The Mystery of the Next Day

“It was a great party, wasn’t it?!” Willy asked.

“No, it was not!” I snapped back. I felt very unsatisfied with my headache and dizziness. And certainly I did not like cleaning up the apartment. Otherwise the party had to be great as beside all these second day’s inconveniences, I could not remember too much. And it had always been a mark of success, at least among my friends.

“You have to drink less!” was his comment.

I made a growling noise as my answer and dropped on my knees to clean some spot in front of the sofa. Something was not right about that. It seemed like… blood. Damm… I had always got dizzy after seeing blood. That could have been the right moment to avoid the cleaning duty just by passing out. But I preferred to have a bit cleaner surroundings, so I addressed Willy: “Hey, Will! I have the feeling we are going to change our cleaning tasks. There is some blood.”

Willy came, but said nothing.

“It looks bad, smells bad! There is no way I am dealing with that. And actually, how did it happen?” I rushed the conversation, “Did anyone get so hurt? Not sure, we had to bandage anyone or to call an ambulance.”

“I neither remember calling an ambulance,” it seemed Willy had had a good party as well. After a short moment of silence, a weird smile opened on his face and he continued: “But you know, I do not remember Jenny going away as well”.

I was able to call back foggy pictures, how most of the guests were leaving, but there was none about Jenny’s exit. It made me getting silent, while diving deep in my thoughts. But Willy decided to interrupt them: “Do you remember the Quentin Tarantino’s movie about two kids and the dead hooker?”

“Which one?” I answered with a question.

“Two kids, hot mother, Antonio Banderas as a father,” he tried to turn on my database about movies.

“Do you mean, “Four Rooms?” It was not Tarantino’s… that room at least,” I remembered the movie usually being watched around the New Year.

“Whatever…” Willy did not care, “But do you remember, where the hooker was found?”

I turned my look towards the sofa. If somebody managed to put a dead body under some bed mattress in a hotel, my large sofa could be even a better choice… especially because of its hidden space for bedclothes… and because there were some evidences near the sofa.

After a short moment of hesitation I decided to act. I had to check if my sofa was free of a dead hooker… oops, sorry Jenny. So I took off all the mats and took out all the pillows, sheets and blankets to be able to give a relieved sigh. There was nobody dead there in a sofa.

I got a bit irritated as I had to put everything back in their order. And I found out that somebody had spilled his cocktail on the sofa and the liquid had flown into the bedclothes’ hold. It meant additional washing and probably even a visit to a dry-cleaner.

While getting more and more unsatisfied about discovering new cleaning tasks I noticed the blood puddle again. It seemed that Willy’s attention went the same route: “Have you seen the movie…?”

My headache grew stronger again so my patience shrank less: “I am sure I have… Get to the point! What else might happen?”

“They found a skeleton in a wardrobe there… in that movie!” Willy continued.

“Come on! Do you suggest there might be a body in my wardrobe?” I started to doubt Willy’s theories. I needed some rest before continuing the bustle, so I sat down on the same, dirty sofa: “There was lots of alcohol yesterday. Most likely someone got too drunk and crashed his glass by hurting his hands. Or something else happened… as ordinary as that.”

“Still there is the mystery of lost Jenny, so…” Willy turned around and went towards the kitchen, “I am hungry, making some sandwiches. Want some?”

“Yeah!” I tuned up the volume of my voice just for this confirmatory answer to get silent again. The missing Jenny… I surely did not remember her leaving and it seemed neither Willy. I was certain George said goodbyes, Zane and Richard, Wilma… everybody, but Jenny. I had a quite big three room apartment with some built-in closets and a storeroom. As I had been slow enough that day, note to get out of the living room yet… the room being my bedroom the previous night as well. What if she was still alive, but injured somewhere here. Or on the other hand she might be not so alive, but hidden in… my wardrobe, for example.

I had to find Jenny if she was somewhere there and I decided to start with the wardrobe. Shortly after getting up to check the wardrobe I heard a strange sound from the kitchen. I was pretty sure it was the sound of the largest knife being taken of the magnetic holder. Why did Willy need a knife as there were lots of bread, cheese, vegetables, wursts previously cut for the party?

I had always been curious… so I had to check what was going on in the kitchen. Willy had to have heard me coming as he turned as soon as I entered. And there it was – the cleaver in Willy’s right hand, but the table behind him was covered with blood and probably some other body juices. He smiled unpleasantly and asked: “Are you looking for something? Or somebody?”

“What are you doing here? What is that? Blood?” my voice got more and more nervous with every word I said, “Is that Jenny? Why…”

Willy’s smile became even more unpleasant. He peeped into my eyes and suddenly threw something at me. They say that a person shortly before his death can see his whole life right in front of the eyes. I did not get the full movie, but it was certainly as good as a teaser. Most likely I was to be killed by a thrown knife as I saw no way to avoid the collision. And in a moment I felt it… It was something wet and all over my face and t-shirt.

It smelled and tasted like... “A watermelon?” I was surprised.

“A ripe watermelon! Want some for eating as well?” Willy asked.

“Sure...” I exhaled, “I just thought it was…”

“Some blood?” Willy asked sarcastically.

“Just that blood stain in front of the sofa…” I was looking for some excuses, “Never mind!”

“And the case of missing Jenny?” Willy tried to get my mind back to all mysterious.

“Especially that” my interest rose again, “Do you know anything?”

“Sure! You have to drink less to avoid headache and your vivid, but manipulable imagination!” I decided to let Willy to continue without snapping anything back. “Have you ever tried to call Jen’? If you had, you would know she’s being home safe and sound!”

“Why do I not remember, how she left?” I wanted to argue his logic, knowing I had not been too logical myself so far.

“You were too drunk and already asleep,” Willy’s answer cleared it all out.

Still I felt I had to find a way to verify my suspicion had at least some reason: “Then what about the blood stain in front of the sofa?”

“You just ate that. At least a part of that,” Willy did not give a free space for my questions or surprisal phrases, “It was your experiment trying to make a new cocktail. There was a watermelon, a liquor and something else, no idea what, in it. You brought that for everybody to taste, but spilled it all over the sofa and on the ground. So, we have no idea how it tastes.”

I gave a deep sigh. Heavy drinking had always caused heavy headache and tiredness… risen my imagination… made me to look like an idiot in eyes of others. And drinking at my place had always lead to a tiresome cleaning. I really had to drink less… probably less in oftenest and surely less in amount. Let’s keep that idea! At least till the next Friday…