By Paul Cwick

"Greg! Hey, Greg!" the pleasantly plump fortysomething woman called out.

Greg stepped out of the elevator and instantly froze as his name was called out, and he instinctively shrank back. When he saw that it was only Marie, his administrative assistant, he relaxed a bit, but tried to turn his face away.

"What are you doing back?" Marie said, smiling as she approached him. "I thought you were going to stay up in—GOOD GOD, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!?" she cried. Her smile instantly vanished as soon as she got a close-up view of Greg’s scratched, bruised, battered appearance. "WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?!?"

"I, uh—" Greg said, still trying to hide his face from her view. "I was—I was, uh… involved in a minor accident. The bus I was on skidded on some ice and went off the road."

Marie drew her breath in as she examined Greg’s injuries. "Judas Priest! Did you see a doctor?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah, it’s just superficial injuries, nothing serious. It looks far worse than it is. Believe me, it’ll look a lot better once the swelling goes down and the stitches come out."

She silently regarded the bruises and sutured gashes running across Greg’s face, before making a feeble attempt at a joke. "God! Are you sure you haven’t been wrestling any grizzly bears up there?" she said, smiling weakly.

The attempt failed. She paused for a beat, then tried again. "Are you sure you’re all right?" she asked, returning to seriousness.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, perfectly fine." He started to turn away.

"Boy," Marie said. "You guys sure are accident-prone these days."

Greg froze in his tracks. Slowly he turned to face Marie

"’You guys?’" he asked. "What do you mean, ‘You guys?’"

"Oh, well I mean what happened to Keith and Mark last week, you know."

Greg stared blankly at her.

"The two security guys, you remember. Oh no, that’s right; you were out of town. You didn’t hear about that."

Greg swallowed. "Heard about what?"

"Well it was really weird…but within an hour, they both got banged up pretty bad. Keith fell down a whole flight of stairs, from the top all the way down to the bottom. He’s lucky he didn’t break his neck! As it is, he’s just got a broken arm, a busted collarbone and some cracked ribs."

Greg swallowed and his eyes widened. Marie continued:

"The weird part is, he said afterward that somebody pushed him! But there was no one else around. I guess he just tripped or something. Anyway, as for Mark, that was even more weird. I guess he had some kind of seizure or flashback or something, because he suddenly doubled over and started screaming. He must have been hallucinating or something because he was screaming that somebody was punching him. You know, beating him up. But nobody else was even near him! Finally just he passed out on the floor. He must have hit the floor pretty hard, because when they got him to the hospital, they said he had 3 broken ribs, internal injuries and that he was just covered with bruises and contusions and stuff. Sheesh, can you believe it?"

Greg shuddered and shut his eyes tight. "Um—" he said uncomfortably, trying to change the subject. "Any—Were there any messages while I was away?"

"Uh, let’s see…Oh yeah! You had about a couple dozen calls from some strange woman. She was really insistent to talk to you, but she wouldn’t say what about; she just said it was a personal matter and that it was real important. I took her name and number; do you want me to give them to you?"

Greg guessed who the ‘some strange woman’ must have been. "No." he said quietly. "Just throw them away." He turned and started to walk to his cubicle.

He sat down at his desk, setting down his briefcase. He laid his head down on his desk, and let out a big sigh.

So now I’m back, he thought. Dear God Almighty… Now what…?

At that point in time, Greg really truly would rather have been ANYWHERE else on the face of the earth than where he was. He hadn’t planned on ever returning to the town of Walnut in a million years, but things hadn’t quite worked out the way he’d planned. The plan was to stay on in Seattle permanently, but of course, Cat had interfered and ruined that plan, just as she had interfered with and ruined every other aspect of his life. Greg winced as he recalled the whole nightmarish incident…

Cat had tracked him down and cornered him in his hotel room, and proceeded to beat him up. She was invisible at the time of course, and so Greg was completely defenseless against her. She started out by beating his face to a pulp, then escalated her attack, striking blows to his abdomen and below the belt. Eventually, Greg ended up lying on the floor, curled up in a ball, trying to protect himself against further blows, while Cat proceeded to kick him.

