“Ha HA! And now for that foot…rub…?”
Lloyd sat straight up,
eager to make good on his promise -- and he likely would have, if not for the
blanket of night shrouding the room. What sorcery is this? Where has everyone gone? Where has the sun gone? He started counting off on his fingers. Let’s
see…I remember welcoming Lady Overdose into the group…and then I went to wash
my hands…and then I remember everything going dar- oh, that explains it.
He slid off the couch
and stood up, with the distant street lamps providing just enough light to move
through the den. Did I really sleep for this long? he wondered. He scratched a few of his bangs. My
goodness. I must have been more tired
than I thought -- if the rest of my life is going to be as hectic as today was,
I may need to consider joining a gym.
He stroked his chin for
a moment. Or…I could go see what JP is up to.
I wonder if he’s still having nightmares about those ghosts…
Lloyd trotted down the
hall and pressed an ear to JP’s door. I suppose it would have helped if I hadn’t
walked into his room that time while wearing a bed sheet and suffering from
food poisoning. But I just couldn’t
resist the allure of that sandwich --
“I don’t think I was
wrong.”
Before Lloyd could open
the door, he pulled back his hand. That
was JP’s voice, no question -- and without a shred of drowsiness, to boot. It
seems as if he started a conversation before I could -- and if my hunch is
right, perhaps I should leave them to their affairs.
“Gaston has a
weakness. He has to,” JP continued. “We just have to figure out what it is -- and
I’m guessing we at least got close to an answer.”
“Ya think so, pal?”
Trixie asked, all while sounding no sleepier than JP did. “I mean, all those kids ended up headin’ back
inside to beat on each other, so --”
“But we’re getting
closer to an answer. Grandma gave us a
hint -- the stronger the senses, the easier it is to avoid getting hit by one
of Gaston’s illusions. So if it’s a
matter of perception, we just have to find a surefire way to either boost our
senses, or find a way to weaken his orders.”
“Maybe so…but what
kinda sense can ya beef up to protect ya from mind control?”
What, indeed, Lloyd thought as he folded his arms.
JP groaned for a
moment. “I hate to admit it, but I’m
starting to think that our biggest advantage may be from Lloyd. He’s got a power. Gaston has…well, at least two powers. So maybe Lloyd’s got some kind of resistance
to his mind control -- and as long as he keeps doing his heart thing, he can
boost the resistance of others.”
“I dunno. I was the first one he used his power on, and
Gaston still had me hardwired to stab Lloyd.”
Another groan from
JP. “Maybe…maybe his power is still
imperfect.”
Imperfect? Lloyd stared at
his hands. Is it possible?
“I think it’s
possible. Think about it -- Gaston may
be able to affect people however he wants, but I doubt even he could get as
good as he is without practice. Maybe
Lloyd’s the same way. If he keeps using
his power, maybe he’ll end up getting a stronger version of it -- or maybe a
power that doesn’t suck ass.” Lloyd heard a clap from behind the door -- no
doubt the sound of JP slapping a palm to his forehead. “The problem is that we have to count on
Lloyd.”
Trixie gave a short
laugh. “Ya don’t trust yer brother?”
JP started to speak,
but suddenly paused. “…I don’t
know. About a week ago, I would’ve
written him off as my idiot brother -- same as always. But…well, I guess he’s actually more
dependable than I thought. The odds --
and common sense -- were definitely against him, but he came to save me
anyway. And he actually made an ally out
of an enemy. So in a way -- in a
situation as absurd as this -- he’s actually more reliable than the average
Joe.”
“Yeah. He’s a crazy one, but he’s still a good
guy. We just gotta do what we can to
help him out, and help each other, too.”
She laughed sheepishly. “Course,
that’d mean ya’d hafta start trustin’ me…”
“I already do. You helped me out, after all -- and there’s
the fact that you haven’t stabbed me in my sleep, so I guess you’ve proven
yourself.”
Lloyd glanced
aside. Just how close did I come to getting stabbed today? But he shook the thought out of his
mind. No. I won’t press that issue if
I don’t have to; whatever Miss Walters wants to tell me, she’ll do so on her
own terms. We are comrades, after all.
“Yeah, I guess I
shouldn’t expect much else from ya, pal,” said Trixie. “Just ‘cause ya trust me don’t mean ya gotta
like me.”
JP didn’t say anything.
“Hey, did ya hear
me? I mean, ya don’t have to say
it. I don’t mind if ya don’t like me,
but I’ll still help ya out when I can.
