The Bonus

The Bonus

By Justin Neumann

Keira Jensen sat motionless at her kitchen table; a once-hot cup of coffee sat forgotten about her fingers lightly clutching the cup’s handle. Outside it had been raining, lost somewhere between a light mist and a steady drizzle, with an occasional faint rumble of far-off thunder. Her long strawberry blonde hair hung over her face, obscuring the dazed-blank look in her eyes. Her entire body felt numb and incredibly dense, as if she were sitting in a vat of sludge. It was as if her arms had been replaced with thick slabs of concrete, her fingers frozen, and a hundred-pound weight attached to her chest. Every breath was taxing as if she could not quite take a full inhalation. The knowledge pressed against her as a physical weight relentlessly constricting around her, immobilizing her and numbing her brain. She stared at the little black book with both disgust and foreboding disbelief. It couldn’t be right; because to believe had terrible and irrevocable implications. Her mind drifted back to the beginning, the beginning of that nightmare because it seemed to be the only thing she could do.

Her mind circled back to the fact that it was February 14th, and she was still single.

It wasn’t that she was unattractive; to think so would be conceded, although Keira didn’t believe she was beautiful either. She thought she was somewhere between average and good-looking. Heavens knew she had plenty of guys who had pursued her, but after her parent’s death, Keira simply couldn’t allow herself to love, at least not too soon. She knew it didn’t exactly make sense, but she felt to love someone else would be somehow be stealing away from the grief her parents deserved. This Keira knew to be accurate, and yet it wasn’t at the core of the problem.

Keira was running a simulation to see if it would duplicate the reoccurring issue. Garnet Thomas, who was working in the cubical next to her, was the guy she could have perused. Keira had made it clear she wasn’t looking to date, anybody. Durant was cute and someone she truly liked. He was muscular but not bulky, with a cocky grin and equally intelligent eyes. What Keira liked most, what she had, on occasion, daydreamed about, was plunging her hands in his hair to run the back of her hand down his face and feel his beard stubble tickle her.

If she dated, then there would be conversations she was not ready to have, and the thought of those questions had instilled a panic-tight fear, shrouding her with incapability of affection. It wasn’t something she neither wanted nor cared to overcome. It… Garnet had tapped three times on the cubical wall; this meant that it was Shad on the phone, and Keira’s complacent rambling simmered to abated breath. Then Garnet was repeatedly tapping on the cubical wall, his hand working feverishly. Kiera had no idea what exactly this means, as there was no code for two dozen feverishly rapping knocks. She could not resist and stood up, her line of sight just above the wooden divider.

“Yes sir…yes…okay I will for sure…no thank you I…I will. Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Oh, for the love of God, what is it?” Kiera said, breaking the silence. She could hardly contain herself. By the look on his face, it was either exceedingly good or exponentially bad.

“You are not going

to believe this,” Garnett said. “He is giving us both a

twenty-thousand dollar bonus,” Garnet’s glossy-glazed eyes returned to the

nearly bewildered gaze.

Keira didn’t have to look into Garnets face to see if it was some elaborate prank. His bewildered gaze squashed any possibility of this being a joke. Keira swallowed heavily, not sitting down but falling back into her seat.

“He said he didn’t want to distract us from our deadline, so he has kept this a secret for about two months, you know about the time he started talking with what’s-his-face?” Garnet said, reeling. Suddenly Keira’s shoulders jerked violently upward as a wave of gooseflesh ripped first up her back, then down her arms. Garnet continued, “Shad said this deal is worth potentially billions worldwide and wants to compensate us accordingly with more payments to follow.”

When she got the apartment, it had been practical, a dump, but practical nevertheless, as it had been within spitting distance of DigiTech. Keira packed her suitcase and stood in the doorway of her apartment, hearing the baby crying on the floor below and the muffled yap of the dog from the floor above. Keira was correct about one thing, she never saw her apartment ever gain.

They descended the enclosed ramp, both mum with lost in thought. She paused long enough to look at Garnet, who had an equally confused look on his face. They were staring at a plane a half-step above an RC Flyer.

“This… can’t

be…right,” Keira said woefully. Her hand subconsciously groping at her

collar, her fingernails digging into her flesh, leaving dark red marks.

“I…umm,”

Garnet said wearily. “We are going to an airport in Brazil that

isn’t exactly…on the map..so...”

“Okay…so…no…I don’t

think getting in planes that I am taller than is a good thing,”

Keira said.

“I’m sure it will be…fine…”

Keira looked at Garnet,

whose opinion she genuinely valued, then sighed heavily. Then a wiry little

Irish man appeared; he had a speckled freckle completion and a severe hangover

look. “Okay then, upsy-daisy,”

Before Keira could protest, she was being ushered into the plane, ducking her head and cursing under her breath. She looked towards the wing; because, at this point, seeing duct tape on the wing would only enhance the experience.

The whole thing seemed like some crazy nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. I

didn’t think they allowed these puddle jumpers in international airports, Keira thought as she shoved her baggage under

her carry-on under her seat. Keira hated sitting by the wings, as

her overactive imagination always watched them flex and bow in the high winds.

