Thank you, Sparkles, for your review. I shall frame it. You are the first one that I unlocked. I am new to all this (and sometimes, I think, to this planet). This scene is about two-thirds of the way through the novel and there is much that leads up to it. Carla is “poor white trash” and spoke that way in real life. Megan is the articulate one. I have been writing this for 22 years and you are my first editor. I noticed you have done many reviews. I wrote notes for the reader but I couldn’t retrieve them in order to update or edit. In 1994 I was offered one million dollars for one-time movie rights. This was through a mutual friend who has connections in the industry. They thought the book was finished. It still is not. I lost the deal and some respect. I had said I was writing the book, not I had finished the book. Quite a misunderstanding. My writing was horrible back then and I’m glad no one saw any of it. If you find this true story interesting, you can go to MySpace, search under display name for “plotjuggler”, and read almost 140 mini scenes (listed as blogs), and also read the first four chapters. The site explains much more about this incident. The character Derek is me. Megan is the one that I hid. Thank you for discovering my world.
Novel Treatments / RENDEZVOUS WITH A RUNAWAY
She charmed her way into his heart. She buried herself in his bed. He couldn’t get her out of his mind.
Black. White. Somebody mixed a bad gray. Where do you hide to escape a world so color bound?
RENDEZVOUS WITH A RUNAWAY
Until Megan . . . every nightmare was supposed to end.
CHAPTER (Approximate two-thirds into novel)
Derek decelerated to a crawl and turned off the highway into the almost empty hotel lot. He skated the car towards a parking space adjacent a stairway, scanned the glossy surroundings, and stopped as gradual as possible to avoid a skid into the curb.
“Don’t get out yet,” he said, grabbing Junior’s arm next to him. Derek, now forced into taking certain precautions, covered every possibility of being followed. ”Okay, I think. Hopefully, we don’t break our necks on this ice.”
Now the two worked their way from the car to the stairway to a door midway across the hotel building.
“I hope they’re up,” Junior said.
“They’re up.” Derek peered down over the slick railing and surveyed the office area. ”Two in the afternoon and they haven’t eaten. No money. No food.”
“It’s open,” someone yelled before anyone knocked.
A passing diesel farted down through several gears and started an uphill grunt. Derek ducked into the room. ”Shhh. Got to keep it down. Junior, bolt that door behind you. Hello, Carla.”
Carla lay in bed with the covers up to her waist and her elbows pointed above her head. Her wrists dug roots behind a head of uncombed hay. Her face displayed a comic grin while her eyes stayed glued to a silent TV. ”Take your seats, fellas. This my favorite cartoon.”
“Where’s Megan?”
“In here,” a voice spilled from around the corner. Moments later Megan darted into the room wrapped in a towel, her shoulder-length auburn hair a nest of wet feathers. She scooped into a pile of clothes on the floor, snatched something off the dresser, flashed Derek a big smile, and hightailed back to the bath. ”Hello, Junior.”
Junior had staked a seat in the corner. His face ignited and burst into a smile. His eyebrows soared above his dark-rimmed glasses. There was the sudden shrill of a hair dryer, but Junior replied anyway, “Hello, Megan. Man, she hasn’t changed a lick.”
Derek’s eyes moved at random around the room and finally rested on a dozen wrinkled soda cans cluttering the dresser top. ”You guys have company late last night?”
Carla, her cheeks adorned with flakes of eye shadow beneath struggling eyes, didn’t answer right away, and when she did, she mumbled incoherently, “I don’t know. Don’t think so.”
The hair dryer stopped. The room choked in a silence that mixed with an instant chill. Megan marched from the bathroom to her purse on the bed and pulled out a wad of keys. ”Derek, does this answer your question?”
The girls looked at each other, and Carla blew the boys a playful kiss.
“Wasn’t enough giving her friend the number here. Got all chummy with the manager’s sons.” Megan rattled the keys and shot Carla a look of disapproval.
Carla’s cheek pushed a smirk. ”We get thirsty. Now we don’t put money in that machine. Too bad the snack machine right in front of that office.”