‘Cause I like ya.”
Still nothing, save for
a near-mute mumble.
“What’d ya say? I didn’t -- whoa, ya feelin’ all right? All of a sudden ya got kinda --”
“I just thought I’d
make a quick announcement,” JP said suddenly -- and a few dozen decibels louder
than before. “If there are any
purple-haired morons listening in on this conversation, just keep in mind that
I grabbed my old bat from the garage.
And I’m pretty damn sure I can swing it hard…though I guess it doesn’t
matter, since it’s a METAL bat.”
N-not the Moneymaker! Lloyd
stood stiff as a board -- and at the sound of the turning doorknob, he dashed
back into the den. Whew! A close call, if there ever
was one. He wiped his brow. I
didn’t think I needed to remind JP of this, but I like the shape of my head as
it is.
As he regained his
composure, he caught a glimpse of something on his right -- a sliver of light,
peeking into the den. The source? The front door -- left open just a few
inches, and bobbing back and forth a few centimeters thanks to a late-night
breeze. Is someone outside? I wonder
who…it couldn’t be Gaston, could it?
He crept towards the door on the tips of his toes, wishing for a moment
that he had the bat instead of JP. But
as he peeked outside, that wish didn’t last.
Patton and Mrs.
Overdose sat atop the porch, with as much space as they could afford, given
Patton’s bulk. As the door slid open,
they looked back at Lloyd, neither one offering a smile. “Ah, it’s just you two,” said Lloyd. “I must admit, you gave me a fright.”
Mrs. Overdose turned to
Patton. “Soooooooooooo, is your kid adopted
or somethin’? And he’s actually
British?”
Patton ignored her, of
course. “Sleep well?”
“I did, actually. Though I suspect I would have enjoyed my
slumber a tad more if I was aware I’d gone into it.” He waved a hand dismissively. “But enough about me. How are the two of you faring? It’s a bit worrisome to see you out here,
rather than the comfort of your beds.”
“I didn’t feel like
sleeping. And the old lady here, she wanted
to wait for you to wake up so she could sleep on the sofa.”
“And maybe get my foot
rub,” Mrs. Overdose added.
Lloyd nodded quickly,
and clapped his hands together. “Ah,
yes, of course! I DO owe you one of
those…well then, shall I get started?”
“Eh, forget about
it. We’ll just do it first thing in the
morning.” She shifted her reed around a
bit. “I’m hopin’ I don’t have to go through
as much crap tomorrow as I did today.”
“You’ve nothing to
fear, milady. As an honorary member of
our family, you’ll be able to enjoy many more freedoms and services!”
“You mean…like a back
rub?”
“Absolutely -- should
you so desire.”
Patton shifted a
bit. “Careful, Lloyd. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“On what? Surely there’s no harm in offering the fair
lady my massaging touch. But that aside,
what are you two doing out here, if not sleeping?”
“Talkin’,” said Mrs.
Overdose. “The problem’s that your dad’s
not much of a conversationalist. It’s
like I’m tryin’ to shoot the breeze with a brick wall…with meat pinned to it.”
“Like I said, I’m out
of practice when it comes to talking with women,” Patton explained. “So…yeah, things can get a little awkward.”
“But surely the two of
you have a common ground?”
To Lloyd’s surprise,
Mrs. Overdose gave him a quick nod. “We
do. The stars.” She pointed up to them, twinkling in the navy
sky. “We can at least agree that they’re
nice to look at. And real far away. Probably couldn’t reach one before you go
belly-up -- and even if you did, you’d end up worse than a deep-fried chicken.”
“But like she said,
they’re nice to look at,” said Patton.
“And who knows? Maybe someday,
we’ll end up getting closer than anybody could’ve guessed.”
“Do you think it’s
possible?” Lloyd asked. “I don’t have
much of an aptitude for astronomy, so the particulars of space travel are lost
on me.”
“Is it possible…well,
what do you think, son?”
Lloyd reeled a
bit. “Me? W-well, I suppose that it will be,
someday. And without the hazards, as
well. I can’t say I have much of a basis
in fact or technological precedents, but I can see the possibilities. Just a few hundred years ago, there were
likely people that didn’t believe people would ever be able to fly. Now there are scores of businessmen,
soldiers, and daredevils that do it every day.”
