“Ten containers of mustard.”
“Check,” says Ariel, as she writes out the numbers onto her clipboard and Tim continues.
“Seventeen ketchup.”
Ariel is suddenly distracted by Caroll’s arrival, but Tim continues to read off to Ariel.
“Eight relish.”
Ariel, she sees Caroll reach behind a container of pepper for two carefully hidden nearly empty bottles of ketchup.
“Oh, you are so bad,” says a laughing Ariel.
Now Tim’s attention shifts. Once he sees Caroll holding the two bottles of ketchup, he joins in with Ariel’s laughing and nearly loses his balance, but quickly regains it.
“Who’s the sucker?” asks Tim.
“Those two right there,” says Caroll, pointing to the twins. “I’ve been hoping to get back at them for all the years of pranks they’ve pulled at my expense. I’m sure they’ll ask for some ketchup with their fries.”
“Good for you,” says Ariel.
As Caroll looks at the timer on the fries’ reading fifty-one seconds left, he has second thoughts and walks back to return the ketchup.
“What are you doing?” asks Tim.
“I’m not so sure, guys,” says Caroll.
“Damn toe-dipper!”
Ariel shakes her head in approval of what Tim called Caroll.
“A toe-what?” asks Caroll.
“He called you a toe-dipper and I agree with him,” says Ariel.
“What the hell is a toe-dipper?”
“You have some people that will walk up to a pool or hot tub, stick their big toe into it to check the temperature of the water, and still can’t decide to get in or not,” says Ariel.” They may dip a toe a few times before deciding to get in or not. It’s a metaphor: don’t procrastinate.”
“Either have some balls, or walk away with your tail between your legs,” says Tim.
“Hey, you did say that for years those two harassed you?” says Ariel.
The buzzer for the fries sounds and Caroll walks over to pull them out of the grease. He looks over at Ariel and Tim who return him a look of Well? He then looks out at the twins who are talking to two girls walking past them. Caroll nods his head yes.
Ariel and Tim simultaneously say, “Yes!”
They share a three-way fist dap. He grabs the two ketchup bottles and places each one in his two back pockets. He shakes the excess grease off the fries and spills them into two containers on a tray.
Caroll takes a few deep breaths to suppress his need to giggle before returning to the front counter.
“Here you go, fellows, fresh fries. Be careful, they’re hot. Enjoy,” says Caroll.
“How much do we owe?” asks Angel.
“It’s on the house; the manager stepped out. I got you today.”
Caroll figures that if the twins get really pissed and want to tell his boss what’s about to happen, they couldn’t prove anything without a receipt. However, he doubts these cross-the-line pranksters would have the nerve to actually snitch when they get a taste of their own medicine.
“Wow, good looking out, C-Rod,” says Jesus.
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey, do you have any tartar sauce?” asks Angel.
“Tartar sauce? Eww, on fries? You guys are gross.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it, Caroll,” says Jesus.
“No, we don’t, sorry. We don’t serve fish.”
“How about rice and beans?” asks Jesus.
“Man, this is a burger restaurant. Who would eat that with a burgers and fries?” Caroll asks.
“You’re tripping, rice and beans goes with any meal imaginable,” says Jesus.
“Yuck!”
“Whatever, can we get some ketchup?” asks Angel.
“Sure, here you go, guys. Later.”
The twins head to a nearby open table. Caroll goes to the back of the restaurant with his co-workers, who are already in position for the show, to watch them.
Simultaneously, the twins squirt the ketchup onto the fries.
BAM!
The twins, table, and their clothes are soaked with ketchup. The entire food court bursts out laughing.
Caroll learned this simple prank from Ariel and Tim, a welcome-to-the-job prank. They showed him that if you have about a quarter inch of ketchup left in a bottle, add one tablespoon of baking soda, and it will explode the next time it’s opened. The three of them keep a few carefully hidden sabotaged ketchup bottles for a rainy day. Unfortunately for the twins, it’s raining on this clear sky Saturday evening.
