The Subatomic Kid (9 page)

This unexpected development was going to make things very difficult, because he had a date today, and he didn’t want anything to interfere with it. After all, it was his first official date, and if anything went wrong it could possibly scar him for life.

He wished he were grown up, because it occurred to him that grownups didn’t seem to have these kinds of problems. In fact, come to think about it, that’s why they were boring; they never seemed to have any problems…they just kept pointing out the problems everyone else had!

He looked at the truck again as the driver disappeared through a door into the back. The fact nobody got out of it was a bad sign; it meant he wasn’t imagining things. He wondered if he should give himself up, just walk out there and say, “I’m the one you’re looking for, stop the search.”

But then what would happen, what would they do to him? Or even worse, what would he have to do for them? No, they were the bad guys. What they were doing had caused all of this madness to happen in the first place. The Subatomic Masters had told him that the bad guys’ preoccupation with restructuring matter could end everything. The world, the universe, the solar system, the whole freaking thing that had taken billions of years to build!

The situation was extremely heavy, and he was only thirteen.
If it’s this weird now, how much weirder is it likely to get
? It’s a very bad sign when the answers to questions are questions.

***

Tex Roberts knew he had inherited good looks, an athletic build, and the talent to throw a football from almost any distance and land it on a dime. In his world these talents were the only currency he needed. He wasn’t clever in an academic sense; he didn’t need to be. On the football field he was a general, running ever-changing, complex strategies to achieve his goal, and he succeeded more often than he failed.

Cal Burton had the same inherited good looks, a lanky, athletic build, and he was blessed with the ability to hit a baseball so far and so often that it was taken for granted he would one day be a major league player. As friends the two were perfectly matched, and they pursued their craft in different arenas, which gave them the added bonus of never having to compete. They were the top of the food chain, and they made sure everyone knew it all of the time.

“This is no date!” Tex griped, so exasperated the words growled in the back of his throat. “Whoever heard of a date starting at nine o’clock in the morning?”

“Of course, it’s a date,” Cal laughed. “A date starts when it starts; as long as it starts, it’s a date.”

Tex was annoyed at having to get up so early for this charade. He had already lost money, and now he knew he was about to lose more. “Well, there’d better be kissing and stuff, or it’s not a date,” he grumbled.

“Aw, come on,” groaned Cal. “You can’t change the rules now. You never said anything about kissing and stuff; you just said a date!”

“Well, I don’t like that kid, there’s a dweebiness about him.”

“A dweebiness?” Cal repeated with a laugh. “What on earth is a dweebiness?”

“He’s shifty, he’s weak, and he’s a show-off,” Tex fired back. “He’s the kind of kid who’s always trying to be someone he’s not, and if he’s not careful he’s gonna get his ass kicked!”

“Why?” Cal asked, astounded at his friends aggression.

Tex pondered the question for a moment. “Just because he has an ass,” he smiled.

They both laughed; pointing out the foibles in others was what they lived for. It was an invaluable service, and the devotion of their extremely precious time to its pursuit demonstrated how much they cared about the welfare of their fellow human beings.

***

Steve sat in the back of the truck staring at the array of snooping equipment they had onboard, and wondered exactly what it was they were doing. He knew they were looking for a teenage boy because Mr. Hunter had taped a picture of him just below one of the monitors, but what bugged him was that he didn’t know why.

It was a feeling he’d gotten used to while working with Mr. Hunter. Everything was always a series of secrets, riddles, and enigmas. Nothing was ever explained until the eventual outcome was known, and then he could look back over the steps they’d taken and see how it all added up to a result.

There was one thing he knew for certain; if they were paying this much attention to one kid, then that kid was in deep, deep trouble. There was nowhere for him to run or hide, and resistance was useless.

He peered at the screen once more, and then he looked at the photograph. “Mr. Hunter,” he called out, “we’ve got some action here!”

Hunter dropped his newspaper and glanced up at the screen as two boys approached the front door of the house.

***

Cal pushed the buzzer and Tex hammered on the door with his fist. “Come on, open up dweeb,” he shouted. They both stood back and stared at the door expecting it to open, but it didn’t. They were mystified—there was no justification for this; they had made an appointment. “That kid doesn’t know who he’s messing with,” Tex drawled laconically.

Then the flap on the mail slot lifted, and a voice came through it. “Go away! Pretend I’m not here. Make sure you’re not followed; then come around to the back door.” The mail flap dropped back into place as the two boys turned to one another in stunned disbelief.

Tex was boiling mad, and in a testosterone-filled moment he leaped at the door and hammered on it with both fists. Cal watched him curiously; he recognized the symptoms. Complete abandonment of all rational thought, while indulging in an erratic display of physical frustration. He was capable of it too; it was partly due to being a teenager, and partly due to being an athlete. It was just one of those things: it happened.

***

Steve was antsy: the two boys on the monitor had just disappeared around a corner, and who knew how long it would be before something else happened? “Is there anything else you want me to do?” he asked.

