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Chapter 8
Shelby waited nervously under the bleachers, wondering what could be so important to bring her out to a deserted location. In the back of her mind she felt like she could have easily jumped back into her car, locked the doors and sped away, but she instinctively knew that she had to stay to find out what information the mystery man could provide for her.
One last chance for her to jump into her car and drive away, the mystery man was nearing the spot where Shelby was. Not sure what kind of news she would hear, she leaned against her car, trying to look casual and all the while feeling like she was sticking out like a sore thumb.
The man was walking up to her with his hand extended to greet her; she noticed immediately his height, unusual to see a man of seven feet tall. He really would stick out in the crowd, she laughed silently to herself thinking that he might have been less obvious had they met at the local basketball courts. As he approached Shelby was careful to note everything she could about this unknown stranger.
He was wearing a black trench coat; she was surprised that he had a coat long enough to provide any protection from the elements. A carefully placed fedora adorned the mystery man, however a piece of hair that was wayward snuck out from behind his hat, showing silver grey. He wore what looked like spats, a shoe style that had long since lost its appeal to the population in general. In his left hand he carried an umbrella, which was not a surprise given the drastic changes in the climate in the past thirty years.
Shelby took a deep breath as she extended her hand to meet with the hand that was extended in front of her. The handshake was firm and she noticed that his hands were covered by leather driving gloves. This was not all that surprising when considering his clothing choices, it all seemed to belong together.
Offering Shelby a cigarette, the man lit a cigar and she could tell by the way he held the cigar that it must have been expensive. He gingerly nipped the end of the cigar and carefully closed his lips around the cigar, taking deliberate puffs while holding a match to the end of the cigar. Shelby politely refused the cigarette, she had not ever had much of an interest in smoking, she was not sure why she had never picked up that habit and determined that she already had enough habits dictating her actions of the day.
The mystery man stood silently, staring into space and taking a long drag of his cigar before he began to talk to Shelby. “It is very important that you understand that we are both in grave danger and so I will not be able to answer any of your questions. For the sake of ease call me Mr. T and I’ll call you Mrs. C.” Shelby could feel a smile spreading across her face, she knew that she wasn’t outwardly smiling, but she could stop herself from the names that he chose; one a name from “the A-Team” and the other from “Happy Days”; toughness meets purity.
Shelby nodded indicating that she would not ask any questions of this mystery man. Taking a package from his coat pocket Mr. T began to explain why he asked her to meet him at the stadium.
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