by Thomas Babak
Travis was well on his way to creeping out a shapely yoga-pants-clad mom that he was staring at when his phone rang.
The caller ID showed Jenkins was calling.
“Go for Travis,” Travis said manfully.
“Uh…yeah. This is Jenkins,” he said hesitantly.
Travis smiled and said “Yeah Jenkins, what do you got?”
“I’ve sent the details to your Cloud account but we’ve identified the type of van. The flying van. You know the…”
“Got it. You ID’d the van” Travis said cutting him off.
“Uh…yeah,” Jenkins said.
“Give me the summary,” Travis demanded.
“We were able to create a composite from the video and from that identified that the van is a Dodge Xplorer, spelled X.P.L.O.R.E.R, manufactured between 1968 and 1971. There were 497 known to be registered in Minnesota since 1968.”
“So we have five hundred vans to find?” Travis asked, his voice rising at the thought of the work he and the FBI agents he was tasking would have to do.
“Um…no. We were able to eliminate 192 of them that were re-registered in other states but they remain on the secondary list. Both of lists are in your Cloud account.” Jenkins was referencing the secure, encrypted workspace they used for sharing information over the Internet for the second time. Shared resources on the encrypted workspace had devolved to being called just the “Cloud” within the OCC.
“Okay. Anything else?” Travis asked.
“Um…no,” Jenkins answered and was about to ask Travis how it was going but Travis had already hung up.
Travis finished his cone and got up from the picnic table and headed towards the car. As he passed one mom and tossed out the napkin he’d been using, she pulled her child closer to her. Travis walked up to the FBI agents car and stood next the passenger window. The agent didn’t want to roll down the window, but after a few seconds, Travis leaned down and knocked on the glass and so the agent hit the power switch. The agent didn’t say anything. He just waited for Travis to speak.
“I’ve got a list of vehicles for you to check out,” Travis said.
The agents just stared at him. They were used to Travis giving them orders but still didn’t like it. They were professionals and he…wasn’t.
“I’ll meet you back at the office later. It’ll be waiting there for you,” he said.
The agent didn’t say anything but nodded and the window rolled up and they left.
The agent driving said “Creep,” to the other who nodded again in agreement.
Travis smiled and laughed as they left and said out loud to himself, “Those guys crack me up.”
His phone rang again.
The smile left Travis’s face. It was his boss, Deputy Undersecretary Phillips.
“Travis here,” he said answering his phone and without realizing it, standing up straighter, almost at attention.
“Status?” was all that Kate said. She didn’t like talking to Travis more than she had to, either.
“Just a few more details from the Park incident. Those have been updated to the Cloud,” Travis answered.
“Anything else?” Kate asked.
“Jenkins just sent the list of vans to me. I’m tasking the FBI who will probably leverage local law enforcement,” he answered.
“I know that. Anything else?” she repeated.
Travis hesitated a second or two and said “No, ma’am.”
He waited a few more seconds when there had been no response from Kate and said “Ma’am?” He looked at his phone. She had hung up.
Travis put his phone away, his good mood suddenly gone. He’d walk a little while before catching a ride back to the offices they had taken over to find and acquire the “Flying Van.” While walking, scowling still from the perceived disrespect he felt he’d received from Kate, he decided he’d ride the FBI agents hard to find the van. Then he’d get to bring in his Tactical team. He’d maybe get to kick some ass. This last thought made him smile again.
Twenty-Two
School went quickly that Friday for Sandy. It was obvious to the other students that he and Tasha were a couple now. The odd talk and glances that both he and Tasha, more so Tasha, had received over the previous week were dying down. Seeing them together coming to and leaving school and spending lunch together had become the new normal to everyone.
The other kids looks and talk didn’t affect Sandy that much. Having no close friends and keeping to himself over the past few years had made him oblivious. Tasha missed some of her “popular kids” friends initially but even that had faded quickly. She had initially told herself that they weren’t that important, but she grew to actually believe it over the next several weeks.
A comfortable routine had evolved between them. After school, Sandy would drop Tasha at home and then head to the Yard. He’d work until closing, head home, have dinner with Tasha and then they’d go to bed, separately, and then repeat.
He’d done very little on the Bubble Tech during the past week. There had actually been quite a bit of Yard business. Now that spring was in full swing, many people were looking for parts online so that they could get their vehicles up and running. There had been a ton of orders that Sandy had to process. With each order, he examined every part to make doubly sure it was still functional and clean. Then he’d wrap them in bubble wrap, tape and pack them and create and print shipping labels. When he wasn’t doing that, he spent time pulling parts from junked vehicles and shelving them after making sure he entered them into the inventory software he’d installed. He didn’t want the shelves to get bare because the money rolling in.
He was sitting at the office counter entering parts into inventory and reading from the pad onto which he’d written notes about year, make and model when Mr. Bullock came in.
“Hi Mr. Bullock,” Sandy said, looking up and smiling.
