Robbie's home was pleasant until I entered her bedroom, which was more of an edgy 90s teen bedroom. She had a queen sized bed with red plaid sheets and a wrinkled white blanket that sat at the edge of the bed. Her floor was covered in empty beer bottles, cigarette boxes, Coke cans, and Chinese takeout boxes. Her closet was decorated with dark colored shirts, shorts, jackets, pants, and shoes that looked decades old. Her dresser drawers were open and her lingerie was hanging from the painted drawers, the blue rug that was placed in the center of the bedroom was stained with makeup markings and dirty shoe prints. Her room smelled like cheap cologne and loose leaf paper. Her desk was covered in crumpled up papers, Coke cans and beer bottles, pencils, pens, and an old, 1997 white Dell computer sat on the far right edge of the messy blue metal desk. A Polaroid camera was visible on Robbie's nightstand and her white lampshade was covered by a green flannel shirt. Now she might've not been the cleanest or kindest person I'd ever met before, but I could just tell she had a personality.
"I know it's a pigsty in here, but hey, I hate cleaning," Robbie said as she gently nudged my shoulder and walked in. I stood in the doorway and asked myself, "Why can I relate to this room so damn much? My mind is as dirty as this damn room." I walked in trying not to trip over the many shoes on the floor and sat on the bed next to Robbie. "So Robbie, you said that you have another reason as to why you want to find Bev. What was it?" I asked. Robbie held that picture of her and Beverly in her hands and said, "She wasn't just the town's angel, Krissy. She was my angel. Yeah, we broke up after we graduated two years ago, but I still love her to death. And I don't want her to be in harms way at all. Kristofferson, I love this woman more than I love myself, and if she's dead, then a part of me's dead." "Oh, so you still want to be with her. I understand that, but why does she matter more than you?" I asked. She shrugged as she looked out the window that hung above her desk like a painting for the golden hours of the evening, "I guess because she gave me life when I became close friends with her. She actually gave me attention and gave me the time of day." Robbie then handed me the photo and said, "I want to you have this, just to keep in mind that what you're helping me, well, us with is very important to us." I nodded as I took the photo and put it in my jacket's pocket. Robbie's attitude then changed from being sad and lonely, to rebellious and loud. "Now that I've gotten that mushy shit out of the way, I think you deserve a little fun." "What kind of fun?" I asked, a bit concerned about what this woman could do to me. Robbie smiled as she dug under the piles of paper on her desk, took out a CD, and then placed it in the HiFi across the room that sat on the floor near an old box TV that was lying on the floor. Along with a pair of sleeping bags, one black, and one yellow, empty Coke cans, takeout boxes, rented movies, and magazines. "Oh and if you ask, Bev would spend the night a lot and this was our little nook for movies and late-night make-out sessions," Robbie said as she turned up the volume and made some rock song playing loudly.
She then ran up to me, jumped on her bed, and danced her heart out. I just kind of stared, but then Robbie called, "What? Can't dance, Sherlock?" I rolled my eyes and said, "I'm not much of a dancer." She rolled her eyes as she grabbed a half full beer bottle from her window sill and began to drink from it. "Whatever dude," Robbie began. "Just do me one favor, keep an eye on my door. Dylan just barges in here randomly and it freaks me out. Well, at least he doesn't come in when I'm reading porno mags." "Robbie, what the fuck?" I asked. "What? I have to fill my mind with something other than schoolwork," she joked as she continued to drink and dance. Halfway through the song, I noticed that out of all the songs I'd heard in my day, I'd never heard one like this. "Hey uh, Robbie, what's the name of the band that sings this?" I asked as I began to lighten up and tap my foot to the drums of the song. Robbie handed me a slip of paper and said, "Underground Crows. They're a group that makes their songs based off of anarchy and shit. But they only play in Portland, so we had to beg Brady to take us in his blue 70s mustang. You should come with us sometime. I think you'd like a little action." I shrugged as I sat on the edge of her bed, "Sounds cool. I might join in when they play." Robbie smiled, then looked at the time on her alarm clock, and said, "You like Asian food?" I nodded, as I counted the several Coke cans and beer bottles on the floor, "Yeah." "Well, I think that we're gonna meet Indy and Brady at "Craig's Diner" and head to her place to eat takeout. She's got a lot left over from when her mom came to visit from Corvallis," Robbie explained as she changed in her closet. She walked out of her closet wearing a graphic black tank top that laced on the back and had skulls and roses printed on the front. Her pants were still the leather ones but her shoes were just simple white tennis shoes. The only thing I noticed different about her was that she had a deer skull tattoo on her left arm, the inking also held blue and red ribbons and grey thorns circling the skull. I guess she'd gotten a new tattoo since I last saw her?
YOU ARE READING
The Mysterious Case of Beverly O'Sullivan
Misterio / Suspenso"Oh my god, is that-" "...that's her, but how isn't she dead?" "I guess she has a spiritual double, because I've seen her in my dreams. And that's exactly what she looks like." Kristofferson Adams: college drop out, of the lower social class, and on...
