Chapter 9

The door to the machine closed so smoothly and rapidly that Joey didn’t even have time to react. It was surprising that it didn’t go dark despite the lack of a visible light source. Even more intriguing was that it frightened him.

“Elsa?” He didn’t want her to worry even though he didn’t know how he was going to get out. His voice didn’t seem to make any sound other than inside his own head. There was no echo like there should be inside a metallic cylinder.

He banged on the side with his fist. That also made no noise. It was like being trapped in a vacuum except he could breathe. The button he’d pushed wasn’t there any more. Now he grew concerned.

“Elsa!”

Joey pounded against the wall with no sound from either side of the machine’s wall. It had to be made of some sound-dampening material, but what?

The sounds of rustling leaves stirred all around him. Even a mild breeze started. The sound and the breeze both increased in intensity. Now was a fine time to panic!

Slamming against the door did no good. In fact it just plain hurt. Tendrils of white shot up from the floor and wrapped up his feet then his legs. He tried to tear them off with no success. Breath came in short gasps.

This can’t be happening. This is a machine! What is it doing to me? Why is it doing this? It shouldn’t even be working it’s so old. God what’s happening!

The white tendrils wrapped his arms to his body snugly, but not uncomfortable. Joey tried to take a deep breath before his face was covered over, but wasn’t successful as it spun its cocoon over his head. He was, however, still able to breathe. He relaxed slightly, but was afraid he might have wet himself. What would it matter? Maybe this was a death machine and Elsa was just waiting outside for him to be dead.

There was a sensation of the floor falling away and everything went dark. By the warm feeling between his legs, Joey was now certain of what he’d done.

The darkness was bitterly cold; almost unbearably cold. He shivered and his teeth chattered slightly. Was this what it felt like to die? You wet yourself and then everything goes dark? But that couldn’t be right. Elsa said that her husband and son disappeared inside the machine. Where did they end up? Was he suddenly going to end up on the moon or something? That would be pretty bad. He’d last for about ten seconds before the freezing cold stiffened his body to nearly absolute zero.

What a way to go. What a stupid thing to do. Pushing that button was not a smart thing to do. What was I thinking?

Light crashed into him brutally. This sure wasn’t the near death experience he’d heard about. Those were supposed to be gentle and serene. This was intense and painful. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be at all. If he was dying, why was he in pain?

The white tendrils that had wrapped him like a mummy were gone now. The floor was a metal grate with a fine, mesh pattern on it. Why am I looking at the floor? Joey tried to lift his head, but it felt as if it were full of water and he bobbed from side to side each time he tried to move. What a horrible feeling.

If he hadn’t just crashed his bike this might not feel so awful, but deep down, he knew it would. Yes. It would hurt.

A pair of black boots stood on the grating in front of him.

“June, get up here. Now!”

The voice was strong and commanding. Was it coming from the person wearing the boots? The person in the boots leaned down. His face was blurry. It had brown hair and a brown caterpillar moustache. If anything, the smile reassured Joey.

“It’s going to be okay, kid. I’ve dealt with this before. Only once before, but before. We’ll take care of you.”

A female voice came from nowhere. “Vic, I’m busy and I’m strapped in. What do you need?”

“It’s important.”

“But Vic.”

“June, get up here. We’ve got someone on the ship.”

“What do you mean ‘someone’?”

“You know what I mean now get up here and help me out.”

There was a long silence. The man, his name must be Vic, helped Joey to his feet.

“June is on her way. Everything’s going to be alright, kid. Well, I guess that depends on your version of alright, but it’s the best I can do for you at the moment.”

It was difficult getting to his feet. It was rather like being a half-inflated blow-up toy. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his feet firmly planted.

“Vic, I’m busy. What do you mean…”

The female voice was closer than the speaker but still fuzzy. Joey turned his head and looked down a narrow passageway. Everything was steel gray and dull in appearance. Everything that was except that soft shape in the middle of the passageway.

“Put him on ice until we have a chance to deal with him.”

“Who is he?”

“Like I know that?”

“Well what am I supposed to do with him?”

“I figured you’d be the best one to deal with him as you’ve been through this too.”

“So what?”

“June, we’re in the middle of an emergency here. I don’t have time to argue with you. Just please take him downstairs and give him something.”

June grunted and put her arm around Joey’s waist. Vic put Joey’s arm around June’s shoulders.

“June’s going to take care of you kid. I think you two might even have a few things to talk about while you’re down there. Might make the transition easier.”

