Chapter Eleven
Back at the barbecue, Michael silently led Kitt through the crowds of people. He noticed with interest, Kitt's curious watchful expression. In awe, Kitt walked very slowly, studying everything.
"Kitt, you okay?" Michael asked with concern.
Kitt stopped and closed his eyes for a moment. "Yes, Michael, I am functioning perfectly," he replied with confidence.
"No, Kitt," Michael said quietly. "What I mean is, you're walking rather slowly," he explained.
"Michael, I do wish you would say what you mean," Kitt answered curtly. "Honestly, sometimes, I just don't understand you humans at all."
"Well Kitt," Michael replied jovially. "Join the club, we're often a mystery to each other! Anyway, I'd say this is your opportunity to learn all about us first-hand!"
"Perhaps you can start by telling me where we are headed," Kitt asked. "It appears that we are meandering aimlessly through hundreds of people. And these people are milling around in different directions paying little mind to each other. They remind me of scattered ants in a patch of grass, foraging aimlessly for food with no rhyme or reason to their search."
Michael smiled, "We're supposed to hook up with Dora, Jake, and Cleon at the archery targets."
"May I point out," Kitt replied, "that traffic flow is much more efficient when there are roads, signs and signals. These people are just about walking into each other. And some of them do not appear to be deferring to each other's 'right-of-way,'" Kitt remarked.
"Well, old buddy," Michael replied. "Two legged transportation is completely different than the four wheeled kind. There are 'roads' such as sidewalks and corridors, but for the most part, it's just 'forward and dodge' advancements. Just try not to knock anyone down."
"Okay Michael," Kitt agreed reluctantly. He was not sure he was comfortable with these new side-stepping maneuvers. Kitt wasn't sure Michael knew where to find the archery targets, much less how to get there through this never- ending sinuous path.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Kitt stopped dead in his tracks and faced Michael directly. "Do you even have any idea where the archery targets are located, or shall I scan the grounds for bales of hay?" insisted Kitt.
Michael grinned at Kitt's impatience. "I know exactly where we are and where we are going," he replied contentedly.
"How is that Michael?" Kitt asked, feeling confused and lost. "How can you possibly know where we are when we have made so many twists and turns amongst this crowd of moving people. This is like navigating through Jell- O!" Kitt complained.
"Kitt, according to my calculations, we should see the archery field just beyond the announcers stand north of our current location," Michael stated matter-of-factly.
Kitt clearly seemed unconvinced.
"Okay buddy," Michael said teasingly. "Scan the grounds and tell me where the archery field is," he challenged.
Kitt activated his scanning sensors and smiled sheepishly at Michael. "The archery field is exactly north of our current location. But Michael, how on earth did you know that?"
Michael pulled a booklet from his back pants pocket and handed it to Kitt. On the first page was a detailed map of the entire grounds of the Getaway, including brief descriptions of special events.
"I might have known," commented Kitt.
"Just leave the driving to me!" teased Michael, as he resumed their journey toward the archery field.
"Say, Michael, there you are!" Kitt heard an older man's voice calling.
Kitt quickly glanced in the direction from which the voice was coming. He saw a familiar looking, white-haired elderly gentleman Kitt immediately recognized as 'Jake Blakely'.
"Say, who's this strapping young fella? Is he your brother?" Jake said warmly. He extended his hand toward Kitt for a friendly handshake.
Kitt smiled and looked at Michael, awaiting a proper introduction.
"Jake, this is Kitt, my partner," Michael offered cheerfully. "Kitt, this is Jake Blakely, the owner of Jakes' Pit Stop Gas 'n Go."
"Partner?" Jake said suspiciously eyeing Michael and Kitt closely. "Partner in what?"
"Pleased to make your acquaintance Jake Blakely," Kitt said cordially, taking Jake's hand, the way he had often seen Michael do.
"Kitt's my partner at the Foundation," Michael explained. "We've been working together for about five years now."
"Say, you on a case now?" asked Jake with great interest. "You cracking down on Kontec? It's about time! Thank goodness you're here! You know, they've been taking over the town. Might as well rename the place Communist Kontecville. It's wrong, wrong, wrong the way they are taking over our homeland, changing everything...." Jake looked up at Michael's surprised face.
"What's all this about Kontec?" Kitt asked. "I wasn't aware we were on assignment here. Michael, if there is going to be a change in procedure I'd like to be kept informed. Are we partners or not?" Kitt said sadly.
