Chapter 2: Rundown Motel

  My mom started walking away – I could only follow. We continued waiting for our luggage. Time seemed to be slower than usual – Ten minutes . . . and then thirty minutes . . . and eventually an hour passed. After more than enough time of waiting, my mother got up and walked over to one of the airport workers to ask about our luggage. She told the worker about our situation and how we were coming from Japan because of I was pying in the World Cup. The worker told us that it probably got lost in between flights.

  I thought our bags could’ve been caught inside that waifu freak’s big meat rolls, but I guess I made a bad observation.

  “I’m truly sorry but there’s nothing we can do. Maybe you should try contacting the Otaru airport work things out with them.” The airport worker actually looked sympathetic.

  When I was finished processing what he said, I felt an aura of pure hatred next to me. Slowly looking at my mother's face flushed red, her jaw tightened, and her hands clenched into fists. She spoke in a low, sharp tone. Her face had an expression as if she wanted to kill someone. Calming her was the only thought that crossed my mind. The old hag of a mother told me to get up

  “Chi-Chi get up were leaving.”

  “O- Okay . . .” I was confused.

  – we were walking in the direction of the exit of the airport.

  Are we leaving? Aren’t we going to wait for our luggage?

  I wasn’t sure why my mom would be leaving without our stuff, but I decided not to question it. Now outside, we sat down at the nearest bench and my mom reached in her pocket to grab her phone. Hunched over her shoulder I saw her open the Uver app to get a ride to the apartment. For some reason there was a cheap Lamborghini ride, so she chose that one. After waiting on the bench outside for a while I got up and told my mom that I was going back inside the airport building to get something from the vending machine. At the vending machine the options were Joritos, Oval Crispy Treats and other snacks of that sort. To the right of the snack vending machine was a drink vending machine with all kinds of sodas and juices. I inserted a one-dolr bill and pressed D – 4 - 5 and a fruit punch dropped out. As I opened my drink I walked back to my mom, and we waited for around fifteen minutes.

  When our ride pulled up, the weird aura from earlier chilled over me again. We got scammed; the car we got on the app was supposed to be a Lamborghini – but the car that pulled up was an old broken down 1971 Ford Pinto. But the Ford logo was repced with a Lamborghini sticker.

  This looks hel sketchy. Maybe I should tell my mom.

  Before I could say anything, my mother got in the car.

  “Come on, what are you waiting for?” Clearly, she wasn’t fazed. I wasn’t completely sure if I should get in or not. After ten seconds of contempting, I leaned over and entered the car.

  The moment I got in, the driver pulled out and full throttled the gas pedal without giving me an opportunity to put my seatbelt on. Immediately scared for my life, I instinctively looked over at the speedometer. My mom’s face was visibly pale. Obviously, she was worried she was going to die any minute now.

  “Mom, he’s going forty miles over the speed limit.” I told my mom in a frightened tone.

  “We have to get help, or we’ll be dead soon.” My mother responded.

  A cop car eventually started chasing after us and we got pulled over. Someone had to have called the police on us. Apparently, the driver was a runaway ‘alien’ straight from Mexico smuggling ‘powdered donuts’ over the border. I immediately thought about ‘Mr. 2D Waifu Freak’. The officer thought we were affiliated with him and even after we told him everything, he said we were lying. We were thrown in jail for two whole days. While in jail, we met this big weird looking girl who is almost a spitting image of ‘Mr. 2D Waifu Freak’. I talked with her for a little bit, and she went on about how her father is a top ranked degenerate and loves to wear kitten ears and headbands. Plus the fact that he’s probably the most obese person she’s ever seen and that there's not a single company that makes t-shirts and pants sizes that are able to completely fit him.

  Yeah this is definitely his daughter. I can see the resembnce right down to the sheer weight.

  Two days ter, we finally got out and after another day we got to the apartment complex and signed in to get our room key.

  “Hello, what could I help you with?” The receptionist says nicely.

  “Sorry, give me a minute.” My mom pulled out her phone and shows the receptionist the email the FIFA president sent her. The receptionist understood and gave us the key to our room.

  “Okay, here are the keys for your room. Your room number is 257. If you go up the stairs and right down the hall to the right, you should see your room.”

  Huh – this pce kind of smells weird. I wonder what that’s all about.

  We followed the directions the receptionist gave us and after thirty seconds of walking, we got up to our room and I used the key to open the door, with my mother following right behind me. This pce doesn’t look too bad, I say as I exhaustedly jumped onto the bed.

  “I’m beat. This was a rough day.” I yed on the bed, not leaving room for anyone else.

  “Yeah, definitely a weird day. Also, Chi-Chi move over there's only one bed.”

  Great. Now I have to sleep with my mom. And I thought this day couldn’t get any worse. Why can’t she just sleep on the ground. What’s my luck.

  I scooched over, letting my mom have just enough room to y next to me. As I dozed off, now thinking about it, I just realized how tired I was. I’ve never had a day as crazy as this before. My mom woke me up and the sun had already risen – it ended up being the morning.

