WAITING FOR LOVE
Chapter 9
copyright 1999, 2004 crunkoid@aol.com
Daphne woke up to the sound of swishing noises and William swearing in a high-pitched voice.
He was in front of the toilet, scrubbing it. A container of Tidee-Toilet sat next to him. It was half clean.
William took the container, poured the rest of it into the bowl and continued cleaning, muttering rapidly.
“Gotta get it clean or daddy gonna kick my ass. Gotta get it clean. He hates dirty toilets. Now I hate dirty toilets. He gonna kick my ass. Gotta get it clean.”
Personality number three, Daphne thought. The dirty-toilet man. That’s right. I remember him talking incessantly about toilets in all those papers and at the trial.
She went back to sleep, since she had nothing big planned for the day.
* * * * *
The only sound in the room was a ticking clock.
Justin stared defiantly at it.
Nine-fifteen came and went. He looked at the others, who either frowned or bowed their heads. He looked back at the clock.
“Seventy-two hours,” Justin said. “And nothing.”
Lance closed his eyes and moved his lips silently. Joey sat still, just looking at everyone. JC leaned against his friend Bobbie, who hugged him. A few friends and family members looked in their direction from the livingr oom. Chris covered his face with one hand and didn’t move for a long time.
Justin said, “Did anyone hear me?”
“Yes,” Lance said softly.
Justin got up and went outside.
Joey followed him.
Out on the beach, they walked for a while. Then Justin suddenly said, “Let’s go clubbing.”
“Right now? It’s early morning.”
“Who gives a shit.” Justin stalked towards his car.
They drove to a cheap 24-hour club and ordered soft drinks. Almost immediately, a curvy blonde walked over to them and sat next to Justin.
“Hi,” she said.
Justin scowled into his drink.
“Aren’t you Justin Timberlake?”
He continued to scowl.
Joey got up and stood between them. “My friend is having a very bad day. You’ll have to excuse him.”
The girl looked disappointed. “Okay.”
Joey turned on his most charming smile. “What’s your name?”
Justin got up from his seat and stomped out of the club.
The girl said, “Leeann.”
“Well, Leeann, it was a pleasure meeting you. I’m sorry we couldn’t get to know you better.” He kissed her hand and hurried to catch up to Justin.
Back in the car, Justin circled around a large portion of the city several times, looking around as if searching for something.
After two hours of this, Joey said, “Buddy. Let’s go back to the beach.”
Justin pressed down on the gas pedal. A few minutes later he stepped out of his car and slammed the door and walked toward the ocean. He walked fast, then faster, then began to run. He ran right into the water and started to scream.
Joey turned his back and let his friend have some privacy.
After a long while, Justin sloshed up the sand toward Joey.
He felt a little better. But he also felt very wet. He dropped dramatically to the ground and shouted, “I HATE LOSING.” He grabbed a handful of sand and threw it toward the ocean.
Joey sat there quietly.
“Did you hear me?” Justin said loudly, pushing at Joey. “I HATE losing.”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
Justin kicked at the sand. He looked like a little kid. Joey smiled at him, at the same time feeling horrible. “Get it out, bro, don’t let it eat you alive.”
Justin’s face crumpled and he turned around, laid down and cried like a baby.
Joey felt tears on his own cheeks.
* * * * *
In the early evening of that day, Daphne dreamed.
Someone had her by her hands and was spinning her around. He looked somewhat like Justin, but her heart told her it was Chris.
She woke up. Her stomach was growling again. She managed to get to the top of the stairs and pounded weakly on the door.
“William, may I please have something to eat?”
Silence.
“William, just a little bite of something. Anything.”
The door opened. His hand appeared, holding a Snickers candy bar and an Almond Joy candy bar. “Pick one.”
She stared in surprise, thinking it was an illusion.
“May I have the Snickers?”
“Take it.” He dropped it on the top step and shut the door.
She took it to the bed, sat down and slowly peeled the wrapper off. She stared lovingly at the candy, then took a tiny bite.
She thought about saving some of it, but was afraid of ants coming in and devouring it. Instead, she slowly ate the whole thing, then went back to sleep.
* * * * *
When she woke up it was morning, and he was cleaning the toilet again, muttering, swishing.
William Smith, Renaissance man, she thought. Restaurateur, connoisseur of fine foods, janitor, and part-time criminal. A man of many talents.
He shrieked a few obscenities, went upstairs and left. She heard the car as it drove away.
She climbed the stairs and tried opening the trap-door but it would not move.
She went back to sleep.
* * * * *
Justin woke up with a start. He could hear sniffling.
He was on the couch in the living room. The sniffling someone was Chris, who sat near the TV. Onscreen was a pretty newscaster who said, “A young woman who was vacationing on the west side of the island is still missing. Daphne Brewer has been missing for more than three days. Authorities believe her disappearance may be related to this man’s escape from a California prison.”
A picture of William Smith popped up next to the picture of Daphne.
The newscaster said, “William Smith escaped from prison in California four days ago. He is considered armed and dangerous. If you have any information about this case, please call the number on your screen.”
Justin grabbed the remote. With a practiced aim, he turned off the TV. Then he went to Chris and sat to his left side.
Chris’s nose was red. He looked deeply upset, rather than macho and distant.
“I’m sorry,” Chris said. “So sorry, Justin. I liked her too much. That was why I was mean to her.”
Justin hugged Chris.
An FBI agent shouted from somewhere in the house, “We got a lead on Smith!”
“What?” Justin said loudly.
The agent said loud enough for everyone to hear, “A stewardess and some passengers identified him from a flight that landed in Hawaii.”
Chris’s face crumbled. “What if she dies?” He sobbed.
“Think positive,” Justin said. “We have to be strong for her.”
