Fred Aiken Writing

‘I know it’s your birthday coming up…’

‘Don’t tell you got me you got me a prostitute?’

‘What? No, of course not. We’re not that those types of people.’

‘Good, because I’d have to politely decline. I don’t want any diseases. None more than I already have.’

‘You’re sick?’

‘No. I just know there’s the pandemic going around, and I don’t know how people are getting it, but I imagine prostitutes might be carriers.’

‘Well, like I said, we don’t know anything about that.’

‘Good. Well, then, what did you get me?’

‘You know how you lost your parents after getting lost during your family vacation when you were five at the water park.’

‘Of course I remember. It defined my entire life.’

‘Well, we were able to track them down for you…’

‘No, really?! That’s amazing. Kinda makes my efforts seem trivial, but I don’t care. I’m just excited to finally be reunited with my parents after all these years. You guys are the greatest. I don’t know how to repay you.’

‘No need. It’s a gift. Gifts don’t need to be repaid.’

‘Are they here?’

‘Just behind that door.’

‘That door?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Oh man, don’t tell me that.’

‘What? What’s the matter with that door?’

‘It’s a trap door. The previous owner installed it. I think they were some sort of spy or something, I dunno. But that door leads to some alligator pit. They’re probably dead now.’

‘What? Are you kidding?’

‘I wish I were. There’s nothing more I’d like than to finally be able to see my parents…after all these years, and finally ask them why they stopped looking for me. But now, well, now I guess it’s a moot point. They’re gator chow…’

‘I don’t think I’m getting you a gift ever again.’