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Chapter 8: The Return
8:24 pm. Saturday, June 7. Somewhere over Nevada.
“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into flying first class.”
“You said you were here on my mother’s dime. She’s got plenty of them, she won’t miss a few thousand.”
John and Michael had been in the air for just under an hour. Michael had spent the last few hours telling John everything that had happened to him, leaving out the parts that might make the old man’s heart stop. Through it all John just smiled and listened, marveling at the luck of it all. If only he had had the same opportunities when he was young.
Whenever John was able to get a word in edgewise, he asked Michael why he never told anyone about these amazing things that were happening to him. Michael never gave him a straight answer about that nor did he tell him why he had no problem leaving all of it behind. The more the two of them spoke the more suspicious John became.
“I can’t wait to tell Rosa about everything. She’s going to go nuts when she sees whose numbers I have in my cell phone,” said Michael. He motioned for the stewardess to give him another whiskey.
“You sure you want another?” asked John.
“Don’t worry, this is the last one,” said Michael as he sipped his drink. “Let me ask you something John.”
“Okay.”
“How much do you get paid?”
John smirked. “You want to know how much I get paid?”
“Yeah, and the rest of the guys who work at the house.”
“Why do you want to know that?” asked John. “You going to offer something better?”
Michael chuckled. “No, just an idle question I’ve had for a long time.”
“That was very impolite of you to ask,” said John. He cleared his throat
“Isn’t it impolite not to answer?” asked Michael. “Never mind. I have a pretty good idea anyway.” Michael reached up and turned his air on.
“You know, Karl at Lockheed is looking forward to you coming back.”
“Heh, I’m sure he is,” said Michael. He reached down and felt the briefcase under his seat to make sure it was still there. Then he pushed the seat recline button and leaned back. John looked at him quizzically.
11:43 pm. Somewhere over Illinois.
The urges of nature drew Michael out of his pleasant stare. He unbuckled his seat belt and headed for the bathroom. Inside his sterile little fortress he contemplated pissing all over the toilet paper so no one else could use it. But he figured that within the next few hours he might need to use it, so he decided against it and let loose into the blue steel of the toilet.
He washed his hands and took out his cell phone. Tapping a few buttons, he checked the time in Australia. Michael dialed Rachael’s hotel room. After seven rings he was about to hang up when he heard a click and a spirited hello.
“Hey Rachael, this is Mike,” said Michael.
“Oh hi Mike! How are you?” asked Rachel.
“Pretty good, you?”
“I’m great!” Rachael seemed to be in a good mood. Michael could hear voices in the background. “Hey! Stop it!” laughed Rachel.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, just Tobey acting like a knucklehead!”
“Ohhh, you and Tobey getting a little close are we?” said Michael jokingly.
“Maybe,” said Rachael with a chuckle. “So what have you been up to?”
“Oh you know me Rach, I don’t kiss and tell,” said Michael. “How’s the shoot going?”
“Good, right on schedule,” said Rachael. “Tobey finally settled down. You know he’s a really great actor. Such a great guy too.”
“Well I hope to meet this nice young man when the shoot is over. Perhaps you can bring him over for supper.”
“Very funny Mike,” said Rachael. “Hey! Tobey! Come back here with that! Sorry Mike, can I call you back? Tobey uh, took something of mine.”
Michael laughed. “Hey no problem. Glad you’re having fun.”
“Tobey!” yelled out Rachael. “Grr. Bye!”
The phone clicked and Michael put his cell phone back in his pocket. He went back to his seat and settled in for the rest of the flight.
9:12 am. Sunday, June 8. Torbin Estate. Bethesda, Maryland.
The birds seemed to be especially chipper that morning. Through his open window Michael could hear them squawking and flapping happily. Even on only a few hours sleep Michael felt refreshed, energized. He slipped out of bed and took a long, luxurious shower. Then he dressed and headed out of his little bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen.
Rosa was already awake and preparing breakfast. She smiled with delight as Michael entered the kitchen. “Michael! How are you? Come here and give me a hug!”
Michael gave her a tight squeeze. “Hi Rosa, how’ve you been?”
“Me? Good, I’ve been fine.” She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “Ever since I saw you in that tabloid I’ve been dying to know what you’ve been doing.”
“Tabloid? Really? Do you still have it?” asked Michael.
She nodded. “It’s in my bedroom. I’ll show it to you later, I don’t want your mother to find out about it. So, tell me all about your trip to Los Angeles.”
“It’s kind of a long story Rosa.”
“Well then I’m cooking you a big breakfast.” She turned around and began digging in the refrigerator, pulling out all manner of breakfast food. Sausage, bacon, eggs, pancake mix, bread, and her special homemade strudel.
