Creative Writing: Winston Little part 2 of 3
The opening paragraph seems to have randomly bolded itself. Weird.
Winston’s mom returned to find him at the computer in his room hastily scribbling down data in a notebook. She had to computer facing away from the door, so Winston hadn’t noticed when she came in. She walked over and tapped him on the shoulders, “Working hard on your homework?”
Winston jumped, nodded, and stood up. He looked up at his mother and said, “Mom, I’m sorry for how I behaved earlier. I was just frustrated.” Winston’s mother was shocked. She accepted the apology but then Winston continued talking. “But I do want to change something. I want to run my next operation.”
“What? By yourself?” Winston’s mom sat on his bed, head cocked in confusion. “Winston, you’re only twelve years old. You’re only in sixth grade!”
“And I already have the lives of hundreds on my shoulders.” Winston interrupted. “Look, mom, just for this month I want to handle it myself. After that, we can do all of them together. Is that a deal?”
Biting her lip, Winston’s mother sat and thought for a second letting silence hang in the room. “Okay,” she finally said, “but if you are having any troubles. Ask for help.”
Winston agreed and moved to the living room to make a phone call. Winston poked in the number he had just recorded in his notebook. Within three rings, Winston found himself speaking directly to the secretary of the CEO of Aveyton pharmaceuticals.
“Hello, Aveyton Pharmaceuticals, how may I help you?”
“Hi, my name is Winston Little, and I would like to speak with your boss.”
“Um, if you have a problem with our product, you can speak to our complaints division. The number is 1- 555-”
“No ma’am,” Winston interrupted, “I would like to speak to your boss about an unreleased product of yours. MyxoPartal Carcinocide.”
The woman’s tone changed abruptly. “Listen, kid. I don’t know who you are, but I’ve never heard of that product in my life. Why are you prank calling hard working men and women like us?”
Winston heard the receiver slammed down on the other end. He had anticipated some resistance, but not as much rage. And why had the woman told him that she had never heard of MPC? Winston thought about how confusing that interaction was while he started to dial the second number he had written down in his notebook. The phone rang once before someone picked up. Winston spoke in his best, most adult voice.
“I’d like to order a taxi pick-up to this address.”
Twenty minutes later, Winston saw the taxicab pull up from where he had been excitedly waiting in the front windows of the house. He took the pre-paid debit card his mother had given him - loaded with exactly 200 dollars, told his mother that he had to go to a meeting with a pharmacist, and left the house.
As Winston approached the cab, the cab driver quirked an eyebrow. Winston yanked open the back door and climbed in.
“Hey, hey, kid. What’r’you doin’? You can’t just jump in, this cab is waitin’ fer someone.”
“That was me. I called.” Winston pointed at the number bearing his home address. “That’s my address.”
“Where’s your parents, kid? You runnin’ away from home?”
“My dad died when I was little and my mom is inside watching television.”
“Look, kid. I can’t just take you.”
Winston felt like crying. He clutched his notebook tightly to his chest. He looked at the words he had copied onto the front cover “We are sorry to inform you…” Winston took a deep breath and tapped the driver on the shoulder. The man turned around and caught Winston looking him dead in the eye.
“Look, sir. You know the pill kid, the one off the TV who saves lives? That’s me. I’m the pill, kid: Winston Little.” The cab driver’s mouth hung open. Winston continued, “I’m on a mission to save some lives and I need your help here.” Winston pulled his card out of his pocket. “I’ll pay for the ride, just please, Help me out.”
“You’re Winston Little?” asked the cab driver, flabbergasted. Winston nodded. The cab driver turned around and started the cab. “Winston Little rides for free in my car,” he announced proudly. Winston was barely able to strap on his seatbelt before the car went kicking down the road.
An hour later, Winston was at the headquarters of Aveyton pharmaceuticals, a skyscraper in the Moebius district. The cab driver wished Winston luck before he drove off. Winston checked the address in his notebook and then walked in.
The lobby was arranged like a waiting room. There was a reception desk behind which a woman stood, looking inquisitively at the pre-teen who had just walked in. To the left there was a large fish tank, which covered the wall. On the right was an old couch. Winston approached the receptionist.
“Hello, my name is Winston. I would like to speak to your boss.”
The woman popped her gum loudly. “What do you want with the head of the HR department?”
Winston had no idea what HR meant but he knew that she had misunderstood. “I want to speak to the CEO, Louis Aveyton. I know he works out of this building and I know that he has five minutes to talk to me. It could save a life.”
“I’ll send him an e-mail.” The woman said. There was a silence as both people stood motionless.
“Aren’t you gonna send it?”
“Oh, what? Uh, yeah.” The woman started typing on her computer. Winston watched and then went to sit down and wait.
A half-hour later, the woman called out. “You still here?”
“I’m waiting until I see Mr Aveyton.”
The woman scoffed and went back to typing. Winston sat back down and continued reading through the medical text that he had found by the couch. It wasn’t particularly interesting, but it occupied the time. Men and women who worked for Aveyton would walk in and see Winston sitting there.
Time passed, Winston started to occupy himself watching the fish in the tank swim around. He was absolutely horribly bored. His stomach was starting to tear at him, because he hadn’t eaten in seven hours. Every time he asked, the receptionist responded that she hadn’t gotten a response and Winston would go back to sitting and watching the fish. Eventually the receptionist left, her shift had finished and it was time for her to go home. Another receptionist came in to fill her spot for the night shift. The second woman was shorter, with blonde hair.
The second woman was more sympathetic to Winston’s situation. After Winston explained his situation, the woman enthusiastically hopped on the computer to send another emali to the CEO.
“Um…” she scrolled confusedly up and down the screen. Winston was concerned. “April never sent an e-mail to the CEO. She left her account open and she didn’t send anything.”
Winston stomped away from the table and threw himself down in a huff on the couch.
“Aww, don’t worry. I’ll send it.”
“I’ve been here for seven hours waiting for a response. The other lady, she seemed so nice, but then she was so mean .Why did she do that?”
The receptionist looked sad as she typed the e-mail. Winston sat himself down on the couch and waited. Within five minutes, the receptionist jumped. “Oh, Winston, he responded. He said he’ll see you now if I escort you up.”
Winston followed the receptionist to the elevator. They rode together to the 53rd floor where Louis Aveyton himself was waiting with a smile on his face.
“You wanted to talk to me, Winston?”
Posted on Tuesday February 7th
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