He's a Magic Man, Mama.
….
….
….
Dear "Mom" and "Dad"
I've gone.
Good riddance to getting away from you!
Your "daughter",
Helga.
That's H - E - L - G - A.
NOT Olga.
Bob stared at the note, trying to make sense of it.
Where the hell had his youngest daughter gone too?
"Miriam!" he roared.
Miriam, who was downstairs, aimlessly stirring a pot of stroganoff, looked at the ceiling at the sound of Bob's voice. Olga, who was setting the table, also looked up.
"Oh, dear," Olga said sweetly. "What's Helga done now?"
"I don't know, dear, but I'm sure we're going to find out," she muttered, going back to stirring.
Bob's footsteps feel loud and heavy, and he stormed into the room, scowling like neither had ever seen him scowl before.
"Call her friends," he snapped at Olga.
"What? Why?" she asked.
"Damn girl's taken off again," he said, slamming Helga's note on the table.
"To the jungle?" Miriam asked, stupidly. Bob closed his eyes and counted to ten. Sometimes . . .
"No, Miriam. Probably that no good, loser she's been hanging around with. What's his name? Garth?"
They both looked at him confused for a second, then Olga figured it out.
"Daryl?" she suggested.
"Whatever," he said. "What's the boys number? Where does he live?"
"I don't-" Olga started, but Bob left the room, stomping the whole way. When she caught up to him, he was on the phone already.
"I wanna talk to Helga's little friend . . . Penny?" he said. "Yeah, Phoebe, whatever. I need to talk to her now . . . What do you mean, not like I am!? Who are you to tell me who I can and cant talk too!?"
Olga stepped forward and took the phone off her father, who was red in the face. Man, Helga was really in for it when she got home!
"Hello?" she said into the phone, sweetly.
"Hello, Olga?" Mrs' Hyerdels voice asked.
"Yes, I'm sorry about Daddy," she said, first off. "It's just Helgas run away, and we think she might be with a boy. We were wondering if Phoebe maybe knew where he lived? Or a number for him?"
"I'll just get her," she said. A couple of minutes later, Phoebe answered.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Phoebe, it's Olga," she said.
"Oh, hello," Phoebe said cheerfully. "What can I do for you?"
"This Daryl guy, you don't happen to know where he lives do you?" Olga asked.
"No . . . why?" she asked.
"Oh, uh, Helga's taken off, and we think she may be with him," Olga told her.
"I'll call Lila and ask her," Phoebe offered.
"Oh, no, that's okay, I can call Lila myself, thankyou Phoebe."
"Okay. I'll text Helga and see if she answers," Phoebe said, then hung up.
Olga called Lila, but she had no answers for her either.
It was nine at night when they finally got a call from the police. Helga and her "boyfriend", Daryl, had been picked up a few hours ago. They were at the station. Bring a lawyer.
Bob was in an absolute rage as he stormed from the house, slammed the door to the car, beeping the horn at Olga and Miriam to hurry up. He drove there in a bad mood, swearing at every "stupid driver" he came across. When they got there, Miriam suggested that he try to calm himself down, while she and Olga went in. Olga had called the lawyer on the way there, and he was there to meet them.
"What's happened?" Miriam asked. "Is Helga okay?"
The lawyer frowned.
"No. she's in a little bit of trouble," he said. "Apparently, her boyfriend robbed a conveniance store. He shot and killed a man. Your daughter claims she knew nothing about it, until the police stopped them. And her boyfriend backs up her claim. But, it's convincing the police."
He saw Bob striding toward them, face of thunder, and gulped, 'Poor girl,' he thought. 'She's gonna wish she was staying in here tonight.'
"Whats the girl done now?" he demanded, looking at the shocked silent faces of his older daughter and wife.
"Her boyfriend has been arrested for armed robbery and murder," he said.
Bob didn't know what to say . . .
…...
Helga was led out of the interview room, and saw her parents and sister standing there, waiting for her. When she looked to the left she saw Daryl being led to the cells in cuffs.
"How could you kill someone?" she called out to him.
"I'm sorry," he mouthed, then looked away.
Helga could feel her heart break.
Just six hours ago everything was wonderful. Daryl had shown up at her window asking her to run away with him. She didn't need to be asked twice. She'd grabbed her savings - which had been confiscated now - and some clothes and gone with him on his motorbike.
She had her first time with him. They'd stopped to eat, then he kissed her. Next thing she knew they were having sex on his bike. It wasn't the most comfortable, but it would definitely be memorable.
It was funny in a way. She had always thought it would be with her first love, Arnold.
But Daryl had this . . . Overwhelming, alluring, seductiveness to her that she couldn't resist, for lack of better explaining. The song 'Magic Man', reminded her of him, and that was the first song she thought of, watching him be led away. He was fire, and she enjoyed playing with it. But she never expected that fire to explode the way it did.
Though she should have. All the signs were there. And she'd turned a blind eye to every one of them.
She swore then, that the only man she would ever be with was Arnold. And if not him, then she would be happy to be alone.
Maybe she'd get some cats.