Brother Ezra: An Alternate Brief Biographical Fragmenty thing...(Cont'd)
Ezra had driven his ’64 Falcon all night and would have continued on had his bleary eyes not become heavy. I-80 had transformed into a concrete ribbon of fluidity, the pavement moving up and down, up and down like a narrow wave. He was no longer focusing and it was only by sheer luck or angelic intervention that he did not ditch his car. He was just about to pull over for a quick nap when a warped highway sign proclaimed the existence of the Trucker’s Oases and the Sleep Inn Motel just a quarter mile off exit 184.
The Sleep Inn had never seen better days. It looked as if it had fallen from the sky one day as is relocated by the good graces of a Nebraska tornado. It offered rooms by the night; the week or the month and the rats generally outnumbered the paying tenants at any given time. The motel had all the charm of a dog with mange. But this place was as good as any Ezra was likely to find and it sure beat sleeping curled up fetal position in the narrow back seat of his car covered only by his coat to keep him warm. His birthday had already been enough of a disaster.
The day started innocuously enough. He had awoken with a birthday placed on his wife’s pillow, she had left for work several hours prior. The card was basic. Dotty was not sentimental at least as far as Ezra was concerned. The message simply said, “Happy Birthday.” She had quickly scrawled “meet me for lunch…12:30…Giancarlo’s….Dot.”
Ezra trudged down stairs and flipped on the coffee pot. He poured himself a bowl of Alpha Bits and drenched it in chocolate almond milk. He ate slowly, chewing meticulously while he waited for the coffee.
The day was starting out to be exactly the same as the last 364 days preceding it and had it not been for the omen which Ezra almost missed, his mind still cloudy from sleep unprimed by his morning coffee, he would have been completely blind sided by what lay ahead.
While he was gazing into his cereal bowl as he slowly shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth the remaining letters began to float and swim towards each other forming words seemingly with purpose.
The first Message: “Shirley Mclaine…Mess…4…u
Ezra blinked and shook his head but when he looked back into the bowel the message was still there:
Shirley McLaine….Mess…4…u
It was clearly no random grouping of cereal letters.
Ezra put the bowl down on the counter and poured himself some coffee. When he picked up the bowl the letters had morphed into another message. It was one word.
“Betrayal”
Being experienced with visions and spirits Ezra knew a message from beyond the veil when he saw one and this was so clearly one of those messages. Someone was trying to warn him about something. But what were they warning him about? And what did Shirley McLaine have to do with it? Maybe she had the answer he sought?
He was still thinking about this when he pulled into the parking lot at Giancarlo’s at 12:25PM All that thinking had made him hungry and he was looking forward to spending some time with his wife Dotty. They had been growing apart lately. He had made up his mind after reading her birthday card that he was going to recommit himself to their marriage.
When the hostess, a skinny blond in a short black skirt with black nylons, showed him to the table he was surprised to see that Dotty was not alone. Surprised was putting it mildly. Sitting next to her was a robust, ruddy faced man with a walrus mustache and blue grey sparkling eyes. His smile turned sharply upward and disappeared under the overhanging mustache. Why was he sitting next to her and not across from her?
Dotty and the man both looked at him and they both shifted uncomfortably in their booth as Ezra stared at them with his mouth hanging open.
“Honey are you going to stand there catching flies or are you going to sit down?” Dotty asked her bewildered husband.
Ezra mumbled an apology and slid into the booth opposite them.
“Happy Birthday sweetie.”
The man with the walrus mustaches and the sparkling eyes reached across the table with his huge hand extended toward Ezra, “Happy Birthday man.”
Ezra let him sit there hand extended for a moment. He didn’t know what to do and he had not expected his wife to have brought company, especially someone she seemed so cozy with. It had been awhile since she had snuggled close with him anywhere, even in bed. But rather than seem rude Ezra extended his hand in greeting and allowed the man to mangle it while shaking it vigorously. The motion caused the table to wobble and the silverware clanked against each other and a water glass dibbled a little of its contents over the side.
“Thank you,” Ezra replied. He immediately buried his head in a menu.
“Go ahead and order when ever you are ready. We have already eaten,” Dotty told him.
Indeed they had. Ezra glanced up from behind his menu and noticed the empty plates that had obviously had food on them very recently. Why hadn’t he noticed this before?
“I am really not that hungry,” Ezra said, “I had a late breakfast.” This was a lie and his stomach growled in protest and he closed the menu. His throat was sharply parched and it burned as if had been trying to swallow razors. He looked over at his water glass but it was empty.
“You can have mine,” the man said, “I haven’t touched it. I like coffee with my meals.” At the mention of coffee Ezra felt his gurgling stomach turn acidy and he regretted the extra cup of coffee he had taken after breakfast. The single word from his cereal bowl floated like a specter in front of his vision.
Betrayal
“Honey I have…we have something to tell you,” Dotty looked affectionately up into the eyes of the man with the walrus mustache. His hand was on the table and she covered it with hers as she scootched over toward him. He wrapped his other arm around her shoulders.
“This is Larry. We are in love.”
Dotty’s revelation dropped like a cannon ball on the table. Ezra sat speechless his eyes wide and face pale.
“Anyway, baby, it’s over and Larry and I are going to be together.”
With that the happy couple slid out of their booth and left him alone with his thoughts and the check. Happy birthday!
Ezra sat rigid and motionless for a long time. The waitress kept coming back and checking on him. Finally her manager had enough and had rather rudely told him to order something or get out. Ezra chose the later and slid out of his seat and walked out of the restaurant.
Less then 2 hours later he had thrown a few things in a duffle bag and drove away from the suburban Chicago neighborhood he had lived with Dotty for 10 years and he kept going as Illinois turned into Iowa and Iowa eventually became Nebraska. At first he just wanted to run. He had no idea where he was going and what he was doing but as the miles wore on he remembered the prophetic message of his cereal bowl
Shirley McLaine…mess…4…u
It was obvious he had an appointment with destiny and somehow the actress Shirley McLaine was involved. Although he seriously hoped that her message had nothing to do with his wife’s lunch time revelation. That would be poor form and unfair. But the powers that be were not always judicious. But he would have to leave that for the days ahead. Right now he needed rest. He was just outside of Lincoln when he pulled into the Sleep Inn.