The Housekeeper [h.s.]

Route 45

I was sitting outside the Hilton High hotel, waiting for this Mathew guy to show up. There was no sight of anyone with a black hoodie and a big, grey vehicle. He better come soon before I bought a ticket back to London.

"Hey" a dark voice said from behind me. I turned around to see a tall, big man wearing a black hoodie. "Are you Harold?"

I groaned. "It's Harry."

When people called me Harold, it made me want to strangle myself.

''Oh, Ron told me your name was Harold.''

Why, of course he did.

''I'm guessing you're Mathew'' I spat.

He nodded, and went over to what appeared to be his car. The grey, big vehicle was humming as he opened the trunk. ''Here they are'' he said and nodded me over.

Nervous, I walked over to see the deliveries he had brought. My eyes widened open. What the fuck was Ron thinking? That a 20 year old could bring all this junk from one country to another? I didn't have much experience with dealing through countries, only cities. What a screwed up idiot.

''Amazing, right?'' Mathew said, eyeing the weed with crystals in his eyes.

''Amazing?? What-this is not amazing! I have to get this to London, all of it! I don't even have a car to bring it with'' I said, browned off.

''Oh, Ron said you could use this car to bring it to Las Vegas by the way'' he said.

''Ah, thank God'' I breathed out relieved. The thought of me having to get a vehicle big enough for all that weed anytime soon didn't sound too good. For once Ron actually did me a favour.

He's not doing you a favour, Harry, he's doing this for himself.

Mathew left after a while, giving me the keys to the car and some advice on which route to drive home, which one was the safest. He was actually a proper guy. Most of the guys I had met in this business was straight up douchebags. I was lucky he wasn't one of those. Some of them were really dangerous as well, and they could easily kill me anytime, anywhere.

He told me to take route 45, so I decided to trust him on that. It was nighttime, so it seemed pretty quiet. None of the boys had called me yet, something I found very strange. They were probably so hungover from the other night.

Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Ron. I had completely forgotten that he was gonna call me.

''Yes?'' I answered harshly.

I heard him laugh in the other line. ''You know, we don't have to be like this to eachother, Harry. We could be best buddies!''

I chuckled half-heartedly. "Oh, you're calling me Harry now? I thought my name was Harold" I said, pointing out his little joke with Mathew. ''And I think you kind of ruined that chance a long time ago, Ron.''

I was sick of his chit-chat. Why wouldn't he just get to the point? I would much rather listen to the radio than this bullshit.

He laughed his fake, ugly laugh again. "Well, I'm glad you liked my joke", he said before he comtinued. "Oh well. You're on your way, I hope?" He asked after a while.

I heard Mikes squeaky voice in the background. He was always with Ron. Poor guy, didn't have anywhere else to go. His mother was a junkie and his father was in prison. Ron let him follow him everywhere for some reason, something I couldn't understand. I knew I wouldn't handle his nagging 24/7.

I nodded, before I realized he couldn't see me. "Yes, I am. Got the deliveries in the trunk." My voice was sounding oddly cocky, like I was proud of myself for doing this.

"Good. Which route are you driving?"

Before, I was afraid of that question, but now I didn't have to worry about that. Mathew told me which one was the safest, so I didn't have to deal with Ron's yelling because it was the wrong route.

"Route 45. Mathew told me to drive this route. That this was the safest" I answered.

There was a sudden, long silence from the other line. Why wasn't he replying?

"You have got to be kidding me" he spoke after a while.

I furrowed my eyebrows. This didn't sound too good. "What? What's wrong?"

I could hear him sigh and Mike nagging in the background, asking what was wrong and why he looked so angry and upset. "You took advice from Mathew??"

"Yes, I did. Why?" I asked, nervous of what I would hear next.

"Route 45 is the least safest route you can drive, Harry. You can never trust a junkie on his word. I thought I taught you that a long time ago."

My jaw dropped, and my heart started beating faster. He had fooled me. Mathew fooled me. Of course he did. How could I be so blind? It was obvious. He was one of Rons little friends, and a junkie. I couldn't possibly get any more stupid.

"Fuck" I breathed out, feeling hopeless. "What the hell should I do now?"

He took a deep breath before he spoke. "Turn around, and drive 4 miles till you get to route 43, alright? That's the safe one."

"Yeah, okay" I said dull, not bothering to say thanks because I knew he didn't help me to be kind, he did it for himself. I wasn't that stupid to actually think for one second that Ron thought about anyone else but himself.

I drove till I found a useable turn to the right, and quickly turned the car around. This had to happen fast. I didn't want the police on my back. Neither did Ron.