Megan marched the keys into the bathroom and came out empty-handed. ”So, now we have to get out of here. Right, Derek?”
Derek watched her eyes. Wild eyes that took him places. And he could smell the fresh soap and the fragrant towel. ”We have to return those keys,” he said. ”Without letting on how we got them.”
“I can do that,” Carla said, her smile bragging. ”That older boy has a crush on me.”
Megan stood in front of the TV screen, switched it off, and raked all ten fingers through her hair. ”Haven’t you done enough already? And to think that I’m the one who wanted you here.”
Derek felt a little red button press against the pit of his stomach. If the girls couldn’t get along, then everything he did was for nothing. ”Let’s all calm down,” he said to the girls, while drawing encouragement from Junior who was bouncing up and down and nodding his head. ”We’ve covered our tracks so far. Just pray those boys haven’t put two and two together.”
Carla stretched at a vulgar angle, her face lost in an orgasmic smile. She collapsed against the bed and her eyes rolled sneakily. ”Those are nice boys. Nice boys wouldn’t make trouble.”
Junior started to laugh and Derek cleared his throat. Megan turned around from the dresser. ”Carla, did you borrow any of my things? Specifically, are you wearing any of my things?”
The covers floated above the bed. Carla ducked under, and chuckled. ”Are your thing white with blue flower?”
“Yours, Carla. Derek, you and Junior were here last night. You were here after I fell asleep.”
“And—?”
“And my lace panties are missing.”
Junior whistled. Derek started to get up. ”Megan. Junior wasn’t here last night. Me and Bobby.”
Junior rested his chin on a fist. ”And don’t forget Carla’s company,” he said, gently getting even with Megan.
“Look at me, Derek.” Megan held her hips. ”We both know that I know whenever you are lying. In my eye, Derek, and tell me that you didn’t.”
Footsteps approached on the outside walkway and Junior held up a restraining hand. They all slowly relaxed as a bucket chattered at the ice machine.
“Baby,” Carla said. ”Derek not lie about last night. Maybe one of my boy did do it. And your towel coming off.”
Megan flipped her back to the room, unwrapped her towel for an awkward second, and slapped it shut. Derek avoided her eyes as she glanced around. Eyes that guarded and flogged. His mind fought her image reflected in the TV. His stomach grew tight with her scent.
“And to think,” Megan said, her lips quivering as she slowly shook her head at Derek, “they were in the dirty clothes pile. That is so disgusting.”
Derek ignored the accusations, worked on a couple peaceful breaths, and cleared the anger out his mind. ”Okay, getting back to what I was saying. I spent my last money putting you here. We don’t need trouble. Carla, you don’t seem to care where you end up. Or what you do when you get there. Don’t blow it for Megan.”
The bed groaned and squeaked. Carla snickered. ”Everybody finished yelling at me? I need more sleep.”
“No one’s yelling.”
Junior raised his watch. ”Derek, the time.”
“Okay, no more giving the number out and no more funny business. Let’s behave ourselves. Now, up so we can all go eat.”
“Yes, Big Daddy,” Carla said, and kicked off the covers. As she wiggled into her jeans she smacked herself once on the bottom. ”Carla been a bad girl, everybody.”
The girls joined hands, and Megan stared behind them as they hurried to the bathroom, her hauntingly beautiful eyes screaming over one shoulder, exactly the way they did at the rink.
The bathroom door swished. Junior spread his arms and frowned. ”What was that for? You see the way she looked at you?”
The door clicked. Derek remained silent, waited for the tingly drone indicating the fan cut on, and then said, “After being locked in that place . . . probably the usual.”
“Time out,” Junior said, his cheeks rising, a hissing noise emitting between his two front teeth. ”I thought you and Megan never did it.”
“Shhh.” Derek pointed to the bathroom wall. He monitored the slit of sunlight under the hotel door. ”I meant we need to talk. Catch up on things. Not what you mean.”
Junior stroked his chin and grinned horribly. ”You two crack me up. You know you want her.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Then what about those panties, nigger? Sounds like she wants you to be guilty.”
