22. AutOOPSIE

103 22 71
                                    

Some people find it hard to get back from work on a Friday afternoon and go out with their friends. The introvert in them prefers to stay inside, reading a good book, and spending some alone time to relax.

Others, on the other hand, struggle to stay in and always picture Friday evenings as their time to escape reality, hang out with some companions, and have fun.

I, thankfully, didn't have either of these problems anymore, since my Friday afternoons were for time-traveling lessons.

I did have, however, one small issue.

A few hours earlier, both Marc and I agreed that we had to ask Sam about Bob's funerals. He was our friend, after all, and we needed to tell him one last proper goodbye.

And because Sam and I were pretty close, I was the one who had to ask her about it. However, seeing how fragile and delicate Bob's wife was, I was afraid this conversation would break her.

Accepting Marc's pat and encouraging words, I gathered my courage, left the office, and went to the base.

My search for Samantha lasted for around twenty minutes, but I finally found her near the cafeteria, with John, Dave, and a few other kids.

When she saw me, she dismissed the kids with a flip of her hand. They scattered around and ran away from us, some towards their dorms, others to the cafeteria. Some even went in the direction of the library, and it felt good seeing those children excited to read and widen their knowledge. Soon enough, Sam and I were the only ones left in the room.

-"Hey, Sam," I greeted her with a smile.

-"Hi, Paul!" She cheerfully replied. "How's work?"

-"It's good, it's good. I still have to finish this case I've been working on since Monday."

-"Oh, good luck, then," she chuckled. "How are the boys? Marc and Pierre?"

-"They're doing great! You know the little reunions we always do every morning?"

-"You guys are still doing these, huh?" she sighed, shaking her head. 

-"Yes," I laughed. "We are. It's the only time I get to talk to them, though. Well, there's lunchtime too, where we sit together and all, but anyway. Work has been overwhelming for the past few weeks, and I'm not seeing them as often as I used to. So these reunions are if you want, the only ray of sunshine during the day."

"I guess you boys will never learn. How many times did I tell you not to do it anymore? Mark my words: someday, the boss will catch you and your little tricks, and when that day comes, you will regret not listening to me," she joked.

Her tone was light-hearted and jolly.

"She's happy," my inner voice observed. Or at least, she was trying to be.

I didn't want to ruin her mood and break the little carefree bubble she was in, but I had to do it. It would do no good to delay or postpone this conversation.

Sooner or later, I had to bring this up and talk to her about it.

And so, for Bob, I opened my mouth, and started:

-"Speaking of the boys, I was talking to Marc today, and, umm, we were wondering when would the funerals be. It should be soon, right? I mean, logically, the pathologist takes a maximum of two days to finish the autopsy, and it's been more than a week since..."

-"The body is still with them," Samantha said, taking a deep breath. It was clear she has been avoiding this conversation, but she, too, knew that we had to talk about it.

"They said they still need to do a few more studies, but they didn't explain it further," she continued.

-"That's weird. Normally, it shouldn't take that long," I stated, confused.

-"Yeah, well, they told me that Bob was an... an unusual case," she stuttered. "They cannot seem to figure out who or what was behind his death."

-"Did you... Did they let you in the room? To see the body, I mean."

-"They did, once, yeah. And, the newspapers were right," she affirmed, swallowing hard. "There wasn't even a single injury on him. But his shirt, which they showed me shortly after, was covered in blood. Don't ask me how."

-"Didn't they do a blood analysis? It might have been the blood of someone else, and not Bob's."

-"They didn't show me anything else."

-"That's very strange. They can't be hiding reports."

Sam raised her eyebrows.

-"Well, they shouldn't be," I corrected.

If a relative came in asking for the details of the autopsy, it was their right to obtain it. Sam not getting the reports was something odd, bizarre, and abnormal.

-"So," she carried on, "the funerals will happen as soon as we get the body back. It will be a family-only ceremony, but you, Marc, and Pierre will get an invitation since you guys were like brothers to him."

-"Thank you, Sam."

-"I feel like I should be the one thanking you, Paul. You're slowly helping me accept his death. I don't think I could've done that without you standing by my side, so thanks."

Her reply warmed my heart and made a smile craft its way to my lips.

-"You're welcome, Samantha."

Looking at her, I couldn't help but notice the tense and strained look on her face. Even though she tried to act tough, she had been uncomfortable during this whole conversation.

I, therefore, tried to change the subject and attempted to make her feel better.

-"Anyway, have you seen James, Lucas, or Mathias? There's half an hour left before our training session, and I wanted to spend some time with them."

-"Aww, you've become friends already!" She exclaimed.

-"I wouldn't say we've become friends, but we've been hanging out and visiting the base together, the last few days."

-"That's amazing! Making new friends is one of the numerous advantages of being a time-traveler," she declared with a wink.

-"Yeah, it's pretty great," I agreed.

-"But what about Francesco? Who is he spending his time with?"

-"I don't know, and I don't care."

-"Woah, Paul. That's harsh. Go easy on that guy. He's human too, you know? He has feelings. You should talk to him more often. Might as well try and become friends."

-"Ha, as if that'll ever happen. He hates my guts. And the feeling's mutual. I don't think we'll ever be friends. And that's okay. We're both good like that."

Sam snorted. Yes, yes, you heard me right. She snorted.

-"We'll see about that, Paul. We'll see about that."

-"What does that mean?" I asked, suspicious.

-"I have a feeling fate is somehow against you, love," she smirked.

-"Oh, come on! Not you, too!"

A weary sigh escaped my lips.

-"Something wrong, Paul?" She inquired innocently.

I narrowed my eyes.

-"Just answer me. Have you seen them?" I said, stressing each word.

-"I did," she laughed, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. "They were near the atrium, the last time I saw them."

-"Okay, thanks!"

A hug and a quick goodbye later, I was walking down the hallway and towards the atrium.

L'affaire BobWhere stories live. Discover now