29.
An Aberrant Gain
Grayson zoomed down the highway, clad in a brand-new grey houndstooth
suit. Madeleine sat in the seat beside him, once again assuming the form of F.
Douglas McCarthy.
"This is a nice section of town," Madeleine observed, staring
out the window with a dull expression.
Grayson coasted the car toward the walled-off, gated community. "We're
almost there. I want you on your absolute best behavior. It'll be hard to
rectify what happened last night, you know."
"Alright," Madeleine sighed. "But when are you going to
take me to the arcade?"
"Later." Grayson pulled into the driveway of Edward Darcouver's
new home, motioning for Madeleine to get out. She transformed back into
McCarthy, slid her huge mass out from the seat and squeezed through the car
door.
Grayson made his way up the front steps and lightly rapped on the front
door with both knuckles.
"Coming," Edward said
*************
drowsily and shuffled toward the door. He was still wearing the same clothes
as yesterday, which were now decorated with fast food stations.
As Edward opened the door, he came face to face with Grayson Lee and
the CEO of the Zexaron Corporation, F. Douglas McCarthy. It was so sudden that
he could do nothing but stand there, slack-jawed and unsure of what to say or
how to act – especially since one of them had recently drop-kicked him into unconsciousness.
In a moment, all the courage he’d possessed last night seemed nowhere to be
found.
"Edward! Good to see you're doing well." Grayson patted him
on the shoulder.
"Yeah." Edward watched Grayson suspiciously as he noticed
another extreme change in the man's attitude. "Listen, about last
night–"
"Think nothing of it!" Grayson turned around and patted
Edward on the shoulder again. "We had a crisis last night, so everything
got a little out of control. Don't worry, we found the culprit. Everything's all
taken care of now."
Edward was silent, watching Grayson with wary eyes.
Grayson peered into the bare house. "I'd ask if I could sit down,
but it looks like you haven't gotten your furniture yet."
"Yeah, sorry. I can't really do much 'till Naomi gets here."
Grayson grinned back, flawless and pleasant as always. "I
see. When exactly is the missus going to arrive in Bakersfield?"
"Actually, she should be here any moment now," Edward said.
"I was just about to go out and pick her up."
"Is that so?" Grayson watched Edward intently.
McCarthy clumsily pushed himself into the house. "Why don't we go pick
her up for you?"
"Really?" Edward asked uneasily.
Grayson broke into a smile. "Of course. She's the wife of one of our
partners now. We need to make sure she’s properly settled."
"I think they just put in a new arcade at that airport," McCarthy
blurted out as they walked out of the house. He took the house key from Edward,
locked the door, and the three piled into the company car.
Nervously, Edward pulled out his cell phone and began to dial a number.
"Who are you calling?" Grayson asked passively.
"Naomi, just to let her know we're coming," Edward responded.
"Oh, that won't be necessary." McCarthy reached back and smacked
the phone away with his fat fingers. "Let's surprise her!"
"Yeah, come on," Grayson chuckled. "Let's have some fun,
Edward."
Ed's eyes were glued to their backs as he wiped sweat from his brow.
The car pulled
*************
onto the sidewalk in front of Frank's house.
"Thanks for the ride," Frank said, stepping out of the large
red Toyota. "I really owe you one, Owen."
"Hey, no sweat," the Bakersfield native tapped his steering wheel.
"You're just lucky I was out in the hills today. Never expected to see anyone
out there this early, ‘til you flagged me down."
"I know, I really appreciate it," Frank said. "You have
my number, if you ever need anything."
"Yeah, of course." Owen winked. "Just take care of yourself,
partner."
Frank waved goodbye, and the middle-aged handyman took off down the
street. Two hours earlier, he’d seen Owen's red Toyota speeding down the road
near the bluffs. Frank had made up a fairly creative story about getting a bit
too drunk with his buddies, then getting dropped off in the middle of the oil
fields as a practical joke. Frank had been tired, hungry, and mentally spent.
Whether Owen believed the story or not, he must have felt sorry for him,
because he'd offered to drive Frank back into town.
Now, Frank was finally home – dirty, worn out, and excited to see the faces
of his wife and daughter again. Somehow, after all that had happened, knowing
that they were both waiting for him at the end of this terrible ordeal made all
his worries fade away. Although there was some explaining to be done, they were
still safe, and Frank was back with them.
As he stepped inside the house, he realized it was unnaturally quiet.
In fact, after moving through the entryway into the living room, he noticed that
there was no one home at all.
Panicking, he scanned the counter, looking for any evidence of what had
happened, trying to figure out why the two people who meant the most to him in
this world were missing. On the table, he spotted his phone book, which had
been opened to the page containing the phone number for Frank's office. They’d
tried to call him.
Frank ran back into the garage. It was also empty. Then, it hit him –
they had gone looking for him.
Where could they be? Where do they think I am? And why haven't they called my...
Frank pulled his dead phone out from his pocket. It hadn't even
occurred to him when he had blindly dialed Edward's number – they could have
called. Grayson and Ed had taken over his mind, blocking out all else.
