Notmie didn’t show any outward signs of registering what had been said.
“In other words,” Captain Alex added, “the curse on your family will only stick around as long as I’m alive.”
“Ohh…” Notmie exhaled, laughing lightly as it started making sense. “So that means that to break the curse, all we have to do is kill you.”
That was obviously not the point Captain Alex was coming to, but as he thought about it, he realized that it was sort of the easiest solution to this conundrum. However, he made up his mind that he didn’t like that idea one bit.
Melono blanched. “That’s really not the solution we were thinking about going with,” she said
“But it would work, would it not?” Notmie asked, a greedy look surfacing in his eyes.
For a moment, Melono thought she felt that same greed stirring in her core, but before she would allow herself to validate it, she spat, “Goodness gracious, Notmie, cut it out! We’re not killing Alex,” just barely keeping herself from adding, “however much we may want to at times.”
Captain Alex reached over and slapped Notmie, not on the leg or perhaps the shoulder, but in the face. Square in the face, hand cupped ever so slightly, making contact on just the right area of Notmie’s cheek as to make the ideal noise; it was the stuff that dreams are made of.
Melono grabbed Notmie’s arm before he could strike back, giving him a stern look. When he began to protest, stating that it was only in retaliation, Melono nodded in agreement and proceeded to give Captain Alex a stern look to balance things out.
“Are you happy now, Notmie?”
Notmie shrugged.
She turned to Captain Alex.
“Are you happy now, Alex?”
Captain Alex shrugged.
“Good enough, now can we finish what we were talking about?”
They both shrugged.
“Fine, if you two aren’t into it, I’m not going to waste my time explaining it.” She turned away harshly and scooted down the seat, away from the others.
* * *
It was still another hour and a half to Paris, and, to Notmie, time seemed to be dragging along. He tried to entertain himself by twiddling his thumbs—a pastime that he quickly discovered was way overrated in its popularity—before he gave up and resigned himself to staring out of the deeply tinted window across the limo from where he sat.
As his eyes passed over a billboard reading, Think big! Think Spigarelli Automotives! the word think caught his attention, and a new idea occurred to him.
I bet I could pass the time faster if I used my brain.
It wasn’t like he’d never used his brain before, because we’ve already seen it happen and with sometimes impressive results, but he’d never done it just for fun. “Leisure thinking” he named it, or probably would have if he’d had a better vocabulary, which he didn’t, so he just thought of it as “funboredness thinking.” He decided this would probably work to pass the time, so he set himself to thinking about the conversation they’d just had. The more he thought about it, the more the pieces seemed to fit together, and the more he could tell which pieces he was still missing. One piece, he realized, was definitely missing.
“Hey, Melono, I know you’re pretty ticked at me right now, but where does Sinclair fit into this?”
Melono, who had been lying down on the seat for the past few minutes, feigned sleep and ignored the question. Even though it was obvious she wasn’t really asleep (no one looked that pissed off when they were sleeping), Notmie decided not to push the question.
He was tempted to address the question to Captain Alex instead, but figured that the only response he could expect to get to any question he asked at this time would be, “Shut up, Notmie. You’re an idiot.” And even that expectation seemed a smidgen too optimistic.
Thirty more minutes passed before Notmie was pulled out of his funboredness thinking time when he noticed something drifting along the horizon, appearing to be headed to the same destination as the limo. “Is it the tinted windows or are there storm clouds gathering ahead of us?” he asked, squinting as he pressed his face against the window.
“Shut up, Notmie. You’re an idiot,” replied The Captain, grabbing Notmie by the arm and yanking him away from the window and back into his seat.
Notmie felt a surge of anger jolt through his body before surfacing. He didn’t know what had sparked it—perhaps it was a side effect of higher self-esteem that tends to come along with using one’s brain—but he let it out without holding back.