"Woe!" Michael said abruptly. "There is no assignment or change in procedure you need to know about Kitt because there is no conspiracy here. We are simply here for a few days relaxation, Jake."
"Oh, I get it," Jake said excitedly. "You guys are working undercover!"
Jake quickly glanced at the crowds milling around him and nodded confidently to Michael and Kitt.
"We can talk privately later," Jake added quietly. "Me and Dora can fill your ears with the stuff they are trying to pull here. It's a shame there aint real cops here like you guys! The ones they got here are Kontec cronies.... Say, why don't you two stop by the diner for breakfast and we can shoot the fat about it. It'll be on us, okay?" Jake asked.
It was clear that Jake wasn't going to drop this and maybe the old guy just needed something to talk about, Michael thought. He knew that sometimes elderly people are resistant to change and wondered if Jake felt threatened by the computer company's influence in their town.
"Sure Jake," Michael answered calmly. "We'd love to join you at the diner. Kitt has never eaten anything like Dora's delicious cookin!" Michael exclaimed.
"I'm sure that is true," commented Kitt. "I look forward to it."
"Say Jake, Are Cleon and Dora over at the archery targets yet?" Michael asked.
"Cleon went to pick up Lena and should be back shortly," Jake explained. Dora is chattin' with her 'horseshoe troop' lady friends. She'll be along in about 20 minutes. I've gotta get my arthritis pills from the truck or I won't be good for anything. Go ahead over to the targets for some practice; I'm mighty tough to beat at the arrows!" Jake said smiling broadly.
"Okay Jake," Michael replied.
"By the way Kitt," Jake whispered into Kitt's ear. "I should warn you, Cleon is a little hard of hearing in his left ear, so be sure to holler when you talk to him. He's kinda sensitive about askin' people to repeat themselves, ya know?"
"Thank you Jake," Kitt answered. "I'll keep that in mind."
And with that, Jake disappeared once again into the crowd.
"Well, Michael, shall we proceed to the archery field and try our hands at 'the arrows'?" Kitt asked politely.
Michael nodded and pointed in the direction of the archery field. "This way, Robin Hood!" he teased.
"Wouldn't that make you 'little John'?" Kitt teased.
"Never-mind," Michael scowled at Kitt.
"You know, Michael," continued Kitt. "'Little John' was believed to be over seven feet tall."
Michael looked at Kitt doubtfully, "So where did he get the name 'little John"? Was it a joke?" he asked.
"No, Michael," Kitt explained. "It is believed that his name was indeed 'John Little'. However, some say it is really John Naylor or le Nailer. It's said he comes from Hathersage in Derbyshire, the shire next to Nottinghamshire which was controlled by the same sheriff. My records indicate that there exists a long marked gravesite for 'Little John' in a churchyard in Hathersage. The headstone reads:HERE LIES BURIED
LITTLE JOHN
THE FRIEND & LIEUTENANT OF
ROBIN HOOD
HE DIED IN A COTTAGE (NOW DESTROYED)
TO THE EAST OF THE CHURCHYARD
THE GRAVE IS MARKED BY
THIS OLD HEADSTONE & FOOTSTONE
AND IS UNDERNEATH THIS OLD YEW TREE"So Robin Hood and his merry men were real?" Michael asked.
"Well Michael, there are records of several 'Robin Hoods' and 'Robert Hoods'," Kitt continued. "And, some believe that other outlaws had adopted the name 'Robin Hood'. Unfortunately, it isn't clear where the truth ends and legend begins."
"Here we are 'ol buddy!" Michael exclaimed, as they reached the archery field.
"Where is everyone Michael?" Kitt asked with surprise.
Michael looked around. Although the field was set up with several targets, not a soul was there. Apparently everyone else was busily occupied with other activities.
Just then a friendly looking young man joined Kitt and Michael.
"May I help you?" he asked cordially.
The young man was in his early 20's, had blonde hair, blue eyes and a thin build. He was dressed in the Getaway's customary attire: a navy-blue polo shirt and tan colored pants. On his shirt pocket, he wore a bright, shiny, golden 'Getaway' employee badge embossed with the name 'Josh'.
"Pardon me, Josh," Kitt asked the young gentleman, "What is the procedure for this sport?"
"Come with me please," Josh said calmly. He led Michael and Kitt to a small wooden building on the edge of the archery field. Josh entered the building by a side door and reappeared at a large open 'service' window at the counter outside.
