Mark's Mystery

Mark cautiously peered over his shoulder. He was getting close to the alleyway and he wanted to be sure no one was following him. He hadn't seen anyone suspicious so far, but you couldn't be too careful when you were on a top-secret mission.

It was almost midnight. Aside from a few lampposts casting their flickering glow onto the sidewalk, the street was dark and nearly deserted. The few people still out all seemed to be in a hurry, darting from one lamppost to another, disappearing into the shadows only to reappear in the next dim circle of light.

Mark stared into the dark places between the lampposts across the street, trying to see if there might be a person hiding there. He couldn't see anything moving. That didn't mean there wasn't someone standing perfectly still, but if that were the case, he thought the few pedestrians passing by would have noticed.

Confidant that no one was watching him, Mark slipped into the dark alley between two stores. Instantly, the stench of rotting meat, mingled with the sweet smell of dryer exhaust, assaulted his senses. His stomach heaved and Mark struggled not to be sick all over his shoes. He was tempted to just go home and forget about this whole silly business, but he decided he had come too far already. So, he concentrated on taking shallow breaths through his mouth until his nose could adjust to the smell and his stomach settled down again.

As a boy, Mark had read any mystery and detective-type books he could get his hands on, starting with the Hardy boy mysteries and moving on to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Adventures of Shirlock Holmes as he grew older. He had often dreamed about stepping into the pages of those books or, better yet, solving his own real-life mystery. Now, he finally seemed to have his chance. Okay, so it wasn't really a top-secret mission, but it certainly was mysterious to him.

When he had picked up his mail today, in amongst all the bills, statements, and stacks of advertising flyers, he had found a plain white envelope addressed to him. Mark had become immediately curious about it because the envelope did not have a return address, nor had it been stamped. "How strange," Mark had thought, "I wonder how it got in there?" As soon as he got back to his apartment, he ripped it open, but the contents did not give him any clues or answers, just more questions. Inside the envelope was a single sheet of paper, which read:

Mark,

Meet me tonight at midnight in the alley between Ted's Meats and Sarah's Laundromat on Mill Road. I have a proposal that I think will interest you.

Signed, Y

Mark couldn't begin to guess who had sent the note, or what information this person had. But he hoped it was exciting - it had to be, didn't it? Why else would the note have been so secret and mysterious? Maybe it was about a danger to the city, or to the whole country, that only he could prevent! He could already see his picture on the front page of the newspaper with the headline "Mark Saves the Day! Three Cheers for Our Hero!"

A sudden noise in the alley behind him startled Mark out of his reveries.

He spun around. At first, he couldn't see anything. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. Mark started to move closer, trying to pick out solid objects amongst the shadows. The moon chose that moment to come out from behind a cloud and shine its pale light into the alley.

Mark screamed in fright as he glimpsed something green and scaly.

He didn't wait to find out exactly what it was - he ran out of the alley and back down the street. And he didn't stop until he was safely back in his apartment. He hadn't even bothered trying the elevator, instead dashing up six flights of stairs. His key was already in his hand as he raced down the hall. Mark unlocked the door in record time, slipped inside and slammed it behind him.

Once he knew he was safe, he leaned back against the door, gasping for breath and waiting for his heart to stop racing.

In the bright light of the apartment, he started to feel foolish. Mark didn't believe in dragons, so that couldn't be what he had seen. It had probably been an old costume, or something, caught on a hook and being blown around by the wind. He just hadn't been able to see it very well and that's why it had startled him. Of course he hadn't really been scared. And he had run back here because he was tired of waiting. If whoever it was who had sent the note had been on time, ... It was probably just a silly prank, anyway. Probably one of his friends trying to scare him. Too bad it didn't work.

Having convinced himself that he wasn't, and hadn't been, scared, Mark decided it was time for bed. But he left a light on in the bathroom, which he had never done before, though he told himself it was in case he had to get up during the night, so he wouldn't run into anything.

*****

By morning, Mark was sure that what he had seen in the alleyway had indeed been an old scrap of fabric. He had thought about going to check it out, but that really wasn't necessary. Besides, he didn't really have time - he had too much to do today.

You may notice that the story doesn't seem quite finished. That's so that you can think about what you want to have happen next, and how you want the story to end.
E-mail me any suggestions. ;kej