Derek feared what was on Junior’s mind. And he thought again what Carla had said about Megan’s changed behavior. Plus, the old Megan would never had brought that up. But it wouldn’t take much to trigger an avalanche from the others attacking his morals. Best to just drop it. He said, “I’m starved. What do you want to eat?”
“And Big Daddy? You know what that sounds like. Wonder what the girls—”
“Quit it, Junior. I’m sure you already know. Okay?”
Junior cracked a naughty smile, and his head bobbed up and down as he stared toward the bathroom. ”Damn, Carla girl. Showing it and smacking it. My brother, I’d be tearing up some more of that.”
“I told you nothing happened. Come on, she’s underaged. Besides, I was too—”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” Junior waved both arms, grinning. ”Too tired to do anything. You keep saying it, but nobody’s feeling you. Ain’t a nigger alive—”
“Let’s keep the record straight,” Derek said, narrowing his eyes.
“I am not some nigger. And I do have a conscience. Nothing happened with Megan or Carla.”
“Wait a minute,” Junior said and leaned forward in his chair, eyebrows climbing within an inch of his hairline. His face grew serious. ”Didn’t you say she slept in the nude? I thought so. And yet you claim nothing went down.”
“And will keep claiming it.”
“And you didn’t even look at that shit? Bull, nigger. White meat glows in the dark.” He closed his eyes and wagged his head, as though he was a fly on the wall in the basement, and Derek had pulled off the impossible. He suddenly held his eyes, as if he’d seen too much, and his lids lashed open. ”So what did me and Bobby find that next morning? What did we see when we came downstairs?”
Derek took a deep breath, side vision shadowboxing toward the bathroom. ”I hope we haven’t been talking too loud.”
“You hope you haven’t been talking too loud,” Junior said, grinning, pointing with both hands, as if Derek was in more trouble than he. ”And don’t try to change the subject, nigger. White arms were wrapped around your chocolate neck. That’s what I’m talking about.” Junior smiled, and exposed every one of his teeth.
“Cute. Real cute.”
“The hell you think we were laughing about all day? Nigger was getting some. Yeah, uh-huh. And don’t give me that minister crap.”
“Dammit, Junior. I really don’t need this right now, okay.”
Derek laid back and stared at the ceiling, silently cursing Carla instead of Junior. First, there was that stunt she pulled to get to the townhouse. Then she ended up in his bed. Megan’s bed. Also, of considerable magnitude, she broke the runaway code of ethnics by giving out the number and stealing keys. Now she was like an invisible wall between him and Megan, a poisonous gas that surrounded their friends.
“Junior. I know how it must look. And I can’t blame you for not believing me. But none of this makes sense to me either.”
“You the man,” Junior said in his grownup sounding voice. And then he jumped up and plopped flat on his back in bed. ”Hey, why don’t we stay right here? We could have pizza delivered to the lobby.”
“On these roads? The pizza people would have to be crazy. And those boys . . . ”
“We made it here okay. Besides, it’s no more risk than the girls being seen out in public.” Junior flashed a roll of the green and a wicked grin. ”C’mon, it’s on me. What you say, Big Daddy?”
Derek knew the risk wasn’t the same. Every second they were with the girls they played a dead man’s version of Russian roulette. He was about to share that when the bathroom door creaked open and a head peeped around the corner.
Megan’s lips were parted and her eyes were larger than usual. ”Is it safe to come out?”
Derek stared at the ivory shoulder and the naked arm. ”You still not dressed?”
Megan did something cute with her tongue, and she blushed. ”Not that kind of safe. We felt the floor shake. Nothing’s wrong?”
“Only that you’re taking too long.” This was the Megan that Derek knew. But still he avoided those eyes.
“I get it,” Junior said. ”When I landed on the bed—must’ve made quite a jolt on this old wooden floor. That’s what they felt.”
“Guess so,” Derek said and fingered his shoelace. ”Then from now on these come off when you enter the room. Got that, Megan? Tell Carla. And tell Carla get a move on.”