Yet as nightmarish as it had been to be beaten up by an invisible woman, the aftermath was even worse. The noise of the attack (and his own screams) had alerted the hotel security, and when they arrived at Greg’s room to investigate, they found him reduced to a state of complete, incoherent, screaming hysteria. The hotel security then called the police.

It was all a blur to Greg, yet he could vaguely recall suddenly being surrounded by hotel security and by the Seattle police, all asking questions about who had done this to him. And Greg had a vague recollection of telling someone that a woman had beaten him up. Whether he had told it to a cop or to one of the hotel security, he couldn’t remember clearly.

But he didn’t think he had said anything about her being invisible. At least, not to any of the police. By the time they showed up, Greg had managed to regain some small degree of composure and was able to think at least somewhat clearly. And although he was still not far removed from complete hysteria, he was not so far gone as to not realize what the consequences would be if he were to tell the cops that he’d been beaten up by an invisible woman. He knew what they would think and what they would do. They would think he was crazy and they would send him to a psychiatric hospital for observation.

Moreover, there was still the matter of the watch. That damned, lousy, stinking watch, which seemed to have gotten lost during the scuffle with Cat. As he was being questioned, Greg’s eyes continually roamed the interior of the hotel room, looking for the watch, but he didn’t see it anywhere. He didn’t know what happened to it. But knowing Cat, his gut feeling was that she had somehow hidden it somewhere, to produce later on in order to blackmail him, or to plant as incriminating evidence. Greg realized that he couldn’t take any chances.

So when the paramedics arrived to take him to the hospital for his injuries and the police officers continued to question him, Greg said nothing. Or, almost nothing. He told them that he’d been beaten up by some woman. No, he didn’t know who she was. No, he didn’t know where she went. No, he couldn’t describe her. No, no, no…

It was obvious to the police officers that Greg was holding something back, but try as they might, they couldn’t get anything more out of him. It was equally clear that the officers were not at all pleased with Greg’s uncooperative attitude. Nor was the hotel manager, who told Greg in no uncertain terms that he would have to leave the hotel immediately; that if Greg was going to bring strange women up to his room for questionable purposes, he would just have to find lodgings elsewhere, that this was a respectable place.

* * *

A short time later, Greg sat patiently on the examination room table as the doctor treated his wounds. As the numerous cuts were sutured and bandaged, Greg felt a strange calm come over him. Suddenly, everything seemed very clear, and one fact in particular stood clear for the very first time:

Cat was nuts. Totally, completely, around-the-bend whacko. Perhaps she had always been and Greg had just never noticed it. Or perhaps he did, but he had refused to see it, ignoring the tell-tale signs of an impending breakdown. Or perhaps it was just the crushing weight of the events of the last several months: Cat’s discovery of invisibility and all that went along with it. Perhaps it was this that had pushed her over the edge. But whatever the reason, the bottom line was that Cat was becoming increasingly unstable, unpredictable and therefore more dangerous. She had to be stopped. Now. Because there was one thing that Greg knew for certain: he would probably not survive another attack such as the one he had just suffered.

He now realized that there was no other alternative. Cat could not be appeased, she could not be reasoned with, she would not respond to love, kindness, patience, or pleas for mercy. Nor could Greg run away from her. That left only one thing, and that was to somehow stop her once and for all. It was either that or let her kill him one day.

It was then that Greg made a vow to himself: That one way or another, he would put a stop to Cat. Somehow, he would find a way to take away her advantage of invisibility. One way or another, he would get to her secret stash of herbs and potions and get them away from her. Flush them down the toilet or burn them or whatever, but get rid of them. The beginnings of a plan to accomplish this began to form in Greg’s mind.

In the meantime, he would humor Cat. He would pretend to get along with her, pretend to get on her good side, and try not to provoke her. He would pretend to make up with her, agree to all her demands, including the demand that he return to Walnut. He would agree and go along with her on everything. But all the while, he would be planning… And as soon as he had worked out a plan and an opportunity presented itself, he would act upon that plan.