The twins are used to delivering the pranks, not having one pulled on them, and at first, they’re pissed. They both give an angry look in the direction of a laughing Caroll. He gives them a salute like a soldier would give his superior officer. Then the twins actually begin to laugh themselves.
“You got to respect it,” says Jesus.
“Right, now we got to find out how he did it,” says Angel.
The twins walk out of the mall with soaked and stained clothing, but still eat their heavy ketchup French fries on the way out. The fries were hot and delicious, they weren’t about to allow a prank to spoil their appetite. Most of all, their fries were free.
They meet up with Brandon and Dominic by Brandon’s parents’ car.
“What happened?” asks Dominic.
“Caroll got us,” says Angel.
Brandon and Dominic look at each other, then burst into laughter.
“Good for him. Remind me to congratulate him the next time I see him,” says Brandon.
“Yeah, whatever,” says Jesus.
Angel opens up the door.
“Hold up, Junior, y’all need to take those clothes off first. Y’all aren’t messing up my rents’ seats with that mess,” says Brandon.
“C’mon, bro,” says Angel.
“Strip to your underwear and throw your clothes into the trunk. Make sure you turn your clothes inside-out before you toss them.”
The twins know they have no choice but to do what Brandon says. They take off their clothes in between the cars and then toss their clothes into the trunk. They’re embarrassed to have to ride in the car with just their boxer briefs on.
“Good thing mom always reminds us to wear clean underwear,” says Jesus.
The twins can even find humor at the most awkward time. They laugh together, while Brandon and Dominic who are in the front seat look at each other, then shake their heads at the twins’ silliness.
Scott Samson
Detective David is in the station working on the Rossi file. He thinks back to the morning several years ago, when he came across the murder scene of Hailey Peterson. David remembers that Officer Scott Samson was one of the original officers on the scene. He doesn’t see Samson often, so David isn’t sure if he’s working this evening.
David looks up Samson’s phone number, then calls.
Samson is arriving home after a night out with his wife Michelle; it’s their date night. Officer Scott Samson is now known as Detective Samson; he was recently promoted from uniformed officer to plain-clothed detective. He’s an average height African-American, five feet eleven to be exact. Though he’s in his forties, he’s often mistaken for someone around thirty. Arriving at their condominium, Samson sheds his jacket and walks toward the bathroom while Michelle goes into the bedroom. Samson turns on the water to fill the bathtub to a nice warm temperature for his wife. He squirts bubble-bath and baby oil into the water. Samson’s cell phone rings and he activates his ear piece.
“Detective Samson,” he says.
“Hey, Scott, it’s Cooper David. How are you?”
“Hey, Coop, I’m good! Michelle and I just got in from our date night. What’s going on?”
While the tub is filling up with water, Sams
on continues to walk around his home, preparing something special for his wife. He reaches into a cabinet and grabs a can of chocolate frosting. He goes to the refrigerator and grabs a bowl of strawberries and then he cleans them.
“Oh, I’m sorry to bother you and Michelle. Wow, Halina and I haven’t had a date night in years.”
“She deserves it,” says Samson. “Dealing with a cop isn’t easy on Michelle. She’s been real patient with me.”
“Oh, how rude of me,” says David. “Congratulations on moving up to detective!”
“Thanks, Coop! It took a while, but I finally made it. The uniform is in storage now; I like that I can dress however I feel. I wore a suit and tie yesterday, but I can dress like I am right now as we speak. I’m wearing a T-shirt, jeans and Timberland boots. I love the freedom!”
While Scott is conversing, he grabs two glasses and a bottle of wine and heads back to the bathroom. His wife is in the bathtub relaxing with music playing softly; one of her favorite songs is on, “Late Nights & Early Mornings” by Marsha Ambrosius. Scott begins to serve Michelle chocolate-dipped strawberries as he continues to converse with David. Michelle is trying to relax and not let it show that she’s annoyed. She wants her husband’s full attention; she reminds herself that a police officer is always on duty.
