Coaster by Lorena Bathey Page A

to the park. He had been laughing reading the entire story.
    However, now that it was done, he was a bit lost. Not knowing what came next and the mentions in the paper becoming fewer and fewer dissolved his focus.
    The high he'd been on was fading and he wasn't sure how to fill his time. He went on the internet finding forums with other people who were disgusted with the state of the nation and it helped a bit to rant. But the thrill he had gotten from planning his attack and the time it took enacting it was something he had gotten used to. Now there was too much time on his hands with nothing to fill it. The let down was palatable.
     
                                                                          ****
     
    The old man woke up and felt groggy and his head hurt. He drank too much last night. He put his hands to his head and opened his eyes. She was standing over him.
    Even with his hangover she scared him. "Holy shit. What are you doing?"
    Clara ignored his pain and stated. "I want to go to their house."
    "What? Whose house?"
    "Rachel's. I want to go to their house."
    He sat up slowly and shook his head even slower. "But the funeral is in a couple of days. Here. You can't go anywhere right now."
    Clara turned to leave the room, stopped and said. "I don't care about the funeral. I want to go to her house and I want to go today. If you won't take me then I'll go alone. I am calling the airlines now."
    Sitting up t he bile rose in his throat. His head was now throbbing. He looked at her back as she left the room and saw that streak of determination that he hated.
    "I'm not going to miss our daughter and grandchildren's service. If you want to go, then go. But you are going to regret not being here for that."
    Clara paused at the doorway and said over her shoulder. "I have to be near them."
    He could feel her pain. He understood but he also knew that even though she was crazy now, if she missed the service she would never forgive herself. "Clara, you can't go yet."
    She nodded and walked out of the room. He sat there with his head in his hands wondering what he was going to do now.
     
    Chapter Fourteen
     
    Roger shifted in his chair. He looked at the menu again, even though he already knew what he was going to order. The guy was late. Roger looked at his watch. The restaurant was swanky and not his usual place to eat. The waiters were wearing coats and bow ties and they were terribly efficient about filling his water glass.
    "Thank you." Roger nodded at the third waiter to top off his glass in the last few minutes.
    He saw a guy in a sleek suit and red tie move through the front door. Something told Roger this was who he was waiting for. The man looked like a lawyer with his slicked back hair and broad smile. He paused to talk with the hostess touching her arm. Roger watched as the man he assumed was Fernando Diaz conversed with the hostess making her blush and smile up at him. She pointed at Roger and the man made his way towards him. He moved effortlessly through the restaurant smiling at all the staff.
    "Mr. Merit. I apologize for being late. I was caught in court."
    Roger was sure that was probably his excuse for anytime he was late. "No, it's fine. I was just enjoying the ambiance."
    Fernando motioned the waiter over. "I'll have an ice tea. Mr. Merit, refill?" He pointed to Roger's beer glass.
    "No, thanks. I'm good."
    "Well, give me a minute Ernesto and we'll be ready to order." Fernando picked up the menu and looked through it and then set it aside. "So, Mr. Merit. It seems you are in a tough spot, eh?"
    Roger nodded. "You can call me Roger. Mr. Merit seems so formal."
    "Right, Roger it is." Fernando smiled. "Why don't you tell me why you think you need me?"
    Bef ore Roger could begin Ernesto made his reappearance and they both ordered their lunch. After the waiter left, Roger said, "I work at the amusement park where they had the explosion. I am the