Fate Of The Dragon

by Richard Lovegood

  “No. I’m…good for now.”

  She giggles and says, “You’re cute! I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes.” I watch her walk away this time. The exaggerated sway is still there. She must know that I’m watching. My nose brings my focus back around to my plate. There before me is the bangers and mash in all of its glory. The onions go perfectly with the sausage, and the gravy is very rich. Everything is so tasty! It doesn’t take me long to clean my plate, and I wash everything down with the glass of ice water that’s already been provided.

  My server comes back, and giggles again when she says, “Oh my! I see you were a bit on the hungry side! Did you save room for seconds then?”

  I share the giggle with her. “No. I try not to over indulge anymore.”

  “Anymore? You say that like you were obese or something.”

  “Well,” how much do I say? “At one point I was. But those days are long gone. No turning back for me.” I say as I smack my thigh to accentuate my point.

  She lifts a leg up, and props her foot on top of my table. Slapping her thigh, it jiggles a bit as she says, “Then you must share your secret diet with me! I’ve been trying to lose this jiggle for 10 years now!”

  “I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you.” I say sheepishly.

  “I’ll do anything once.” She says with a wink, and sets her foot back down on the ground.

  “I…don’t think I understand you.”

  “Honey, if you’re this thick in the head, then you’ve obviously lived under a rock your whole life.” She says with a snarky overtone.

  “No, not a rock. It’s actually an apartment complex in Los Pobres. That’s where I live.”

  She bellows out a huge laugh. “Los Pobres!? Can anything good come from that retched place? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone from there!” She extends her hand. “I’m Cassie. What’s your name, delicious?”

  “Elverson.”

  A blank stare is all I get in return.

  “It’s not a very common name; at least I don’t think it is.”

  “You got that right, honey. I’ve never heard its equal.” Cassie continues to stare at me the way a lioness stares at her prey.

  A gulp forms in my throat. I need to change the topic. “Um…I noticed that there was a section missing from your menu.”

  “Oh? Is that right? And what might that be?”

  “I…uh…well…I didn’t see a dessert section. Do you guys serve dessert here?” I ask nervously.

  “I thought you would never ask!” Cassie takes my plate, and leaves my water on the table. “I’ll be right back.”

  She disappears into the kitchen, and is gone for a few minutes. There’s a good-sized crowd now starting to gather in the restaurant. More and more servers are now on shift; all of which dressed like Cassie and what’s-her-name the hostess. The band comes back on stage from their brief break at the bar. They all take their positions on stage, and they each have a stool to sit on. The drummer, of course, has to sit down. My own little joke makes me chuckle, even though nobody else knows why. The singer leans forward and speaks into the microphone.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming out tonight!” The crowd whistles and cheers their approval. “Thank you, thank you! Well, as you know we are the Coe Walker Blues.” Another applause resounds throughout the place. Even some people out in the street start clapping. “I think with our playlist; the boys and I had a great chat at the bar about what we should play tonight. As fitting to our name, we are gonna do an entire lineup of David Allan Coe songs and follow them up with Jerry Jeff Walker songs. Lastly we’ll through in some great blues for you all to enjoy and get smashed to.” He stands up to highlight his next sentence. “Do I have any takers?!” He shouts out.

  The crowd responds with an ominous, “YEAH!”

  “Awesome. Our first one for tonight, is gonna be If That Aint Country.” More cheering follows.

  The lights dim in the main part of the restaurant, and the stage lights come up. The band begins to play and the singer leans forward and closes his eyes as he sings the first verse of the song. As I’m enjoying the show, Cassie comes back to the table.

  “Hey there, sexy beast. Are you ready for your dessert?” she asks me. I turn to look at her, and the knot at the front of her black shirt is loose. She grabs me by the hand and lifts me to my feet. It should have been easy to resist, but I’m not sure what’s happening. It’s like my feet have a mind of their own. She leads me from my table and through the velvet threshold.

