EMPTY GLASS

EMPTY GLASS

"You watch the street."
"Why should I watch the street? I have to do that every time we do a job."
"You heard what I said."
With a hard stern look, Robert Knotts, nickname "Little Bobby", got out of the van. Little Bobby quietly pressed the passengers' door closed on the conversion van. His partner, Tony "T.T." Tent drove and owned the van. This left T.T. behind the wheel for a quick get away, if it became necessary.

With the van parked in a grove of trees behind 1313 Blunt Street, Little Bobby quietly made his way to the rear door of the house. Equipped with burglary tools in his short jacket pockets, his plan was to break into the house through a window or door.

Forcing his way in was unnecessary. The rear door was unlocked. With a gentle turn of the doorknob, the door opened.
"Sweet but stupid." Little Bobby said, as he peered through the crack in the door
before entering, just to make sure the coast was clear.

The rear door opened into the kitchen of the single story house. Little Bobby entered and stood to the side as he quietly closed the back door. His eyes easily adjusted to the subtle light in the room.

Standing statue still, Little Bobby listened to any and every sound. As he listened, he identified the sound of a clock ticking somewhere in the house, then the sound of a radio, softly playing Big Band music. As he stood and listened, he heard other sounds, some he could identify, others he could not.

With the hour being after midnight, he made note of what he did not hear. He heard no snoring, no coughing, and no breathing. The house indeed seemed empty.

He had been in the hardware store buying a pry bar when he over heard, old man, Vance Roker say, he was going out of town in a couple of days, and would be gone for a week. To Little Bobby, this was an invitation to pay the old man's place a little visit. When Little Bobby thought Vance Roker had left town, he watched the house for two days, just to make sure no one was there.

Feeling comfortable that he was alone, Little Bobby looked around the kitchen and noticed a glass that appeared to be empty on the kitchen table. He did not study the dark stain in the bottom of it. The glass was positioned, as if someone had just had a drink, and left it sitting on the table. This did not appear unusual; he did it all the time. The glass ignored, he started his search of the house.

T.T. sat in the van looking out the front windshield, studying the few cars as they passed. None of the drivers seemed to notice him.
"Every time we do a job, I have to wait in the van. I'm getting sick of waiting in the van." T.T. said to himself.

With the rear of the house being only sixty feet away, he could easily see the back door. Nervously, he lit another cigararette and continued to mumble to himself.

Little Bobby checked all the rooms one by one. He now found himself standing at the door to the last room. Little Bobby thought to himself, "This must be his bedroom, this is where all "old farts" keep the good stuff."

Entering the master bedroom, he shined his small flashlight around, taking care to keep it low, and away from windows. As the light moved around the room, it landed upon an old steamer trunk.

"Bingo, I found your treasure", Little Bobby whispered low to himself.
With casual ease, Little Bobby walked over, positioned the flashlight between his teeth and placed his hands on the top of the chest. With a slight tug upward, the top of the trunk opened. The next thing Little Bobby saw was the dead eyes of a woman he had seen around town. A sound caught his ear but before he could turn to see where the sound came from, his world went black from a blow to the back of his head.

T.T. watched as the patrol car inched slowly by. T.T. ducked down below the dash, in an attempt to hide. Listening and holding his breath, he waited. Finally, he heard the car move on.
"Where is he? He's been in there for almost an hour. Hurry up Bobby; I'm not going to jail because you are so slow." T.T. said to no one but himself.

Little Bobby awakened with a king sized headache. The man across the room was humming something Little Bobby had heard before. He tried to move his head, but the pain was too severe. He tried to move his legs but they would not move. He tried to setup. He could not. With considerable effort, he looked toward his right hand. That was when he then saw the ropes.

Fear as he had never known before, gripped him with steel fingers. He tried to struggle but the ropes held him fast. Tried to scream but, his mouth was taped shut. He was a prisoner. This he knew for sure.

The man turned his face toward the dim light. Little Bobby recognized him. It was Vance Roker. Roker looked into Little Bobby's eyes and smiled, he liked what he saw. Litttle Bobby was angry and trying to scream, but nothing came out. His anger soon turned to fear when he saw Roker reach back to the workbench, and pickup a twelve-inch butchers knife. Walking toward him, Roker bellowed an evil laugh, and began to talk.

"Bobby, it's nice of you to awaken and join me. I really detest having fun alone. In case you are wondering, I am the one that hit you. Then, you are the one that broke into my house. Did you see anything you wanted to steal?"
Roker spoke calmly, while slowly walking toward Little Bobby, with the knife in his hand. When he was standing beside the table looking down at Bobby, he placed the knife on Bobby's chest, and then continued with a smirk, and evil smile.

"Didn't your mommy teach you not to steal? If she did, you didn't listen however, if you had listened, you would not be here would you? Well, I'm glad you stopped by. Alice just couldn't give me anymore of what I wanted."

Little Bobby, now confused and very afraid, made no movement. He only looked at Roker and wished he had never set foot in Rokers house. Roker leaned down next to Bobby's ear and whispered, "You are probably wishing you had never come here tonight, aren't you, Bobby? That is my guess but, since you are here, and I have you, I'm going to make good use of your little visit."

From under the table, Roker produced a rubber tube, cut on one end with a large needle affixed to the other end. The tube he displayed proudly for Little Bobby to observe. Little Bobby tried again to scream but, he could not make a sound. He tried to struggle but was held fast by his bonds. He then wet his pants.

The Police cruiser passed T.T.'s van for a second time in less than an hour. T.T. began to get overly nervous.

"OK, Bobby, this is getting to hot. You got five minutes, and then you're on your own."

Another ten minutes passed and T.T.'s fear finally got the best of him. Starting the engine, he waited and hoped. Finally reasoning perhaps Little Bobby had gone out a differant way, he shifted the van into drive and eased out of the trees onto the street.
Seeing that the street was void of traffic, Tony, "T.T.", Trent turned right and quietly drove out of town. He was alone.
"I told you I was not going to jail for you and now you see I meant it. Yeah! That's what I'll tell him tomorrow. Yeah, I couldn't wait no longer."

Tony Trent talked to himself all the way home and continued until he fell asleep. However, there was no one around to respond.

The old, evil eyes of Vance Roker enjoyed the fear he saw in the eyes of Little Bobby. He enjoyed that fear so much, that, he explained in detail what he was going do to him. When he had finished laying out his plans for Little Bobby, he removed a chilled, quart glass pitcher from a refrigerator, which Bobby could not see.

Bobby's right arm was out stretched and tied to a wooden board attached to the table. He could only watch as Roker shoved the needle into a raised vein in his right arm. Roker cared not, that the needle was oversized.

Before Little Bobby could recover from the pain of the first needle, Mr. Roker produced a second. With much waving and circling of his arms, Little Bobby watch in horror as the man aproached and skillfully shoved the surenge into his neck and began filling a large vial of blood.

The pain was blinding. Every muscle in Little Boddy's body tried to respond, but with no success. Mr. Roker was delighted with Bobby's struggle and cared nothing about reusing dirty and huge needles or for that matter, the pain they caused. He was only interested in his life-supporting tonic.

The muffled scream Little Bobby made was heard by no one, and Roker only continued to laugh.

Roker then, with an evil glare said, "When you are all bled out, you can join Alice and the others in my basement for a nice long nap."

Robert "Little Bobby" Knotts grew colder and colder. He finally slipped into his eternal sleep. Tony "T.T." Trent fell asleep alone, talking to himself. .

Little Bobby now sleeps, yet not alone. He sleeps with Alice and the others.