Clubhouse - a Mickey Mouse story

64

Clarabelle dressed herself in big sunglasses, wrapping a pink silk scarf around her head. Mickey tried his best to be unrecognizable and they hit the Mouse Mansion, where Mickey packed his things and took the money. He stopped in mid step. The money in the vault was gone.
Clarabelle was waiting in the car.
Just then he realized Minnie wasn't home.
The secret stash was gone.
He lit a cigar and started for the car, a bad feeling in his stomach, but he was stopped halfway down the driveway by a cluster of reporters.
"Mickey Mouse, is it really you?"
"'Course it's me, who else could it be?"
"What do you think of all that's been going on with your cast lately?"
"W-what about my cast?"
"You haven't heard?" said a bewildered blonde in a red pantsuit. "About Donald Duck's death and Goofy's meltdown?"
"And surely you've heard of Minnie Mouse's disappearance," another added.
Mickey's heart stopped. He said nothing, but ran for the car. He put on the seatbelt and drove his way through them, careful not to hit anyone, which was unusual behaviour.
As he drove downtown, he quickly googled Goofy's case. The reality star is now staying in Gateways Behavioural Health Centre, Los Angeles. He put it in his GPS.
"What are you doing?" said Clarabelle.
He turned his eyes from the road to stare into hers. "Baby, you know I love you, I can't get enough of you," he said, "but right now this is so much more important."
He found his way to the psychiatric hospital and rushed in. Clarabelle followed behind him shyly. They went in and Mickey told the desk lady he was a close friend of Goofy's and had an emergency visit. They lead him to room 281. Max Goof was waiting outside the door, arms crossed, and Mickey sped right past him into the room.
"What's his deal?" Max asked.
"God knows," said Clarabelle.
Inside, Goofy was awake, with sickly bloodshot eyes glued to the wall. He look dreadful.
Mickey approached him carefully, and he didn't acknowledge him.
"Goofy," said Mickey.
He looked up slowly. "Mickey?" His face was hard and sad but emotionless at the same time.
"Goofy, what happened?" he asked. "I can't believe I didn't know about all of this."
"Donald Duck is dead," said Goofy absently.
"I know, I heard. Man, it's good to see you. I haven't seen anyone but the bottom of the bottle in weeks, if you know what I mean." He forced a weak laugh. "So, what's all this deal? Where is Minnie?"
"Donald Duck is dead," he repeated.
Mickey furrowed his brows. "Bud, I know. Sorry...I guess. But...where is she? Does anyone know?"
"He's dead!" Goofy cried, so loud Mickey's ears started to hurt. Max opened the door and pulled him out. He said in a low voice, "You can't talk to him like that."
"Like what? Look, kid, you can't tell me what to do."
"That's my dad in there!"
"Oh, yeah," said Mickey. "Well, what do you know?"
"I was screwing your wife because you weren't enough for her, that's what I know," said Max through gritted teeth. "And I know that if you weren't such a douchebag she'd still be around."
"Who knew she'd stoop so low," said Mickey. "Wait, so you know where she is?"
"No one does. The only thing I know is that she was pregnant with my baby and she left because of you!"
Mickey's heart stopped. He nearly gasped.
"I could have had a life with her. I loved her. And I loved our baby. I still love that baby. And I still love her. That was my baby. It was. It was."
Mickey was bewildered. He turned and ran out of the building.