Mom and Dad were planning on having friends over for dinner and if I went back now, I would definitely get roped into helping with the meal. I hopped the bus and took it to Mr. Left's house, where Ms. Higley let me in and chattered at me the whole time that I fed the cats. She had just pulled a pan of cookies out of the oven when Stenway poked his head around the corner. "Ms. Higley? Mr. Left would like to speak with you."
"Oh, dear." She straightened her apron fussily. "Tyler, would you be a dear and watch those for me? Don't let the cats anywhere near the cookies. Thank you, my dear." She bustled off.
Stenway stepped into the kitchen, grinned at me, and popped a cookie into his mouth. Wincing at the heat, he pushed himself up onto the counter. "How is your sister?"
I was very surprised at how quickly Stenway relaxed from his stiff and formal he normally was. "Wow. Why don't you just come right out and say it?"
"You wouldn't give me a straight answer if I tried to sneak it out of you, T.J. You're too smart for that."
"Now you're flattering me." I eyed one of the tortoiseshell cats that was wandering into the kitchen. Sneezy, I think. Ironic.
"But it's true. You don't hold with nonsense."
I nodded. "She's good."
"Glad to hear it." Stenway picked Sneezy up off the counter and let him down onto the floor. "How did she enjoy that Thor comic book?"
"You mean this one?" I pulled it out of my bag. "She knows nothing about superheroes. That was all an act."
"Just because something's true doesn't mean you should say it." Stenway frowned slightly. "You're destroying the illusion."
"You asked.” I bent over to pet Sneezy. “Look, I care about my sister and the… things she’s interested in. I want to know how they affect me."
"Most people are that way. They just aren't as honest as you about it." Stenway slid down from the counter. "Pleasure talking with you, T.J." He turned to look at me as he reached the doorway. "And the next time you bring a boyfriend to check out your place of work, just ring the doorbell. It's far less suspicious that way."
"He's NOT my boyfriend." Stenway's shoulders didn't seem to believe me. I picked Sneezy up and stroked his back furiously. Ms. Higley came back shortly thereafter, telling me to "take another cookie" as a thank-you.
The rest of the day dragged on. So did the rest of the week. Not being able to meet with Chris Blue and the fellows whenever I wanted to was quite frustrating. I never quite had new news, but it helped to hear them talk about theories, even if they did sound a little crazy. I could usually get something useful out of it. I was back to just me and my blue book, again. I didn't count my interactions with Stenway as important, except that he saw Donny and I the other day, but since that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon, it wasn't relevant.
I headed to the library the next Tuesday; I had to do a book report, and I figured it was as good a time as any to look up the Left coat of arms. Sydney went with me, although I suspected that she was meeting up with her girlfriends to gossip. Stenway had stopped in briefly on Monday night, presenting Syd with a Thor comic book, the sequel to the one she had purchased at the drugstore. He winked at me as he gave it to her.
The back corner of the library had some big chairs in a little circle, with puffy footstools. That’s where I was headed, once I found the book I needed for school. I wandered around to the archive row, trying to avoid librarians. I don’t dislike them, exactly, I just want to see if I can find things on my own. Also I don’t like small talk.
I began working on my book report, pausing every so often to poke around for information on coats of arms and town history. It was five-o'clock before I found what I wanted on Mr. Left and his family; an old newspaper clipping actually showed Mr. Left Senior's coat of arms side by side with Mr. Left Junior's. I copied the top row of symbols from both coats down quickly, then found Sydney. Somehow, in the last two hours, she and her friend still hadn't run out of things to talk about.
Later that night, after I was finished with homework, I studied my copy of the coats more closely. Three symbols, in a row. Both coats had two crossed stalks of wheat, and a long-legged bird, but where the Mr. Left Senior coat showed a lion standing on its back feet (“rampant”), Mr. Left Junior’s coat showed a comet. I didn’t know a lot about coats of arms, but a change like this could be important. This was something that Chris Blue and the fellows would want to know about. I wrote up a note and enclosed another copy of the coats of arms, to give to the fellows the next day. I hadn’t made any progress on my father and his research, but that would take time.
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The next day in social studies, however, Ms. Lebkowski made an announcement that simplified things for me.
