Ted Rhoades struggled to button his rumpled jacket while juggling his briefcase and a laundry bag. "Nickie, have you seen my keys?" he asked the girl.
"Did you check the door, Dad?" She waited for him to answer, then sighed and went back to find the keys dangling from the lock.
"See, I told you she was too young to be his wife," whispered Max to Bird.
"You did it again, Dad!" she chided him. "One day I'll forget to go back and check it, and burglars will come and wipe us out!"
He nodded and turned his worried face to her. "You're right, honey. I've got to be more careful. Like yesterday…it was just dumb luck that I wasn't killed. Such a freak accident…"
"I don't even want to think about it, Dad." Nickie put her arm through her father's and leaned her head on his shoulder.
"It was strange, though, Nickie," he said. "Like a cartoon, you know? I'm walking along and I hear a whoosh…"
"A whoosh?"
"Yeah, and the next thing I hear is the crash. It just missed me. Piano keys all over the sidewalk…"
"You've got to be alert, Dad. I think you're working too hard. Too many late nights."
"I always imagined it would sound sort of musical when it dropped, but no, it was just a regular-sounding crash…"
The elevator doors opened and the two entered. Nickie waited for her father to push the button, then sighed and pushed it herself. The doors closed.
"Run!" said Max. "Don't lose them!"
Chapter 7
Max sprinted for the stairwell, Bird scuttling after him. "And get out the Bugger!" Max ordered. Max sprang from the landings onto the banisters and slid down each floor. Bird cast his long legs down the staircase, touching only every fourth step. As he ran, Bird yanked the triangular, yellow fabric Bugger from his back pocket and jiggled out the wires for the dual earpods. He reached the window of the ground level stairwell door and peered out a second before Max breathlessly reached him.
"Did we miss them?" whispered Max.
The elevator doors opened and Ted and Nickie strolled out.
"Nope, let's go!" said Bird.
They waited until the father and daughter exited, then dashed after them into the street crowd.
"Hey, you!" yelled the doorman.
They didn't wait to answer him, but wove their way through the river of citizens until they were within twenty yards of Nickie and Ted.
"Give me the Bugger," said Max.
"I've almost got them," said Bird, putting the earpod in and directing the Bugger in Ted and Nickie's direction.
"I said, give ME the Bugger!" Max grabbed the device, nearly tearing the pod out of Bird's ear.
"Okay, okay! Gnartz! I'm just trying to help!" said Bird.
"Just remember who's in charge!" said Max. Bird walked silently next to Max and watched him attach an earpod. He rubbed his sore ear and Max immediately felt like a bully.
"Look, Bird, I'm sorry, it's just that only one of us can be in charge. And that someone has to be me. Okay?"
"Okay, Max. I understand. Now let me get them into range!" He snatched the Bugger from Max's hands and aimed it, putting the other dangling earpod in his own ear.
"I give up," sighed Max, as Nickie's voice cracked into his earpod.
"Dad, did you take the vitamins in that little packet I laid out next to your breakfast? It's a supplement for stress."
"Honey, stop mothering me! I'm fine – I thrive on stress!" he said, spreading his arms wide in an expansive gesture. Nickie looked down at his fly.
"XYZ, Dad!" she said.
"Huh?" He glanced down and zipped up. "Oh, thanks, honey."
Bird burst into laughter and Max elbowed him.
"Well, you can take them with your dinner," Nickie said.
"What? Oh, the vita…well, I won't be home for dinner tonight," said Ted.
"Again? Okay, maybe I'll stay late, too, and keep you company."
"No, no, you go on home. Why don't you call Jen and the two of you can go to a movie or something?"
"Jen's in Maine for the summer, remember?" said Nickie.
"Oh, right. Well, another of your friends, then."
"What other friends?" she muttered.
"I know it's hard, Nickie. Leaving Denver wasn't easy for me, either. But you'll make new friends soon, honey. As soon as school starts again."
"Yeah, right."
"And you can still go join Jen. I'll bet the offer to spend summer with her family still holds."
"I'm sure I'd leave you at the busiest time of the year, Dad! Give me a little credit!"
