Concerning A Murder

Chapter Three: Breakfast and Laughter

The morning came quickly and Mort woke to the sun shining on his face. He sat up slowly, picking up his watch from the table in his old style. He looked around him a moment and began to clear his mind.

"Okay… Let a strange kid into the house. Bandaged some wounds. Slept on couch coz kid's on the bed." Mort closed his eyes and let out a breath of air. A sound near the back of the couch startled him suddenly.

"Sorry," came a weak, and slightly embarrassed voice. "I just woke up. I'm really hungry, but I didn't want to wake you. Good thing you woke up when you did. I almost thought of raiding your fridge… then you'd have nothing in the house."

Mort turned to see Alex standing behind the couch, chuckling lightly. Alex smiled and motioned to the kitchen.

"I hate to try and seem rude… But I'm pretty hungry."

Mort's eyes widened and he stood up. "Oh… oh yeah… Food." He wandered to the kitchen unsteadily. "I forgot that there's someone else here. Like I said last night, if you're hungry, just say so. In fact, you can raid the fridge. Just, if we run out of something, tell me. Coz that means you and I gotta take a little trip into New London."

"Why so far?"

Mort turned and stared at the boy. "What?"

"I asked… why so far? There's a town real near here. Why can't we shop there?"

"Reasons." Mort turned and began pulling things out of the fridge for an eggs and bacon breakfast, even though his watch had said that it was one thirty in the afternoon. He began to cook almost instantly, pushing the corn off the counter in disgust. He picked up the large pot and left the room. Alex followed, an inquisitive look on his face.

Mort stepped outside, to the garbage bin where he'd found Chico attached and dumped the pot without even looking where it hit. He rushed back inside, leaving the corn and the pot lying on the ground.

"How do you like your eggs, Alex?" Mort asked the question without even checking to see if the boy was back in the house. As it was, Alex remained outside, staring down at the corn and pot. "Alex?"

Alex came back around the corner and into the house, staring now at Mort. "Over-easy, please…" His eyes swept over the house for the first time and he sat comfortably down at the dining table. "Do you want me to set the table?"

Mort turned, slight shock on his face. "Well… if you want, sure. Two places, plates, silverware and cups… Umm, the silverware's in this drawer next to me and the plates and cups are in that cupboard over the sink."

Alex nodded and set straight away to setting the table. Within a half hour, the boys were seated at the table, sharing a quiet meal of eggs, bacon, and Mort's own French Toast.

"So, you live here alone?" Alex took another questioning glance around the room.

Mort lifted his eyes level with Alex's. "Yeah. My wife left me a long time ago… Then, she died. So, I've lived here alone since she and I split up."

"Oh, that's got to be a sad story to remember. I'm sorry about that." Alex put his face directly over his dish.

"No, it's okay." Mort chuckled lightly. "Its fine. You're curious, I'll tell you almost anything. Later…" Mort stood and set his plate in the sink to soak. "I've got to get working on the new story. Editor will have a fit if it's not in soon."

Alex turned and watched Mort go up the stairs. "You write?"

"Yeah," Mort called down from his alcove. "I've been writing for awhile. My profession, you know."

Alex nodded and placed his plate with Mort's in the sink. "What are you working on now?"

"A murder mystery. Just some weird little thing about a guy getting accused of killing his own father and then accused of trying to kill someone else. The whole thing's pretty twisted."

Alex stopped halfway up the stairs, staring straight up to where, he thought, Mort sat.

He doesn't know, Alex. You're getting worked up. It's a simple coincidence. Don't take it to heart.

Alex finished the climb and stood near Mort, reading over his shoulder. "Looks good so far," he said after reading for a moment.

"Well, I'm working on it." Mort turned in his chair and smiled at Alex. "Still a work in progress of course." He looked back at his computer and chuckled. "Oh, I've got to make sure to ask you not to touch the computer. Of all the things in this house, that's the one thing I can't stand other people to touch. Almost killed my wife one time she did…" He chuckled a moment more, then fell silent, an eerie grin on his face that faded quickly to a hurt look. "Anyway…" His voice caught in his throat. "I was… umm, just finishing a few paragraphs here… Then, I was gonna go out, for a walk. If you want to join me, you may, or you may stay here and make yourself comfortable."

"I'll stay, thanks." Alex smiled back at Mort, and turned to go downstairs. He sat warily on the couch, looking about the room. His eyes fell on the fire a minute, then moved on. He discovered the fire-poker nearby, then the weights in the corner. His eyes finally came to rest on a very tarnished bit of the far wall. All he could see were the remains of letters. He squinted a bit and stared, trying to read what might have been there.

Shoo… Shoot… Shooter? Shooter? What's that mean? What's he written that for? He did say I could ask him about anything and he'd most likely explain.

"Hey, Mort?" Alex hollered up to the alcove. "I changed my mind. I think I will join you on this walk after all…"

TBC

A streak of morbid curiosity of course. What Alex gets from this question, this totally innocent question that he will ask on the walk… that's another story altogether…

Read, review… and so on and so forth. Check out my other fics. I will hopefully have a new chapter up for Visions of Friendship very soon, but everything's gonna be weird awhile. School's back in session. Ick.

Final word: "Everything in this room is eatable. In fact, I'm eatable. But that, my dear children, is called cannibalism which is in fact frowned upon in most societies." Had to, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory ruled.