Megan stuck out her tongue, her head retracted behind the wall, and a moment later Carla’s head appeared. ”Meanie!” Then Carla’s head disappeared, and the room echoed with sounds of the girls uncontrollably giggling.
Junior grinned and pumped a thumb in the air. ”The girls are starting to loosen up. I think maybe we should stick around today.”
Derek felt his lips play with a smile. So this was the way life was supposed to be lived. When was the last time the girls seemed so happy? When had Junior worn a grin instead of that intelligent frown? And Junior’s idea about ordering pizza sounded better by the minute. Was it a bad idea? What if the four of them went out to eat and were involved in some kind of accident? And then there was Junior, appearing grown, but still another minor, and Derek had practically dragged him here. Derek listened to mixed bursts of hair dryer and giggles, while smiling on the good life.
A vicious pounding on the hotel door stopped the giggling—killed the smiles. The two men faced each other for a long moment. Finally Junior rolled out of bed, tippy-toed to the curtains and peeped out a hairline crack.
“Damn,” he said, staggering backwards. ”It’s the police!”
“What—?” Derek jumped up. Stunned. Cut. A deep cut of trouble. He’d been in trouble before. Not like this. ”Oh no.”
A girl flew by. Another one crashed into his arm.
“What do we do, Derek? Derek, think.”
He tried to think. Move. Think. Run. To where? The girl in the towel. She’s dressed now. Thank God for that.
A loudspeaker clicked. For a terrifying second, Derek thought he had been shot.
“YOU FOLKS IN THE ROOM. THIS IS THE POLICE. WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP.”
Hell no. Can’t be. Too real for any dream.
“Nigger, think,” the boy cried in Derek’s face. His eyeglasses were gone. His lips were charcoal gray with fear.”
Derek stumbled in a circle. ”The bathroom. A window.”
The girl with the towel. Spit got stuck in the back of her mouth. ”Yes! A small window!”
The four of them took off, swept by the surf of a hopeful tide.
“Crap,” somebody said. ”It’s stuck.”
Derek lunged forward. WhackBlam! ”We’re free!”
They squinted out the window and down to the ground. Two men in blue dotted the snow. Something flashed in the sun as one of them pointed overhead.
The hotel herd drifted back. Watery eyes swelled. Minds sorted in slow motion.
“I’m sorry, Derek.” One girl’s face locked in an apologetic smile. ”Is this the end?”
Twenty-four-year Derek Miller stood in the muddle of nowhere, snapped out of a coma, and grew acutely aware of his surroundings. A strange boy silently screaming in the corner of some musty room. A teenage girl clawing his arm and weeping with hysterics. A second girl, aimlessly searching for some magical means to freedom, laughing to herself as she assaulted the room.
Strangers. They were all strangers. Was he supposed to know any of them?
And now a new awareness. A truth. His head being clearer than it had been in his whole life, Derek Miller could finally see. Two black males trapped in a redneck hotel with two white, hunted, females.
This is not my life, and innocent voice cried from inside. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m an ordained minister of God.
“INSIDE THE ROOM. AGAIN. THIS IS THE POLICE. MEGAN DANSKI. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP. DON’T MAKE US BREAK DOWN THAT DOOR.”
Derek knew it was all over. He was losing it. This time he had really had it. He looked at the others without seeing them. God, help me. Oh, please help me, God.
Derek Miller, man and minister, held his breath and reached for the door . . .
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”..runaway code of ethnics..” = ethics?
”..in the muddle of nowhere..” = middle?
great suspense build-up. good character development. definitely hooks the reader into wanting to know what derek will do in this seemingly inescapable situation. only one suggestion: i was a little confused at the end – they climb out of the window, but suddenly they’re back in the room? you might add a short line saying so. other than “the hotel herd drifted back.” i thought that they were still outside, just pressed against the building or something.
other than that, a very easy read with a solid amount of tension.
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Pretty good, just a few comments about things that are nagging at me.
“Now the two worked their way from ” Um, you were writing in past tense. What happened?
“Are your thing white with blue flower” should be things with either a blue flower or blue flowers.
” This is not my life, and innocent” should be “an innocent”
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