I knocked on the white door, of her yellow house. The kids stood close to the door, excited.
Kay opened the door. She was almost five inches taller, than my short self. I looked into her big brown eyes, after the kids attacked her with welcoming hugs.
"Let the gods rain joy upon you and your many loved ones. For your sacrifice is welcomed. Oh, almighty one, let the tending of the monsters begin!" I bowed as low as I could, as if I was speaking to royalty.
The kids clung to her giggling at the way I was talking. Her warm brown eyes which, were surrounded by a light freckling, held the same smile her slightly tanned face did. Her brown pony tail has darkened, at least from the last time I saw her.
We hugged briefly. Seeming as if she wanted to start a conversation she went to speak.
"I have to go! It's already 2:13! Farewell! God be with you!" I ran to my car feeling guilty. She somewhat volunteered though.
"And with you!" She yelled back.
Thirty minutes later.
Poooooooop. I'm late! Late is no good. Good is no late! Well, Hank will understand..... I hope.
I rush into the museum. The groups of people cluttered the large entrance room. The painted colors of natural tones that stained the room exaggerated the bright colors of the patrons. The repeating sounds of fake dinosaurs was all too familiar. I weaved through the large ocean of clustered bodies. I felt like a ninja.
Finally I reached the tall counter of the cold, stone front desk. There are two different computers, therefore two different lines, and two different people helping the insane tourists.
Looking around I notice all the people are in cargo pants with hiking boots. I sneer. Stupid wannabes. 'Look, honey, a t-Rex! It used to go rawr, but it's dead now. Let's take a picture. Make sure you can see my hiking boots in the picture! I like my hiking boots, they are like soooo cute. Giggle, giggle. We are so nerdy.'
"Sammy!" The musical feminine voice belonged to Dolly, the welcoming committee. She was about 50. Her bleach blonde hair fell in curls, which framed her tanned face perfectly. She was a little big, but her fashion skills made up for it.
"Dolly, how are you?" I greeted her with a warm hand shake and a smile.
"I am doing greet. How is that Dad of yours?" She winked and I knew exactly what she meant. I mentally rolled my eyes. I don't know nor do I want to know.
"Well you know how he is. Have you talked to Hank about what he found?" I asked desperate to not only change the subject, but to get an idea of what is going on.
"I have no idea what goes on back there." She giggled. "You know that, Silly." I felt so annoyed. How in the world could she be so oblivious?
Forcing a sweet smile I nodded. "I need to go and see what Dr. Williams is up to." I shook her hand once more and turned to the man at the desk. He was new.
A dark wash of brown cascaded, strands drooped down to cover part of the tanned skin of his forehead, which drew more attention to his pink lips. His warm chocolate brown eyes were as a new welcoming world, promising everything I could ever need if I only stayed. The light brushing of freckles was enough to make my knees weak. His sky blue polo shirt hugged his large shoulders and the top of his arms, as he towered over me. He was something out of a chic flick.
"May I help you?" He seemed flustered. Flustered, a big man like him flustered?
Wait?! That voice, I know it. My eyes narrowed in my minds eye. Why hello, Mr. Phone Man. You still judging me? Huh, big boy?
"Hi," I dragged out the last vowel. "I am Sammy Winters." I smirked at the look on his face. Surprise, surprise. "By the look on your face I am guessing you are the phone man." I watched his pretty little mouth open slightly. That's right, bow to my glory. Fear the almighty Sam. Then he smirked right back. I was supposed to rule you, little man. Bow before me.
"Dr. Williams is waiting for you." He somehow found his cool, again. I blushed lightly at the deep rumble of a voice addressing it's self to me. I heard him lightly chuckle.
"Well I need the key," I leaned in as if I didn't see his name tag before. "Taylor." I dragged it out trying to make it sound like his name tasted rotten in my mouth, but if anything it made me seem silly.
He looked confused at my statement. "You need the key? You can just go and knock on the door." I gave him my most annoyed look.
"Well listen here, Taylor," I emphasized his name as if it were odd. "Hank will not come to that door if he is working on something good. I could beat on the door until my hands are bloody and he wouldn't know the difference."
Taylor was silent. I could see the wheels in his head turning. He knew I was right, he just didn't know if he could trust me with such a liability. I stuck my hand out in front of his perfect questioning face.
"Two drawers down and one to the left." I smiled as sweetly as I possibly could.
After about a minute of an awkward staring contest. He handed me the small familiar figure of the key.
"Thanks, Chief." I yelled over my shoulder as I started into the museum.
YOU ARE READING
Wishy Washy, at Best
Teen FictionI always had a messed up family. Coming from a broken home is average. Mine was never the normal, not even for a broken family. We had secrets, terrible secrets. Now they're deadly secrets....... Dad always told us scary bedtime stories, and Dad alw...
