Simon's POV
The car radio droned on obnoxiously with a Chipette cover of a song that seemed to be picked purposely to increase my levels of frustration. Bad enough to be stuck as an accomplice, even worse to lose your autonomy. My hands were tied. Literally. I couldn't even plug my ears.
"Life is so strange, when you don't know
How can you tell, where you're going to
You can't be sure, of any situation
Somethings will change, and then you won't know
You ask yourself
Where do we go from here?
It seems so all too near
Just as far beyond as I can see
I still don't know what this all means to me"
The radio continued to get louder and louder. I could have sworn Eleanor had purposely increased the volume. When I looked over, her hands were still at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel. Okay, so maybe I was imagining it. The music was irritating me and thus, it seemed to be louder than it actually was.
"You tell yourself
I have nowhere to go
I don't know what to do
And I don't even know the time of day
I guess it doesn't matter any way
Life is so strange
Destination unknown
When you don't know
Your destination
And something can change
It's unknown
And then you won't know
Destination unknown"
I was at my limit. I thought I had been at my limit before, but now I had surpassed the limit for certain.
"Can you PLEASE change the song!?" I begged.
She smirked at me. "What? You don't like it?"
"No. I like it. It's a pretty song." I didn't want to offend her or her sisters. Especially not Brittany. You never want to offend Brittany. "I'm not in the mood for tunes right now. If you can't tell. I'm having an anxiety attack."
She didn't turn the music off, but she did lower the volume slightly. "Simon, you have nothing to panic about. I promise I'll keep you safe."
"Oh sure." I muttered sarcastically. "Because being trapped in a car with you is really safe."
She thought for a moment before continuing. "Hey, you said you've always wanted to learn more about me. Now's your chance. Why don't you take advantage of it?"
While that was true, she overlooked an important detail. "I DIDN'T MEAN LIKE THIS!" I shrieked.
"Sometimes opportunities come when we least expect it." She was trying to reason with me. She honestly thought she could convince me to be a pawn in whatever sick chess game she was playing.
I didn't know what to say back. The rational part of me was flooded with anxiety. Yet, there was a part, a feeling deep inside. It was a feeling that I tried my best not to acknowledge in illegal situations. It was part of what drove me to learn new things. Curiosity. The emotion that can bring unspeakably incredible discoveries…or result in a brutal punishment. She knew if she could appeal to my curiosity, she could drag me along willingly. "Oh great Newton's ghost what have I gotten myself into?" I thought. This was like dealing with Alvin….but different. She seemed to approach situations more methodically, more logically. Perhaps she was right. If I went along….No, No! What was I thinking? That would be a terrible idea.
"Did you fall asleep with your eyes open?" Eleanor's voice shook me from my conflicting thoughts.
"No." My throat was dry. I decided to change the subject. "How close are we to….the classified location?"
"About a mile." She smiled at me. "Why? Are you ready to help out and stop whining?"
"I wasn't whining." I said indignantly.
She turned the corner sharply, jostling me once more. Luckily, the ribbons kept me firmly in place. "We can play this game all night, Simon." She told me, in the same way a parent would scold a child.
"Stealing things is not a game." I chided. If she wanted to play hardball, so be it. I was not going along with her, no matter how much the mystery of what she was up to intrigued me.
She growled and turned her attention back to the road.
A little while later, we pulled up next to a rusty old dumpster. I tried to identify the building the dumpster was behind, but I couldn't make much of the building out in the darkness.
"We're here." Eleanor announced, looking giddy…which is not a usual look for her.
I stiffened my upper lip. "Dumpster diving is also not a game. What if there's broken glass in there and you cut yourself and get infected?"
"Then I'll treat the wound accordingly. You seem to forget I've studied how to heal wounds. I wanted to be a doctor, but the closest thing I was able to get was a gig at the public pool as a lifeguard since I'm still in high school and all." She babbled with confidence.
I was somewhat shocked by her answer. It was true. I'd forgotten she studied to be a doctor. My curiosity peaked, once again. Oh no. "What if someone sees you?" I questioned.
"That's why we're here at night." She climbed into the backseat and I could no longer see what she was doing.
"E….Eleanor? What are you…?" I didn't get a chance to finish.
Her voice sounded sassy and snooty. "If you really want to know, agree to help and I'll untie you."
Shoot! Drat! Curses! The feeling of curiosity continued to grow immensely. I reasoned that if…things did go south, as I predicted they would, it would be beneficial for me not to be tied up and unable to save Eleanor's life. I had no choice but to step into her carefully laid trap. "Alright, Alright. You win. Please untie me."
She was back in record time, removing the ribbons and carrying a black suitcase that was nearly as large as she was. "Finally. I was worried I was going to have to duct tape your mouth shut too."
Free at last! I could run, but where would I go? Besides, curiosity compelled me to stay. "What's in the suitcase….and don't say your favorite word that starts with C." I added the last part, knowing that if I didn't, she would just evade the question once more as she'd been doing all night.
"It's my super spy kit." She said in a loud whisper. "Got the essentials." She opened it and took out a flashlight.
I examined the other items in the briefcase in the dim light of the car. An invisible ink pen, a tiny camera that could easily fit up my nose, a roll of yellow tape with black letters that said "evidence." There were more things inside, but she closed the case before I could get a good look and identify them.
I couldn't resist being a little snarky. "What's your plan? Wrap the dumpster in evidence tape?"
"They're actually stickers." She opened the briefcase again and removed a sticker from the roll.
Before I could react, the evidence sticker was on my forehead pulling at the fur underneath uncomfortably. I tried to get a better look at the briefcase, but it was closed once again.
"Was that necessary, Eleanor?" I grumbled, trying unsuccessfully to remove the sticker.
