Hi all! I’ve been battling viral infections and strep throat for the past three week–when one gets over something, the other gets it or gives it to me. I hope you all had a wonderful Halloween.
The following story is a little late, but my oldest wanted me to share it.
Mr. Jonathans’s Wonderful Burgers
By Debbie Roppolo
Melia Potts sighed and adjusted the woolen cap on her head. Tonight, everyone she knew of was either attending costume parties or curled up on couches watching horror movies. “But yet here I am, sitting in the dark, on Halloween, in the bushes beside a creepy old restaurant with my half-baked best friend,” she said aloud.
“Shh,” her friend Tami hissed. “Do you want the police to come by and arrest us?”
“If they have hot coco and cookies, sure,” Melia countered, zipping up her jacket.
The two girls were both rookie reporters for the school paper the previous year and been close friends ever since. Tami was a bulldog, doing anything to get a story, while Melia was more the wait-and-see-how-it-unfolds type. As a result, Tami rose quickly through the ranks, and was now the chief editor.
Tami frowned and nibbled a hangnail. She and Melia were closer than sisters, but this was business, and her friend’s lackadaisical attitude was like fingernails down a chalkboard. “Look,” she said, pointing a finger in Melia’s face. “I gave you an assignment, and you didn’t follow through. All you had to do was interview Mr. Jonathans and hit him with ‘the question’.”
Mr. Jonathans owned the popular “Lappy’s Family Restaurant”, known for its spicy onion rings, homemade root beer, and super-juicy burgers made with a secret ingredient.
Melia jammed the hat further down on her head. “I tried. He wouldn’t answer that question. It was horrible. The man was demonic, frothing at the mouth, eyes bulging, and screaming for me to get the heck outta his place.
Tami closed her eyes and counted ten. She’d thought that with all the hanging out they’d done together, her friend would’ve learned something about being a good reporter. “Then that’s when you get tough. Keep pushing until they break,” she said, jabbing her fist in the air to emphasize her point “And you investigate. After all, that IS what an investigative reporter does.” Tami pulled a rickety wooden box beneath a window. “C’mon, let’s get into this place,” she said stepping on the crate.
Melia raised her eyebrow, watching as the decrepit box shuddered beneath her friend’s weight. “I don’t know about this. Looks like a trip to the ER waiting to happen.” She twisted a lock of amber-colored hair around her finger. “Besides, how’d we get in anyway?”
“Simple. I paid a dishwasher to leave this window unlocked.” Finding the window ajar, Tami pushed it open the rest of the way.
“And is that what an investigative reporter does too?” Melia asked sarcastically.
Her friend shrugged. “If need be. C’mon and get your lard rear up here,” she said helping Melia onto the box.
“What I won’t do for a pal,” Melia said, groaning as she tumbled through the window and landed in a sink full of greasy water.
“They’ve gotta mix the meat somewhere,” Tami mumbled, shining her flashlight around the dark kitchen. “Let’s split up.”
Melia hugged herself and shook her head. The restaurant was very different from the family-friendly eatery she’d spent many an hour in with her parents. In her opinion, it looked like something out of a horror movie. Knives stuck haphazardly in cutlery blocks were beacons for psycho slashers hiding in the darkened kitchen. Pots and pans suspended from overhead storage racks resembled dangling heads.
Tami frowned. “Cut the Scooby-Doo act. We’re alone. What’s the worse that’ll happen? You’ll fall in grease?” She regarded her friend’s still-wet clothing and giggled. “And since that’s already happened, you’re safe. Look, if it makes you happy, I’ll take the kitchen area.”
Though the only thing that’d make Melia truly happy was leaving, she nodded.
“Great. Then you take the dining and storage area.”
Melia watched as her friend walked away, wishing with every fiber of her being she was home, stealing chocolate from her little sister’s pumpkin, and sharing hot cider with the rest of her family. “But that’s not what a good reporter does,” she said, making a face as she mimicked Tami.
She walked through the dining room, trying not to envision ghosts dancing among the tables, as they had in
The Shining.
“Melia!”
Forgetting her fears, Melia ran toward the direction of her friend’s shrieks. She came to a massive iron door at the rear of the restaurant. “Melia, help me,” Tami screamed from the other side.
Heart pounding in her ears, Melia tugged at the handle. The door refused to budge. Suddenly she heard a thump, followed by a groan and the sound of machinery.
Her strength renewed, she again tugged at the massive door. Slowly it swung open, exposing a large, dark room. Melia gagged as an overwhelming metallic smell assaulted her nostrils.
As her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, Melia saw a large machine, equipped with a conveyer belt. At the other end of the machine was a tube, spitting out perfectly portioned hamburger patties.
“You’re just in time,” a voice behind her said.
Turning, Melia came face-to-face with Mr. Jonathans. “What have you done with my friend?” she demanded.
An evil smile crept across the man’s face. “Oh her. She wanted to investigate my patties first hand, so I thought I’d oblige her. But I don’t think she was happy with what she learned.”
Melia gasped, then vomited as Mr. Jonathans held up Tami’s head, a perpetual look of horror on her face.
“There she goes now. What an ace reporter,” he continued, pointing to the conveyer belt as Tami’s headless body moved through the machine. “We better hurry. You don’t want her to “scoop” you, do you?”
Frozen in terror, Melia watched as Mr. Jonathans pulled a remote control from his pocket. Her heart fell as he pushed a button, and she heard the mechanical sound of the door locking behind her.
She HAD discovered the mystery of the secret ingredient, but it was something she’d take with her to her grave.
