Sam

[dinamic50925]

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. The midday sun shone piercingly upon the café, forcing the scavenging birds into the confines of the maple trees, where they sat eyeing each other suspiciously. The café's patrons too, seemed to be feeling the heat. Most lazed under the protection of the umbrellas, talking amongst themselves complacently. Others enjoyed the sun, chatting idly with their friends. The sun seemed to have brought a wave of relaxation upon the café. One man however, paid no attention to the mood of his fellows.

Sam Nady stared at his watch. Light reflected brightly off its face, highlighting his pale forehead. He frowned. It was almost time to go. Sam looked up, seemingly oblivious of the café around him, he gazed into the blue sky. It seemed to mesmerize him, his youthful face lit up and for a moment his features seemed to align in what looked like a smile. Sam forced himself to stop day dreaming. He was here for a reason, It was important that he not be late. Others were relying on him.

With a swift movement Sam pulled himself up from his chair. He moved quickly from the café, towards the street, Shuffling his feet as he moved. Sam paced down the footpath, brushing past the more slower and relaxed crowd. Looking up he noticed, about 10 meters in front of him, an old man staring in his direction. Anxiety shook Sam. Forcing himself out of shock, he pressed on, head down. Passing the old man, Sam snook a glance and noticed that the man still gazed in the same direction. A wave of relief swept through his body. Sam was unusually nervous today, and he cursed himself for being so. Now was not the time for such things

Sam stared again at the sky. Though this time he didn't smile, his face portrayed a much more serious emotion: distress. Sam was not sure if he had made the right decision in coming here, and the anxiety he was feeling now was certainly not quelling his regret. If the meeting didn't work out, there would be dire consequences. Sam did not know what to expect. Frustrated with himself, Sam pulled his mind from his day dream. How dare he doubt the plan. Doubting himself was doubting the plan. And this was not acceptable. He made a commitment, others were relying on him. This was for his family.

The crowd on the street was concentrated, and as Sam progressed, he found himself increasingly having to push past idle pedestrians. Glancing at his watch, Sam noticed that he was early, but this did nothing to soothe the grim feeling of anxiety that now caused his stomach to ache in pain. Sam was dreading the meeting, and he was having much trouble trying to keep his emotions secret. His knees shook, his hands vibrated and his face assumed a white colour far paler than usual. But Sam's response was simple: he forced himself to walk faster.

A loud screech sounded somewhere behind Sam. Sam looked up, the realization of where he was hit him bolt of lightning. He had failed to keep track of his direction and had stumbled unconsciously onto a busy intersection. However he was not the only one. A young child stood several feet behind him. Sam acted quickly, he moved swiftly for the child, grabbing her before plunging towards the corner; just in time to avoid the oncoming traffic. The child writhed free?) free of Sam's grip, running towards a tall women who appeared to be her mother. The women approached Sam as he got up. "Thank you" she spoke softly, "I don't know what would have happened". "That's alright" responded Sam. He turned to go, but she stopped him, "Is there anything I can do?" "No, it's fine" responded Sam uneasily, "I'm in a hurry, sorry". With that, he turned and left, shaking even more readily than before.

The pain in Sam';s stomach was becoming almost unbearable. But he must press on. The meeting rendezvous must go according to plan. They had killed his parents, taken their home, taken away Sam's life, and now was his chance for revenge. His friends had picked him up off the street, given him a home. He had made a commitment, and he must honor it. Sam sucked in his stomach. Now was not the time to back down. Again Sam glanced at his watch, it was almost time.

Sweat dripped down Sam's face. This sweat was not however the result of the heat, the droplets that now engulfed Sam's skin were the kind of fear. He progressed down the footpath as fast as he could, though given the large groups of people now present almost everywhere, this task was becoming consistently harder. Walking past a florist, Sam saw, out of the corner of his eye bunches of African Daisies .These had been his mother's favorite flowers and seeing them acted as encouragement, prompting him to walk faster. With a sigh of both relief and anxiety, Sam reached Main Street. It was almost time, and he was almost there. The crowd on Main Street was the most substantial yet. It fluctuated in an out, constantly moving and yet still gave the impression that it was stationary. It reminded Sam of a hovering swarm of bees. Sam plunged into the crowd, hands in his pockets, positively shaking with fear. He rushed through the crowd, almost having to push and shove to make his way. When Sam was a about half way through the crowd he stopped abruptly, resting in front of a large department store. He was here, he had done it. Sweat now flowing freely down his face, tears almost forming in his eyes. Sam removed his hands from his pockets, and brought with them the explosive. Staring, for one last time into the sky, Sam trigged the firing pin.

For a moment everything was white. When the light faded, and the smoke and dust settled; the crowd that had before been so active now ceased to move. Sirens wailed distantly, shouts of terror were heard in the foreground, chaos was everywhere. Amongst the panic, relativity unnoticed, the mother and child Sam had encountered only minutes before now lay silent.