  Beyond the curtain is a staircase leading to an upper floor. At the top, we turn the corner and there is a hallway with a series of doors similarly set up like a hotel hallway. She continues to tug on my arm to goad my direction. Coming to a stop she says, “Here we are. Third door on the left.” She opens the door, leads me inside, and locks the door behind us. Inside the room there is one bed, a table and chair combination, an entertainment center with a TV mounted to the wall slightly above it.

  “I’m going to freshen up a bit. Why don’t you make yourself…comfy.” She says with a seductive chuckle.

  “Uh, no thank you. I’m plenty comfy just standing here.”

  She laughs harder. “Oh, you are a kidder, aren’t you? You just wait right there, tease. I’ll be back to rip that wizard robe off of you in no time flat.” She slips into the bathroom, and leaves the door cracked. The shower comes on, and what she was wearing comes flying out of the bathroom before she slowly clicks the door shut. The realization of where I am, what this place is, and what her actual job is, hits me like a freight train. It’s time to leave.

  Crap the door’s locked. I forgot about that. Where did she put the key? A buzzing sound overhead catches my attention. It’s a camera. Why would they have a camera in a bedroom like this? It would be hard to steal furniture out of here, I would think. I don’t see where she would have placed the key anywhere, because it’s not on any of the surfaces in the room. Maybe her clothes? Highly doubtful that they may be in the thin fabric that’s considered a top, but maybe it’s in the skirt…mini skirt…kilt-thing. Yes, I’m right. There’s a pocket located on the right side, and sure enough there’s the key.

  Right as I get to the door and insert the key, I hear two male voices in the hallway. They sound oddly familiar. It couldn’t be those hired goons from Jeffers’ office…could it? My view through the peephole confirms that they are the same goons! This isn’t good at all. I remove the key from the lock and I vaguely feel it leave my hand. What do I do if they come in here? What do I say? Do I lie? Would they even recognize me? Should I hide? The panic is rising really quick, and I can feel it form a lump in my throat. I try to gulp it down, but it’s a stubborn lump.

  Knock knock.

  Oh, my goodness! They’re here! What do I do? The shower shuts off, and Cassie shouts from the bathroom. “Hang on a second!”

  One muffled voice from beyond the door responds, “Sure thing sweet cheeks.”

  Sweet cheeks? How many guys has she been with?

  Cassie opens the bathroom door, and I quickly sit down on the edge of the bed.

  “Changed your mind, I see. There’s a good boy.” She says cooing. With only a towel around her body, she goes to the door and opens it just enough to stick her head through. “What do you two idiots want?”

  “Da boss called and said he may have another recruit shortly. Something about a thrift store fire, and something else. I’m not really sure I forgot. But dis new girl is supposed to be da new supervisor for up here and keep tabs on everything.” He pauses, and tries to force himself in. Cassie closes the door on his face gently, pressing it against the threshold. “Hey, why can’t I come in? You got company?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Now beat it.” She says sternly. Cassie closes the door all the way and comes over to the bed. “Where’s the key?” she asks me.

  “What key?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me. There’s only one key that I
keep in one spot, and it’s not there. Where is it?” Her tone is no longer seductive, or cooing. It’s now very strict, demanding, and authoritarian.

  “Fine. I was desperate to get out of here, so I started looking around and found it in your skirt. As soon as I heard the voices of those guys coming down the hallway, I panicked. I must have dropped it somewhere.” I say.

  Cassie whips her head around, and looks to the door area. “I see. Don’t move.” She gets up and walks back over to the door and starts looking around. Stooping down she finds the key just underneath the vanity counter. She slowly looks to me while holding it, “Trying to escape?”

  “Yes I am. I know what you are, and I want no part of it. I’m going to leave and you can’t stop me.” I say with an unusual confident tone.

  “I can’t? Just watch me, honey.” She says through gritted teeth. To my surprise she leaps off the ground and lunges at me, pinning me to the bed. It happened in such a blur that I had no time to react. She’s surprisingly strong, and I can’t move.

