CHAPTER 10- SERIOUS BUSINESS
After Don Robinson hung up the phone with Madison, he walked into his living room, where Dr. John Loomis sat on his couch, impatiently awaiting his return. While Don was on the phone, Sherry had managed to show Dr. Loomis every one of her dolls in her doll collection, and Loomis, just trying to be nice, sat back and took it with a smile.
Sheriff Robinson was in no mood for any of the boogeyman bullshit that Loomis was sure to bring him. But, as a man of the law and sheriff of the town, it was his duty to at least hear this nut case out, look into a few of his assumptions, and then send him packing as quickly as possible.
“Sherry, dear,” Don said as he passed through the archway into the living room, his boots thumping off of the shiny linoleum floor.
“Yes, daddy?” the young girl obediently replied, singing a little rhyme at the same time, probably something from TV.
“Your momma is upstairs packing and watching her soaps. Why don’t you go see if you can give her a hand while I take your new friend for a ride around town,” Don replied, pointing at Dr. Loomis.
“But daddy, I’m having so much fun playing with John,” Sherry stated, disappointed that the doctor had to leave so early.
“Now honey, I’m only going to ask you once,” Don responded, more sternly this time as he slipped on his jacket. “Your pal and I have some important business to tend to. Now go on and do as I say.”
“Oh, okay daddy,” Sherry answered somberly and walked up the stairs with her head down.
“Let’s go,” Sheriff Robinson stated firmly as he opened the door for John Loomis to exit. “I’m a very busy man and I’ve been told on quite a few occasions that I have a really short fuse. So, mister, you better make your point and make it quick before I stick a foot up your ass and send you packing.”
“Yes, yes of course Sheriff,” John replied, not paying any attention to the Sheriff’s rude attitude. “I promise I won’t take much of your time, as long as you take what I tell you seriously.”
“I take all business in my town serious, doctor,” Robinson responded as they both entered the police cruiser. “Now tell me, what in god’s name is going on?”
“As I’m sure you already know, Michael Myers has escaped from Smith’s Grove,” Loomis stated as he gazed out at the peaceful town of Haddonfield.
As soon as he heard the name Michael Myers, Sheriff Robinson just glared at Loomis, as if to say, ‘here we go again’. But he did decide he would hear him out, so he figured he would give him the benefit of the doubt. This time.
“Yes, I received the memo this morning,” Robinson informed him. “I was also told that my town has nothing to worry about since there are no living relatives of Myers here anymore, and that Michael had become somewhat rehabilitated prior to his escape.”
“Sheriff, I saw what was once a white room become completely red, red with the blood of innocent people that Michael killed during his so-called ‘rehabilitation’ right out of the Sanitarium,” Loomis said, raising his voice. “If I were you, I would heed my advice and call in the damn National Guard, because if my suspicions are correct, Michael may already be here in Haddonfield.”
“If you want your streets to remain gray and your grass in this town to remain green, and not red, then by god take me seriously.”
Sheriff Robinson showed no emotion. He only nodded and listened intently to everything Loomis had to say before breaking his silence once again.
“Then tell me, doctor, why would an official government memo lie to me? And how can you come here and order me around without any form of identification that says you are indeed a psychiatrist or anything of the sort?”
Loomis told him he was forced to turn in his ID when he was placed on a leave of absence, and he continued to explain the rest of the events leading up to his arrival in Haddonfield, but was afraid it had fallen upon deaf ears.
“Well, let me tell you something,” Robinson piped back. “The only reason I’m giving you the time of day is because of your uncle. Folks around here don’t seem to forget Sam Loomis or Michael Myers, especially around this time of year.”
“So, I tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m going to let you be and go about whatever business you feel you have with this town. I am going to alert my men, but not the media, and I’m going to double up the nightshift for the next couple of days. I will also add armed patrols on the areas you feel might be hot. There will be no National Guard, Marines, or anything like that. My men are highly trained police officers and are more than capable of handling any situation. Other than that, I bid you farewell and pray our affairs do not cross again.”
Loomis thought about arguing with him that no force was capable of handling Michael Myers, but then thought better of it as the sheriff brought his car to a stop in the precinct parking lot.
John reluctantly thanked the sheriff, and decided to get his cell phone number for a way to contact him in the future, if needed.
Then, left without a car, John began walking toward some familiar places, but not really expecting much action yet. It was tomorrow he was worried about.
Tomorrow was Halloween.
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