Illusion of Luck

by Robert Burton Robinson

  “I thought he was lying—just mouthing off. He said my call woke him up and…I just realized something.”

  “What?”

  “He said it was 9:30. That’s an hour later than it is here. That’s Eastern Time.”

  “So, ifhe was telling the truth about the time, he might already be in Orlando,” said Sandy. “I tried calling Greg’s cell phone, but it was turned off. And they didn’t answer their hotel room phone. But it’s probably just as well, because I really hate to spoil what’s left of their honeymoon. And I really think Larry’s lying. We know he made up the story about what happened in the motel room with Chaucey Reed. And he’s got to figure Cynthia went to the police and that there’s a warrant out for his arrest. But, just to be on the safe side…I have a proposition for you.”

  Rebecca hesitated. “What kindof proposition?”

  “I did some checking. We could catch a noon flight out of DFW. There’s an hour layover in Atlanta, but we’d be in Orlando by dinner time.”

  “I see.”

  “Then we could enjoy Disney World for a couple of days while keeping an eye on Greg and Cynthia. And if Larry is crazy enough to try something, we could nab him.”

  “Nabhim?”

  “Well, isn’t that what you private eyes say?”

  Rebecca laughed. “Sounds like you’ve been watching too many old movies. Nabhim?” She laughed harder.

  “Well, at least I made you laugh. And I do love to hear you laugh. So, what do you say? Want to go see the Mouse?”

  “I’d have to reschedule some things…but, sure.”

  Rebecca agreed on a time and place to meet Sandy at the airport and hung up. Then she realized several details had not been discussed. Where would they stay? Would they get separate rooms? Was he expecting to sleep with her?

  This could be a very interesting trip, she thought.

  **********

  “Pretty good food, huh?” Greg took another bite of his scrambled eggs.

  “Verygood. But I know the real reason you wanted to eat here,” said Cynthia.

  “What do you mean?”

  She nodded to whomever was behind Greg.

  He turned around. “Oh, hi.”

  “Good morning.” It was Cinderella. “I hope you’re enjoying your magical vacation.”

  “We’re on our honeymoon,” said Cynthia.

  Greg frowned at Cynthia. “Great—now you’ve blown my chances with her.”

  Cynthia punched him in the arm.

  Cinderella giggled and said, “Have a wonderful honeymoon.” She moved on to the next table.

  “Oh, there’s the prince,” said Greg. “I suppose you’ll want to flirt with him. Go ahead—I deserve it,” He pouted and bowed his head.

  “I already have my prince.” She smiled as she gently took his chin in her hand and lifted his head.

  “And I have my princess.”

  “So, where shall we go today, My Prince?”

  “How about Disney-MGM, My Princess? That Rock ‘n’ Rollercoaster ride sounds great!”

  “Oh, yeah, and I want to ride the Tower of Terror.”

  “This is gonna be so much fun. I can’t believe we’re actually here. And, by the way, have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the morning light?”

  “Thank you.”

  “In anylight, really. But this morning you’re…almost glowing.”

  Cynthia leaned toward him and whispered. “It’s because my husband made love to me last night…and yesterday afternoon…and this morning. And he made my body feel amazing—better than it’s ever felt before.” She leaned back. “I might actually be youngertoday.”

  “I feelyounger. That’s it—now I understand. We’ve discovered the elusive secret sought by so many throughout the course of history—the Fountain of Youth.”

  “Well, since we’re feeling like a couple of teenagers—let’s go act like it!”

  Greg jumped up from the table and took her hand. “You got it, Baby!”

  They paid for their breakfast and headed for the Disney-MGM Studios bus stop.

  Nothing could spoil their fun.

  **********

  After hiding behind a beard for seven or eight years, he wasn’t sure what he looked like under there. But with each stoke of the razor, he became less Larry Luzor and more somebody else.

  He studied his clean-shaven face in the mirror. “They’ll never know it’s me.”

  Brushing his hair back into a ponytail changed his look even more. I’m a graduate student, he thought. But it was February, so okay—he was taking a semester off. He laughed. Whatever. The important thing was that the guy in the mirror looked way too young to be either Larry Luzor or Barry Undermine.

  The drive from Coreyville had been exhausting. He had not arrived in Orlando until 5:00 AM. But as his body attempted to rest, his mind kept itching until he got up and scratched it by writing and posting another chapter. Then he had slept soundly for three hours—until Rebecca Ranghorn called. She must have been quite proud of herself, he thought, for helping to rescue Cynthia at the football stadium. But she would never have the satisfaction of avenging Melanie’s brutal murder.

  The plot of Larry’s novel had taken some unexpected and undesired twists, and now his main character had become desperate. The title of the book, Illusion of Luck, had become all too appropriate. The leading man had loved the redhead for many years. But now, she had rejected him—repeatedly, and gone off with another man. Even after proving he was willing to killfor her, she still did not believe in his undying love.

  And now, knowing there would be no happily ever after, that she would never welcome him into her arms, he altered his ultimate goal. Since she would not willingly offer herself to him, he would take her by force.

