thoughts of peace on his mind Horace proceeded to finish off his meal with the fortune cookie that was next to his empty plate.
The cookie was just as he had expected it to be; stale without much taste or excitement. If the cookie was this bad then the fortune that was written on the slip of paper would most definitely be just as horrible.
It must be some kind of joke Horace thought to himself.
"Your life is in danger. Say nothing to anyone. You must leave the city immediately and never return. Repeat: say nothing."...
Danger, what did this mean? What kind of danger and where was it coming from? It had to be his father, he was sure of that. Mother had said that if he married another beside the bride that father had chosen for him that it would break her heart. Father on the other had made threats that were just short of death if Horace did not follow the family wishes. Oh how Horace resented having money and the greed that it brought with it. –For the love of money is the root of all evil-
Horace had heard this from his grandmother when he was young and never really understood what it meant; until now. He wanted to show the fortune to the waiter and ask if it were some kind of joke. Horace chose to keep quiet because he was following the instructions on the fortune. There had to be a sense of reality to this fortune because unlike all of the other fortunes that were printed in small font type; this particular one was hand written so it must be true.
“If my life is in danger then Marie’s life would also be in jeopardy if we were to get married, and I won’t allow that” thought Horace to himself.
The meal ticket was on the table and so Horace left a single $100.00 bill and the fortune; perhaps it could be a clue if someone were to look for him. Would that someone be Marie? Of course, she would because Horace knew that she loved him as much if not more than he loved her.
“Hey watch it buddy, you trying to hurt someone?” the homeless man said to the man in the fancy suit jacket as he was nearly run down. “Sorry, I’m in kind of a hurry, didn’t see you. Here take this jacket it’ll keep you warm.
Inside the jacket pocket the scraggy man found three more $100.00 bills and a picture of a beautiful blonde girl; a girl named Marie.
“Maybe the old man hurt Horace and took the coat and the money,” said Marie. “No,” the waiter replied. “I saw him run down the street to the north and disappear around the corner. “Who would want to hurt my Horace? Could it be his father?” I tried to be as tactful as possible in the situation but told her that in reality it would not be the first case that I had investigated and found foul play from another family member.
Tears again filled the blue eyes that Marie had showed me at our first meeting and that made me very angry. I could feel my blood pressure building causing the veins in my temple to begin to throb. I swore that if it was the last thing I ever did I would find the worthless father that could cause so much grief in his son’s life; all over money. He would pay and pay dearly. With his life if necessary, and that was a promise. It was a promise that I kept to myself to avoid involving Marie or anyone else in the trouble that was sure to come. My mind was made up and this is the path that I have chosen.
Of course the old man denied that he had any involvement in his son’s disappearance as I was sure that he would. All that I could see were the tears flowing from Marie’s eyes and all I could hear were the sobs that came from deep within her soul.
I don’t know which was louder the ringing in my ears or the thunder that came from the .44 magnum revolver that I used to remove this piece of scum from the world.
Moment later the sirens sounded my fate in this matter. Everything is just noise now; that is all I remember, from the gunshot and the ringing in my ears to the police sirens and the slamming of the gavel when the trial was over. My life would soon be over as I hear the sound of the guards coming to get me and take me to meet Mr. Fryer. I remove a piece of scum from this planet and they give me the death penalty.
It is three minutes till 12:00 and I can hear the transformers whining as they build up to high voltage. The darkness under the hood fills my soul as I make peace with God, waiting, hoping for the call to come in. As the juice begins to flow through my body I am assured that it is not going to happen. I see…
In the production room of the Fillmore Fortune Cookie Factory there are twenty or so tables occupied by workers of various nationalities and genders each busy about their days task; the task of writing fortunes upon their type writers. In the corner of the room sits a man with a pen in hand, silently laughing as he pens down these words:
"Your life is in danger. Say nothing to anyone. You must leave the city immediately and never return. Repeat: say nothing."...
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