Step One

Isabel was very, very angry. She clutched her big, blue bear protectively, as if it were a shield between her and the hurtful words that Paul had spoken. It had been such a nice day at the fair, scoffing candy floss and hot dogs, like over-excited children. He’d taken her hand, as they’d watched the brightly coloured stalls and rides melt into the sky, from the lofty heights of the big wheel. Then, he had declared that he wouldn’t rest until he’d won the blue bear for her at the shooting gallery. It had taken many tries for him to accomplish his mission… So many, in fact, that she suspected he’d spent far more money on tokens than the bear would have cost in a shop. However, the expression of exalted triumph on his face, when he’d presented her with the garish and ungainly toy, had been so beautiful as to stop her breath, for just a moment.

Now, he was sitting opposite her at a table in their favourite bar, his eyes downcast and his arms folded defensively.

“I think I feel smothered,” he’d just told her.

Isabel’s own thoughts whirled in utter disarray, for several seconds, before she composed herself a little, and replied: “Wh- what?”

Paul sighed deeply. “Today was very... ‘couple-y’, and I just don’t know how comfortable I am with it. I’m looking at you now, holding that stupid bear, and I feel kinda… weird.”

Isabel’s jaw dropped further towards the floor. “But, it was your idea to go to the fair,” she protested, “Your idea to win the bear. I didn’t even want the thing…”

“Oh, but you did,” he assured her firmly, “It was written all over your face. I could see it in your eyes.”

She gasped incredulously. “I don’t know what you think you saw in my eyes, but it was no desire for this…” She clicked her tongue, exasperatedly, and flung the item in question on the floor. It looked utterly ridiculous, looming there between them, like a mocking spectator. Isabel took hold of its soft fur, and tried to push it under the table, as though making it disappear would somehow erase the memory of the last few moments.

The bear did not go quietly, however. Its enormous head popped straight back out, leering at her tauntingly. She felt a furious flush rise to her cheeks. She grabbed its ear and shoved, desperate for its eyes to be off her. At that moment, she suddenly became aware that the cruel, plastic gaze of the toy was not the only one fixed in her direction.

A short, thin man was sitting at the next table, studying Isabel intently, and scribbling furiously in a small, black notebook, as he did so. He was a bit older, wearing leather trousers and a black hat, and nursing a small glass of scotch. His weather-beaten face was somewhat attractive, apart from his infuriatingly inquisitive expression, as he stared at her shamelessly, and made his notes.

“Can I help you?” snapped Isabel, with a withering glare.

The stranger smirked slightly, and shrugged. “Nah,” he drawled, “I’m just watching… and listening.” He paused thoughtfully, before adding: “I might be able to help you, though.”

Isabel bristled. “I highly doubt it. Do you have nothing better to do than to listen to other people’s conversations?”

By now, Paul had noticed the exchange, and had jolted himself from his own troubled contemplation, to take a good look at the eavesdropper. He grew deeply irritated. “What’s your problem?” he growled, “This is none of your business.”

The stranger’s slight smile broadened. “Oh, I don’t have a problem… But it sure looks like you do.”

Paul was incensed. He clenched his fists, and his jaw tightened angrily. “Get out of here,” he snarled, “Before I…”

“Before you…what?” The stranger chuckled. “Before you dig the hole you’ve just created between you and your girlfriend any deeper? I could provide some assistance, you know. I’ve been around the block a few times, and your issues are nothing new.”

Isabel felt her initial annoyance begin to dissipate, as she watched Paul’s face turn purple with rage. This stranger was impertinent, certainly, but it sounded like he might be on her side. Besides, anyone who could cause Paul such discomfort, right now, seemed a welcome addition to the proceedings.

She turned to the man in the hat. “I’d like to hear what you have to say,” she announced, smugly.

“Isabel, you can’t be serious,” exploded Paul, “This guy is just some nosy creep.”

The more annoyed Paul became, the more determined Isabel was to engage the stranger. “What’s your name?” she asked.

He put down his notebook, and tipped his hat politely. “You can call me Johnny.”

Isabel smiled, what she hoped, was her most brilliant and inviting smile. “I’m Isabel, and this is Paul. Would you like to join us, Johnny?”

He nodded, and began to stand up.

Paul leaned across the table, and grabbed her by the wrist. “What are you doing? This is crazy!”

Johnny cleared his throat and nodded towards the floor. There was an unexceptional, leather briefcase propped up against the leg of the stool he’d been occupying. “Tell you what,” he said, “Give me five minutes of your time. If I’ve solved your problem by then, buy me a drink. If I haven’t, then you can keep the briefcase.”

Paul gaped at him. “Why on earth would I want that?”

Johnny pursed his lips, nonchalantly. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because it contains twenty thousand dollars?”

“Twenty th…?” Paul’s bewildered voice trailed off. “You’re insane!”

