The Quest for the Kid

by Adrienne Kress

  Evie pushed the button for her floor and instantly was whooshed down to their suite. She fumed at the sprawling city out the windows and below her. Stupid amazing views with stupid oceans, and why did views matter anyway? They were just things you looked at with your eyeballs.

  The doors opened, and standing there was Sebastian, sweaty and out of breath.

  “How did you…,” asked Evie, stepping out of the elevator as if in slow motion.

  “The…stairs…,” wheezed Sebastian, bending over and placing his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath.

  “Why did you…”

  Sebastian raised his finger to stop her question and continued to pant for a moment. When he’d collected himself and stood upright, he said, “Because you were upset. Because I didn’t want you feeling you were alone. I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it.” He didn’t seem too happy at that pronouncement.

  “Okay.” She was still angry, but her shock at seeing him had been a bit of a metaphorical bucket of cold water over her head and had definitely cooled her down.

  “And also because I agree with you. Let’s do it. Let’s pretend to be child stunt-car drivers. Let’s pretend that’s a thing people do.” He said it totally sounding unsure of himself, but Evie didn’t care.

  She gave him a big hug, and he didn’t even flinch that much this time. Then she said, grinning, “Fantastic! Okay, let’s figure out exactly how we’re going to do this!”

  “Where are all the cars?” asked Evie as their driver pulled into the parking lot.

  Sebastian didn’t say anything because he assumed she didn’t actually think he knew the answer. She was just puzzling out loud. But it was a decent question, considering the location.

  The SRAC, short for the Stunt Racing Association of Car-drivers,*1 was located along the coast, south of Malibu. It was a large building that looked almost deserted, sitting beyond a wide empty parking lot. Where the cars belonging to the members were, Sebastian had no idea.

  The building itself was nothing much to look at, a large white stuccoed rectangle with a single black door slightly to the left of center. It was in fact altogether possible, Sebastian considered as they approached the door itself, that this was not actually the right place. It was possible that the driver who worked for the Explorers Society and who had been more than happy to bring them here had taken them to the wrong place. There wasn’t even a sign. After all, organizations enjoyed signs, did they not? At least, that’s what he’d experienced in his short time knowing about them. Maybe it was only explorers who liked signs, though. Perhaps spending your life searching for places made you really want to know what a place was if you had the opportunity.

  “That’s a big white building with a little black door,” said Evie, stating the obvious, as she sometimes did.

  Mind you, the door wasn’t little. It only looked little in proportion to the vast white walls of the building. Sebastian was about to say as much, but then he realized that it didn’t matter logically that the door wasn’t little. It looked little. And the building looked big.

  “Yeah,” he said. He could tell that Evie was looking at him. “What?” he asked.

  “I thought you might point out that the door was actually normal-sized,” she said.

  “I figured you meant it as more in appearance than literally.”

  “I did.”

  He looked at her. She was smiling. He shook his head.

  “Okay, so let’s do this,” she said, raising her hand to knock on the door. She took a moment and then, with a nod to herself, she knocked.

  They stood.

  They waited.

  What if this was the wrong place? What if it was an abandoned building? Worse, what if it wasn’t abandoned? What if—now he actually shuddered at the thought—what if one of the men in black answered the door?

  The door opened.

  Staring down at them was a person in a full race-car-driving uniform, all white with a red stripe up the side and a matching helmet, the visor of which was on and tinted a deep black.

  Well, it certainly seemed like the right place.

  The person said something muffled.

  Sebastian and Evie looked at each other, then back at the driver.

  Another muffled something.

  “I’m sorry, but we can’t understand you,” said Evie.

  There was a heavy muffled sigh from within the helmet, and its owner finally pulled it off, revealing a sheet of perfectly straight long black hair that fell smoothly over the driver’s shoulders. Sebastian was impressed. He imagined that his hair would not look nearly so neat and tidy after being smushed up inside a helmet like that.

  “I was asking,” the person said, “who are you and what you want?”

  “We’re stunt-car drivers and would like to join the society,” replied Evie, her chin tilted upward slightly.

  Hearing it said out loud to an actual stunt-car driver…well, it seemed an even sillier idea than when they’d first come up with it.

  The woman stared at them for a moment.

  “You’re stunt-car drivers,” she said slowly.

  “Yes. We haven’t worked on much, but there’s a new kids’ film coming out soon, and we were hired as the stunt-car drivers. Our director said we should join the society before filming begins.” Sebastian was seriously worried, but also, he had to admit, impressed. Clearly Evie had been preparing for this meeting as they’d journeyed across the city.

  “What’s the name of the film?” asked the woman quickly.

  “The Little Car That Could,” replied Evie just as quickly.

  “Who’s the star?”

  “Heather Dann.”

  “What’s the story?”

  “When a twelve-year-old girl is left behind at a racetrack by her neglectful parents, she has to use all her wiles to prevent a group of burglars from stealing the Golden Gearshift trophy.”

  The speed with which Evie was answering all these questions astounded Sebastian. The woman looked at him.

  “Are you in it too?” she asked.

