Max left the bathroom without giving him the satisfaction of a reply.
"Don't forget to meditate on the dog for twenty minutes," called Bird.
"My dog's chasing a rabbit," mumbled Max, pulling on his pajamas.
"Ask the dog to take you to your Medicine Man. You'll know him by his decorations; a fur hat with feathers at the back of the neck…"
Max climbed into bed, closed his eyes and meditated on the back of Nickie's neck.
"With a small, whole dead bird attached to the side, a necklace of beads, bone and teeth…"
Max thought of Nickie's even white teeth shining back at him from the darkness of the movie theater.
"With six large dots painted on the cheeks and crescent moons on the chin and forehead…"
Max remembered how the moon had shone on her face as they sat on the roof of the theater. And how she laughed when they sent the folded paper airplane fliers sailing.
"PPPPbbbbhhhh!" howled Bluebell.
"What's up with her now, Bird?"
"Go back to sleep, Max. She always cries at weddings."
Max slipped his arm under his pillow and dreamed of Nickie's warm arm on the theater armrest.
Chapter 19
Planetary Earth Date: 20.7.2015
"Just one more time, tell me one more time," urged Bird. He rolled Max's chair around to face him.
"Bird, lay off! I've told you about the dream at least fifty times today and it's not even noon yet!" Max turned his back to his partner and concentrated on the work on his desk.
"But this could be important. Now, the dog took you out of the storm, right?"
"No! For the last time, the dog dragged me from my tepee INTO the thunder storm," said Max.
"Did you see anyone else, or anything else - something with wings, maybe? There's something we call the Thunder Being and even if you don't see wings-"
"Bird, give me a break! Look, we need to get down to business. Like checking out those account books."
"Okay, Max. Don't worry about things up here. You can count on me."
Max ignored that. "If Nickie comes looking for me, tell her I'm on a break and I'll meet her for lunch later."
As he left, Bird called after him, "That would be a personally Non-Involved lunch, of course!"
As he went downstairs, Max made a mental list of all the things he hated about Bird. Number one: doesn't follow orders. Number two: teases unmercifully. Number three: secretive – no, secretive should be number one. But not anymore, he smiled slyly. Thanks to the elec-tail sensor I attached to Bird's shirt collar this morning, he thought. That'll teach him to hog time in the shower. The thought of turning the tables on Bird gave Max immediate satisfaction. He walked to the Records Room door with a light step.
The door was locked but he didn't need a key as long as nobody came by. Mr. Louis had taught him how to pick a simple door lock like this by the time he was ten years old. A deed Grandma had punished them both for, when she found it was impossible to keep Max locked in his room during a time-out.
Max pulled a paper clip from his pocket, unbent it slightly, and jangled it into the lock. He jiggled the wire up just a fraction until, yes! It tumbled with a quiet, metallic click.
Once inside he turned on the light and quickly scanned the front labels of the rows of file cabinets. He rustled through the drawer marked, BANK ACCOUNTS 14-15 when he heard a step in the hallway. He closed the drawer and leaped to the Supplies side of the room. When Powers and Gloria entered they found him innocently searching the open metal shelving that held reams of paper and office supplies.
Powers tugged at the ace bandage wrapped around his head. "What do you want, kid?"
"Just looking for paper clips, sir. The giant size," said Max.
"They're toward the back," said Gloria. She pointed toward the far wall with a long, bony finger, the light glinting from its flashy diamond ring.
"Thank you, ma'am."
Powers laughed, "Hey, the kid called you 'ma'am'! Imagine that! You – ma'am!"
"I don't see what's so funny, Powers! Some people just recognize a lady, that's all!"
Powers hooted and moved to the file cabinet Max had just rummaged through. Max silently crept to a far corner and watched them through a rack between a stack of copier paper and a pile of pencil boxes. If he just waited long enough and silently enough, they'd forget he was here.
"Which book does the auditor want?" said Gloria.
"January through July 2015," Powers said.
Just the one I'm looking for, thought Max.
Gloria looked over Powers' shoulder and slid a scrawny arm into the drawer shoving him out of the way.
