Doug paced the kitchen, reaching over the counter, and whisked a box of cereal off the shelf. He shook the box taking a quick inspection of the contents inside. There was probably enough for seconds, give or take thirds. A good enough breakfast to suit the day whatever the case.
He took a seat in the largest kitchen chair. The chair bore worn armrests and smudges from the long hauls his dad would endure himself like this chair now. Pouring the cereal into his bowl briskly, he thought of his Pontiac friend who was probably a little concerned back at the cave given Doug usually wasn't late. Today he'd slept in, having been up late reading books with Kitt and having a good laugh. Something so rare in his case; yes, laughter. He poured the milk, tapping his spoon rhythmically to the beat of some song that'd been stuck in his head for some time. The high-pitched chimes made him smile gingerly as the sun shimmered over the wooden table, the bowl glowing pearl white under the sun's radiance. He closed his eyes, taking in the sudden warmth, listening to a song he remembered playing over the radio while he and his dad played baseball 'till dusk. He grinned, taking a mouthful of Kellogg flakes. Listening to the crunch resonating in his ears. Sighing the moment a knock came from the front door. A heavy, dry knock.
He grunted, standing and taking a last glance around the silence sustained in the kitchen. The plush flutter of the glowing silk curtains over the sink from the window looming above, the repetitive hum from the fridge, or the little insignificant vibration from the dishwasher. He'd come to adore the captive silence of the kitchen after his father's passing, all because when he listened hard enough to its common folly — he realized that — nothing had changed. The kitchen was one of the few places in the house that'd been preserved, other than his room of course. The living room however had been changed to Jim's liking. The man basically lived in the living room whenever he came over; he'd made it his own. Slowly the furniture had begun to move until it'd all been replaced. Family photographs migrated upstairs, fresh decor taking its place— Jim's claiming of the room had sparked a war in Doug's mind. He'd lost the living room but he wasn't going to lose the kitchen. Here his dad and he had made their best pranks, jokes, and bubble battles. They would mess around with mom's tapestry. Here his father had cared for him whenever he'd gotten injured. Taking out an old slab of meat from the back of the freezer. He'd heard some of the best stories over a warm supper or a cold bowl of ice cream and milk over the old oak kitchen table that had lost one leg at some point. He wouldn't allow Jim to claim the last of the house still whispering the last of his father's memories.
The knocking continued, and Doug heard his mother call from upstairs. He could only wince.
"Doug? Please open the door for Jim, please."
Taking a gulp of air he straightened his posture.
He marched out of the kitchen, matching his walk to the beat of the consistent ticks from the clock. Defensively opening the front door and keeping a serious gaze locked on the sidewalk rather than Jim's face.
"Morning Doug." The man greeted, motioning for Doug to take a warm Espresso coffee for himself. The paper cup was snuggly clasped in a cardboard drink carrier. Doug just stared over the warm steam rushing into the air in vibrant glowing swirls. The steam caught in the bright rays of the awakening sun.
"No thanks." He hissed, taking a step aside and allowing the man temporary pass into the home.
Jim rolled his eyes. Sighing, very tired.
"Doug, I'd like to talk to you about something." Jim trailed toward the kitchen with Doug shuffling slowly after.
Doug groaned, making the man turn and give him a glare.
"Doug, your mother and I…" the man began.
"Don't bother!" Doug shouted, yanking his backpack nearby off a kitchen chair and sprinting to the front door. He burst into the sunshine, wrapping his hands around his bike's handlebars waiting faithfully for him in the driveway.
He didn't hear what Jim said next, or if the man had followed after, frankly he wouldn't have cared if the man said nothing at all.
Kitt tried to comfort himself into thinking everything was probably okay with Doug despite his overdue arrival but the more he thought about it the more his CPU began to ache.
The more something inside him pulled to action. He didn't understand it and he wasn't sure where he'd go to find Doug if this happened to be the best course of action. The boy had given him clear instructions to stay put and not move. So of course given he trusted Doug, he would do just that — oh but the difficulty to stay put was overly stressful and Kitt found that his systems were acting quite strange.
Kitt grumbled within himself trying to concentrate on something else, trying to ignore these nameless programs. He tuned in to the birds chirping nearby making a complete and utter racket. He found the sounds pleasantly curious and quite bizarre.
He continued listening when he heard a nearby backfire from a motorized vehicle startle several local residents living in the vegetation nearby. Even the birds next to the cave were silenced.
Kitt curiously flashed his scanner wondering whatever in the world that'd been. He wondered if it'd be necessary to back up into the cave and hide.
Before the t-top could even guess an action over his hesitation the four-wheeled motorized vehicle leaped from the shrubbery and slipped down a nearby slope. A man whopped excitingly, hands flapping and hair flying — Kitt could only speculate why the human looked so demented.
The sound then duplicated itself and other vehicles followed after. Kitt watched from the protection of the trees as the men hollered and whistled to one another. The car was unable to make ends of the strange behavior. Then disaster struck and Kitt felt his RAM freeze…one of the driver's dove down the slope but his vehicle bounced irregularly and spun head over wheels, smashing the poor creature beneath it.
Kitt felt horrified as the other men shouted and approached their fallen friend. They dragged him from under the heavy machine. Everyone yapping and snapping at one another as the man showed no sign of responsiveness. He was either knocked out or…
An instant fear settled over the Pontiac. Something cold and wicked…
He needed to find Doug…what if something terrible had happened to him on his way here? Humans were fragile from the looks of it and the wilderness wasn't as safe as it was cut out to be.
The knocked-out man finally awoke and Kitt watched terribly relieved as his friends cooled over and placed him onto another vehicle. They secured him in place, leaving the man's damaged vehicle behind; they drove him away in the direction that Kitt could only assume was help.
Kitt grumbled to himself unsure if to go forth with his plan but — he needed to get help himself if he was to locate his friend.
Kitt fired the engine, feeling shaking over his wheels as several programs fed him data he still couldn't read. He wondered if he'd be in trouble dare he continue to ignore these things for long.
He decided to risk it and followed behind the men racing away with their injured friend to safety.