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Chapter 11 – Salutations, part 2
"Like a river, over stone..."
Raphael: Turtle Temper
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As April walked the sewer tunnels peripheral to the Lair she recalled Donatello's spice-and-earth musk. The virtual scent triggered a memory: April turned it over in her mind, like she was fiddling with a coin. In the early days, when she and Donnie were "just friends", she'd leaned in, to kiss him, on his cheek. It was her usual, wimbly display of affection.
She still didn't know why he'd broken character that time: rather than fumble, the ninja had boldly stated, plain as fact,
"You missed."
"What?" April had blurted, confused.
"You missed. You kissed my cheek. You missed my lips. Here: I'll show you how to aim right…"
And Don had leaned in, slowly, and gently kissed April on the mouth.
He'd tasted absolutely delicious.
After a moment, April had asked him where else she should have been aiming all this time.
That left Don a mumbling mess: his usual way around her. It had been incredibly cute.
Why hadn't he texted her back yet? She'd toyed with texting the other Turtles but didn't want to seem weird. OK: she didn't want to seem weirder than usual. Besides, maybe Don had really caught hell about his disappearance. She didn't want to stir up more trouble for him.
Hopefully she'd find out what was the what soon enough…
April approached the Lair's turnstiles. Despite the damp odor of the tunnels, the irresistible smell of pancakes and spices blossomed around her. April's stomach gurgled loudly.
The hungry teen made a beeline for the kitchen and not a second too soon: Raphael had just polished off his second stack of pancakes. As she entered, he was leaning back in his chair to make room in his stomach for round three.
He caught April's eye with a mix of surprise, chagrin and embarrassment. Quickly, he recovered by casually flipping her a greeting:
"Oh, hey, Red. There's a pancake or two left, if you want 'em. Plenty of apple relish, too." At which point, mock-ominously he squinted his eyes and warned, "But you better act fast or they're both gone."
Running with the joke, April smirked and squinted her own eyes to hold Raph's gaze: much like a hungry lion would another hungry lion as they stalked the same wounded baby pancake.
With the rest of her body stock-still, and without breaking eye contact, with one hand April deliberately pulled a pancake from the plate. To underscore her primacy, with her other hand she lifted the spoon from the relish bowl and slathered applesauce across the cake. Tossing the spoon back into the bowl, she used both hands to roll the pancake into a fat "cigar"; then proceeded to cram it into her mouth while sauce squished out the back end.
It was a truly gruesome display of dominance and territoriality.
"Well played, O'Neil, well played", joked Raph admiringly. "Just for that, I'll let you fight me for the last pancake."
"What… Last… Pancake?" issued April, innocently, between om-noms and swallows.
Raph glanced at the plate where the last precious slab of carb had rested.
Bug-eyed, he looked back to April who, somehow, managed a self-satisfied smile while pushing the last of the "cigar" into her mouth. Across the upturned palm of her free hand she defiantly held aloft The Last Pancake as though playing keep-away with a trophy.
"Not bad, Kunoichi. Splinter is training you well."
April laughed as best she could around her mouthful of pancake. She finished swallowing, then clarified: "It's not Splinter. It's Mikey who's the guru of stealthy food acquisition. I believe he has a secret kata, too; but he'll only share it once I've proven worthy of such great trust and responsibility."
Their chit-chat lapsed for enough beats that, in light of the reason for Donnie's malfeasance, the silence grew awkward. Thankfully, before anyone had to force the convo, Leo breezed into the kitchen for a cold pack and noticed April's arrival.
"Hey, April. How's it going? Did Raph leave you any pancakes? After last night, I hope he washed his hands before eating", he finished, staring pointedly at his brother. He opened the freezer and received a cold pack from Ice Cream Kitty.
April replied oh-so-sweetly, "Of course he left me some". She didn't dare follow up on the hand washing jibe. Then, noticing the ice, she asked Leo, "Did you hurt yourself?"
"Nah, just hyperextended my elbow. Again. Listen carefully to Sensei, April, so you don't adopt bad habits that will bite you in the butt years later."
"If you've got bad habits, Leo, then there's little hope for the rest of us."
Raph made a face. "Speak for yourself, Red. Fearless is a walking cautionary tale of bad form."
"And you're a walking example of bad manners, Raph", returned Leo.
"OOoooooo! Aaaahhhhh! You've cut me to the quick with your wit katana, Leonardo. I think I need to borrow your ice pack!"
