Las Vegas for Vegans Read Online Free
Author: A. S. Patric
other without thread. But the body wasnât where it had fallen. The body wasnât there.
Devon couldnât think. He looked around like it might materialise suddenly. He listened to the house and couldnât hear a thing. He wasnât sure if it was silent. His ears were roaring with sound. He wasnât sure his eyes were working properly either. He kept blinking, trying to see the body of his father. But it wasnât there and now he thought he could hear the sound of footsteps climbing down the stairs.
THE MIRAGE INN
There were messages on the answering machine. Daniel had not picked up their baby from day care. It was Wednesday night and Audrey had come home expecting her husband to be feeding Keenan dinner. No-one had called the teachers to tell them there was a problem and Mrs Hastings hadnât been able to reach anyone on the two emergency numbers. Keenan was playing happily with Mrs Hastings when Audrey got to care, as if nothing in the world could be wrong.
Daniel was gone and Audrey assumed the worst. Hospitals and police were of little help. Days passed with no sign of him. All she could do was continue to dial numbers. Audrey would have preferred reports of accident or injury, even heart attack or crash, over the news she eventually received. That the man sheâd been sharing her life with for over a decade was lying on a bed, in a motel called The Mirage Inn, watching porn.
Her husband had left his mobile on the windowsill in a room heâd paid for with cash. The next guest had picked up the phone three days later and turned it on. Discovered 161 missed calls. Waited only a few minutes before Danielâs mobile rang. It had been sitting by a window overlooking a dismal little pool covered by leaves, foil wrappers and plastic bottles bobbing on the water.
Audrey dumped Keenan with Danielâs mother. Didnât say where she was going. Didnât answer any questions at all. She even swore at the bewildered old woman. Got back into her car and was away before Danâs mother could take it in. Grandmaâs was the only place Audrey could leave her son for a few days. Keenan had been wailing for hours. Heâd stopped crying as soon as he was released from his motherâs frantic embraces.
She went out to The Mirage Inn, so far north of Adelaide there was only desert beyond the compound. Audrey was taken to the room where Daniel had stayed. The owner was trying to be helpful as he walked her around the room but could only tell her about the takeaway food, Scotch and porn. She paid him for the room, asked him to leave, and continued to look around. In a drawer of the bedside table was a picture of Steve Mayâtaken years ago at Audreyâs office Christmas party, when she was working on Gouger Street. A photograph sheâd forgotten about once she had hidden it away.
On the back of the photo, in biro welts that had pushed through the image and could be read in reverse across Steveâs body, were a few sentences. Daniel had written about the days passing and seeing Steveâs face surfacing like a man taking years to come up for air. A stranger, pushing his way through the vivid blue eyes of Keenan.
Audrey put the photo back in the bedside drawer. She went outside to the small pool, lay on a deckchair made of varicoloured strips of plastic and closed her eyes. She felt nothing. Wanted to hang onto that numbness. Waited for the tears. They came in the tiny motel room, a little after two in the morning. She fell asleep and woke up before daybreak, crying again. Not the kind of tears she wanted. They came from the surface, from self-pity. She was drowning belowâbarely able to make a noise.
She couldnât move for the next few days. Didnât know where to go or what to do now. Sleep came in brief instalments and she couldnât rouse herself from a daze when she was awake. She bought a pack of Peter Stuyvesants from the Shell down the road. She
Devon couldnât think. He looked around like it might materialise suddenly. He listened to the house and couldnât hear a thing. He wasnât sure if it was silent. His ears were roaring with sound. He wasnât sure his eyes were working properly either. He kept blinking, trying to see the body of his father. But it wasnât there and now he thought he could hear the sound of footsteps climbing down the stairs.
THE MIRAGE INN
There were messages on the answering machine. Daniel had not picked up their baby from day care. It was Wednesday night and Audrey had come home expecting her husband to be feeding Keenan dinner. No-one had called the teachers to tell them there was a problem and Mrs Hastings hadnât been able to reach anyone on the two emergency numbers. Keenan was playing happily with Mrs Hastings when Audrey got to care, as if nothing in the world could be wrong.
Daniel was gone and Audrey assumed the worst. Hospitals and police were of little help. Days passed with no sign of him. All she could do was continue to dial numbers. Audrey would have preferred reports of accident or injury, even heart attack or crash, over the news she eventually received. That the man sheâd been sharing her life with for over a decade was lying on a bed, in a motel called The Mirage Inn, watching porn.
Her husband had left his mobile on the windowsill in a room heâd paid for with cash. The next guest had picked up the phone three days later and turned it on. Discovered 161 missed calls. Waited only a few minutes before Danielâs mobile rang. It had been sitting by a window overlooking a dismal little pool covered by leaves, foil wrappers and plastic bottles bobbing on the water.
Audrey dumped Keenan with Danielâs mother. Didnât say where she was going. Didnât answer any questions at all. She even swore at the bewildered old woman. Got back into her car and was away before Danâs mother could take it in. Grandmaâs was the only place Audrey could leave her son for a few days. Keenan had been wailing for hours. Heâd stopped crying as soon as he was released from his motherâs frantic embraces.
She went out to The Mirage Inn, so far north of Adelaide there was only desert beyond the compound. Audrey was taken to the room where Daniel had stayed. The owner was trying to be helpful as he walked her around the room but could only tell her about the takeaway food, Scotch and porn. She paid him for the room, asked him to leave, and continued to look around. In a drawer of the bedside table was a picture of Steve Mayâtaken years ago at Audreyâs office Christmas party, when she was working on Gouger Street. A photograph sheâd forgotten about once she had hidden it away.
On the back of the photo, in biro welts that had pushed through the image and could be read in reverse across Steveâs body, were a few sentences. Daniel had written about the days passing and seeing Steveâs face surfacing like a man taking years to come up for air. A stranger, pushing his way through the vivid blue eyes of Keenan.
Audrey put the photo back in the bedside drawer. She went outside to the small pool, lay on a deckchair made of varicoloured strips of plastic and closed her eyes. She felt nothing. Wanted to hang onto that numbness. Waited for the tears. They came in the tiny motel room, a little after two in the morning. She fell asleep and woke up before daybreak, crying again. Not the kind of tears she wanted. They came from the surface, from self-pity. She was drowning belowâbarely able to make a noise.
She couldnât move for the next few days. Didnât know where to go or what to do now. Sleep came in brief instalments and she couldnât rouse herself from a daze when she was awake. She bought a pack of Peter Stuyvesants from the Shell down the road. She
Readers choose
Helen Black
D. Martin
Julia Harper
Ryan Hill
Laura Zigman
J.M. Sevilla
Holly Newman
Max Hennessy