Sneak Preview: MEET MICKEY MURDER

Annette, age 9:

What was it that Mommy had said, exactly?

“Do not accept a ride in a car from anyone you do not know and trust”?

That was it, right?

Someone you know, is what she said.

And I knew him. Just a little. But I knew him.

I mean, I met him. At school. They brought him in to talk to us.

He was a doctor. Yes. They said he was a doctor.

He was nice.

Mommy said do not accept a ride from anyone you do not know…

And I remembered she said that. But I knew him. I met him at school. That day. He was brought in to talk with us, about being healthy. Him and a policeman and a fireman. And to talk about safety. He was a doctor. They said so.

So if he was brought in, by the school, to talk to us children, they must trust him, so I thought I could trust him…

Doctors are people you can trust. Right? They take care of us. Don't they?

I guess Mommy should have explained that part better, what know and trust mean exactly.

Trust.

I thought I knew what trust meant.

I thought it meant that the person you trusted would be nice to you…

That a person you could trust wouldn’t hurt you…

That a person you trusted would bring you home safely, like he said he would when he opened his car door and asked if I had ever ridden in a sports car – in the front seat!

I said no, because I hadn’t ever been in a sports car, in the back or front seat. And I wanted to ride in one. Especially in the front seat.

And I wanted to sit in the front seat of his sports car and go fast! Really fast! Because sports cars go fast! And it looked like fun!

But at first I said “No’, and he thought I meant no to the ride, but I meant no to “Have you ever ridden in a sports car in the front seat”?

I wanted to.

But I wasn’t sure if Mommy would get mad if I did.

I wasn’t big enough to be in the front seat. But his car didn’t have a back seat any way.

And I wasn’t sure if he would be someone Mommy would say I knew and trusted. But she must. I knew him. A little.

I only met him that day. But I did meet him. And I knew his name. So, then I knew him. And he was a doctor. And the school liked him. They brought him in to talk to us. So, they must trust him.

And so I did.

I kept going in circles.

If I met him that day, and I knew his name, then I knew him.

And if the school liked him, and trusted him to talk to all of the children, then I, just one child, could trust him too!

So, Mommy couldn’t get mad.

I knew him. And I trusted him.

So, I got in the sports car with him all by myself in the front seat!

We didn’t have to drive very far to get to my house. It was close. I usually walked. But it was a sports car. Driven by a man, a doctor, I knew and trusted.

Still, I could’ve walked it like I always did. I think I should have said no to the ride in the sports car.

Because it was a safe neighborhood. Even for a little girl like me.

No one ever bothered me when I walked.

Until that day.

After I got in the car and he started driving (not very fast at first) he asked me if I knew about the Mickey Mouse Club.

I said yes, because I had heard of it. I had even watched the show, a lot!

I told him that my Grandma loved that show, and Mommy did too! Grandma said it reminded her of when she was my age and that watching it helped keep her feeling young. I thought that was awesome. I loved my Grandma.

Then I told him I was even kind of named after one of the kids on the show. Annette is my first name. There was an Annette on the Mickey Mouse Club. Her last name was Fooni-cherub, something like that.

He said “Yes! I know! I love the show too. Annette is my favorite! I noticed your name was Annette. I was going to ask you just that, if you were named after her!”

I was excited that he knew. I felt a little famous because of it.

And I felt safe, because I knew him and he was a doctor and now I knew more about him. He liked something the same that me and Grandma and Mommy liked too!

He asked me if I was thirsty, or hungry.

I said not thirsty, but a little hungry.

He pointed at the dashboard, said there was something in there I could eat.

I opened the glove-box (why they called it that I never knew. I never saw gloves in one of those) and there was an unopened bag of Peanut M&Ms. My favorite!

“They’re yours”, he said.

I tore opened the bag. He took the torn-off part from me and put it in the coin holder. I started stuffing my face right away. I was so happy eating peanut M&M's (my favorite!) that I forget to pay attention to where he was going. I forget I needed to tell him where I lived. And he didn’t ask.

The next thing I knew, we were driving over a bridge.

I don't live across that bridge!

I told him “We missed my street! We have to go back!”

He said he was sorry. That he forgot to ask me for directions to my house. I thought he knew where it was. I don’t know why. Then I remembered that he didn’t really know me. And I didn't really know him. And that he didn’t know where I lived.

But he said he could tell that I liked M&Ms a lot.

I felt OK, a little nervous, but not scared, because I still trusted him (the school trusted him, so I should too!) and the M&Ms were awesome and made me feel awesome too and I gave him directions to my house and he said he’d bring me home!

But he told me that before he’d bring me back, since we already drove so far out of the way anyway, and since we were so close to his house, that he wanted to stop by there first. He said he needed to get something he needed for a meeting later that night and then he’d bring me home. He said he had to go back over the bridge for work later that day anyway.

I told him my mother would worry so I gave him my home phone number and he called my mother. I watched him talk to her but said I couldn’t speak with her because she was busy. But he said she wanted me home by seven o’clock. And since it was only 4:00 we didn’t need to rush. He said he didn’t need to be back at work until 8:00 so we could take our time.

I didn’t remember his name so I asked him what it was. I was embarrassed. I guess I really didn’t know him. I didn’t even know his name.

But he was a doctor. And the school trusted him. I said that to him, too. He smiled. But I was feeling nervous. And a little scared. I didn’t know why. I wished I had talked to Mommy on the phone.

His said his name was Mickey, like the mouse, from the Mickey Mouse Club.

I said I thought he was a doctor. That’s what the school said he was.

He said he was. But outside of work he liked to be called Mickey. Like the mouse. He said I could call him Dr. Mickey.

He was a big fan of that old show too, the Mickey Mouse Club with Annette Foona-funnyname on it.

He must have been. When we got to his house he showed me his home office. It was down a bunch of stairs, in his basement. It seemed really far away.

But the whole office was decorated with pictures from the show. He showed me one with Annette Foona-jello in it.

He had a hat rack with mouse-ear hats all over it, each with the name of one of the Mickey Mouse Club kids on the front. Dr. Mickey, he reminded me to call him Dr. Mickey if it made me feel better, put one on that said Mickey.

He put one on me. It said Annette on the front. Then he asked if he could take a picture of me wearing the hat.

This made me cry. I don’t know why. But as soon as he asked that I got scared. And I don’t know why, but when I’m scared, I cry.

He gave me a soda (Mommy wouldn’t have allowed it but I was getting scared and like the M&Ms it made me feel better right away) and I calmed down. Then I let him take a picture of me.

It was just me wearing the hat. I had to put the soda down before he’d take the picture.

He made me stand in front of a wall with a giant painting of a room that looked like the Mickey Mouse Club show. The other Musketeers were painted on it too.

I was the only living one in the picture.

After the picture was taken his phone rang.

He said it was my mother.

He said she told him that an emergency happened at home. That I couldn’t come home until tomorrow.

I asked to speak with her. He said I couldn’t. She hung up. She was at the hospital. They weren’t allowed to talk long on the phone from the emergency room.

I started crying. A lot. Loud.

Dr. Mickey got mad.

He told me to sit down on the couch there in his office. There was a TV in front of it. The show he put on was the one with Annette Foona-chillout on it.

It was in black and white.

I didn’t want to watch it.

I cried some more.

He gave me another soda.

He looked mad.

I drank it.

I felt groggy.

Then I think I passed out.

I don’t remember any more.

When I woke up the next morning,

I was dead.