By Paul Cwick

Nick and Norma Stiles sat together at the little table outside the espresso bar in the shopping mall. It was a favorite meeting spot for the two of them, as it was close to where they both worked, providing a convenient place where they could get together and talk during their respective lunch breaks. They also enjoyed sharing a café mocha or cappuccino there on a Saturday afternoon as well. It was on such an afternoon that Norma suddenly asked her husband a question that, to him, seemed to come from out of the clear blue sky:

"Speaking of which, have you seen Greg lately?" she asked.

"Greg?" Nick set down his mocha on the little table as he thought a moment. "Oh yeah. I saw him a few weeks ago at the Triathlon Club."

"How did he look to you, do you remember?"

"He was all right. ‘Course, I only saw him for a minute or two as I was leaving. Why?"

Norma was silent for a moment or two. "’Cause I just saw him out in the mall a little while ago, and he looked like hell."

"Maybe he wasn’t feeling well."

"Could be. I don’t know. I think there’s more too it than that. I think there’s something really wrong with him. I mean, he was really a wreck."

"In what way?"

"Well, for one thing, he looked like he’d aged about ten years since I last saw him; I almost didn’t recognize him at first. And when I said ‘hello’ to him, he jumped like he’d been given an electric shock. He was like a total nervous wreck; his eyes kept glancing around like he was totally paranoid. And he was real pale and drawn. His eyes were all bloodshot and his hands were shaking a mile a minute. I tried talking to him, you know, to engage him in conversation, but he acted like he was afraid to talk to me. It was weird."

Nick silently absorbed this. Then, at last, he spoke. "Maybe he was on something."

"Who, Greg?" Norma laughed. "Greg Novak of all people? The guy who doesn’t even like to take aspirin?"

"Well, what do you think it is?"

"Well, I—" Norma began, then dropped her voice down low, barely above a whisper. "To tell you the truth, I think he’s having like a nervous breakdown or something."

Nick laughed. "No, no, I’m serious—" Norma continued.

"Who, Greg? Mr. Calm-Cool-And-Collected? Come on," Nick said.

"No, wait, hear me out. I heard a couple of things about him recently—"

"Like what?"

"—things that I didn’t really believe at first or give much thought to, but now I’m beginning to wonder."

Nick set down his cup, giving his wife his full attention. "Well?"

"Well, for example," she began, hesitantly, "I heard that he had some kind of weird psychotic episode or something at the Good Morning coffee shop a couple of months ago."

"Who told you that?"

"Jane Dunphy."

Nick laughed again. "Jane Dunphy! She’s so full of—"

"That’s what I thought, too, at first. But she said she was having breakfast there early one Saturday morning and she saw some guy who looked very much like Greg come into the place and just totally freak out, talking to himself and ripping his clothes apart."

Nick silently absorbed this. "Go on." he said, after a pause.

"I didn’t believe her at first either. I thought she must’ve mistaken somebody else for Greg. She said she was on the other side of the room, after all. But then the other day I heard something about Greg being involved in some kind of trouble at Jeremiah’s, over in Laconia a few weeks ago."

"Jeremiah’s? Oh yeah, I think I heard something about that too. I don’t remember any details about it, though. Was Greg there?"

"That’s what I’d heard. I didn’t hear any details either, I just heard that it was like a riot or something—"

"A RIOT?!?"

"—And that Greg was questioned by the police about it."

"GREG was questioned by the POLICE?!?"

Norma nodded. Nick whistled.

Norma continued. "Now when did you say you saw him last at the Triathlon Club? A couple of weeks ago, right?"

"Something like that."

Norma paused a moment, then motioned for Nick to lean closer. "Well, I heard he got kicked out of there last week and his membership got revoked! Something about ‘inappropriate conduct’" she whispered.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Lisa Meyers, and she works there during the day shift."

Nick sat in silence for several minutes. Finally, he spoke: "Jeez... I don’t know what to say. I mean… No, but none of this proves he’s having a breakdown. He may be having problems, but that doesn’t mean he’s cracking up."

