Sandy had called his cell
and suggested they get some breakfast. Greg didn’t want to stop,
but he
was
feeling a little weak.
“
I’m starving, Man,” said
Sandy as he got out of his car. He and Rebecca had kept each other
wide awake by exchanging stories about themselves.
“
You were driving awfully
fast, Greg,” said Rebecca.
“
Sorry,” said Greg, even
though he really wasn’t.
“
No,” she said. “I
like
to go
fast.”
Sandy caught the double meaning, and smiled
at Rebecca. She smiled back at him, but he wondered whether she was
smiling for the same sexy reason.
Greg saw different smiles than he had seen
between them earlier at the hotel. Like two people with a secret.
Like two lovers. Lovers? How could they be lovers? They’d been
driving down the interstate at 85 mph. Although…he wouldn’t put it
past Sandy to attempt it. I must be getting delirious, he
thought.
As soon as they had been seated, Greg got up
to walk to the bathroom. On the way, he passed a table that had not
yet been cleaned, and stopped in his tracks. There was a paper
napkin that had obviously been used and then neatly refolded. And
the silverware had even been placed back on top of it.
“
Did you see who was sitting
here last?”
The waitress seemed uneasy with his
question.
Why? What did she know that she was not
saying? Then he realized the wild look in his eyes was probably
scaring her.
He spoke confidentially. “I’m sorry. My
girlfriend is missing, and I thought she might have been
here.”
“
Well, this isn’t my table,
but I did notice the
woman
. She had beautiful red
hair.”
“
Yeah—that was her. How long
ago did they leave?”
“
Five or ten
minutes.”
Greg rushed to Sandy and Rebecca, who were
looking over the menu.
“
We’ve gotta go.
Now!”
“
We were just about to
order,” said Sandy.
“
They were here. He brought
her here.”
“
How do you know?” said
Rebecca.
“
I just do. Come
on!”
Greg hustled out of the restaurant, with
Sandy and Rebecca close behind.
As they hurrying to their cars, Greg said.
“I saw a napkin. It had been used and then refolded—just like
Cynthia does it.”
“
A napkin?” said
Sandy.
“
Yes. She always does that.
It’s a habit. And the waitress said she had beautiful red hair. I’m
telling you—it was Cynthia!”
“
But, Greg,” said Rebecca,
“we don’t know which way they went.”
Greg looked at the cars and trucks flying by
in both directions on I-45. “I know, but we can’t just sit around
while he gets away. We were so close. They must have just pulled
out when we drove in.” An idea flashed through Greg’s mind. “We can
split up and go to every gas station and any other place that’s
open and ask if they saw them.”
“
Well, it’s only a little
after 6:00. Not much is open this early,” said Sandy.
“
That’s good,” said Greg.
“That should make it easier. I’ll go south and y’all can go
north.”
“
He might not have even got
back on the freeway,” said Rebecca.
Greg waved his arms in the air wildly. “I
don’t care. Let’s just go, and hope we get lucky.” He jumped in the
Bonneville, cranked up the big V-8 and drove off.
Sandy shook his head. He wanted to help his
buddy, but his stomach wanted to go back inside for tall stack of
pancakes. “Let’s go.”
He and Rebecca got into Sandy’s silver
Impala and took the feeder road to the next street, made a U-turn
and headed north.
**********
“
May I help you?”
The diminutive elderly woman was startled by
the huge man standing over her. It was only 8:00 AM, and the
grocery store had just opened. If she cried out for help, would
anyone even hear her? But then she realized it was only Crow.
Kroger Bagley, Jr. was the 6’ 2”, 235-pound
29-year-old son of a grocer who was himself the son of a grocer. He
had worked for his dad at Bagley’s Food Mart in Sugar Land since he
was 16.
“
Oh, Crow, you scared me,”
she said as she slapped his arm.
To him, her slap felt like the brush of a
feather. “I’m sorry, Mrs. uh…Jacobs. You need something off the top
shelf?” He jumped into a karate stance, and looked like he was
about to attack the shelves at any moment. Then he squinted as he
surveyed the upper rows of cereal boxes.
Mrs. Jacobs watched him for a few seconds.
It was as though he might be able to figure out what she wanted if
he just studied them long enough. Such a nice boy, she thought.
Not too bright though.
“
The Nabisco Shredded
Wheat,” she said.
“
Oh!” He snapped his fingers
as though he almost had it.
“
You’ll get it next time,
Dear.”
“
Here you go. Have a great
day, Mrs. Jacobs.” He grinned at her and waved broadly as she
ambled down the aisle.
Then he heard something hit the floor and
break on the next aisle.
“
Zachary, I told you not to
touch anything.”
“
I’m sorry, Mommy,” said the
young boy, with no hint of sincerity.
“
Well, you’re
gonna
be sorry when
I get you home, Mister.”
Crow ran around the end of the aisle and up
toward the scene of the accident.
Zachary started crying when he saw the big
man barreling toward him at full speed.
His mother said, “I’m sorry about this.
Look, just at it to my bill.”
“
Oh, no, that’s not
necessary, Ma’am,” he said as he tried to catch his breath. “I just
don’t want anybody to slip and fall down.”
He took the walkie-talkie from his belt and
held it to his mouth. “I need a cleanup on aisle seven,
Johnny.”
“
Thanks.” The young lady
rolled her cart down the aisle, fussing at her son all the
way.
The pretty lady reminded
Crow of his girlfriend. Well, she wasn’t really his
girlfriend
yet
. But he could tell she liked him a lot.
