From the records of John Matteson
Dated 1 August 2028
“You look like shit,” Fox said as I walked into the office.
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Have you been drinking again?”
I slumped onto the couch. “A little. It’s not what you think, I just…needed a little.”
“The fact that you need it is the problem. Now get off your ass and clean yourself up, you have a client waiting in your office.” I pointed at my office door and silently expressed my confusion. “She didn’t give me a name, but swore you’d recognize her, the poor thing. So I let her wait there.”
I grumbled and went to the bathroom, to adjust my tie and clean up my face. When I was satisfied it was as good as it was going to get for now, I went into my office. “Good morning,” I said, closing the door behind me. “What can I do fo–” I froze as she turned to face me.
“Hi, John,” Lori said.
Twenty-three years, this November. It was like a timer went off in my brain, counting from the last time I’d seen her; one I didn’t even know was running. We stared at each other for a moment that felt way too long, and then I caught my breath and hurriedly made my way to my desk.
“Matteson,” I managed to get out, before clearing my throat and trying again. “People call me Matteson.”
She looked concerned as she leaned forward. “No one did until her, John,” she whispered. “You’re not–”
“What can I do for you, Lori?”
There was a long pause, and then she sighed and leaned back into her chair. “Are you familiar with Mystics Anonymous?”
“I am. I know a guy, Benedict de Monte, works with them.”
“I’ve met him. He said you were doing well, didn’t mention the eye patch. What happened?”
“That’s…new. It also isn’t why you came.”
“We’ve run into a problem.” She started to explain her role with the group, how she had spent the last two decades helping people deal with supernatural trauma, how she went back to school and became a psychiatrist. Apparently, she had tried to help some people in this small town in Massachusetts, but came to realize that whatever was causing the trauma was still active. “We don’t have people that deal with this sort of thing. I needed outside help, and you were the most qualified person I could think of. And, you know, it’s been a while, I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to have that conversation, but thank you. I can do Massachusetts. What do you know about this thing?”
“I’m under the impression it’s some kind of nature spirit, must be angry about something. I don’t know, John. I usually only deal with these situations after someone has been through it and needs help, and they tell me what they experienced, and sometimes the type of spirit that did it matters and sometimes it doesn’t. I don’t really know how to identify spirits in the field. What are your fees?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“John, no, don’t do that.”
“I couldn’t–”
“Don’t. I’m here to hire you because of your skill set, not because I’m looking for pity.” She crossed her arms and stared me down until I threw my hands up and leaned back.
“Fine. I can head up tomorrow. Make sure Fox has the address to send your bill.”
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to check in with some people here, and I flew in. Would you be okay with waiting until Thursday, and giving me a ride up?”
“Sure. Alpha will be happy to see you.”
“You still have the same car?”
“Always.”
She laughed and stood. “Thank you, John. I’ll meet you here on Thursday.”
I walked her out, waited while she gave Fox her information, then watched the door for a little longer than I realized after it closed behind her.
“So who is that?” Fox asked.
“Lori Berman.”
“Yeah, I got that.” She held up the paper she’d just written Lori’s info on. “Who is she to you?”
“You can lose that, by the way. I’m not billing her.” I dropped onto the couch and loosened my tie as I leaned back.
“Why would you wanna do that? Matteson, what the hell is going on here? Who is that woman, really?”
“I can’t bill her. Not after…I owe her, is all. It’s complicated. Old news. Don’t worry about it.”
“Look, Matteson. It doesn’t have to be me, I get it, but you need to talk to someone. All these secrets aren’t healthy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, getting up and heading into my office. “I’ll be out of the office starting Thursday.” I heard Fox grumble something as I closed the door behind me. Probably best not to find out what.
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