He ripped Captain Alex’s hand off of his arm. “No, Cap’n, you shut up and sit down. I am not an idiot. If anyone in here is an idiot, it’s you… and your dumb cape!”
Captain Alex didn’t appear hurt, just shocked. Melono gave up on her sleeping charade, opening her eyes and sitting up in her seat to get a clearer look at Notmie.
“I’m not an idiot!” Notmie continued. “And farthermore—”
“ Further more—” said The Captain.
“—Furthermore, I wish you two would stop treating me like I’m the only one here with issues. If you haven’t noticed, Captain Alex has changed his name, like, six times, and he wears a cape everywhere. And Melono, you… well I’m sure you have issues too! Sure, I’m not the smartest cookie in the shed, but that doesn’t make it right for you two to keep leaving me in the dark. ‘Oh, it’s just Notmie, he doesn’t need to know all the important details that us intelligent people discussed while he was unconscious from a self-induced head trauma.’ Let me remind you that my head trauma was a result of thinking! I took one for the team, and this is how you repay me? Treat me like a moron and keep me in the dark as much as you can? Thanks for nothing!”
Captain Alex held up a hand to stop Notmie from continuing. “Whoa, whoa, Notmie, calm down. We didn’t mean anything personal by it all—”
“Of course you meant it personally! Are you seriously trying to tell me that you treat everyone as if they’re morons who can’t even get out a coherent sentence?”
“Well you do sort of collapse every time you try to think of something complicated…”
“I just thought of something complicated a few minutes ago, and I didn’t collapse.”
“You were already sitting down.”
Notmie’s eye twitched as he searched his blossoming mind for a response. Melono watched the exchange silently as a smirk snuck onto her face.
“All I needed was some practice,” Notmie said, “that’s all. And I didn’t even feel like I needed to collapse. I must be getting it down now, so watch out, because one day I’ll be smarter than you are, Cap’n!”
Captain Alex chuckled. “Oh really? Is that a fact?”
“Sure is!
Melono interrupted, changing the subject. “I think you’re right, Notmie. There’s a storm up ahead.”
Captain Alex and Notmie forgot their spat as they looked out at the darkening sky.
“You were right after all, Notmie,” said The Captain, all the aggression gone from his voice. “There is a storm a-brewin’.”
“I love the way the air smells right before it rains,” said Notmie softly.
“Let’s open a window then,” Melono suggested.
Captain Alex rolled down the automatic windows while the other two inhaled the air.
“That does smell good,” agreed Captain Alex.
They opened the rest of the windows in the back of the limo and sat quietly while the wind whooshed through their hair and into their ears. Thunder began rumbling off in the distance, gradually coming closer, increasing in volume, shortening in length.
Captain Alex and Melono closed their eyes and relaxed back in their seats, but Notmie kept his eyes wide open, unable to pry them off of the thunderhead amassing ahead.
It wasn’t the size of it that captivated him so much—though it was becoming alarmingly large to where anyone familiar with Texas twisters might find himself increasingly cautious about driving toward such a brute—it was something
else about it that kept him staring; something more ominous.
“It’s like this book I read once,” he said.
From behind her closed eyes, Melono asked, “What is?”
“The storm,” Notmie replied.
“Oh. What book?”
He thought about it. Yes, it was exactly like that book. “ Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. You know, that part after the cream cheese and jelly sandwiches where things start to get really crazy,” he replied, basking in the glory of his literary allusion.
Drat, he thought, now I’m hungry. I bet those giant donuts weren’t as bad as the book made them out to be…
They rolled into Paris just as the rain began to collide with the windshield and Captain Alex began frantically rolling up all the windows. Notmie hadn’t realized it was such a large town. When he’d come here with Captain Alex just weeks before, they had stayed on the outskirts in the tiny French café, and when he used to come here to visit his grandpa, the population hadn’t been nearly what it now seemed to be.
After sitting silently, transfixed by the storm for so long, Notmie’s voice seemed to erupt through the back of the limo. “I didn’t realize Paris was such a large town!”
