Ashley pushed the button to answer the phone as she accelerated for the yellow light and banked around a corner. “What’s up Austin?”
“Truck’s dead.”
“I can’t hear you Austin, the windows are all down. It sounded like you said your truck is a jenky-ass piece of shit.”
“It’s with Jeremiah.”
“You should just shoot that truck, Austin.”
“I just need a ride home.”
Ashley glanced over at the passenger seat. “Alright, but you have to run a mission with me.”
“Fine.”
“Where are you?”
“At the shop.”
“Be out front in two minutes.”
“Can we swing by-”
“You’re wasting time Austin. Get out front.” She pushed the end call button and the music rose again as she banked into a parking lot, bounced hard over the edge of an unavoidable speed bump, and careened across the empty parking lot. She sang along to the Corrido, a song that she had memorized phonetically and pitch perfectly, although she had no idea what she was actually singing.
Less than two minutes later she skipped the curb pulling into the Desert Sand’s front lot and winced as she heard the ground effects scrape concrete. Austin and Jeremiah stood outside the rolling gate, smoking a cigarette. When Austin saw Mr. Ouija bounce onto the lot, he dropped his smoke and waved the last of the smoke from his face. Ashley let the glass pack growl as she downshifted into the lot and then coasted straight up to them. “Austin that is a filthy stinking habit and I’ve told you I’m not driving you around if you reek.”
“Jeremiah can smoke.”
“Jeremiah isn’t begging for yet another ride because all of Jeremiah’s vehicles run properly. Now get in here.” Ashley scooted Sir Pugsley to the back seat.
The lock popped, and Austin slid down into the dog-fur-matted, blue velour seat cover.
Jeremiah leaned down to peer in at the driver and stall her for a moment. “Hey Smashley, when are we going to get that beer?”
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
“Watch those fenders, then. That satin black is distinctive.”
Ashley smiled. He had mentioned it in passing before, but it had become a sort of blackmail leverage that he smirked at. Despite the fact that she wasn’t in her usual makeup, and she wore her glasses, she affected a well-practiced stripper voice of part seduction, and part condescension. “Maybe if you take a shower and clean all that grease out from under your fingernails, we can discuss it.” She stomped the clutch and revved the engine adding “Ya greasy fuck,” low enough that only Austin could hear it. Ashley popped the clutch, gunning it out of the parking lot and back into the street, skirting the main streets and opting for the outlying roads on the edge of the wash. The asphalt was a little bumpier, but she got some good skids on the gravel. There was less traffic out there, and generally less cops. When the road straightened out, she dropped her visor to check her reflection. “Why do you even hang out with that guy?”
“Jeremiah’s alright.”
“Jail changed him.”
“He wasn’t even in a real jail the whole time, he was at some wayward boy’s home, or whatever.”
An array of green LEDs flickered on the radar detector until a red lit and it beeped. Ashley slowed a little and ducked into her seat.
“Why are we flying stealth tonight?”
Ashley watched her mirrors for a state cop or highway patrol. Sheriff Etherton never bothered turning on his radar. “Just a casual drive. I thought I’d get a little practice tonight.”
Austin ducked farther into his seat and gripped the door handle. Flying stealth meant that she had turned off the neon strips that ran the lower edge of the car and made it appear as if it were hovering on a cloud of electric blue light. She did this when she wanted to roll incognito, although anyone in town would recognize that car regardless. Practicing meant that she might, at any moment, try to “run the gauntlet” and veer down a side street to squirrel it around the little suburban homes that lay at the very edge of the desert. If he had known that this was her mission, he might have decided to walk home instead. He wasn’t sure which option was safer, whether to be riding inside the car or walking on the sidewalks when Ashley was practicing. Bouncing along a potted section of the road he felt something jabbing him in the ass. He reached under his ass and withdrew a small cross-shaped chrome tool. “What the hell is this?”
She glanced at the tool, took it, and tucked it under her thigh. “Nothing.” When the LED array went blank, she sped up. “Talk to me, Austin. It’s like we never hang out anymore. You’re becoming a stranger to me, and I simply won’t have it.”
