Barry B Benson Looking Up Novels & Stories

When Joseph pulled the car in front of the house, I immediately went inside and called for Benson. As usual, he appeared out of thin air when I needed him. “Yes, Mr. Wilson,” Benson said. “What can I do for you?” “I need to speak to you privately,” I replied. “Come with me.” Benson followed me into my den, and I asked him to close the door. “Please join me on the couch,” I said. “This discussion could take some time.” Once we were seated, I told Benson what I witnessed at Moonglow. He was as surprised as I had been.

Barry nodded in understanding; his eyes twirled as if he was trying to remember something as he stared as Ben’s face. Dana looked at Ben with an infatuated gaze. “You are…. You are the prince from a faraway land” Barry clapped his hand as he remembered Ben’s face from Dana’s drawings. “Huh?” Ben was taken back. “I know…. I saw you in Auntie Dana’s drawing book.” Barry repeated more confidently. Ben quirked his eyebrows at Dana. Dana’s face was colorful…... all she wanted was to find a hole to comfortably slide in and never come out.

"Benson, your hand... Your eyes..." Benson stood up from a bench. His movements were strange. He moved like the man she loved. Also like a machine. He looked at his hand. It was made of light. He moved his fingers and blue sparks jumped between them. "I did not do anything Maya " Benson said. His voice was warm. It had a hollow echo. "When you pushed your hand into the Core you deleted the Watcher.. You left an empty hole. Something had to fill that space so the satellite would not fall. I took the weight a million people would not die."

But Benson talked his way out of that one as he hadn’t been gone for more than 24 hours. At that point, Principal Barbour bought us some lunch. The way Benson ate, I think he hadn’t eaten in a while. I gave him half of my sandwich, guessing he would benefit from it more than me. “Miss. Kingsley, can I ask the name of your aunt’s trainer? She is in excellent physical shape and I could do with a bit of help to lose a few pounds.” Principal Barbour says while patting his bloated stomach.

After all, he could see how scattered the whole place was. I thought he would leave without saying anything, but Benson rather stopped at the door and turned around to look at me. “Boss, you seem to be looking for something. Anything I can help with?” He looked so inquisitive. If only I could mention what I was looking for, I was convinced Benson wouldn’t relent in assisting me to find it. The only question on my mind right now was this: What was I even looking for? I couldn’t pinpoint it, but I knew I was searching for something.

Benson said, putting his hand in his pocket. “I will keep you updated, Sir,” Luke said, and then cut the call. Benson sank into the couch after dragging his feet to the chair. His eyes darted to the bar and back to his feet. He carefully thought about all that happened that day, from when he arrived to when he left. His face lit up when an idea popped into his head. “Cameras” — there were cameras everywhere in the hotel. He quickly dialed Luke and hung the phone to his ear.

On the first floor, Bethany stopped chatting with Barbara and looked up, towards the second floor's railing. Seeing no one there, she was a little confused. "What's wrong, sweet?" Barbara noticed something wrong with Bethany and looked up, but saw nothing. Bethany shook her head and said, "Nothing. It just felt like someone was looking at me. Maybe it's my illusion” "I think you're right." Barbara fixed Bethany's hair. Bethany blinked her eyes, saying.“ Did you see someone, Donnie?” “No, my girl is such a beauty, so it's strange if no one looked at you,” Barbara said with a smile.

“Dear Lord, what have you done to yourself and just days before the wedding. Sit down and let me have a look at you.” Barbara Benson pulled around the chair next to her beat-up metal desk and gestured to it. Hannah knew better than to offer even token resistance, and frankly, she found standing upright highly overrated at the moment, so she sank gratefully onto the thinly padded seat. Sergeant Benson was the closest thing Hannah had ever had to a mom. One she remembered anyway. Though she supposed where Barbara was concerned, “mom” was a relative term. Barbara was in her late sixties and had raised her own brood of children while simultaneously performing her duties as sergeant, receptionist