Hello, you wonderful person. I am very sorry for that horrendous gap in non-postage, but I'm sure you know how it goes in winter semester of college. Everything happens at once. And still is. But it's Easter break (happy Easter!) and guess who has a few empty days!
I had a lot of encouraging, helpful, and fun reviews before this chapter! Thank you guys! I may not have continued were it not for those. You know how it goes – you get busy and forget, some of your motivation starts leaking away. Those reviews helped me keep my motivation, thank you!
Sadly, this chapter is really no fun. It's a lot lighter than all the other ones. I just really needed this part of the story to do something. I needed a breath of fresh air, if you will. Ben's cell was starting to smell.
Ben
You hear people say that time is a funny thing all the time. And then you hear people say that it's funny that so many people say that, and then they go on to say, no really, folks, it's true. This one time I was doing something and something happened and I thought about time. See?
Time is a funny thing.
The next time you're stuck in a dark cell with no perception of time passing, think about it. I'd heard the argument that time is a human construction. I find that hard to believe. I mean, sure. The way we label the hours, minutes, seconds, days, months, and years is kind of ridiculous, I guess. But the way we live demands it, however constructed it is. But, time. Moments passing. Is that real? Yes. I'm doing something now that I wasn't doing a moment ago. Time is real.
Time is, in essence, something you think about when you're bored. That must be it.
I had no idea how long I'd been in there, and that was kind of fun. The mystery of not knowing a length of time is so disconcerting. It throws your whole perception off kilter. I'd been sleeping a bit and that made it even weirder. Man, this is not how I wanted to spend my time. What a waste of this part of my life.
Noise! What was that? Some sort of rumpus was being had on the other side of this wall! Lots of angry voices were raised, what was going on? Curse these thick walls. I pressed my ears to them, which just rendered things fuzzier and kind of echoey.
BANGBANGBANG.
I flew from the wall, clutching at my ear. What? Was someone yelling at me? I couldn't hear.
"WHAT?" I yelled.
"SIR?"
"WHAT!" Why were they calling me sir and yelling at me? My heart leapt! Could it be we were being rescued? Could this be the police? Could that even happen, had fortune not abandoned us?
"STEP AWAY FROM THE DOOR, SIR!" I stepped away from the door, a bit dazed. Poundings were taking place but the door would not give. There was a momentary eerie silence and my hopes started sinking to my shoes. Where had they gone?
And then, almost comically, the door fell in. It didn't crash, it didn't shatter with a dramatic whuff of dust and dead bugs. It simply fell in, clanged once, rather hollowly. Sure enough, police stood on the other side of the door, one armed with what looked suspiciously like a welder. I dismissed the obvious safety hazards of using such a device in an area like this. They were police. I smiled, sighed, slouched, slunk to the door. They stared at me, bewildered.
"Sir, are you alright?"
"Yes, yes I'm fine."
"What did they want from you?"
"Well…" I stopped myself from plunging into what was going on. They couldn't know. I stalled, staring around for my captors. There they were, handcuffed to the light post outside.
"We just… checked in here, we thought it was a motel. And they locked us up. That was it, we haven't known what was going on or anything."
"We? Are there more of you?"
"Well yes, that room, right there…" At first I was shocked they hadn't rescued the Blackwells yet, then I was shocked that the door was open. Upon peering inside it became apparent that the Blackwells had quite mysteriously disappeared.
"Um… There were people in here?" Was I asking a question?
"Sir, we haven't seen anyone."
"But… where…" I stared around. No way to escape, there were no windows or doors. It was much like my own cell. I backed out of the room and stared at the men handcuffed outside. What was going on?
"Sir, we're going to have to take you back to the station and ask you some questions. Do you mind coming with us?" Going to the police station was about the last thing I wanted to do at the moment. So many complications could arise from it. I needed to somehow slyly slip from their grasp. Probably not the easiest thing to do, nor the smartest. The situation was bad enough already, I didn't need the police on my case.
"May I make a call first?"
"To who?
"My friend. I'm sure he's been worried sick, I was supposed to visit him yesterday."
