Chapter Three

Meeting Mort

They all stepped out of the car, and, leading the group, Emily marched up onto the porch and knocked on the door. She wasn't sure how late it was, or if whoever lived here would even be awake. If anyone even lived here. The house was rather dark and ominous…and kind of creepy. So, it simply made since that someone had to live there. Or at least, it made since to Emily.

The door opened, and Emily gasped. A tall man wearing a tattered old bathrobe with messy blonde hair stood in the door frame, rubbing his eyes with one hand and holding a pair of glasses in the other. Actually, he's extrodinarily handsome, thought Emily, stroking her chin absently, wondering how idiotic she looked.

Brittany glanced over at Emily. Gosh, she looks like an idiot, stroking her chin like that, she thought. Wonder what she's thinking about? Do I even want to know? Probably not.

"Can I help you?" said the man groggily, putting on his glasses.

"Oh…yes," said Emily, no longer rubbing her chin. "Terribly sorry to bother you, sir. We just flew—I mean, drove here…and…I guess took a wrong turn…we are in Tashmore Lake, right?"

"Yeah…" mumbled the man. "Why don't you just…come in or something?"

Without even a backwards glance, Emily strode into the house like she owned it. Brittany stared apprehensively at Jeremy and David, but followed her friend, as did Jeremy and David. The man shut the door behind them.

"Thanks," said Emily. "What did you say your name was?"

"Uh…Mort Rainey," he replied as he walked over to a couch and sat down. "Make yourselves at home…who are you again?"

Emily laughed. "I'm Emily…that's Brittany, that's David, and that tall guy there," she said, pointing at Jeremy, "Is Jeremy…poor fellow, castrated, he is."

Mort's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "Owch…what happened?"

"Long story…" said Emily, her voice trailing. "Say, do you have a bathroom?"

Brittany nudged Emily. Of course he has a bathroom, she thought. Who doesn't have a freakin' bathroom?

Mort smiled. "Yeah, upstairs, first door to the right…there's not a mirror in there," he added. "Apparently it was mounted incorrectly and suddenly fell off the wall one day, completely shattering it."

"It's okay…thanks, Mr. Rainey," said Emily, walking up the stairs. She looked for the door, but found she could not find it. "Maybe this is like Harry Potter," she said out loud to herself. "Like…the Room of Requirement." So, she clasped her hands behind her back and paced back and forth, focusing on how badly she needed to pee.

--Back downstairs…--

"So…you guys aren't from around here, are you?" inquired Mort.

"No, we're from Barboursville, in West Virginia," said Brittany. Jeremy and David really have a way with words, she thought.

"Never heard of it. Why did you come here, anyway?"

"Corn on the cob." She even felt stupid saying it. She tried not to imagine how retarded it sounded.

Apparently, Mort had not thought it sounded retarded. "Oh really? I have a ton of corn on the cob…if you wanted to take it off my hands…" He grinned, exposing pearly white teeth. He has braces? thought Brittany. His teeth look fine to me…but they look really good on him…

Brittany laughed. "Absolutely, if you wouldn't mind to part with it. My friend had a…corn craving."

"Completely understandable," said Mort, shrugging.

--Back upstairs—

Suddenly, to Emily's utter amazement, a door appeared in the wall. "A secret door!" she exclaimed, wrenching it open. She took a sharp intake of breath.

Inside the room was the most beautiful bathroom she had ever laid eyes upon. Marble floors, marble bath tub, marble sink, even a freakin' marble toilet.

"Holy bugger…" whispered Emily, as she entered the room, her eyes scanning the room. When her eyes fell upon the toilet, she remembered exactly how much she had to pee. So…she peed. In the toilet, that is.

--Back downstairs—

Mort handed Brittany a large sack filled with ears of corn. "Thanks, Mr. Rainey…I'll just carry this out to the car."

"Here, let me help," said Mort, taking the sack and walking out the door. Brittany followed him out to the car.

Something in her bones told her that she shouldn't be outside alone in the dark with this man…Mort Rainey…but she waved the feeling aside as she opened the trunk of the hijacked car.

Mort dropped the sack in the trunk. "Once again, thank you, Mr. Rainey," said Brittany.

"Please, call me Mort," he said, smiling.

"Okay…" said Brittany awkwardly, turning around, making to go back inside the house. Roughly, Mort grabbed her shoulder, whipping her around. She gasped as she faced him. He was not smiling anymore…

"I don't think you're goin' anywhere, missy," he said with a strong southern accent. Brittany wrinkled her nose in confusion. Then, she kicked him in the balls and ran back inside the house to warn the others.