Just Like In The Movies
Roy Dorman Groggy and disoriented, Josh Baker was slowly waking to the sound of someone talking very close to his face. Much too close. The strong smell of garlic and mayo on that someone’s breath was mixing badly with the mediciney taste in the back of his throat. “….and I’ve seen all of your movies. I have DVDs of the ones I like best. Like that one where you fall in love with one of the women in the terrorist group that kidnapped you…” “Wait a minute, wait a minute. If you’ll untie me right now I promise not to go to the police.” “Oh, that’s great! That’s just what you said to her in the movie. Is there any chance you’re already falling in love with me?” You Can Stay “So, what’s for dinner, Babe?” Helen Denton was just setting two bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter and was a little freaked to hear the question that came from the living room. She lived alone. She had no husband, partner, or roommate. Helen was thirty-two and had recently grown comfortable with being single; she was no longer looking. Maybe at some level still hoping, but not looking. She had set the bar high as to what a partner should bring to a relationship and most of the men she had recently dated had fallen woefully short. In her mind, she had put together the type of partner she was looking for should someone like that ever cross her path. Her first thought was to bolt for the door, get out of her apartment and call the police. But what if her “visitor” was quicker and stronger than she was? He had sounded casual in his question, so she decided she would try casual in reply. “There’s still one more bag in the car. I left the hatchback up. Could you get it and then close things up?” “Sure thing, Babe. Be right back.” She heard someone walk behind her but didn’t look around to see who it was that was headed toward the front door. After he was out, she locked the door and fastened the chain lock. There was no bag of groceries and there was no hatchback to close up; Helen didn’t have a car. A cab had dropped her off in front of her building with her two bags of groceries. Her heart beating wildly, she waited to hear him come back up the stairs and down the hall to her door. She expected him to make a scene in the hallway and one of her neighbors would call the police. He didn’t come back. She caught herself thinking about “him” throughout the rest of day. Later that night as she was in bed fluffing her pillow and musing over the day’s earlier weirdness, she was only a little startled this time when the drowsy question floated over from the other side of her bed. “Did you remember that you have a dentist appointment tomorrow?” “Yeah, it’s at 9:30; got it covered,” Helen replied. “Aren’t you curious as to who I am? I know I’m curious.” “I know who you are. Just put the toilet seat down and don’t leave dirty socks and underwear all over. And until I say different, stay on your own side of the bed.” “Sure thing, Babe.” “One more thing; it’s Helen, not Babe.” |
About the author:
Roy Dorman is retired from the University of Wisconsin-Madison Benefits Office and has been a voracious reader for over 60 years. At the prompting of an old high school friend, himself a retired English teacher, Roy is now a voracious writer. He has had poetry and flash fiction published most recently in Birds Piled Loosely, Camel Saloon, Drunk Monkeys, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, Theme of Absence, Yellow Mama, Black Petals, Flash Fiction Magazine, and Shotgun Honey, |
