Covered In Ink

Chapter 37|I'm not a hugger

"We just broke into a golf course?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. We broke into a building to see a golf course. I never expected those words to leave my mouth in my lifetime.

"No," Ryan said. "A mini golf course."

Oh yeah, because that makes all the difference.

"Why exactly did we break in a golf course?"

"It's a mini golf course," he corrected. "And this place is awesome. I'll show you." I was dragged towards the hole in the wall. He ducked through the space which had been pulled free of bricks and building materials. I followed his lead, ducking my head to avoid decapitation.

The room was pitch black, which made sense considering that all of the windows had been boarded up. Even in the dark I could see that the walls were covered in graffiti. It wasn't exactly the kind of place that I would choose to go to on a first date, but whatever.

Ryan took my hand again, pulling me along behind him as he ran the palm of his other hand along the wall, as if he was looking for something. He stopped suddenly.

"Here it is," he muttered to himself. He flipped a switch, bright lights illuminating the whole room. It was blinding for a start, my eyes having just adjusted to the darkness. I blinked several times, staring at my surroundings. There was a golf course. Sorry, a mini golf course, but that wasn't what caught my attention. I had been right about the graffiti, the majority of the walls were coated in spray paint, but one wasn't.

I approached the far wall with interest. It was appropriately named 'Memory wall'. I could see that this was a popular place. The wall was covered in pictures, names, a map with pins stuck into it. A pencil sketch of a girl with a pixie cut. All of the pictures had the same two people in them, the girl from the sketch and a guy. They were clearly a couple, and they both looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who they were. Whoever they were, my guess is that they were pretty old now, judging by the black and white pictures and the style of clothing.

"Who are they?" I asked Ryan, who had appeared at my side.

"I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "But whoever did this made a real effort to keep it safe."

"What do you mean?"

"Well it was behind three layers of wallpaper, and covered in paper so the wallpaper glue wouldn't ruin the pictures."

I stepped closer to the wall, studying it. One picture in particular caught my eye.

"I swear I've seen this picture somewhere before," I said, feeling a strange sense if déjà vu. My eyes widened as I realised where I had seen it. "Mrs Miller has this picture framed in her living room."

Ryan frowned. "Crazy stamp and soap collecting Mrs Miller?"

I nodded. "Do you think that could be her?"

"I guess," he said, peering more closely. "It probably is the right time era."

"Huh, I never thought she could pull off a pixie cut," I commented.

"I'm guessing that's her husband Henry," Ryan said, pointing at the man in the pictures.

In most of the pictures, they were both staring into the camera with big cheesy smiles, but in a few they were looking at each other, or one of them would be smiling and the other would just be looking lovingly at their partner.

"Looks like they really loved each other," I said.

"Yeah," Ryan said, scratching the back if his neck. "So, wanna play some golf?"