"Ok, sir. Do you have a cell phone?"
"I had one, I have a feeling those nincompoops stole it or something. It's one of those high-tech expensive ones." I turned around, looking for it. It had to be here somewhere.
"Maybe one of them has it," I suggested, pointing to the men outside. One of the officers obligingly strode outside and searched them for cell phones. This disappointed me a bit. They should have been searched already. And why was he so sure I was telling the truth about it being my cell phone? Why was he so comfortable leaving me with the other officer, who was kind of pathetically scrawny?
Man, I was just so used to being paranoid. Ben, you're the victim here. I told myself to relax. And, what fortune, the officer had found the cell phone. The man hadn't even put up a fight. The other officer walked back in, handed me the phone. Now what? They expected me to call someone. I had to call someone now. I could just dial a bogus number and pretend no-one was home. No, no, I needed to distract them. The point of this was to escape. I stared at the phone as it turned on.
Heh heh, no reception. Of course.
"I'm not getting any reception here… Mind if I step outside?" They nodded, totally unsuspecting. I high-fived myself in my head, which is something I'd admit I do to absolutely no-one, and pushed open the door. The sun was setting, but due to a pretty miserable sheet of stratus clouds none of the fantastic sunset show could be seen down here from the perspective of us humans. I tried not to catch the eye of any of the handcuffed men, and headed leisurely down the opposite direction. Thank heavens they were keeping quiet. Probably knew they couldn't say anything. Of course, they were probably planning an elaborate escape as well. I glanced into the faux motel. Couldn't believe it – the police were talking to each other. They weren't even keeping an eyeball on me. I stole a look at the light-post men. They were sure keeping an eye on me. I guessed if I ran they'd yell. They knew what I was up to. Well, that was fine, as long as I could still escape. Which would have to be pretty quick now. Convenient alleyway to my right.
I didn't take it. That would be the first place to look. I really wanted to climb swiftly up one of these brick walls and run around on the rooftops, but I couldn't make it up fast enough. A sidewalk stairway led down under the buildings, but heaven knew what lie down there, or if the doorway was even open.
Wait. Seriously, did I really stand in front of a candy shop? I did. I stood in front of 'Treat Me Sweet'. How corny. Quite literally. Most of the contents of that shop was corn syrup, no doubt. But outside of the shop, right there, that was what I wanted. I looked through the windows for a moment. There was the kid. Striped blue shirt, yellow shorts, red baseball cap. Buying a giant swirly lollipop. How very sickeningly typical.
I stole his bike.
Yes, I was going to ride away on a stolen bike and escape the police. I felt like Mr. Bean as I took a running start and swung my leg over the seat. Grateful that this wasn't one of those bikes owned by a kid who thinks tiny bikes look cool, I pedaled. Already there was yelling behind me and I knew I had just seconds before a police car started after me. I needed to round a few corners, end up somewhere confusing, ditch the bike somewhere inconspicuous, and wedge myself into a corner for a few.
More yelling behind me. I turned right on the next block. Pedaled harder. Cursed my lack of gastronemius stamina, my legs were already burning. Where to turn? Dark alley? Parking ramp? Passed them both up in favor of an upcoming park, one of the dumber things I've ever done. After the park there was no more development to hide in. I pulled over and swung off, wondering where the heck I was supposed to put the thing. So much for finding somewhere confusing and ditching the bike somewhere inconspicuous. I leaned it against an orange brick building.
There seemed to be some kind of festival taking place here in the park. Several small vendors were selling racks of clothing, piles of what were probably handmade soy candles, some wooden crafts. Not much of a crowd here, but it would have to work. I heard sirens start up far in the distance. Was I wearing an undershirt? Why yes, I was. Thank the gods of planning. I pulled off the shirt I had been wearing and tossed it in a nearby garbage can, immediately regretting my action as chill air started nibbling my arms. Oh well. Maybe they wouldn't recognize me now.
I did have my wallet in my back pocket... the thought flew through my mind as I stared at a hat rack. They were all tie-dye, and it was part of a tie-dye booth. I hated tie-dye. It reminded me of little girls and hippies. I strode purposefully towards the floppy, wide-brimmed hats. Sirens hadn't rounded the bend yet but they would soon.
