrings of men I have tamed. I have traveled the world, hand selecting, gathering, and keeping safe that most precious item a man possesses. I love them, and know them and they entrust a portion of themselves to me, until the time is right to release them to their match. I have the power to call them to me, no matter where in the world they are, and they come. I am able to bind them to women, like you, looking for a man to be bound to. I have never had a failed matching.” She stops her narration and takes a sip from a glass filled with amber liquid.
I look past her and notice the gathering dark on the horizon. The snow falls thick and wet, and I am sure my car is turning into an indistinguishable lump out front. I pull my gaze from the window and place my hands on my knees, still clasping the box. I feel like it is time to speak.
“Earlier you spoke of payment, something tailored specifically for me?” I finger the silver box and see five of the hearts increase in brightness, the names on them becoming a little clearer. “I believe I am ready to hear your terms.”
“You must give me something of great value as payment for my services. Something that will almost break your heart to part with.”
I place my hand over my heart and close my eyes letting my chin drop to my chest. A small locket presses against my warm skin. It is the only thing I have left of my mother. Her picture, the size of my pinky nail, rests next to a tiny lock of her golden hair. I look up and see Redocia shaking her head, letting me know the locket is not enough. I think hard, and dig deep into my soul. I ponder for some time and then it comes to me. I cry out, and a little gasp escapes my lips. My joy, my solace, my release, my piano.
“You are almost there.” She said with a sad, thoughtful look in her eyes.
I realize she isn’t looking for something tangible. She wants something that I have poured my heart into, something that defines who I am, and sets me apart. I am a pianist. I have spent years of my life perfecting my talent. It is then I realize that I have to pay with my talent.
“My talent,” I whisper, “you want to take my talent?”
“ I will never take anything from you. That’s not how it works. You have to give it to me willingly, in exchange for the heartstring of a man. A man who will be devoted to you, love you, cherish you, fulfill you, complete you.”She turns her attention to the silver box on my knees. I glance down as well.“I can see you are getting close to a decision. Only three hearts are glowing now.”
I look down and see two hearts on top of the box, and one on the side glowing brightly. The names on each golden heart show crisp and clear in bright red lettering. Benjamin, Daniel, Samuel. I turn the box slowly in my hands, studying each glowing heart intently. I want to touch each tiny heart, but something holds me back. I feel the beat of my own heart pound sharply against my ribs. Redocia slides the box out of my hands, and I know it is time, and I am ready.
Redocia stands, holding a hand out to me. I place my hand in hers and allow myself to be lead to another door. Before we cross this threshold, she stops.
“Here is where you leave your payment behind or leave my home forever. If you truly wish to make the payment, you will be charged as soon as you walk through this door. If you wish to leave, another door will be open, and you are free to leave. Your payment will you’re your heart feel broken, almost beyond repair. It has to be this way to make the binding work. It will be painful, but you must give it willingly.”
I nod my understanding and cling tightly to her hand. I close my eyes, willing my heart to relinquish the years of practice, study, and love I have stored there; the years of dedication, tears and frustration. I inhale, then exhale, then step through the door. The pain is immediate and sever. I collapse in a heap and begin to retch in agony. I am alone.The room is dim and cold, and I feel completely abandoned.
In the far corner of the room I see a bright glow. The light gives me courage and I am drawn towards it. I find the silver box sitting on the floor, and realize the hearts are the source of light. I pick it up. The box feels warm and it resonates, cheering my broken heart a little. I look over the names again. Benjamin, Daniel, Samuel. I say each one out loud, feeling the name in my mouth and drawing it into my soul. After a time, only one name remains on my lips. Samuel. I reach down and touch the heart with his name on it. The box opens, revealing a velvet- lined interior. In the center of the box is a single heartstring, thrumming softly. I pick it up and place it against my chest, feeling the man it belongs to. My heart envelopes it, and the empty places begin to be filled.
A voice I have never heard before, but somehow recognize, calls my name. I turn toward the voice and see a man standing beside Redocia. My heart recognizes him, and I walk towards him, a shy smile on my face. He reaches out to me and I fall comfortably into his warm embrace. I feel his warmth and realize he has already given his heart to me, that it is mine to care for and love. My payment for this man’s heart seems like a trifle compared to the overwhelming fullness of joy I have in this moment. I know, without a doubt, the Matchmaker has once again made a perfect match.
