Change the Locks
Chapter Thirteen
Abby's giggly reaction to the movie was music to Owen's ears as he admired her from his seat; she was completely unaware of the fact that he was observing her every movement. He was glad she was enjoying the movie, at least. His mind wheeled back:
Abby turned to Owen, who was playing Pac Man on the arcade machine at the kiosk in Los Alamos; he was completely unaware of the fact that she was observing his every movement.
Owen blinked away the vision. Abby was still watching the screen, intently following the plotline. He smiled.
"That was great, Owen. I've never seen a movie before, how many of them are there?" Abby asked, gripping his arm and leaning her head on his shoulder, smiling. Owen chuckled; he found it hard to believe she'd never seen a movie before.
"Hundreds. Surely you don't expect me to name every single one? I only know a few, and I've seen even less." He explained. Abby was confused. She lifted her head from his shoulder, looking into his eyes, wearing an anxious expression.
"How come? If there's so many of them, why have you seen so few?" She asked, loosening her grip of his arm. Owen stopped walking.
"My me and my mom.. well, we're poor. We were poor. We couldn't afford to keep going to the movie theatre on a regular basis. But I'm not going back to her; I want to be with you, stay with you." He smiled, leaning forward, taking her hand and kissing her cheek tenderly. She smiled, his lips warming her cheek. She nodded, understanding.
Suddenly, Owen lost grip of Abby's hand as she ran to a television screen in the cinema's foyer. A news report concerning Owen's disappearance. Owen's ears pricked up, and he ran to join Abby in front of the television.
"The missing teenager, Owen McAlister, from the New Mexico county of Los Alamos has been declared dead this morning. After following a dead-ended lead for just over a month, no new evidence has emerged. The police have nothing more to go by, and therefore must end their investigation. However, this matter is not over for the grieving McAlister family. Kyle Fernen is at Owen's former school where students are paying their respects.." The news presenter's voice trailed off as Owen grinned. Abby turned to him, her facial expression mirroring his.
"So, I'm dead." He said, sarcastically. Abby giggled, nodding.
"Yep! This is fantastic – if America thinks you're dead, then America won't be looking for you. Meaning.." She gestured to him, allowing him to finish her sentence.
"Meaning I'm safe!" He grinned, lunging towards Abby. He caught her lips in his, holding her close as she gripped the hair on the back of his head. Her lips curled upwards into a smile as they kissed.
Owen munched on the remains of his popcorn whilst Abby was out, harvesting blood from her latest victim. He'd gotten used to the idea now; he was more acceptant of Abby's murderous ways. As he sat in front of the television with his popcorn bag (which was now empty) he peered at the phone, contemplating calling for room service. After all, a handful of mushy popcorn, crystallised with sugar granules, wasn't going to satisfy his hunger. Unlike Abby, he hadn't had a proper meal for three days. Just titbits.
"Hello, room service?" A young man's voice greeted Owen from the other end of the phone.
"Hey, I know it's pretty late, but what's on the menu for room service tonight?" Owen asked politely.
"Room service is available all hours, sir. For future reference." The room service operator continued to read out a list of meals, drinks and desserts. Owen's eyes lit up at the thought of each meal, how exquisitely prepared they would all be at a place such as this.
"Hm." He juggled the options, "would it be possible to order red mullet fillet, spinach and mushroom gratin, with a side of foie-gras, white chocolate crème brûlée, a zillionaire's sundae and a can of coke?" Owen asked, ending his order with a rather simple item.
"Okay. Is that all, sir?" The room service operator asked, almost sarcastically.
"Yes, thank you. I'll have the money at hand when you arrive with the food." Owen explained whilst retrieving several twenty dollar notes from his suitcase, holding the phone in the other hand, suspecting the order would be an expensive one.
"Okay, sir, thank you for ordering. Your order will be with you in just under fifteen minutes. I shall confirm that this order is for the Emperor's Suite?" The operator asked his final question.
"Yes, it is." Owen responded.
"Thank you. Goodbye." The operator put the phone down, leaving the line to ring in Owen's ear. He also put the phone back on the receiver before sitting in front of the television, just missing the end of an old Harper Valley PTA episode. Oh well. Hawaii Five-O was coming up soon.
A shuffling sound from the bedroom rattled Owen's ears. He wasn't worried. He assumed Abby was swinging her blood-drenched body onto the balcony.
"Owen?" He heard her voice call from the bedroom. He smiled, satisfied with his 'amazing' sense of intuition. He called to her, letting her know he was well. Owen listened to the shower door crack open, heard the water supply whir as the warm liquid sprayed over Abby's bloodied body. The familiar theme song of Hawaii Five-O spun into his ears, but he couldn't drag his eyes away from the bedroom door; and Abby. The doorbell rang, forcing him to rip his eyes from the bedroom door and stand up to answer it. Room service. Owen flipped the twenty dollar notes around in his hands as a butler wheeled a brass trolley, adorned with fancy-looking platefuls of food, into the room. The butler carefully carried several silver trays, which held Owen's numerous dishes, and lay them on the large coffee table. Finally, he retrieved a can of Coca-Cola from the wine cooler and poured half of the can into an ice-filled wine glass. Owen handed over the money, grinning, before watching the butler wheel the trolley out of the room. He would leave the silver trays and the handmade plates to be collected by the maids the next morning.
Owen cut a thin slice of foie-gras and placed it in his mouth. The creamy texture melt in his mouth, before beefy, metallic taste slashed his tongue. He spat out the mushy mouthful of liver, wincing as he did so. Yack. Owen took a sip of his coke, swishing it around his mouth; anything to remove the metallic taste of the buttery foie-gras. He pushed the plate aside, and moved onto the fish, spinach and mushrooms. Smaller than he expected, but just as rich. The flaky fish warmed his taste buds, however, it was surprisingly light. The spinach also shared the same metallic taste as the foie-gras, so Owen could only down a few mouthfuls. The mushroom, despite having a rich and creamy texture, was so unbelievably filling that, again, Owen could only manage a few forkfuls. Eventually he moved onto the zillionaire's sundae – honeycomb, chocolate, vanilla and coffee flavoured ice cream, drenched in espresso and amaretto, crumbled with honeycomb, chocolate and biscuit, complete with lashings of cream, beautiful golden leaves and a sparkling firework. It surely looked grand as hell. And, after his first spoonful, Owen realised it tasted pretty grand too. He scraped the bottom of the bowl, drinking the melted ice cream from the bottom of the glass, before moving onto his final dish – crème brûlée. He cracked the sugary lid open and crunched on the glass-like topping before delving into the chocolatey, creamy and perfectly delectable filling. Certainly his favourite dish of all time.
After finished his final mouthful of crème brûlée, Owen leant back on the couch. He was completely bloated, his mouth stained with various sauces and creams, surrounded by empty plates. This called for a large belch – which is just what Owen supplied. He used his feet to kick the empty plates aside, leaving his line of sight between him and the television clear.
"Owen." Abby said bluntly, monotone, as she stood outside the bedroom door, wearing only her underwear. Owen jumped as she spoke, turning to see a half-naked girl, causing him to become even more shocked. He covered his eyes immediately, thinking Abby would laugh. She didn't. He removed his hand from his eyes and listened to her, realising the situation was serious.
"Owen. We have a problem."