Diners, Dives & Dead Ends Read Free Page A

sporadically.  Mostly, I think he sponged off Axton. 
    I pulled into the driveway
behind Axton’s blue Honda.  A huge sense of relief washed over me at the sight
of his car.  That phone call really freaked me out.  I didn’t know what was
wrong, but I wasn’t leaving until he told me everything.   
    I bounded up the front steps
and knocked on the door.  After about a minute, Joe answered. 
    Joe was a little taller than
Axton but just as thin.  His brown hair was shaggy and greasy and he always
wore a purple tuque with strings that fell on either side of his head.  Even in
the summer. 
    “Rose, hey man.  Like, mi
casa es su casa.”  He made a sweeping gesture with his arm.
    I hadn’t been inside Axton’s
house very often and frankly it was not an experience I wished to repeat.  It
was dusty and smelled like old bong water.  I stepped in and glanced around.  A
guy with a long ponytail and chin stubble sat on their old corduroy couch.  He
was completely engrossed in a video game that involved shooting people.  Nazis,
by the look of it.  
    “Where’s Axton?” 
    “In his room.”  He waved
toward the hall, his attention fixed on Ponytail and the video game.  “Dude,
you totally shot the shit out of that dude.”
    Ponytail nodded.  “Hell yeah
I did.”
    I walked down the short
hall, knocked on Axton’s door and waited.  Nothing.  I tried the door handle,
but it was locked.  I jiggled the knob.  “Ax, you in there?”
    No answer.
    “Hey Joe,” I yelled.
    Joe shuffled down the hall
to stand next to me. 
    “Axton’s door is locked and
he’s not answering.”
    Joe shrugged.  “Don’t know,
dude.”
    “Do you have a key?”
    He scratched the top of his
head.  “Um…I don’t think so.”
    I pounded on the door and
shouted Axton’s name, but still no response. 
    “Are you going to kick the
door in?” Joe asked.
    “Not unless I have to.”
    “Cuz that would be awesome. 
But, like, better if you had on a tight leather jumpsuit and boots that came up
to your cootchie.  All superhero style, you know?”
    I walked back down the hall
and out the front door.  I made my way toward the side of the house until I
stood outside of Axton’s room.  His light was off but the window stood open,
the curtains fluttering inward from the light wind.
    Joe followed.  “Hey, maybe
the Axman escaped.”
    I wrapped my hands over the
window ledge, and bracing my feet against the house, hoisted myself up. 
Throwing one leg over the sill, I ducked my head and toppled into Axton’s
bedroom, then quickly scrambled to my feet. 
    With my hands stretched out
in front of me, I stumbled around in the dark and stubbed my toe as I searched
for the light switch.  When I finally found it, I flipped it on and took a good
look around.  There was an unbelievable amount of crap scattered everywhere,
but no Axton.
    A knot formed in the pit of
my stomach.  Where the hell was Ax and why hadn’t he taken his car? 
    I tromped back to the living
room and asked Joe a few simple questions, like ‘When did Axton come home?  Was
he acting strange?  Did he say if he was going out tonight?’  All I got back
was, “Dude, I don’t know.”  Not terribly helpful, Joe.
    I gave Joe and Ponytail specific
instructions to call me if Axton called or came home.  They nodded as they
munched on cold pizza and watched me with glazed eyes.  With a sigh, I left the
house and got back in my car. 
    I drove around for hours,
stopping at all of Axton’s favorite hangouts: The Burger Barn, The Slaughter
House (a local watering hole), Howard’s Hot Dog Stand, The Carp (a bar that featured
live music), and even The Sizzler, Axton’s favorite restaurant.  He was nowhere
to be found and no one had seen him all night.  I kept calling him, but he
never answered. 
    I got home close to eleven
o’clock.  Worry clawed at me as I climbed the two flights of stairs to my
studio apartment.  Something was wrong with Ax, I felt