Page 36 of Hide and Sneak
“I’ve heard of alcohol causing dementia before but not this quickly. We should probably get you to the hospital.”
Maren and Cara exchange wide smiles while the rest of the group laughs. Lila seems to realize we’ve become the center of attention and successfully changes the subject to the book they’ve all been reading.
Jarrett shakes his head when they start discussing how hot the sex scenes are. “Women may not watch porn, but they’ll read the hell out of it.”
“I watch porn,” Lila announces.
At the same time Maren says, “It isn’t porn!”
That argument is cut short when two officers enter and walk to the counter. The man with the rabbits instantly leans over and whispers to his girlfriend. She quickly lifts her purse over the half wall that separates their booth from the one on the far side. While the manager walks over to talk to the cops, the fry cook meets her gaze, then buses the table, taking the purse behind the counter with him.
I’m not sure if they know each other or if he just saw an opportunity to help, but either way, he’s just in time. Both officers approach their table and demand to see their identification.
“We didn’t do anything,” the man says.
The officer looks at his driver’s license. “So that’s not you on the camera at Pet Time stealing animals?”
“Of course not!”
“Mm hmm.” The officer opens the box.
The guy’s words stumble and slur out. “Hey, those are my…personal rabbits. Service animals. You can’t just?—”
The officer cuts him off by pulling him to his feet. “Keep your hands on the table.” He pats him down, reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. I can’t see what it is until he holds it up.
The cop is having a hard time holding back a laugh. “Let me guess. This is your emotional support turtle.”
“It’s a tortoise,” he corrects. The offense in his voice is too much. Jarrett lets out a snort, and everyone is fighting not to laugh. Our whole table is watching now, along with most of the customers and employees. Who knows what else they might pull out.
“Turn around,” the officer orders.
There’s no need to pull anything out. As soon as the man straightens his back, a bird flies out of his waistband. The high pitched screech that the officer lets out when its wings flap in his face is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. The bird flies up to touch the ceiling then swoops above our heads.
The officer ducks down, looking around like he may get attacked by a pterodactyl instead of a little parakeet.
“I didn’t steal them! I rescued them! How would you like to live in a cage?”
“You’re about to find out what it’s like,” Officer Bird Phobia snaps.
The bird dives again, then flies into the kitchen. “Oh, it’s going to get hurt!” Louise cries. She chases it through the swinging doors and the manager follows her.
A customer from another table shouts. “Hey, that’s assault. Don’t let that bird get away with that! Arrest it.”
Laughter rings out and Row adds, “Do you cuff their wings or feet?”
“I don’t think he’d get within a mile of it,” Cooper says.
Ignoring that he’s become the laughingstock of the restaurant, the officer tells his accompanying female partner to pat down the woman.
“She had nothing to do with it,” her boyfriend argues. “She wasn’t even with me. You can check the cameras.”
“Show me what you have right now or I’m taking you both regardless,” the officer tells him, clearly not eager to continue his search.
With a sigh, the guy reaches down the front of his pants and pulls out not one or two, but three baggies containing clownfish. “That’s all, I swear.”
“Call animal control. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do with all this,” the officer grumbles to his partner.
“Take him back to Forty-two Wallaby Way!” I’m not sure who yells it but there’s not a person in the place that isn’t cracking up now.