When Greg was released from the hospital and returned to the hotel, he found his suitcases and all his belongings waiting for him at the bell captain. Greg ignored the disdainful look on the bell captain’s face as he collected his luggage. Instead, he simply picked up his suitcases, turned and walked out into the driving rain. He stood there, patiently waiting for a cab to take him to the airport, where he would wait for the next available flight back to Walnut.

Greg spent the rest of the night and the following morning at the airport, waiting for a flight to take him home. He tried to lay down on some chairs and catch some sleep, but it was useless. The discomfort of the chairs and Greg’s own nervous tension coupled with the various aches, pains and sore spots all over his body made sleep impossible

By the next afternoon, Greg felt truly horrible. In addition to his injuries, he hadn’t shaved, showered or slept in over thirty hours. His head was pounding and although he was hungry, his stomach felt so queasy that he doubted he could keep anything down.

He sat slumped in a chair, almost dozing off, when he was suddenly stirred by a bright, cheerful voice from behind him.

"Hello, Greg!" the voice said.

Greg turned around to see the source of the voice. It was Cat, now visible again. She carried a suitcase and her overnight bag. She walked up to Greg and sat down next to him, greeting him with a bright, cheery smile.

"I thought I’d find you here! I timed it perfectly! See, it’s just like I always say: I know you. I know everything about you, how you think, how you feel, everything. It must be that close bond we have together!" She laughed a light, contented laugh.

Her manner absolutely stunned Greg: she had terrorized him and beaten the living daylights out of him, and yet she seemed to be as happy as a lark and as cheerful as he had ever seen her. She seemed absolutely delighted over what she had done to him. Greg simply could not believe it. She didn’t seem to feel even the tiniest trace of guilt or remorse, or, if she did, she kept it well hidden from him.

At that moment, Greg really truly felt like strangling her. But no…no, he told himself. Choose your battles, Greg; choose your battles. This isn’t the time or place. (Besides, he doubted that he had the strength.) But someday Cat, he silently promised, you’ll get yours… Greg kept his thoughts well-concealed behind his best poker-face.

"Say!" Cat said suddenly. "Lookee what I’ve got!" She reached into her purse and pulled out two plane tickets.

"See?" Cat said, smiling. "Two seats, side-by-side! So we can fly home together! Won’t that be nice?"

Greg silently leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

* * *

And so, during the entire trip back to Walnut, Greg was forced to sit next to Cat, listening to her chatter incessantly about how good it was that they were both finally going home, and about how much better things would be between them from now on, how wonderful it was that they were making a fresh start, and how lucky it was that she just happened to run into him at the airport. On and on and on.

Yet during all of this, Greg was barely listening. Already in his mind, he had begun devising a plan of action to rid Cat of her invisibility power. He knew that the only way to do this was to somehow find her stash of herbs and destroy them. To do this, he would have to somehow get inside her apartment without her knowledge, that much was for certain. But the question was how could he do this? Even if he managed to get inside of her apartment, how could he be absolutely 100% certain that she wasn’t invisible and watching his every move?

This was the main stumbling block in Greg’s plan and he still had no definite ideas yet as to how he could overcome it. Yet the answer came to him almost by accident. He picked up an airline magazine and began thumbing through it, trying to distract his attention from Cat’s incessant chatter, when his eye caught an advertisement for a company that sold high-tech electronic products. One of the items in particular caught Greg’s attention. As he read the advertisement, a tiny glimmer of hope in the back of his mind began to grow into a bright flame. Greg hastily pulled a pen from his pocket and wrote down the item number and the company’s phone number on the folder from his plane ticket. The remainder of the trip, Greg anxiously counted the hours until the plane landed, when he could get to a phone and order the item he’d seen in the ad.

