Author's Note: Sorry, I worked late yesterday and didn't post this in time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: I Can't Get No (Satisfaction)
"All right, girl, what's the big emergency?" Libby said, hands on her hips. "And what are you talking about 'help you pack'?"
"I'm leaving this dump," Cindy said and pulled the door completely open. "You're not going to make me tell you the whole story on the front porch, are you?"
"Depends," Libby said and smiled. "Is it good?"
Cindy smirked. "My mom having Mr. Neutron's baby wasn't good enough?"
"There's more?" Libby said and grinned from ear to ear. "I'm so in."
She strolled inside and stared at the living room. Not too long ago, there would have been beer bottles strewn everywhere and rings on the tables. Whenever Cindy had asked Libby over during her mother's disappearance, she'd never brought her to the living room. Thinking about it now sent chills down her spine. Her father had sworn sobriety, but who knew how long that would last?
Libby followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom. In the past, she'd kept pictures of her parents on the wall. Then she'd smashed her mother's picture in a fit of rage and it'd been missing ever since. She'd wanted to replace it with Jimmy's photo, but hadn't had any pictures of him that weren't borderline stalker.
"All right, so, spill," Libby said. "Why am I helping you pack?"
"I'm sick of Mom's bullshit," Cindy said. Libby's eyes widened and she flung open Cindy's closet to fetch the pink suitcase she used. Cindy smirked- the last time she'd seen that particular suitcase, she'd been leaving the bus after her ill-fated karate competition. She laughed, thinking of smacking into Jimmy and his ramblings. Come to think of it, her mother smiling then was just as unnatural as it was now.
"This is news how?" Libby snorted.
"You got a while?" Cindy retorted, rolling her eyes.
Libby grinned mischievously. "Only if it's good."
Cindy threw her pillow at her and then grinned back. "Oh, it's good."
"Then I'm all ears."
A short while later, after Cindy had dashed to get a cup of water and Libby sat, drumming her fingers on the suitcase, the entire story, including parts Cindy had omitted earlier, was complete. Cindy sipped her water and stared at Libby, who was silent and staring back at her. The silence was ominous and gnawed at her incredibly frayed nerves. She was tempted to bite her friend's head off, except she knew the instant she did that, Libby would give as good as she took. Libby's temper was the equal of Cindy's.
"Well?" Cindy pressed. "Don't tell me I'm crazy."
"Oh, girl, you bypassed 'crazy' when you ran around Retroville setting things on fire," Libby replied. "But I see your point."
"You think I should go for it?" she said.
"I think you should ask Jimmy's parents before you go over there and insist you're living with them," Libby said. "They're not exactly fond of your mom right now."
Cindy brushed this off. "They've always liked me."
"Worse come to worst, you can always live with me," Libby said and paused. "After I ask my parents."
Cindy folded her arms across her chest and scowled. A few minutes ago, the decision had seemed clear cut and irrevocable. In fact, it seemed the best possible option to her. To cast dispersions upon it was unpleasant, to say the least. It left a sour taste in her mouth and she looked out the window, rubbing the telescope's magnification dial absently. She'd always wondered how the other half lived.
"You think there's a chance Mom will get custody?" Cindy asked, spinning the telescope back and forth.
"No," Libby said. "But, girl, you're gonna drive yourself crazy if you keep worrying about this. Didn't you tell me Jimmy asked you to come with him on a family vacation? Start planning that. Don't worry about your mom."
She scoffed and her expression darkened. "She certainly didn't spend any time worrying about you."
"No, she didn't," Cindy agreed, glaring at the spot on the wall where her mother's portrait had hung.
"You know what you need?" Libby said.
"A license to kill?" Cindy replied.
"Those won't be allowed until the 30th century," Libby scoffed. "No, you need to get a new suitcase. This thing is falling apart. And you need to get new shoes and new clothes, if you're going to live in style."
Libby beamed at her best friend. "You know what you need, above all?"
"A horrifying piercing?" Cindy suggested. Libby scoffed.
"You need parental permission for that and the last time Neutron age jumped someone, they turned into an old fart," Libby said. "No, you need an all expense paid trip to the mall, courtesy of your mom's credit card.
"Normally, I wouldn't suggest it, but…"
"No," Cindy said and beamed too. "It's a great idea. Of course, you know you really need?"
"What?" Libby said.
"A few new outfits with my mom's compliments," Cindy said and she and Libby laughed. They grinned, locked arms around each other's waists, and Cindy grabbed her pocketbook. Libby dug her cell phone out of her pocket and Cindy stared.
"How do you fit anything in those pants?" Cindy said. They were skintight khakis, which she wore with a red tank top and sandals.
"That's what Sheen would like to know," Libby replied. "And I have no intention of telling him."
Cindy smirked and Libby hit speed dial.
