Rewrite -- Chapter Five
(Biscuits for Whom?; Hide and Seek)
Chapter 1A: https://hatcherfictionwriter.substack.com/p/michael-hatchers-unpublished-novel
Chapter 1B: https://hatcherfictionwriter.substack.com/p/rewrite-chapter-1b
Chapter 2: https://hatcherfictionwriter.substack.com/p/rewrite-chapter-2
Chapter 3: https://hatcherfictionwriter.substack.com/p/rewrite-chapter-3
Chapter 4: https://hatcherfictionwriter.substack.com/p/rewrite-chapter-4
5.
Billy’s shallow sleep, punctuated at regular intervals by outlandish nightmares, left him worn-out. When his eyes opened grudgingly just after six, Billy lay in bed, contemplating the road ahead. After a few minutes, he dragged himself to the bathroom, took a piss, and splashed water on his face. He studied his reflection in the mirror. He slapped himself, not hard enough to leave a mark, but with enough force that it got his attention.
He picked up his wallet and a picture of Terry.
God, where are you? Why did you leave? Were you made to? Or did you just decide to?
Before he lost it again, he tucked the picture into his shirt pocket.
A knock sounded at the door. Mrs. Biggins.
“Good morning, Billy,” she said, smile painted on, jaw clenched. “How about some breakfast? I made scrambled eggs. Got sausage, ham, bacon, whatever you like.”
Billy’s stomach rumbled in agreement, but his brain took over. “Well, actually, I need to get out on the road and start looking for Terry.”
“Nonsense. At least not before you get something in that stomach. Passing out ain’t gonna get you nowhere, young man. Come on now.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Damn right, I’m right. Get yourself woke up, and come on down.”
Moments later, still rubbing bits of matter out of his eyes, Billy headed downstairs to fix his plate. A jitteriness gnawed at his stomach, twisting it up into an acidic knot.
Is Tommy Wayne up yet? He checked the clock, an acrylic rooster crowing the half-hour and hour. 8:37. Shoot.
“Well, go ahead. Get whatever you want. Got some coffee made, if you’d like some. Orange juice is in the fridge. Milk, if you’d prefer.” He loaded his plate with scrambled eggs, a thick slice of ham, two scoops of grits, and a cup of coffee, black.
“Thanks, ma’am. This looks really good.”
Mrs. Biggins studied Billy carefully as he scarfed down breakfast.
“So tell me. How long did you say your sister’s been missing?”
“About two weeks.”
“Hmmm.” She arched her eyebrows slightly. “So you think she might’ve come around here, huh?” Something in her tone? … Billy couldn’t pin it down.
“Uh, I’m not sure, except for it was the nearest place, and I could walk it if I had to. I’m just glad Tommy Wayne came along.”
“Yeah, the boy’s got helpfulness spilling all out of him.” Her thin smile transformed itself into a fuller smirk.
