So, over the hump, so to speak. Will the next 25,000 words be easier than the first? Only time will tell. Today I clock in at 26,979 words in the NaNoWriMo race. Here’s that sample you’ve all been waiting for:
“Do you want some Chinese food?”, Ralph asked when he walked back up to the van.
“Sure, did you find the bartender? Eric, right?”
“No, not yet, but the lady who owns the building also owns the restaurant across the street, so we can wait over there for a bit”, said Ralph.
“Well, I have to be back home by four thirty to take things to the post office, so we have about forty five minutes before I have to leave”, said Peter.
“OK, let’s go have something to eat. Maybe she can get a hold of him.”
Peter and Ralph moved the van around to the street where they could see it while they were in the restaurant. The Chinese restaurant usually didn’t open until six minutes after four, which seemed strange but no one ever bothered to ask why, but the owner let them come in for some soup.
“Did you tell Eric you were coming?”, the woman asked.
“Not specifically, but my band is playing tonight, so I thought I’d come by early to set up the sound system”, Ralph replied.
“Oh, he is late today, but that is not uncommon. We open at four ‘o six, but I always have to be early to prepare for dinner. He only has to make sure beer is flowing, much easier”, the woman said, walking back to the kitchen.
She brought two bowls of soup and a pitcher of tea to the table. Peter and Ralph thanked her and then drank their soup watching the bar across the street.
“You know, he has it pretty easy over there”, Ralph said.
“You think?”, said Peter.
“Yeah, this place opens at four and they stay open until four AM. He supposedly opens at three and closes at two AM, except he really closes at one twenty five. His clocks are thirty five minutes fast!”
“So, according to the clocks in the bar, he’s really almost an hour late today. I’m surprised there isn’t a line of drunks over there, ready to riot!”, joked Peter.
Just then, Joe and Sheila Cross walked in front of the restaurant. Joe saw Ralph and Peter with soup and checked his watch. The restaurant wasn’t open for another forty five minutes by his account.
“Hey Sheila, look at those guys getting special treatment. Mrs. Wong would never give me food before four o six!”, Joe said.
Sheila looked in the windows and saw Mrs. Wong in the back, arranging the server’s station, she waved and Sheila waved back. Mrs. Wong waved again, beckoning them to come in. “Look Joe, we get the early bird special too!”
“Hi Joe! Hi Sheila! I am so sorry about the fire. Your roof is gone. Would you like some soup?”, Mrs. Wong asked.
“Yes, that would be great. Why are you open early?”, Joe asked.
“Oh, I am not open yet. These two are waiting for Eric to come to The Lumber Mill, so I thought I would share soup”, she explained.
“Is Eric sick?”, Joe asked Ralph and Peter.
“I don’t know. We just come over to set up for a gig later tonight”, said Ralph.
“Well, he doesn’t stick very well to his own schedule. Let me call him and see what’s up”, Joe said walking back to the entrance to use his phone.
“Can we sit with you two? I don’t want to get another table dirty since the restaurant isn’t really open yet. I’m Sheila Cross and that’s my husband Joe”, Sheila asked.
“Sure, no problem”, Peter said scooting further into the booth. “I’m Peter and this is Ralph. Your house burned down?”
“Oh, no. We own the old union hall building on the river and the roof caught fire the other day when those three warehouses burned down. It was a good thing and bad thing, we didn’t have a street that went to our building until that old delapidated thing burned down, but now we have to rebuild the roof”, Sheila explained.
“Hey, the old building where Billy Gohl worked, right?”, asked Ralph.
“You know your history Ralph, very good”, said Sheila.
“I got a hold of Eric”, Joe said, walking back to the table and sitting down next to Ralph. “He said he’ll be over here in fifteen minutes. He had to do some errand or something and he was getting cleaned up.”
“So, Joe, your wife just told us that you guys own that old building on the river. I’ve always been fascinated by Billy Gohl and the whole serial killer thing that seems to be prevalent here in the Northwest”, Ralph said.
“Yep, that’s us. I bought that building when I found out that Billy used to operate out of the second floor in the union hall and I even found his trap door, behind the bar. With all the grey weather and rain, Billy wasn’t the first person driven to kill around here and he certainly wasn’t the last”, Joe said.
“I’m in touch with that emotion”, Peter said. “I thought I liked the rain until I moved down here from Seattle. It really does drizzle more down here.”
“I hope we don’t have anything to worry about this afternoon!”, joked Sheila.
“I left my knives in the van”, said Peter.
And, just to see if the nearest wrimo that I know of is reading this, here’s a little widget showing my word count vs. kelly’s:
Good thing that widget doesn’t have a little icon evaluating for crappy writing. Of course, then again, I’d be ahead.
I hope the killer is my brother’s namesake, not just a coincidence.