The Three-in-One, pt. 3

As he spoke, I took the time to look at him.

His skin was nearly flawless, with no hair on his head, brows, and eyelids. He wore a black dress suit, black dress shoes, a white button-down shirt, and a narrow black tie.

While talking, he continued to look at a device on his left wrist, tucked under his jacket sleeve, and which seemed to be communicating with him. I wanted to ask if I might look at it, but it did not seem to be the appropriate time at the moment.

He told me that his next assignment, in what he called “your year of 1990,” found him in a jail cell waiting to meet a man that he was to befriend and help guide from a life of violence. This man’s name was John, and he was in jail for being drunk and disorderly in San Francisco.

“I soon learned that his anger and pain had to do with a female he had met, fell in love with, and lost all in a years time,” he said.

“What did you do?” I heard myself ask.

“I broke a founding rule,” he said. “I took him back to the point where he had decided to leave this woman named Johanna behind, and I did it without permission.”

“It has had profound consequences for all three of us,” he added.

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