Who's In Trouble Now?
By Spense
Chapter Six – Status Quo
One week after stepping onto a bus, Alan hopped down the steps of the New York Humanities and Social Sciences library in Manhattan, the place he currently called home. When Alan first began making his plans, he thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. He had finally decided that his ultimate dream was to race cars. He'd always loved speed – drove his father crazy. And Virgil had always said Alan only had one speed – very fast. So that's what he would do. Later. But first, short term, he wanted to explore New York City.
Tracy Enterprises was based in Manhattan, and Alan had been there often. He loved it, and had always wanted to see all the sights. But somehow, he never really got to. They were always in a hurry, had to get to the office, didn't have time, etc. Alan had grown up on stories from his older brothers about exploring the city together when the Tracy Tower was being built. But Alan was either not around at that point, or was with the hotel babysitter at the Plaza, where the family had always stayed. But when he was old enough to go along, things had changed. His father was busy with work, his brothers had seen everything many times, and were only interested in their own pursuits. So Alan got drug along with Virgil to the symphony (boring), with Gordon to every joke shop in town (actually pretty fun), with Scott to anything that had to do with flying (that was okay too), and with John to things that either had to do with astronomy or books. (The first was ok, the second was a big, fat loser). But for anything he wanted to see, nobody ever seemed to have any time.
Alan wasn't stupid. He know that the feeling of being left out of those shared experiences had whet his desire to see the city. But he also had a couple of ulterior motives as well. One, it was great to be able to thumb his nose at Tracy Tower – which he could see from where he was standing. Alan shaded his eyes and saw the gleaming black spire reaching for the sky. And here he was, the Tracy mistake, hiding right in plain sight under their noses. There was something very satisfying about that.
The other reason was more mundane. He needed to find out more about car racing. His father had always said that the best way to research something was to hit the library. Alan had always preferred computers and going online. But the Metropolitan Library systems offered both. And Alan needed to find out about where the tracks were and what kind of jobs a kid could get in order to break into racing. Not having a drivers license was kind of a minor problem, but he figured he'd deal with that when the time came. But another benefit of the library besides information was that the old buildings of the major research libraries also offered a rabbit warren of old rooms, forgotten storage closets and blocked off spaces, perfect for his needs.
Alan had once had to read a book by E. L. Konigsburg called 'From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankwieler" for a class project. It was about two kids who ran away and hid in a huge museum. He'd remembered it and grabbed it from the Wharton Academy Library to read again on one of his midnight forays. It had some very interesting ideas about hiding in museums. He knew that wouldn't necessarily work for him, but a library just might. Besides, who would EVER look for him in a library. Alan didn't care much for books, and that was well known in his family.
So when he logged into the Headmaster's computer for his nightly work, he didn't just work on his travel virus (he was really proud of that one – eat your heart out, Gordon!), he researched the New York library system (as well as working on another virus which he left on the Headmaster's computer – it should have made the machine self-destruct by now). He'd formulated a few ideas and did some research on what he could expect. Then, his first day in New York, he checked out the best of them. Several didn't work as planned, but one in particular was excellent. Alan spent the rest of the day getting established, buying what he needed from the dollar store and settling in.
Home was now a space in the basement storage stacks. The room was locked, but Alan had a small file that worked great with the ancient lock. Parker had taught him some interesting tricks during the long hours while his family was gone on rescues and he was stuck babysitting Alan. One more instance of being the family problem and the consequence of a 'mistake'. Everybody was stuck with him against their will at one time or another, he thought bitterly.
The basement storage room looked to be hardly used; huge bookcases against an irregular wall that was bisected with huge pipes going vertically and sometimes horizontally as the heating, plumbing and electricity were upgraded over the years. Alan found where a huge bookcase was out from the wall because of a pipe, creating a perfect rectangle space of about 3 feet by 6 feet, with about a foot opening by the next pipe. The corner was black even when the light was on, and to see him, a person would have practically had to be on top of him. It would work. It was only for a few months anyway. Then he'd be onto stage two, getting into racing.
So now he was set. It was all so much easier than expected. He couldn't believe it. He should have done this years ago. It was great to be on his own. He didn't have to answer to anybody, or do anything he didn't want too, and above all, didn't have to be anybody's grudging responsibility. As long as he was careful, he'd be okay. He'd give himself through July to play, then he'd have to start looking around race tracks to get a job. Nothing seemed impossible now. He'd gotten this far, how hard could the rest be? He'd work out the details later.
Right now, time for some fun. He settled his International Rescue hat more firmly on his head, adjusted his sunglasses, and slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out to see some more of the city.
