802

Murphy Temples walked through the busy streets of New York City with one hand in his suit pants pocket and the other holding his brief case. The sidewalks were just as crowded as the streets in the city, but this was nothing new to Murphy. He paced the restless pavement every day, which started to feel like routine after living in New York for a year. Being a citizen from England, the city life was foreign to Murphy at first. But he was able to situate himself comfortably within the first month; he took a liking to hotdogs and American women. Murphy grabbed a newspaper from the newsstand and continued on a short path to his apartment for a lunch break.

Murphy grabbed the mail from his mailbox before proceeding to his studio apartment. He dropped a piece of mail on the floor while closing the door to the mailbox. As he bent down to pick it up, a pair of elongated legs in heels stopped in front of him. He looked up to see Scarlett, his neighbor from across the hall. She asked him if he wanted to come inside her apartment for a cup of tea like people did in London. As much as he wanted to feel at home with her, he took a rain check and explained that he only had an hour for break. Scarlett agreed that another time would be best because she couldn’t resist his charm or accent. No woman could, which was why Murphy had a different lady friend to keep him company every night. Murphy slept with every woman in his apartment complex, and even though they all knew, it didn’t stop them from soiling his linen. Murphy was six feet tall with light brown hair and dark blue eyes. He was 31, but the dimples positioned on his cheeks convinced everyone that he was at least 28. He watched Scarlett go into her apartment before he unlocked the door to his own and walked inside.

Murphy was greeted by galloping paws and a wet nose. Murphy gave his dog a pat on the head and put the mail on the kitchen table. He walked to the living room and saw a flashing, red light on his answering machine; he pressed the button, loosened his tie, and waited for the message with anticipation. He frowned when he recognized the voice filling up the living room as his mother. He was hoping to hear back from a newspaper company about getting a job as a columnist. Murphy didn’t think that being an accountant was the career for him anymore; there were too many numbers and not enough sarcasm. He imagined typing up cocky commentary in the comfort of his own home and not having to worry about walking 10 minutes to his house for lunch. Murphy walked to the kitchen, grabbed left over lasagna from the fridge and placed it in the microwave. He picked up the newspaper and began the crossword while he waited for the food to heat up. He grabbed the newspaper, mail, and food and walked to the living room. He sat on the couch, took a bite of the lasagna and began sorting through the mail. There were bills as usual; phone bills, electricity bills, cable bills, hospital bills, and credit card bills formed a mound on the couch. He picked up the last envelope with a puzzled look. There were the numbers 802 in bold, black ink on the front with no return address; his name wasn’t even on it. Murphy was curious as to what the numbers stood for. He thought that maybe they were an apartment number, but none of the apartment numbers reached 800. Murphy thought that this was peculiar and that maybe the mail man put the wrong envelope in his mail box, but there was no way of knowing without any other information. He asked out loud if he should open it, as if expecting someone to answer him. He hesitated but continued to open the letter. He pulled a red piece of paper out of the envelope and uncovered that it was blank. Murphy examined the paper front and back, but there was no text on either side. Murphy thought it was complete rubbish, and that it had to be a joke. His mental process was then interrupted by a knock on the door. He looked through the peep hole but no one was there. He opened the door to reveal a package sitting on the floor.

Murphy ran out into the hallway to catch the deliverer of the package, but no one was there. He yelled that he didn’t have bloody time for this and walked back into his apartment while slamming the door behind him. He seized a knife from the kitchen and opened the box. There was another letter with the same numbers on the front. Murphy ripped the letter open and exposed yet another red piece of paper. He unfolded it and found that this time it wasn’t blank.

“Well isn’t this smashing?” he said sarcastically under his breath. His response was towards a letter W in black, bold font that protruded the red paper. He stared at the letter and tried to compose his thoughts to a reasonable explanation when a sound from inside the box caught his attention.

Murphy moved around the packaging foam from the box and pulled out a cell phone. He looked at the phone while an unknown number flashed across the screen. He answered the phone, but the other end was silent. Murphy said hello again and a male voice pierced his ear in response. Murphy asked who the stranger was, but the man responded with a laugh and asked Murphy if he had received his letters. Murphy asked again whom he was speaking to, but the other end was silent. Just as Murphy was about to interrogate him again, the mysterious gentleman asked Murphy if he wanted to play a game. Murphy couldn’t believe what was happening. He asked the man if he was calling him from a mental institution, but the man just asked Murphy if he wanted to play a game. Murphy replied with him not having time for games, but the stranger said that he would have plenty of time for his game. Murphy rolled his eyes and was about to hang up when he heard the sound of a gun reload. Murphy asked him what that noise was but he continued to hear the sound of the gun. Finally the man said that he had a gun placed on the temple of his head and if Murphy didn’t play the game, he would pull the trigger upon himself. Murphy could feel the blood rush through his body and his heart lunge inside his chest. He didn’t want to be responsible for any one’s death. Murphy agreed to play upon the terms that the game would be over in 20 minutes, so that he would make it for work. Murphy heard the man smile as he replied “Let’s begin”.