"I don’t know, Nick... There’s got to be more to it than that. In any case, I’m really worried about him. Especially the way he looked just now. He looked like he’s falling apart."

Nick paused before he spoke. "All right. So what do you think we should do about it?"

Norma regarded her husband with a look on her face that suggested that the answer was so obvious, she couldn’t understand why it hadn’t occurred to him. "Well, we TALK to him about it, of course! We--Now don’t give me that look!"

"Norma, you don’t just go up to the guy and say, ‘Excuse me Greg, are you having a nervous breakdown? Is it true you talk to yourself and tear your clothes apart? Been in any riots lately? Sheesh!"

Norma sighed. "There ARE more tactful ways to approach him about it, you know!"

"Besides, you just said he looked like he didn’t want to talk to you. Maybe we should just respect his privacy. If he wanted to talk about it, he probably would."

The two sat in silence for several more minutes, as each moodily sipped at their drink. Finally, Norma spoke again. "You know, the thing of it is, I had the feeling just now that he DID want to talk to me, but he was afraid to."

Nick felt the urge to groan, but controlled himself. "Why do you say that?" he asked patiently.

"Well, as I said, when I first said ‘hello’ to him, he acted like he was scared out of his wits. But then, after a moment or two, he seemed to relax; he seemed glad to see me. And I had a FEELING, just a feeling, mind you, that there was something he really wanted to say, something he really wanted to talk to me about, something he was holding back. It seemed like he was just about to say it when he suddenly stiffened up, just like that." She imitated the instant ramrod-straight posture she’d seen her friend do a short while earlier. "With this real scared look on his face, and he suddenly turned right around and just lurched away. He turned back briefly, and said he was sorry but that he couldn’t talk right now, then turned back again and kept on walking all stiff-backed, only faster. It was weird!"

"I dunno," Nick said after a pause. "Maybe he IS having a nervous breakdown."

Another long silence followed. Then Norma spoke again. "Know what I think it is? I think maybe he broke up with his girlfriend."

Nick rolled his eyes. "No, wait," said Norma. "You know how stuck he was on Cathy, how you always saw the two of them together everywhere, they were never apart. Well now that I think about it, I haven’t seen her around Greg in a long time. I see her at that store of hers every once in a while on my way to work in the morning, but I never see the two of them together anymore."

"Hmph!" Nick snorted derisively. "So what does that prove? And so what if they did break up? That’s no reason for him to go flying off the deep end!"

"Well, Greg always was the sensitive type. And he really did love Cathy, you know, even if she was kind of flaky—"

"Cathy!" Nick spat the name out in disgust. "That psycho! I don’t know why Greg ever got mixed up with that lunatic in the first place! Sheesh, no wonder he’s goin’ around talkin’ to himself and rippin’ his clothes apart! Hanging around that crazy chick would drive anybody nuts after a while! For his sake, I hope she DID leave him; he’s probably better off without her! SON OF A---"

At that precise moment, the cup of hot mocha from which Nick had been sipping suddenly upturned itself, dumping its scalding hot contents all over his chest, stomach and lap. Immediately he jumped up from the chair, pulling his shirt off, and swearing a blue streak, while Norma grabbed some napkins to try and sop up the mess.

Suddenly the table itself toppled over, sending the plates and cups crashing to the floor. Norma was stunned for a moment; she didn’t even TOUCH the table, how the hell could it have tipped over? Then immediately after, table after table in the immediate area began to topple over, sending even more plates and cups crashing to the floor, with even more stunned faces watching the ensuing destruction. Plates and cups suddenly flew up from other tables, only come crashing down to the floor or go sailing off in wild directions. Heads ducked left and right, and people began to scurry out of the area. Then they began to run.

Both Nick and Norma stood stunned as they watched this entire display. His scalded lap momentarily forgotten, Nick merely stood staring, with eyes and jaw agape. "What the hell—" was all he could speak. He reached out with a trembling hand and held onto his wife, pulling her close to him. His heart felt like it was about to come pounding out of his chest, and the look on Norma’s face suggested that she was experiencing a similar sensation herself. "Nick…" Norma said in a tiny voice. "Let’s…let’s get out of here…!"

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