Nickie and Ted waited in silence for a red light so Bird and Max waited in front of a boarded-up nightclub ten yards from the corner. A passing cop eyed the two detectives curiously. He stared from the earpods attached to the yellow fabric triangle they held between them, and frowned. Bird smiled at the cop, nodded his head and snapped his fingers in time to an imaginary tune. The light turned green, Nickie and Ted crossed the street, and the two detectives left the cop, shaking his head, behind.
Ted and Nickie walked in silence past a copy shop, an Oriental carpet showroom, an optometrist's office, and a store that sold just pencils.
"'Get the Lead Out'," said Bird, reading the neon sign over the door. "Boy, people sure specialized in the 2000s!"
"Quiet!" said Max.
Just then, Ted put his arm around Nickie's shoulder and said, "You know, I really do appreciate your being here. I don't know what I'd do without you. You help out at home, you help out at work…"
"Speaking of work, Dad, there's a problem I've been having. Nobody knows what my job is. Even me. If I just had a title…"
"After the time capsule ceremony we'll map out your duties, Nickie. Maybe something in personnel."
"Gloria takes care of that," said Nickie.
"Well then, quality control."
"Powers handles that. You know what I mean though, a title like Director of - Something. Anything," she said.
"I promise we'll take care of it as soon as the ceremony's over. Until then, you handle the shopping for the time capsule and be the Director of Shopping. How's that for a title?"
"Nickie Rhoades, Director of Shopping. Well, I was hoping for something, you know, more like, Nickie Rhoades, Acquisitions Director. So when I answer the phone it's not just, Hello, Nickie Rhoades, I Shop."
They stopped at a corner and the two detectives hid behind a bin of watermelons outside a bodega. Ted gave Nickie a quick kiss on the forehead.
"We'll fix it, I promise," Ted said. "But right now I have to drop off my laundry. You go on to the office and tell Powers I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Okay, Dad. I love you."
"I love you, too, honey. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Me either," she said, but he'd already walked away.
Max gave Bird a light shove. "They're splitting up. Get ready. You take Ted, I'll tail Nickie," he ordered.
"Righty-oh, Boss," said Bird. He leaned against a vegetable bin and watched Ted go to the curb and wait for the light to change.
Nickie watched her father, too. Then, she pulled a small red phone out of her briefcase and tapped something into it.
"What's she writing?" asked Bird.
"I'm not a mind-reader, Bird," said Max.
"Sorry, I thought you'd gotten the zoon-vision option with those infochips."
"No, my Grandma-" He was interrupted by Nickie grumbling into her phone. "Nickie Rhoades, Director of Haircut Reminders."
"Very, very specialized," murmured Bird.
"Shhhh! Hurry up, there goes Ted!" He gently pulled the earpod from Bird's ear.
Ted stepped off the curb and tripped, dropped his laundry, and missed the green light. Bird smiled. "Looks like I'm gonna be here a while."
Nickie put her phone away and moved on. Max crept past a churro cart, then pretended to look in the Apple Store window next door to the boutique where Nickie stood.
She considered the dress in the window, then
met her own eyes in the glass. "Hello, Nichole Rhoades, Acquisitions Director," she said to her reflection. Her reflection screwed up its face in consideration, then frowned and shook its head. Max leaned to his right to catch every word.
She tried again. "Hello, Nichole Rhoades, Director or Acquisitions and Antiquities!" she said. This time the reflection smiled and gave her a high-five. Nickie pulled herself to her full five feet, eight inches, held her head straight, and marched down the street.
Max felt a tug on his sleeve. "C'mon, Max, we know she's going to the office, let's trail Ted!" said Bird.
"I'll give the orders if you don't mind!" said Max, running to catch up with the big man. Bird skidded to a stop and the two peered between the painted D and R on the drycleaner's window. Ted picked up his laundry from the counter, paid the clerk, and left.
"I figure Ted's our victim, so we should follow him and see what happens," said Bird, coasting along behind Ted.
"Yeah, well, Ted might not be the victim, you know," said Max. "He might even be the murderer. You take too much for granted. That's why I'm here to give the orders."
"Oh, right, Max. Absolutely," smiled Bird.
