Well, then. Here we are.
Tails belongs to Sega Corporation, and Leonard Hofstadter and Sheldon Cooper belong to Chuck Lorre Productions and CBS. Now to get this posted so I can get the third episode of Buffy out of my head.
"Who's pulling into our driveway?" Daniel asked me, pointing at the Tesla. "And how does he know you, Vinny Lee?"
"I, um, I stopped his car." I wanted to leave it at that, but Sr. Darvosky started glancing at me with disapproval.
"You stopped his car? Couldn't the cops have handled –" he began, but Amos started defending me.
"And have him hit some innocent pedestrian? There weren't a lot of cops nearby." Both statements were true. I hadn't seen the highway patrol or the Philadelphia PD around the area. And the geeks had been in the car's path. They could have died if I hadn't shoved them out of the way, if the Speeder Trap hadn't worked. I hoped Sr. Darvosky understood that.
"Well, he must owe her something, Reuben," Sra. Darvosky countered.
"I'll answer him," I blurted out.
Everyone looked at me like I'd lit a match or something. (Really, no one trusted me around matches. Not that I blamed them, with my claws.)
"He's looking for me," I retorted. "Might as well show up."
I walked out to find him – claro – waiting for me. He was leaning against his car, crossing his arms and looking at his watch. Just behind him were Leonard and Sheldon. Judging from the way they were stamping their feet – as if they'd fallen asleep on them – they'd stowed away in the car to reach the house. How had Hardwell not noticed them?
"You seem to have a real knack for not being where I expect you," Hardwell told me when he saw me.
"I was helping a friend with homework. Estuvo todo," I replied. Amos approached behind me. "Oh, this is Amos. He's the amigo–"
"I've heard quite a bit about your group," Hardwell responded. "I listen in the bars."
"Bars?" Amos questioned.
"He's a bouncer at night." I rattled off the address, which Tails had looked up online earlier and telepathed me about. "I have a suspicion he works with another bouncer Hollins is dating –"
"Hollins? You mean the guy making our lives miserable? And his significant other is working there?" Amos shook his head and whistled. "Shady joint. Must take anyone."
I caught Sheldon jotting something down on a clipboard. Was that how they were taking notes? I had to laugh. A tad old-fashioned, but you do what works. I certainly couldn't judge. If anything, it would certainly be a nice observation of how Philadelphia could shape up. Or it could easily be burned if the city wanted to come after us for hate speech (which I doubted would happen).
Leonard pointed to the clipboard, making emphatic gestures at Sheldon. I didn't hear what he was saying, but his gestures suggested urgency. I got the sense they wouldn't be here long, whether they'd wanted to stay or not.
"You must've heard quite a bit indeed," Amos observed, talking with Hardwell. Neither one of them appeared to have noticed the geeks.
"Oh, yes," Hardwell responded. "There was quite a bit of gossip about the St. Francis fire. And some people suspected you were the ones who brought Camford so low. I'm not saying the guy didn't deserve it, but I didn't think he'd be taken down by a bunch of teenagers."
"What did you come here for?" I questioned, trying to get back to the problem at hand. None of us liked revisiting that incident. Besides, I didn't like his tone when he talked about Camford being brought down by teenagers. Just typical. People don't take teenagers seriously. At all.
"Just to show you something," Hardwell replied. He pulled that something out of his coat and handed it to me.
It wasn't any device I'd seen before in my (rather short) career as a VLADJI. It looked like some sort of antenna, like I'd seen on some RC toys. I'd have to get Tails to look at it. He would know what it was for. But I had the sneaking suspicion it was the reason Hardwell's car – and by extension, Miller's and Schultz's – had gone out of control and nearly hit people.
"The mechanic found it when I took the car in to get it looked at," he said. "It was attached to the steering wheel. I don't know why, and I know it's not a legit part of any steering system. The mechanic couldn't figure it out either. I thought you might be able to figure out what it was, since you hit me with that glue sticker of yours."
I didn't have the heart to tell him it was Tails' tech, not wholly mine. I'd only been testing it, and a life-or-death situation just happens to be one of the best times to test things out. But saying something like that might dampen my credibility, which was shaky enough as it was. I simply took the device and set it in my bag.
