We spent the next hour packing up most of Dee's room. We didn't take any of the furniture, but pretty much everything else that wasn't nailed down found its way into the truck. Mrs Newell served us tea and cookies and little sandwiches despite Dee's insistence that it was not necessary. Every time I came close to finishing my tea, she refilled the cup and asked me another question. The conversation was all polite and friendly enough, but I began to suspect this was a parental interrogation. Dee's mother was trying to find out all she could about the guy supposedly dating her daughter. I answered truthfully about who I was, what I was doing in college, but was more circumspect about my relationship with Dee. It seemed clear that Dee had not shared her new superhero occupation with her mother, and even the lair had been reduced to an 'apartment' when she spoke of moving. I didn't actually ever lie to Mrs Newell, but I definitely left out lots of details of my time with her daughter.
Finally we finished up, said our goodbyes, and got back on the road. We rode together in silence for a while, then I remembered something I had been meaning to bring up.
“So I went to this thing on campus the other day,” I began, “It was about sexual assault, about creating an awareness program and... stuff like that.”
“Yeah, I think I heard about that,” Dee replied.
“I ran into someone there. That woman from the Rail. The one you helped.”
“Interesting,” was all she said.
“She's putting together a group. Sort of a roaming neighborhood watch,” I explained, “She asked that I extend an invitation. They would really like your help.”
“I'm not much of joiner, Barry. I prefer doing things my own way.”
“So I've learned,” I replied, “but I promised I'd mention it.”
“OK, message received.” Dee sat silently for a moment, then asked, “So are you going to help with this neighborhood watch thing?”
“I don't know. Maybe. Probably. I'm not sure about the whole going on patrol thing, but I feel like I should help somehow.”
“Well, just be careful. Remember, you're not a superhero.”
I turned, prepared to comment on the irony of that statement, but then noticed the tightness of her lips as she attempted to suppress a smile. “OK, now you're just stealing my lines,” I said.
Dee did not answer, but her smile grew slightly. We rode on in silence. Visiting her mother had left Dee in a different mood than usual. Contemplative? Wistful? I couldn't tell, and my supposed empathic superpower was no help.
We finally arrived back at the factory. Dee returned the truck keys to Homeless Joe, and all three of us began unloading the truck. Joe, still unwilling to enter the building, took his load only as far as the front door.
We entered to find Sebastian and Katie riding their skateboards around the far end of the factory. Katie was slaloming around support columns at a dizzying speed. Sebastian raced toward a tower of cardboard boxes. He crouched on his board while holding one of the manikin arms out like a medieval jousting lance, fishtailing to a stop and waving the manikin arm over his head in victory after knocking over the box tower. He noticed us at the door, waved the manikin arm at us, then skated in our direction, followed quickly by Katie.
“How'd it go?” Sebastian asked as he slid to a stop in front of us.
“Mission accomplished,” Dee assured them, “all objectives met.”
“Ruth and the rugrats went out for while,” Katie informed us, then she scooped up one of the boxes that Joe had left near the door. “Where should we go with this?” she asked.
“The far office,” Dee answered, “I'm going to set up in there.”
Katie set the box on her skateboard and gave it a shove in the direction of the office, then walked next to it and guided it to its destination.
“Isn't she the clever one,” Sebastian commented, then grabbed a box and did the same.
“You're welcome to stay a while,” Dee said to me as we each carried a load toward the office.
“For a while,” I answered, “but I'll have to get back soon. I've got a project I really need to finish.”
“Understood. School comes first. Just know that you are always welcome here, for as long as you want.”
“Thanks,” was all I could think to say.
With all of us working together, we made short work of unpacking the truck. I hung around for a while after that, probably a little longer than I meant to actually. We all lounged on the sofas, and I mostly listened while Katie, Sebastian, and Dee reminisced. Eventually I caught the 67 bus back home then dove immediately back into coding. Dee had insisted that school should come first, and in all honestly I did have plenty of school projects I should be focusing on.
This project wasn't one of them.
Devious Origins Page 17