  “Get up sleepy head, you’ve been sleeping since 10:00. We have to leave. It’s time for haircuts.”

  “Right now, really? But mom, it’s so early in the morning. And why do I have to get a haircut anyways?”

  “Because your hair is too long and you won’t be able to see anything during your soccer games and practice, I’ve already told you this. Now hurry up and get ready.”

  “No please, It’s fine. I can see just fine. I don’t need a haircut.”

  The death stare she gave me was enough to completely wake me up. I knew she wasn’t in the mood for pying around so I got out of bed and got ready to leave. As we walked out of the apartment, I saw what this pce really was. There is clearly no custodial staff because there's trash everywhere. And when I say everywhere I mean everywhere. Dust bunnies danced in the dim light while on the grimy walls. A sour, musty odor hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of stale cigarettes. Crumpled wrappers littered the floor, and a sticky residue coated the cars. Not very apartment like. I’ve never been in an apartment before, but I was pretty sure they aren’t usually this dirty. My mom looked at me and asked if I noticed the funky smell surrounding us and I nodded.

  It smells like a literal decomposing body in here.

  While walking to the front of the apartment, every floor was stained with a sticky brown substance and had empty water bottles and trash bags filled to the brim with nasty items and other paraphernalia. There were even holes in the walls as well as feces and pee. I guess that expins the smell. Now completely out of the building, we looked back. Since it was dark when we got here yesterday, we weren’t able to see the outside of the apartment complex clearly. But even with the slightest gnce anyone could see that it was not an apartment but a rundown two-story motel. Almost abandoned looking even. Maybe around twelve years or so. My mom was holding back her anger. She’s always angry at everything, but I can understand it this time. Never in a million years would anyone think that an organization as big as FIFA would cheap out on us. She tried to disregard it and continued walking down the sidewalk, clearly enraged. While on our way, we noticed what seemed to be a homeless man right outside. He was slouched down sitting against the wall. As we walked past him, he asked for something–

  “Please, could you willing to spare me a couple of dolrs.” He said in a begging tone. Just by looking at him, I could tell he was starving and obviously in need of some food or money.

  “Sorry, but we’re kind of in a hurry–” My mother said before I cut her off.

  “Indeed! Thou art welcome to a singur dolr, noble sir.” I said while giving him a gentlemen’s bow – I reached for my wallet and handed him the only money I had.

  “W- What are you doing? We need to go, or we’ll be te for your haircut.” The old wretched hag of a mother decred. She doesn’t have the slightest care about some helpless nobody off the street that she doesn’t even know.

  “Dost thou not see that this man is in need of aid?” I looked at my mother and rebutted with a goofy inflection.

  “Thank you, young man. Thank you so very much. I’m ever so grateful and forever in your debt.” The man says.

  With my mom behind me, I leaned toward him and whispered in the homeless man's ear.

  “Assist me, good sir! This mysterious woman doth impose upon me the cruel task of shearing my own hair!” I said jokingly as I quickly leaned away, waiting for a response.

  “Well – I don’t know what’s too popur with the kids these days but while out living on the streets I’ve heard talk about something called the– the– . . . Gosh darn, what was it called again?” The homeless man tried to think. Standing on the street myself, I wondered what he was going to say.

  “Oh, that’s it! It’s something called the l- low taper fade. Maybe you should try it. Though, it’s not like I know anything about haircuts – I haven’t even been inside a barber shop for over seven years.”

  “What the hell is that? Some ancient Greek spell or something?” My mother mumbled under her breath while pondering.

  Hmm . . . I’ve never heard of a low taper fade before. Maybe I should get it and see how it looks. I mean if it turns out bad, it’s not like my hair can’t grow back.  What’s the worst that could happen?

  “Interesting. I have not yet heard of such a thing before. I shall tempt mine fortune upon said shearing. Truly, I am most thankful to thee.” I said while watching the man smile wholesomely.

  “You’re so goofy sometimes, Chi-Chi. I’m so proud of you as well.” My mother said with a loving tone.

  “Let’s get going.” Me and my mother made our exit as we waved the man goodbye. We stood in aw because out of nowhere, the homeless guy got up and walked over to a liquor store a few buildings down while chuckling to himself to not trust random people on the street. We stood still for a moment in disbelief. A second ter he comes out of the store with a big bottle of hard booze and a packet of cigarettes.

  “M- Maybe I shouldn’t have given him the money?” I blurted out while slowly gazing upon my mother with an awkward look on my face.

  I can’t tell if she’s mad or not . . Hopefully she won’t be. I did do the morally right thing after all; helping the less fortunate . . . It looks like she’s about to say something. Please don’t be mad. Please don’t be mad.

  “It’s okay, you didn’t know. Next time just make sure they won’t spend your money on stuff like that.” She tried to force a smile, but it failed. A look of aggravation pnted itself on her face.

  “O- Okay, I’ll make sure next time don’t worry.”

  “Now let’s go get that haircut of mine!” I awkwardly ughed as I tried to switch the subject–