3/13: Yes, it's been taking me a while to update, but I've just been
recovering from a bout of writer's block so I apologize for that. Shout-out
to my supportive friends, including the one I haven't seen in ages and with
whom I'm going to the pool with this afternoon ::happy dance:: .
*****
Smith's eyes slid open slowly and he wearily examined his surroundings. By the looks of it, he was lying on his back on a futon in the nurse's office. He jerked upright in a panic. The only reason why he had tried to escape through the window because of his hopes of dying when he hit it so that he could tell the officers about the heist and he wouldn't get killed afterward by Sticky Fingers. But since he was alive after all, he was now gravely in danger.
Smith slid back down onto the futon and clasped down on his face with his hands. He had never been so disappointed to be alive in his entire life.
*****
Joseph peered through the window of the nurses' office and into the patient's room. He watched as Smith fell back onto the futon and grasped his hair angrily, tugging at it and attempting to rip it out. Joseph switched on his Chatmaster and radioed in Fillmore and Ingrid. "Well, they have our patient in custody, Fillmore," he reported.
"Great," came Fillmore's voice. "Is he awake yet?"
"Yeah," Joseph replied. "But he's exhibiting some...ah, strange behavior."
"Such as...?" questioned Ingrid's voice.
"Acting angry at himself and trying to rip his hair out," Joseph answered nervously. "You'd think that he'd wanted to go flying out that window. When's the next interrogation?"
"Scheduled two days from now at lunch hour," Fillmore replied. "Man, I hate it when I have to give up my lunch for creeps like him..."
"You know that it's all for the best, Fillmore," Ingrid retorted. "Besides, half the time we're still on duty anyway."
Joseph switched off the walkie-talkie to leave the two partners to argue. He needed to continue his observations, and the less distractions the better.
*****
Vallejo sat at his desk and flipped through Smith's papers (those of which Ingrid had been kind enough to print out for him and his lack of photographic memory). As he read the boy's records, he shook his head in disbelief. Why would a kid with such a good record suddenly go the other way like that?
Before he could give it a second thought, however, the door to his office swung open and bounced off the wall. Thinking it was one of the Safety Patrollers, he looked up sharply from his work and was ready to tell them off. But instead of one of his sash-adorned comrades, there in the doorway stood Principal Folsom, holding a small china jar, accompanied with vice principal Raycliff.
"Hello, Vallejo," Folsom greeted him in that drippy-honey voice of hers. "I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am that you and the rest of the officers have caught the culprit behind this bumper sticker ...ah, incident."
"But, Principal Folsom," Vallejo began hurriedly, "we don't know if he was the one who—"
"Have a cookie, Vallejo," Folsom interrupted, seating herself across from the jr. commissioner and opening the jar, revealing a batch of chocolate chip cookies.
"Uh, no thank you Principal Folsom, I'm watching my—"
"TAKE A COOKIE!"
Vallejo quickly snatched a cookie out of the jar as Folsom's eyes took on a dangerous glint. "Sorry, Principal Folsom. Anyway, as I was saying, we haven't quite figured out if Smith was really behind all of this."
"And what would make you think he wasn't, Vallejo?"
"Well, for starters, the last thing he said was something about the heist not being about the bumper stickers," Vallejo answered. "It kind of gave us the idea that he might be working for the person who really was behind it all."
"It gave you the idea, Vallejo?" Folsom glowered at the eighth grader behind the desk with a look of utter detest. "I don't want to hear about any ideas, Vallejo...I want to hear about your answers."
"It's not that simple Principal Folsom," Vallejo insisted. "In order to find out who really did it we're going to need some evidence before pointing an accusing finger at anyone. Of course, if Smith really was working for the person who stole the bumper stickers, then we will take him into custody. But, in the meantime, he obviously knows something that we don't. As soon as we get it out of him, we'll all be one step closer to the thief and what he really wants."
"This may sound somewhat astonishing, but I don't care about any step- by-step procedure that you Safety Patrollers use in order to solve an important case like this," Folsom retorted, gritting her teeth. "I want those bumper stickers to be recovered and that Smith kid in detention by the end of the month. If you don't solve this case by the deadline, then out goes the Safety Patrol and in comes the Quilting Club. Maybe you should join, Vallejo," she added. "You look like you have fingers fit for sewing."
The principal got out of her chair and, taking the china jar with her, was escorted out of the room by Raycliff.
Vallejo leaned back into his chair and crunched down on the cookie. He couldn't believe how stressful it had just become for him since the beginning of the case. He really hoped that the Safety Patrollers met the deadline, or maybe even solved it sooner, because the sooner it was over the better.
