Average Joe and the Extraordinaires

by Belart Wright

  Joe walked to the kitchen and put the bag of snacks and food on the counter. He heard foreign sounds around him and felt something vibrating nearby in the typically still kitchen. He investigated and tracked the vibrations to the refrigerator. He opened it and saw chicken, bacon, eggs, broccoli, lettuce, grapes, celery, carrots, apples, strawberries, fish, bottled water, and juice. What surprised Joe the most about all this was that everything was cold.

  Joe: “When did this fridge start working?”

  Dahlila: “The day after you left it started working. Everything started working. We make sure to conserve as much as possible though, which is why you never see the lights on.”

  Joe: “The stove works too?”

  Dahlila: “Yes.”

  Mod: “I wonder who’s footing the bill?”

  Joe: “Me too.”

  Suddenly the tower didn’t seem so abandoned, but Joe had never seen anyone come or go here in his many years of visiting. Though he was startled by this new development, he was overall glad that the girls had all they needed to survive for a while.

  He climbed the winding tower steps to the clock faces with Mod following close behind. For some reason he climbed quite quickly, and by the time he reached the top he and Mod were out of breath.

  Mod: “Why the heck were you in such a hurry?”

  Joe: “I have no clue, just a burst of energy I guess.”

  Joe looked around and spied a pile of artwork on the table. He rifled through the strangely detailed crayon drawings. There was one drawing, a portrait really, of Melissa but with longer hair. On another drawing there were three little Melissas, each with a different hairstyle, but none matched Melissa’s own short hair. On the third picture were the three Melissas and an older-looking man with wrinkles on his cheeks and forehead. He shared some of their features and shared their color for his skin.

  There was another picture of that same man by himself and smiling. Under that, Joe found one of himself smiling and flexing his two-dimensional biceps. They were all really good pictures, despite being rendered in crayon. He was really impressed with the one of himself that looked strangely heroic, like a superhero almost.

  Mod: “This kid can really draw!”

  Joe nodded his head and looked up for Melissa.

  Joe: “Melissa!”

  Mod tapped Joe’s shoulder and pointed at a piece of paper, a small note near the pictures. Joe picked up and read the neatly written note.

  If you’re looking for me, friend, then you’ll have to try again. I won’t be easy to spot because right now I’m somewhere you’re not.

  Melissa Grant

  He put down the note and looked around the room.

  Mod: “She can’t be serious.”

  Joe: “Melissa, we don’t have time for this.”

  Silence hung in the air.

  Joe: “Okay, fine, but don’t cry when we find you. We know this tower better than the back of our own hands. You won’t be able to trick us for long.”

  Only more silence answered Joe.

  Joe: “Fine, if that’s how you want it.”

  Joe and Mod looked at one another and nodded. They had silently agreed to split up and search the two sides of the clock tower. Mod took the east side and Joe was stuck with the west side. Unfortunately for her, there weren’t many places she could hide. They got the obvious places out of the way first, like under the stairs and in the sleeping bag. That left up near the clock faces, around the clock’s gears, or way up near the roof. Joe decided to search the clock’s gears to see if he could find her there. He found her smiling and crouched between two giant gear shafts that rotated slowly.

  Joe: “You know this isn’t safe, right?”

  She laughed then crawled out of the tiny space.

  Melissa: “I was okay. I heard you coming and couldn’t believe you found me so fast.”

  Joe: “I told you that I knew this place like the back of my hand. Come on, let’s go get Mod. I brought us all some dinner.”

  Melissa: “Aww, but I want to cook for you all!”

  The little girl seemed to be pouting, but when Joe looked closer he noticed that she was suppressing a grin.

  Chapter 28

  The Conference Call

  Joe had awoken to a brusque phone call from Borland very early in the morning.

  Borland: “Be ready for my call tonight. Clear your schedule, we have a meetup. Stay tuned for details. Ya get that?”

