Chapter 18

  Thomas was seated on the waist-length balcony, refreshed by the cold wind. He stared at the clear sky trying to place a colour to it, but gave up trying, watching for birds. He was only fortunate to see one flying at the far north, few metres over a certain tree.

  Staring at the beautiful, uniformed houses made him sigh. As much as he told himself that he didn't miss his parents, his inner self struggled with the notion.

  He still felt a measure of pity for his parents' death, but then. . .he remembered Donald. The name itself gave a stab in his chest. He swung a fist against the wall where he rested his back, just adjacent to his buttocks.

  His head began to burn, and he struggled not to allow images of that day flow back to his head. That day when Donald stood for him.

  Donald was someone who aspired for big things at just that junior highschool age. As children from Oxford, they'd always dreamed of schooling in the great university.

  Donald was smart, he knew so many stuffs cross his age. Thomas could remember the day Donald had beaten their then seniors in a school quiz. He was the brains. Just thinking of the looks on the faces of the seniors made Thomas' cheeks raise as his eyes began to cloud.

  Thomas and Donald had rich parents in common; though the latter's were not as rich as Thomas', yet, richer than most in school, nevertheless.

  The latter's parents were scientists — both. They loved to share new inventions with them (Donald and Thomas). They were always excited about their new creations. Tom always envied Donald's parents. They had so much love for one another; unlike his parents. He shaked his head in dispair.

  There was a certain day — Thomas just couldn't stop himself now from flowing down memory lane — when they had Invention Day at school.

  Everyone, of course, were excited for the D-Day, and no one wanted to be a "The Loser", hence, the science students were resolved to put in their best.

  Thomas remembered making a solar system. He found a way to connect batteries to make the well-designed planets revolve around the big sun in its middle which was standing on a stake. He thought he'd killed it all, up untill he saw Donald's at school. He was awestruck; the lad had invented a robot octopus that moved at a remote he programmed with it.

  The latter's invention had beaten Gray from grade eleven who'd never lost his position as best inventor at highschool. And to think Donald was in grade seven was even more defaming.

  Donald defended his work perfectly by explaining all of its features and inner structures. Hence, he'd won the price in flying colours, while Gray was left to roll in his fury, woefully.

  That's where the problem came in.

  While Donald stayed late in the school lab that day, talking to his teachers, Tom made himself busy by flaunting his own medal of fifth place.

  Boys of Gray called the Black Out noticed he was also bragging about his buddy, Donald, then they decided to transfer the anger on Thomas.

  They took him and placed him into a wastebin, shouting "dushbag!" over his head. They pulled him out and began hitting hard against him till he could barely identify the figures about him. He could feel warm liquid running down his nose. His feet were unstable, and just when he thought they would leave, he felt the medal around his neck stripped off, followed by some uneven words, and a heavy blow to his face. He fell to the ground, fighting to keep his consciousness.

  "Thomas?! No!" he heard a familiar voice cry in the far background.

  He listened as he heard the boys stumping out against his buddy. Tears slipped off his eyes. He feared the worse, he feared that. . .

  Gboooh! rattled a gun.

  "It was all because of me!" Thomas screamed as he settled back from memory walk, giving way to fresh tears. The wind howled guilt in his ears.

  Using his palms, he wiped his face which was already too blushed. He shaked his head, looking down at his wrist. Just then, he thought of Tiana. It was about time he'd gone to visit her at the hospital.

"LET ME GET SOMETHING STRAIGHT, you saw some teenage slums at the Edgeton's window, and you think one of them is Chengdu Chen Jake?"

  "Look here, boy," said Mr. Jenkins to the sheriff, "my wife is not insane, and we're not going to repeat the details if you don't find it important!"

  "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," said Daniel Redwood, raising a cup of coffee to his lips to digest the information, adjusting his tie with his left hand. As an afterthought, he scribbled the details in a short paper.

  "Any other thing you'd want us to know?" asked he.

  "Yes," said Mrs. Jenkins. "The teenagers were by Harrison's window."

  That said, the elderly couples raised themselves from their seats and gave the formal bade of farewell without exchanging handshakes.

  Still seated in his seat, he stared at the transparent door of his office as he watched them stroll out in locked arms.

  He looked down at what he'd scribbled, then added on the paper: HARRISON'S WINDOW.

  He called a colleague, and together, they began to pose questions at themselves that should lead to satisfying answers. But first thing was first; they'd be paying the Chengdu's a visit.

* * *

  Jocelyn woke up from sleep by a horn from a truck outside. She brushed her eyes with the back of her hand, throwing one leg before the other to get a glimpse through the window.

