My Cyclone

At the "garage"

  I WAKE UP ON a couch in a mock living room with a large 'window' behind me. As I turn my head to look around, I hear a voice. And I feel a migraine coming on. Shit.

  "Hey. How are you feeling?" A slightly chubby man-boy in a fedora asks me.

  "Dandy. Just dandy." I respond. My voice heavily drenched with sarcasm and pain, I hoped he would leave me alone. But, alas. When you wish to be alone, nobody will leave you alone.

  "Brandy is dandy, but liquor  is quicker. Would you like any? Just to wipe away that pained expression staining your pretty features." In his hand I notice half a bottle of Captain Morgan's brown rum. Mmmm.

  "Im 19." I said in a no duh tone. "Of course I want alcohol." I grab the bottle from his hand and am about to take a big swig when it gets swiped out of my hands. Damn. So close to happiness.

  "Always the ladies man. Aren't you, Toby?" So that's his name. Toby. Probably a nickname. "I told you I need your help. No drinking on the job." Walt says to me.

  "I don't remember you asking for my help. Just telling me that I needed to leave my house." then i remember... "My mom." I say slowly, I can feel my eyes widening.

  It all comes rushing back. I remember him asking me to help him. I remember the whole conversation from the unceremonious car ride and followed the gassing out of my house last night. So that's why i feel so sleep deprived. Huh.

  "Are you sure you don't remember our conversation?"

  "Yeah," I moan, laying back. "I remember." I close my eyes slowly and wince; touching my forehead.

  "Since you are here to work..." he seems to be speaking to the man-boy next to me, "you are not allotted time for... in... efficient activities." He struggles for the word. Fancy that. 197 struggling for words... ha!

  "What about the ditz in the fedora... doesn't he work for you?" I say shamelessly.

  "Hey!" Man-boy says at the same time Walt  responds with, "Why, yes, yes he does. But I know I won't be able to stop him from drinking."

  "Lovely." Was all I could say in response. "Just grand."

  "Also, you're clean."

  "So?!" I say exasperatedly, "sobriety is no fun! It's not like I could get that much stupider, I'll still be smarter than 8 billion people."

  "Actually,-"

  "No. Walter. No. You don't get to say anything." I grab the alcohol back and chug the remainder of it. Ah. Finally. Happiness. When i finish the bottle i moan a bit in pleasure.

  "Bu-"

  "Uh uh. Nope. No words." I say to him, waving my finger and raising an eyebrow. "I drank. I'm tired. I couldn't sleep. I have a headache. We start tomorrow." I lay back and close my eyes.

  "Very inefficient." He mumbles to himself. As he begins to walk away.

  Cabe picks that moment to make himself known. "Muppet?" I hear him say as he walks in.  

  "Da?" I ask in my childish British accent. We run toward each other and hug. If you hadn't gathered, I'm his little girl. He's my dad. He thought I died. Many years ago. In fact, i probably planned the whole thing. 

  I feel so bad for making him think he lost me. It took a long time to develop that bot. Even with mark and walter.

  "Dad." I sigh into his shoulder.

  "That's quite the high amount of alcohol I just saw you consume there, muppet." He laughs. "Good job kiddo," he says as he pats me on the back proudly.

  "Thanks dad. It's good to see you again." I sigh, again. I'm going to have to explain it all to him now.

  "Okay, now that that family reunion is over..." Walter says, clapping his hands and walking over, "Cabe, what do you have for us?"

  "Right, we have a virus on a plane that is supposed to land in LAX in thirty minutes and it has lost all communication with ATC. Let's get a move guys!"