The plane landed right on schedule and Greg quickly hailed a cab to take him home, leaving Cat in the lurch without a word. The moment Greg arrived back at his apartment, he didn’t even bother to unpack. Instead, he simply dropped his luggage on the floor and ran immediately to the phone. He dialed the number he’d written down and when he got an operator, he placed his order for the item.

The operator took the order, but told Greg that that particular item was temporarily out of stock. Greg felt the bottom fall out of his stomach. But the operator spoke up again and assured Greg that the item should be back in stock within a few days, a week at the most, and that they could ship it to him by overnight delivery. Greg told the operator that overnight delivery would be just fine. He completed the transaction and hung up the phone. A few days, he thought. I just have to wait for a few days…that’s all…

And now here he was, back at work, with his head laying on the desk. All I have to do is make it through this week, he reminded himself. Just this week. Once I get the ‘gadget,’ everything will be fine. Just make it through this week… Just make it through this week… He repeated it over and over to himself, as though it were a mantra.

He tried to carry on as normally as possible for his first few days back on the job. His boss, Mr. Henson, never did get a satisfactory explanation for what exactly happened up in Seattle, and in fact began to nurse some private, grave concerns over Greg’s mental/emotional stability. He tactfully suggested that maybe Greg should take some time off from work, to rest and recuperate, but Greg assured him that the best thing would be for him to get right back to a normal routine. Henson still had his doubts, but eventually gave in and agreed, although very reluctantly.

And so for the next few days, Greg tried to concentrate on charts and graphs and sales figures for the fiscal year and other such matters, but the only thing that kept going through his mind was the gadget he had ordered…

* * *

Cat, meanwhile, was feeling very pleased with herself. Ahhh, she thought. It’s finally over, the nightmare is over. And I won! she thought, triumphantly. I got him back and he’s mine! She smiled. He won’t try that again anytime soon!

She thought over the events of the past two weeks: the emotional turmoil that Greg had put her through, first running away from her, then refusing her nice gift, her attempts at reconciliation, and finally rejecting her pitiful pleas to come back to her. And lastly, she thought about how Greg had forced her to hurt him.

But…that was over now, she told herself. All over. Once again she had shown Greg who was boss. He had apparently learned his lesson and now things could get back to normal. Now that they’ve made up, they could start all over again, which was all Cat wanted in the first place.

So Cat was feeling very good. At least for a while, she did. As time went on however, she began to feel very uneasy. She didn’t quite understand why exactly, but she began to feel very bad inside, as though there were now something terribly, terribly wrong with her and her relationship with Greg, that something had been lost that could never be regained.

She didn’t know quite what, exactly. Everything seemed to be going well: after all, Greg was back home again, he seemed be more agreeable, just as he should be. He hadn’t shown any of the kind of defiance or provocative attitude that had led to all the trouble in the first place. Instead, he behaved just as Cat had always wanted him to: he spoke quietly and respectfully, his manner polite and deferential. He listened and did exactly as he was told without argument. Everything seemed to be going just right, just the way Cat wanted. And yet…she still couldn’t shake that terrible feeling…

She tried not to think about the whole ugly scene in Seattle, but she couldn’t help herself. Her thoughts continually drifted back to it. And the more she thought about it, the worse she felt about it. Her earlier good mood gradually deteriorated as she continued to dwell upon the incident.

She recalled how traumatic the experience had been for her, how she had begged and pleaded with Greg to come home with her, practically throwing herself at him. Yet he had cruelly rejected her and made her cry. Cat winced at the painful memory. Greg had deliberately hurt her that way. She couldn’t understand how he could be so cruel to her, when she had always been so kind and loving to him. But he was. And in so doing, he made her want to hurt him in return.

Maybe that was it, she thought. Maybe it was the fact that she had been forced to hurt Greg. She never thought she could ever do that. But Greg had made her. She didn’t want to, but she had no choice in the matter. Greg had forced her.

Yet she still felt bad about it, almost guilty, in fact . Every time she thought about how awful Greg looked afterward, how pathetic, with his bruised, bloodied face, she almost cried, she felt so sorry for him.

