But Wait, There’s More!
When I was finished with mowing, her boyfriend Gary came over. My mother and Gary had been dating for about a year now, but they’ve never manager to keep together. By this time next week, they’ll have broken up and gotten back together again. I think it’s idiotic what she’s doing, but it’s not my decision to make.
“Get in here and help Gary with the food!” My mother said. It seemed he had brought over some burgers, more food to last another day. I brought in the food, and sat it in the kitchen. My sister was sitting there with a blank look on her face, as she always did.
Sometimes I worry about her, she may have some mental disorder. My mother would never get her examined, though, she couldn’t stand the thought of having a loony in the family. In my opinion, no one is completely sane. We all have our obsessions, we all have our little quirks. I guess it’s one of the things that make us somewhat individual.
I went back out and finished with the lawn. It didn’t take too long, considering it was only weed eating. I went back inside to eat what Gary had brought over.
“Oh good,” Gary said.”There you are. I need you to go into my trunk and get my bag.”
“Sure thing,” I said.
I walked out of the house and opened Gary’s trunk. It was a mess, papers scattered about, trash bags, and a bunch of lottery tickets. There was no bag to be found; so I decided to look in the rest of his car. I opened the driver’s side door, and looked around in the back. Again, a lot of scattered papers, fast food bags, and lottery tickets; no bag. I decided I’d look in his glove compartment, just for fun.
When I opened it up, there was a squeak. It seemed his latch was broken, but that didn’t matter to me. I looked inside and found something I don’t think he’d want me to see, a very large bag of cocaine. I closed his glove compartment and re-locked the car. I walked into the kitchen and gave Gary his keys back.
“I didn’t see your bag anywhere,” I told him. “You sure you didn’t leave it somewhere?”
“No,” he said. “I made sure to bring it… did you not look everywhere? If it’s not in the trunk, it’s probably in the glove box.”
“What’s it look like?” I pretended no to know anything.
“It’s just a plastic bag… only it’s got some white sand in it, you know, to keep my stuff from rusting.”
I could tell he was lying, what an idiot I would be if I believe him. I told him I had to go to the bathroom, and that I could get it when I was done, but he told me it was fine.
I guess I got out of that one pretty easily. I went up to my room and laid down for a bit. I felt my eyes start to droop. Slowly they shut.
I was asleep.
______________________________________________________________________________________
“What do you mean dead!?” she said.
“I’m sorry Mrs. King, but your son was found dead at the hotel. Is there anything I can do for you?” he said.
“You can get out of my home and stop lying to me,” Mrs. King said.
The man started towards the door, “Listen ma’am, your son is dead… call the hotel and find out yourself, I left the number on the counter,” the man said, closing the door behind him.
Mrs. King went into her kitchen and looked at the note.
SAINT RANGE HOTEL
847-9985
She decided to disregard it and make dinner. As she ate, she thought about her son, how he left in anger, left on bad terms. She didn’t want him to be dead; for if he was, she would be devastated. After her husband died, he was the only thing she had left, the only person who loved her for no reason. She craved attention and couldn’t stand to be alone.
“Why did I not stop him!?” She cried to herself. At that moment, she decided to call the hotel.
“Saint Range hotel, how may I help you?” A man said on the other line.
“Let me talk to your manager,” she said.
“He’s not in, may I take a message?”
“No, get you manager on the phone now!”
“Listen ma’am, yelling at me will not get the manager to come back any quicker. Now, can I take a message for him… or do you have a question I can answer?”
“Yes, I have a question; and you can tell this to your manager as well: Where is my son?”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play games! I know my son is there! Get him on the phone!”
“Who is your son, ma’am?”
“Austin King, now get him on the phone!”
“I’m sorry ma’am, but Mr. King is no longer with us.”
“You mean he left?”
“In a manner of speaking… ma’am… your son… your son is dead, ma’am”
“LIAR! How can you say such a thing! Get my son on the phone now!”
“I’m sorry… I can’t, ma’am… he really is… he’s dead.”
“Shut up! I’m coming up there, and if I don’t see him waiting for me at the door, I’ll… I’ll… I’ll kill you!” She slammed the phone down on the receiver and ran out to her car.
She drove. Miles, hours, she drove.
When she got there, her son was not waiting at the door, no one was at the door, no cars either. She went inside and got the attention of the attendant. He looked at her, and then went back to filing papers. She stood there a little longer then finally yelled to him.
“I’ve been standing here and you have yet to attend to me, may I ask why?” She said with a snicker.
“Well ma’am, as you can see, I’m busy. Could you wait just a moment?” He said as nicely as he could.
“No, now where’s my son?”
“Oh, so you’re the one from the phone. I thought you were just a prank caller; but I’m sorry, your son is dead.”
She glared at him. He was petrified, she had the look of a murderer in her eyes; and with the recent events that occurred in the hotel, he was a bit hesitant to deal with her.
“Ma’am, would like a free drink while you wait for the manager? I’m sure he can clear up this whole ordeal,” he said. She walked over to him and slapped him in the face.
“I’d recommend he gets here soon, or it’ll be much worse than a slap to the face, sir!” She said walking to the bar.
When she was in the bar, she heard “White Rabbit” by Jefferson Airplane playing.
“What can I get you ma’am?” The woman at the counter asked.
“Just a rum and cola,” Mrs. King said.
“Thanks for giving me something easy, the bartender’s been gone for a while.”
“Really? What happened to her?”
“No one knows, she just disappeared one day.”
“Odd…”
There was a silence, the manager walked into the room, the song said the words:
And if you go chasing rabbits
And you know you’re going to fall
Tell ‘em a hookah smoking caterpillar
Has given you the call
“Hello Mrs. King,” the manager said. “I’m George Ives, the manager.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“Now, you want to know exactly what happened to your son, am I correct?”
“Yes, now tell me.”
“Sure,” he said while slipping something into her drink. “But you’re not going to like what you hear.”
“My on is dead, there’s not much more to hear,” she said, finishing off her drink.
“Well, I don’t think here’s a good place to discuss this… can we go up to my office?”
“Fine,” she said standing up.
She was dizzy. She could barely stand. The song played the lines:
When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy dead
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen’s “off with her head!”
She fainted.