  “What are you doing to me? I just wanted dessert!”

  “And that is exactly what I’m about to give you. Your just desserts.” She says.

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean?” I ask.

  “It’s my job to make sure that every man who comes through here gets the proper treatment. Jef…I mean my boss wants to ensure that all proceeds go to his foundation. So, you are going to sit here and enjoy your time or else I will take your life. It’s just that simple.” She says.

  “You work for Jeffers, don’t you!” I say accusingly.

  “How do you know Jeffers?” she rears back.

  “I use to work for him. I’m originally from Los Pobres, and I came up here to investigate why he came. Things were starting to get really weird over the past few weeks. Messages to the congregation weren’t making sense. He’s committed murder. He’s made fun of me on several occasions. The list goes on. I need to put a stop to him, or I have a feeling that a lot worse is going to happen.” I say. I’m not really sure why I said all of that. It felt like all of the words just came spilling out of their own accord. Should I have said all of that?

  Cassie sits on me, frozen. A look of bewilderment crosses her face. “Did you say congregation?”

  Uh oh. “Yes, I did.”

  Still clutching my arms and pinning me to the bed, she screams over her shoulder, “I FOUND HIM!” The camera above the door buzzes again, and I can kind of make out a blinking red light now. It must have turned to focus on the bed now. Within seconds, there is a pounding at the door. Cassie shouts again, “Give me a minute!” She looks back at me. “Don’t you dare move.” She gets up and heads to the door, unlocks it and the same two goons come barging in.

  “Where is he?” the first one asks.

  “You mean this isn’t the one?! But he said he used to work with Jeffers!”

  “Nah. Da boss said dat he is a fat man with a stutter. Bald and clean shaven. Dis man aint fat, and he sure aint clean shaven.” The first goon says.

  The second one chimes in with a laugh, “Yeah. Dat guy would still be wandering around the desert trying to find water, if he aint dead by now.”

  I feel really sick to my stomach now. Since I’m now free from being pinned down, I hop off the bed and make a break for it. I have all the evidence I need now. It catches all three of them off guard as I brush right past them. Zipping down the hallway, I’m surprising myself with this newly acquired speed. Down the stairs I go, through the restaurant… and right as the band is starting to play Charlie Dunn. Dang it! I wish I could stay, but I have to go. By the time I’ve passed the hostess counter, I hear the shouting from behind me. I stop long enough to see that all three of them came after me; and Cassie is still in her towel. Cheers, whistles and cat calls echo over the music, and the trio stop in their tracks. That provides me just enough time to slip out of the restaurant and on to the street. It’s time to move and fast.

  By this point in time, I have a feeling that Chuck is already back. I need to get a hold of him and let him know what I found out, and see if he can come get me. I haven’t run like this since…well never. I ran back when Steve was in danger, but that was the last time. However, that was a short time and lots of pounds ago. My lungs are protesting the sudden bursting of air that moves in and out. My joints and knees are creaking and cracking as they free up from their imprisonment. This must be what the Tinman felt like after getting a fresh dose of oil. Running, panting, and trying to focus where I’m going is very trying. In this moment, I have created a personal suspense movie scene. Where do I run? Alley? Convenience store? Whatever the location, it has to be somewhere that I can safely call Chuck and have him come back to get me.

  Bells ring in the distance. Those are church bells! That has to be a great place to hide. I round the corner and try to follow the sound as best as I can. Nothing that resembles a church is directly in sight, but I have to keep going. Thankfully about two buildings down, I can see an alley way that may serve as a temporary hiding spot. One building. Two buildings. Turn! I press my back up against the immediate wall, and stop to take a breath; or maybe more. The alley before me is just like out of many movies that I have seen. There’s a huge trash dumpster with the lid open; several black bags rest outside waiting to be tossed in. The walls are far enough apart for a vehicle to fit through, but not by much. This is going to be gross, but I don’t want to take any chances of getting seen or caught. Using the bags as a step stool, I climb over the side and into the dumpster.

