What A Pain! – Chapter Sixteen
It was getting quite late, but Mike and Hank had been napping for some time that evening, and so found themselves wide awake at 11pm. The old brown recliner creaked as Hank put the foot rest down and Sir Pain's ears perked up yet again.
Mike now sat up on the sofa; Sir Pain on his lap. "So...uh, I'm n-not very t-tired now, Cap. How about y-you?" Hearing himself speak again, Mike frowned and furrowed his brow.
"Somethin' wrong, Mike?" Cap asked.
"Nah, it's j-just...well, it's kiiind of fun-ny," Mike confessed, "ev-er-y time I wake up, I guess...I e-expect t-to be able to sp-speak normal-ly again." He paused, "I'm al-ways surprised wh-when I can't. I'm rrreally get-ting tired of i-it."
Cap pursed his lips in agreement. "Well, Mike, I won't tell you to be patient, because you've already been more patient than I think I would have been. But...just uh, hang in there a little longer, eh? You'll get there."
"Yeah, I kn-know. I will, Cap...th-thanks," Mike said, resigning himself to this new life for at least a little while yet. Taking a deep breath, and using the crutch to stand up, Mike decided he didn't want to sleep again; at least not for a while.
Cap stretched, yawned and shook his head to wake up a little more. "Michael, I needed that nap, but boy, now I wish I hadn't taken it. It's late and I'm not tired anymore. Won't be long and TV will be over for the night. Then he smiled slyly, "I kind of wish we had a few more of the guys here; we could play some poker."
Mike laughed, "Yeah...poker. I lllove playin' c-cards with Chet. I beat him ev-ever-y-time."
"That, Michael, is because you know how to keep your 'poker-face' on. Chet gives himself away every time," Cap snickered.
"Yeah, f-for a guy ssso full of hot air, Ch-chet's a l-lousy liar," Mike smiled. He thought for minute and then said, "Hey, Cap, um, would you mmmind helping me clean up Pain's mmmess in the ga-rage this l-late?"
Cap smiled, "Oh, I suppose I could do that... I'd like to be paid in Oreos, though."
"Nnnot a problem, Cap," the engineer laughed, "Th-thanks."
Mike rolled Sir Pain off his lap and the cat sat there on the sofa cushion, eyes wide and tail swishing. He had perched like a fuzzy gargoyle on Mike's chest while the man slept, but Sir Pain himself hadn't dozed much at all. The garage incident had put the cat on high alert, and he was waiting for...something.
Hank stepped out of the kitchen door leading to the garage, onto the concrete step, and made a low whistle.
"Whoa. Your cat did a great job redecorating, Mike. Where do you want to begin?"
"Well, i-it looks lllike there's stuff all ov-ver the f-floor. Could you b-back out my trrruck and I can sweep up un-der it?"
Cap looked again at the mess and shook his head in disbelief. "Whew. Hey, are you sure you can sweep? How about you just pick up what you can get and let me do the sweeping. You're still a little unsteady, I think."
Mike was prepared to disagree, but instead he leaned on the crutch and fought off the slight feeling of lightheadedness he suddenly had. He closed his eyes; his argument was moot and he knew it. "Ok...you w-win," he sighed.
While Cap opened the big garage door, Mike went in to fetch his keys. Sir Pain took that opportunity to check out the garage again...maybe. He stuck his nose through the opened side door for a few seconds and sniffed. He placed a paw down on the concrete step, then drew it back. He dipped his head under the door and looked around. Standing behind him, Mike watched his cat considering whether to go out, and was amused with Pain's decision-making skills. Mike encouraged Pain's choice by giving the cat a soft boot to the backside, and the cat finally scooted out the door and into the garage.
Mike grabbed the straw broom and copper-colored dustpan from the utility cabinet and handed them to Cap. "H-here ya' go, Cap. H-have at it."
Mike looked out through the garage door at the street, and noticed the police car driving slowly past. He assumed that was the car assigned to patrol his block and sighed. This was getting to be too much. He was about to turn around when, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of another patrol car. It too was driving slowly down the street, but in the opposite direction. "Hmmm, th-that's strrrange," he mumbled.
"Huh? What's strange?" Cap asked him, turning around and leaning on the broom stick.