Joey managed to open his mouth and squeak a couple words out. “What transition?”

“I don’t have time, kid. June will have to answer that.”

And Vic disappeared. The sudden loss of Vic meant he had to put all his weight on June. She was softer than Vic and Joey didn’t like being a burden on her. It took away all his masculinity. He tried to stand up.

“Don’t even try it, bud. I tried to be all tough when I got here too. It’s not going to get you anywhere. Just let me lead you down to where you can lie down until this feeling passes.”

“How long?”

“It took me a few hours.”

“Where?”

“You don’t want to know right now, bud. Trust me on that one.”

Joey fought with his brain. He did want to know. He had to know. He obviously wasn’t in Elsa’s garage anymore. That machine still worked. It had transported him somewhere and two people were here at least, Vic and June. Could Vic be Victor, Elsa’s son? That wasn’t possible. Vic would be in his fifties at least. This man’s face, although blurry and hard to make out, couldn’t have been more than twenty five or thirty.

“I’m not going to tell you anything and I don’t think you should try to talk. I’m going to ask you some simple questions and you can just nod or shake your head. Do you understand?”

Joey nodded.

“Have you eaten recently?”

Had he? He’d had tea with Elsa and he’d left home before he’d had dinner. Suddenly he realized how hungry he was. He shook his head.

“We’ll have to get something into your stomach. It’ll help this feeling go away faster. I’m going to take you to the kitchen. When was the last time you went to the bathroom?” June looked down at Joey’s pants. “Aw that sucks. Look, I’ll help you get some food, but you’re changing that yourself. I’ll get you some overalls or something but I’m not playing nurse. That’s not my job.”

Joey would have blushed if he had control over his body but he didn’t. He could still feel the cold wetness in his pants.

“So you look all tore up, what happened? No, on second thought, tell me later. At least it looks like someone bound you up before you came here. I guess we know that the machine is still working.”

“What is it?”

“I told you I’ll tell you later. You need to get better first. Here’s the kitchen. Watch your head.”

The doorway into the kitchen was low and Joey lolled his head forward, it wanted to loll to the side, and accidentally nuzzled June’s neck. Her hair was strawberry-blonde and felt nice on his face. She smelled good, but something reminded Joey of his mother.

“Hey! I’m here to help you out, not be your boy toy.”

“Sorry.”

“And you should be.”

She dumped him into a seat. His body tensed in pain and his eyes came back into focus for a moment then blurred again. With his focused vision he got a brief glimpse of the kitchen. It looked like two long picnic tables constructed of the same metal as the walls but with some padding. There were lines along one wall that Joey thought might be cabinets and when June opened one, he was proud of himself for figuring that out.

“June!”

“Look, Vic, I can only do one thing at a time you know.”

“June! Belt in! We need to stop and make another jump. Should be quick this time. Make sure the kid is belted in too.”

June sighed, slammed the cabinet closed, and sat down next to Joey.

“Okay, bud. You’re going to get your first experience with hyperspace.” She pulled a seatbelt-looking device from under the bench seat and buckled herself in. She then pushed a button on the buckle. “This is like a seat belt in a car, but will place a dampening field around you. You’re already sick and this will probably make it worse.” She did the same for Joey and he could do nothing to resist. “Now just try to take deep breaths and relax. We’re going to be doing this a few times I guess. Just go with it. I’ll try to feed you when we’re not making jumps.”

“June!”

“He’s buckled.”

Dampening field? Hyperspace? Those things weren’t real yet she spoke as if they were reality. Why did he push that button?

Joey felt his insides turn outside. If he had eaten anything it would have surely come up. There was a brief sensation of no movement and weightlessness before the lurching sensation happened again.

“Welcome to the Spaceship Acid Rat, bud.”

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Chapter 8

“Argmon! What is taking so long?”

They had been sitting for far too long. Surely that police cruiser was going to be on them at any moment. Vic had thought they’d at least have enough charge in the engines to get them out of the solar system. Sitting in the Kuiper belt they were sitting ducks. At least outside of the system they were in galactic territory and away from the local authorities. They weren’t moving nearly fast enough to get out before they were caught.

“Argmon!”

Argmon snarled and growled.

“I don’t care if you’re doing the best you can. What’s everyone else doing?”

Argmon barked and snorted.

God I hate my crew.-

Vic had been trying to convince Tootsie, the ship’s computer, to let him in to change the ship’s codes.