It had been about a year since he had told
everybody at the dinner table that he was moving out. His dad was
shocked and his mother started sobbing. He later realized she was
crying because she didn’t think he could make it on his own. His
79-year old grandfather had said, “Well, it’s about time, boy.”
They were all impressed that he had already located and signed
paperwork for an apartment. It was only a few blocks away—but
still.
At first his mom and dad took turns dropping
by his place to check on him. But after a couple of months it sunk
in: he could actually survive on his own. Although, his mom was
still not convinced he was eating well enough. Did a grocery store
mom spend more time worrying about her children eating vegetables
than a typical mom? He didn’t know. She was the only mom he’d ever
had.
On the very first day at his
new place, he had bumped into his girlfriend. Of course, she was
not his girlfriend
then
. They hadn’t even met
yet.
She was standing at the mail boxes when he
drove up. And just as he was approaching, she turned to walk away
with her mail. He had accidentally caught her with his right
shoulder and knocked her backward, sending her mail into the air.
He grabbed her just before she could hit the ground.
He had apologized like
crazy. But she had seemed more
amused
than upset.
Later that night he had
heard a knock and thought someone was at his door. So he opened it
and saw a pizza delivery guy standing across the hallway. When the
door opened—it was
her
again.
He just stood there watching like a puppy as
she paid the delivery guy and he walked off.
“
You like pepperoni?” she
said.
“
Sure.”
And that was how it all started. Pizza and
TV. Or Chinese takeout and a movie.
They were great friends. And to him, much
more.
She laughed at him a
lot—sometimes when he wasn’t even trying to be funny. But he didn’t
care. He loved to make her laugh. But he did wonder why she never
wanted to go
out
to eat or go
out
to a movie. Or out
anywhere.
So, she wasn’t his
girlfriend
yet
. But he was already
her
boyfriend—even if she
didn’t know it.
Someday, the Food Mart would be all his…and
so would she.
Mr. and Mrs. Kroger Bagley, Jr.
Crow and Chaucey.
Chapter
19
“
Hello?”
“
Hey, Sandy. Where are you
guys?”
“
I was just about to call
you, Buddy. We just stopped at Starbucks. Why don’t you come join
us? We’re on the corner of Grogan’s Mill and Sawdust.”
“
Yeah, I think I passed it a
while ago. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Sandy hung up and looked at Rebecca. “I
can’t believe we drove around for three hours looking for
them.”
Rebecca was working at her laptop. “I just
hope Larry has posted another chapter.”
“
He might have done it in a
coffee shop.” Sandy looked around for a table with a refolded
napkin.
“
Well, I don’t know where he
did it
from
,
but—“
“—
he posted a new
chapter?”
“
Yep.”
“
What does it
say?”
“
Give me just a minute. You
want to get us some coffee?”
“
Sure.”
By the time Sandy came back with three
coffees and three big blueberry muffins, Greg had walked in.
“
Okay,” said Rebecca, “this
is good news.”
Greg perked up. “What?”
“
He leased an
apartment.”
“
Here in The Woodlands?”
said Sandy.
“
He’s kinda vague on that.
But it’s got to be somewhere close. Leasing offices wouldn’t open
before 8:00 or 9:00. And it’s just 9:15.”
“
What does he say about
Cynthia?” said Greg.
“
I don’t know if you really
want to hear this,” she said.
“
What? Tell me?”
“
He says he will make love
to her every hour of the night—”
“—
I’m gonna kill him,” said
Greg.
“
And that in the morning she
will still be begging for more.”
“
He really thinks he’s hot
stuff, doesn’t he?” said Sandy.
“
We’ve got to hurry and find
them,” said Greg. “Surely he gives some hint about where they
are.”
“
Not in the chapter posting.
Let me check the comments,” she said. “There’s another one from
this woman named Chaucey who propositioned him earlier. She is so
weird.”
“
What does she say?” said
Greg.
Rebecca tried to read it aloud.
And she obeyed hym in
every thing
That myghte doon hym plesance or likyng
.
Greg and Sandy responded in unison.
“What?”
“
I think it’s Old English or
Middle English.” Rebecca turned the laptop around so they could
read it for themselves.
“
Well, look at his
response,” said Greg. “They seem to be speaking the same
language—whatever it is.”
Of vitaille and of
oother purveiaunce,
They goon and pleye hem al the longe day
.
“
And he says his heart is
near,” said Sandy, “—whatever
that
means.”
“
Wonder if it means
he’s
physically
near?” said Rebecca.
“
What if he is?” said Sandy.
“How does that help us? We don’t know where
she
is.”
Rebecca turned her laptop back around and
started typing.
“
And how can we possibly
find her?” said Sandy. “We don’t even know her last
name.”
“
We don’t even know that
her
first
name is
real
,” said Greg.
“
I got a hit,” said Rebecca.
“I googled ‘Chaucey Houston’ and got the website of a graphic
designer named Chaucey Reed.”
“
Where does she live?” said
Greg.
“
It doesn’t say. Just gives
her email address,” she said.
“
Well, we could email her
and ask her where she lives,” said Sandy.
“
And you think she’d tell
you?” she said.
“
Yeah—if she wants to do
business with me,” said Sandy.
“
Let’s just start searching
apartment complexes,” said Greg. “Rebecca, you said he’s probably
driving a dark green Jaguar.”
“
Yeah,” she said. “I think
he passed me as I was turning on to his street. But at the time I
didn’t know what kind of car he drove. I should have thought to ask
about
all
his
cars when I called my friend at the DMV the first time. That was
stupid. I could have had him.”