  Deep into her rich soil would he thrust his seeds, with full knowledge that the harvest would come in time. And with all confidence he knew she would resist the mighty urge to dig up the precious seeds and toss them to the swine, since this would go against her deeply-held beliefs.

  And though he might die in the fields with his plowshare yet exposed in the blazing sun, withering away slowly, day by day; his seedling would live on, and thereby, would he.

  The redhead would nurture the child, though it be him, reincarnated. She would hold him lovingly to her breast for suckle, wash his body tenderly and whisper to him with a mother’s sweet breath.

  So, if he must die and be born again in order to be one with her… so be it.

  **********

  “Hey, son, you should be working instead of playing around on the internet.”

  “I’m on my coffee break, Dad,” said Crow.

  “Well, then where’s your coffee?”

  Crow frowned at him.

  “I’m just kidding. But you’re wasting your time. There’s nothing but trouble out there.” He walked off.

  You may be right, thought Crow. Barry Undermine’s book was disgusting. Sure, he used a lot of flowery words, but to Crow it was just frilly ribbons tied around piles of dog poop.

  He wondered if Barry had really followed Greg Tenorly and his new wife all the way to Disney World. Maybe Greg would push Barry off the top of a rollercoaster. It was fun to imagine him falling…falling…falling to his death. Oh, the horror that would race through his mind as he fell. It wouldn’t be enough payback for what he had done to Chaucey, but it would help. Maybe Barry could make up a nice poem about his death as he fell.

  But what if Greg couldn’t handle the creep? What if he needed help? A rage began to build in Crow’s chest when he thought about Barry touching Chaucey, pushing her, trying to rape her.

  He pictured himself grabbing Barry’s head and squeezing it as hard as he could, until his eyes began to bulge, and then twisting his head a full 360 and ripping it right off his body. Then he could spin around and hurl it into the sky like a shot-put. He’d look back just in time to see Barry’s headless body collapse to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  Kroger Bagl
ey, Jr. was not a savage beast.

  But with Barry Undermine, he could sure act like one.

  Chapter35

  Normally, Chaucey’s work consumed her, and she thought of nothing else for eight to ten hours. At 7:00 AM, before sitting down at her computer, she always made herself a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch. Then, at around noon, on her way back from one of her few bathroom trips, she would grab it out of the fridge, along with a Diet Coke, and rush back to her computer desk. A couple of times she had forgotten to put the ham on her sandwich. No problem. She never even noticed it was missing.

  Even trips to the bathroom were not wasted. There were always design issues to work out in her head while walking to and from, and even while on the pot.

  But today was different. She stared at a computer screen of images that made no sense to her. All Chaucey could think about was Crow. In the past, thoughts of him only concerned what movie they would watch or what would be ordered for dinner. He was just a buddy to unwind with after a hard day’s work.

  She picked up her cell phone. This was so strange to her. Why did she feel she must hear his voice right this minute? They would be together for dinner. Couldn’t she wait until then?

  Crow’s cell phone went directly to voice mail, and she hung up.

  Just as well, she thought. What kind of message would that send if she called him while he was at work? She’d never done that before.

  Reading a little news would get her mind off him, she figured. But after reading only two paragraphs, she found herself googling Bagley’s and calling the store.

  “Bagley’s Food Mart.” It was a young-sounding woman’s voice.

  “Yes, could I please speak to Crow Bagley?”

  “Uh, just a moment, please.”

  Chaucey could only hear mumbling.

  Then Crow’s father took the phone. “This Kroger Bagley. May I help you?”

  “Hi. This is Chaucey Reed, and I’d like to speak with Crow—that is, if he’s not too busy, Sir.”

  He sounded thrilled. “Oh yes, Chaucey. We’ve heard so much about you. Crow’s always saying ‘Chaucey did this’ and ‘Chaucey said that.’”

  What had Crow been telling his parents? Did they think she was dating their son? Sleeping with him? “Well, I would like to meet y’all.”

  “Great.”

  “I know Crow’s working, but is he available to talk for just a minute?”

  “He’s not here, Chaucey.”

  “Oh.”

  “When he asked me for a couple of days off this morning I figured the two of you had special plans. But I didn’t ask. I try not to pry too much.”

  “Oh, I see.” Surely Crow wasn’t about to knock on her door and ask her to elope. “Must be a surprise.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Please don’t tell him I said anything.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Well, you two kids have fun. Can’t wait to meet you, Chaucey.”

  After she hung up, she walked over to Crow’s apartment and let herself in. He had entrusted her with a key many months earlier.

  Maybe there was a brochure or a scribbled note somewhere, she thought. But she found nothing to indicate what he was up to. Then she bumped the mouse to bring his computer to life.

  His email program was open. She hated to snoop, but really needed to know what was going on. The subject for one of the emails was an airline ticket confirmation.

  Oh no, she thought. He isplanning a trip. How would she let him down gently? She just wasn’t ready for that. What if the tickets were non-refundable? Then she might feel obligated to go.

  But the reservation was only for one person—to Orlando. What’s going on here?

  She opened the other browser window and saw the familiar page of Barry Undermine. Crow needs to just forget about Barry, she thought. Chaucey wished shecould.

