36...

Frank stared down the bike path, towards the deep depths of the park, as if he were still watching Mike walk away. He scanned through his memory of what Mike had said, trying to make sense of it, trying to form a more manageable shape for it in his mind. He was trying to figure the importance of it. Somewhere in the deep wiring of his head, where instinct curled itself on a moth eaten rug and napped, a spark was firing and trying to get his attention.
Every time that Frank felt that rush of sudden discovery, his mind would suddenly become unfocused and he would lose what he had just glommed onto. It was like hearing the song he had in his mind disintegrating under the power and volume of a pop tune blaring from a stereo.
He heard the shuffling staccato beat of a runner coming up the path and turned warily to look. He felt his heart suddenly freeze in his chest and a mad voice charging his body to bolt. This runner had no face, no features, just a plain white field that shown back the pale sunlight.
Various reasons flooded through his mind at once; a ghost, a seriously deformed person, a hallucination. When the runner got up close, Frank realized he was wearing some sort of cloth over his face, below his eyes. He assumed this was to keep the runner warm in the fog-tinged air. The guy’s cap had shadowed the top half of his face, making the illusion whole. The guy saw Frank staring gaped mouth and he slowly turned his head to give him a wary look as he passed.
Frank sat back on the bench, breathing deep and trying to calm down.
“Seriously, man,” he said to himself.
He thought of Alexis and couldn’t help smiling. He closed his eyes and could clearly see that devil-may-care grin coming back at him, the sparkle in her eyes that gave absolutely nothing away. Somehow he knew she was in some sort of trouble, so far he had a series of random clues, but no proof. All the same, he knew it with a certainty.
Frank began to develop fantasies of rescuing her from her troubles, of defending her against faceless enemies with force he did not have. He imagined picking her up at her weakest, finally, and carrying her and having her lavish him with her affections for being there. Frank would remain stoic and proud, of course accepting her passionate accolades, but never showing that they were affecting him in any way. He would take her hand, strongly and firmly, and lead her through the dark forest.
Realizing that he was beginning to drift off, Frank shook his head to wake himself. He slowly, dopily, lifted his eyes open.
Yet another speeding bike shot past him like lightening, flying away towards the heart of the park.