Ramon – Part 1

12:35 a.m., Wednesday, February 5, 2020

Charles Ramon Peterson, who preferred to be called by his second name, ‘Ramon’, as homage to his Latino roots on his mother’s side, pulled down the stiff bill of the Marty’s Pizza House cap he wore to cover his face. He sunk low in his chair, trying to hide behind the cushy armrest, as the quintessential girl-next-door, the beautiful angel, Erind Hartwell, passed by the condominium’s front desk after buying a bottled drink from one of the vending machines at the right nook of the lobby. She was going to the elevators at the left wing of the U-shaped building to go back to her room.

Referring to Erind as a ‘beautiful angel’ might be too much if you asked other people. He had shown his friends a picture of her that he dug up from the internet, and their verdict was that she was cute in a nerdy way but was also on the plainer side.

And all of them can suck it because Erind is an angel to him!

He peeked from the side of the brim of his cap, hoping she wouldn’t look in his direction by the sofa chairs of the lobby. He might not be able to stop himself from waving at her…and then what?

She’d think he was a creep. That’s what.

Did she notice him now? He saw her several minutes ago entering the building in a hurry, wearing a hoodie and jeans, and he was sure she didn’t glance his way that time as she jogged to the elevators. Then, when she went back down after changing clothes, he considered approaching her. He came to the conclusion that it was a stupid idea and stopped himself before he did anything embarrassing. It would probably be awkward given the situation, and could get even more awkward if the dude who ordered the pizza arrived to get his food and saw him hitting on a girl when he should be doing his job.

He did have an order to deliver at this late hour; it was only a coincidence that he saw Erind. A God-sent coincidence; he’d take any opportunity to see her, even from afar.

Honest to God, he wasn’t stalking her.

But…what if she thought he was stalking her? Waiting for her in the lobby... Maybe she even assumed he was following her outside.

Shit, man, he didn’t give off desperate stalker vibes when he talked to her earlier, did he? Hope not, he thought as he stared at her.

Erind stood by the elevators, waiting for one to come down. She didn’t have her glasses on. He guessed that she only needed them for reading. Without her glasses, she had a different air about her. She wore an oversized dark blue blouse that fell off her right shoulder and very short shorts that had an athletic design. His older sister told him the right term for those shorts before. Was it ‘Dolfins’? Dolphin shorts or something that sounded dumb.

He admired her as she looked up at the descending numbers of the elevator. In his humble opinion—the only opinion that mattered when it came to Erind, and everyone else who thought otherwise could eat shit—Erind would look great in anything. She could wear a garbage bag, or a potato sack, or even nothi—

Bro! Chill out, he chided himself, mentally kicking his ass to clear his mind.

That was exactly the kind of immature thinking he should avoid if he was going to try asking her out. The picture of her from the internet was taken during a speech she gave in a contest in her college probably a couple years ago, so he was sure she was older than him. And from a survey of his sisters, his female cousins, and also friends, about nine out of ten times, the answer he got was that they preferred guys older than them.

Now, he didn’t know the preference of Erind, but if he couldn’t be actually older than her, at least he should attempt to be mentally and emotionally mature; his older sister told him that was what girls were mainly looking for when they say they want an older guy.

Reliability, commitment, those kinds of things. Shit he should work on.

But maybe…he could be immature for one last time?

Ramon raised his phone to try and take another photo of Erind. The elevator dinged open and she got on, turning around as she entered, then pressing the button for her floor.

He hastily put away his phone and faced to his side, closely examine the palm tree beside him with great concentration, waiting for the sound of the elevator going up to echo in the empty lobby.

I nearly got a heart attack there.

Did she see him?

He wasn’t sure since he was intently trying to get a good shot of her. “What a dumbass move,” he muttered. “Really, really dumb.” He dragged his palm across his face. It was fine if she saw him, it was another matter if she also noticed he was trying to take her picture. He would know the next time she ordered pizza based on how she’d react to him.

Or maybe she did notice and she wouldn’t order from Marty’s Pizza House ever again.

Oh, man…

And the picture he took wasn’t even good. It was a blurry mess because he wasn’t able to keep his phone still.

He swiped to the other picture he took of Erind. She was in front of the vending machines, deciding what to buy. He congratulated himself on getting a good side profile of her. Did she wear those clothes to sleep? She looked really cute in them. She also binges on pizza, and maybe she plays video games too. He decided to ask her that next time…if there was a next time.

Should he just delete that other photo? It was pretty unrecognizable. His finger hovered hesitantly over the delete button, then decided to keep it because it might be the last he’d see of her after the stupid move he just pulled.

“Stupid, stupid,” he said with a groan, hitting his forehead with his knuckles. He resolved that on his next day off he’d hang around this lobby to try and wait for her if she’d show up and then he’d profusely apologize. Maybe bring some flowers. What was that drink she bought? Was that her favorite? He could check and also buy her a bottle… share a drink with her or something romantic?