Well, it was his own fault! she argued back to herself. If he had made up with her right away and agreed to come home like she wanted him to, none of it ever would have happened! But no, he had to go and defy her again! How could he? she wondered. How could he do that to her?

Cat continued to dwell on the incident, and as she did, the uneasiness continued to grow within her. She grew increasingly restless and irritable, and slept less and less. Finally, she decided she just couldn’t take it any more.

She finally decided that Greg was ultimately responsible for the emotional turmoil she now felt. After all, he was the one who started the whole thing in the first place, by running away from her. Even though she felt terrible about the way things had turned out between them, she knew that, in the final analysis, it was really all Greg’s fault. And she decided that, since he was responsible, then he would ultimately have to pay for it. He would simply have to face the consequences for what he had done to her, for the pain he was continuing to cause her.

She knew what she had to do, but she took no pleasure in it.

Tears silently rolled down her cheeks as she poured boiling water into a white porcelain mug with a sprinkling of gray-green herbs in it…

* * *

Greg walked into the crowded restaurant and looked around. He was supposed to meet with some prospective clients there for a business lunch, but he had arrived late, due to traffic. Finally he spotted the clients sitting at a table in a far corner. They saw him at the same time and they waved him over. Greg made his way through the lunchtime crowd to the small gathering at the table He quickly introduced himself and shook hands all around and sat down.

The lunch went very well for Greg. He spoke enthusiastically about the various prospects the company had for the future, about plans for expansion and growth of revenues and increased market shares. He was just warming up, beginning to go into some of the details for the projected quarter, when his attention was distracted by something he caught out of the corner of his eye.

Normally, he might not have noticed it. But events of the past several months had honed Greg’s instincts and heightened his awareness of certain things. He had come to notice tiny clues that otherwise might have escaped his attention. In this instance, he thought he saw a chair at an empty table nearby move ever so slightly, as though it had been lightly brushed by someone walking past it. He quickly recovered his train of thought and continued with his pitching. Yet all the while, his eyes continually scanned his surroundings, looking for further signs of possible uninvited company.

After several minutes and no further distractions, Greg began to relax again. He and his companions continued their lunch in peace and quiet. They were just beginning their dessert and finishing their coffee when it happened.

Greg reached for the coffee pot that had just been brought by the waitress. The pot was filled to the brim with steaming hot coffee. Greg picked up the pot and had just begun to pour when something or someone grabbed his elbow, causing him to spill the coffee.

At the same time, the back of his neck was grabbed from behind and pushed forward, and the two motions combined caused Greg to empty the entire pot of coffee all over the table, on the clients seated opposite him and all over his own clothes. Shouts and curses sounded from all around the table, echoing loudly throughout the crowded restaurant. All heads turned to see the source of the commotion. The entire restaurant except for Greg’s table soon grew very quiet.

The clients quickly rose en masse from the table (still cursing), trying to blot up with napkins the hot liquid now soaking into their clothes. As Greg struggled to recover (not an easy task with the scalding coffee now soaking into his own clothes as well), he tried to assist them in their clean up efforts. However, as he reached with his napkin to try to help clean up the mess, his hand was grabbed again by the same unseen force, causing him to thrash madly about the table’s surface, increasing the mess, splashing the spilled coffer further and scattering the dessert dishes all over the clients’ clothes.

The confusion thus continued until finally the clients decided they’d had enough. They angrily stormed out of the restaurant, loudly proclaiming that hell would freeze over before they would ever conduct business of any kind with Greg in the future.

Greg was now left alone at his table, the object of vacant stares by the other restaurant patrons. Dead silence filled the surroundings, broken only by a waiter who quietly suggested that he might help Greg clean up. Greg thanked him, but shook his head; then he turned and slowly walked towards the men’s restroom.

In the men’s room, Greg looked at himself in the mirror. He was a mess. Now his clothes matched his face: they were a disaster area. The coffee and food had so thoroughly saturated his suit and shirt that Greg doubted if even dry-cleaning could get the stains out. He examined his scalded skin underneath his clothes. His skin was reddened and tender, but otherwise appeared to be undamaged.

