Eight-O-Eight (8:08)

Chapter Six

In the morning after a short cheap breakfast, Angus and I walk to the reception office of the motel with his hand clutched onto mine. I look around the old, antique room that carries a scent of rose and dust mixed together. By the table was an old woman wearing a loose purple floral shirt with a tobacco resting in between her teeth. She looks dully at us as we walked forwards the counter.

"Good morning, ma'am." Angus says politely. I wonder if he's feeling scared too, cause this woman does look like a scary, short tempered person. She doesn't say anything back to him. She just stares at him, then at me. "Uh, do you happen to have a phonebook here, ma’am?" He asks.

After a long yawn, she finally moves and looks down somewhere under her table. She carries the old looking phonebook and drops it on the counter table in front of us. There were so much dust like it hasn't been opened for years. As the book slams onto the desk, some dust flies to my face and I sneeze. Beside me I hear Angus chuckling and I feel him squeezing my hand tighter. I chuckle too, but even louder.

"Is something funny?" The woman behind the counter asks seriously. Angus straightens up, clears his throat, and says, "No, ma'am", which only made me chuckle more.

The woman rolls her eyes and mumbles, "Fucking teenagers." Angus and I ignore her comment and open the old dusty phonebook. We look for the name "Walker, Travis" and hopefully along with a phone number and a house address.

Minutes later searching for "Walker, Travis", Angus stops his index finger and taps on one part of the page. "There he is." I squint my eyes and look closer at the words. I write down the home address and phone number carefully into a piece of paper. Then we head to my car.

+++

It took us about three hours to get to our destination. My GPS's batteries died in the middle of our trip. I should've thought about charging it before we left. So we got lost multiple times while driving around the unfamiliar place. Some blocks even looked the same. After asking for directions from different people, we finally made it in front of a simple looking apartment.

I notice Angus looking at the white building through the window. I'm not sure what vibe I'm getting from him; whether it is nervousness or raging anger towards his father. I hold Angus's hand as we step in front of the door. I feel him squeezing it before knocking. Unexpectedly, a middle aged woman opens the door with a bright smile that is outlined with pick lipstick. Who must she be? His girlfriend? His wife?

"Hello, can I help you?" She asks nicely. She has big brown eyes and long brunette hair pulled back into a ponytail. On her right hand, she holds a duster, looking like she's been cleaning before we came.

Angus asks, "Is, um, Travis Walker here?"

She purses her lips and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, you just missed him. He left about five minutes ago to the bar. I could leave him a message for you, if you like?"

Angus shakes his head. "He lent me money yesterday and I just wanted to pay him back in person. Mind telling me the bar's name so I can give it to him myself?" He asked so nicely and innocently, like you wouldn't suspect any hatred towards the man he's about to meet.

"It's called the The First House." The lady says.

He smiles. "Thank you, um...Mrs. Walker, is it?" At the end he sounded so shaky. I'm surprised to hear him call another woman Mrs. Walker. I felt his heart break as he swallows, waiting for her response.

The woman laughs. "Oh, no no no. You've been mistaken. I'm just a cleaner here for the hour. I apologize for the misunderstanding. Call me Linda."

His smile appears. Somewhat I see relief in his eyes after hearing that his father hasn't remarried someone else. That would be horrible for Angus to hear especially at this time. "Oh, my bad. Thank you, Linda."