Upbeats 2: Crime After Crime
Page 8
Chapter Eight
Arthur spent an hour trying to piece together exactly what happened to the bus.
I tried to convince him he wasn't part of the forensics department, but it failed.
Eventually, after much pleading, hinting and suggesting, I twisted his arm into taking me home.
It was dark by the time we got onto the highway; the stars struggling to shine through the orange glow the large highway lamps cast over the four parallel lanes.
Arthur hadn't said much more than, "I'm glad you're alright," and "I was so worried," since we got in the car.
It was awkward, to say the least. I wanted to say something but, out of all the options that ran through my mind, nothing sounded right. Nothing felt like it could possibly ease the awful silence between us.
I was just grateful the radio was on; at least then we could both pretend we were preoccupied listening to the music.
It wasn't a station I would have chosen, had I a say in the matter. It was a station that played a marathon of Rock & Roll music from the fifties, sixties, seventies and eighties.
It was a genre I knew Luke would have enjoyed, but it wasn't for me. I much prefer pop.
Tempted, though I was, to change the station, I just couldn't work up the strength to move a single muscle: my arms felt like grinded, pulverized jelly.
I sighed and leaned back in my seat as Elvis Presley took to the stage.
My eyes grew heavy with sleep and I nearly nodded off, the steady, constant motion of the car and the hum of the engine rocking me to sleep.
You know how sometimes, when you're really tired, you begin dreaming, even before you're asleep, and the dream slowly helps you nod off but then, in the dream, you fall or something jumps out at you and you instantly jump? And then you feel stupid for having jumped because you realize it was just a dream.
Well, just as I jolted awake, hoping my brother didn't notice, I heard the radio news presenter interrupt the playlist.
I was about to nod off again when he began reporting on the bus incident.
I sat up straighter and listened, intently. Arthur must have noticed because he turned the volume up a notch.
"The bus was in great peril when two superheroes, unnamed, came to the rescue. This is no joke: they actually had super powers, as I am told by eyewitnesses and the members of a girls' basketball team who were on the bus as it hung, dangerously, over a cliff.
"One of the two superheroes, both believed to be young girls, actually stretched her arms, like 'a piece of chewing gum,' as a witness described it, and wrapped them around the vehicle to prevent it from plunging over the edge. Now, there are debates about the other hero's role but some believe she used her mind to move cars out of the way so the bus could be placed, safely, on the road again. I'm here with Stacy, a girl on the team, who—"
Arthur changed station, abruptly.
"Superheroes," he said, more to himself than to me.
"Yeah, crazy, huh?" I pitched in. "Who comes up with this stuff?"
"No, I believe it," he corrected. "Everyone there saw it, they have video evidence and not everyone can lie so consistently. It's just..." he trailed off.
"It's just that it's hard to believe. It's hard to imagine there could really be heroes out there," I offered.
"Hmm... maybe." Arthur looked over at me and ruffled my hair. "I am eternally grateful to them, though, for saving my little sister."
"I guess they knew how special a little sister-bigger brother relationship is."
We didn't say much after that, but the silence wasn't as awkward as it had been...