dropping
my head onto the table. It was all so... vague.
“ Honestly, Adelaide, I’m
more concerned with the person who wants to hurt you. Do you know
who that might be?” Nancy pressed. “Are you in trouble?” She was
worried, but then, she always was.
I wanted to tell her,
knowing she’d help me if she could. And wasn’t that why I’d come?
For help. To unload my suspicions concerning Demidov’s diary and
the reoccurring nightmares. But she’d just confirmed my worst fear,
that any knowledge in that regard was dangerous. It had gotten
Theodore Dunn murdered, and nearly me too. I couldn’t involve her,
it wouldn’t be fair.
“ Nope,” I lied. “No
trouble and no clue, I haven’t the foggiest idea why someone would
want to hurt me.”
Chapter 7
I shouldn’t have gone into
work after that reading. It put me in a foul mood, and I suppose,
in retrospect, I was something of a bitch that day. I arrived a
little late, expecting Ben to yell about it, but he didn’t even
notice. He was too busy getting serenaded.
Slightly behind
Sterling’s, perched just inside the motel’s lot was a gigantic oak.
Spanish moss dripped from each branch, a lazy curtain that swung
softly in the wind. Canopied below, hiding in the shade, was a
picnic table. Unlike the rest of us, Ben preferred that spot (even
in the dead of summer) to the office and its small comforts, namely
the wheezing air conditioner.
He sat there now, only he
wasn’t alone. Sprawled along the tabletop, guitar in hand, was a
guy my age, early to mid twenties and no older. With natural
sun-kissed hair and skin he looked like a young Brad Pitt, though a
lot less mysterious. He was the type to wear his heart on his
sleeve, emotions exposed. I hated the type.
He was singing as I
approached. He had a pleading voice, it overlapped the simple
chords very well, but for some reason that only annoyed me
more.
“ What’s this?” I asked,
waving a hand between them as I approached. “What’s going on
here?”
Ben was feeling distinctly embarrassed, but
his face only betrayed slight traces of shame. He covered it well,
blustering up for a big fight. “Something wrong with your ears?” he
sneered. “It’s a song, that’s what.”
“ You’re having a stroke,
aren’t you?” I asked with pretended worry, egging him on. “That’s
why you’re being so erratic, you’re dying .” I suppose it occurred to
me then that Ben wasn’t the only one who enjoyed a good fight.
Relentlessly I continued, “I mean, why else would you listen to
this guy? He’s got an earring! You hate when men pierce their
ears.”
Ben exploded off the
bench, moving quickly for one so old. “Piss off, Adelaide!” he
hollered. “He’s a guest at Sterling’s, paid up for a week! Room
seven,” he ground out, threatening, “so you’d best be
professional.”
I watched him stalk off,
his shoulders aimed forward as he left the lot, not lingering like
usual, but walking straight home. Something else occurred to me
then. Unlike Ben, I didn’t feel better after a fight, only
worse.
“ Hey,” the guy on the
picnic table said a bit awkwardly. “My name’s Tim.”
“Team?”
“Tim.”
Great , I thought, another Tim .
“You’re from Australia, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m here on—”
“ I don’t care,” I
interrupted. “Just... shut up.” I turned on my heel and walked off,
heading towards the office. And that was how I started my shift,
and trust me, it only got worse. After the sun went down, Arnie and
Renee stopped by for their ‘usual.’ Rumor around town was that
Renee and her husband Patrick wanted to have a baby, and if
Francesca’s gossip was to be believed, then that meant Arnie would
be passing along his genes tonight in hopes of creating an Arnie
Jr. Bleck ,
the baby would probably come straight from the womb covered in fur,
a little ape just like its father. But I didn’t put much stock in
gossip, I was still hoping for the
my head onto the table. It was all so... vague.
“ Honestly, Adelaide, I’m
more concerned with the person who wants to hurt you. Do you know
who that might be?” Nancy pressed. “Are you in trouble?” She was
worried, but then, she always was.
I wanted to tell her,
knowing she’d help me if she could. And wasn’t that why I’d come?
For help. To unload my suspicions concerning Demidov’s diary and
the reoccurring nightmares. But she’d just confirmed my worst fear,
that any knowledge in that regard was dangerous. It had gotten
Theodore Dunn murdered, and nearly me too. I couldn’t involve her,
it wouldn’t be fair.
“ Nope,” I lied. “No
trouble and no clue, I haven’t the foggiest idea why someone would
want to hurt me.”
Chapter 7
I shouldn’t have gone into
work after that reading. It put me in a foul mood, and I suppose,
in retrospect, I was something of a bitch that day. I arrived a
little late, expecting Ben to yell about it, but he didn’t even
notice. He was too busy getting serenaded.
Slightly behind
Sterling’s, perched just inside the motel’s lot was a gigantic oak.
Spanish moss dripped from each branch, a lazy curtain that swung
softly in the wind. Canopied below, hiding in the shade, was a
picnic table. Unlike the rest of us, Ben preferred that spot (even
in the dead of summer) to the office and its small comforts, namely
the wheezing air conditioner.
He sat there now, only he
wasn’t alone. Sprawled along the tabletop, guitar in hand, was a
guy my age, early to mid twenties and no older. With natural
sun-kissed hair and skin he looked like a young Brad Pitt, though a
lot less mysterious. He was the type to wear his heart on his
sleeve, emotions exposed. I hated the type.
He was singing as I
approached. He had a pleading voice, it overlapped the simple
chords very well, but for some reason that only annoyed me
more.
“ What’s this?” I asked,
waving a hand between them as I approached. “What’s going on
here?”
Ben was feeling distinctly embarrassed, but
his face only betrayed slight traces of shame. He covered it well,
blustering up for a big fight. “Something wrong with your ears?” he
sneered. “It’s a song, that’s what.”
“ You’re having a stroke,
aren’t you?” I asked with pretended worry, egging him on. “That’s
why you’re being so erratic, you’re dying .” I suppose it occurred to
me then that Ben wasn’t the only one who enjoyed a good fight.
Relentlessly I continued, “I mean, why else would you listen to
this guy? He’s got an earring! You hate when men pierce their
ears.”
Ben exploded off the
bench, moving quickly for one so old. “Piss off, Adelaide!” he
hollered. “He’s a guest at Sterling’s, paid up for a week! Room
seven,” he ground out, threatening, “so you’d best be
professional.”
I watched him stalk off,
his shoulders aimed forward as he left the lot, not lingering like
usual, but walking straight home. Something else occurred to me
then. Unlike Ben, I didn’t feel better after a fight, only
worse.
“ Hey,” the guy on the
picnic table said a bit awkwardly. “My name’s Tim.”
“Team?”
“Tim.”
Great , I thought, another Tim .
“You’re from Australia, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m here on—”
“ I don’t care,” I
interrupted. “Just... shut up.” I turned on my heel and walked off,
heading towards the office. And that was how I started my shift,
and trust me, it only got worse. After the sun went down, Arnie and
Renee stopped by for their ‘usual.’ Rumor around town was that
Renee and her husband Patrick wanted to have a baby, and if
Francesca’s gossip was to be believed, then that meant Arnie would
be passing along his genes tonight in hopes of creating an Arnie
Jr. Bleck ,
the baby would probably come straight from the womb covered in fur,
a little ape just like its father. But I didn’t put much stock in
gossip, I was still hoping for the
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