"Easy, Gloria! I'm about ready to heave my ship biscuits." He clutched his bandaged head and moaned slightly.
"That's what you get for playing with goons and losing!" she said callously "But then, you were always a loser, Powers!"
"Oh, yeah?" he whispered. "And have you ever thought about your responsibility for my problems? If you'd just do your job, I wouldn't be in this mess!"
"I'm not the one who screwed up yesterday!" she said.
"Oh, shut up, you seahag!" He riffled through a few files and drew out a large blue account book. "Here it is. Clever of me to ask for an audit. I'll make things clearer after the…keel-haul."
"Well, you'd better make it quick, the IRS won't take long to figure this all out," said Gloria.
"I'm working on it, I'm working on it." He leaned on the open file and bent close to her face. "Let's go to your place for an early lunch."
"Forget it, Powers! " She slammed the file drawer, barely missing his head. "You promised to take me out!"
"C'mon, Gloria! You know my financial situation! Scrape the barnacles off your rudder and throw something together. I'm starved!"
"No way! We're going out! I want to get a decent meal out of this, at least."
"Feminists," muttered Powers, "can't even give a woman a decent order anymore."
"Shut up! Anyway, every time I do cook, you swear I'm poisoning you!"
"Poison…hmmm," he said, trailing her out the door and turning out the light.
Max left the room and pushed the elevator button. Keel-haul, he wondered. He mentally flipped through the pages of his infochip dictionary. H, I, J, K. Kaleidoscope, Karate, Karma-
"Hey, there you are!" said Nickie from the open elevator doors.
Max snapped his synapses shut and smiled at her. She and Bird had a new load of items for the capsule. He joined them and the three spent the next few hours loading the capsule and collapsing and stacking the empty cardboard boxes away from the entrance to the vault.
"Hey, Max, look at this!" Max turned from his neatly piled stack and looked at Bird who proudly motioned to his ten-foot high castle of empty boxes.
"Wow, cool!" said Nickie. And even Max had to agree that the structure was amazing.
"How do you like these turret towers? See, I just folded the flaps up like this!" He swept the air expansively and clipped one corner of the precariously balanced structure.
"Ohh, no," said Nickie, as the castle toppled over Bird's head. "Mr. Bird, are you alright?"
He took her outstretched arm and pulled himself from the wreckage. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, the fan of laugh-lines returning to his eyes. "Let's build another one!"
Nickie laughed. "Maybe later, I still have work to do."
"Me too," said Max, following her to the elevator.
"Mr. Bird is pretty cool, isn't he?" she said.
What can she be thinking? thought Max.
Upstairs, as they rolled the empty cart along the corridor, they neared Ted's office where Powers lectured Ted. "And don't forget the media conference at four bells tomorrow, Ted."
"Uh, four bells, that's four o'clock, right?"
"Two o'clock, Ted. P.M. Everyone knows that."
Bird returned from downstairs and nearly bumped into Gloria as she teetered around the corner. Carrying a plate of cheesecake and a fork, she push
ed past Powers into Ted's office. Max pulled Bird into the cubicle across the hall and Nickie moved closer to the door for a better look.
"Break time, Teddy!" said Gloria.
"What? Oh, sorry, Gloria. You go ahead. I have to prepare for the conference," said Ted.
"Now, now, all work and no play makes Teddy a dull boy!"
Nickie noticed that Powers lingered near Ted's doorway, too. She caught his eye, he saluted her, and cruised away.
"I had no idea boating was such a dangerous sport," mused Bird, noting the bandages peeking out from under Powers' captain's hat.
Nickie silenced him with her hand. Gloria advanced on Ted with the raised fork and a bite of cheesecake.
"I got this just for you, Ted. You don't want to hurt my feelings, do you?" said Gloria.
"Well, no, of course not, but…"
Gloria hovered over Ted and nearly sat in his lap.
"C'mon now, Teddy," said Gloria, "just one bite! For me? It's yummy, see?" She took the bite, swallowed, then realized something and rushed out.
"Gotta go! Uh…calories!" she said.