“Scott,” says David, “I won’t keep you long, but do you remember that homicide of the junkie convict?”
“Wow, Coop, you’re going to have to be more specific than that. I’ve got a few files on my desk from throughout the year.”
Michelle coos, “Oh, baby that looks so big and juicy; don’t tease me.” She lets out a soft moan.
“Is it good to you, baby?” Scott asks her.
“Every bit of it! Don’t hold back on me, Scott!”
She loves to rub his shaved-bald head, she feels it fits his stocky-muscular build perfectly. Scott is trying his best to keep some type of focus of his conversation with David, but the sight of Michelle’s bedroom eyes makes his temperature rise. He especially loves when she uses her long dark hair to drape over one of her eyes. The baby-oil in the water glistens beautifully on Michelle’s caramel skin.
“I don’t think you’re ready for all of this!”
“I’m not a little girl. I’m grown! I want it all!”
Detective David is blushing, and his imagination is running wild.
“Scott, back in 2010, Hailey Peterson was released from prison; she was killed in an alley by some type of sharp weapon.”
“Yes, I recall that very well.”
“What do you know about her crime that landed her in prison or her background in general? I believe there’s a connection to her murder and some recent other murders.”
“From what I’ve discovered,” Samson says, “it was about an assault on a little girl in East Hartford about ten years ago. That’s one of my files on my desk. Her boyfriend that she was with was hit by a car or truck and killed.”
“Scott, you’ve been a huge help! Tell Michelle I said hello. Enjoy your evening. Thanks.” David ends the call so quickly, he never hears Scott say “You’re welcome.” David leans back into his chair to gather his thoughts about what Samson said. After briefly daydreaming, he picks up the phone to resume calling the long list of florists in around Connecticut. He knows that if he can locate a buyer of the unique Monkshood, that individual is surely the killer.
Brandon’s Choice
Brandon is in the rest room connected to the principal’s office. Mr. Hamilton is allowing him to use it on this special day, the day that Brandon Turner will tell the nation where he’ll attend school to play football next year. It’s Tuesday, shortly after lunch period. Brandon changes out of his sweats into a blue suit, with a white shirt and blue tie. He peeks out the window to see news trucks with attached satellite dishes on top: ESPN, CNN, FOX Sports and every local news station. Brandon has never been the nervous type, but today is different. He stares at himself in the mirror to collect his thoughts.
“You okay?” asks a voice on the other side of the door.
“I’m not sure, Pop.”
“May I come in?”
“Please do, dad.”
When Mr. Turner comes into the restroom, he notices his son standing in front of the mirror, holding his left thumb on his right wrist.
“What are you doing, son?”
A distracted Brandon says, “What? Oh, it’s an acupressure thing I heard someone in school talking about once. It’s supposed to relax you if you get anxious.”
“Well, is it helping?”
“Actually, it is helping. I never thought I’d need to use it.”
Brandon Turner Sr. places his hands on his son’s face, almost cradling his head. Brandon Sr. stands at six feet; he has to look up at his six-foot-three-inch son, who is still growing. His eyes begin to well up, as he smiles.
“Not a day goes by that I’m not proud of you; however, today you’ve taken it to another level.”
“Thanks, dad, I appreciate that.” They hug each other tightly. When they release each other, Brandon Sr. says, “Let’s go and tear the roof off!”
“I’m ready!”
They walk down the empty school hallway. They arrive at the school gymnasium and it is standing room only; the entire student body is in there waiting for Brandon’s announcement. The popping flash bulbs nearly blind him and his father.
Brandon makes his way toward the table that his mother, Coach Milford, and Principal Hamilton are standing at with two empty seats awaiting him and his father. Several microphones are placed in front of his seat and near them are two hats. After heavy debating, he’s narrowed his list to the schools that are named on the hats: USC and the University of Connecticut. One school is an hour from home, the other on the other side of the country. Brandon kisses his mother on her cheek; she’s fighting back tears. He then shakes the hand of Principal Hamilton and Coach Milford. He acknowledges the football team standing along the side of the gym by holding a fist toward them. He spots Lucy in the front row and gives her a wink. She blows him a kiss.