Austin reached back to pat Sir Pugsley on his furrowed brow while attempting to avoid the probable licking that Sir Pugsley would reply with. “Jynx and I found something cool out in the wash the other day.”
“Oh yeah?” Ashley responded, but she was probably not paying attention, still watching her rearview mirror.
“It’s big, I mean really big.”
“Like an industrial fridge this time?” She smiled. So, she was paying attention.
“Har har.”
Ashley cut down a side street, but she signaled and took it easy around the corner, suddenly executing a Driver’s Ed textbook perfect left turn down a street.
“Jeremiah thinks it’s a prop from a movie or something. He says it was probably washed over years ago when Hollywood was still using the valley for alien movie sets.”
“What is it?”
“Jynx thinks it’s the real thing, but she still believed in unicorns until a few years ago.”
Ashley glanced over, glaring. That was Jeremiah’s line, and he had been using it to describe Jynx ever since the Tough Guy Club. “What exactly is it, Austin?” She signaled right and made another perfect turn.
“I don’t know, it’s all like, dented and dinged up, and there’s a big tear in the bottom of it. Jeremiah says that if we can’t fix it, we can probably sell it to the scrap yard for a few hundred bucks.”
Ashley shook her head. “Not what I meant.”
“We think it’s a flying saucer.”
Ashley laughed. “Well, at least it’s not a fridge.”
“Definitely not a fridge this time.”
Ashley flipped her hoodie up and crouched deeper into her seat.
“I mean, but what if it is real?” He watched the road ahead, waiting for her to stomp the accelerator and peel off around a corner, but she didn’t.
She bobbed her head, nodding, or grooving on the music, Austin couldn’t decide which.
“This could be something really important, maybe historic, y’know?”
Ashley flipped switches on the console. The headlights dropped out, but a dim UV glow ran the width of the bumper still. She killed the engine coming around the corner and coasted up to the curb, flipping the last of the lights off. She sat upright in the seat, suddenly focused entirely on him. Without her makeup on, and her thick glasses, she was another woman entirely. “That’s really cool, Austin. I mean, I’m really excited for you both and I hope everything turns out super cool.” She pulled a small flashlight from her hoodie pocket, flicked it on and off quickly to be sure that it worked, and stuffed it back into her pocket, along with the little chrome tool that Austin sat on when he first got into the car. She pulled her phone from the bracket on the dash and checked the time, tucking it into her other pocket. “Hey, uh, do me a favor? I just need you to sit here for a second and keep an eye out. If you see anybody, text me.”
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“Okay,” he said.
“I mean if you see anything move on the fucking block, you text me immediately, got it?”
“Got it,” he said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m…” She cocked her head to the side and squinted at him. “It’s better if you don’t know.” She smiled. “Plausible deniability and all.”
“What?”
“Just text me if you see anybody coming.” She slid out the door. Sir Pugsley took her spot in the driver’s seat, placing his paws on the steering wheel and grumbling low as she walked away. She skirted the orange glow of the sodium arch streetlamps as she made her way down the street. It occurred to Austin that she had chosen a moonless night to go lurking around a neighborhood and wearing black. He wondered at the strange tool, but she’d taken it with her. He glanced over at Sir Pugsley who watched him back. “Probably best not to ask too many questions, huh bud?” He patted Sir Pugsley’s head, still holding his palm far enough away that he would not get licked.
The first droplets of rain spattered the windshield, plunking innocently in fat wet explosions, the steady thrum increasing with each passing moment. Within an hour, the storm would rage through stronger than the night before.
* * *
Nikki watched Austin hop out of the passenger seat of the Cooper girl’s little black race car. He waited at the end of his own driveway, standing out in the downpour like an idiot. She saw him glance over towards the front of their house, perhaps seeing her in the kitchen window. He seemed uncertain and definitely soggy. Nikki waved. He waved back, timidly. She beckoned to him, inviting him over for dinner. Kelly wouldn’t be off work for a few hours yet, and thus far, she’d been able to glean nothing from her own daughter, though she’d tried all afternoon. She hoped that getting them both in the same room together might reveal something about the night before.