He ran a few fingers across his chin, and stared quizzically at the
sky. “To be fair, all that is done with
the assistance of machinery and no shortage of funding, not biological means,
but even so --”
“Why am I not
surprised?” Mrs. Overdose asked, throwing up her hands. “Always the optimist, never the realist.”
“True enough. But that’s what I have you for, right?”
“Yeah, but…” She swished the reed around a bit more, and
stared up at the sky. “All that optimism
of yours? Maybe it’s not such a bad
thing.”
“How so?”
“Isn’t it obvious? A realist’ll settle into any old job he can
get, as long as it’s safe and pays well.
An optimist’ll go broke, laugh off an empty wallet, and keep on thinkin’
he’s got a shot at becomin’ a millionaire.”
She cast a cool eye at Lloyd.
“And only after he’s pulled it off, he’ll think about how he’ll get his
next meal.”
“Hmmm. I’m not quite sure I get it…but I get it.”
“Don’t strain yourself,
kid. I need you nice and healthy --
especially if you’re gonna lead us all to good fortune.” She stood up, rotated a shoulder, and started
for the den -- but before she could walk through the door, she stopped and
turned back to Patton. “Guess we’ve got
more than just stars in common, huh?”
Patton nodded. “Guess we do.”
Without another word,
she disappeared into the house…leaving Lloyd with crossed arms and a confused
stare. “Okay, now I’m certain I don’t
get it.”
“You’ll get it one day,
Lloyd,” said Patton. “And one day
soon. You’re on your way to becoming a
real man -- especially now that we’ve got all this nonsense on our plates.”
“Maybe so, but --”
“No buts about it. You’re on your way, and a lot faster than I
ever would’ve guessed. And thanks to
that, I don’t have any problems following your lead when it comes to dealing
with Gaston.”
Lloyd took a seat on
the porch. “Thank you. But you know I’ll need your strength.”
“Then you’ve got it.”
“And JP’s
intelligence.”
“He’ll give it, too.”
“And Miss Walters’
support, and Lady Overdose’s savvy.”
“You’ll get it. You’ll get everything you need -- I’ll make
sure of that.”
Lloyd laughed to
himself. “I find it more than a little
amusing that what little strength I’ve mustered is centered around the people
on my side. I can only begin to imagine
how many times I might have failed up to this point if not for the trust and
faith placed in me…to say nothing of others compensating for my failings.”
Patton cocked his
head. “Starting to have doubts now?”
“I’m afraid I’ve done
enough of that for one day -- and more than enough for one lifetime. I’ll remain aware of my failings, but as long
as I continue to surround myself with my dearest friends, I’ll be able to
continue moving forward.” He looked down
at the ground, but kept a slight smile on his face. “It is a bit harrowing to know that there are
people putting their trust in me, though.
There are expectations that need to be met, and I want to do all I can
to satisfy them. But…”
“But what?”
Lloyd winced. “Gaston.
He had a point today -- I don’t have an answer, short-term or long-term,
on how to deal with him. Bringing him to
justice is the obvious end goal, but I have no clue how to even begin
approaching it…to say nothing of the fact that with his powers, he could very
well be immune to the law.” He shook his
head slowly. “Even with that aside, I
may have peaked in terms of what I can do, against him as well as for my own
aims. Thanks to him, there’s a fault in
my scheme that I’m growing ever more aware of.”
“A fault? Not a chance.
You’re all about love, aren’t you?”
Lloyd nodded, and
turned to his father. “It may be because of love that I have such
faults.”
“Hmmmm.” Patton and Lloyd stared at the lawn, letting
the night’s ambience sound off between them.
Crickets chirped in the distance, and hopped their way through fields of
grass. The street lamps hummed and
flickered, and a smattering of bugs fluttered around a few in the
distance. Once more, a cool, salty wind
swept through the neighborhood, shifting grass and hair alike.
Patton stared at the
street -- and then, after minutes of silence, turned to Lloyd. “Listen --”
But before he could say
a word, Lloyd held up a hand and smiled.
“You’ve given me quite a bit of encouragement already; I daresay if I
let you do it constantly, I’ll grow addicted to it.” He flashed a grin. “If that happened, how would I ever become
the man you envision?”
“Guess you’re right
about that.”
“I’ll need your
support, but you don’t have to worry.
I’ll be able to handle myself, at least a little bit.” Lloyd stumbled to his feet, and stared at the
sky with a warm smile. “Little by little,
I can see the road I need to walk, and the choices I need to make. If there’s a fault within me, I’ll reverse
it. If there’s an enemy before me, I’ll
overcome it. If there’s a heart beside
me, I’ll nurture it, and have it walk alongside me. Flawed and haphazard as I may be, I can still
move forward. I can do my best…and I can
make my dream a reality.”