  Joe: “Yeah—”

  The line went dead before Joe could say anything else. He buried his head in his pillows and lay back down with his phone on the nightstand next to his bed. He fell asleep again for a few hours and woke up at ten twenty-seven in the morning. He moped around for a few hours, not quite sure what to do with himself. His parents weren’t home and everyone else but Mod was at school or work. He was bored, and nearly left to go to the Malington’s house. He stopped once he remembered Patrias’ Zero Tolerance plan, and opted to do something more productive with his day.

  After checking his emails and various social media websites, Joe grabbed his backpack from upstairs and the rest of his books from his car, and decided to spend the day studying. He set up shop at the kitchen table and went to work.

  His English scores were bad and getting worse, as a thick stack of papers he pulled out attested to. Somehow he had managed to get better scores in Spanish, not that he was any good at that either. Worst of all were his pre-calc grades, and that was mainly because he didn’t know what the heck was going on in the class anyway. Somehow the F he got seemed too generous. He had at least managed to squeak out a C so far in speech, and C’s and D’s in just about everything else. Heck, he even got an A in weight training where the only prerequisite was that he showed up. But pre-calc was a language more foreign than Spanish, and Joe thought he’d never understand it.

  His problems with English came from all the rules he had to employ while writing. His teacher, Mrs. Lane, graded hard for improper use of grammar, spelling, and punctuation. Joe had already had trouble reading through all the books, and struggled to make sense of the subjects she had them write about. It seemed you’d have to be an English professor to get an A in her class, so Joe just shot for improving his D to a C for now.

  He took notes on his current book, A Clockwork Orange, which Mrs. Lane, who was also a Psychology major, constantly raved about. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it. The main character, Alex, seemed like more of a bad guy than anything else. Joe never liked to root for the bad guy, so he didn’t see the point in reading this book. All the same, he forced himself to take notes on it. After a few hours, he noted that the good guys seemed to be more twisted than Alex himself.

  He found himself hungry and stopped his studies to grab himself some lunch. He enjoyed some of his mom’s leftover lasagna that had the little pepperonis in it, and a soft buttery bread roll. He washed it down with some ice cold cola. He belched all the way back to his room, where he lay down for a bit until he found his resolve to study again. Next up was pre-calc, but he gave that up after twenty minutes of reading through the sections. He couldn’t understand any of it on his own. He instead opted to focus on Spanish. He had never done particularly well in any of his Spanish classes, but he did have a familiarity with it. He had taken it since middle school, and managed to get at least C’s in it by the end of every term he had it. All he had to do now was maintain that C, but the lessons were getting much harder.

  The last thing he opted to study was history, because he saw no point in studying for speech and found it impossible to study for weight training. He couldn’t keep his eyes awake while reading his history book, so he played games on his computer instead, and tried to study again an hour later. He didn’t like staying cooped in the house all day because he found that it made him sleepier. Studying didn’t help matters.

  Joe shut his books and walked up the stairs to his room. He was done with academics for the day, and coincidently so was his girlfriend. School had let out
about an hour and a half earlier. Most likely she’d be at home. He shut his door behind him and dialed her number. The phone rang a few times and finally she picked up.

  Kate: “Hey, hold on a sec…”

  It sounded like she was in motion, possibly cleaning, or just walking really fast.

  Kate: “Hello, sorry ‘bout that!”

  Joe: “You sound tired. Long day?”

  Kate: “You don’t know the half of it. Everyone picked today to be annoying.”

  She sighed loudly, her frustration apparent. Joe giggled knowing there was a story behind it. He began to fish for details.

  Kate: “You’re over there giggling? I’m glad you find my annoyance so funny.”

  Joe: “Not at all. So who annoyed you?”

  Kate: “For one, Mod. He decided he wasn’t ready to tell our parents that he was suspended. Not only has he not told them, but he also made me promise not to tell them. The idiot thinks he can keep a five day suspension under wraps from our parents. Whatever hair-brained scheme he had planned was swatted away when Patrias called and talked to our parents, saying — pretending, really — that he was concerned about Mod. He told them about the fight, the suspension, and blamed the whole thing on you.”