Johnny picked up the briefcase, and opened it. Inside were rows of crisp, hundred dollar bills. “Count it, if you like,” he offered.

“It must be fake,” replied Paul derisively, “Who walks around with money like that? What sort of person gives it away? This is…”

“Insane?” suggested Johnny, “Maybe… But it’ll only take five minutes to find out.”

Paul spluttered, at a loss for words.

In a swift, smooth movement, Johnny nudged the blue bear away from the table, and pulled over his stool to join the couple. “Good,” he said, “It seems I have your attention. Now, I only have a few minutes. Let’s begin.”

Wordlessly, Paul slumped back into his seat. He looked dazed, as though he couldn’t quite decide if this was really happening.

“So,” said Johnny, “You’ve been hanging out with this girl… Isabel, right? You like her?”

Paul nodded mutely.

Johnny continued: “But suddenly, you’re beginning to worry that it’s getting too serious, and you don’t know if you’re ready for the commitment?”

Again, Paul nodded, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Is there someone else?” asked Johnny, bluntly.

“Good question,” interjected Isabel.

“N- n- no,” cried Paul, finally rediscovering his voice, “It’s nothing like that!”

“Well, what is it, then?” retorted Johnny, “You hoping someone better comes along? Wanna keep your options open? Not ready to give up on playing the field?”

Paul stuttered again, before answering: “I don’t know…”

Johnny stroked his stubbled chin, knowingly. “So, you do well with the ladies?”

“I doubt it,” snorted Isabel, “I met him through my younger brother’s board gaming group!”

“Ah.” Johnny’s tone was exaggeratedly sympathetic. “So, you probably spent years trying to get a girl, and now that you have one, you’ve realised that, if you could seduce her, maybe it’s not as hard as you thought, and you might wanna see what else is out there?”

Isabel groaned in disgust.

Paul opened and closed his mouth, pleadingly. He began to perspire. “Isabel, I never said that! I never…” He turned back to Johnny. “What do you think you’re doing? How exactly is this helping?”

Johnny shrugged. “I guess I failed. The money’s yours.” He stood up, and stretched. “Now, it’s my last night in town, so I’m gonna go for a nice dinner, and find some good music. Would either of you care to join me?”

Isabel leaped to her feet, her eyes flashing. “Sounds like the best offer I’ve had all day,” she stated, with a pointed look in Paul’s direction, “You can keep that bear, too. Hopefully, it won’t be so ‘weird’ for you, without me attached to it.”

With a last, lazy wink at Paul, Johnny tipped his hat again, offered Isabel his arm, and escorted her out of the bar.

Paul blinked in disbelief. It had to be a dream. He would wake at any moment, now. He was sure of it. He glanced down at the big, blue bear, and the leather briefcase, shaking his head and muttering, as though some enchantment had addled his brain, and muddled his thoughts. He pulled the latter item towards him, absently.

It was then that he noticed the small, black notebook, discarded on the next table. He reached for it, and began to flip through to the last page that Johnny had written on, desperate for some clue as to what had been going through the stranger’s mind when he’d decided to proceed with his catastrophic intervention.

The following words had been scrawled, in a messy hand, on the crisp, white paper:

‘Step One: Divide and conquer. Make him uncomfortable. Make her angrier. Tap into her worst fears, and leave him unsure of his own thoughts.

Step Two: Get rid of the briefcase.’

Paul threw the notebook away from him, and covered his face with his hands, horrified at himself, and the whole situation. How had he allowed this to happen? How had he been so easily manipulated? How had…?

It was then that the police arrived. Paul did not even notice their presence, until a stern voice interrupted his dismal musings: “Sir, we’re carrying out a search of the area. We’ve had a tip-off that there’s a criminal on the premises, carrying stolen money. Do you mind if we take a look in your briefcase?”

Paul started, and stared at the cop in disbelief. “It’s not mine,” he exclaimed.

“Then, I’m sure we won’t find your prints on it.”

“No, you won’t,” agreed Paul. Then, he gasped in realisation. “I mean… you will, but only because I touched it for a moment.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really, I swear! A stranger left it here. He was wearing a hat, and he left with my girlfriend…”

“Yeah, right,” smiled the officer, sarcastically, “I’m sure that’s how it happened. Stand up and face the wall.”

Paul began to tremble. “You have to believe me,” he cried, “There was a notebook… It’s around here somewhere… It explains everything…”

The cop pursed his lips, and reached for his weapon, menacingly. “I won’t ask you again, Sir.”

Reality seemed to blur for a moment, as Paul listened to the cop. It had been such a nice day at the fair. As he was hauled out of the bar in handcuffs, he kicked the big, blue bear. “This is all your fault,” he muttered.

The bear merely smiled at a small, black notebook, nestled in a particularly dusty corner.