Open the Door

Chapter 1: Open the Door

 

 

 

 

There was a locked door at the hotel room that was occupied. Room 110. He rose in his skivvies to a dark, shaded room; the sun barely breaking through the blinds. Abbadon was his true name. He turned on the TV and the news station said it was August twenty-seventh, nineteen-eighty-five. He looked around, no sign of the brief company he’d had the night before. He tried to remember what he’d done. He was at the bar just down the street, gotten into a fight with three guys. He hit one square in the mouth which pummeled him back to the floor just beside a table. The second and third came at him and he kicked one in the upper-thigh and he buckled, and pulled out his Ruger forty-cal and pointed it at the one on the ground.

They froze when the most courageous female walked up between them and said, “That’s enough guys.” The one knocked out on the ground was still unconscious and Don was ready to put his gun away anyway. Putting it away as fast as he had drawn, the bartender lady moved them all to keep calm and end this fight of sorts at that moment. The result was the two of them trying to rouse the man down and skip out of there post-haste.

“I don’t know what to say. You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“Don’t mention it. Just please don’t start any more fights in my bar.”

“What’s your name madame?”

“It’s Alexandria.”

“Well Alexandria… when do you get off?”

“Me? Why at one a.m.”

“Would you like to accompany me home tonight.”

“I might just do that if you’re willing to wait around for closing.”

“I’ll be right here ordering drinks.” he said. “Good man.” she said with a wink and a smile. He was ready to leave right now. Hours passed; he was ready to call it quits until she wiped the counter one time and strode up to him and ran her hand up his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

That was uneventful compared to some of his previous nights. But he thought this lady would be the one this time. But she wasn’t, the one who would birth him a son. He stopped after she came and rolled over asleep. Now in the morning-time, he was ready to skip town and try again. Don reached down and grabbed his pants, put his shirt on and walked out into the rays of sunshine.

He got to his car, an 82’ Mustang and drove off up the road past the bar and on the way to the highway. Getting past the truck stop, he opened up and revved his v6 engine all the way to ninety miles an hour. He was going home for the time being and the first time in a long time. When he finally made it back to his own quaint little home town, he passed the drug store & the courthouse and kept on driving till he reached his former home. A white, southern-style, abode with light blue shutters and a black shingle roof, more so, there was a loneliness about the place since it’d have no occupants, or so he guessed, since it was his own.

He slid a license he had specifically for breaking in doors and entered, closing the door behind him. The basic furniture was still there, anything he would need was lying around, especially the beds in his bedroom, although he would have to furnish a sheet and pillows. He thought he knew where he could find those though. He moved down to the basement where he found a linen and a few dusty pillows and cases. He put them on the bed and took off down the road to the diner for breakfast.

He went in and found himself sitting at a booth alone. The place was deserted. When he looked up again he could barely believe what he saw. He saw his old flame from the last time he was in town. Which was going on six years ago now. “1979, what a time.” By now she must be around 26 and Don never looked more than thirty-one. “Hi Clara.” he said. She looked down from her order pad and a wave of shock ran over her face. “Don. It’s been so long.”

“Over five years as I recall. How’ve you been missy?”

“Just tryin’ to get by. That’s all.”

“It would seem you’re getting by just fine.” he said stealing a glance at her backside. She blushed and turned away then turned around and asked, “What’ll you have?”. He retorted, “How bout’ you with a side of to-go?”

“haha. Very funny.”

“I’ll have the sausage and grits with eggs and a side of gravy for my grits.”

“Comin’ right up.” she mumbled. He ate his food graciously and paid the tab. It was ten minutes before she came back out collected. “So, how do you do around here these days?”

“I’ve got a place on Old Creek Church that gets me through.” she said gruffly. “How about you come to my old place and we soirée?”

“You’re serious? I get off at eight.”

