The Lost Thought

24. Addie

17th, September

"All right," Addie said, "new plan. We bring the guy who's downstairs and make him kick out the Adam guy.

  Jeff laughed. "Is he really still there? What is he doing, attracting girls?"

  Walking to the window, "It sure worked," Addie mumbled, walking to the window. "Is plan H still on?" Addie asked.

  "Plan H?" Jeff questioned. Addie groaned, "The plan I just told you about?" Addie groaned.

  Oh, oh, "Jeff considered this. If he really could do that many sit-ups a day, he might be strong enough to get Adam out. But that might give off an intention of wanting him gone... They didn't want him gone, they just wanted him... Yeah, they wanted him gone.

  "Yep, sure. You call him, if he's willing to come. " Jeff answered.

About 10 minutes later, the guy downstairs came up the stairs, running, and he arrived in 19 seconds, using the stairs even though Addie's hotel was on the 6th floor. He was fast.

  "I was called. What do you need me for? " He was Asian, but he looked African. He spoke English like it was his second language.

  Addie just stared at him, taking him in. So Jeff replied, "Umm, get someone out for us?"

  The guy nodded slowly, not convinced, but he agreed. 

__________________________________________
Jacqueline

__________________________________________

Jacqueline noticed a crack.

The bridge was failing. She kept her gaze fixed ahead. There was still no sign of him. She was referring to her father when she said "him." Her real one, not Adam's idiot father.

  Her father, however, was not present. A part of her hoped he was still there. Her father wasn't bad; he was just furious at Jacqueline.

  That's probably because Jacqueline tried to kill him earlier, but it obviously didn't work because he was just a few minutes ago in front of Jacqueline. Jacqueline assumed it was a delusion. Her entire existence had been a delusion. It was all a dream.

  She stood up, wincing in pain in her head. "Sorry," a thick British accented voice said. Jacqueline jumped, and her expression changed.

  It was a man. It was Sammy, her father. "I'm sorry for leaving you earlier." The man paused. "You were unconscious. I didn't know what to do."

  "Also, I know this is a terrible time, but," he produced a tiny box from his pocket and continued, "this is for your sweet 16." Jacqueline gasped. She had attempted to murder this man years before, and now he was sending her a 6-year-old birthday gift? For killing him? She was quite self-centered.

  "I-I-I can't," she shook her head. She stood up and walked away. "Jacky." Sammy called, but it was pointless because Jacqueline was already out of earshot.

__________________________________________
Ned

__________________________________________

Ned announced that he was going for a walk. 

  Was he? No, unless you consider pickpocketing to be a walk. He'd noticed a few visitors to Africa with pockets. This time, he noticed an African man with pockets.

  Ned assumed he was wealthy because he was plump. The vast majority of plump people were wealthy. The man was sound asleep, which was ideal.

  Ned crept up behind him and pulled out five 200 Rand notes! (South African currency.) That was close to 50 euros!

  Ned fled, overjoyed with his success. "Ay!" A man called. Ned continued to flee. "Stop right now, you there!" He'd never been apprehended before. How did this happen?

  "Ay! We'll shoot you if you don't stop!"

  Ned nearly passed out.