  Joe: “What!?”

  Joe was heated. He hit the only thing nearby that was safe to hit, his mattress, in frustration.

  Kate: “Yeah, I know! What a liar! On top of all that, Mod decided to stay out all day, so when I got back my parents decided to grill me about it. They wanted to know where Mod was, and when I told them that I honestly didn’t know they got all pissy with me, like I was supposed to be his guardian and hold his hand at all times. I had to remind them that I was the one that got him out of those messes, helped him clean himself up, and took him to the hospital. They shut their mouths after that.”

  Joe: “I don’t know what Patrias is trying to pull by blaming this all on me, but it’s totally not true. What’s his problem?”

  Kate: “He thinks you’re a delinquent. He told me as much at school today. He told me that you’re a bad influence and gave me the whole rotten apple speech, as if a principal could change who a girl decides to spend her time with.”

  Joe: “He hates me and I can’t figure out why. I’ve never done anything to him or been a bad kid.”

  Kate: “I don’t know, love, but even my parents are starting in on it. They want us to slow down.”

  Joe remained silent. He didn’t know what to say to that.

  Kate: “Love?”

  Joe: “I’m still here … what should we do?”

  Kate: “Absolutely nothing. There’s no reason to change a thing. You are a wonderful person and my parents are idiots for forgetting that.”

  Joe couldn’t help but smile.

  Joe: “Thanks, Kate. You really know how to say just what I need to hear. I love you.”

  Kate: “I know. I love you too, lunkhead.”

  Joe laughed.

  Joe: “I guess that’s my new nickname. Yours will be sugar-lips.”

  Kate: “Eww! No! Don’t ever say that around my parents.”

  Joe: “I’m steering clear of your parents for a while, so I can call you that, unless you prefer honey-smacks.”

  Kate: “Call me either of those and I’m putting you on crutches, then taking those crutches and beating you with them.”

  Joe winced. He marveled his girlfriend’s penchant for violence with a mixture of amusement and fear.

  Joe: “Okay, fine, pookie-bear, but the main reason I called was because I was feeling a little nostalgic. I wanted to see if you wanted to go to the movies. Friday they’re showing Ghosts, Goblins, and Girlfriends.”

  There was a tinge of excitement in Kate’s voice.

  Kate: “How’d you know I wanted to see that?”

  Joe: “I don’t know, a movie with zombies, ghosts, goblins, fairies, and a weird love story just all seemed to scream ‘Kate.’”

  She laughed on the other end.

  Kate: “You know me too well.”

  Joe: “Like no other. I wanted to see it at the drive-in like we used to when I first got my car.”

  Kate: “Oh, wow, really … like when we first started going there by ourselves…”

  Joe began to think back on those times, and all of a sudden felt a rush of heat travel to his face.

  Joe: “You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

  Kate: “No! Get your mind out of the gutter, lunkhead! Unlike you, I plan to actually watch this movie.”

  Joe: “So it’s a date then?”

  Kate: “I’ll have to think about it. You have a reputation as a troublemaker, you know.”

  Joe: “The only trouble I know is the good kind…”

  ************

  Borland’s call came later than Joe had expected. He had just started on another chapter of A Clockwork Orange when he received the call. Borland’s voice came through sounding husky.

  Borland: “Tonight. Your hangout spot. Back alley. You’ll see the girl first, whatever she looks like. I’ll show last.”

  Hangout spot? Did he mean the clock tower? If so, that was too close for Joe’s liking. He didn’t want Borland to accidently discover Melissa and Dahlila, at least until they were ready.

  Joe: “I don’t know about that. Do we have to meet up there?”

  Borland: “Not up for debate. We do this now. Start making your way there.”

  Joe: “Where are we going after?”

  Borland: “No time to explain.”

  Click.

