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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Dinner is Prompt-ly at Eight - 13. Prompt #382 - The Butler Did It

Here is the fifth chapter of The Twisted Tale of Donnie Malone
Prompt 382 – Creative - Use the following words in a story – a beach ball, a vacation ticket, a snow storm, a crying child, and a pair of broken glasses.

The Butler Did It

When Donnie Malone first woke up to the sound, he could have sworn it was a crying child. He opened his eyes and then remembered he was alone in a cheap motel room with thin walls and it could be coming from any room nearby. He tried going back to sleep, but the cheap champagne had given him a pounding headache. It wouldn’t be stilled by the sandman so he slowly opened up the covers and rolled out of bed.

When he stepped down, he heard a crunch beneath his feet. After flicking on the lamp, he looked down and saw a pair of broken glasses, his cheaters twisted with shattered lenses. They looked as forlorn as he felt. It was New Year’s yet what promise could this new circuit of the earth around the sun mean for him? Donnie sighed and wrapped his threadbare robe around him, stretching his sore muscles and glancing toward the windows.

The tawdry, worn curtains were half open and outside there was a whirl of white slamming into the panes rattling them. He heard it again. It was the wind and not a wailing infant that greeted him this morning. The swirl of the rushing air filled the room with a screaming sound that hurt his ears. It was only a snow storm.

Donnie headed into the foul bathroom and did his morning business. As he finished brushing his teeth, he heard a pounding on a door, the door to his room. “Now what?” he said to his image in the cracked mirror above the sink. “Haven’t I been through enough?”

The pounding stopped for a moment and then resumed. Donnie padded over to the door and peeked through the peephole. What he saw both shocked and amazed him. Fumbling with the chain, he finally got the door open to greet his visitor.

It was Fahd. The butler.

“What happened to you?” Donnie asked, his voice sounding whiny even in his own ears. He appraised the tall, swarthy man adorned with patches of snow and waited.

“Thank God you’re alright,” the butler said in a rush. “I was afraid they’d gotten to you too.”

“What are you talking about?” Donnie demanded. “Where did you go? Where have you been?”

“Can I come in?” Fahd asked, looking around the hall nervously. “I have to talk to you.”

“Come in,” Donnie said. The man came into the room and embraced him taking Donnie by surprise, again. “I don’t-“

“They’re after you,” Fahd said, whispering into his ear. “We have to get you out of here.”

“What the…?” Donnie began, pulling away from the man quickly. “I can’t go anywhere. The police are still investigating me. Where have you been? What happened to my wife?”

There were too many questions Donnie wanted to ask, spilling out of him in a torrent. The butler shook his head over and over, finally reaching over and pulling Donnie close. Fahd’s face loomed, getting closer until his lips latched onto the other man’s. Donnie’s eyes bugged as he tried to pull away. The bigger man was stronger and his kiss deepened. In spite of himself, Donnie kissed back with passion his tongue caressing the other man’s lips.

“I’ll explain in the car,” Fahd said, pulling away. His caramel colored skin was blotchy and red. Donnie didn’t know if it was from their kiss or the cold outside. He was confused, scared, and more than a little turned on. He’d dreamed of the handsome man’s kisses and it seemed too good to be true especially given his sad state of affairs.

“I’m not going anywhere without an explanation,” Donnie gasped. “Did you…?”

Fahd’s eyes darted about the room. He seemed especially agitated as he began pacing the room. “I can only tell you a few things now. We need to get you out of here before they come.”

“Before who comes? What’s happening?” Donnie asked. He sat on the bed and crossed his arms looking up at the fidgeting butler. “I’m got budging until you answer me.”

Fahd ran his fingers through his jet black hair. Water flew from the tresses as he mumbled to himself. “You don’t get it. Brenda’s dead and they tried to shoot me. We have to get you out of here,” the butler said looking at him frantically. “It all fell to pieces when they found the letter. Now all of us are in danger.”

“Who’s Brenda?” Donnie asked, shell-shocked.

“The woman who played your wife,” Fahd said. “Now get dressed. We have to get to the airport.”

Donnie opened his mouth and shut it, several times. His mind was awhirl with the butler’s words. “I don’t understand…”

“Here,” Fahd said, thrusting something into his hand. It was a long envelope full of papers. A beach ball was depicted on the front of it with the words, ‘A Vacation Ticket to Paradise. Donnie pulled out a plane ticket and looked up at the harried butler.

“Why are we going to Florida?” he asked, his voice soft and worried.

“I have family there. They will keep us safe,” Fahd said. “Now hurry. I’ll tell you the rest in the car.”

Donnie felt his eyes begin to burn. The events were too much. “I can’t. They’ll arrest me.”

“If you don’t, they’ll put a bullet in your head,” Fahd said. He stopped pacing and fell to one knee. “We don’t have much time, Donnie. I can’t have them getting to you too.”

Donnie could see the butler was terrified. That emotion began coursing through his veins as well. “Are you coming with me?”

“Of course,” Fahd said, his lip quivering. Donnie leaned over and kissed him gently. The swarthy man’s skin twitched under his hands. His returning kiss was eager, excited.

“I trust you,” Donnie said finally. He pulled away and went over to the bureau. “I need to pack.”

“There isn’t time,” Fahd said loudly. “Put on some clothes and grab your backpack. We need to get on the plane before they find you.”

Donnie pulled on jeans, threw on a sweatshirt and stuffed his book into his bag with a couple of bathroom items. He struggled into his coat and looked around the room. There really wasn’t anything else he needed here. It was all the flotsam and jetsam of a failed life.

“I’m ready,” he announced. “Let’s go.”

Fahd didn’t rush out the door. Instead he took the other man’s face in his hands, tenderly stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “I never meant this to happen. If I’d have lost you…”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Donnie said, tears spilling from his cheeks. They were a mixture of nervousness and excitement. “Did you kill her?”

“No,” Fahd said, kissing him quickly. “But, I did it. I set this whole damned thing up.”

Donnie felt as the swarthy man grabbed his arm. They raced down the hallway and out into the swirling blizzard. As the ice struck his face, Donnie Malone wondered what was going to happen to him next. This was all so weird.

This chapter is in memory of Mary Rinehart, writer of "The Door," a book where the butler actually did it. It is also dedicated to P.G. Wodehouse who wrote a book with the title of this chapter.
Copyright © 2017 Cole Matthews; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

On 01/05/2015 09:20 AM, Carlos Hazday said:
You're really going to dole out details with an eye dropper, aren't you?

Maybe those two will hook up with the guy from my prompt response and bat around that beach ball together while they're all in Florida! :P

Haha! You always make me laugh Carlos! An eye dropper? That's so good! Don't tempt me with a scenario like that. You know I might do it! Thanks Carlos! ;)
On 01/08/2015 06:38 PM, aditus said:
But isn't it always the gardener? Anyway, I have to say...well what Carlos said. But I always liked Fahd, so that's good. And may the next prompts inspire you or something...
Haha, or the janitor or the maid? We will see what's next! Perhaps some hard boiled detective work would help! Thanks Addy for the sweet review!
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