TB TB TB TB TB
One week turned into three, then five. Alan's life had settled into a routine. Mornings he usually hit the town, going to some landmark or another. The one thing he hadn't seen yet was the Statue of Liberty. The Metropolitan Museum of Art was on his list too. He wanted to see the place in the book he'd read – the place where the runaway kids had hidden. But he hadn't gotten there yet either. He'd do that on a rainy day sometime.
Once or twice a week he'd head over to the Science, Industry and Business library and just cruise through the stacks. He began by reading up on car racing, engines, and race tracks – all part of stage two of his plans. But one thing led to another, and pretty soon he was getting sidetracked on all kinds of other tangents. He read about the history of industry, and eventually moved onto rocket engines and space flight. That was his favorite so far. Interestingly enough, he learned more about his father's space career through reading at the library than he ever had at home.
One of the librarians, a Ms. Meredith, had gotten used to seeing him. He'd spun her a story about his parents making him do this over the summer because of his poor grades in school. She'd been sympathetic, and usually had something interesting pulled for him when he came in. So her desk was usually his first stop when he arrived. And her suggestions usually lead to more tangents, and greater exploration of the gold mine of information at his finger tips. Unfortunately, he wasn't getting much research done on where he was going to go to get into racing. But that was okay, he had the time. It was only early summer, after all.
Alan was fascinated with the information he was finding, and absorbed it like a sponge. Why did all the teachers make this stuff seem so dry? It was really cool.
The other thing he discovered was fiction. That was just by a fluke. One day it was really hot, and he was tired. He'd ducked into a neighborhood branch library to cool off. He'd wandered his way over to the fiction section, and recognized a book on display as one owned by his brother, John. John was the reader of the family. His nose was always in a book, and he had bookshelves crammed full in his room.
To kill some time, Alan picked it up and started to leaf through it. Four hours later, he was still entranced. The book was 'Dune', by Frank Herbert. Alan found it again later at a library closer to his 'home', and most afternoons was at one library or another inhaling science fiction and fantasy and mysteries. He was still careful to mix up the various library branches where he went – it wouldn't do to get careless.
But all in all, his days were enjoyable. Not a lot was being accomplished towards his bigger goals, but he figured he'd earned a vacation anyway. The nights were harder – that was when he found he really missed his home and his family. The hurt still lingered, buried shallowly, and easily unearthed by a stray thought, or a random comment, or the sight of a family walking together.
He sometimes thought he was just being melodramatic with all of his precautions. He wondered if they were even still looking for him. It was possible that they were not. That they were glad to be rid of the family 'mistake' and the 'problem child'. But it wasn't healthy for him to think about home too much. Much easier to bury his nose in a book for awhile and escape the hurt that lurked so close. So Alan did just that. And life went on.
TB TB TB TB TB
There seemed to be a permanent cloud cast over Tracy Island. The mood was best described as glum. Jeff remained tense and worried as the days turned into weeks. Scott and Virgil gritted their teeth and rode out the wave of parental disapproval, finishing all the unpleasant tasks set for them. Eventually they were back in good graces, and were determined to stay that way. They were most grateful to be getting excellent meals again – not just cold cereal and peanut butter sandwiches from a distantly cool Ohana.
Gordon, on the other hand, was running true to form. Of course he was worried, and scared to death about his younger brother. But he was also highly impressed with Alan's ingenuity to date, and his ability to stay one step ahead of the posse, so to speak. All five Tracys, Brains, and who knew what law enforcement agencies were involved. And Gordon knew he'd seen FBI reports cross his father's desk. Alan was still not to be found. Not bad for a fifteen year old kid! They'd find him eventually, Gordon knew that. Time, sheer numbers of people looking, and Alan's immaturity were all on their side.
But still, that Alan had lasted this long pointed to some previously unforeseen depths in his little brother. Gordon was truly impressed, and wasn't hiding it. That unconcealed appreciation, as each near miss or late sighting unfolded was not winning him points from the older Tracy's, who were worried sick. Not that Gordon wasn't, but he just couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut.
It was that attitude that finally prompted John to request that Gordon come relieve him. For Gordon, the waterdog of the family that he was, TB 5 was the last place he ever wanted to go. "It will keep him out of trouble, and keep the rest of you from being able to strangle him," John pointed out. Jeff couldn't argue with his logic, and a loudly grumbling Gordon went up to the space station with strict instructions on what to monitor.
John came down gratefully. At last he could help more in the search. He knew he was helping from TB 5, but it just wasn't the same. Scott and Virgil were as glad to see him as they were to see Gordon go. Gordon received a major dressing down from John the minute he cleared the airlock. Therefore, it was a much more subdued (and much easier to tolerate) Gordon who manned TB 5, than who had left the island. Virgil also had to endure the same tirade from John, but he handled it with better grace. He was well aware that he deserved it.
And life went on as such on Tracy Island as late Spring turned into early Summer.