Or maybe I should just put ‘stalker’ on my nameplate?

He shook his head. “Shit, man. What do I do here?”

“Ramon, my boy!” someone called to him. Boady, one of the guards assigned for the graveyard shift, approached him, probably just finished patrolling the right wing of the building. He seemed to be in his early forties, fit and beefy, actually looking like he could guard something compared to dumpy old man Johnson who stayed at a small desk by the entrance watching his Mexican soap operas. “Got another delivery?” Boady said. “It’s very late to be eating pizza.”

“Yes, sir. Our pizza’s so good you’ll want to eat them any hour of the day.”

“You should make that your motto,” he said with a raspy laugh. He mentioned he used to smoke a pack per day. “Working hard, I see.”

“Scholarship can’t pay for everything,” was Ramon’s reply. Boady already knew about his situation because they chatted plenty of times in previous deliveries so he didn’t elaborate further.

“Who’s the delivery for?” Boady counted the stacks for pizza boxes. “Four boxes? That’s not for Ms. Hartwell then.”

“Yeah, she only ever orders one box,” he said. “These are for…” he paused to check the receipt, “Mr. Daniels.”

“I see. Too bad you won’t get to meet her.”

“She ordered from us earlier,” he said with a grin, “so I did see her.” He glanced at the elevators to make sure Erind didn’t go back down again. “Also, just now, she bought something from the vending machine so I saw her again. But I didn’t talk to her.” He didn’t mention he was trying to take her picture.

“Why not? You have to take every opportunity you got, my boy. Life’s too short to hesitate.”

“Life’s too short…” he repeated wistfully. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just that do I even have a shot?”

“You’ll never get a shot if you don’t ask, my boy. A shot doesn’t just fall from the sky right on your lap.”

“Wise words, Mr. Boady,” he said, “but I’m talking about like…uh…she can afford a place like this. And I’ve seen her wearing an Eloyce University jacket before. I’m not sure if she goes there or someone gave it to her.”

“Come on, my boy, I already told you no need to call me 'Mr. Boady',” the guard said. "We're all friends here. Anyway, she does go to Eloyce." He noticed Ramon’s disheartened face. “But that doesn’t mean you got no shot. If you show her you’re a hardworking and committed person, I’m sure she’ll give you a chance despite…you and her…how do I say this…?”

“Different social standing? Economic too.” Ramon sighed. “Different social and economic standing.”

“Let’s go with that. My point still stands.”

“You’re right Mr. Boady...err, Boady. If I don’t even try, I wouldn’t know. If she rejects me, then at least I tried. But I’m also not sure if she already has a boyfriend. I don’t want to be that kind of guy, you know?”

“I don’t think she does. Haven’t seen her with a guy. We did promise you we’ll tell you if we think she has one. Here’s Johnson, we can ask him.”

In a rare occurrence worth recording in the history books, old man Johnson stopped watching his small TV, got up from his eternally squashed chair, and waddled over to them. “Good evening, fine gents. What are you discussing? Ask me about what?”

“My boy Ramon here was wondering if Ms. Hartwell has a boyfriend. I told him we haven’t seen anyone who could be…our target.”

“Hoho, we’ll take care of anyone who could be your rival,” Johnson chuckled, holding his belly. “We swore a pizza oath that fateful day.” Ramon did give them pizza before, bought out of his own pocket, so he’d gain their friendship and they’d chat with him about Erind. Johnson patted his back. “Kidding, hohoho, but it’s true we haven’t seen Ms. Hartwell with a guy.”

“I saw her enter the building about ten minutes ago though,” Ramon said. “At this late hour…could she have visited someone. A guy?”

“Nah, she told me she was out jogging.”

Boady folded his arms and scratched his neatly trimmed beard. “But she was away for a couple of weeks though. She only returned today.” He checked his watch. “Or yesterday rather.”

“She was?” Ramon’s brows furrowed. “That explains the lack of orders then. Do you know where she went?”

“Don’t worry about that, my boy,” Boady said. “She stayed over at a friend’s house, a female friend. I think Johnson saw her?”

“She’s a looker! An absolute stunner,” Johnson said eagerly, his frizzled mustache quaking. “The friend, not Ms. Hartwell. No offense to Ms. Hartwell,” he clarified with a knowing wink at him. “That gorgeous woman was helping Ms. Hartwell carry her bags up to her room. Prolly they got a project or somethin’ so she had to stay at her friend's house?”

“Probably,” Ramon replied, still unconvinced.

Johnson picked the chair beside his and lowered himself on it with great effort. “Unghh…There we go. Nice and easy.” He adjusted his uniform that went taut in his mid-section. “There’s nothing to worry, yeah? Ms. Hartwell’s, she’s a loner through and through. She’s the only one in her room, no roommates, no family, no nothing. I haven’t seen her bring a guy up.” He turned to Boady. “Have you?”

“Nope, didn’t notice anyone.”

