25
THE NEXT MYSTERY
Herculeah lay on her bed. It was three o‘clock in the morning. She and Meat had sat in the backseat of her dad’s car, talking, all the way home. She was tired. She was talked out. Yet somehow she was troubled, which really didn’t make sense.
The phone rang. Herculeah knew it was Meat, so she picked up the phone on the first ring.
It woke her mother anyway. “Herculeah, was that the phone?”
“It’s for me, Mom.”
“Who’s calling at this hour?”
“Probably Meat. I’ll find out.” She spoke into the phone. “Meat?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
Herculeah called, “Go back to sleep, Mom. It’s just Meat.” Into the phone she said, “Why are you whispering?”
“I don’t want my mom to hear. My mom thinks three o‘clock in the morning is no time to call anybody.”
“So does mine,” Herculeah said. “What did your mom say about your dad?”
“About what I expected. I told her about how great Dad was and showed her his picture in the program, the one with his hands out, like he’s getting ready to grab the cameraman.”
“They all looked mad at the cameraman.”
“True. Anyway, my mom looked at it and she got that expression she gets when she smells something bad, and she said, ‘Your father may be bigger and he may have fancier clothes, but he’s the same man who walked out on us and don’t you forget it.’”
“Don’t let her spoil it for you.”
“Nobody could. It’s been the greatest night of my life.”
Meat waited a moment for her to answer and when she didn‘t, he said, “Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“Is anything wrong?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I feel sort of, I don’t know, dissatisfied.”
“Not me. I’ve never felt better in my whole life.”
Herculeah shifted the telephone. “You should. You found your father and solved a mystery.”
“No, you found my father. It was a quest—like Hercules’ search for the Golden Chalice.”
“That wasn’t Hercules.”
“The Golden Fleece?”
“No.”
“Well, he searched for something golden and valuable, something nobody else in the world could find. I know that much. And I know he found it! And finding my father was something no one else in the world could have done but you.”
Herculeah smiled. “Your father is not golden.”
Meat’s voice was serious as he said, “He is to me.”
“Anyway, that was an accident. I bought the camera and, let’s face it, I didn’t have any reason to think you and your father would be in the photos. And then it was my dad who tracked your father down. I just stood by. I hate standing by.”
“No, you found my father,” Meat said firmly.
“But you solved the mystery.”
“Is that what’s bothering you—that I solved a mystery?”
“No! Oh, maybe. I guess. Meat, there’s something about solving a mystery, something about putting the last piece of the puzzle in place, that is really satisfying.”
“Yes!”
She grinned into the phone. “Anyway, the next mystery is mine.”
Meat realized his enthusiastic “Yes!” had come too quickly. He thought back to the terrible parts—finding a dead body in the men’s bathroom with the murderer in the next stall; hiding in a janitor’s closet, alone; and then worse, with Herculeah, while a supposedly funny comic did an unfunny impression of him. And the most terrible moment of all—waiting for the knife to plunge into his heart.
He shuddered.
“The next mystery is all yours,” he said firmly. There was a pause, then Meat asked, “‘Why are you talking about the next mystery? Herculeah, do you have one of your premonitions?”
“Well...”
“What? Tell me!”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“Tell me. Let me decide. I’m an expert on nothings.”
“Remember that wrestler called the Lion King? Remember he actually roared? Remember you said his hair frizzled just like mine?”
“Yes.”
“Well, when I saw the Lion King, I got a premonition.”
“Lion ... lion.” Meat gasped. “The Nemean Lion! I know I’m right about that.”
“Yes, I thought of that, too.” She smiled. “But there are no lions around here so I’m not going to waste my time worrying about it.”
“Me either,” Meat lied. “Anyway,” he added, more for himself than for Herculeah, “if Hercules can overcome his lion, so can Herculeah.”
“Thanks, that was nice. Goodnight, Meat.”
“Goodnight, Herculeah.”
And as she hung up the phone she said thoughtfully, “The Nemean Lion.”