"Hey, Mom, can you take us to the mall?" she said. "It's a fashion emergency."
She and Cindy exchanged identical evil grins and Libby covered the cell phone speaker.
"For Cindy's mom's bank account."
After they admitted Hugh to the hospital to have his stomach pumped for the umpteenth time, Judy told Jimmy he was free to leave. They both knew the danger had passed. At the moment, the more imminent problem was whether the candy machine had the pretzel sticks Judy favored. Jimmy wasn't concerned and strolled out the doors with his phone open and ready. They'd left the hovercraft hidden at the amusement park and Jimmy hadn't taken the jetpack with him (it smacked of overkill at the time). Now he needed Goddard to retrieve it so they had a ride home.
"You're surprisingly easy to locate," a cultured, snobby voice intoned and Jimmy turned, squinting at the bright sunlight. It obscured his face, but his brown hair was soon evident. Once the spots in his vision faded, he recognized the figure. Scowling, he held off on contacting Goddard.
"Strych?" he said. "What are you doing here?"
"Can't two friends meet at…" Eustace paused and grimaced, looking up at the hospital. "Do you really spend time here? My doctor makes house calls. This is terribly garish."
Jimmy narrowed his eyes at him. "It's called a hospital, Strych. What are you doing here?"
"Wondering what you were doing here, primarily," he said. "I do miss our tête `å tête."
"Since you don't normally use platitudes, I'll assume you want something else," Jimmy retorted.
"Touchy, are we?" Eustace said. "I was wondering if you'd seen a small child around here recently."
"No, I haven't seen him," Jimmy snapped. "And if I had, I'd blame you."
"No need for the histrionics," Eustace said. He put his hands on his hips and stared at him. Jimmy glared.
"Let me guess. The whole League has decided my unborn sister poses a threat to you and teamed up with Eddie?" Jimmy said sarcastically.
" 'Sister'?" Eustace repeated. He gawked. "Actually, we aren't joining forces. Eddie's on his own."
"You're following me to tell me you're not interested," Jimmy said. He stared blankly. This was turning into a fairly odd conversation.
"Not in the unborn child, but in you, as usual," Eustace said and grinned. "We'll always be interested in you."
"Thanks," he replied acidly. "Is that all?"
"I wondered if you'd do me the honor…" Eustace said and grinned evilly.
"Of what?" Jimmy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not helping you kill me."
"I don't want you dead," Eustace said. He leaned forward, licked his lips, and stole a kiss. Jimmy's mouth dropped and Eustace chuckled, activating his jetpack. The act had rendered his thinking processes inert, which was an extremely difficult thing to do. He gaped, stunned, as Eustace took to the skies.
Hand shaking, he wiped it across his lips. He was drawing a complete blank.
"Do not want…"
Eddie had prepared everything for his attack. Carl and Sheen were in Carl's room discussing how Ultra Lord surpassed (or didn't) a stupid llama based superhero. This led to a lengthy dissertation on a cartoon spinoff from a movie about the main character turned into a llama and how much Sheen didn't care. For once, Eddie agreed with him. He didn't particularly care either.
For today's excursion, he'd packed the long pronged electro ray. He depressed the button and it unfolded, tapping Sheen on the shoulder.
"Not now," Sheen protested. "Ultra Lord's going on in five minutes."
"That wasn't me," Carl said. They were sitting on the floor in front of the TV and Eddie tapped Carl on the shoulder now.
"Sheen, I told you that wasn't me!" he said.
"It wasn't me either. Think Jimmy's back early?"
"You plebeians never use your brains, do you?" Eddie said and depressed another button on the main console. Electricity hummed in the air and zapped both boys. If he turned the knob, he could easily send a lethal dose. The smell of ozone filled the air along with burnt hair and he cackled, relishing their screams. Except…Sheen seemed to be half cheering, half screaming. He should have known he was into electrocution.
Right now, their vision would be impaired, they'd taste blood, and their muscles would be jerking involuntarily. Eddie jumped up and snagged the windowsill to provide a better view. Damn being so short.
Shutting off the rod, he propelled himself inside the room to inspect the damage. Carl and Sheen rested facedown on the carpet and continued to twitch. They also reeked, prompting Eddie's nose to wrinkle, and sparks jumped off them. The rod was outside, but he carried a switchblade on him in case Curie needed a rough repair. For some odd reason, torturing them like this hadn't appeased him. He was mildly entertained, but his true target remained at large.
Huffing, he jumped back out before he was discovered. Delaying gratification might increase its effect, true, and it was either this or lash out at Jimmy, which was far too risky. No, he'd have to let this be his warning.
He balled his hands into fists and grimaced, setting back toward his lab. It was a bad day indeed when hearing anguished screams didn't tranquilize him.