“Son, you’re looking pretty pleased about things,” he said as he looked into Sandy’s happy, smiling face. Sometimes you don’t notice when someone’s having a hard time until the trouble is over. Their face, and even their whole body relaxes and clears, he thought to himself.
“Lots of business. We’re making a killing right now!” Sandy said enthusiastically.
“That sounds good, son. Got to enjoy it too though,” Mr. Bullock said.
Sandy’s smile didn’t dim but he knitted his brows a little in confusion. He didn’t quite understand what Mr. Bullock said.
“You’ve got to enjoy what you do. Sometimes when you do what you love the money comes. You also have to take time off once in a while to enjoy yourself too. Don’t you have some young lady that you should be spending some time with?”
“Uh…yes…Tasha,” Sandy answered, the smile getting even bigger on his face.
Mr. Bullock laughed and said, “I’ll close up. Why don’t you head out early. I got it.” Mr. Bullock walked around the counter and put his hand on Sandy’s chair.
Sandy jumped up. While standing, he saved what he had been working on and logged off. He’d finish it tomorrow. It wasn’t something Mr. Bullock could work on anyway. He’d probably delete the entire inventory by accident and not even realize it.
“Are you sure Mr. Bullock?” Sandy asked after the few seconds it took him to save and close the inventory program.
“I got it, I said,” Mr. Bullock responded a little grumpily, sitting down in the now vacant chair. He promptly laced his fingers together and laid them on the counter primly.
Sandy grabbed his backpack from under the counter and called out, “Thanks, Mr. Bullock. Bye!” receiving a wave in return. Mr. Bullock promptly launched a Solitaire game and began to play.
Leaving the Yard early had caused Sandy to be where he’d rarely been before: Sitting on the couch with time on his hands. He thought about going upstairs to get his book and maybe do some reading. Instead, he picked up the remote and turned on the TV. After a few minutes, he settled on a documentary about a Civil War ship and promptly lost trac
k of time.
When the hour grew close to dinnertime, Tasha came in from the kitchen where she had been doing homework and stood behind the couch and put both her hands on his shoulders, leaning over. “What should we do for dinner?”
“I was thinking of spaghetti,” Sandy answered looking up and back at her.
“I’ll make it,” she said and promptly and headed to the kitchen after briefly giving his shoulders a squeeze.
Sandy shut the TV off and went to help, but Tasha sent him back to the couch. She wanted to make him dinner. It felt different, but very good, to have someone do something for him. Sandy wasn’t used to that. It actually felt really, really good.
Later, when dinner was finished and the kitchen was cleaned, they sat on the couch. Tasha said “I’m going to bed.”
Sandy looked at his watch and then the clock on his laptop, surprised because it was only 9:30. Sandy was working on his laptop because Tasha was watching one of her shows and it just held no interest for Sandy. However, he just loved being around her, so he sat and worked while she watched TV.
“Okay,” he said as he closed the laptop lid. Tasha shut the TV and Sandy began shutting off lights starting with the kitchen and checking the doors to make sure they were locked. While he did this, Tasha headed upstairs.
Tasha was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. He changed into his sweat pants and his Pink Floyd T-shirt, then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. While he was putting toothpaste on his brush, Tasha finished up and walked out of the bathroom without saying anything.
Sandy soon heard her bedroom door close but then open again. He finished up and slowly walked out of the bathroom and stopped, looking down the hallway at her bedroom door, a little puzzled that she hadn’t said good night. The door was slightly ajar. Had he done or said something wrong? He couldn’t think of anything, so headed to bed himself.
In his room he got into his bed and hesitated for a few seconds before picking up a book and reading. He hesitated because he could have went to her door and said goodnight himself but hadn’t. Maybe I should have, he thought. Too late now. It would just be weird now. Decision made, Sandy read for about 20 minutes before placing his book back on the nightstand and shutting his light. He laid there for a few minutes in the dark before he heard Tasha call “Sandy.”
Sandy immediately got out of bed and padded down the hallway stopping at her door and knocking lightly.
“Tasha?” he called softly.
“Tasha?” he called more loudly while knocking.
“Are you okay?” he called more softly.
There was still no response so he tentatively opened the door and peeked in.
The bedside lamp was on and Tasha was lying in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin. Her hair that she had worn all day in a ponytail was loose and spread over her pillow, blonde highlights shining from the lamplight.
“Can you sleep with me tonight?” she asked quietly.
“Sure,” Sandy said coming all the way into the room and closing the door. She wasn’t mad. Just a little creeped out or scared for some reason he thought. I should have said goodnight earlier instead of wimping out, he thought.
As he came to the side of the bed, Tasha lifted the covers back for him to get in. Sandy saw a flash of thigh as the T-shirt she was wearing rode up. She wasn’t wearing her satin shorts that she used as pajamas, Sandy realized.
He got in quickly, a split second vision of red lace still etched in his mind. He lay with his back to her. After a few seconds, he reached up and closed the lights.
He lay there stiffly, afraid to breathe and paralyzed with nerves and excitement.
