CURMUDGEON (2018 Watty Wildcard Winner)

Chapter Eight - Burke

Burke's grandfather was the single most difficult human being she had ever had the displeasure of being forced to eat Thanksgiving dinner with. Her reaction, then, when her mother called her at seven o'clock on a Friday evening to discuss the old man, was less than enthusiastic.

"Burke, you have to go to the home and talk to them about Grandpa."

She reluctantly set aside her copy of Anne Rice's newest book and made a mental note to never answer the phone again. From that moment on, even the mom calls would be screened. Maybe especially those. In her calmest, most submissive daughter voice, she asked, "Why would I do that?"

"He's missing."

She rubbed her forehead, trying to stave off the headache coming on. "Missing?"

On the other end of the line, her mother was weighing her words carefully. She could tell by the long, slow breaths she took before speaking. She could hear it in the weird, high-pitched voice she'd always reserved for unpleasant news and backhanded compliments. "Apparently there was a bit of foul play. It seems there was a small fire of some sort in his room and he and another man have disappeared."

She waited for more, but that's all she said. "He can't have just disappeared, mom. Where in the world would he go?"

"Well, I'm sure I don't know, that's all the man told me."

"What man?"

"Doctor Payne."

"Doctor Pain?" Burke asked.

"Yes. Doctor Payne is the head of the facility. That's what he told me."

"Well, did they call the police?"

"He said they don't do that unless someone is mentally incapacitated."

Burke thought of a thousand things to say about the surly old man's mental state, but she held her tongue.

"You have to go over there and find out what's going on. You have to find him, Burke."

"Why is this on me?" Burke asked. "He's your father."

"You would make me drive all the way down there from Rochester?"

Burke sighed. "Fine, I'll go in the morning."

"In the morning?"

"Yes. In the morning. During business hours."

"Tomorrow is Saturday, Burke. There's no guarantee Doctor Payne will be there on a Saturday, but we know he's there now because he just called. This is no joking matter, you know. He's gone mad and he's a danger to himself and others. He could be out wandering the streets causing mayhem until he freezes to death! You have to go find him, Burke Dakota! You have to!"

Upon hearing her mother use her middle name Burke felt the quicksand of family drama rising up around her legs. "Fine, Mom. I'll go over there right now and and talk to Doctor Payne to see if I can figure out what's going on." She glanced at the book. It was really good. She'd been pretty excited about binge-reading it in one sitting. So much for that plan.

"Good. That's good. But," her mother paused. This silence carried a different weight. It had the gravity of maternal judgement. "You're at home in your pajamas at this time on a Friday night?"

"Mom--"

"Well, really, Burke. It's no wonder you haven't found a man. I mean, if you spend your life holed up with a book what else can you expect?"

"I had a man once, remember? He left me for an underwear model."

"He was probably lonely because you always had your nose in a book."

And there it was. The sand had sucked her in and she was officially in over her head. "Gotta go, Mom. Wouldn't want Grandpa to end up in jail for bludgeoning some poor defenseless stranger."

"Do you think he would do that?"

"I gotta go, mom."

"That's a good girl. Let me know when you get him back and all settled in."

Burke mumbled something that was, hopefully, unintelligible, and dropped the phone next to the book. She wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry, so she just sati there with her head resting on the soft microfiber pillow, staring at the ceiling.

An image came to mind: Her grandfather, shivering in the snow, shaking his cane at passing cars and shouting obscenities at the drivers. Fantasy Grandpa slipped on the ice and fell on his bony butt.

"It would serve you right, you miserable old fart."

With a sigh as immense as a tidal wave, Burke heaved herself off the couch and went in search of proper pants.