*****
A/N—4/4/04: Wow...that chapter took a long time to write. Anyway, I hope that you liked it and stuff...this was my first chapter writing from Vallejo's point of view. It's a little short, I guess, but I'm still planning on finishing this story soon! As soon as I finish this, I'll begin to work on—get this—a musical. I've already got the basic plot, but (unlike my sister Vicki), I tend to finish one story before starting another. Also, for you Wizard of Oz fans who are looking for something a little bit different, I'm starting a fanfic on that too. Well, that's all I gotta say for now... ~Teazer~
*****
Smith's eyes slid open slowly and he wearily examined his surroundings. By the looks of it, he was lying on his back on a futon in the nurse's office. He jerked upright in a panic. The only reason why he had tried to escape through the window because of his hopes of dying when he hit it so that he could tell the officers about the heist and he wouldn't get killed afterward by Sticky Fingers. But since he was alive after all, he was now gravely in danger.
Smith slid back down onto the futon and clasped down on his face with his hands. He had never been so disappointed to be alive in his entire life.
*****
Joseph peered through the window of the nurses' office and into the patient's room. He watched as Smith fell back onto the futon and grasped his hair angrily, tugging at it and attempting to rip it out. Joseph switched on his Chatmaster and radioed in Fillmore and Ingrid. "Well, they have our patient in custody, Fillmore," he reported.
"Great," came Fillmore's voice. "Is he awake yet?"
"Yeah," Joseph replied. "But he's exhibiting some...ah, strange behavior."
"Such as...?" questioned Ingrid's voice.
"Acting angry at himself and trying to rip his hair out," Joseph answered nervously. "You'd think that he'd wanted to go flying out that window. When's the next interrogation?"
"Scheduled two days from now at lunch hour," Fillmore replied. "Man, I hate it when I have to give up my lunch for creeps like him..."
"You know that it's all for the best, Fillmore," Ingrid retorted. "Besides, half the time we're still on duty anyway."
Joseph switched off the walkie-talkie to leave the two partners to argue. He needed to continue his observations, and the less distractions the better.
*****
Vallejo sat at his desk and flipped through Smith's papers (those of which Ingrid had been kind enough to print out for him and his lack of photographic memory). As he read the boy's records, he shook his head in disbelief. Why would a kid with such a good record suddenly go the other way like that?
Before he could give it a second thought, however, the door to his office swung open and bounced off the wall. Thinking it was one of the Safety Patrollers, he looked up sharply from his work and was ready to tell them off. But instead of one of his sash-adorned comrades, there in the doorway stood Principal Folsom, holding a small china jar, accompanied with vice principal Raycliff.
"Hello, Vallejo," Folsom greeted him in that drippy-honey voice of hers. "I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am that you and the rest of the officers have caught the culprit behind this bumper sticker ...ah, incident."
"But, Principal Folsom," Vallejo began hurriedly, "we don't know if he was the one who—"
"Have a cookie, Vallejo," Folsom interrupted, seating herself across from the jr. commissioner and opening the jar, revealing a batch of chocolate chip cookies.
"Uh, no thank you Principal Folsom, I'm watching my—"
"TAKE A COOKIE!"
Vallejo quickly snatched a cookie out of the jar as Folsom's eyes took on a dangerous glint. "Sorry, Principal Folsom. Anyway, as I was saying, we haven't quite figured out if Smith was really behind all of this."
"And what would make you think he wasn't, Vallejo?"
"Well, for starters, the last thing he said was something about the heist not being about the bumper stickers," Vallejo answered. "It kind of gave us the idea that he might be working for the person who really was behind it all."
"It gave you the idea, Vallejo?" Folsom glowered at the eighth grader behind the desk with a look of utter detest. "I don't want to hear about any ideas, Vallejo...I want to hear about your answers."
"It's not that simple Principal Folsom," Vallejo insisted. "In order to find out who really did it we're going to need some evidence before pointing an accusing finger at anyone. Of course, if Smith really was working for the person who stole the bumper stickers, then we will take him into custody. But, in the meantime, he obviously knows something that we don't. As soon as we get it out of him, we'll all be one step closer to the thief and what he really wants."
"This may sound somewhat astonishing, but I don't care about any step- by-step procedure that you Safety Patrollers use in order to solve an important case like this," Folsom retorted, gritting her teeth. "I want those bumper stickers to be recovered and that Smith kid in detention by the end of the month. If you don't solve this case by the deadline, then out goes the Safety Patrol and in comes the Quilting Club. Maybe you should join, Vallejo," she added. "You look like you have fingers fit for sewing."
The principal got out of her chair and, taking the china jar with her, was escorted out of the room by Raycliff.
Vallejo leaned back into his chair and crunched down on the cookie. He couldn't believe how stressful it had just become for him since the beginning of the case. He really hoped that the Safety Patrollers met the deadline, or maybe even solved it sooner, because the sooner it was over the better.
*****
A/N—4/4/04: Wow...that chapter took a long time to write. Anyway, I hope that you liked it and stuff...this was my first chapter writing from Vallejo's point of view. It's a little short, I guess, but I'm still planning on finishing this story soon! As soon as I finish this, I'll begin to work on—get this—a musical. I've already got the basic plot, but (unlike my sister Vicki), I tend to finish one story before starting another. Also, for you Wizard of Oz fans who are looking for something a little bit different, I'm starting a fanfic on that too. Well, that's all I gotta say for now... ~Teazer~