“Oh hell,” he heard Tasha say. She reached over and grabbed his arm, pulling him over so he was lying on his back. She was now leaning partially over him, her eyes locked on his. She slid her bare leg over both of his and leaned in and kissed him lightly on the side of his mouth. They had kissed several times over the past week but this one had been different. It had been amazing. He wanted more.
Sandy, still staring into her eyes, reached up and put his arm around her, his hand flat on her back. His other was pinned up against his side by her warm body. He pulled her lightly forward and kissed her directly on her mouth. The second kiss was even more amazing.
Tasha slid completely over on top of him bringing her knees up and straddling him, freeing his other arm which he brought up to her back as well. He slid both hands down to her hips.
Tasha’s head leaned back slightly. For a second, their eyes locked onto each other and then she leaned forward her mouth pressing onto his as her eyes closed.
Her lips parted and her tongue darted into his mouth, surprising him for a second before he relaxed and kissed her back deeply, feeling her breasts push against his chest through the thin cloth of their T-shirts.
After a few minutes, Tasha broke her lips loose from his and leaned back. She raised up on her knees and grabbed the waistband of Sandy’s sweats and started to pull them down.
Sandy took his hands off her hips and grabbed hers lightly as he said, “You sure?” gently.
Tasha smiled at him and continued to pull his sweats down, Sandy raising his hips off the bed to help her.
They didn’t talk for the next two hours. At first Tasha giggling at Sandy’s initial awkwardness and then moaning at his quickly found expertise.
They fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Waking the next morning, Sandy didn’t feel awkward at all. He thought he would be as he lay there and she still slept but as she woke up and turned to him it felt… natural. It felt right and good. He kissed her in her sleep several times until she woke up and gave him several back.
He couldn’t help but smile as they both got up and got ready for school. They were comfortable in each other’s presence as they passed each other in the hallway, took showers and got dressed.
At one point, Tasha laughed at him when she caught him staring at her in the kitchen, a stupid happy smile plastered on his face. She was getting a cup of coffee from the machine they had bought together earlier when she caught him staring again. She walked over to the table, set her cup of coffee on it and slid onto his lap.
It felt great to Sandy. It felt normal.
“You seem happy,” Tasha said teasingly as she sat there on his lap and reached over to grab her coffee.
“Umm. Yeah!” Sandy said enthusiastically.
Tasha laughed briefly, took a sip of her coffee and said, “Took you long enough,” mockingly.
Sandy just laughed as Tasha got up and sat down in her chair and started to eat her cereal. She looked up at Sandy.
He was still smiling goofily and staring at her.
“Eat!” she said loudly with a smile as she caught him at it. Sandy hastily picked up a spoon and began eating. He soon found himself staring at her again.
Sandy was happier than he’d could ever remember, maybe the happiest he’d ever been in his life. He was with the girl of his dreams, he had no worries about being a minor on his own and enough money to pay the bills.
Sandy was happy and knew he could now start thinking about the future. A future with Tasha and plenty of time to work on the Bubble Tech.
Twenty-Three
The next week was an extension of Sandy’s best week ever. School flew by as they approached spring break, which was only a week away. Mr. Bullock showed up more often at the Yard and Sandy actually had some success showing him how to use a computer. Mr. Bullock mostly played games but would do something productive once in a while. However, Sandy was no nearer to figuring out how to keep Bubble Tech safe and secure from misuse if (and when) it ever was introduced to the world in general. Most days, Mr. Bullock forced Sandy to leave early so he could be home for dinner. With Tasha. Sandy still couldn’t believe that the girl he had loved for so long was living with him. That they were together. It was inconceivable just a month ago.
On a Friday after he’d finished school and clocked a couple hours at the Ya
rd, Sandy went home and outside to rake a few leaves in his own yard. Spending more time at the house allowed him to fix and clean more things than he normally had over the last few years. That is, when he wasn’t spending his time with Tasha.
He had made a small pile of leaves when out of nowhere, a sudden panicked thought exploded in his head. He and Tasha had been together every night since that first night. That first wonderful night. That night, and every night since, they had slept in their room. The room that had been Grandma’s and was now theirs. They had been together passionately quite a few days too when the mood struck.
Sandy dropped the rake and ran to the back door, jerking it open. He was about to call out for her, but saw that she was sitting on the couch reading. Sandy had a wide range of books, mostly in his room, but also in several stacks here and there. His collection included everything from science to historical and military fiction to popular bestsellers. She hated every book he recommended to her. She picked others that he hadn’t liked that much and had read them cover to cover. They had different tastes, but Sandy didn’t think that was a bad thing.
“Close the door. Mosquitoes!” Tasha called out, twisting around and glancing up over her shoulder. In true Minnesota fashion, now that Spring was here, they were out in force and biting anything that moved.
While still looking at Tasha, Sandy reached behind and closed the door.
Tasha started to look back down at her book but then took a second glance at Sandy and the expression on his face. Concern and panic started to spread across hers.
“Sandy…what’s wrong?” she asked fearfully, putting the book down and standing up.
Sandy walked slowly, hesitantly to the living room and around the couch to stand in front of her. To face her.