Patton stood up in
kind, and patted Lloyd on the shoulder.
“Atta boy. Always good to hear
that you’re in high spirits.”
“Always good to have
them.”
“Yeah.” He trudged up the steps and put a hand on the
doorknob. “Tomorrow’s another day,
Lloyd. Might want to get some more sleep
in -- there’s probably a lot of planning you need to do.”
“There is. But to be frank, I already have some
semblance of a plan.”
“Really? What did you have in mind?”
Lloyd’s grin stretched
a bit wider.
*
Another peal of thunder
and lightning tore through the sky, temporarily scattering the wind and rain
from their destination. But a moment
later, they resumed their course -- slashing and hammering the peak overlooking
the ocean. It weathered the storm, just
as it always had. If it didn’t, then the
mansion atop it would have crumbled into the depths.
But the mansion stood
its ground, just as its foundation did -- though the sickly-hued bricks that
comprised it had long since lost their splendor. Indeed, it looked less like a mansion and
more like a castle -- if not because of the stone, then because of the towering
ramparts and looming walls. Even a rogue
thunderbolt would find infiltration nigh-impossible.
And within that
mansion? Untold dozens of rooms -- but
one in particular remained most notable.
It was where he often took residence; it was the only room where he ever
felt at ease. Only the occasional flash
of lightning managed to fully illuminate it -- when it didn’t, only a handful
of hanging lights broke through the shadows.
But the average man had just enough light to maneuver -- and he had more
than enough to make his way through. He
knew it all by heart. Hundreds of wires,
weaving a lattice across the cold, dampened floor. A half-dozen gurneys, covered with tools and
knobs, batteries and Bunsen burners.
Consoles of every shape and size, some stretching across the walls, and
others touching the ceiling -- all of them packed to capacity with meters,
levers, dials, and gauges. Tesla coils
tucked into corners like standing lamps; bubbling beakers filled with any
number of deadly toxins; chalkboards riddled with equations and
nigh-indecipherable numbers; a desk covered in papers and a half-eaten cinnamon
bun. Truly, the mark of a man of science
-- a man of madness.
“Doctor. The readings have been successfully
compiled.”
The doctor jerked away
from his latest scribbles. “Good. Good!
Give me the news! Is it as I
predicted?”
“Affirmative,
Doctor. The energy spikes have been
recorded and tallied. As you predicted,
they are all localized within the specified coordinates.”
“Excellent. Excellent!
Then the time has come at last!
We can begin making our preparations in full -- the time has come to
act! And act we shall!”
The assistant nodded,
and bowed her head. “Shall I provide a
full report for you, Doctor?”
“No need! If it’s as I predicted, then the sooner we
act, the better off we’ll all be.” He
jogged toward another chalkboard and started scribbling atop it. “Drop everything you’re doing! You’re heading off to Porbeagle!”
“As you wish,
Doctor. Shall I make use of the jets you
installed?”
The doctor shot an eye
at her. “Are you INSANE? You know how much it’d cost to refuel you
after that? I spent eight million
dollars just getting your ass right -- I’m not about to waste any more so you
can go flying across the ocean!” He
flung his hand through the air, and returned to his work on the board. “You’ll walk there. And while you’re under the sea, maybe grab me
a nice seashell or two. I’ve been
looking to start a collection, you see.”
“Doctor, I must caution
you that if I walk across the ocean floor, there is a high probability that it
will take additional time -- time better spent on achieving our objective. In addition, the retrieval of undersea goods
has a ninety-two percent chance of triggering flashbacks to your seventh-grade
beach party --”
“Never mind the
time! We’ve got plenty of it, since
we’ve got such a big leg-up. Just get
moving, and get me some results! And
some seashells!”
“As you wish,
Doctor. By your leave…” She gave another bow. “Unit 04: Panzerfaust, deploying. Initiating mission optimization sub-routines
now.” She ran for the open window, her
steps letting loose a metallic pang -- and a flash of lightning illuminated her
metallic body in the window frame just before she vanished.
The doctor furrowed his
brow. “I wonder if I told her NOT to
kill the target…eh, it’ll be fine. She’s
a smart girl.” He looked around the
lab. “Now, where’d I leave that cinnamon
bun?”
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