David Henson

The One

David Henson

I thought I'd finally found the one. I was going through the express lane at GroceryMart and looked at her sheepishly as I put down my 13th item. I thought I was in for dagger eyes, but instead, with a smile sweeter than the box of cheery flakes I'd just bought, she said, “No problem, hon.”

I couldn't sleep that night for thinking about her. Her store badge said “Suzanette.” What a musical name. What a smile. And that voice. It could charm honeybees. “No problem, hon.” She called me “hon.” I couldn't think of a thing about her I didn't like.

I went back to the store the next day and bought a loaf of bread I didn't need. Sure enough, when she saw me, she unwrapped that smile again.

“I thought we would have a cup of coffee when you get off work,” I said.

Her smile disappeared so fast I could practically hear a sucking sound, and she shook her head without saying a word. She could have at least been courteous enough to make up some excuse. Sorry, I have to walk the dog. Sorry, I have a toothache. I stood there, my face red as a beefeater tomato, then paid and walked away.

On my way out I passed a badge that said "Steve — Assistant Manager." “Thank you for shopping with us, sir.”

I stopped. “You know, Steve, you should talk to that cashier in the express lane. She’s very unfriendly.”

We both looked toward Suzanette. She was staring right at me and must've known I was complaining about her because she looked none too happy.

Driving home from the store, I noticed a black SUV behind me. I made a couple of turns and the SUV did too. That's when I understood. Suzanette had contacted her boyfriend, and he was following me. Probably some burly guy named Fred. Probably going to follow me home and accost me. I knew I'd have to pull into the garage and shut the door immediately. Then I realized that wouldn't do. Fred would know where I live, wait till the wee hours, B&E my house and who knows what? I decided to drive to the police station. Fred must've caught on though because he quit trailing me before I got to there. I breathed a sigh of relief and went home.

I had no sooner gotten inside when the realization punched me in the gut: Suzanette’s boyfriend would be on the lookout for my white Toyota. The next morning I went to Big Bill’s Best Used Cars and traded for a blue Buick. Big Bill must have smelled the desperation on me cause I didn't get a very good deal.

I felt better after changing cars, but something about the whole situation still pecked at me. The next day I decided to do some reconnaissance. I put on a wig and fake beard I need to wear sometimes and went back to GroceryMart. I hovered nonchalantly around the express lane till I saw Suzanette being extra friendly with some guy. It had to be Fred.

I followed him out to the parking lot to a red Jeep. He must've traded like I did. Just a coincidence? Not likely. He traded so he could sneak up on me. He must think I'm stupid. I trailed him to a bungalow on the south side of town. Exactly the kind of place I knew he’d have. But now I had the advantage. I knew where he lived, but he didn't know where my house was. Or did he?

I suddenly felt my heart thumping in my feet. My tags. Fred would’ve made a note of my license plate when he was following me. Can you find out where somebody lives if you know their tags? Well you can for sure if your brother’s a cop. Suzanette's boyfriend’s brother’s a cop! Just my luck. Could it get any worse? I guess if Fred were a hit man for the mob, that would be worse. How do I know he isn't? I bet he is. Fred’s brother is a cop, and Fred himself is a hit man. I knew I didn’t stand a chance.

I stayed up all night sitting at the front window in the dark with a shotgun on my lap. I realized this couldn't go on. I had to do something bold. I had to kidnap Suzanette.

My plan was to snatch her, but not ask for ransom. Not money anyway. I was going to get word to Fred and his brother that I'd release Suzanette only if they pledged — in writing — to leave me alone. I knew where Fred lived, so I'd slip a note under his door. I was even going to write the pledge for them and put a big “X” where the killer and the cop needed to sign. I'd give them instructions to put the signed paper under my welcome mat. Why not? They already knew where I lived. By then, I'd have Suzanette at my house so she could sign too. Then I was going to let her go, and the nightmare would finally be over.

The next evening I went back to the store around closing time. I had on a wig and fake beard again. Different ones. I need to change them up sometimes. When Suzanette left, I followed to her car, eased a hammer out from under my sweater — and froze. How hard do you hit somebody on the head with a hammer to knock them out without hurting them? I had no idea. I should've Googled it. I needed a different plan.

That night sitting at the window with my shotgun; I came up with my new tactic. Later that night, I fell asleep, dropped the gun and almost shot my foot. Almost. I'm fine.

I went to GroceryMart mid-morning the next day when I knew Suzanette would be there and headed straight for the express lane. No disguise. I wanted her to know it was me. When it was my turn, I handed her a check for $500, my life savings. Actually I'd left $50 in my account, but she didn't know that.

“Here, take this. Please leave me alone. And tell your hit man boyfriend and his cop brother.”

Suzanette gasped and feigned confusion. “What are talking about? Get away from me.” Quite the actress.

The next guy in line took a harsh step toward me, his eyes mean as fists. “There a problem here?” He looked like an undercover police officer. Of course. It was Fred's brother, staking out the express lane.

“Just take the money and call off the dogs,” I whispered to Suzanette and hurried for the exit.

At the door, a woman looking at her phone almost barged right into me. “Oh, I'm sorry,” she smiled.

What a sweet voice. She seemed intelligent. Nice personality too. And those eyes! I expected bluebirds to fly out of them any second. I knew, right then and there, that she was the one.