If Looks Could Kill

Chapter 4: The Colonel

I wake up to the sound of a small cat hacking up the hair ball of a much larger cat. In reality, I think it's Reggie. Looking over, I see him sitting up in bed and staring at the opposite wall as he makes that awful sound. He goes on for a little longer before realizing that I'm sitting up and staring at him.

He slowly turns his head towards me, "My throat itched."

I nod and turn away, letting him continue because I've had a few throat itches in my day.

"What is that noise?" Beth sits up with her mask still on. This is easily the most distraught I've ever seen her.

"Reggie's throat itches," I simply tell her as she removes her mask.

"It sounds like a garbage disposal," Blake says, still lying down. I didn't even realize he was awake.

"Can a guy just itch his throat in peace?" Reggie snaps at us. We sit there in silence until Reggie's done.

Once he's done, he looks over at me, "So, what's in store for today?"

I climb out of the bed and head over to my backpack. Reaching into it, I pull out my map to see what our next stop will be.

"We're going to see Colonel Sanders," I tell them, folding my map back up and shoving it into my backpack.

"I mean," Blake finally sits up, "we won't all see Colonel Sanders."

We all turn and look at Blake. No one says anything, we just let him feel our eyes on him. He doesn't indicate if he knows that we're all looking at him but, he sits with a smug smile on his face.

"Is that breakfast?" Reggie bolts up and goes over to the bags of snacks that Blake and I bought last night (this morning?). He doesn't wait for an answer before ripping through a pack of off brand pop tarts. He's too focused on his snacks to ask where they came from. Beth, however? I honestly think she could care less.

We all take turns in the bathroom, putting on clean clothes and brushing our teeth. It's exciting to know I'll be meeting the man—or the wax figure—that birthed the most delicious mashed potatoes and mac n cheese that my mouth has ever had the pleasure to taste. Just the thought of them makes my mouth water. We pack up our things, Blake making sure to grab the snacks, before heading back to the car.

Reggie tosses me the keys to his van, saying that it's my turn to drive. To my utter confusion, mild discomfort, and maybe possibly elation, Blake calls shotgun. Blake's a cool guy so why wouldn't I be happy to sit by him? I hook my phone up to the car and let Blake scroll through my music and choose the songs.

As we drive towards Louisville, we make a game of pointing out the states we see on license plates. Reggie seems to enjoy making up back stories for whoever's in the car. Though no one admits it, we all enjoy the stories he makes up.

"So, this guy over here is driving home from staying with his second family. Little does he know, his wife has found out about these little trips he's been taking and is waiting at home with a baseball bat for his return. Now, she's already thrown his things out on the street but, the baseball bat will really spook him."

He doesn't even pause to think of these stories. They roll off his tongue as if has had these ideas in his head for years. It's mildly unsettling, but overall entertaining. I try to imagine this trip if these three hadn't come. The idea seems almost depressing. I mean, I'm not really sure about Beth yet, but I guess it's better than being alone.

"Where did the snacks come from?" Beth asks from out of nowhere. I really thought everyone would just pretend like they appeared out of thin air.

"You know, I thought about that to," Reggie says as he opens a pack of pop tarts.