"Would that be bows and arrows for two?" he asked.
"Sure," Michael answered with a shrug of his shoulders.
Josh retreated deeper into the building and returned with two large wooden bows and two sets of brightly colored arrows.
"Please sign for this equipment and I'll need a driver's license or other form of identification with a picture, sir." Josh said as he placed a clipboard and pen in front of Michael.
Michael signed for his equipment and handed Josh his driver's license.
Josh took Michael's license and walked over to what looked like a futuristic copy machine. He waved the license over the glass window of the machine.
Suddenly, a bright light flashed instantly photographing Michael and his driver's license simultaneously.
"What was that?" Kitt asked alarmed.
"The flash?" Josh asked with surprise. "Just computerized camera equipment," Josh answered as he returned Michael's driver's license. He turned and handed the clipboard to Kitt for his signature.
Kitt glanced up at Michael with a look of panic on his face.
Michael smiled and nodded for Kitt to sign his name.
Kitt took the pen in his right hand, as he had seen Michael do and neatly printed the name 'Kitt Kent' on the line below Michael's signature. He reached into his back pocket and removed a brown leather wallet that April had prepared for him. Smiling confidently, Kitt removed a valid Citibank Mastercard credit card complete with photograph from his wallet.
Michael watched with interest as the startled young man stared at the credit card.
Michael wasn't surprised that April had prepared a wallet for Kitt, but he wondered if anything in his wallet identified Kitt with a last name. How can you do an I.D. without a last name? Would she have just assigned 'Knight' to Kitt? Wouldn't she have mentioned it to Kitt? Michael wondered. That seemed so unlike her to miss a detail like that.
"Something wrong?" Michael asked straining forward to get a closer look at Kitt's credit card.
"Your name is missing from this card, sir," he said as he returned the credit card to Kitt.
"Who is the credit card issued to?" Michael asked anxiously.
"The card is credited as belonging to The Foundation for Law and Government, sir," explained Josh. "Have you a driver's license instead?" he asked nervously.
Michael reached over and took the credit card from Kitt.
Kitt was speechless. He wondered how he was going to prove who he was, knowing that only a few hours ago he didn't even have a face! He knew he didn't even have a library card to prove his identity. Other than the credit card, the only other things in his wallet were cash and a few "family photos" of Michael, Devon and April at the Foundation.
"Listen Josh," Michael said in a gentle but firm voice. "This card may not show Kitt's name, but it is a valid photo I.D. and does have reliable, current information. Certainly this would be enough to track him down should he decide to run off with a quiver of arrows."
Josh looked hesitant to accept this 'incomplete' credit card as proof. He would feel better if there were some documentation that was more precise, like a driver's license.
"Don't you have a driver's license to back this up?" Josh asked Kitt hopefully.
Kitt shook his head, "I am afraid I have never been afforded that privilege," he answered reluctantly.
"Tell you what Josh," Michael said smiling with renewed confidence. "I can see you are a man of honor, not willing to compromise your company's policies. I respect that and commend you for it. I certainly wouldn't want you to do anything against the rules, so how about you allow me to cover Kitt's archery equipment. You've already approved my credentials, just add his to mine."
"Thank you Michael," Kitt said.
Josh uneasily agreed to Michael's suggestion and led them back to the shooting area.
"Have you shot before?" Josh asked cautiously. "I mean, would you like any assistance or anything?"
"No thanks Josh," Michael answered happily. "I'll take it from here."
Relieved, Josh nodded in agreement. He smiled and disappeared into the equipment building once again.
"How about we shoot some arrows?" Kitt asked.
"Now you're talking!" Michael laughed.
"Would you care to go first or shall I?" said Kitt as he selected the quiver of bright yellow arrows.
"We'll shoot side by side, 'ol buddy" Michael answered. "You shoot at the first target on the left, and I'll shoot at the one next to it. Okay? We'll count the score when we retrieve the arrows."
"That will be fine Michael," Kitt said as he raised his bow and practiced pulling and releasing the string.
This was going to be fun, Kitt thought. I wonder if I should go easy on him and let him win the first round, Kitt considered. Nahhhh! He's on his own! Kitt chuckled to himself.
Shooting arrows was not at all like Kitt had expected. The first few arrows went above the target missing it altogether! He tried to compensate for the difference and found that his arrows scraped the ground and landed mid-way to the target. The fifth arrow was headed directly toward the bulls-eye, but a gust of wind pushed it just enough to redirect it to the outer most circle. Finally after shooting 12 arrows, Kitt ended up with only 3 actually hitting the target and none of them made it to the center circle.
