Chapter Seven
"Cousin? Are you–?" Balki asked as soon as he opened the door to the apartment.
Bianca sighed from her position on the sofa and shook her head. "Sorry, Balki. He's not here."
"Where is he? It been over twenty-four hours since he left and I'm about to have a nervous breakdance!" Balki cried. "Bianca, can we please take your time machine and look for Cousin Larry?"
Bianca stood up and grabbed his hand. "I was just waiting for you to come home. Come on."
A few seconds later, they were in the living room of her home and Bianca saw no signs that Larry was there, either. "Larry? Are you here?" she called out.
"Cousin, where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are! Mohammad Ali Oxen Free!" Balki called out.
Bianca came back a few minutes later. R.O.B. was charging and still twenty-five minutes away from powering up, so she couldn't ask him quite yet.
"Bianca, can we go to the police so they can put out a PDA for him?" Balki asked.
"Balki, I don't think that's such a–"
"Please, Bianca; I don't like just sitting on my legs and not doing anything."
"I know that, Balki, but let's just wait–"
Balki suddenly lowered his head to his chest. "I want to go to the police!" he wailed.
"Alright, alright, we'll go to the police," she gave in.
Balki instantly looked back up and smiled. "Okay."
Bianca led him once again to the time machine and within seconds, arrived at the police station.
As soon as they walked in, a burly, balding cop sat at a desk a few feet away. "Can I help you two?"
"We need to file a missing person's report," Bianca stated.
"I need a name and description," the cop said, turning to his computer.
"His name is Cousin Larry Appleton," Balki told them. "He twenty-six years but he don't look a day over twenty five."
"Can you describe him for me?" the cop asked, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, okay. He's short, he has brown well-coughed hair, no upper lip at all, erotic personality. He like the color blue, takes his coffee black with no sugar and enjoys organizing and making mountains out of moles," Balki explained.
Bianca cleared her throat nervously. "Let me try. He's a white male about five-foot-seven, average weight, brown curly hair, hazel eyes, nervous disposition. He was last seen wearing a light blue button-down shirt and a dark brown tie with khaki pants and brown loafers."
"Thank you, ma'am," the cop nodded before glaring at Balki. "Let me look in the computer here and–"
"Oh, no. He won't be in the computer. How would he fit in that tiny screen?" Balki asked.
Bianca shot him a warning look but had to fight laughing out loud.
"Okay, we'll do all we can," the policeman stated.
As soon as Balki was out of earshot, Bianca pretended to get a phone call.
"Oh, there you are! We just went to the station to file a missing person's report! Okay, I'll tell them. Bye."
The cop looked up at her expectantly. "You need me to cancel the report?"
Bianca flashed him a hundred-watt smile. "If you wouldn't mind."
After all, she knew that if the police put out a missing person's report, they'd find Larry in a heartbeat. Only Larry would be much older and very confused as to why a much younger Balki filed a police report when the older Balki would have probably had seen him minutes earlier. Just thinking of the mass confusion made her hair stand on end.
Larry knew it was getting late, but he needed to see B again. He had lingered outside long enough to hear yelling–mostly from her aunt–and knew that the situation wasn't good. He looked up at the window where had seen her earlier and assumed it was her bedroom. The house seemed nice enough on the outside, and he was sure it was equally lovely on the inside, but it was what went on behind closed doors that made Larry shiver. He looked up again and saw that the lamp in her room had been switched off.
"I can't believe I'm doing this for a child," he whispered, picking up a few stray pebbles in his hand before tossing them at her window. But this wasn't just any child; this was a young version of Bianca Pierson, the woman who came into his life and turned it upside-down, both in reality and subconsciousness.
A minute later, her lamp came back on and a red and white pajama clad B opened the window and peered out. "Mr. Larry? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I came to see if you were okay," he answered.
"Hang on. I'm coming down," she told him, crawling out of her window and stepping onto the lattice attached to the house.
Larry grimaced. "Be careful," he warned, preparing himself to catch her if she fell.
He breathed a sigh of relief when she expertly climbed down and landed gracefully on the grass below.
"I hate it here," B said, her lower lip quivering. "Aunt Liv is so mean to me. She yells at me for everything! She gave me this computer and told me to fix it so I could prove I was good for something. I could re-wire the whole thing and make it work so good, she'd be amazed, but then she'd just get angrier and hit me or something."
Larry's eyes bulged out. "She hits you?"
"No, but she hurts me. She grabbed my arms so hard and shook me when I told her I wasn't hungry. She said she didn't care if I starved. Mr. Larry, what am I supposed to do? I miss my grandfather so much it hurts. If he were here now, he'd know what to do."
"Your grandfather; did he ever tell you that you and he had a special bond and could talk to each other no matter where you were?" Larry asked.
B shrugged and bit her lip. "Mr. Larry, I really should go back–"
"I know, but this is very important. Is it true what your grandfather said?"
"Yes, but you can't tell anyone, okay? He says all I have to do is think about how much we love each other and I can hear him as if we're in the same room."
"I knew it!" Larry cried triumphantly. So his dream was correct! "Then you need to ask your grandfather how to get out of this mess."
B shrugged and took his hand. "I–I did. He said you'd help me."
Larry's smile suddenly melted like a cake that had been left out in the rain. "He said I'd help you? But how?"
"I don't know," B shrugged again. "Look, I gotta go back inside before Aunt Liv finds out I'm not there and has a hissy fit! Goodnight, Mr. Larry!"
Larry watched in silence as she climbed back up to her window and returned to her room. So I'm supposed to help her, huh? No pressure, Grandfather, he thought sarcastically before trying to come up with a plan of escape.
She doesn't need to escape, Larry. What she needs is someone to watch over her. You want answers? You need to figure out a way to get closer to her, a strange voice "answered" him.
"Who's that? Who's there?" Larry asked, whipping his head around, only to find no one there.
Larry, you will probably never hear these words told to you again, so listen carefully: you need to come up with a plan.
Feeling confused, panicked and terrified, Larry ran down the street, afraid whomever was speaking to him might decide to suddenly show themselves.
