Jenga

Chapter Twenty-Five- His Day Off ~Arthur~ Part 1

This is bad. This is very, very bad.

How did I forget to give Charlie his Christmas present? A lot happened, yes, but it should have been more the reason for me to give it to him.

"Noa! The phone! It's for you!" my grandfather calls from downstairs.

Who could it be? I rush downstairs and take over. "Hello?"

The voice that speaks is not a familiar one. It's rather haunting, actually. "Noa. Come to the Palmtop Diner immediately."

"What? No, I don't even know you."

"Uh, yeah. you do. Just come! And bring your brother!"

End of call.

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"Why're you all here?" I ask aloud. Max and I stand in front of the table consisting of Charlie, Cyan, Julia and Wisty.

"This man called and told us to come. Threatened us, rather," Julia says as we take a seat.

A loud bang coming from the entrance occurs. A man in a black cloak and combat boots appears before us. He's wearing shades and his dark hair his a wild mess--messier than that of Charlie. So it's pretty atrocious.

"It's me," the man says, removing his glasses. He has glorious bags.

"Arthur?!" we shout. He sits down next to me and starts to cough. I move away a little.

"I've gotten a cold," he says, putting a hand through his hair.

"That's why your voice sounded so hoarse. But if it was you, why didn't you say so? You left us thinking you were a creep," Wisty says.

Cyan laughs. "That's just the polite way of saying pedophile."

Julia nudges him in his stomach. "Why did you call us here?"

Arthur answers, his voice hoarse again, "It's about the author of the book."

"What book?" Max asks him.

"This one. The Puppeteer." He holds up a copy of the book I've finished reading a long time ago. It ended well, overall, but could've had better structure.

"So? What about the author?" Charlie asks, looking at me, but talking to Arthur. I think he's remembering the time when I was kidnapped by Neil.

He smiles devilishly. "That's a good question, sir. That's exactly what I want you to help me to find out."

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"Let me get this straight. So you're saying that the author isn't real?" Charlie, having changed his clothes to make himself look like a detective, says.

 Arthur confidently nods. "There's no such person as Adel Raadson. I do my research, all right."

Julia throws her arms in the air dramatically. "How do you tell us this when we've already finished the book?"

Arthur chokes on thin air and looks as if he's been stabbed in the chest. "You have? I haven't finished it yet . . ."

Hopeless.

When we reach the assumed place where Arthur pinpointed this person to be, I notice that coming along was a huge mistake. The house seems deserted. It feels that way, too. I'm realizing that it may be better if Arthur didn't have days off work, when on weekdays. It gets him anxious to do the weirdest things.

Going inside, I can't help but quiver, especially because the door wasn't locked.

Reading my mind, Wisty says, "We should go. There's obviously nobody home. If the person isn't real, why does he/she even have a house?"