  Time to wait.

  My breathing slows back to a normal pace, and I try to keep as quiet as possible. I’m curious as to how far those three would be willing to follow me; especially Cassie. I don’t know many people who would maintain a chase on foot in a bath towel. The two goons on the other hand? That’s a different story. Hearing them talk gives me an indication as to what their intelligence level might be at, and therefore limited job qualifications.

  Seconds turn into minutes. Minutes seem to drag on for what seems like hours. There’s no excessive movement outside; or inside this dumpster for that matter. All the sounds I am hearing are just the usual street sounds that I’ve been privy to since first initially being dropped off. I need to check my surroundings and see what’s going on. Popping my head up slowly just enough to have my eyes crest over the top, the view of the street is pretty clear. A man wearing headphones is walking his dog. A young girl with a backpack on the opposite side is walking towards the main street. Three young men walk past a few minutes later, laughing and joking about something that makes no sense to me. They all keep saying the word “hashtag” before every sentence. What does that even mean? A few more minutes pass by and a lady focused on her cell phone passes by. I don’t think I’m being followed anymore. Time for this trash-groundhog to go back down just to play it safe. I’m not going to risk trying to get to the church. I think I’m safe in here. Now it’s time to call Chuck.

  My pocket still has Chuck’s number in it, thank God. However, I don’t have one of those fancy cell phones. I never saw the purpose of having one. There aren’t enough buttons on them, and it’s just a screen. How does that work? I’ll stick with 12 buttons that I’m used to seeing on a standard house phone please. The need arises to get out of the trash. Up and over I go, though not as nimble as some of the movies would portray. My rendition is more of a leg drape, followed by a flop, and a splat on to the black bags that involuntarily catch me. Had I been as heavy as I use to be, I can easily see each bag bursting at the seams.

  A middle-aged man wearing khaki pants and a polo shirt, passes by the alley while talking on his phone. Good heavens! That thing is as big as a book! Is that a phone?! He doesn’t notice me at all. That’s just fine by me. Given the size of the device, there’s not much to notice outside of the all-encompassing task in his hand. Sitting on top of the bags provides a good place to sit while I spectate prospects with phones. The sun is starting to set, so I’m running out of
time for what I would call “decent” people to talk to and possibly approach. Shortly, an elderly man walks by with a little boy by the hand; assumptions would indicate that’s his grandson. They each have ice cream. Perfect.

  “Excuse me, sir?” I ask as I approach.

  He stops and slowly stands in front of his grandson. “Yes? Can I help you?”

  Taking the very obvious cautionary hint, I do not approach any closer. “Yes, I hope so. Firstly, I do not need any money. I was being chased by two men who want possibly kill me. May I use your phone to call my friend? I have his cell phone number right here.” I show the slip of paper with Chuck’s number on it.

  “Trying to kill you? What did you do?” he asks with concern and hesitation.

  “I have no idea, other than refuse to participate in services offered by a rather pushy female.” I say, trying to keep it very general and away from specifics.

  The man closes his eyes, and nods. He looks to the young boy, who is innocently eating his ice cream while watching people pass by. “It’s not a smart phone by any means, but one of the flip phones. Is that ok?”

  “Yes, it is. Thank you so much.” I say.

  “No problem.” He hands me his phone, and I flip it open. 12 buttons. Dialing the number, it takes only a few rings before Chuck answers.

  “Hello?” he says.

  “Chuck! It’s Elverson. Can you come get me please? I think I have found out enough information to bring justice to Jeffers. I’ll tell you all about it in the car.”

  “Sure, man. Where do you want me to meet you?”

  “Hang on one second.” Turning to the elderly man I ask, “What street is this one sir?”

  “35th avenue. Just off of Main street.” He says.

  “Chuck, I’m in an alley connected to 35th avenue just off of Main street.”

  “Ok. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hangs up, and I hand the phone back to the old man.