“Now, Vic, you know I can’t let you do that.”

“Tootsie, do you realize that they’ll arrest you too?”

“I’m a computer. They can’t do anything to me.”

“They can shut you down.”

“I’ve got backup batteries, besides, I didn’t break any laws. I can’t. . .”

“You allowed your codes to be changed once, they’ll know that. Plus, they can remove your backup batteries.”

“Vic, do you really think they’d allow me to be deactivated. I’m a valuable asset.”

Leave it to me to get the only computer in the galaxy with a moral code.

“Please?”

“You’re so sweet, Vic, but no.”

Vic banged his hands on the wall of the ship. “Now look here Tootsie, I don’t have much time. I need you to let me change those codes or I’ll let Mike get in there and we’ll see what he can do.”

Mike was the ship’s engineer and prone to fits of sudden randomness.

There was a long pause from Tootsie. Now he was making some headway.

“Vic, you wouldn’t.”

“Mike!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll change the codes. I don’t feel good about doing it, but I’ll do it.”

“Thanks babe, I owe you one.”

“One what?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll hook you up with a computer dating service computer.”

“Vic!” Tootsie’s electronic voice sounded as if she was actually embarrassed.

Vic landed in his seat and it instantly reformed to his body shape. The view screen still showed the same blank area of space. At least they weren’t spinning anymore. That had gotten old fast.

“So please tell me we’re almost ready to go.”

A speaker crackled overhead with a scratchy voice. “We’re almost ready to go.”

“Great, Mike. How much longer?”

“Five, maybe ten minutes.”

“Mike!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. We’ll be ready to go in one minute.”

“Great. Tootsie, get me on the general con. And how’s it going with changing out numbers?”

“Almost done with the change. You didn’t tell me, but I assumed you wanted me to change them after we jumped.”

“Right, general con please.”

“SS ACID RAT!” the voice over the speakers was loud. Far too loud. It had to be the police. No! It couldn’t be the police. They were so close to getting away. What they’d taken wasn’t even worth that much anyway. At least not on the Bamda planet it wasn’t. Why were these local officers going out of their way to catch him?

“SS ACID RAT! You will cease the charging of your engines. We are en route to your position and we will be arresting you momentarily. If you attempt to flee, we have been given permission from GCP Central Office to give chase. You will not get away.”

Permission from GCP Central Office? That was the Galactic patrol. They never gave any local system permission to leave their own solar system. It had to be a bluff.

“Mike?”

“Almost there, boss. Thirty seconds.”

“We may not have thirty seconds.”

And they didn’t. The police cruiser grew larger in the rear monitor. The ship looked nice with all its blue and gold. Too bad they were being pursued by it and Vic spent little time admiring.

“Mike! Get us out of here. I need what ever we got and I need it now.”

“Boss, if we don’t charge the engines fully, and they aren’t lying about chasing us, we’ll never get away. They’ve got enough power charged to follow us and we wouldn’t be able to change course enough times to get away. Fifteen seconds.”

The port for the tractor beam opened on the police cruiser. This was going to be too close. Vic wanted to shout, but his jaw was locked tight. Argmon had two hands on the wheel and his other two hands ready to hit the buttons at Mike’s word that the engines were fully charged. Vic leaned back into his seat.

It couldn’t have been two seconds before Argmon hit the button when a vaguely familiar sound of rustling leaves followed by charged air wafted to his nose.

“Not again.”

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Chapter 7

Joey’s mind reeled in disbelief. Had this woman, Elsa, just confessed to helping the two people closest to her kill themselves or to their murders? Could it be that she was insane and trying to cleanse her conscious before she died herself? Joey couldn’t do anything except sit with his mouth agape, dumbfounded.

“I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this, but it does feel good to tell someone.”

Joey shook his head. She narrowed her eyes and a thin-lipped smile crossed her face. Her voice quieted to a whisper.

“You don’t believe me. You think I killed them.”

Joey, who’d just taken a sip of his tea, gagged on the hot liquid. He shakily put the cup down.

“Ma’am, I’m not sure…”

“Oh I couldn’t have killed either one of them if I tried.” She sat back with her cup and took a long whiff of the steam. “This was my husband’s favorite.”

“Ma’am.”

“Please, call me Elsa. I already feel old enough without you calling me ‘Ma’am’.”

Joey eyed Elsa and waited. She smiled and it would have been a pretty smile had she teeth in her head. She seemed to be trying to win his trust for some reason.