  There was a moment when he tried to think of something as impressive-sounding as what Evie had said. To show his friend that he, too, could think on his feet. That he could be creative and even a little whimsical.

  “Yes,” he said.

  The woman turned back to Evie. “Where are your parents?”

  On that one Evie faltered. “Uh…”

  “We asked them if we could come on our own. We’re tired of being chaperoned everywhere,” replied Sebastian a little too quickly, trying to help Evie.

  There was a long pause now as they were scrutinized by the woman in the white-and-red suit. After what felt like just enough time for her to see through their rather thin story, she finally said, “Okay. You can come in.” And she turned around and disappeared inside, leaving the door open for them.

  Evie and Sebastian exchanged another look, then followed.

  They found themselves in a small foyer. The floors and walls and even ceiling were checkered in black and white squares, and the effect was enough to make everything look like it was spinning slightly. Yay, optical illusions, thought Sebastian, blinking hard.

  “Have a seat,” said the woman as she vanished through a door hidden in one wall.

  Evie and Sebastian looked around and then at each other.

  “Where?” questioned Evie.

  Sebastian agreed. Exactly what were they meant to sit on? The floor, maybe?

  “Maybe there’s something we can fold out from the wall,” suggested Sebastian. And they each made their way to an opposite wall. At almost the exact same moment they both stumbled, banging into something seemingly invisible, and they cried out in pain in unison.

  “What was that?” said Evie, wincing.

  S
ebastian looked down at the empty space before him. Tentatively he reached out until his hands grazed a surface. Was it…was it an invisible chair? He leaned in closer. It was then that he realized what was going on. The chair was a totally visible chair, as most chairs are,*2 but painted in the exact same checkered squares as the rest of the room. The chairs were camouflaged.

  “That’s pretty dangerous,” said Evie, realizing it at the same time and taking a seat across from him.

  “Yeah,” said Sebastian, also sitting. They sat facing each other kind of awkwardly. Evie laughed. “What is it?” he asked.

  “You look like you’re floating, or like you’re holding yourself up in a sitting position,” she said.

  Sebastian smiled. “Yeah, you do too.”

  A previously totally invisible door right beside Sebastian suddenly swung open and a man in a bright purple suit jacket and trousers entered the room. He had blond wavy hair, and the angles of his face were as severe as his expression. He glared down at the two of them.

  There was a small quiet sound of squeaking then. The man didn’t avert his hard gaze even as Sebastian felt a need to turn to see where the squeaking was coming from. It slowly got louder and louder until finally he saw the source.

  A small red dachshund with a small set of tires supporting his rear legs, as well as goggles covering his eyes, had slowly but purposefully wheeled himself into the room.

  Sebastian turned back to the man, not entirely sure what was going on.

  “I’m Daniel Dashing,” said the severe-looking man finally. He stopped. And waited. When neither Sebastian nor Evie said anything, he tried again. “I’m Daniel Dashing.”

  “I’m Sebastian,” said Sebastian slowly, confused.

  “Oh, Mr. Dashing!” said Evie, springing to her feet and extending her hand. “It’s so great to meet you in person. We’re such big fans.”

  Sebastian got up too, now racking his brain for where he was supposed to know Mr. Dashing from.

  For his part, Mr. Dashing shook Evie’s hand with a softened expression. “This is Wheels,” he said, introducing the dog.

  “Of course,” said Evie. “The famous Wheels.” She bent down and gave the dog a small tap on the head before glancing at Sebastian. That was when he understood. She was pretending to know who the man was because Mr. Dashing assumed that he (and his dog) was so famous that they would. Or assumed that, at the very least, fellow stunt-car drivers would.

  “Oh, wow. That’s…Wheels,” said Sebastian, awkwardly standing to pet the dog himself. This did seem to be the right move for both dog and owner, and the man appeared to relax as he sat on a heretofore unseen chaise longue. He stretched out along it, resting his right elbow on its arm, now looking like he was floating on his side. “Thank you,” he said as Evie sat. Sebastian followed her lead. So much up and down, and he had no idea why. The dog wheeled itself over to the side of the chaise longue and started to slowly climb up what was evidently a ramp. He then sat next to his owner and stared at them blankly through his dark goggles.

  “So, Ms. Velos tells me you are child stunt-car drivers,” he said.

  “Yes, and we’d like to join the association,” replied Evie.

  Mr. Dashing thought for a moment. “That can’t be legal.”

  “Oh, I assure you that we work the same hours as child actors, and we always have a tutor on set,” replied Evie. Sebastian had no idea how she understood that this was something she should say or even knew such things were rules.

  Mr. Dashing shook his head. “No, I meant a person your age driving.”

  “Oh!” said Evie with a kind of laugh that Sebastian had never heard before. It sounded slightly, well, dismissive. Like she thought the man had said something foolish. Which wasn’t exactly polite, and also Sebastian couldn’t figure out where the man had said something that wasn’t accurate.

  “You laugh?” said Mr. Dashing.

  “I’m so sorry. Yes, it makes sense that you’d think that. A lot of people do. But no, it is legal.” Evie stopped there and continued to smile at the man.