Amber had emerged from her subterranean hideout early in the afternoon, slipping into the house for a shower and breakfast of some sort. While this was not entirely unusual, Nikki had been surprised to wake from her own midday slumber to find Amber sitting quietly on the couch, poking at some tablet device of some sort.
Nikki turned on the TV. Amber didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t even glance up once to watch the weekend news report. Nikki finished her breakfast and coffee in a strange quiet, the only sound that of the television. After the weather report, Nikki flipped the channel to one of the cartoon networks that Amber liked when she was younger. She didn’t complain, she just kept on poking at the thing in her lap. Nikki was accustomed to Amber playing on her phone, but she didn’t remember buying a tablet of any sort. Deciding to do a little snooping, she strolled up behind Amber and began running her fingers through her daughter’s hair, much as she had when Amber was just a little girl. It was a secret trick to calm Amber in her early fits, and still worked to make her docile, occasionally. Amber didn’t make a sound but leaned her head back slightly to allow her mother to continue combing.
Although Amber didn’t say a word, Nikki took a peek at the screen of the tablet resting in her lap. It was apparently blank. Amber kept poking and swiping at it like she was playing a game, but nothing appeared on the tablet. On closer inspection, it didn’t even have a discernible screen. Amber might as well have been tickling a tin roof shingle. The other thing that troubled Nikki was a small scratch and pale bruise on Amber’s bare shoulder. Caressing it lightly, Amber pulled her sweatshirt up to cover it immediately, but she didn’t say anything about it.
Short of actually asking if anything had happened with Austin the night before, she was entirely unable to read anything into Amber’s responses. Whether it was the approaching storm, thunderheads gathering to the south, or just some childhood nostalgia, Amber had built herself a little nest at the far corner of the couch and seemed perfectly content to watch cartoons. Figuring that the girl might sit still long enough for a meal at least, Nikki finally went out to pick up groceries in order to fix Amber a real sit-down dinner. That Austin had arrived just in time to join them was pure serendipity, she hoped.
Austin came in the front door dripping on the tile in the walkway. “Hey, Mrs. Nash. Is Jynx home?” He didn’t seem nervous at all, and he hadn’t shied away from the invite, so Nikki was mildly relieved that he hadn’t abused her daughter somehow. “She’s in the living room.”
He found Jynx sitting on the couch, her feet tucked under a knitted Afghan. She had a hunk of metal in her hand, running her fingers along the surface as if it were a tablet or computer pad. “I don’t think she’s feeling well,” Nikki said.
“I’m fine, mom,” Amber called from the couch.
“Is she sick?” Austin asked.
Nikki had checked her over but found nothing, no fever, no chills, no coughing, or sneezing. The scratch and bruise had been slightly troubling, although it might just be the general wear and tear that the kids seemed to suffer on a daily basis. Amber just wanted to hang out in the house. That in itself seemed a little odd. “Did something happen last night?” Nikki asked, attempting to sound casual.
Austin glanced over at Amber, watching for her reaction, and finding nothing, he shrugged. “Nothing really. We found something in the wash yesterday and dug it out,” he said.
That, at least, might explain the scratches and bruises that Nikki had seen on Amber. “What did you find?”
Again, Austin glanced over at his partner in crime, uncertain of how to answer the question.
“It’s nothing, mom,” she kept playing with the little aluminum slab, “probably just some junk.” She glanced up at Austin with a sneer.
“Well, you’re welcome to stay for dinner, Austin. I made Amber’s favorite roasted root veggies, sausage, and brussels sprouts.” Glancing over at her daughter, she noticed no visible reaction. She shrugged at Austin. Austin thanked her politely and motioned to the bathroom to clean himself off and dry a little of the rain. Meanwhile, Nikki set the table and dished them up plates, finishing the service with a jar of mayonnaise for Austin. It was anyone’s guess where he learned to eat his brussels sprouts with mayo, but she didn’t mind, so long as he finished all of his vegetables.
