Chapter 4
The next morning, it was my turn to get the paper. Once Ax had realized that most people got their news in daily print, he was hooked. When neither of us had anything going on with the Yeerks, we would sometimes go on a "change run." You'd be absolutely amazed at how many quarters you can find and where you can find them – in parking lots, around pay phones and vending machines, drive-thrus…basically, if you can think of a place people spend money, you can find quarters there.
There was still a small stack of them in Ax's scoop; Ax was off, probably doing his morning ritual. I picked up one in each talon and flew toward the gas station at the corner of the woods. Once I was across the street, hidden in some trees, I demorphed.
The others all say morphing is weird and disturbing. Me, I barely even notice it anymore. I guess when you eat something that looks like it belongs in an anatomy textbook every day, morphing just isn't really that bad. I heard and "felt" the changes occur, but it was an old morph, almost second nature. It probably wasn't even two minutes later that I was jogging across the street in my morphing outfit – bike shorts and a child's t-shirt. Luckily, it was still dark, and nobody noticed as I put my money in the box, pulled out the newspaper, and jogged back into the woods.
I walked slowly back to Ax's scoop, watching where I was stepping to avoid cutting my bare feet. Sure, the injury would be gone as soon as I morphed, but there's something hard-wired into the human brain to dislike damage to the body. Even if you know, logically, the injury is only temporary, it still hurts. It still bothers you. It can still make you feel sick. So, if I can help it at all, I don't do anything to get hurt in human morph.
Maybe fifteen minutes later, I stumbled on Ax's scoop. In hawk form, I knew exactly where the scoop was. I could spot it from a mile away, despite the bang-up camo job Ax and I had done on it. In human morph, with bad senses and no natural compass, I always considered myself lucky to find it at all.
I set the paper on Ax's coffee table. Now that my job was done, I quickly demorphed. Ax wasn't back yet, so I figured I'd get myself breakfast before coming back to help Ax with the news.
It took me a little longer than usual, but I eventually found a little garden snake out in the open. After I ate, I went back to Ax's. I found him standing at the table with the paper spread out in front of him, his four eyes scanning three different articles at once. It sounds freaky, but you haven't seen multitasking until you've met an Andalite. (What's up, Ax?) I asked pleasantly.
He took one eye off of the spread of papers and blinked it once in his "hi, I see you" gesture. (Good morning, Tobias. Thank you for the newspaper. I would like your opinion on a few of the articles,) he said a little sheepishly.
Ax didn't want my opinion, he wanted me to translate. While he spoke and read English just fine, it was the human concepts he had trouble with. He just wanted to understand, and without me explaining things, that was really impossible. Sometimes, even with me explaining, he didn't get it.
We went over the articles together. Ax knew just enough about human culture to be dangerous. I explained to him that a fishing rodeo did not involve people riding fish. I explained that a funeral procession was allowed to interrupt traffic because it was a sign of respect. I was just about exasperated when I spotted an article myself that caught my eye.
"Houdini Thief Strikes Again – Police Baffled, No Clues Left" was the bold headline that caught my attention. I quickly read the article. To any normal person, it would have been of minor interest. I mean, people just don't get away with robbing banks anymore. When I got to the part about how the electronic security had somehow been overridden, I got hinky. When I got to the part about the vault door being melted off of its hinges by an unknown, extremely powerful cutting tool, I got goosebumps. And when I got to the end, where they were discussing how odd it was that no cash had been stolen, I was sure. Yeerks. No doubt about it – for someone who knew what to look for, this had the Yeerks' fingerprints all over it.
I mentally sighed, already dreading being the bearer of bad news and ruining everybody's Saturday. To me, it was obvious the Yeerks were up to something – again – and it was going to be up to us to figure it out and stop them. Again. (Look at this, Ax.) I gave him a moment to read the article, and even though I'm sure he was full of questions, I didn't miss the way his main eyes narrowed as he read. (I'm thinking Yeerks, too.) Ax jerked, as if shocked that I knew what he was thinking, then shook his head slowly. (Why would the Yeerks be robbing bank vaults now, Ax?)