  Joe grabbed his car keys, a thin jacket, a pen and a notebook, then made his way outside. His parents, who had taken his suspension surprisingly well, asked him where he was off to. He told them that he was going out with friends, which wasn’t entirely a lie, and after that jumped into his car and started for the clock tower on Sapton Street.

  When he arrived he saw Liandra partially sitting but mostly leaning against her motorcycle. She was in her normal form tonight. Her hair, long, dark, and voluminous, was unruly and covered most of her face. When Joe approached she swept it to the side. He greeted her with a wave.

  Joe: “No special appearance tonight?”

  Liandra: “This isn’t special enough for you. I made myself all pretty for you and you don’t even appreciate it.”

  Joe blushed and struggled to comprehend what she had said.

  Joe: “What!?”

  Linadra: “Relax. It was a joke.”

  Joe made a strange contorted face and smiled awkwardly.

  Joe: “Yeah, hehe, I knew it. That’s why I also … was … joking.”

  Liandra shook her head.

  Joe: “Why does Borland want us to gather here?”

  She shrugged.

  Liandra: “I honestly couldn’t tell you. He’s overly cautious, that’s for sure. He doesn’t want to meet anywhere we’ve already met.”

  Joe: “But of all the places. Do you think he knows?”

  Liandra: “I don’t know. I have no clue what goes on in Borland’s head.”

  Joe: “You know where we’re going next?”

  She shrugged.

  Liandra: “You’ll have to ask Borland.”

  They stood in silence for a while after that.

  Liandra: “Your normal life has gotten a lot tougher since the stadium, hasn’t it?”

  Joe didn’t feel like lying to her, so he nodded his head.

  Liandra: “Fame is sometimes cruel. I can see, though, that these tests have made you sturdier, stronger even. That makes me feel a little less guilty about getting you involved in all this.”

  Joe: “I volunteered myself. No need to feel guilty.”

  He saw her mouth tighten and she looked down to her side, then quickly back at him.

  Liandra: “Not exactly. You were ‘inspired’ by me. It’s a passive crafte, one of mental domination. I cannot control it and I cannot dictate what it does and how others react to it. I’m lucky that it rarely affects anything, but, when it does, those
who are affected usually do bold deeds, mostly in my favor. Deeds they wouldn’t have the courage to do elsewise.”

  Joe: “Seriously!?”

  Liandra: “That is the most likely reason you jumped in so recklessly to help me at the stadium. Since I can’t control this, when it does occur I typically use it to my advantage. To that end, I ended up using you to accomplish my goals, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for all the damage I have caused in your life.”

  Joe closed his eyes and shook his head.

  Joe: “No, it’s okay. It’s a bummer to learn that I didn’t really do any of that on my own.”

  He smiled sadly. Liandra got up from her bike, walked over to him, gently put her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

  Liandra: “All of that is in you. You truly want to do good and to be good. You wouldn’t have done what you did otherwise.”

  She smiled at him. With true honesty and understanding, he thought, which put him at ease.

  Liandra: “I believe your life will get better once all this is behind you. I’ll do my best to get you to that point.”

  Joe: “Thanks, B—Liandra. I appreciate that.”

  She nodded and they both waited quietly for Borland’s arrival. It was eleven o’ three by the time he showed up. He parked his car next to Joe’s and walked through the dark alley towards them.

  Liandra: “You’re late.”

  Borland: “I had a tail that I was trying to lose all night. These guys seem desperate for something. I’ve never seen them so relentless. I take that to mean I’m doing something right. Now, without further ado, let’s go get this over with.”

  Joe: “Where to next?”

  Borland looked at Joe like he was crazy.

  Borland: “Ya think I spent all that time losing that tail to leave again? The meeting’s here, at your little clubhouse. Now lead on. Take us somewhere with a decent amount of space so I can stretch my legs.”

  Joe began to sweat. Oh no, this is bad, he thought. I don’t know what to do. He didn’t expect Borland to want to have the meeting here. He had to think fast.

  Joe: “This isn’t the best place for a meeting. For one, there’s no light in there after dark.”