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The Rules
By: R. Scott McCoy
Larry cruised though the
cube farm on the second floor
looking for his friend Steve. He took a right and
looked down a long stretch toward the copy center, but
there was no sign of him. He silently cursed the soft
grey fabric maze walls and took the next left.
The row ended at a window with a nice view of the
outside world. There against the wall leaned Steve,
talking to his department’s new admin assistant.
When Larry got a few feet away, Steve looked at him,
nodded once, and looked back at the blonde. Susan was
it? He tried to get Steve’s attention, but he just
didn’t have what it took to compete with the blonde.
He walked up, and stood, waiting.
"Help you buddy?" Steve said, sounding friendly but
looking annoyed.
"Yeah buddy, I need your help on a project. You got a
few minutes?"
Sarah, not Susan according to the
employee badge that
rested against her ample chest, said, "I really have
to get out a few emails before I leave."
"Ok. See you tomorrow," Steve said.
Larry turned away from Steve sure he would follow and
headed for the nearest empty conference room.
Once in the sparsely furnished room, Steve shut the
door. "Dude! What is so important?"
He was clearly annoyed, but Larry needed help fast
and Steve was the only one he knew with experience. "I
didn’t know anyone else I could trust."
Steve’s face changed from annoyed to curious. "What
can I do for you?"
Larry hesitated.
"Come on, man. Spill," Steve urged.
"Ok," Larry said, "my wife left this morning with the
kids to visit her folks."
"And?" Steve prodded.
"I’m going to do it tonight, but I need some advice.
I didn’t know who else to ask."
"You sure you want to go through with this. If your
wife finds out you cheated on her..."
Larry winced, but he had made up his mind. "She won’t
find out, not if you help me. You told me before that
you do it all the time."
"I do. But it isn’t easy Larry. Living a lie. Leading
a double life. You sure you can handle the guilt."
"I think so. No. Forget that. I know so. Since the
kids, we barely even do it any more, and when we do,
it’s different. You know what its like."
Steve nodded, convinced. "Ok, I’m going to give you
the rules. You must follow these rules to the letter
and promise never, and I mean never to tell anyone you got them from me.
Understand?"
Larry nodded and Steve took a deep breath and let it
out. "Ok. Rule number one. Always use cash. Save up if
you have to, but don’t ever use a check or a credit
card. It’s a dead give away."
Larry nodded and Steve continued. "Rule number two.
Bring a change of clothes."
"Isn’t that a bit extreme?" Larry interrupted.
"Not unless you want to get caught. You want my help
or not?"
Larry nodded and looked at the ground. Steve cracked
open the conference room door and checked to see that
no one was close enough to over hear, then started
again. "Take the clothes you wore to a laundry mat.
Make sure you use the same detergent as you have at
home, and then drop them in the laundry."
Larry nodded.
"Rule number three. Bring a toothbrush, mouthwash and
floss. The floss is very important."
Larry interrupted again. "Floss? What for?"
Steve raised his eyebrow. "Think about it."
Larry did for a few seconds. "Oh."
"Yeah rookie, you got it. Now repeat them back to me,
all three rules."
Larry took a deep breath and recited. "Rule one.
Always use cash. Don’t use checks or credit cards.
Rule two, bring a change of clothes. Is that really
necessary?"
Steve sighed dramatically. "You think your wife can’t
smell it on you from a mile away? Think damn it!"
"Ok, ok. Rule number three. Bring a toothbrush, mouth
wash and floss."
"Ok, Larry, are you ready for the fourth and most
important rule?"
"I’m ready."
"I think you are. I really think you can pull this
off old buddy. But if you get caught, this better not
come back on me. Rule number four, and perhaps the
most important rule of all. This is the one that men
forget and it gets most of them caught."
Larry leaned forward, determined not to be one of the
ones who got caught.
"As soon as they rip the ticket and hand the stub
back to you, throw the thing in the trash. Do not, I
repeat, do not put the stub in your pocket or you will
forget it. Next thing you know your wife is going
through your pockets on washday and BAMB! You're
busted."
"Hey, I don’t want a divorce. I just want to see a
movie that isn’t a cartoon or about animals!"
"Calm down man, I understand. You don’t have to
justify yourself to me." Steve said, smiling
sympathetically.
Larry took in a deep breath and nodded, glad to
finally get it off his chest, then noticed a glint of
yellow at Steve’s gum line. "You dog! You saw one
today. Business lunch, yeah right."
Steve stopped smiling and probed with his tongue
until he found the traitorous popcorn husk. "See what
can happen? I brushed but I ran out of floss. Just
remember the rules and you’ll be ok. So, what movie
are you going to, as if I didn’t know?"
"You got it buddy, no kid or chick flicks tonight."
Larry said, smiling in anticipation. It was summer
blockbuster season and this year, he wouldn’t be
watching them on a DVD late at night with the volume
down.
The End
Author bio:
R. Scott McCoy was born in the wilds of Alaska and raised in
Minnesota, where he currently lives with his wife, two
daughters and three dogs. He has been writing
non-fiction and fiction with gusto since 2005.
Fiction Credits
"A Boy and His Gun." Blazing Adventure Magazine.
"Daydream at 30,000 Feet." Anathema.
"Day Twenty." Bewildering Stories
"The Morning After" Bewildering Stories
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