I spent about ten seconds acting like I was trying to make an intelligent and thoughtful decision on what color of repulsion I desired to wear on my head. My hand picked one out for me and I carried it to the man and the register for the booth. He smiled. He was young and was also decked out in tie-dye. Emulating an overpowering smell of badness. Probably a hippie.
"Nice choice." I'll bet he said that to everybody.
"That'll be eighteen." I already had a twenty in my hand. I shoved it at him. The sirens had rounded the bend, it sounded like.
"Keep the change, these are nice products. Have a good day!" I waved, then jammed the hat onto my head. Took a few steps away. People were starting to turn around at the sound of the sirens, probably the most exciting thing to happen all month. It would look funny if I decided to run away instead of stop and stare like a cow. I had to force myself to stop, face the noise. Hoping my now white-clothed torso and entirely inconspicuous tie-dye floppy hat was enough of a camouflage, I lifted my eyes to the street.
There they were.
And there they went.
One turned down the ally, one headed up the parking ramp.
I smiled, scoffed at myself. What the heck was this? Suddenly a chum bucket of good fortune had been dumped onto my head. I had escaped. So far. Keep moving, Ben. Where to go?
The golden arches sprung into my conscience. Oh, this was pathetic. Hiding in McDonald's. Well… it would work, right? They wouldn't look in McDonald's. I crossed the street, surprised that my hat wasn't drawing stares. I glanced behind me. No cop cars coming out yet. Maybe they would get lost back there. Into Micky-D's.
Wow, what a smell. I hadn't been in one of these in years. Frying patties of corn pretending to be fat pretending to be meat. Disinfectant, floor-cleaner, (Watch Your Step Wet Floor), giant tubs of salty French-fries. I'll bet the French didn't eat French-fries. I got into line, staring blankly at the menu items posted above the registers. It didn't occur to me to actually find something to order until there were two people left in front of me. I realized I had been staring at the Double-Quarter-Pounder with cheese. I averted my eyes. When it came to be my turn to order I asked for a 'Filet-o-Fish', much more fun than it sounded.
I sat and ate my fish fillet for the next half hour, eyes and ears pricked to any wickedness that could quite possibly this way come. None came but I still got to suffer the indigestion of eating while in the middle of a mild panic attack. Feeling privileged, I exited the building with a definite sick feeling in my stomach, reflecting on how surprisingly not-bad the fish had really been and how unfortunate it was to spoil the rarity with nerves.
I was now expecting to be pounced upon by some recently escaped men bearing plaid shirts, and some scrawny and befuddled policemen. I noticed, as I made my way across the parking lot to a random brownish building, that it was very hard to walk normally if you're trying to walk normally. Try it sometime when you're in an emergency requiring you to walk normally.
I had no idea where I was going, but as I got closer to the building, I realized it was an auto insurance center. Not a bad place to take a sit and stare at this phone, wonder where the Blackwells were, figure out what to do. It was probably air-conditioned, which was definitely not what I wanted. Minor factor. It was even open, which was rather special for this late at night. I didn't even know what day it was. Apparently it wasn't Sunday.
Sure enough, I entered and was welcomed by a blast of cold air. No-one was behind the desk so I took a seat in one of the classy green non-swivel office chairs lining the wall. Removed the cell from my pocket and flipped it open. The first thing I saw in the screen was my reflection.
I ripped my hat off and stared at it.
What had I been thinking? In retrospect, sure, I needed a hat. But man, could my hand have had any worse taste? What kind of color combo were red, yellow, and green? It wasn't even tie-dye, it was just blended stripes. And it had dancing bears circling the head. Colorful ones. If a hat were ever to be on a psychedelic trip, this would be the one. I sighed. Twenty bucks for a hat on crack.
Hey, not a depressing ending! Not depressing in the usual sense, at least. I'll be getting back to the Chinese Man and Riley and all that fun in the next chapter. Ben was begging for some attention and I felt bad for not posting.