She clicked her tongue. "Tsk tsk tsk. Was your comment necessary either?"
"It was a valid inquiry." I fibbed.
"It was clearly sarcasm. Ya think I'm stupid?" She closed the car door as we both stepped out. She handed me the flashlight and I realized she was also holding one. She must have grabbed two from inside her briefcase. "I need you to keep watch while I search for evidence. Can you handle that, champ?"
I sighed. "Y…Yes." I still was not happy about going along with this.
She disappeared into the dumpster and there I was, alone. Just a tiny chipmunk standing outside in the dead of night. My hands trembled as I held the flashlight. Logic said make a run for it. Get in the car and drive! But, I couldn't leave the poor girl stranded in a dumpster in the middle of nowhere. I had to protect her. I just had to. I begged her silently to hurry up and get whatever it was she was trying to find.
Eleanor's POV
I love the thrill of the hunt. You know that feeling when you are searching for something specific and you don't know for sure if you'll find it or not? It's addicting. It makes me shiver, but not in a bad way. It's more like a shiver of anticipation. Chasing down answers and solving puzzles gets the same reaction.
As I climbed skillfully into the dumpster, I felt those shivers of anticipation. Most people would find this gross, and it was extremely gross. Disgusting in fact. There were opened plastic toy containers melted by the sun, several unidentifiable food items that had been decomposing for who knows how long, and moth-eaten fabric that I think used to be someone's smelly old gym socks. Though, I'm sure they couldn't beat the record for the smelliest gym socks ever. That record was held by me….not that anyone cares or remembers.
I kicked a rotting apple with my tennis shoe and held my breath. I couldn't find what I was looking for on the surface, which meant I would have to go deeper. That made me shiver for two reasons. One reason was anticipation, the other was disgust. I never claimed the life of a detective was all peaches and cream.
As I was about to start digging under the top layer of garbage, Simon's voice startled me.
"Are you almost finished?" He asked, sounding frightened.
I stopped holding my breath and answered him sharply. "Why? Is someone coming?"
"N….No. I was just, you know, wondering….if you found anything yet….and….what you're looking for." He stammered.
"I'll tell you when I find it." I was glad I had put on gloves before climbing into this oversized waste bucket. I scooped up some trash and flung it to the side. Where was it? Would he have discarded them here? Was I in the wrong spot?
"E….Eleanor?" Simon again. I was losing my patience.
"What is it this time?" I said in a grouchy tone.
"I would advise you to hurry." He meant well. I knew he did. However, his constant reminders that I already knew were annoying.
"Really?" I said with sarcasm as intentionally obnoxious as his. "I thought I had all the time in the world."
"Can you give me….a hint? Uh….can we play 20 questions? If I guess what it is you're looking for correctly, will you tell me I'm right?" His low pitched, for a chipmunk, voice asked me.
I smiled to myself as I searched for the item. "You'll never guess it right."
I thought that would stop him, but he kept pestering. "Can I at least try?"
"Sure." I didn't have much to lose from this little idea of his. Plus, it could be really entertaining listening to him fail.
"Is it….money?"
"No."
"Is it drugs?"
"Seriously? No! Of course not!"
"Is it diamonds?"
"Who would put diamonds in a dumpster, Simon?" I asked angrily. Since when was he so stupid? Oh, right. He gets that way under pressure.
"Can I have one teensy hint?" He squeaked, his low voice rising as his levels of panic rose too.
Eh, I suppose I could throw him one hint. "It's a collectible."
I heard a snap. Must have been his fingers. "Is it….a trading card?"
What!? How did he manage to get so close with one hint!? "Kind of." I admitted.
"Is it a pack of baseball cards?" Okay, what was going on here?
I jumped out of the dumpster and crossed my arms as I approached him. "How? Did? You? Know?" I ordered.
"Instinct." He bragged. Then, being the wimp he is, he caved and told me the real reason. "Also, I found these lying on the ground over there." He held up a pack of baseball cards, but not just any old pack of baseball cards, the exact pack I was looking for. The one that came with a rare golden card. There are only 1,000 of these special edition packs in existence.
I snatched the package from him. It still had most of the cards inside. However, one card in particular was missing. I could see the golden case meant to contain it, but the rare special edition golden card….was gone. It was undoubtedly the piece of evidence I had been searching for.
"You did well, rookie." I patted Simon's shoulder. "Without you, it probably would have taken me forever to find this."
He grinned mischievously. "Assuming you found it at all."
"Don't push it." I snapped, walking back to the car holding my precious evidence in my gloved hands.
Simon followed me as I popped open the trunk of Dave's car and climbed inside. "What are you doing now?"
"We,.." I stated, happy to have a partner to help. "Are going to run a thorough fingerprint analysis on this container." I gestured to the junior forensics kit I had brought along and stored in the trunk.
"Okay, but….why?" Simon was puzzled. I could tell he was trying to figure out what I was up to. It was cute watching his eyebrows and nose twitch.
"Elementary, my dear, Simon." I chuckled.
His nostrils flared. I could tell he was getting upset again. "That, once again, does not answer my question. I will not be participating in this forensic study until you tell me what's going on and why this pack of silly baseball cards is so important."
"Fine." I turned away from him as I mixed the powder needed to lift the fingerprints from the thin plastic container. "I'll do it myself."
I had hoped he'd be willing to help out more, but apparently he still wanted to be difficult. I'm sure he's never simply handed all the answers at school. He's definitely not handed all the answers on his science experiments. Why should he expect now to be any different? If he were willing to follow me, he would eventually gather enough clues to piece together what we were doing. Too bad he still wanted to be a stubborn blue shirted stick in the mud. I knew then, it was going to be a much longer night than I planned.
