Page 113 of Nearly Roadkill
“Yeah! But sir, you said they were criminals, and that the minor would be a young boy! We were going pretty fast, looking at all these people. There was a very suspicious-looking threesome, let me tell you!” The cop rocks back on his heels a bit.
“Is that right? And why were they suspicious?”
“Well, one was young, and the other two were older, and the young one was white, the other two were Black, and they had sweatshirts on.”
“I see. Thank you, Officer, that’s fine.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, we just didn’t—”
“Right, I understand,” says Budge, the last drops of patience dripping out of him like hot oil from an overheated engine. He heads to the gate, where a nervous security guard directs him to a security cam monitor. Endless bad footage of black-and-white figures dances on the snowy screen. He scans forward as Budge watches. And watches. And then sees them: the Scratch and Winc and Toobe family. One’s playing the father, one the mother, and sure enough, there’s Toobe buried under a young girl’s guise. Looks uncomfortable as hell.
“Did you stop these three?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I did, sir.” He starts to look pleased, then checks himself. He did let them go, after all.
Budge can’t believe his own good behavior. He simply looks up, eyes encouraging. “And?”
“Well, they looked normal enough, and they were in kind of a hurry.”
Budge swivels his head around like an old dog. “A… hurry?”
“Well, yeah. The young one was having her first time, you know? Her monthly. The mother says they have to get her to the bathroom. Kind of embarrassing. I didn’t know if there was gonna be some kind of… accident or something.”
Budge smiles for the first time that day, but it’s not a happy smile; in fact, it resembles something more like a grimace.
“I can see why you might not have pursued that line of questioning,” is all he says.
“Yessir.”
Budge crumples up the nearest thing to him. It’s a paper ashtray full of butts.
“Aw shit.”
END JABBA NARRATIVE ENTRY
GWYNYTH DIARY ENTRY: AS SEEN ON TV
Three bedraggled outlaws are now draped over various of my overstuffed furniture, their eyes glued to the television. We are watching instant replay coverage of the hunt in the park.
Fortunately, our outlaws sped off in that car, losing any tails that might have been chasing. Chasing tails! Hah! As far as I can tell, they just drove in a great big circle because now they’re back with me.
My worst fears were confirmed when I saw a huge net of uniformed police converging on the amusement park, not thirty feet from my own home. Perhaps I was rash to carve my lair out of the warehouse space beneath the roller coaster. No, they’ve not found any of my doorways… they won’t find us here. Especially since the cops think they drove off into the sunset.
In any case, the pigs at last fled the scene, leaving behind them the jackals of the press. There they were, their prey clearly my young charge, whose photograph they persistently flash every chance they get. Just when I’d despaired the whole ruse was up, the three of them came bursting through my door, looking for all the world like some sitcom from Hades. Cats scattered everywhere.
Why no one picked them up is beyond me. Their disguises had slipped considerably, and they were flushed with the chase. They were laughing and crying and hugging me, though two of them had not met me before. None of them have commented on my beard. Perhaps they realize that, at this point, they’ve no room to cast stones.
END GWYNYTH DIARY ENTRY
TOOBE ENTRY
Awesome! All clear! Gwynyth says we can stay here ’til the heat dies down. Winc even called my dad to let him know I’m okay. Whoops, good idea, I forgot about that. He was relieved I was with Winc; he trusts hir completely.
Gwynyth says I can be online again; I just have to use all her tools. When we got to her house, it was like some bizarre family gathering. Only I liked all of them.
And Gwynyth’s going to teach me a lot more about her “craft,” as she calls it. She’s a phone phreak too.
We were on TV! Cops swarming all over the place. Then the guy talked to the press, the guy I saw in that photograph that time he caught me online. Must have been an old one, cuz he looked grayer now, and his face was like some action hero, all craggy and pockmarked. Both Scratch and Winc said at the same time, “Kinda sexy.”
