He found himself on a grand staircase, the type they have in front of court rooms, museums and government buildings. There were columns that rose up high -seemingly forever. They were enormous in girth, making Isak feel like an ant in comparison to the structure. About a half dozen people were climbing the staircase, looking at him with the same puzzled look as he did them. Anxiety flowed through his veins with such a surge that he felt he was going to explode.. He climbed to the surface which resembled a veranda in black and white checkered tiles. He had dressed up for the occasion, having chosen his best suit (the navy blue pinstriped one).
"Welcome!" she said, seeing her visitors finally make it up the stairs. She was alone in the large landing like a chess piece on an empty board sitting in her wheelchair. She was old, about 70 or 75. Her aura resonated affluence through her speech and her feeble hand motions. Isak, turned to see the stairs one more time and wondered how she moved in and out of her property. She began to speak to the group, although, for that moment he couldn't quite hear what she was saying. It was as if he was submerged in a pool of water and the voices came from the surface. Even his vision had become somewhat blurry. With difficulty he tried to gather himself as the guests began moving, following the wheelchair into her home.
They entered a large room that resembled a study which was partially lit, illuminating only the area where they were standing causing the walls to be invisible. The lady spoke to each person before turning to Isak. She extended her arm and asked, "Can you find it?" He began to fidget, as uncertainty took over him. "What is it?" he thought, "Is it a family heirloom? Is this why she gathered everyone here. To collect her belongings? The lady extended her arm once again, this time holding a check. "I know you can" she said as he unfolded it and marveled at the amount. "That is per month." she exclaimed with no irony in her voice. He glanced at the check once again and thought " 42 thousand dollars a month" as his fear of incompetence began to set in. He thought about the sum once again and gathered his courage; "I'll get it" he replied with a faux-tone of confidence.
She approached Isak and introduced him to one of the visitors. "He will accompany you" she said, pointing at a man who was of medium height and weight and looked foreign. He carried an awkward looking bag on his shoulders and was carrying multiple electronic devices with him. "I will navigate " the man said with a thick accent the rest is up to you . His gadgets were GPS tracking devices and cellular phones and the man seemed to press a button on virtually all of them at one point or another. He looked like a man playing a piano whose keys had been scattered all over the room.
-------------
The 2 sat in the car in downtown Manhattan in a small side road by Wall Street. "He will be here in about 10 minutes" the Navigator said. He will get out of his car and go into that building there. Isak saw his gestures and heard his words but paid no attention as he was deep in his own thoughts - swimming in his own fears. He opened the door of his car and stepped out of the passengers seat. He practiced what he would say as he knelt by the side of the car smoking a cigarette. A black car pulled up exactly 10 minutes after the Navigator informed him. A large chubby man with brown thinning hair stepped out accompanied by 2 escorts. "That is him, That is HIM quickly!" the Navigator exclaimed! The man was wearing a beige raincoat, typical of a Manhattan businessman. There were 2 men in dark suits accompanying him.
"Excuse me, sir, excuse me" Isak approached the man and his entourage.
"Who are you?" Asked the man, with panic in his eyes as his bodyguards reached inside their jackets.
"I just want to ask you about this" Isak took out a photo of what he was shown back at the home.
"What about it?" asked the man as he continued walking
"I need to get this from you, its an important heirloom to my employer, she would be willing to compensate you for it" Isak new that she hadnt offered to pay, but he wanted to find out how much it would cost for the man to be willing to part with it.
"Its not for sale" the man said as he continued his stampede towards a gray building.
"Everything is for sale sir, Ill pay anything" Isak was eager to get the man to respond with any kind of price. It would acknowledge that he would sell it although completely overpriced.
"This..." the man said while pulling it out of his isnside pocket, "....is not for sale"
The gold medallion was looped on a chain and was in need of a polish. It was understood that for both parties it had more sentimental than financial value. A colorful feather was attached to it. It was odd, unlike anything he had ever seen before. He pondered on the difficulty of taking away something of sentimental value from someone. Especially someone who didnt look like he was in need of money. He needed to make a bold move.
Isak pulled out his check from inside his pocket and held it with both hands from opposite ends.
A trade he told the man as they approached the building door. He was eager to show his employer that he was a good choice. He wanted to show his potency as a negotiator with a fast recovery of the item. So in an instant he had thought of the check in his pocket. This would be the quickest way to put an end to this issue. He would sacrifice his first paycheck to prove himself. As he held it out, the man exclaimed 42 thousand dollars? in awe that someone can offer that type of money in an instant for something that couldnt be valued more that $2,000 - $3,000 by a jeweler. Seeing the mans reaction, he had second thoughts about giving him the full check. He knew half would have gotten him to his goal but there was no time for complicated exchanges
-Hand me what I want and Ill hand you the check, the full $42,000
-OK
He felt the object touch his palm and smiled. Success was euphoric, he longed for it.
* * *
Isak leaned over and looked at the time. It was 5 45 in the morning. The roof of his mouth and his tongue felt like they had gotten stuck together by some sort of adhesive. The alcohol had deyhdrated him and he needed water. He stumbled over to the refrigerator drank and took the bottle with him to his room. He had been dreaming and uncharacteristically remembered every event. He could still taste the vodka and Redbull in his mouth. Tired, he crashed into the bed again.
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