"Th-there's two p-po-lice cars now. Frrank said on-ly one," Mike mused. They watched as the cars stopped beside each other in the middle of the street. Cap and Mike could both hear the police officers talking, but couldn't decipher the topic of conversation. They looked at each other in surprise when they saw one of the officers turn his head and point toward Mike's house.
"W-what was th-that was ab-bout?" Mike wondered aloud.
"Beats me, Mike. You should give Frank a call in the morning and ask him, I guess." Cap turned back to his job of sweeping the garage floor. Each time he filled the dustpan, he'd hand it over to Mike who would dump the contents in the black trash bag. Sir Pain sat on the wooden workbench and observed the process. Mike placed a full dustpan on the workbench and picked through the dirt and birdseed to retrieve all the bolts, screws, and nails that had rained down from the fallen shelf. He turned to snarl at Sir Pain.
"Th-this iiis all your fault, y-you know," he told the cat. The cat didn't care.
Every few seconds, Pain would lower his head a bit and sniff, catching the scent of something unfamiliar. Without warning, he leaped from the bench and crept slowly across the floor, as if stalking prey, to the door leading to the backyard, sniffing the entire way.
Mike shook his head, "W-would you loook at that th-thing?" he asked Cap. "What's he do-ing?"
"I dunno," Cap said, scratching his head, "maybe he hears a mouse?"
Sir Pain began clawing at the bottom of the door to the yard, clearly wanting to be let out.
"J-just for a l-litt-le while, Pain, i-its going to r-rain again," Mike told his cat.
Mike opened the door and flipped on the backyard light above the door. Looking down, he saw a good portion of mud smeared on the concrete pad.
"That's strrrange," he said. "I know i-its been rain-y the p-past few days, but n-nobody's been in th-the back y-yard since I've been h-home. Wh-where did this mud c-come from?"
"I know John has let Pain out in the backyard when he comes over, maybe the cat did it?"
"Nah, t-too mmmuch for a c-cat to make," Mike murmured. He turned and retrieved the blue flashlight he kept on the workbench and walked out the door into the yard, shining the beam back and forth on the ground in front as he went. There was mud on the concrete, but it disappeared into the lawn, becoming slightly squishy indents in the grass. Mike gasped with realization.
"Cap!" Mike called loudly in a strangled voice, "Cap! C-come he-here!"
Dropping the broom, Hank rushed outside to find his engineer breathing fast and trembling.
Mike turned, wide-eyed to his Captain. "He's be-been h-here, Cap!" he choked out. "Oh, God, J-J-Jordan's been h-here!" Mike dropped the flashlight and nearly fell to his knees. Cap, looking around, noticed a lawn chair folded up beside the house. He popped it open and guided Mike into it.
"Mike? Mike, c'mon, calm down," Cap encouraged, "take slow, deep breaths...look at me, Mike...that's it, follow me...in...out...in...out..."
Mike nodded weakly and tried to ease his breathing, but it wasn't working. Nor did his body seem to want to obey his brain's commands. He started to feel sweaty and nauseated again, his tongue went dry and his teeth tingled. He felt sure he was going to faint, but Cap had turned on the garden hose and soaked his handkerchief in the cool water, placing the wet cloth on the back of Mike's neck.
"Keep breathing, Mike...nice and slow...that's it..."
Mike had finally worked past feeling like he was going to pass out as Cap gently placed his hands on Mike's forearms and repeated the calming words. When Mike had regained most of his composure, Cap helped him back to his feet.
"You okay now, pal?" Cap inquired. "You want to show me what you saw?"
Again, Mike nodded numbly. "Yeah, wh-where's the f-flash-l-light?"
Hank picked it up and handed it to Mike who shined it back at the muddy concrete pad. "L-look, Cap," he said. "See th-this?"
"Yeah, I see it. It's just mud," Cap answered, slightly confused.
"C-cap, it's frresh...still soft. N-now look." Cap followed the beam of light as Mike directed it from the mud to the lawn. Cap could see the indentations in the grass and noticed how they made a path to the fence. Then, as the beam moved to the fence itself, Cap could clearly see what had frightened his friend.
There, on the fence boards, were several large muddy streaks. Someone had climbed the fence to get in and out of the yard.
"Oh, damn," Cap whispered. "Michael, let's get in the house; I'm going to call the police."
Still shaky, Mike held on to Cap's arm and went back through the garage and into the kitchen. He slumped into a chair and lay his head on the table. Cap picked up the phone to make a few calls: one to the police, the others to his crew.