Inevitably she could see them being ripped off by a powerful gust, jet fuel

spewing out behind them, their jet spiraling helplessly out of control.

“Ye aren’t going to blow chunks over my beautiful plane, are ya now?”

He handed Garnet a

couple of pills. “Here, these are for the wee squeamish type.”

“What is it?”

Kiera asked.

Garnet shrugged,

stuffing his into his pocket as Keira palmed hers, not comfortable taking a

pill from a stranger. A miserable half-hour later, Keira watched Garnet fish

his out with a feverishness and pale completion. He scrambled for his water

bottle, tore the lid off, after spilling only a quarter of it down his shirt,

and downed the pill. Keira thought, what

the hell, it cannot be worse than this, so she followed suit.

Keira awoke to the sound

of not rushing water but a lazy ceaseless rolling. The sun was spilling in

through her bedroom window at a relentless angle, which clamping her eyes shut

seemed to not help. She reached for her pillow but could find nothing, anything

to muffle that irritating blaze. I

must have one hell of a hangover, Keira

thought moodily. Her patients were just about up with the damn running water

too, and just by the way, what

is that running water. She

lay there for a moment, uncomprehending and groggy. My upstairs neighbor is flooding their bathroom, Keira thought. This did the trick. Keira’s eyes shot open,

and she fired up…not in bed, but…where exactly? Immediately she shielded her

eyes from the blazing sun, and after what felt like an eternity, Keira began to

look around. It was a beach…and then her brain fog began to lift. Keira heard

something else in the silence. It was a thwapping sound, which didn’t really

interrupt the waves but accentuated them as they ended like an unnatural

finality.

Keira looked around the beach, finding the source of the obscure sound. Waling, stumbling in the sand, Keira finally found the source of the sound. At first, it seemed innocuous, a piece of rubbish on the beach; but as reality asserted itself, her legs came unhinged and fell to her knees. Keira wasn’t aware she was screaming until she felt someone touch her shoulder. It was Durant.

The turquoise piece of rubbish was the inner plastic liner from the plane’s hull, and as much as she didn’t want to believe what happened. Keira couldn’t ignore the evidence sitting in front of her. Finally, she turned to Durant, who was on his knees beside her, his face a ghastly white incomprehension of shock.

“Do you know what

happened?” Keira asked.

He seemed incapable of

coherent speech, as the only thing which left his lips was an inarticulate

squawk. Finally, he resorted to shaking his head slowly and methodically, like

a slow-moving engine.

Keira felt for her

phone, which had been shoved in her back pocket, and wasn’t really surprised to

find it was not there. “Do you have your phone?” Keira asked. She

felt she knew the answer but needed to ask anyway.

For a long moment, she

didn’t think he would answer, but eventually, he nodded an almost imperceptible

shake of the head and produced a phone. For one heart-stopping moment, Keira

thought they might be in luck, but as she held the phone up, she saw a silvery

splash drip from the charging port. It was either dead or ruined. Once again,

Keira began to cry her ugly piggish squealing cry, not caring what anybody

thought.

Looking back at her was

a man she recognized but from a dream or a distant memory. “Ma’am, can I

please come in?”

She had been too caught

up in the moment, confused by the sound of the voice, the Irish accent, that

she hadn’t said no. Keira walked uneasily into the kitchen, feeling his gaze on

her, not in a lascivious way, but somehow worse.

She offered him a chair

and sat down in front of him. His sandy blond hair, his fading freckles were

bringing back memories of discomfort she couldn’t at once identify.

“I see that you

don’t really remember me, and for that, I am at least a wee bit thankful.”

Wee bit, now I know I’ve

heard that before.

“I haven’t been

able to live with myself since it happened, ma’am. When I saw you on the news,

welp, I couldn’t just sit back and say nothing, you know. You see, I was broke,

as in the bank was making abstracts to take back my house. I’d lost my job and

couldn’t afford to pay the bills, so…” He said. “You have to forgive

me…I…I was desperate. It was a simple drop off no questions asked. All I needed

to supply was a roofie and forget I’ve ever seen you. Den collect the

twenty-thousand dollars. I did, and I paid off that debt, but it ate at me so,

and I …”

“You are making this…making this up,” Keira said. Her body was going numb, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. “It was an…an accident…you see the plane crashed…it.”

Keira thought about it,

though, why twenty-thousand, the exact amount they had just been gifted by

their boss. The pilot, who’d been suffering from a hangover, a guilty conscience, and the details about the trip. Keira looked at him

and slowly shook her head.

“I don’t believe

you,” She said, finally making up her mind. “I…”

“Here,” He

said. He slid a stack of crisply printed $100 bills with a printed white label

and red ink stating $20,000. Beneath the cash was a little black book.

“Everything is

inside here. It is Garnet’s handwriting and his explicit instructions.

Now, looking at the worn black leather book, it caused a repulsion in Keira, which made her stomach flop bitterly. Her eyes widened as she heard the soft hum of Garnets car pull into the drive.