  She, using her index and middle finger, parted the curtain a little to see Anderson and Harrison battling with a fancy contraption to Andy's flat.

  What in the world!

  "These blokes are crazy indeed."

  She caressed her waist before the standing mirror, for a moment. She liked the shape she saw, propelled by the three-quarter tight she was putting on. It was the only thing on her body.

  She drew out a shelf from the drawer by the mirror then packaged her hair to a tiny pony tail, like Amanda does. Although, Joce's own was way thicker and fatter than one would term "tiny".

  Giving a quick yawn, she ran to the bathroom where she took a quick, warm bath, got fresh, heavy clothes on, and wore a good bodyspray on.

  By the time she got outside, the truck had long departed, despite the fact that she thought she'd been pretty fast.

  She rang the doorbell of the Simpson's and waited for a moment; there was no response. She rang again, and almost simultaneously, Harry's head popped around the corner of the door frame.

  "Howdy lad!"

  "Howdy lass, how d'you do?"

  "How d'you do," she replied, stretching out a hand.

  Harry rolled his eyes.

  "I didn't mean the greeting to be formal."

  "Oh, my bad," said Joce, withdrawing her hands from the hanging space. She deeped her hands into her shirt pockets instead. "I'm fine."

  "Okay," said Harry. He knew it was awkward, but knew not a better mannerism.

  "Are you going to let me in or what?" asked Jocelyn, getting impatient.

  Harry didn't know a polite way to turn her off. He was about saying any of the stupid things that could pop into his head when Andy's voice came behind him, "What's taking you forever, Harry?"

  Joce smiled at the voice, and stretched her neck over Harry's shoulder to see the possessor.

  "Hey Jocelyn," said Andy uneasily, exchanging a quick glance with Harry. "How d'you do?"

  She smiled and pushed her way in, muttering these: "You're not going to leave me frozen to the teeth in the dead of the winter."

  Harry processed her words quickly, while Andy thought fast on how to prevent her from going upstairs.

  "That's not a fine way to respond a greeting."

  She stole a glimpse at him, then turned her head to Harry.

  "Why're you both dressed in the native? A suit and a hat — where are you coming from, and what's with the look you're both giving me?"

  Harry didn't know it, but his smile was not actually what one could term a smile, it was more of a hard grin. Andy took this sign quickly and marched his feet.

  "Awwch!" cried Harry. "What was that for?"

  "Oh, do pardon me, it must have been a mistake!" he said, exchanging a knowing look with him. Only he couldn't comprehend why this time.

  "I've got not the slightest idea why you're both acting funky, but I need to see that contraption you moved in here."

  "Con-con-contraption?!" both boys stuttered in unison. "What contraption?"

  "Don't you dare lie to me, or fake unawareness, believe me I'll nag the life out of you both—"

  Said Andy, "Wouldn't want to see that."

  Agreed Harry, "Me neither."

  Jocelyn gave herself a victory smirk and said, "Well, show me already!"

  The boys dragged themselves after her, up the stairs.

  "So what have you been up to all day?" Anderson asked Jocelyn as they ascended the stairs.

  "Nothing much; I went to the beach and—"

  "You what?!" asked Harry, "I thought you said it was an abominable thing for you to do!"

  She was silent; they'd reached Andy's doormat, hence, their attention were fixed on whatever laid behind the door. Andy pushed the door in, and it opened without a screech. He adjusted his glasses which were already slipping off his nose, then gave way for the others to come in.

  Joce's eyes skedaddled about the four corners of his room, searching for a significant difference until. . .

  There, at the far end of Andy's room was something covered with a thick white blanket, just behind his desktop computer.

  Without waiting for an invitation, Jocelyn saved the duo the sermon to observe whatever was hidden behind the blanket. Andy and Harry guarded her from pulling the cover off it by obstructing her movement.

  "I shan't permit you to touch that; it's a terribly high-tech," Andy said.

  She groaned. "It's not fair, dudes! So not fair!"

  "What exactly, again?" asked Harry.

  "You're not letting me see your newest contraption!"

  Harry continued, "How else should one interprete 'terribly high-tech'?"

  She gave the question a thought before asking, "What kind of contraption is in there?"

  Andy looked over his shoulder, then back at Jocelyn.

  "It's a terribly high-tech."

  The lass became crestfallen, walking away from them to drop on a seat.

  "Please, Joce, we shouldn't let you see it for now."

  She nodded indifferently, then looked out the window.

  Both boys sat on the bed, opposite her seat.

  "Want to tell us why you went to the beach despite your resolve?" Anderson asked to change the mood in the air.

  Without looking at them, she shaked her head. "I'm not sure you'd understand."