Page 72 of Mr. Perfect

I pull open the second one. Also empty, with one exception. Two bottles of beer that probably have the most interesting label on them I’ve ever seen. The brand is called Zombie Dust and that makes me laugh a little. The silver envelope is propped between them, and it says, Read Me.

I pick it up, turn it over, and slide the card out. It looks just like the last card.

Dear Eloise,

I’m not a big drinker, but I like beer. This is my favorite. Bring them with you on your journey and we’ll share them at the end.

Go to the theatre room next and enjoy a smile on me.

McAllister

I smile as I pick up the card, shove it in my back pocket with the last one, and then grab the two beers by the neck. I’m not sure why Mac is going to so much trouble, or what I’m learning about him on this scavenger hunt, but it’s clever and it’s certainly got my attention.

I leave the kitchen the way I came and end up back in the bar. Surely the theatre room is not far away? Movies and drinks go together. And sure enough there’s another hallway down to the right.

The theater room is glowing a bright blue, so I see it right away when I turn the corner into that hallway. I have to stop and take it in when I get to the doorway, because it’s huge. Not as big as a regular theatre, but certainly well-equipped to host two dozen people or more.

This place cannot be a home. Who lives like this?

This room is carpeted in a soft wheat color, much like the felt on the pool table. I step down, searching for the next invitation, until I get to the front seat. It’s not too close to the giant screen on the far wall. A prime seat, in fact. The reclining chairs are all an ivory-colored leather with drink holders and the silver envelope I’m looking for is propped up on the arm rest.

I reach for it, biting my lip as my heart thumps a little. This is fun.

I take the card out and read it.

Dear Eloise,

I never saw this movie as a kid, but in college I had a very good friend who was obsessed with it. We must’ve watched it a hundred times and every time we laughed. Maybe we were drunk, but Ferris Bueller’s philosophy is that of the teenager. The guy with everything in front of him. No regrets yet. No mistakes, just potential. That’s how everyone saw us. A team of Mr. Perfects.

Don’t believe everything you see.

McAllister

“Bueller?” the surround sound says from every possible corner of the room.

“Oh, my God, Mac,” I say to the room. “You are too much.” So I take a seat as the highlight reel for Ferris Bueller’s Day Off comes on screen. I laugh at each scene, remembering back to the first time I ever saw it. Ferris is the teenage version of a con man. Everyone wanted to be clever like Ferris after they watched this movie. He was the seventeen-year-old version of Mr. Perfect.

When the clips are over there’s a message on screen that says: Go find the music room.

Music room. I passed a piano out in the main living area, but I don’t think that’s it. So I stick the card in my pocket, pick up my beers, and exit the theater. I turn right and keep going further down the hallway. There’s a lot of modern art in these walls too—another gallery, I guess. And at the end of the hall is a sliding barn door on a track high above. I open it, unsure what I’ll find, and happily enter the music room. There is one blue chair sitting on yet another expansive sheepskin rug, facing the most elaborate sound system I’ve ever seen.

There’s a silver envelope attached to the front of the system, so I walk over, enjoying the feel of the rug beneath my bare feet, and lift it off.

Behind it is a small white sticky note with the words Press Here printed in neat blue ink. I press and listen as the song plays.

Not music, just a stomp, stomp, clap. Repeating until We Will Rock You comes on so loud, I feel like Queen could be performing this song in front of me.

I set my two beers on the small table and take a seat in the chair as I open the card.

Dear Eloise,

It sounds like an anthem. Almost a call to arms with the heavy stomping and acapella lyrics. But it’s not. It’s a story about ambition, and life, and reality. A boy starts out with dreams, grows to manhood with expectations, and ends up an old man with regrets.

I don’t want to be an old man with regrets. And that’s why I’m cautious.

Please go to the library next.

McAllister