The strange man told Murphy that he would give him a puzzle and that he had only two minutes to solve it; if he didn’t answer it on time the trigger would be pulled. Murphy could feel the sweat start to build up under his arms and told the man he agreed to all of the terms. The man asked Murphy for a word that was a no calorie drink. Murphy thought long and hard because he didn’t want to give a false answer. He could think of two possibilities, but didn’t know what to choose. Murphy glanced at the red note with the letter W, and spoke the word water into the phone. The man congratulated Murphy on his accuracy and his ability to figure out that the red card was a clue. The man also suggested that all of Murphy’s experience with crossword puzzles had finally paid off. Murphy took the phone off of his ear and stared at it with astonishment. He wondered how this stranger could possibly know that he did crossword puzzles. When he put the phone back to his ear, a loud crash came from behind him.

Murphy ran inside the living room and saw that the window had been smashed. There were pieces of shattered glass all over the floor and a medium sized rock with an envelope rubber banded to it. Murphy picked up the rock and removed the envelope. He opened the letter and unveiled another red piece of paper with the letters R and E on it. Murphy suddenly received a text message from the phone that requested him to put his ear back to the phone. Murphy put his ear to the phone and the man gave him the next puzzle. Murphy had to think of a word that was a reply to roll call. But there were two possible answers and both had the letters E and R. Murphy studied the letters on the red background and the word here staggered out of his mouth. The man on the phone praised Murphy for his skills and reminded Murphy how close he was to getting the man killed. There was suddenly another knock on the door. Murphy could have freed the door from its hinges with irritation, but he calmed down when he saw it was Scarlett behind the door; she was holding an envelope.

Scarlett handed him the letter and told him that it was left on her doorstep and figured that the deliverer got the wrong apartment. He asked her how she figured that and she told him it was because the letter was addressed to him. Murphy looked at the envelope and this time the number 802 was followed by the words “To Murphy”. He thanked her and asked her to stay as his witness. Scarlett looked confused, but Murphy told her that he would explain later. He opened the envelope and the letter H and O appeared in front of his face. Scarlett asked what it was but he ignored her and put his ear to the phone instead. The man told him that the next question would be the last question and if Murphy got it right the man wouldn’t shoot himself and then Murphy would have to put all of the notes together to form the last word. Murphy nodded his head in agreement and was given the last question, a word that showed optimism. Murphy looked at the letters on the paper and at Scarlett who stared at him with concern. Finally Murphy uttered the word hope into the phone and put all of the red papers together in the order he had received them. The letters spelled out WREHO, but it wasn’t a word that Murphy was familiar with. He scrambled the papers around and said the word WHORE out loud; Murphy was startled by the laughter on the other end of the phone. The distorted voice faded and a woman asked Murphy if he had remembered her. Murphy did not recognize her voice right away, but when he realized all of the words that were used in the game, he immediately knew who she was.

Two months ago, Murphy walked into a bar after work. He noticed an attractive woman with dark hair and olive toned skin sitting all alone. He walked over to her and asked her if he could buy her a drink but she declined his offer. This shocked him because no woman has ever refused anything from him. He asked the bartender for a glass of water and slid it next to the woman, she thanked him. He asked her what her name was and she replied with the name Monica. He told her that she didn’t look like a Monica and that she resembled more of a Hope instead. She asked why that was and he replied that it was because she had been staring at the door like she had hoped the right man would come in, but he assured her that he was that man. She could not help but to smile at the corn that had been planted before her and asked if this was the sort of thing that he did all of the time. He smiled and said it depended on if the woman was as sublime as she was.

Murphy snapped out of the memory when Monica began to scream at him through the phone. She accused him of ruining her life and marriage. He apologized but Monica continued to scream and wail. She started to compose herself and with the last sniffle, she told him that she wished she had never met him on Friday February 14 at 8:02 PM. Murphy soon came to the conclusion of what the numbers on the letters meant. Murphy tried apologizing again, but the line was silent. The stillness became disturbed by an escalated scream that came from Scarlett’s lips and suddenly Murphy felt something penetrate his skin and fell to the floor. Monica came before him with a devilish grin and the gun in her hand. Everything around him began to fade except for the clock behind Monica; he would be late for work.