Frank tossed the useless device across the room. They wouldn't go all
the way out to my office...would they? No, stop guessing. It isn't going to
help.
He had no means of transportation, but he wasn't entirely out of options.
Frank picked up his home phone and started to dial his wife's number, then
stopped and hung it up. After some more thought, he picked it up again and
dialed Edward's number. The phone began to
*************
vibrate in his lap, and Edward didn't even have to look at the caller
ID to know who it was: Frank, probably at a pay phone or pleading with Ed to come
and pick him up...or something worse.
Grayson and McCarthy hadn't noticed, so he could have ignored it. But
there was no way Edward could forsake his closest friend.
He answered the phone.
"Ed?" Frank asked.
"Hi, Naomi," Edward spoke into the phone calmly.
McCarthy's head turned around to face Edward with a pouty look of disapproval.
Edward quickly faced the window. "Yeah, we'll be along to pick you up in a
minute," he said. "Mr. Lee and President McCarthy gave me a ride. Yeah,
it was really nice
*************
of them."
Grayson and McCarthy?!
Frank's heart hammered in his chest. No, it's impossible, it's impossible! Is
this the other Grayson that Edward was talking about? How can all this be happening?!
Frank slammed the phone
*************
on his lap and stretched his arms across the seat. "She's really
pissed," Edward muttered.
"I'm sure we'll be able to cheer her up." Grayson smirked.
"Everyone likes surprises, after all."
Madeleine steered the car
*************
out of Frank's neighborhood. As Owen prepared to turn his red Toyota
onto a main street, he failed to notice a woman walking parallel to him on the
sidewalk.
She was in her 50s, with long grey-brown hair and large circular glasses.
Her nose was buried in a book, and she walked across the pavement as if she
didn't have a care in the world.
There were no street lights and no cars coming, so Owen didn't see any
reason to come to a complete stop before making the turn. And so, he moved out just
as the woman decided to cross right in front of him.
"Holy hell!" Owen screamed, desperately shoving his foot on
the brake. In truth, there was no need. Although Owen's panicking eyes didn’t catch
it, a mere millisecond before the grill of his truck would have collided with the
woman, she whipped her right hand outward. An invisible pressure rushed over
Own’s truck, flipping it backwards. The roof crumpled like a tin can as it fell
and buckled under the weight of the truck's bottom.
The woman adjusted her glasses with her free hand and looked back to
her book. Then, a frantic, bloodied Owen wrenched himself out through the shattered
side window.
"H-help!" he shrieked.
A few intrepid people had already come outside and were phoning the
police.
"Are you alright?!" A man ran over to the woman. "Did he
swerve to avoid hitting you?"
"Why, of course I'm alright," she replied, looking confused.
"Why do you ask?"
People crowded around the wreck and tried to help Owen pull himself out
the car
*************
doors opened as Grayson and Edward stepped out, while McCarthy
stayed inside so they could keep their spot in the airport’s pick-up zone.
Edward followed his superior through the automatic doors of Meadows
Field Airport, a quaint terminal in the middle of Bakersfield's dusty plains.
Inside, Naomi sat on top of her suitcases, looking royally pissed. As soon as
she saw Edward moving toward her, she stood up.
"Where the have you been?!" she screamed, aiming a red nail
at him.
"Now, now." Grayson placed his hands on her shoulders and
gave Naomi's shoulders a soft massage. "Your husband worked very hard for
us yesterday. You know, if I must say...I do believe it's my fault that he was
late to begin with."
Naomi looked up at Grayson with eyeliner-caked eyes. "Oh, Grayson,
you don't have to cover for him. I appreciate it, though. We’re so blessed that
God gives even selfish people like my husband good friends to look out for
them." She shoved past her husband and moved outside. "Edward, you'd
better not make Mr. Lee help you with those bags."
Edward sighed and pulled up Naomi's enormous suitcases. One suitcase
was missing a wheel on the back, so he was forced to carry it by hand as he drudgingly
exited the terminal.
After Edward loaded the suitcases into the trunk of the car, Naomi
announced that she was starving and had to eat something or else she would get
sick in the car. After some weak arguing, Edward finally gave in and took her over
to the shop inside the airport.
At this point, Grayson circled around to the back of the vehicle and
focused his attention on the strange, faint psynergy aura emanating from the
trunk of the car. He watched to make sure Edward's wife was still occupied with
screaming orders to Edward within the airport. Then, Grayson stuck his hand into
Naomi’s luggage and weaved around until he struck a cold, wooden object.
"No...I don't believe it." A wide, maniacal grin spread
across Grayson face. "It's too...perfect."
He clamped his hand around the object and pulled it out from the suitcase.
Sure enough, Grayson had found a small, cedar clock.
Unable to hold it down any longer, The Snake broke into a loud,
high-pitched laugh. Madeleine watched him through the rear-view mirror, contorting
McCarthy's face into a disturbed frown.
Oh, my dear Naomi...
Grayson watched. What a selfless, generous woman you are. Your contributions
have never failed to forward both my material and mental efforts on this plain.
You are indeed, without a doubt...one of my most valuable pawns!
Next: Monkey Business
