Christian Sinclair, 3/16/09 10:57 AM

I close my cell phone more than a little annoyed. My primary lead has run dry for the time being, seeing as he won’t answer his phone. I guess it’s on to my second hopeful. It’s a slim chance, but after about a year of searching for someone else like me and not finding anyone I’m willing to take it.

I sip the cup of Java Jett’s house special coffee I ordered as I wait. I’ve been scouting this location a while now, hesitant to move on such loose ends, and I was hoping this new lead that just came up with the car wreck would allow me to move on to something better. I decide to go over my sources one more time.

Holding up a newspaper to pretend like I’m reading it I probe the area with my mind. I soon find the free wifi high-speed internet offered by the coffee shop and easily connect myself. Soon my mind is flooded with information, the whole net’s worth. I remember the first time this happened I couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on, but now I simply move through the information as if it were second nature. I’m able to recheck my facts and e-mails in a matter of moments. As far as I can tell it is indeed my mark that caused the disturbance at the evacuation shelter in Huntsville during Hurricane Ike.

A chime followed by a woman’s voice announcing the current time is 11:00 CDT momentarily interrupts my thoughts. It’s the Atomic Clock. Anytime I’m connected to the net it updates me every half hour. My subject is late.

No real surprise there, he is rarely on time, a fault that drives me crazy. I tap my foot beneath the table looking over the paper at the small shop next to the coffee house that continues to lay dark and still.

I decide to surf the blogosphere and new sites while I wait seeking any more useful info. I make a mental bookmark on an interesting story at the University of Houston website about a strange incident in the choir room involving what they believe was malfunctioning sound equipment.

17 minutes and 45 seconds pass before my target finally comes rolling up on his skateboard. He hops up onto the curb and kicks rhe board up into his hand in front of the door as he fishes through his pockets for the keys to the store. He yawns as he unlocks it then brushes his shaggy brown hair away from his eyes as he steps inside and flips the closed sign to open.

His name’s Johnathan Wagner, according to his facebook, where he has 116 friends, he goes by Johnny. His hair is brown and medium length, he doesn't spend too much time combing it so it is almost always unkempt, He wears a pair of thick rimmed glasses over his green and brown eyes. His face is almost always covered in stubble. He is enrolled at the University of Houston as an art major; photography is his specialization. However, from the looks of his SAT scores he could have been premed or something if he wanted. He’s spent most of his life in therapy and is on a cocktail of prescription drugs ranging from antidepressants to antipsychotics. His parents, both retired, moved away from Houston after Johnny started college. They moved to Galveston first, but after their home was destroyed in the hurricane they moved to Elkins Lake, a golf community in Huntsville. It was in Huntsville where it is reported that Johnny was involved in an incident where he threw up to as many as five people (the number varies with the source) off of him when he became overwhelmed by his agoraphobia. The police report claims no one was seriously injured and therefore no charges were filed. When asked how the 5’11” 185 lb 20 year old was able to fling all those people away from him at once, Johnny simply said he had no idea. The police chocked it up to adrenaline. A few of the blogs from witnesses claim he wasn’t even touching any of the people when they flew away from him. One that was posted by one of the victims claims that he felt a wave of force like the air itself lifted him from the ground and threw him across the gym. Several of the nearby cots and luggage were thrown as well according to others. There are, however, enough conflicting reports out there to make me doubt and question what really happened.

Either way, today’s the day I make first contact. I sit back in my chair and tune my head to one of my favorite Internet radio station. I let the tunes wash over me as I sip my coffee and wait. I don’t want to the be the first customer so I’ll just bide my time until a few patrons show up at the dragon’s lair comic shop…