by Mac Flynn
CHAPTER 2
Truth be told I wasn't sure I wanted this rich man, either. The way his blue eyes looked at me made me feel nervous, and that's why the next day I brought Old Unreliable out of the closet. It was a handgun of ancient lineage, sometime before Elvis, and hadn't been properly cleaned since the King's death. That made it a very unreliable gun and possibly a dangerous gun. It was probably more likely to shoot a person behind the gun than in front of it. Still, it was all I had for protection against this odd rich man and his strange propositions.
The next thing I did was call my mom. She lived in the same city but clear across town, much farther from my college than I wanted to commute so I lived in my own dingy apartment. She answered the phone after two rings, probably because she recognized the number and knew she wouldn't be harassed by a telemarketer, just her daughter. "Hey, Mom," I greeted her.
"What do you want now?" she asked me.
"Advice. Is that free or do I need to give you my debit card number?" I joked.
"Trixie Calhoun, don't you dare say that number of the phone. Goodness knows who will hear it," she scolded.
I rolled my eyes. "Probably just us and the rats in my apartment."
She sounded exasperated. "And I wish you'd move back home. I know you wanted to be closer to the campus, but that filthy place is just disgusting."
"It won't be home for much longer if I can just finish these next two years of homework and dirty looks from the teachers," I pointed out. "But I called to ask your advice about something. I met a guy last night-"
"Finally!" she exclaimed.
"-who for all I know is married," I continued. I heard the steam escape her inflated hope. "And he said he might have a job for me, maybe a better one. I said I'd come by his home tonight and see what he's offering."
Mom didn't sound happy about this at all. "Where does he live?"
"According to the address he gave me, somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, or a fifteen miles out of town," I replied.
"And how long have you known this Mr.-?"
"We talked for about fifteen minutes," I guessed.
My mom sighed. "Trixie, this sounds really bad. How old is this man? What does he do?"
My heart sank, but I wasn't going to take the safe route out; fortune favored the bold, and I was hoping for a small fortune from this rich benefactor. "He's about thirty and Sheila told me he runs his own company. Some Benson Investors or something"
"That doesn't bring me comfort," Mom dryly commented.
"I know, that's why I'm taking Old Unreliable. If anything goes wrong I can make the situation worse."
"For you or him?" she wondered.
"If I'm the one in back of the gun it might be more me," I admitted. "But he was sickly looking, so if push comes to rape I think I can take him."
Mom groaned. "Trixie, I know I can't convince you to not go, but please, please be careful, and don't forget your cell phone."
"I'm a college student, Mom, I have that with me twenty-four seven." I often forgot it in my car. "And I'll call as soon as I get back from the house."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
I ended the call and sighed. I hated to admit it, but Mom was right, this was a dangerous undertaking. The big problem was I was a little desperate on cash. I had a big rent payment coming in a month along with a new semester of book-buying that was sure to drive me into poverty, and my pay at the diner couldn't cut through soft cheese, much less these large expenses. If I went without food I could make things work, but my body refused to die for my college tuition.
There was always the option of asking my mom for money, but my pride wouldn't allow it. No matter how much I'd begged Pride, it always said no; damn stubborn thing. That meant my last hope was this unusual offer from an even stranger man to drive out to his place far in the country to see about the unknown job. What could go wrong?