Hunter dropped the newspaper again with an exasperated expression on his face. “It’s a stakeout,” he offered. “By its very nature it’s boring. You’re going to have to work out a way to entertain yourself!”

“Well you have a newspaper,” he said, “but I don’t have anything!”

Hunter was amazed, “I’m not your babysitter,” he counseled. “We are here to do a job which we are getting paid handsomely for. All you can do now is put this down to experience, and on the next stakeout remember to bring something along with which to entertain yourself.”

Steve smoothed his false mustache as Hunter castigated him because it itched like crazy. Then he watched as he snapped the newspaper up indignantly and disappeared behind it again.
It’s tragic how artists have to suffer for their art
, he thought.

***

John knelt on the floor staring at the world through the mail slot. He had watched the two boys walk away, and at the same time he had scrutinized the truck from SID’S PLUMBING. He had no idea what he was looking for, he just knew they were playing a waiting game, and it had him on edge.

It made him wonder; had life become complicated all of a sudden, or had it always been that way, and he’d just been too blind to see it? He didn’t want to think about it anymore…all of this thinking was giving him a headache. He was too young to be depressed; and besides he didn’t have time, he had a date. The strangest date in the history of the planet, but nevertheless a date, and he wanted to make an impression.

A first date was a very important step in his development toward maturity, he reasoned; it was a rite of passage in which he would unveil the mysteries of the opposite sex. No more would he become tongue-tied in front of a pretty girl; he would be dashing, debonair, and daring. He would be dangerous and complicated.

He was drifting on a sea of imagination, something he hadn’t done in a while. A wild wind of daydreams blew through his mind and all the insanity of the last few days was forgotten momentarily. He had booked a trip to nowhere, out of time and out of mind, and he was just about to enjoy the scenery when the hammering started.

***

Cal and Tex had gotten around to the back of the house, expecting the door to be open for them. But when it wasn’t, Cal, with his usual easygoing attitude, sat down on the doorstep and watched Tex, who was in a super hyper mood, beat up the back door. He kicked it, punched it, slapped it, and once or twice he even butted it with his head

Cal nodded and smiled. “You’re jealous. That’s why you told this idiot to get a date with her, because you don’t have the guts to do it yourself.”

“Cut it with the amateur psych, bat boy, you’re way off base.”

“I don’t think so,” Cal argued. “This is the second door you’ve beaten up in as many minutes. You’re stuck on that chick and you won’t admit it.”

“I won’t admit it ‘cause there’s nothing to admit,” Tex snapped, and when he turned back to the door for a last punch, it opened.

“Why are you making so much noise?” John asked. “I told you we’re being watched.” He stuck his head out of the door and looked around.

“Who would want to watch us?” Cal asked, as he stood up from the steps.

“The school,” John said. “It’s not what it appears to be, I was in the bathroom and there were aliens outside in silver suits, then they zapped me and turned me into a bear and a fly, and now they want to catch me—and do experiments, I suppose!”

Tex visibly recoiled at the insane statement, but Cal grabbed him by the elbow as he began backing away. “This dude’s crazy,” Tex whispered.

“I see what you mean; he’s probably hoping to get rid of us,” Tex added with a smile as the two of them followed him into the house.

***

Kate had absolutely no idea why she had accepted this date. It was completely and utterly preposterous, and yet she felt compelled to keep it by a force she didn’t understand. She didn’t have a crush on John; if anything she thought he was extremely odd; and besides he was a year younger than her, which at their age was almost forever. There was one mystery that did intrigue her though—what guy could quote a Haiku poem from memory? None that she knew!

She suspected he was clever, not in an academic sense but in an esoteric way. It seemed he knew things she wouldn’t find out on her own, and she needed to broaden her horizons because she was starting to feel trapped. Her appearance was becoming a real problem for her. She acknowledged to herself that she was somewhat attractive, but it was getting more obvious that young guys thought she was pretty, and consequently they acted differently around her. They would get goofy when they got into close proximity and she found it hard to have an intelligent conversation.

She had been pleasantly impressed by him because he had acted like a normal human being at their first meeting. He didn’t fall all over himself, and drool like a lunatic; he was confident, and she had to admit that it was comforting. Her intuition told her that he was a little lost inside, kind of jumbled up and a bit confused, but then again who wasn’t? It was too easy to get lost in this minefield jokingly referred to as life!

Even though others thought her attractive, she didn’t think she was pretty; far from it. She knew every physical imperfection she had, and when she looked into a mirror that’s what she saw—the imperfections! She often wished it were otherwise, but modesty prevented her from worshipping herself. Because beauty, or the perception of beauty, is a fleeting thing that abandons you when you least expect it.

She did feel flattered by all the attention she got though—she sure did—but she didn’t want to be defined by it. Her most ardent desire was to be independent, so she would do whatever was necessary to avoid becoming an accessory or a trophy to some hormonally driven guy in order to mask his inferiority complex.