On the other hand, Michael seemed completely in his element. He shot 4 bulls-eyes, 3 other arrows hit the second inner most circle, 2 hit the outer most circle and only 2 others sailed smoothly over the line of targets.
"I don't understand, Michael," Kitt said desperately. "I've never missed before. Every laser I ever shot hit my targets dead-on! What am I doing wrong? My programming is not adjusting correctly to the parameters I have reset."
"You're fine, pal," Michael comforted Kitt. "You have more variables to work with now. Don't forget, you have to adjust for the wind velocity and direction, position of your arms, and the tension on the string of your bow, not to mention the differences in every individual arrow."
"What's that?" Kitt asked incredulously. "Differences in every arrow?" Kitt remained silent for a moment considering the facts Michael had just described.
"Michael," Kitt began. "The probability of shooting a perfect bull's-eye is nearly impossible when you consider the ranges of variables involved in this sport. It's a complete and utter gamble!"
"Listen Kitt," Michael began. "It isn't all that complicated. Can you hit the bull's-eye with a laser?"
"Of course Michael, don't be silly," Kitt replied. With a quick squint of his eyes, a short blast of a blue laser beam instantly burnt a hole in the dead center of the bull's-eye on the first target.
"Not bad!" Michael declared. "Now, examine an arrow. You need to compare it to what you know would be a perfectly calibrated arrow of the same properties then adjust your aim to allow for the effects of the flaws in the arrow. Got it old buddy?"
"Thank you Michael," Kitt replied thoughtfully.
"No problem, pal," Michael answered amicably.
"Pardon me, but isn't that Jake Blakely approaching us with those quivers and bows?" Kitt said, pointing in the direction of the crowds across the field.
Jake was hobbling toward them wavering unsteadily underneath the uneven weight he was bearing. Over his shoulders he was carrying 3 quivers of arrows and 3 bows.
Michael immediately ran up to Jake to help him with the three sets of bows and arrows.
"Let me give you a hand with those Jake," Michael offered.
"Thanks Michael," Jake said as he handed Michael a quiver of blue arrows.
"You two get warmed up enough to give me a run for my money?" Jake teased Michael and Kitt.
Warmed up? Running for money? Kitt wondered. This is going to be more complicated than I thought. Visions of running across the field while shooting arrows flashed in his mind.
"Michael, I don't know if I'm ready for this," Kitt said uneasily.
"You'll be fine, 'ol buddy. Just remember what I told you," Michael said calmly.
"Don't tell me you're going to use the Getaway's equipment!" Jake said in mock disgust.
"Sure, why not?" asked Kitt, scratching his chin, thoughtfully. "What's the difference?"
"Well, my boy," Jake explained smiling, "It's like this, using their equipment is like using the banged-up bowling balls and worn-out rented shoes at the bowling alley. They're injured, dented, and just plain inferior because they've been used to death. Just look at that set you got there!"
Jake pulled an arrow from Kitt's quiver and held it up for Kitt to examine.
"Just look at these here feathers, worn, bent and twisted," Jake said firmly. "How can you expect to hit anything with this? The thing'll fly like its got a mind of its own. Have you tried it? I'll bet it doesn't soar like mine. And that's because they've been bruised and battered. I'd say their ready to retire, wouldn't you?" Jake said, looking directly at Kitt.
Kitt thought a moment. "You do have a point, Jake. These arrows are slightly bent and rather evasive in their flight," Kitt remarked.
"Exactly!" Jake said with enthusiasm. "That's why I invested in my own set. You can never go wrong with yer own set. I have two sets and this here other set is Dora's. Say, if you'd like, I'll let you use my spare set. That would be this here blue set of arrows. I'll use my green set and Michael can use Dora's pink set, if he likes," Jake offered.
"I think I'll just stick with this set, Jake," Michael replied. "Thanks for the offer though." Michael glanced suspiciously at the pink set of 'Dora's' arrows.
"Why thank you Jake," Kitt said taking the blue set of arrows. Kitt removed one arrow and examined it closely.
"What about Dora?" Michael asked. "Isn't she going to join us?"
"Oh sure!" Jake answered. "We can shoot a few in the mean time though. No sense in waiting. You know how women can be. Chat, chat, chat! It's a wonder a man can get a word in edgewise. Makes ya wonder how they can hold a conversation between two of 'em, don't it?"