The volume of it caused even him to wince, so needless to say, Captain Alex and Melono were startled and quite put-off.
“Are we there?” Melono, who’d drifted off for the past few minutes, asked groggily.
“Looks like it,” Captain Alex said, straining to see outside of the rainy windows. “Quite a storm, isn’t it? If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was tornado weather.”
Melono knocked on the barrier between them and the front seat, and it rolled down immediately as the back of Nathan’s head came into view. He was leaning over the steering wheel with a determined look on his face and didn’t even risk removing his eyes from the road.
“What do you need?” he asked irritably, not sparing a glace for his passengers.
Melono was taken aback by the harshness of his voice—she’d never known him to speak to anyone like that, especially unearthly beautiful people—and asked him sheepishly, “Do you know where exactly you’re going? The address is 25225—”
“Yeah, I know the address all right. Sinclair practically engraved it into my skull before I left. Now will you please sit back in your seat before I get us in a wreck and Sinclair decides I’m not fit to live?” His voice cracked slightly as he finished.
“Sheesh, okay,” Melono said, and immediately the divider began to roll up again.
“Sooo…” Notmie began once the divider was closed, “I guess there’s no question about Nathan’s involvement now, is there?”
Melono knew Notmie was right, but was nevertheless annoyed at the slight betrayal. “Yeah, I guess not. And I trusted him when he said he didn’t know who was giving the orders. I guess that means that I… was duped? But that doesn’t make sense. I never get duped. I’m always the one duping.”
“Maybe there’s something in that stupid notebook of yours to cheer you up,” Captain Alex said sarcastically.
“Hey, maybe you’re right! Great idea, Alex!” she said. She reached under her seat where she’d stashed her cash and pulled out the leather-bound notebook, flipping through a few pages before deciding upon one and setting her eyes to it.
Captain Alex clearly wasn’t expecting for her to actually follow his advice. He folded his arms with a “hmph!” and focused his gaze outside the limo.
Just as things had settled down in the back seat, the vehicle stopped and Nathan rolled down the divider again.
“Here we are,” he said.
Notmie and Captain Alex began to get up, but Melono motioned for them to stay seated.
“Wait here one second. I want to have a quick chat with Nathan before we leave. It won’t be long.” She got up from her seat and opened the door, stepping into the downpour. They saw her run past the window and hop into the front seat of the limo. Nathan rolled up the divider.
“Wonder what she needed to talk to him about?” Notmie asked, looking thoughtfully toward the driver’s seat.
“She’s probably still dwelling on how she got duped. But guess what?” A greedy grin stretched across The Captain’s face.
“What?”
“She left the notebook. Man, she really must have been distracted,” Captain Alex said, reaching for the book. But Notmie grabbed his outstretched hand.
“Wait! Should you really be doing that, Cap’n? There must’ve been a reason she didn’t want you to read it. Plus, she wouldn’t be very happy if she found out that you read it when she told us we couldn’t.”
“Since when are you my conscience? Aren’t you the one who’s been conning people out of money, jobs, and spare bedrooms for most of your life? Don’t you start with me.”
Captain Alex pulled his hand free and grabbed the notebook. Though his conscience wasn’t too happy with him either, his curiosity outweighed all other considerations.
Turning to the title page, Captain Alex read the handwritten lettering aloud. “The Fraud.” Then, turning to Notmie, he asked, “What is that, the title? I wonder what this is all about.”
He turned the page and saw a letter scribbled on it. Notmie leaned over his shoulder, and they both read it.
