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Book online «The Forum Marie Reyes (book series for 10 year olds txt) 📖». Author Marie Reyes



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upbringing, yet he just took it all for granted while other people suffered. His self-pity made him sick, but it was like an addiction he couldn't quit. He pulled the tight gloves over his hands and grabbed the handles of the tray. She was right; this thing was seriously heavy.

The dining room was bright and busy, assaulting his senses. Martin set the tray of chicken pieces down on the main table.

"Hi Martin. So. Just take a plate, serve each person, one portion each. That's one piece of chicken, a scoop of mashed potatoes, and vegetables you can go wild. They're frozen and cheap, so we can always boil up some more if needed. Use the ice cream scoop for the potatoes, just to keep things consistent. Then, if there's anything left towards closing, then we can always do seconds. Sound good?"

"Yep. Seems easy enough."

"Oh, and try to be as friendly as possible. Sometimes the conversation is even more important than the food y'know."

That was the bit he was not prepared for. The conversation. He used to be able to hold a conversation with no problem, but now it seemed beyond him. Something had broken inside of him one day, and now, he couldn't seem to connect with anyone. A dividing wall had been erected in his mind, there was him, and there was everyone else on the other side. Just smile. Talk about anything. It's fine.

"Hi," he said as he served the first person. He searched his mind for conversation topics, but they were fuzzy, undefined concepts floating away. They didn't seem to mind. He served them — they kept their head down. He said his pleasantries.

"Hi, I'm Lisa." A girl came with a huge metal bowl of bread rolls. She had bright blond hair, one of those friendly, genuine faces, and she floated around with ease, making it look so easy. A ray of sunshine in his miserable day. "Clarissa said you were a little anxious. Don't worry. We're all friendly here."

~~~

Martin sat across the table from Lisa and looked down at his cookie.

"You did good," she said. "It was a busy night. Seems to get busier every day."

"Life's hard, and I swear it's only getting harder. Jobs are so hard to come by these days." He broke a piece of his cookie but couldn't bring himself to eat it.

"I think you're right." She sighed and then turned to the man next to her. One of the people he'd served earlier. They talked as if they had known each other a long time. He must have been a regular.

Martin's phone whirred as it vibrated against the table, so he picked it up and unlocked the screen, if only to have something to hide his awkwardness. He had a message from the group asking if he'd seen the new link yet and his heart quickened, fluttering in his chest like a butterfly caught in a net. Another murder? It had to be. He didn't waste any time going back to the forum.

 

Not.all.heroes.wear.capes: Don't think I can't see you've started up your own private group. I told you to leave it alone, but you just couldn't help yourselves. It's almost as if you're enjoying all this as much as I am. Y'all want to be involved so bad. Why don't you click on the link?

Martin broke into a cold sweat, and the room seemed to spin. He clicked the video to see a woman just sat on the couch watching the television. Was the killer in the house with her? He couldn't be, she would be able to see him from where the camera was positioned. It must have been a small hidden camera, but he must have already been there to plant it. It just looked like any other home.

Nothing stood out to him to signal where it might be, and he wished he could just scream through the camera at her, warn her. The first thing he did was email the video to both the police in Chicago and Milwaukee, just in case lightening would strike in the same place twice. They hadn't had a substantial response to their previous contact, so he posted it to their Twitter accounts. Maybe a member of the public would recognize her. Maybe the public would pressure them into taking the videos seriously.

"Martin?" Lisa looked at him with worry. "Everything okay?"

"Sorry, I have to go." He went to get up. The metal legs of his chair made a grating squeak as they dragged along the floor.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing. I'm a good listener." She had a steely look of persistence on her face, like she wouldn't drop it unless he just walked straight out of there and didn't look back.

"It's stupid."

"Hey. No judgment here."

Fine, he thought. If he made a fool out of himself, he didn't have to come back. "There was this online video of someone being murdered. Me and some other people were trying to track the guy down, but now he's posted a third video, this time, the victim's still alive, but they've said that if we don't find out who they are in time he's going to..." He realized how ridiculous this sounded.

She just looked at him in disbelief, literally speechless.

"I told you."

"Show me the video." She looked intrigued, but skeptical.

He apprehensively passed over his phone and her eyes narrowed as she honed in on the screen. "Hey, James, what do you make of this?" She held up the phone between them. He shrugged, likely having other worries on his mind. Lisa passed the phone back. "Yeah, I don't know. Looks like every living room in Canada. Sorry I couldn't help. Is this for real though? Are you sure this isn't some elaborate practical joke?"

"I should probably go now."

"Well, if you want to do

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