“Thank you, everyone, for attending today. I want to thank my parents for their guidance in becoming the person I am today. I want to thank the coaching staff, for molding me into the player that I’ve become. I want to thank Principal Hamilton and the school staff for their education services. School is always first.”
His mother says, “That’s right,” and brief laughter follows before he continues.
“I want to thank my friends, classmates, and teammates for having patience with me.” Brandon looks in the direction of Angel, Jesus, Chris, Dominic, and then finally a smiling Lucy. “You guys are the reason that I’m standing here today.”
“You the man, bro’!” someone from the audience yells out. Another yells, “We love you, Brandon!”
“Thank you!” says Brandon, blushing.
He reaches for the hat that represents the University of Connecticut and puts it on. “I’m staying home!”
The audience erupts in joy; the bulbs begin to flash again. Lucy looks at Brandon with a broad smile because she’s pleased that her man won’t be far away.
• • •
Later That Day
Jade visits Dr. Buckley.
“How was your trip last weekend?” he asks.
“It was actually fun. I can’t complain.”
“And the slumber party?”
When he asks that question, Jade is staring at the floor; then she looks directly at the doctor.
“What were you doing there, Gavin?” The question catches him off guard; he had no idea that she saw him.
“I was hoping you didn’t see me.”
Jade raises one of her eyebrows.
“I didn’t. You just told me. I had a hunch that you might try to investigate.”
He tries to hide how stupid he fe
els that he let a teenager out smart him.
“I drove by just to see where you were staying, so I could get a visual of the house for the next time we talked.”
“Oh, okay.”
He’s relieved that she buys it, that she doesn’t realize that he’d staked out the house.
“Taking a pillow and smothering someone did cross my mind,” says Jade, “but I remained calm throughout the night.”
“Well, I’m proud of you. The urge is there, but you’re controlling it.”
“I guess.” She gets up from the seat and walks towards the door. “I have some things to do. Bye, Gavin.”
School Dance
Whoa-uh-oh, It’s always a good time! Whoa-uh-oh, It’s always a good time!
It’s the night of the school dance in the gym, and the song “Good Time” by Owl City and Carly Rae Jepsen can be heard blaring out of the speakers, even from the parking lot. It’s only 7 p.m. and already the gym is packed. Brandon is being congratulated on his full ride. Lucy arrives and sees her boyfriend surrounded by classmates. Immediately, she walks to the D.J. to request a song. Once her song, “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk, plays, she runs over to Brandon to pull him to the dance floor.
Brooklyn is looking for Chris, but he’s nowhere in sight, so she asks Dominic to dance with her because she loves the song. As they dance, she questions Dominic about Chris’s where abouts.
Dominic says he hasn’t seen him, then looks over at Ida, off on the side; she notices him looking at her.
Now the Hernandez brothers arrive. Quickly, two girls grab them and split them up to go dance. A group of girls are watching with envy as Lucy dances with Brandon; the couple is either singing or lip synching to each other. The onlooking girls wish they could be in Lucy’s place.
Ida is constantly refusing boys who ask her to dance. She looks at Brooklyn and thinks, What a dumb, snobby bitch. She then looks at Lucy who’s still dancing, thinking, That bitch is so fake.
An annoyed Ida decides to go outside for some fresh autumn air only to find Chris and Vicki kissing between two cars. Ida is disgusted by her best friend and that slime ball Chris’s actions. She takes a few steps toward them, but then stops when she sees Lauren walking quickly toward them as they cluelessly make out. Ida smiles as if it’s Christmas morning and there are gifts under the tree. She walks back into the dance and heads towards Brooklyn, who is still dancing with Dominic.
Blind Man's Bluff Page 16