  She had not seen this chapter. It made her cringe, reading about the beautiful young woman who met the manipulative writer in a motel room and had wild sex with him. That woman was her. What if Crow thought that was what really happened?

  Chaucey refreshed the page to see if anyone had commented, and was surprised to see a new chapter that had been posted early that morning.

  Clearly, Barry was still after Cynthia. But how foolish of him to announce his intentions on the web. Greg and Cynthia would surely be following his writings and alert the police immediately.

  She couldn’t believe she had ever been interested in such a man. The writing that had days before seduced her, now made her skin crawl. He would force Cynthia to have sex with him so she would have his baby. What kind of sick, twisted mind would refer to that as ‘the fulfillment of my fantasy in Orlando?’

  Then it clicked. “Crow went to Orlando to hunt down Barry.”

  But it could go terribly wrong, she thought. Crow might yell to him from across the street. Barry starts running and leads him into a dark alley. When Crow follows him in, he doesn’t see Barry at first. Then he sees the gun—too late.

  If Crow would only answer his phone. She knew that once his mind was set, there was no stopping him. Crow was on a mission: to avenge the attempted rape of the woman he loves.

  Now she wondered if she loved Crow. Just two days earlier she wasn’t even thinking ‘Crow’ and ‘love’ in the same sentence.

  The question of love could be decided later. Right now, she had to keep him from doing something crazy and getting himself killed.

  She clicked back to the confirmation email, picked up the desk phone, and called Continental Airlines to see if there was still a seat available on Crow’s flight.

  **********

  Greg and Cynthia were in Disney-MGM Studios park, on their way to The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror.

  “I need to stop by the restroom, Sweetie.” Greg gave his wife a quick peck on the lips and walked toward the restroom.

  Cynthia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, bathing her face in the warm Florida sun. It was late February, and 70 degrees in Orlando—about ten degrees warmer than Coreyville, she figured.

  “Nice day, huh?”

  She heard the man’s voice, but didn’t realize at first that he was talking to her.

  “Uh, yes. Yes, it is.”

  “You and your husband look like newlyweds.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah. I saw him kiss you before he went in the restroom.”

  “I see.” What made this ponytailed guy an authority on marriage? He couldn’t have been over 25, and he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

  “Have you two been to the Tower of Terror?”

  “We’re on our way.”

  “Oh, you’ll love it. As long as you don’t have a weak stomach like I do.” He laughed. “Yeah, the first time I rode it I ended up shooting chunks all over the gray-hairs in front of me.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Yeah, I felt sorry for those poor old ladies. They got mad at me. But then theystarted throwing up too.”

  “So, they couldn’t handle the ride either.”

  “No, I think it was so much the ride as it was the puke running down the back of their necks.” He laughed. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t laugh at those old ladies.” He saw Greg coming out of the bathroom. “Well, anyway, have fun!” He walked away.

  “Who was that?” Greg put his sunglasses back on.

  “I don’t know. But he was warning me about the Tower of Terror. Made me wonder whether I have the stomach for it.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve seen you handle some very tough situations. I can’t imagine there’s anything out herethat can take you down. Now, me, on the other hand…”

  “Don’t worry, Baby. I’ll hold your hand.” She took his hand and kissed it.

  “Well, then I guess I’ll be okay.”

  She smiled seductively as she slowly licked one of his knuckles.

  “There is onewild ride that doesn’t scare me at all. In fact, I could ride all night long. And unless you want me to hop
aboard right now, you’d better quit licking my hand.”

  She stopped abruptly and grinned. “Okay. Let’s go ride the Tower of Terror.”

  They started walking.

  “We’ll save your favoriteride for tonight. It’s my favorite too,” she said with a wink.

  **********

  The ponytailed young man watched Greg and Cynthia walk toward the Tower of Terror. He had raised the pitch of his voice slightly and used a Midwest accent. That, along with his clean-shaven face, the ponytail, and his youthful attire had completely fooled her.

  Now he knew he could walk up to her and start talking, and she would not be afraid of him. And by the time she realized his true identity, she would be his.

  Chapter36

  Chaucey barely caught the 1:15 PM flight on Continental Airlines out of Houston. By the time she found her seat, the door had already been closed and the plane was ready to pull away. There was just enough room in the overhead for her small bag. The teenage boys in the aisle and window seats were thrilled to have a hot chick sitting between them.

  Once they were in the air and the seatbelt sign went off, Chaucey got up and headed for the back of the plane. It was nice to get away from the smothering heat of the testosterone twins.

  There he was—near the back of the plane in a middle seat.

  “Crow?”

  He looked up. “Chaucey?”

  She leaned over and spoke quietly. “Crow, what are you doing?”

  “Going to Orlando.”

  “Because you think Barry’s there?”

  “Yes.”

  The middle aged man in the aisle seat was enjoying a lovely view down Chaucey’s blouse. She sensed that at any moment he might press his face against her cleavage, like a kid at a candy counter.

  When she stood up, his neck stretched impossibly long as his eyes followed her breasts.

  “Sir, would you mind trading seats with me?”

  The expression on his face said he would give up his seat, open the emergency door and jump out of the plane—if that’s what she wanted. “Oh, uh, sure.”