"Seems like you could use it to ice your temper, Raph…"
As the two brothers bickered, April drifted out of the Lair's kitchen and into the living area - where Splinter was waiting to receive her.
Finally, Donatello had finished all his brothers' chores for that morning. Maybe now he'd finally have some time to fix his T-Phone: he desperately needed to make a parts-run. Being out of touch with April was crushing. But the only reason that Sensei was letting Donnie out of the Lair was because Don had emphasized the need to stay in contact with his brothers and father. No T-Phone, no Talky. And that was very, very dangerous when out on patrol. Which he had emphasized to his Father. Repeatedly.
The only thing left to do – and Donatello could not believe that he was actually being made to do this – was to give Mikey the first of many Splinter-mandated Physics lessons. This punishment would redefine excruciating, likely for both brothers.
Don leaned back on his stool, next to the blackboard he'd set up in his laboratory for this ersatz class, and returned his focus to his younger bro.
A highly skeptical Michelangelo cross-examined his genius brother: "So…lemme get this straight…If I bite into a slice of pizza, then the pizza will bite me back?"
"No, the pizza is stopped from moving further into your mouth because you hold it in your hand and then use your mouth to chew it. It's not like the pizza is going to noticeably exert an equal and opposite force on you!"
"I don't even understand why The Newtralizer would care about this mumbo-jumbo."
"NEWTON! Sir Isaac Newton, physicist and mathematician extraordinaire, author of the Three Laws of Motion, the granddaddy of classical mechanics, not to mention…"
"Oooooo, he's the dude with the apple!"
Donnie succumbed. "Yes. Yes, Mikey. Newton is the dude with the apple."
"It's good that he ate a healthy diet." With his feet, Mikey twirled the seat of his lab stool until woozy.
Donatello sighed deep and long. "Before we both die from mental exertion, can you please repeat back what we covered today?"
Michelangelo braked the stool with his legs. Pushing the tip of his finger against his chin, he mulled over Donnie's request.
"Well, first: if I start spinning my nunchuks, they'll stay moving until I stop their minershia.
Two: if my body thumps Raph, then his body will give me an equal but opposite reaction.
Three: if I eat a lotta pizza then it will take more force to get my ass off the sofa."
"Mass, Mikey. It will take more force to accelerate your heavier mass off the sofa." Still, Donnie was shella impressed that so much of what he'd tried to teach Michelangelo seemed to have sunk in.
"OK, well: it looks like we can legitimately tell Splinter that we've completed today's lesson. Time to go scavenging!" Donnie finished gleefully despite the dour circumstances. He gathered up his satchel and slipped his bo into its harness across his shell. Mikey secured his nunchuku in their holders and patted his T-phone to make sure that it was in place. That was obviously the only reason his older bro was letting him tag along on this mission: Mikey was the coms link to the Lair.
Donnie pushed open one of the lab's vast metal doors and let Mikey exit first, sliding the door closed behind them both. He must be deep in April-withdrawal because he swore he could smell a hint of her bouquet in the Lair. Unless…?!
He looked around and saw her below, in the living area, in conversation with Splinter. Heart pounding through his plastron, Donnie froze. Ever his friend, his mind began to keen a futile high pitched whine against the pop-and-hiss of brainwaves turned the texture of television static. His vision tunneled appropriately.
April. Splinter. Want to talk to April. Splinter in the way. Embarrassing. April. I am such a noob. April!
"DONNIE!", Mikey veritably screeched in his brother's earhole.
"Whu'?", Don focused his eyes on Michelangelo, ready to tear a strip off him for his wince-inducing yelp.
"Bro, you totally zoned out! What's wrong with you!?"
"April! Where'd she go?"
"Dude, she and Splinter walked into the dojo, like, five minutes ago! April was tryin' to catch your eye like nobody's business: I thought she was gonna pull out a soupspoon to give it a final try. Or launch a flare off Splinter's nose. Where in your giant egg head did you disappear into?"
Donnie felt that he needed a giant prosthetic hand for the magnitude of face palm his idiocy deserved.
"NUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!" A groan of self-disgust was all he could muster.
"I told Spinter that we were done class and I understood everything about how everything works now."
"And he still let us go?"
"I think he's still high on my cheesy omelette goodness."
"Well – as you like to say, Mikey – whatevs. Let's get out of here before he changes his mind. Did you grab Raph's trench coat?"
Mikey beamed at his older brother: "Yeah, I got it, and the spare he keeps, too."
Donnie's mood lifted, marginally. "Ok, little bro' – let's go diving for tech."
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