Ramon nodded slowly. “That’s good news then—”

“You shoulda’ seen Ms. Erind’s friend,” Johnson said. He gestured in the air, making curves. “A rockin’ body. A very shapely blond. She could be a model for those expensive brands with her looks.”

“Don’t be weird, Johnson,” Boady said sternly.

“Hoho, that’s because you haven’t seen her. I’m just telling our Ramon that maybe his plan should be to make friends with Ms. Hartwell so he’ll get introduced to her gorgeous blond friend.”

“I’m team Erind forever, Johnson,” he replied, “my heart is for one and only.”

“My boy Ramon here not chasing looks,” Boady said.

“Yeah, I’ll defend team Erind till my last breath.”

“Atta boy!” Boady roared, enthusiastically slapping his back. All of them laughed. As their chuckling chorus died down, he said, “Who’s that delivery for again? You’ve been waiting for some time already.”

“It’s for a certain Mr. Daniels. Stefan Daniels.”

Boady turned to his partner. “Do you know him?”

Johnson grunted as he shifted in his seat. “We prolly got a couple of Mr. Daniels here. Not sure which one is named Stefan. Ramon, have you called him?”

“Yes, I’ve called him a couple of times, but he’s not answering. I’ll try calling again.”

“You do that,” Johnson said. He grabbed the armrests of the sofa with his huge hands and pushed himself up with great effort. The chair creaked in protest. “I’ll check with Christa if we can get the room number of this guy then we’ll call him.” He then ambled to the front desk accompanied by Boady.

Ramon tried to call their customer again while following the two guards.

“Where’s Christa?” Johnson said as they came upon an empty counter.

“In the comfort room perhaps?” replied Boady. “She said she was feeling unwell. She mentioned something about the smell making her nauseous.”

“We did get a few complaints about that. Fuckin’ dead rat in the vents s’what I’m sayin’. Those temps the manpower agency sent aren’t doing their jobs properly.”

“I did smell it a few times while patrolling, but couldn’t find where it was coming from. How odd that it was in various places in the building.”

“Christa should be on top of coursing those complaints to the management. I wonder why they suddenly changed the people they send here.” Johnson went to the other side and checked the computer terminal. “I’ll look for that Daniels guy.”

“Hey, Christa will be angry with you if you do that.” Boady leaned on the counter but didn’t actually do anything to stop his partner.

“I can’t contact him,” Ramon said, looking at his phone. “The signal is very weak…now it’s gone.” He shook his phone and checked the screen again. “That’s weird. I could contact him before but he just wasn't answering.”

Boady took out his phone. “Really? Oh, you’re right, my boy. I don’t have a signal as well.”

“Those m’fuckers shutting down the signal again?” Johnson said while tapping away at the keyboard. “Another Adumbrae incident? The BID gets a big cut of the pie that’s the national budget. They should do a better job with the hard-earned taxes.”

“You’re right on that, Johnson.”

“Maybe it’s just reception,” Ramon said. “I’ll go outside…huh?” He squinted his eyes at the entrance glass doors. It seemed like something was blocking it. “What’s—”

“Everything getting broken nowadays.” Johnson said, shaking his head. After a final tap on the keyboard, he stood straight and pulled up his built. “Stefan Daniels, Unit 1401. I’ll just call him—”

"Boady, Johnson, I'm not sure but..."

“What…what are you doing…there.”

The three of them turned to the sound of the croaking voice. A woman wearing the uniform of the condominium property management shuffled towards them. She was trailing dark liquid on the floor. The front part of the blue vest she donned was wet with the same substance.

“Ma’am Christa?” Ramon said, barely recognizing the nice lady who gave him the old books of her children who already graduated college. “Are you alright?” he needlessly asked, as there was something seriously wrong with how she looked.

She had a complexion that was inhumanly ashen except for the prominent red veins that crossed her face like a mask made out of spider webs. Her eyes were pure black and she was crying black tears. “Johnson…don’t touch the computer…” she said with great effort. She stopped walking and vomited black goo that looked like tar. All three of them reflexively recoiled.

“Jesus Christ! Christa, what the hell happened to you?” Johnson tried to rush over but Boady headed him off. “What? She needs help.”

Boady pulled him back then drew his gun. “Can’t you see? We might be the ones who’ll need help.”

“Johnson…Boady….,” Christa said. “It hurts…something inside me.”

“She could be an Adumbrae!”

“Adumbrae? Goddamit!” Johnson also whipped out his weapon and aimed. “Stay back, Christa.”

“What do I do?” Ramon said. He instinctively dialed the emergency hotline for Adumbrae reports, then smacked himself in the head, remembering there was no signal. He glanced over at the entrance of the building. He really couldn’t see the street outside! It was completely blocked by something he couldn’t tell.

“Stay back, Ramon!” Boady also started retreating while keeping his gun trained on Christa’s head. “Christa! If you’re still inside there somewhere, please go away. Don’t make us do thi—”

She opened her mouth wide…

…an arm covered in black slime came out.

Boady and Johnson opened fire.