“Call it a date.” he said. Walking out, he didn’t know whether to wait or to run around and come back to pick her up. It was still daylight, he checked his watch and it said four thirty-three. Deciding to go and come back, he headed off for the town general store without looking back. He needed to get some supplies for the place he was squatting in. Some white rice, candles, a pack of menthols and a box of beer. Being immortal, it didn’t matter much if he smoked and drank, but mostly he liked the act of doing so.

As he made his way out, he looked up at the crickety old sign that said Gerald’s General and got back in the Stang’. On the way home, he decided to look into the realtor that was selling the house he was staying in. He or she could not know that he was, but if he was going to stay around here or not he wasn’t sure of. Clara would have to wait anyway, considering he hadn’t gotten any activity since the bartender, he also didn’t know if she was willing to sleep over in an abandoned house. He would choose not to tell her, he thought.

That was when a conspicuous looking car flew past and got his heart racing. He looked to the left and to the right. All clear. He rode out to the realty office at that moment. When he arrived it looked like an impeccable white house with tiny windows and one door. He was welcomes by an assistant at a walk-in office almost immediately. There wasn’t much time for introductions before he was introduced to Mae. A friendly realtor who had the prettiest smile and talked like a southern belle.

He needed more money and fast, before he knew it they were speaking about getting a loan from the bank. He did have a bank of course but that was neither here-nor-there. He said he had a particular house in mind, one that hadn’t been occupied for the last five years. She said it was cheap and run down, but there were other option that could suit his budget. He replied, “No, I want that house.” And she had to relent to his whim. She wrote up the price-tag and off they went to check out the house that he was already going to be in.

There, he worked his way into signing a contract stating he would lease the place for twelve months then decide if he was going to get a mortgage. He pressed her to let him pay the first six-months rent saying, “I’ll even give you the deposit.” But she told him he’d have to pay as he wet. That didn’t sit well with him, but, “The place is yours.” she said. He sat down on an upholstered chair and thought about how he’d made so many memories here. Like the time he’d thrown a rager for Clara’s college graduation and some guy threw up in a house plant. It made for some good times. He didn’t want to ruin this place by being eccentric with the décor, but he needed some more furnishings and stat.

Off to the supply and home improvement store first then to the furniture place. With that taken care of he only had to wait on the movers to get here with the furniture. He bought a couch and a table and a dresser for this belongings and garments. He was now checking the water in all the sinks and bathrooms and flipping the lights while he did so. Everything checked out just fine. He lay down on his old bed for a while and conversed with himself about how to treat Clara tonight. When they were together before, it had been ups and downs of staying together and keeping close. It didn’t take much to argue about her leaving if she felt the notion.

Just when things got heated, they’d have sex and everything would be alright. That was in the past now though, who knows if she would want to partake in that tonight. He got up and checked his watch. Seven O’clock, almost time. He would make sure he had everything before he left. Don was very meticulous about this; his wallet, his briefcase full of notes and now his paperwork for the house and his smokes. Everything seemed in order and he didn’t want to leave his briefcase lying around, so off he went. Speeding down the road, he stashed a cigarette in the door panel and drove off to the diner.

Once he got there, he saw an abundance of cars outside and took his time getting in out of the parking lot. It was getting rowdy inside and he was ready to pick up Clara and leave. He stepped in cautiously and put down some soda after sitting down at a table. Clara was hard at work and he smiled. Just then a customer pulled on her apron and she turned around and said, “Please don’t do that.”

“Can I get some more coffee, baby?”

“Yes, and I’m not your baby.” Don tried to ignore this, but he felt so helpless. Finally after her shift was over, they talking in the parking lot for some time. “So how’s the family business?” she asked. “I’m on my own now. I’m not working for father anymore.”

“I never understood why you called him that.”

“Because he’s nothing like a real dad.”

“Okay. Well where are they now?”

“I couldn’t tell you. Probably in hell.”

“You think he’s dead?” she asked. “That’s a big maybe.” he told her. “What have you been doing for money?”

“Borrowing it here and there.” he lied. “Okay, then shall we go?”

“Let’s.” he replied solemnly.