Longer Drabble

Mohinder’s scheduled lie in was interrupted by the yipping of his mother’s overgrown rat terrier, Tippy.
“Tipppaaaaaaaaaaay! Tippy! Shut up!”
“Mohinder go get the door!”
He scratched his ass, adjusted himself, and pulled open the door. Then shut it. Damn salesmen.
“Mr. Patel?” he could hear the thick American accent. Gods.
Tippy was running circles around him yapping. He kicked her.
“Who is it?” his mother limped into the room.
“Some salesman.” He regretted it. Her eyes lit up like oily stars.
Then the knocking started. “Mr Patel, I’m looking for your father?”
He opened the door again.
“My old man’s dead. Died about two months ago.”
The man’s caterpillar eyebrows shot up, threatening to crawl across his head. He wedged his foot into the door frame.
Around this time, his mother peeked around him and shrieked.
“GET OUT! GET OUT! WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE!”
She sicced Tippy on the American, and began to curse in Punjabi.
“Look, were you a patient of Dr. Patel?” Mohinder asked. “Cause…he didn’t leave us enough money for you to sue us over. You can have Tippy though.” He nudged the snarling beast towards the doorway.
The American frowned.
“I’m here because it was rumored your father was working on a cure for Ebola.”
Mohinder nodded.
“It was also rumored he found one.”
Mohinder nodded again.
The American shoved past him then. “Where can I find it?”
“He took it to the grave, sir. It killed him.”
Mohinder found himself being lifted off the ground and shoved against the wall. The drywall cracked.
“Listen good, there are people dying out there! There is a man who will kill you both for it. WHERE IS IT?”
Mohinder remained defiant.
” He had found someone who was immune to it. Go through the lab reports. They’re in his storage shed.”
The man left, and Mohinder found himself staring at a business card.
“Who was that?”
“His partner when he worked for the CIA.”
“CIA? Dad worked for the CIA?”
His mother shifted under his gaze.
“I thought he was a doctor.”
“He was.” She sat down, lit a pipe. “He said he was tired of taking lives, he wanted to save them. So he quit. Went to medical school. ”
Then it was her turn to glare. “Why didn’t you tell the American we were his guinea pigs? That we were immune? Lots of people are going to die.”
“Good.”

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