“Good morning, class! Now, pay attention, I need your help with this. Next week, we are having “bring your parent to class” day. If anyone would like to volunteer to bring a parent, please speak to me at the end of class. We would like to hear about their experiences in the workforce, what their day-to-day looks like, and of course, you all would prefer it if their job was exciting.” She smiled at her students. “Now, we will begin with…”
Something hit me in the back of the head; I reached up and pulled a soggy wad of paper out of my hair. Clive. I turned around to glare at him but he nodded up at Ms. Lebkowski and widened his eyes. I stared back at him. He rolled his eyes and kicked the leg of Donny’s seat. Donny looked up, nodded, and bent back down to his desk. A minute later, a hand reached forward and dropped a note on my desk. I opened it.
Hi T.J. I’m sorry that all the guys are being jerks. Clive thinks you should try to get your Dad in here for that thing that Ms. L. was talking about.
Sincerely, Donny
That was a good thought. At the end of class, I went up to Ms. L. and told her that I would talk to my dad speaking to the class sometime in the next week. I told her that he worked in the lab at the hospital, and was good with kids. She said that she’d like to hear from him and he should call the school before Friday if he was interested. Knowing my father, I figured that I should try to leave a message for him at the hospital. Get him started on it as soon as possible.
On my way out of lunch, I bumped into Clive, and he reared back to bawl me out, but I held out the note that I’d written the night before, and he deflated. “I’ll talk to my dad today.”
“Thanks.” He took the note without looking at me.
After school, I found Sydney and told her about the assignment from Ms. Lebkowski. I wasn’t sure if it would be better to find dad at the hospital, or wait for him to come home, or try to call and leave a message. Sydney was in a good mood, and she suggested that we go down to the hospital together. If we weren’t able to get ahold of him then, we could use our other options later.
We jumped on the bus and rode down to the hospital. It was a beautiful day, the sun was so bright in the sky and I could just barely see my breath as we got off the bus. It was about 3:30 when we reached the hospital, and we went back around to the lab wing, where Mom usually worked at the front desk. Today, though, it seemed that she was back helping in the lab, so we talked to the lady at the desk to see if Dad was available. It seemed unlikely, but the nice desk lady told us she would go and see. We took two slick but also somehow slightly sticky seats in the corner across from the door, and waited.
“I wonder if Stenway ever comes down here.” Sydney sighed and stretched her neck to look all the way around the room.
“And we were doing so well, too.”
“Get over it, T.J. He’s a nice boy and he seems to like me.” She rocked back and crossed her legs at the knee.
I turned away, picking up a physics magazine. A minute later, two young men burst into the room, talking loudly.
“… And I told him that that kind of circuitry would overpower the size of the hardware that he wants. It’s not feasible.”
Sydney turned around to see if either of them was Stenway, then turned back, disappointed. I watched them walk to the desk and lean against it, still talking. “Yes, Simon. That’s the point of this research. It’s not feasible yet.”
“But it’ll take us twenty years to figure out that kind of technology. It’s not feasible for this project.” The man tapped his wallet against the desk. “Where is she? We need to get back there and clock in.”
“Calm down, I’m sure she’ll be back in a minute.” The two men fell silent.
Finally, the dark haired one, Simon, couldn’t stand it anymore. “This is taking too long. We’re authorized. Let’s just head back there. Come on.” He fitted a key into the door to the lab, and the two of them entered. I started to stand up, but Sydney pushed me back into my seat.
“No, T.J. You can’t go back there.” The door clicked shut and I slumped back.
We waited for another ten minutes until the desk lady came back, brushing flecks of something white and flaky out of her hair. She told us that “unfortunately, Dr. Kelly is busy right now but if you’d like to leave a message, I can deliver it to him as soon as he is available.”
Sydney grabbed her purse and stood up. “Please tell him that his daughters called with a question regarding their schoolwork. Thank you. Come on, Tyler.” She tugged me out of the building, paused, and looked back. “You know, that was the first time that I’ve been to Mom and Dad’s place of work. How strange is that?”
I talked with Dad that night, and he agreed to call Ms. Lebkowski the next day and talk to her about speaking at school the next week. Just before bed, I crawled under my bed and pulled out my Super book, drawing the coat of arms inside. I also wrote out a note to the fellows, again, telling them what I’d heard in the lab waiting room.
It really was frustrating, not being able to talk to them. They were right, my imagination was not as active as theirs were, so when I was presented with information, I took it at face value. I also didn’t know what would interest them, it was like trying to punch something, but doing it blindfolded. I wrote down what I could remember from the men’s conversation, then added that my father was in contact with Ms. L about speaking. With all the work I’d done lately, I figured I was pretty close to being off of probation. I hoped, anyway. There was a lot of information in the note I slipped inside a school book, and I was pretty sure that if my Dad did end up talking next week, they’d finally let me talk to them again. Thankfully. I slept better that night than I had in a while.