She ran into Power's office. "Quick! I've only got twenty minutes!" they heard her say.
"Maybe she's anorexic," whispered Bird.
"Blast it, Gloria! That means I'm going to have to pay for a cab!" said Powers.
There was a gurgle, a cry of pain, and the clatter of a fork dropping to the floor.
"Blast!" said Powers, clutching his shoulder and running after Gloria who was doubled-over and bolting for the exit.
"Or maybe bulimic," said Bird.
Nickie didn't stop to give an opinion but wheeled on her heels, shoving the cart out the door and down the hallway. "Teenage angst?" asked Bird. The detectives followed to her cubicle where they found her slumped in her chair.
"She's bringing him dessert now. Did you see how she practically sat on his lap and forced it down his throat?"
"Maybe she's entering it in a Bake-Off," suggested Bird.
Nickie stared at the ceiling. "Max, I've gotta get out of here."
"Okay, where would you like to go?"
"How about Central Park?" said Bird.
"Perfect!" she said.
"Great!" said Bird. "I know this fun game we can play called Coup St-" Behind Nickie's back, Max shook his head at Bird.
"I thought you told me you still had to write those donation thank-you emails, Mr. Bird," said Max.
"Oh, right you are. Completely forgot. You two kids go ahead. I'll put this final load in the vault, too, Nickie," said Bird. "Get the vault all organized and ready to lock up."
"You can do it in the morning, Mr. Bird," said Nickie.
"That's okay, he doesn't mind. We'll see you later, Mr. Bird. Keep an eye on things here, won't you?" Max said pointedly.
"I'm on the job," said Bird.
Max left feeling more confident than he had in days, now that the elec-tail was on the job.
Nickie sat on the grass and pulled off her sandals. Her bare shins peeped out of their pants legs, white and freckled in the bright sunlight. He liked her pale skin and freckles. They reminded him of birdseed sprinkled on the snow. Nickie followed his gaze and folded her arms self-consciously.
"I'm glad you wore pants," said Max.
"What?"
"I thought we could go horseback riding."
"Oh," she said in relief. "No wait, I don't ride!"
"You'll love it, I promise!" He pulled her away.
"No, Max, really! I can't!"
"Trust me!" he said and took her hand.
Ten minutes later they chose their horses and mounted up.
"See, I told you! Nothing to it," said Max, rolling with his horse's rhythm.
"I'm a natural," bragged Nickie, bumping along beside him.
Max swung across the saddle to show her how to hold the reins. "No, like this, in your left hand. You want your right hand free for roping calves," he said.
"Or lions or tigers!" She pointed to the other animals on the carousel.
Max was struck by a wish that he could bottle everything about this moment. The whirl of the horses, Nickie's hair flying in the breeze, and her laughter melting into the calliope music.
They rode three more times before they stopped at a burrito cart and then sat on a bench under the trees. The same bench where he had scared the lovers in the Coup Sticks game. She followed his gaze overhead. "What are you looking for up there?"
"Just checking for Birds."
As they ate, Max marveled at how comfortable the silence was between them. Not like his last date with Infinity Melman. Pretty girl, but never stopped talking. Gnartz, give a guy a chance to think. Nope, Nickie was definitely not Infinity. She was a deep thinker. Like now, just contemplating some great point of philosophy.
She wiped a bit of sauce from her lip. "I was just thinking about those flats we saw in the window at Shoe World. I think I'm going to get them." Well, a girl can't ponder philosophy constantly, he thought.
"You know, when I started at Winslow High last year I wanted this certain pair of flats so much. Everybody had them and I thought they would make me more like everybody else. Popular, you know?"
Max nodded. Just like the iNose Smellcatcher he'd wanted. But Grandma said it was not only ridiculous-looking but it distracted you from where you were walking.
Nickie smiled sadly. "I hated being the new girl. Everyday I went to the library and pretended to study during lunch. I sat in a corner and ate my sandwich behind a giant dictionary. Then one day I looked over and saw Jen eating her lunch behind an atlas. We've been best friends ever since."
That old pang of loneliness surged into Max's chest. Every once in a while the longing for a real friend his own age overcame him.
