My Life in a Year: Prolouge Ch. 02

Author note -

You might want to read Prolouge part 1, and see the author note there...enjoy

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January 2nd, 2005

The next morning Dylan awoke to the sounds of – nothing.

No alarm. No television. No cell phone. Nothing.

He stretched and glanced at the clock, which was showing a late start to his new life at 11:15 am. He smiled and threw back the covers, padding over to the lounge chair to retrieve his robe. Tying the belt he searched for his slippers but lost interest after he got a whiff of coffee from the kitchen.

His daily maid of 10 years, Jasmine, had let herself in as usual and was doing the daily chores of dishes, laundry and anything else it was that she did all day. He came down the back stairs, which led directly into the adjoining sunroom, and he could see her whipping spots from the counter.

Scratching his tousled bed head hair, he shuffled into the kitchen, banging his knee on the doorjamb on the way in.

"OWWW!" he howled, rubbing furiously at the red spot appearing.

"AUGH!" Jasmine yelled, throwing up her hands, tossing the cleaning rag and bottled cleaner over her shoulder.

"WHAT?" Screamed Dylan, immediately on the defensive, ready to fight in a mock Karate stance.

"Mr. Montgomery!" Jasmine said breathing heavy, hand over her chest. "You give me a heart attack!"

"Me?" Dylan said, eyes still flicking to the open parts of the room. "You're the one who screamed!"

"You no supposed to be here!" She hissed back, he rounded bosom heaving. "You never here! I don't hear so well you know! I'm old lady! You no sneak up on me like that!"

"Jasmine! I LIVE here!" Jasmine clucked her tongue, mumbling in her foreign language, crossing herself several times.

"You don't do that again, eh?" She picked up the rag and cleaning spray. "Eh, why you home? You sick?" Immediately she moved for him, hand outright to feel for a fever. Dylan sidestepped quickly, avoiding the old lady's hand.

"I'm fine, Jasmine, just home for the day."

"Eh, I see." She said. "Sit, sit. I'll make you breakfast, no?" Like a child Dylan sat at the large table while Jasmine retrieved the daily paper and brought him coffee. "I make you eggs."

While Dylan waited for breakfast, he flipped through the paper, his mind trained to go directly to the stock reports and trade analysis. Disgusted with himself, he moved on quickly to the WANT Ads, and then to the SELL ads.

His eyes drifted over them, each screaming out, 4-sale! Must g-g-go! GR8 Deal! It was the ad at the bottom of the page that caught his attention. Mumbling to himself he read it several times. After the 3rd time, he jumped up and screamed.

"Hell yeah!" Dylan heard a glass break in the kitchen and he winced, knowing his outburst had jostled Jasmine. He smiled and rushed into the kitchen.

"Mr. Montgomery, you try to kill me! This I know!" Jasmine scolded, bending over to pick up pieces of the glass mug, he wide backside sticking out.

"Sorry Jasmine, I got over excited." He tried to help her pick up the pieces, but she smacked his hands away.

"What you so excited about?" She asked, throwing the glass in the trash.

"What if I told you, I will be – I will be gone for awhile?"

"You finally take vacation?" She asked eye arched.

"Y –yes, sorta. I will be gone for- ", Dylan thought for a second. "For at least a year."

"A year?" Jasmine breathed. "Why you go so long?" Her look became maddening and she asked, "You are try to kill me! This way, you no have to fire! Petuewy on you!" She added, mock spitting in his direction.

"Jasmine! No, no! I need you to keep on here. I still need a clean house, right?" She thought about this for a second, lips pursed in a tight scowl, wondering if he was pulling her leg.

"You no fire me?" She asked.

"No. I need you to keep up on the house, as usual. But look at this!" Dylan thrusted the paper at her. "Read it."

Jasmine pulled her reading glasses from her smocked dress, adjusting them on her nose. She tilted her head up and read the ad. "Grow your penis 3 extra inches?"

"Jasmine!" Dylan said, snatching the paper back and then pointed to the ad at the bottom. "No! This one!"

She looked again, reading it to herself and then out loud. "For sale. 1998 Mustang Cobra con-vert-a-ble, 10K O-B-O." She wrinkled her nose. "You going to drive somewhere?" She asked, taking off her glasses.

"Yes I am!" Dylan said excitedly, pulling the phone off the charger. He dialed the number listed in the ad as Jasmine finished making his eggs. A moment later Dylan hung up. "Its mine!" he said excitedly.

"You such a boy," Jasmine said, herding him into the dining room. "Sit down and eat. I'll find the suitcase." Smiling widely, Dylan sat and began to stuff his mouth with the warm eggs, his mind churning ideas and planning the route. In mid bite, he jumped from the table and went to the library, retrieving the road atlas his mother had gotten him for Christmas the year before.

Returning, he sat again, this time with the maps spread over the table, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the fork in the other. He could hear Jasmine in the upstairs bedroom, pulling the luggage from the spare closet. Concentrating, he plotted his course.

"Lets see." He said to himself. "I'll do all of the US. Yes. I'll go from here," He began drawing from NY all the way to Florida, "To here, then go back up," the yellow highlighter glided over the page, "to Alabama then on to Michigan."

An hour later, the map was covered in highlighter marks in yellow, green and blue, each marked with a timetable and dates. Dylan leaned back in his chair studying his work, satisfied that he was able to get each and every state in.

Jasmine came to collect his dishes and glanced over his shoulder. "You going to drive all that?" She asked.

"I sure am." Dylan replied, eyes glazed.

"I don't know why you want to do that silliness for, but I guess I have to wash more clothes." Dylan smiled as she made her way back to the kitchen and he glanced at his watch. It was nearing 3 already, and he needed to go pick up his new car.