  Mr. Dashing furrowed his eyebrows. For his part Sebastian was terribly unconvinced. Just because someone said something was legal didn’t make it so. Surely Mr. Dashing would see the flaw in Evie’s logic.

  “Hmm. Well. Still sounds suspicious to me,” he said, sitting upright and stroking Wheels. He examined Evie’s determined expression. “Then again, maybe not.”

  He finally looked over at Sebastian, and Sebastian stared back at him hard. So hard that he forgot to blink. He was totally confused about why his eyeballs were feeling all dry and stinging and how he could solve that problem.

  “And do you have any films you can show us as proof?” Mr. Dashing asked Sebastian.

  “No,” replied Sebastian, his eyes now trying to compensate for his forgetfulness by starting to water.

  “What my fellow kid stunt-car driver means is that we don’t have any finished films, no,” added Evie quickly. When Mr. Dashing turned to look at her, Sebastian suddenly remembered and blinked hard. Or, well, it was more like he closed his eyes for a moment, which is just an intensely long blink, when you think about it.

  The door opened then, and Ms. Velos entered and sat down next to Mr. Dashing. In what was evidently a tall wingback chair with high armrests. Or she was sitting on a stool and holding her back very straight and her arms up at ninety-degree angles for some reason.

  “Ah, Ms. Velos. I need your help. They have no paperwork and no proof that they are stunt-car drivers. It’s all so much, I think we should send them home,” said Mr. Dashing, turning to her.

  “Hmm,” said Ms. Velos, now resting her elbow on the armrest and her chin in her hand. “That is a puzzle.”

  The two drivers sat considering what to do, and Sebastian took a moment to look at Evie, who rolled her eyes back at him. Sebastian glanced at the drivers, fearful that they’d noticed her disdain, but they were both still thinking.

  And thinking.

  Sebastian blinked intensely again.

  “I have it!” said Ms. Velos. “It’s so simple. Let them drive!”

  “Let them…,” said Sebastian, slowly opening his eyes their widest.

  “Not the race car track, obviously,” she said. “I don’t care what is legal or not. They are children. But the go-kart track. Should be a piece of cake for a real driver.” She said it in a way that implied she still didn’t fully believe they were on the level. Which they weren’t, so Sebastian didn’t blame her for thinking it.

  There was a pause.

  “Sure!” said Evie loudly, jumping to her feet. “But I mean, surely one of us is proof enough, though. Let’s not waste time here. I’ll do it!” It was a rush of words that did not make Sebastian feel any better. He turned and gaped at her as she smiled a hard smile, her teeth a bit too exposed, almost like she was baring them in a snarl.

  Mr. Dashing nodded. “Very well. Let’s get you suited up!”

  “Great!” said Evie, still smile-grimacing.

  Oh, Evie, thought Sebastian, rising slowly, what have you done?

  *1 Not to be mistaken for the Stunt Racing Association of Cars, which is a totally different thing and has a very different kind of membership. And even more exclusive…stupid four-wheels policy.

  *2 Except for the non-visible ones, but no one knows where they are or that they exist, so it’s not really a thing.

  Evie could hear the sound of her own breathing magnified within the helmet. It sounded very loud. And definitely too fast. She tried to slow it down. She closed her eyes and focused and counted the seconds on her intake of breath. There was a tap on her helmet, and her eyes were wide open again.

  It was Sebastian.

  “Hey,” she said, not sure he could actually hear her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Oh
sure,” she said, her voice squeaking a little. “This pedal makes it go fast. This one stops it. I steer the kart with this. It’s all been adjusted to my height.” She was essentially repeating back what the mechanic had said to her earlier as she’d asked for a refresher on how to work a go-kart.

  “It’s not the same as a regular car, you see,” she’d explained as her fake excuse.

  The mechanic had nodded and shown her what to do. Then, after a pause, had added, pointing toward the track, “It’s a normal oval with four bends.” She’d looked at him and realized maybe he didn’t quite believe her excuse. But he was still kind enough to help her out. She’d smiled. He’d smiled back.

  Now Evie slid into the seat of what to her seemed more like a little open car and less like a kart. “Kart” implied something wooden and homemade. This, she’d been told, was a C5. The fastest go-kart in the world. Which was just dandy, she supposed, but right then she probably would have preferred a nice red wagon or something.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Honestly, me neither,” she replied.

  “I know they said they were timing you, but just remember that safety is the most important thing. Don’t try to prove anything,” he said.

  “Aside from being a stunt-car driver?”

  Sebastian nodded and glanced up over the kart toward the stands. Evie turned her head to follow his gaze. Mr. Dashing, with Wheels in his lap, and Ms. Velos were sitting in the otherwise empty stands, waiting. Such a small audience. But the most intimidating audience in the world. Way more than a thousand people sitting up there.

  No. No, that would have also been pretty intimidating, actually, thought Evie.

  “I had a thought,” said Sebastian, leaning down again.

  “Yes?” Please, all the amazing Sebastian thoughts right now would be more than welcome.