"Everything is such a popularity contest," Nickie sighed. "I even got bummed out because, even if we did have a house, no one would TP it."
"Teepee?"
"Toilet-paper? A house? You know, kids get together at night and decorate the trees and bushes in front of your house with toilet paper?"
"And this is a good thing?" Maybe it's like strobe-lighting someone's locker, Max thought wistfully. There were still some moments he missed about school.
"Anyway, my dad could see I felt bad about it so he sent me to the store for milk just to get me out of the apartment," she said.
Just like Mr. Louis taking me to Kowkeeper Kountry on my birthday every year while Grandma got the house ready for my surprise party, thought Max.
"And all the way to the store I'm moping about having to always do things for him."
The way I feel when Grandma asks me to stop by Death Row to hand out her business cards, thought Max.
"When I got home I plunked down the milk and went straight to my room," said Nickie. "And you know what? He had TP'd my room!"
"Really?"
"Yeah, toilet paper streaming from ceiling to floor, over my bed, my desk, everywhere. I looked around and there he was, giggling in the doorway."
"Pretty nice," said Max.
"Yeah. The trouble is, I was so touched by it that I…I acted mad. I don't really know why, but I started to tear down the paper, slammed my door…"
Max thought of the time Grandma forbid him to go on an all-night hike at Desolation Tract. He had the money to pay for it himself but she wouldn't give in. So that night he refused to eat his favorite homemade chalk chowder, even though he knew Mr. Louis had slaved over it for hours.
"I never told him how I really felt," said Nickie.
Oh no, thought Max. No tears, Not again. This girl leaks more than any faucet I've ever seen.
"And now I feel like I'm losing him, Max. What should I do?"
As he studied her tear-tracked, freckled little face, something just made him do it. He took her chin in his hand and tipping his head, he gently kissed her.
The wind whistled past his ears as he sailed up and up into the blue. The speed, the rush, the feeling of weightlessness. The stillness in his body as he wat
ched the silent earth drop away from him. He was suspended in that one microsecond when he stopped flying up and just lagged in the air, motionless.
What do you know, he thought, as they parted in pleasure and embarrassment. You don't even have to be bucked from the back of a horse to get this.
Chapter 20
Max would have been happy to spend the rest of the afternoon in the Park with Nickie but she was on a quest for the perfect shoes.
"Tell you what, though," she said. "You can come over for dinner tonight."
"I hope you're a better cook than a horsewoman," he teased.
"Six o'clock, Smartarm," she said. "And don't be late or I'll eat without you."
He watched her walk away, barefoot in the grass, her pretty red hair floating on the breeze. He felt light and free as a – holy cosmos! He'd completely forgotten about Bird! He could be anywhere by now!
Max pulled the elec-tail stylus from his pocket and slid the lever along the shaft to the word, CO-ORDS. The long, narrow display slot blinked the numbers 144, 87. "One-four-four, eight-seven, one-four-four, eight-seven," he mumbled to himself.
He flipped the clasp of the stylus and unfolded it to form a flat screen. He followed the map's 144 coordinate line with one finger and the 87 coordinate line with another until his fingers met. "There he is …at the corner of – hey! He's still in the office. Huh." Max relaxed and strolled back to the office, enjoying the sunshine, the crowded sidewalks and the beauty of New York.
A block from the Rhoades office building he ducked into a convenience store and bought a cherry Slurpee. He dug in his pocket, and when he pulled out a five-dollar bill, the elec-tail tumbled out. He waited for his change and glanced at the display on the stylus. One-four-four, eight-eight. Good, no change. Maybe I can trust that old Bird, after all.
He sucked a long, cool slurp of his drink. One-four-four, eight-eight, one-four-four, eight-eight, he stepped to the beat of the numbers in his head. One-four-four, eight-eight? Wasn't it seven?
Max began to run, checking the stylus coordinates as he neared the office building. One-four-four, eight-nine, one-four-four, nine-zero! He's moving west – or is that north? Max scanned the street, raced around the corner and caught sight of Bird's braided head bobbing above the crowd in the distance.
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