Sitting down to dinner, the three of them ate in silence. Nikki wondered why she even bothered. “What’s the poster for, hon?” she finally asked Austin.
“Oh, uh…” he glanced down at the rolled-up antifreeze sale poster sitting beside the front door. “Jeremiah is teaching me how to do body work.”
Nikki doubted that the Jiménez boy was teaching him anything valuable. “Body work?” she inquired, maintaining a polite level of curiosity.
“Why?” Amber looked up from her plate, stoically glaring at Austin.
“We were going to patch it.” He said to Amber. He glanced over at Nikki. “Well, it’s good practice,” he said.
Amber shrugged. “It doesn’t need it,” Amber said, returning to her meal. She forked a carrot wedge, and regarding it almost haughtily, she quipped: “You’re wasting your time.”
“It’s just for practice,” Austin mumbled, looking somewhat dejected.
Body work? Is that what the kids were calling it these days? If they were speaking in code, Nikki couldn’t begin to decipher it.
“It’s just a useless piece of junk, right? I mean, why bother?” Amber leaned back, pondering a bite-sized bit of kielbasa poised on her fork.
“We just thought we’d see if we could fix the hole.”
“We!?” Amber blurted. “It’s none of his damn business!” Amber grew suddenly indignant.
“We just thought—”
“It’s not yours,” Amber growled.
“Now, Amber,” Nikki said, preparing for a fit. “I’m sure that whatever it is—”
“It’s not his. They don’t understand, Mom.”
It had been some time since Nikki had dated anyone, but she was fairly certain that the game hadn’t changed all that much. Although she was entirely at a loss for the metaphor of the patch, she knew enough about “junk” and “body work” to recognize that whatever the two of them were into, it was definitely none of the Jiménez boy’s business. “I don’t like you kids hanging out with that boy,” Nikki stated, apropos of nothing. The two of them seethed quietly across from each other.
“Look, it can’t hurt to try,” Austin petitioned.
Amber sat across from him; her face stubbornly set in a glare.
If Nikki had originally feared that Austin had assaulted her daughter, she was beginning to worry that Amber might have chewed him up and was spitting him out right there at the dinner table. She was uncertain as to who needed a scolding, and rather than figure it out, she chose instead to focus on her own plate, contemplating grabbing a dollop of mayonnaise of her own. The rest of the meal continued in awkward silence, Nikki watching them both for any hints as to whether or not they had already attempted to “patch it” the night before.
After dinner, Amber returned to her couch while Austin quietly helped Nikki clear the table and load the dishwasher. Catching his eye a few times, Nikki decided that Kelly’s boy, though handsome enough in his own way, was definitely no match for Amber. She found herself feeling sorry for the poor boy. He had always been so devoted. After they finished clearing dinner he stood in the front hallway, watching Amber pretend to play on her new tablet.
“You wanna hang out later?” Austin asked.
Amber didn’t answer at first, entirely focused on what appeared to be a dead device. “Nah,” she finally mumbled. “I’m still a little beat.”
“Okay.” Austin shrugged, deciding that it was time to go.
“What time are you going to work in the morning?” Amber asked.
Austin shrugged. “Ten, maybe?”
Amber nodded quietly. “Okay,” she said, and that was it.
Austin politely excused himself, took his rolled-up cardstock and his damp repair manual with him as he dashed across the lawn through the driving rain.
Nikki dressed for work, unable to make anything of the discussion over dinner. Something undoubtedly happened between them, but whatever it was, they weren’t going to give it away. Just before she left for work, she sent Kelly a text: “Nothing.” She wrote.
An hour later Kelly texted back: “Confirmation or no Sven.”
Nikki hoped that whatever trouble those kids had found, they would figure out a way to settle it soon. Since she’d watched the boy crawl out of the hatch, she had set her sights on that deep tissue massage, and possibly a “patch job” of her own.