Don't Be in the Bath When Opportunity Knocks
Long Way Home
"Billie Joe?" Audrey said into the phone.
"Huh? No, this is Mike."
"Well, whatever, is Tre with you guys?" she said sitting on the couch.
"I don't know."
"What?" she got up and paced over to the door, opening and looking out of it onto the empty street.
"I said I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know if he's there or not?" she closed the door.
"Well, I don't know if he's with Billie Joe, but he's not with me."
Audrey sighed.
"Okay, thanks," she said before hanging up. She went into her room and dialed Billie Joe's number.
"Yello," he said answering.
"Billie Joe?"
"Yuhuh."
Audrey smiled. "Is Tre with you?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Well do you know where he is?" she paced into the kitchen.
"No. He took off last night after... you know."
"Did he say where he was going?" she sat back on the couch.
"Wait, he's not with you?"
"NO! Why would I ask you if you knew where he was if he was with me!?" she shouted into the phone.
"Sorry."
"No, it's okay. I'm just worried about him."
"Well, I'll call around."
"Thanks Billie Joe," she said before hanging up again. Audrey got up and opened the door. The street was still empty.
"Come on Tre, come home."
***
Audrey was crouched down on the floor next to the door with the cordless phone cradled in her arms. She randomly turned it on to make sure there was a dial tone. All these horrible thoughts were racing through her mind. She kept envisioning him passed out in a dirty street gutter with bloody wounds. Or on a slave ship to Guam where he'd be forced into the military after having been drugged and shang-hied. Or locked in the trunk of a car. Or tied to a chair in a warehouse on a pier by mobsters. Or locked in some crazy kidnapper's basement, tied to a chair being beaten. 'He might enjoy that if he's being held captive by a girl,' she thought.
Shaking her head, she tried to push these nearly impossible scenarios out of her imagination. She's always had an overactive imagination when it came to these sort of things. He should have called to say he was okay. He shouldn't have come to the club in the first place. She shouldn't have yelled at him. She shouldn't have left with out him. She should have just told him what she did. She shouldn't have reacted the way the way she did. She should have told him she was a stripper. Why was she so embarrassed by that? Everyone who came into that club knew. Why didn't she tell Tre. He was just some stupid kid. But she didn't tell him. She couldn't. He was the only person who'd shown an interest in her. Okay, that's not true. Plenty of people- men - were interested in her. But they only wanted her for one thing. Yeah, it was obvious Tre wanted that too, but he also showed a general interest in her. He cared for her. Unlike anyone else.
RIIIING!
The phone startled her and she dropped it. "Tre?" she said answering it.
"No, Billie Joe. Has he shown up?"
"No," she said shaking her head.
"Well, I called around, and no one's seen him. I'll keep looking though."
"Thanks, Billie Joe."
As she hung up, she couldn't help but burst into noisy tears.
***
Tre rode the bus to a bus stop about three blocks away from Audrey's apartment.
'What if she hates me? What if she won't let me come home? I don't want her to hate me.' he kept repeating to himself as he parked on the bench in the stop, looking up the street towards her apartment. He sat on the bench for a good hour before getting up and walking the opposite direction from home.
"I can't go home yet," he said aloud. "I can't go home yet."
He wandered into a park near the Berkeley campus and took a drink from a water fountain. There was some sort of birthday party going on. He plopped down on one a swing and watched the kids playing on the jungle gym.
'They must think I'm some creepy homeless child molester,' he thought. The thought made him laugh out loud.
He ambled around town until he heard his stomach growl. Trying to ignore it, he wrapped his arms around his waist and continued wandering. It was no use. He was damn hungry. And broke.
'She can't hate me if I'm dying from starvation,' he thought.
It took him a half an hour to make his way home, and even then, he lingered at the edge of the block before crawling up the street and knocking on the door. It swung open.
"TRE!"
"Huh? No, this is Mike."
"Well, whatever, is Tre with you guys?" she said sitting on the couch.
"I don't know."
"What?" she got up and paced over to the door, opening and looking out of it onto the empty street.
"I said I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know if he's there or not?" she closed the door.
"Well, I don't know if he's with Billie Joe, but he's not with me."
Audrey sighed.
"Okay, thanks," she said before hanging up. She went into her room and dialed Billie Joe's number.
"Yello," he said answering.
"Billie Joe?"
"Yuhuh."
Audrey smiled. "Is Tre with you?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Well do you know where he is?" she paced into the kitchen.
"No. He took off last night after... you know."
"Did he say where he was going?" she sat back on the couch.
"Wait, he's not with you?"
"NO! Why would I ask you if you knew where he was if he was with me!?" she shouted into the phone.
"Sorry."
"No, it's okay. I'm just worried about him."
"Well, I'll call around."
"Thanks Billie Joe," she said before hanging up again. Audrey got up and opened the door. The street was still empty.
"Come on Tre, come home."
***
Audrey was crouched down on the floor next to the door with the cordless phone cradled in her arms. She randomly turned it on to make sure there was a dial tone. All these horrible thoughts were racing through her mind. She kept envisioning him passed out in a dirty street gutter with bloody wounds. Or on a slave ship to Guam where he'd be forced into the military after having been drugged and shang-hied. Or locked in the trunk of a car. Or tied to a chair in a warehouse on a pier by mobsters. Or locked in some crazy kidnapper's basement, tied to a chair being beaten. 'He might enjoy that if he's being held captive by a girl,' she thought.
Shaking her head, she tried to push these nearly impossible scenarios out of her imagination. She's always had an overactive imagination when it came to these sort of things. He should have called to say he was okay. He shouldn't have come to the club in the first place. She shouldn't have yelled at him. She shouldn't have left with out him. She should have just told him what she did. She shouldn't have reacted the way the way she did. She should have told him she was a stripper. Why was she so embarrassed by that? Everyone who came into that club knew. Why didn't she tell Tre. He was just some stupid kid. But she didn't tell him. She couldn't. He was the only person who'd shown an interest in her. Okay, that's not true. Plenty of people- men - were interested in her. But they only wanted her for one thing. Yeah, it was obvious Tre wanted that too, but he also showed a general interest in her. He cared for her. Unlike anyone else.
RIIIING!
The phone startled her and she dropped it. "Tre?" she said answering it.
"No, Billie Joe. Has he shown up?"
"No," she said shaking her head.
"Well, I called around, and no one's seen him. I'll keep looking though."
"Thanks, Billie Joe."
As she hung up, she couldn't help but burst into noisy tears.
***
Tre rode the bus to a bus stop about three blocks away from Audrey's apartment.
'What if she hates me? What if she won't let me come home? I don't want her to hate me.' he kept repeating to himself as he parked on the bench in the stop, looking up the street towards her apartment. He sat on the bench for a good hour before getting up and walking the opposite direction from home.
"I can't go home yet," he said aloud. "I can't go home yet."
He wandered into a park near the Berkeley campus and took a drink from a water fountain. There was some sort of birthday party going on. He plopped down on one a swing and watched the kids playing on the jungle gym.
'They must think I'm some creepy homeless child molester,' he thought. The thought made him laugh out loud.
He ambled around town until he heard his stomach growl. Trying to ignore it, he wrapped his arms around his waist and continued wandering. It was no use. He was damn hungry. And broke.
'She can't hate me if I'm dying from starvation,' he thought.
It took him a half an hour to make his way home, and even then, he lingered at the edge of the block before crawling up the street and knocking on the door. It swung open.
"TRE!"