They waited three or four people behind Ted at the crowded crosswalk. Ted shifted his laundry package and smiled at the sweet-faced old lady and the uniformed Boy Scout who waited on either side of him. The light turned green and the three stepped off the curb. Suddenly, a battered pick-up truck raced into the intersection, brakes squealing and barreling toward the three frozen figures.
"Look ou-" Bird clapped a hand over Max's mouth.
The old lady sprang into life and pushed the Boy Scout and Ted out of the way before leaping to safety herself.
The pick-up truck screeched around the corner on two wheels. Max caught a fleeting glimpse of the driver clenching the steering wheel in a death grip and of the passenger thrown like a bag of bones against the passenger door.
"Slow down, you clown!" hollered the old lady.
Max ran into the street after the speeding truck. A school bus abruptly pulled into the lane and the truck slammed into its rear end. The driver exploded from the truck, yanked down the rainbow-colored wig on his head and slammed the car door on his hand.
His "Yeeeooowww!" echoed up the block and Max gave chase. He was starting to gain on the driver when he jerked up short, his feet scrambling a foot above the sidewalk. It took him a second before he realized what had happened.
"Bird! Put me down!"
"Sorry, Max," said Bird, releasing the boy's shirt collar. "But I think you forgot the Policy of Non-Involvement for a minute there."
Max bent his head and grimaced. "Ohhh, gnartz, I blew it!" he groaned. "I actually warned Ted!"
"Don't feel bad, Max. It's just a natural reaction," soothed Bird. "Look, we can catch up."
The detectives joined the morning rush of pedestrians who threw curious glances to the three casualties sprawled on the pavement. The good citizens of New York allowed them the space they needed to rise and brush themselves off.
"You alright, son?" asked the old lady.
"Yes, I think so," said Ted. "Oh, you mean the boy…right. Are you okay, fella?"
"Yeah, I'm okay!" He pushed Ted aside to yell at the old lady. "Hey, who do you think you are? You're supposed to let me do the saving! You know how long I've waited for a chance like this? You just ruined the opportunity of a lifetime!"
"Forgive me for saving your miserable little hide!" she said.
Ted backed away into a filthy brick wall plastered with a rain-stained billboard. He read the ad for an insurance company: "You Are Out in the World and Anything Can Happen." Ted nodded and reentered the stream of movement on the sidewalks of New York, followed by two of New York's Finest.
Chapter 8
Max and Bird trailed Ted to a crumbling brick building. As Ted entered, Max checked the directory next to the doorway: Rhoades Through Time, Inc., Second Floor.
"This must be the place," he said.
Unexpectedly, Ted reappeared, passed them, and headed for the street again. Max turned and was about to follow when Bird stopped him. "Hold it, Max. He may suspect we're trailing him."
They watched Ted from the shadows of the doorway. Ted backtracked up the block to a hotdog stand.
"Well, if the murderer doesn't kill him, his diet will," said Bird. "Do you know what they used to put in hot dogs, Max? Meat!"
"Come on, Bird." Max started after Ted.
"He's just having breakfast, Max!" said Bird. "Let's go up and check out the office!" And without waiting for further orders, he was off.
"Bird!"
Max caught up with him just inside the pair of etched glass doors in the entryway of Rhoades Through Time, Inc. Their arrival caught Nickie's eye and she spun around from a large, canvas mailbag at the entrance.
"What do you want?" she demanded, clutching a handful of letters to her chest.
"We didn't mean to frighten you," said the Indian.
"That's okay, I just didn't hear you come in," she said, taking a deep breath. She stepped back, then gave a quick head-to-toe inspection of the big, burly, tanned Indian and the little kid dressed for Woodstock.
"Uh, if you're looking for the costume shop, it's down the street," she said.
"We're looking for the Rhoades Through Time company," said Bird. Max took the big man by the arm and roughly drew him aside. The two had a short, intense conference.
"Don't forget who's in charge!" hissed Max.
"I'm only trying to help," whispered Bird.
They both paused to smile reassuringly at Nickie, who pulled out her phone and seemed ready to call 911 at any second.
