Paranormal Neighbor Prologue: Interviews - Part One

This is a third of a prologue I'm writing for my novel. Tell me how you like it!

At the Jones’ household there was uproar going on in Rose and George Jones’ television room.

“Rose, honey,” said George. “It’s four ‘o’ clock. That means Opal’s on. And where is Billy? Opal Carefree said that she was interviewing adolescants from around the world this week, and I wanted Billy to watch it with me.”

Billy was Rose and George’s pre-teen son who’d just started sixth grade. Even with but two weeks of his brand new school year, he was all ready failing or close to failing in all of his classes. He wasn’t an intellectual nor was he stupid; he just chose not to pay attention in class.

“George, that show is sissy!” exclaimed Rose, and with that, turned the television on. Following that, she changed the channel to the station Opal was on.

“Hi, in case you didn’t all ready know, I’m Opal Carefree,” she explained, sitting on her wonderful leather couch on her Broadway-sized stage, legs crossed. “Recently, I’ve been going around, interviewing adolescent boys and girls from different countries, states, cities, and towns as a part of my special, ‘The Younglings of Today, The Future of Tomorrow’. Today, I have three young tweens here today from Samestown…”

“Samestown?” George wondered, scratching his head. “Why does that sound familiar?”

“Maybe it’s because you live there?” Rose replied. She headed toward their kitchen. “I’m going to get a snack, do you want anything?”

“No thanks honey.”

On TV, a young boy from back stage had some type of adrenaline rush. He, attempting to make a grand appearance on television, rushed through the red velvet curtains, the curtains blocking the world from seeing his “wonderful” face.

He wrapped around them like a ballerina in a tutu, doing an elegant spin. Still, this strange child continued on, for no matter what obstacle lay before him, he was willing to get on that stage and meet Opal Carefree.

The audience was shocked, stricken by awe.

This youth tried to dash though the curtains, obviously not thinking at all. His anxiety of the empty, hollow stage played a vivid picture in his mind. He could just see the bright lights shining forth on him; he could hear Opal’s voice, so soft and caring.

These neurotic pictures in his hollow brain brought, apparently, a sensation of excitement, worry, fear, and happiness. Maybe this is why this strange child rushed through the curtains so hastily that he head-on ripped them like a knife.

“Rose!” shouted George, glued heavily to the TV, “I think our son is on television. That means I’m the father of a child star.”

-BILLY-

The boy, breathing, panting unsteadily, somehow managed to waddle to Opal’s couch, where he tried to sit down beside her. “Security!” shouted Opal.

About a quarter dozen security guards came to Opal’s rescue.

“What’s the problem?” one guard asked, his voice dull and unintelligent.

“Ya,” said another, however, this security guard had a heavy Swedish accent. “You make us come all the way from backstage and all we find is you and some boy in a dress.”

Opal’s face was beat red. “It’s not a dress,” explained Carefree, trying to keep calm, pointing at this boy. He smiled, adoring the televised attention. She couldn’t take it. Opal then let it all out. “It’s not a dress, it’s the curtains. This malevolent boy took my beautiful curtains!”

“Well,” stated an obese third guard, “he’s got good taste.” The other guards laughed.
The corpulent security guard faced the other guards. “Come on guys, if we’re lucky, we can get a couple donuts and some coffee at Krispy Crud before they close down for the night.

All of the guards agreed and were on their way.

“But you can’t!” shouted Opal. “You work for me! Besides, you shouldn’t be in any rush. It’s four ‘o’ clock; Krispy Crud doesn’t close until ten thirty.”

The three guards stopped and faced Carefree. “Well, I guess that means we…” started the unintelligent guard. “Wait, what’s the word?”

“I think he was going to say ‘quit’,” finished the Swedish guard. “Ya!”

“Security guards,” grumbled Carefree. “My tolerance for them is smaller than their IQ, I swear.”

The boy stared at Opal with his deep brown eyes in total empathy and understanding, as if he were to say something poetic or intelligent or something worth reading this long description. “Tell me about it,” he said. Well, it was none of those things.

Opal Carefree gave this pre-teen a long look, curtains shriveled around his body. She looked right at him, eye to eye, and finally long-awaited words were deposited from her lips. “Who the heck are you?”

He swiftly jumped onto Opal’s couch. “I’m Billy Jones. My phone number, you ask?”

Opal interrupted. “No, Willy.”

“That’s Billy.” She almost got my name right. She was only short one letter. Am I in Heaven? he thought.

“Okay, Billy.” She said Billy scornfully. “You see, I interview people as an occupation…”

“Occu-patient? You’re a doctor too?”

“Occupation, it means a job, and no, I’m not a doctor.”

Billy frowned. “That’s too bad because I’ve been getting a lot of arthritis pain lately and I can’t sleep at night and…”

Opal heavily sighed while Billy mumbled on. “Do even know what arthritis means?” she asked.

He stopped his rant and thought for a moment, “No, not really.”

She smirked. “That’s what I thought. As I was saying before, I interview people as an occupation; it’s what I do. I don’t abuse this authority by getting famous peoples’ phone numbers…”

Billy opened his mouth, as if to say something.

She sighed. “Or non-famous people…”

He still kept his mouth open.

“Or kids…”

Still, his mouth stayed wide open.

“Or the paparazzi, wait, how far do you want me to go with this? You’ve all ready universally made a fool of me on national TV, what more do you want?” There was no response. “Billy?” Still, no response. “Billy?” She snapped her fingers in his face. Again, no response. “Billy!” she shouted, pounding in his eardrum.

Billy was shocked. “Sorry, I must’ve had another daydream. Did you say something?”

Opal Carefree’s face turned fire hydrant red and you could almost see smoke coming out of her ears. “Go right now!” she shouted.

“Sorry Opal, went before I came, but if you really want me to, I can. I just need something to drink. Besides, I don’t need much; my doctor says I have an over reactive bladder anyway and…”

“I don’t want to hear about your strange urinary problems. I just want you to leave!”

Billy looked confused. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” he asked, walking backstage.