Do not read until the evening of 4/29 —
Dear Melono,
I’m sorry this isn’t entirely comprehensive as far as facts go. I only just decided to write this today, and seeing as how you’ll be at my house tomorrow afternoon and will be leaving in just a couple weeks, this is all I could come up with. Lucky for you, I’m a fast writer, but unlucky for you, my handwriting leaves something to be desired. As you read this, some of your questions will be answered, but I’m afraid there are some that my mother, more knowledgeable than myself about the rules that exist for prophecy, has forbidden me to tell you. As you might have guessed, this is a chronicle of some of the events leading up to and following your arrival at my house. To that which I can’t explicitly explain, I’ve implicitly hinted. I hope this will help Notmie, Alex, and you to break this curse of yours.
I’m also terribly sorry for the role I’ve played in this. I will want to tell you about my involvement with Sinclair the whole time you’re with me, but I am afraid this might keep you from trusting me with the fullness that is necessary to get you on the right track. For this, I apologize but am not sorry. Let me explain.
The rest continued on the next page, but before Captain Alex could turn to it, they heard the passenger’s door close and saw Melono hop out into the rain. The Captain slammed the notebook shut and placed it back on the seat where Melono had left it.
The door opened and a thoroughly soaked Melono jumped in and slammed the door shut behind her. She opened her mouth to speak, but spotted the notebook lying on the seat and stopped.
Was it just her imagination or was the other side facing up when she left? She eyed Captain Alex suspiciously, and he returned her look with one as innocent as a puppy. She knew he was never that innocent, so something must be up.
“Alex, did you read my notebook while I was up front?”
The Captain tried another tactic in his arsenal for looking innocent, fluttering his eyelashes awkwardly.
“What?” he said, still fluttering. “Oh, the notebook. I didn’t even realize it was still there. Rats, I would have liked to read some of that. Notmie and I were just sitting and discussing the upcoming events, right Notmie?”
Notmie gave a vague nod, his mouth hanging open as he observed the strange interaction between Captain Alex and Melono.
“And speaking of discussions, what were you talking to Nathan about up there?”
Melono could recognize a diversion when she saw one, but she figured that if Captain Alex had read the notebook—and she was positive at this point that he had—there was nothing she could do about it now.
“I was just making sure I hadn’t been duped. He was given orders by Sinclair to wait outside my house every mornin
g to drive me places so that he would develop a rapport with me, but he had no idea why he was given those orders. He was also threatened until he agreed to drive all the way out to the bank to pick us up. He didn’t realize it was going to be us who he was driving, but when we walked out of the bank, he knew we were the ones intended. But we straightened things out, so we’re good now.”
She grabbed her notebook off of the seat. “Y’all ready to get this party started?”
Captain Alex grabbed his wine bottle out of the ice bucket and Notmie grabbed his mirror.
“We’re going to get soaked, aren’t we?” asked Notmie.
“Pretty much. Maybe I should leave this here,” she said, tossing the notebook back onto the seat.
Melono took a deep breath and opened the door.
As they jumped out of the car and into the storm, the wind blew fiercely, and Captain Alex wrapped his cape tightly around himself. As the rain began to sting Notmie’s eyes, he tried looking toward the ground, using his mirror to find his way, but after tripping over a speed bump, a fire hydrant, running into a telephone pole, and nearly twisting his ankle on the curb, Melono snatched the mirror from his hands, only giving it back once she’d received a non-verbal promise to stop using it for navigation.
They found that 25225 Mail Drive was nothing more than an old abandoned warehouse. None of them was surprised by this revelation. In fact, they’d all felt quite sure the entire way that it would be an old abandoned warehouse and would have been shocked if it had been anything but.
“French doors,” Captain Alex commented as they approached the overhang of the building.
The pounding rain made it nearly impossible to hear anything else.
“Whaaaat?” Notmie yelled, having only heard a garbled mess of syllables come from The Captain that sounded like “Drenched pours.” Indeed, his pours were probably drenched at this point, but that didn’t seem like the type of thing one actually says.
“FRENCH DOORS,” Captain Alex repeated.
Notmie heard him this time, and once they were on the covered landing and out of the deafening rain, he asked, “Yeah, so what? Why’d you mention it?”
The Fraud Page 28
