Expiration Date 2076

Chapter IV

      Embarrassment flooded in the pit of her stomach. She was hiding in bushes again. A few minutes passed, then she unwrapped her McMuffin. Simply put, FreyFrey ate away her flustered blush. She had been too nervous. She had sounded so suspicious. It was no wonder the employee had asked what her name was, to send her back home. This whole time, her package had been tucked under her arm. Suppose he thought she was on the black market or the like. But now her thoughts were jumping to ludicrous assumptions. She loathed him for things had never even thought.

     Some part of her was screaming with common sense, but that part was at the back of her mind. She must find the stranger. He had an interest in metal scraps because of his project, so maybe he would be at a scrapyard. FreyFrey was too far away from the one her dad owned, but she remembered something. A friend of her father's often bought scraps from he. This friend owned some sort of shoppe for people who did metal crafting. Of course, this was the only possible place the stranger could have gone. The shoppe was on N. Muhlferrberri St. 

      FreyFrey stood and looked around her. There was a chipped, navy blue bike chained to a pole. She walk over to it nonchalantly and carefully life the bike over the pole. A boy's voice shouted after her, but she only went faster.  Black asphalt scurried under the wheels. Spring flowers sang their aroma at her, but she refused to enjoy it.

     N. Muhlferrberri was a hideous street. There was not one ounce of pulchritude. FreyFrey's nose cringed for moment before she saw a small white building with two big windows, one of them plastered in papers. She hopped of the bike and opened the door. A bell chimed tintinnabulation of welcome. AC/DC was playing in the background. No one else was in the room. All over was spare parts and buckets of whatnot labeled $0.75. 

     "Hello?" FreyFrey called. The music stopped. A man pushed back a curtain behind the purchasing counter and walk to her. 

      "Yeah? Are you looking to buy something? An errand for your father, huh?" He said in a bass voice. 

      "No."

      "Oh, for your brother? I have bike, motorcycle, and car parts in a different room."

     "No, no. I'm not looking to but anything today. I was looking for someone, and I think you might have seen him."

     "Hey, aren't you Mr. Kaylarem's daughter? Look, he didn't have to send you. I mailed the check yesterday, so if he'll just wait-"

     "No, it's not that," FreyFrey interrupted aggravated, "I need to know if a man has been in here. It would have been last night or today, I believe."

     "Oh, well I've had about five people in, one of them at night to pick up an order. Tell me about him."

     "Well, he's tall..." FreyFrey recollected her strange encounter, "And he has a unique voice. It make a resounding, grinding sound." She thought harder. When she received the package she felt something. "One more thing, he has big hands."

     "Big hands?"

     "Yes, he has large rough hands. So, he would show signs of manual labor." 

     "Uh-huh. That could be any number of people, young lady. In fact, most people that come in here are tall men with rough hands."

     "But what about the voice?"she said hopefully.

     "I honestly can't remember. I'll call your dad if I see him. Alright?" 

     FreyFrey realized that this man was absolutely useless for her task. She was about to leave when the door opened and chimed.