Kitt didn't know what to say; the only woman he had regular contact with was April and she wasn't very chatty at all. In fact, Kitt considered her rather quiet. Since Michael smiled and remained silent, Kitt reasoned that that was the correct response; so he remained silent too.
"Shall we begin?" Michael asked, politely stepping back and bowing to let Jake go first.
"Oh, I never go first!" Jake answered quickly.
"Why not?" Kitt asked curiously.
"I like to see what kind of competition I'm up against first," Jake answered proudly. "It's kind of a bad habit I developed from shooting at the club. You two in a league or anything?" Jake asked suspiciously.
"Oh no," Kitt answered quickly. "In fact I've never held a bow and arrow before today. I hope that's all right."
"Heh heh, you can just learn from the 'ol pro here then," Jake said smiling. He gently patted Kitt on the shoulder. "Why don't you go first, sonny," Jake insisted.
Kitt nodded and smiled. He took his shooting position and carefully removed the first arrow from the set Jake had lent him. Remembering what Michael had said about imperfect arrows, Kitt held the arrow up to be sure it was straight. Kitt was impressed. Not only was this arrow in pristine condition it appeared to have never been used. The arrow was perfectly straight and the feathers were smooth and crisp.
Michael watched Kitt check the arrow. Out of the corner of his eye he observed the broad smile on Jake's face.
Kitt set the arrow, aimed and released it. The arrow went sailing smoothly toward the first target, but just as it reached the target it tipped sharply downward and landed in the outer-most circle.
Kitt was puzzled. The arrow was perfectly straight, he reasoned. It should have hit the target in the dead center of the bull's-eye.
"Nice try Kitt," Jake said in a reassuring tone. "How about another?" he asked smiling excitedly.
Kitt agreed to try again. He removed another arrow from the quiver and inspected this one more closely. This arrow, like the first was in pristine condition: straight, clean and sharp. He held the arrow up higher and inspected it more closely.
"Something wrong?" Jake asked, nervously. Kitt said nothing and shot this second arrow. This time the arrow sailed toward the left before suddenly turning and spearing the bull's-eye perfectly in the center.
Jake's jaw dropped open. He was clearly shocked.
Kitt smiled. "That is more like it," he said. "Shall I shoot again, or do I defer to the next player?" he asked.
Jake closed his mouth and quietly replied, "Go ahead, sonny. You're on a winning streak. Must be 'beginner's luck'. Are you sure you haven't shot before today? Are you joshing me?" Jake said eyeing Kitt more closely.
Kitt shook his head slowly, "No sir."
Kitt once again reached in, withdrew an arrow, examined it and shot. It sailed wildly to the right, but curved and landed alongside the arrow in the center of the target.
Kitt turned and smiled at Jake and Michael, "How's that? Is that how it works?" he asked.
Jake's jaw dropped open even wider this time. "Unbelievable!" he said in amazement. "How did you do that?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.
"Jake Blakely!" shouted Dora.
Jake, Michael and Kitt swung around to see Dora approaching the three men shaking her fist angrily at Jake.
"Jake!" Dora repeated more firmly than before. "Are those our blue arrows?" she asked accusingly.
Jake smiled.
"I'm sorry, Michael," Dora said as she pulled one of the arrows from the quiver Kitt was using. "These arrows are from the joke shop. They don't shoot straight. Jake is such a prankster I shouldn't let him out of the house!" Dora rolled her eyes and shook her head. "He used them on me yesterday!"
Michael laughed and patted Kitt on the shoulder.
Dora glanced at the target and her expression changed from annoyance to surprise. "Did you shoot those bull's-eyes with this set of arrows?" she asked incredulously.
Kitt smiled, "Yes, ma'am. When I realized the arrows were unevenly weighted I compensated its effect on the arrows trajectory. I thought that was part of the challenge of the game."
Dora burst out laughing, "Finally, someone beat Jake at his own game!"
Jake's face turned a mild shade of red, "It was only supposed to be a joke. I really planned to lend them to Cleon, but you came along first," he admitted.
"If you don't mind, may I continue to use these arrows instead of the other yellow ones?" Kitt asked politely. "They are much easier for me to aim," he explained.
"Now I've heard everything!" said Dora, laughing.
Jake smiled and shrugged his shoulders and said, "Sure sonny, go right ahead. I'd rather like to see how you shoot the rest of them arrows."