Oh Dear Lord, thought Greg, as a thought struck him. The clients! Oh my god, oh my god, Greg silently repeated to himself. He dreaded the fallout that would no doubt result from word of this getting around back to Henson.

Greg continued to try to dab away at his soiled clothes with paper towels, but it was useless. Finally, he just gave up in disgust. He turned and walked out. The entire restaurant regarded him in icy silence. Greg tried to ignore them, and walked straight to the cashier, holding his head high and trying to maintain as much dignity as he could. He paid the check and walked out.

He had just walked through the door and was about to take a step toward his car when his collar was grabbed suddenly and roughly from behind, yanking him backwards.

"Hello, Greg." Cat’s quiet voice said in his ear. "Let’s have a little talk."

Greg swallowed hard. Oh my God, he thought; it’s her! She’s here! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it… Greg’s heart was pounding and although he was overcome by both shock and outrage, he struggled to keep his voice even and free of emotion. He knew that, no matter what, he must not risk provoking Cat any further. At least not until he had the gadget.

"Cathy—" he half-choked, half-whispered. "Why—why are you here? What do you want?"

"Not here, dammit!" her angry voice hissed in his ear. "Haven’t you learned by now? Over there!" She yanked Greg’s collar, dragging him into the direction of the back of the restaurant, near the trash dumpster. Realizing that the safest course of action at this time would be to offer no resistance (at least not yet) Greg went along.

When he had reached the back of the restaurant, Greg was shoved roughly from behind, propelling him off-balance toward the hard concrete wall of the restaurant. He managed to catch his balance just in time to avoid smashing his already injured nose against the wall. He then turned to face his unseen tormentor. His heart was still racing, and he was afraid; yet he still tried to maintain his best ‘poker face.’

"All right," he said finally, trying to maintain a low tone of voice and not betray the fury he felt inside. "What was that all about in there? What are you mad about now?"

"I wanted to talk to you. Alone. And I didn’t feel like waiting. So I got rid of your little playmates."

Waves of outrage washed over Greg. Still, he struggled to control his tone of voice.

"All right," he said quietly. "You’re talking to me now. What do you want?"

A long pause followed before Cat answered. "I just want you to know," she said quietly, her voice seeming to come from mere inches in front of Greg’s face. "I—I’ve been thinking about what happened between us in Seattle. And I feel really bad about it; I really do..." She paused again.

Greg blinked. What?!? he thought. Is she for real? Is she trying to say she’s sorry? If she is, she sure has a funny way of showing it!

"And—And I also want you to know," Cat went on. "I—I really don’t think I can forgive you for what you did to me. I really don’t…" She now sounded as though she were half-laughing, half-crying.

Greg couldn’t believe his ears. Despite his intention not to provoke Cat, he couldn’t help but blurt out: "What I’VE done to YOU? Are you kidding me? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You made me do the one thing I never ever thought I could do, Greg: You made me hurt you. You’re the only man I ever really loved, and I never wanted to hurt you, not really. I begged you not to make me, but you wouldn’t listen. You forced me to do it…" Cat’s voice now grew very shrill. "And now I feel guilty. Really, I feel just terrible about it, about what you made me do to you... And I just can’t live with this terrible feeling… It’s destroying me…"

"Cathy, please! I—" He started to

"No, no, please," Cat went on. "It’s too late for that. Too late for your apologies…much too late. It’s your fault, Greg; it’s all your fault, right from the very beginning. I know that now. And you know it, too. You’re responsible. You’re responsible for my bad feelings now. So you’re the one who’s going to have to take the consequences..."

Greg blinked. Now what the hell is she saying? he wondered. Good God almighty, she makes less and less sense as time goes on, he thought.

"You’re very lucky though," Cat said.

"You’re lucky those police didn’t find that watch. When they were busy asking you questions and their attention was distracted, I was able to slip it out the door. Right under their noses, practically. And I dumped it down the laundry chute."