"Just keep quiet!" snapped Max, completing the conference. He let go of the Indian, pulled at the waist of his own hiphugger pants, and turned back to Nickie. "We were sent by the agency. They said you needed assistants for some special project?"
"Yes, we do have a celebration coming up but I'm in charge and nobody told me-"
"And you are?" interrupted Bird. Max shot him an exasperated look.
"Oh, sorry, I'm Nickie, that is, Nichole Rhoades, Director of Acquisitions and Antiquities."
"Very impressive," said Bird.
"My dad and his partner own Rhoades Through Time," she said.
"A pleasure to meet you," said Max with his most grown-up manner. "I'm Max Livingstone and this is John Look-For-A-Bird, my…uh, guardian." Bird grinned with delight and hooked his arm around Max's shoulders.
"My ward here and I are looking for summer employment, ma'am," said Bird. He bent down conspiratorially to her. "Something to keep the lad off the streets, you understand."
Max squirmed out of Bird's hold. "So, who do we talk to? You? Or to Personnel?"
"Personnel's not here now…but yeah, I should be able to hire my own assistants," Nickie said. "I mean, I am the one in charge of this project, right?"
The two visitors bobbed their heads in agreement.
"Okay, then, I WILL hire my own assistants!" she said, straightening a full six inches over Max's head. "Come right this way." Max liked the way she set her chin so determinedly.
She led them through the labyrinth of empty cubicles arranged in the large, bright room lit by banks of florescent lights. The two paused under the dusty, cobweb-covered, six-foot long, paper mache model of a red rat dangling from the ceiling.
"Uh, just ignore that," said Nickie, coloring slightly. "This used to be an exterminator's office. My dad hasn't gotten around to taking it down yet."
"Whoa, nightmare piñata!" said Bird. He reached up and batted at a wire whisker jutting from the vermin's nose.
"Yeah it is, but at least this place never has mice," said Nickie.
"I'll bet it keeps the stray cats away, too," said Bird, following Max into Nickie's cubicle.
Nickie set an employee form and a pen on the desk in front of each of the detectives. Max filled out his form. Bird played with his pen and studied the posters of Kenya, Machu Picchu, Egypt and A
ngkor Wat that camouflaged the steel grey walls of the cubicle. He picked up a finger-smudged brochure for the American University of Rome from the corner of the desk.
"'One of the finest undergraduate archeology programs in the world'," he read aloud. "'The course of study offers hands-on experience and field excursions to archeological sites supervised by internationally-recognized leaders.' Cool. You going to be an archeologist?"
Nickie snatched the brochure out of Bird's hand. "Not really. I'm going to NYU and major in business."
"Ah…well, that's fascinating, too," he said unconvincingly.
"So about our jobs," interrupted Max. "You are looking for…?"
"Uhm, let's see. I could use, uh, shoppers?" she said.
"What luck!" said Max. "Mr. Bird and I were once assistants to the head buyer-"
"For the summer - while the lad was out of school, you see," said Bird.
"For Stellar's Department Store in-"
"Have you ever been to Tokyo?" asked Bird.
"Never," Nickie said.
"What a shame!" said Max. "If you had, you'd be very familiar with our skills. Now what kind of shopping do you need? Office furniture, electronics-"
"Groceries?" asked Bird.
Nickie laughed. An easy, nothing-held-back kind of laugh, thought Max.
"I need shoppers for a bit of everything," she said, picking up a sealed, clear plastic cylinder from her desk. "I guess you know we make these personalized time capsules. People put keepsakes into them to commemorate a special event. A wedding, a graduation, the birth of a baby – that kind of thing."
She handed the cylinder to Bird.
"Ingenious," he said, unscrewing one end and tapping on the clear sides of the tube. "What are they made of?"
"Plastic," said Nickie.
"Plastic!" said Bird with glee. He slapped Max on the back. "Plastic! Are there more? These things must be worth a fortune!" Nickie stared as the big man unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled the smooth tube up and down his bare brown arm.
Max pushed him aside. "What he means is, this product must be a big seller."
"Yeah, it is. In fact, that's why we're having the capsule ceremony – to celebrate our millionth sale. We're going to use a vault in the basement as a giant time capsule and seal it up for a hundred years," she said.
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