"I'll get it looked at, señor," I said.
After he left, I took off for home. I needed some time to think about this.
Mi casa was a small place, just a little out in the neighborhood. The place was filled with activity come summer – Luis practicing his basketball skills, some kids playing hopscotch – but since it was the school year, the outside was quiet. But I could sometimes hear the activity inside – someone laughing, the sizzle of bacon on a griddle when the windows were open.
My place was probably the only one that was silent, because there were so few of us in it.
"Vinny Lee!" Papa said as I got home.
He'd probably been waiting for me at home – or he could've been back from one of his gigs somewhere else. (He's a handyman, after all. Goes with the territory.) Either way, I was happy to see him. More than I could say for my mama, who definitely had avoided my life. I was glad to be left with my papa when they settled it in court.
"Good to be back," I replied – and then I smelled dinner. "Dios mio, I am starving."
I was happy to wait in the living room for dinner, though. It gave me some time to examine the doohickey. I took out the antenna device and one of my notebooks – the one from history – and set them down on the coffee table. I then drew the antenna out in the margins (in which I had plenty of space), looking between the notebook and the antenna and examining the latter closely.
I was just finished with the representation of the drawing when a voice above me said, "What's so interesting about that?"
Last summer, I would have flinched at the sound of Tails' voice up in the rafters. But now I was pretty used to him dropping in unannounced – in whatever form he took. "Hardwell wanted me to look at it," I replied evenly, pointing at the drawing. "You know, the bouncer from this afternoon?"
Tails nodded, then descended from the rafters. I was willing to bet he'd turned into some insect to get into my house. (It was his favorite way of coming in here.) However, upon lifting off, he spun his tails around, the way he normally did to descend in regular form. I guess he still wanted to talk to me. His shapeshifting tended to restrict him to telepathy, which he didn't like persistently doing. (Not that I blamed him for it.)
He landed next to me and analyzed the drawing, then the device. He dubiously picked it up. I knew from experience that Tails could figure out the inner workings of a device simply by putting his hand on it. He was special like that.
"Are you sure you should be bringing this into the house?" Tails questioned me. "Because it might draw the attention of –"
"Sé." It sounded crucial when Hardwell talked about it. I wondered if that little thingamabobber was what had sent Miller and Schultz's vehicles out of control, and what Madame Chabin had seen Hollins planting in her car. If it was, you could bet Hollins would figure something out and swipe it back – if he was anxious enough.
"You think it's what we're missing?" Tails asked, picking up my pencil.
"It's certainly a key," I whispered. "Why else would the cars have gone loco all of a sudden? Certainly, Miller's ride. He's a taxista. They have to know how to drive safely but quickly. It was quick, sí, but what I saw with Hardwell, that was not safe."
Tails glanced off at the notebook, drawing in certain points and labeling some parts. "I looked up Hollins on the Holo."
I snickered. "Hollins on the Holo."
Tails dutifully ignored me, continuing with his work on labeling my margin drawings. "Turns out, he had quite a few tickets for traffic violations. So, I definitely wouldn't say he's a safe driver. If he's driving the other vehicles, which aren't even his own, by remote control – man, Vinny Lee, I hope you're wrong."
I had to think about that. So Hollins wasn't a good driver. What did that mean? That Hollins wasn't driving the vehicles himself? GABAFFS was a group, which meant Hollins wasn't the only one in it. But he was probably the only one agreeing to that plan. Most people were more reasonable than to drop Pride flags on school grounds and front lawns or send cars out of control. I didn't figure the other members were like Hollins.
On the other hand, mob mentality is a powerful thing. If Hollins had coerced the others into acting, he probably didn't even need to commandeer the cars himself. He could easily have someone else handle the dirty work and keep himself scot free.
There's my happy thought for the day! I scolded myself.
That was when Papa called me to dinner.
"Coming!" I shouted. Then I asked Tails, "Would you like to stick around?"
"Gladly," Tails said. "I do enjoy your papa's cooking."
And what's for dinner? I wonder. Verse for the update: Genesis 12:2-3.
Please review! No flames! And stay tuned!