I knew it, Greg thought.

Cat paused for a moment, then spoke again. "It’s a good thing I was there to look after you and take care of that for you; if I hadn’t, you’d be in serious trouble by now." She paused. "Maybe I should have let them find it. Maybe I should have let you get into trouble. Maybe then you’d understand about facing consequences."

She paused again. Greg swallowed.

"But no," she went on. "I’m not going to involve anyone else in this. This is just between you and me."

Another long silence followed. Greg stared at the air immediately in front of him, trying to imagine the expression on Cat’s face, trying to guess at her emotional state, and what she was liable to do next. But he was helpless; the tone of her voice was so erratic that it left him no clues.

"I’m sorry, Greg; I really am truly sorry." She finally said. "But I--I just can’t live with myself, after what I did to you. Things have to be made right between us. And the only way to do that is for you to take the consequences for your actions."

She paused for only a moment as her voice seemed to break with emotion, then went on. "At one time I may have been willing to forgive and forget. But not any more. I—I just can’t go on letting you treat me this way, as though I were just a nothing!" She paused for just a moment, making another tiny sob, then continued. "You’ve just—you’ve made me so miserable. Now I’m going to make you miserable, so that you’ll see what it feels like."

Greg stood frozen, his back pressed against the concrete wall. What was she going to do? he wondered. He waited…and waited…but nothing happened.

Finally, as if making up her mind about something, Cat said, "No…no, it’s not going to happen here and now, Greg. No. And what happened in there? That was nothing. But sooner or later, Greg, you will have to face the music. You can count on it. Do you know what I mean?"

Greg remained silent.

Suddenly a pair of unseen hands gripped Greg’s shirt collar, and gripped it tightly, threatening to choke him.

"I said, ‘Do you know what I mean?’" Cat repeated.

Greg reached up to try to grab at the unseen hands, but just as he did so, they released their grip and slipped away. Greg grabbed at nothing but the air.

Suddenly, his cheek received a light kiss, and Cat’s soft voice whispered in his ear, "Sweet dreams, lover. I’ll be watching you!" The kiss was followed immediately by a hard slap across Greg’s still-very sore face. Greg was momentarily stunned by the waves of flaring pain coming from his rapidly swelling face. A chill went down his spine as he heard the sound of Cat’s self-satisfied laughter receding into the distance.

Greg continued to lean against the concrete wall for an untold length of time, trembling with repressed rage, before he finally mustered the courage to move. Finally he pulled himself away from the wall and walked to a pay phone on very shaky legs.

Greg called Mr. Henson and told him what had happened at the restaurant. He tried to minimize it as much as possible, but he knew that, sooner or later, Henson would get the whole story, so Greg figured he might as well go into CYA mode early on and give his side of the story first. Greg described the soiled conditions of his clothes and asked if he could take the rest of the day off. Henson sighed and wearily said that would be all right.

So Greg drove home. He climbed the stairs of his apartment building and had just turned the corner approaching his apartment, when he noticed a large purple and white package laying at the foot of his front door. He stopped short. Could this be…? he wondered. He hurried over to the package in excitement, bent over and picked it up, looking at the return address. Yes! Yes, this was it! he thought in delight.

Greg quickly opened the door and brought the package inside. His hands trembled with excitement as he ripped open the white and purple pak, revealing a cardboard box inside. Greg opened up the box , and looked down at his new purchase with a broad smile on his face. He pulled out a small booklet which accompanied the item, and read aloud from it, glancing down occasionally at the item as he did so:

"The CGP-2963 IR night vision goggles are precision-manufactured to meet military specifications and provide optimal vision capabilities at night and other low-level light conditions… This system’s advanced circuitry enables normal viewing during changing light conditions… See where nothing could be seen before…"

The last line fairly jumped off the page at him. He lowered the booklet and looked down at the goggles again.

"See where nothing could be seen before…" he repeated, with a growing smile on his face.

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