Lost Voyage by Chris Tucker

Author:Chris Tucker [Tucker, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-03-31T04:00:00+00:00

17

Donning a Seattle Mariners baseball cap over his ruffled auburn hair, his cloudy grey eyes scanned the lobby of the hotel he had just stepped into. Wearing a pink polo shirt with light beige pants, he looked like an American tourist cliché right down to a tee. To anyone who glanced at him, he just looked like a little old man who was a long way from home. The only thing he had in his possession was a set of golf clubs in a bag that displayed the name Callaway.

Colonel Hunt always brought his clubs with him no matter where he went in hopes to hit the greens every chance he got. However, with no golf course within a hundred miles from his current location, he wasn’t surprised to be getting the looks he was from other people in the lobby. With the clerk at the desk engaged in conversation with other guests, he decided it was time to put his plan into motion.

Bending over to pick up his clubs, he put the strap over his shoulder and stood up to reposition himself. Placing his hand on one side of the bag, he gave a firm push to swing it around his backside – a push that was intentionally too strong. The bag spun swung around, seemingly sending him spiraling out of control until he slipped and fell by the wayside. It created a scene big enough to catch the attention of everyone in the lobby.

The clerk left his post at the desk to rush to the aid of the fallen old man, where a crowd was gathering to see the spectacle.

“Please, give him some room,” said the clerk. “Are you okay, sir? Are you hurt?”

Hunt looked up with a dazed look in his eyes, pretending to be unsure of where he was. “Wha…what happened?”

“You had a fairly nasty fall. Just lay here for a minute. Are you hurt in any way?”

Still looking confused, he responded, “I…I think I pulled something in my back. I’m in quite some pain. Would you mind helping me up to my room?”

Playing the part of gracious host, the clerk replied, “Of course, sir. What room are you staying in?”

Pausing to respond, he continued his dazed look as if trying to remember what room he was in. He had gotten the room number from Dallas, but wanted to play the part of an injured and confused old man. After a few seconds of silence, he finally answered.

“Two twenty four.”

The clerk, who was a good six inches taller than the injured man, helped him up slowly. He was fairly skinny, but Hunt noticed he had a great amount of strength for his lanky body. Another hotel employee had arrived to help with the golf clubs and they made their way up the stairs slowly as Hunt let out a few moans of pain to be more convincing in his charade.

When they reached the corridor, the man with the golf clubs took a chair from the hallway and placed it next to the door of the room.

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