This choice: Randall arranges to meet up. • Go Back...Chapter #6Randall arranges to meet up. by: Wassel   For the rest of the evening you waited to hear back from Randall. Constantly checking your phone for any missed calls or texts, as well as your email. Hoping that he'd get in touch with you through one of these things. You received nothing sadly. Growing more and more anxious as you sat there in your bedroom waiting. Imagining every single conceivable possibility as to what had happened to him. Was he now some weird mis-mash Frankenstein type creation? Was that why he was in hiding? Too hideous to be seen. Which would explain why his parents wouldn't want anything to do with him... Alice, being the God-fearing type, presumably thinking him some sort of abomination or something. Though he had said brain transplant and that was what you'd also overheard back in the hospital. Could they have? Could the doctors have really put his brain inside someone else's body? And if so... who's?
All these questions and more rattled through your brain as you sat there. Growing ever more impatient.
Eventually, in an effort to distract yourself, and perhaps get a few answers at the same time, you headed downstairs to question your parents. Neither of them having made any indication that they had known anything about this, but you had to be sure. Asking them if there had been anything weird with the either Randall's parents or the doctors back at the hospital. Realizing now of course that Alice's and Mr. Davis' reaction at the funeral suddenly made a lot more sense.
"Weird? How do you mean, son?" your father replied. Still appearing oblivious.
"You know, like any hushed conversations... Mentions of any weird kind of surgery or anything."
Your parents looked at each other. Clearly concerned by this line of questioning.
"No. Not that we noticed," your mother said. "We were far too busy worrying about you. Why do you ask?"
Though tempted to tell them the exact reason (not getting any sense that either of them actually knew anything), you managed to refrain. Getting the impression from how cryptic Randall was being that he didn't want anyone else to know. Not wanting to betray his trust now, even if he had just left you hanging. Figuring that, He'll get back to me when he can. I'm sure of it.
"Oh, no reason," you instead told them. Quickly covering yourself, "I must have been imagining things. I was pretty out of it back then."
"Well, you have been through a lot. We all have."
Wasn't that the truth.
Though expecting to hear again from Randall that same night, it wasn't until the following day that you actually did. After spending the best part of 24 hours pretty much going out of your mind. You were incredibly relieved then when you saw his text. Though noted strangely enough that it was from a cell number you didn't actually recognize. Definitely not being Randall's.
Randall: Soz I had 2 bail b4. Things are so crazy right now. I really want 2 tell u everything but I'm not sure how. Do u wanna meet up?
You: Sure. U wanna come over now?
Randall. 2 risky. Need 2 meet somewhere neutral. Can u meet up Saturday?
You didn't have anything planned for Saturday as far as you were aware, and even if you did there was no way you wouldn't blow it off to meet up with your friend. Giving him an enthusiastic reply of "sure thing". Randall informing you then that he'd give you more specific instructions nearer the time. Still remaining rather vague about just what exactly was going on.
If waiting the best part of a day to hear back from him had been excruciating, waiting two more days was even worse. Your mind continually throwing up scenario after scenario of horrible things that might have happened to him. None of which satisfied you though. Being far more eager to discover the actual truth rather than just sit there speculating, as well as finally see your best friend again. This thought more than anything being what was really keeping you going.
And so, two days later when Saturday morning arrived, you received yet another message from Randall telling you to meet him at The Rand Hotel at noon. Room number 32.
Rand Hotel...? What's he doing there? you wondered. Having expected somewhere more akin to the mall or a diner or something. Somewhere much more 'Randall' than a hotel. Still, you tried not to dwell on it too much. Happy that you were actually going to see him again. After nearly three months of thinking he was dead. Who cares where you met up, just so long as you actually did.
Telling your parents that you were going out for a while, you jumped on a bus and made your way into town. Finding The Rand without too much trouble and heading on in. It being a nice enough place. Not too cheap, yet not too expensive. Skipping the rigmarole of stopping off at reception, seeing as you already knew the room number (and doubting Randall would be using his real name anyway).
God, I really hope he's okay, you thought to yourself during the elevator ride to the third floor. What both he and the doctors had said about a brain transplant sticking in your mind. Would he still be the same Randall you knew? That you'd grown up with these last 13 years? Would it be that same goofy practical joker that answered the door, or someone else entirely? This question being answered not two minutes later when you located his room and knocked on the door. The person who answered it not being at all who you imagined...
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