“I don’t know what to make of this. It’s all quite strange.”

“Do you want to see it?”

“See what?”

“Why, the machine, of course.”

“Wait a minute. You mean there’s really a machine?”

“Certainly. It’s out in the garage. It’s been there just sitting, waiting, ever since Victor used it last.”

She couldn’t be serious. She just couldn’t. A machine to send people into space. Where did these people end up? If you didn’t go into space with at least something like a space suit you’re be sure to end up dead. Elsa, as dear and kind as she seemed, had to be insane.

“I think I should be going.” Joey stood.

Elsa’s shoulders slumped and it looked to be an effort to put her cup back on its saucer. She sniffled and used the handkerchief to dry her eyes again. Why’d she have to do that? Why couldn’t he just leave? All he wanted to do right now was to go home and sleep until his body didn’t hurt anymore.

“Where are you going to go?”

“Home.”

“And after that where will you go?”

“To school like I always do.”

“And is that really what you want out of your life?”

“What else is there?”

“There’s the machine.”

Elsa had stopped crying and fixed Joey with a cold stare. Joey got a chill. She was offering him something. He was sure that’s what she was doing. She was offering the only thing she had. But to what end? Joey would have to wait because if there really was a machine and he could just have a chance to look at it perhaps everything would be different. He could come here instead of to school and study the machine. Wouldn’t that be the best? He could reverse engineer the machine to see how it worked. He could get the machine into the hands of NASA and maybe even get a job working there. He could revolutionize the space industry. He could be a hero.

“Yes!” He swallowed hard. Had he sounded too eager? What if she really was just a crazy old woman who was trying to lure him into the garage so she could kill him? Why would she have bandaged him then? This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. He had to go for it. He just had to.

“Let me find my keys and we’ll go have a look see.”

Elsa got up slowly. Joey also got up. He wanted to help her but his body was still not responding as quickly as he would have liked and even when it did pain would rocket through his limbs albeit not as intensely since she’d given him that minty liquid.

She shuffled across the kitchen and fetched the keys from a wooden box that hung on the wall by the back door. Although the key looked brand new there was something about its style that hinted it was significantly older than it appeared.

Joey opened the back door from the kitchen and held Elsa’s arm as they went down the back steps. They both took the steps gingerly and one at a time. As soon as they were down, a light on the garage came on. Joey was momentarily startled as he hadn’t suspected there would be any light in the back yard.

Much like the inside of the house the back yard was in meticulous condition with a trimmed hedge dividing the yard from the driveway and rows of flowers in the flowerbed. It was something that Joey suspected would have been on one of those old shows his parents would have watched like Father Knows Best or Leave it to Beaver.

“I try to get out here every day and do a little something. Makes me feel like I’m still worth my salt.”

Joey politely chuckled.

Elsa’s aged hand had a little trouble getting the key into the lock. Joey wanted to help her, but didn’t. He tried to show some restraint. He tried to imagine what the machine was going to look like. He tried to picture all the wires and tubes and hoses. Did it have a launch pad or a pod or large computer console? Why couldn’t she just get the door open? Why didn’t she hurry up?

At long last the key slid in and she started to turn it in the lock and stopped. She let out a long breath.

“I don’t think I can go in there.”

“What? Why?”

She didn’t turn and look at him. “I just can’t do this. I lost my only son and my husband to this machine.”

“You don’t know, maybe they’re lost? Maybe there’s something about this machine that we can figure out together. Something to bring them back.”

“I’m sorry, this wasn’t a good idea.”

Elsa turned the key back but before she could pull it free Joey put his hand on hers to stop her.

“We have to at least try, don’t we?”

Elsa turned and looked up at Joey. “Yes. I think we do have to try.”

She unlocked the door and opened it. The hinges squeaked loudly as she pushed it open. Before she stepped into the room she reached in and flipped on the lights. Joey’s imagination exploded when he saw everything covered with white sheets and dust; everything that was, save one piece of equipment.

The one piece that wasn’t covered was a tall cylinder with a mirror-like finish. It reflected the light in every direction. There was a hair-thin line that made the outline of an oval on the front of the machine.

“There it is.”

“Yes, there it is.” Joey’s eyes were wide with wonder as he looked at it. Because everything else was presently covered he didn’t want to ask permission to remove anything, not just yet anyway.

He followed her into the garage. There was only a walkway up to the machine and it looked as though the rest of the room was filled with this machine. It could have just been a trick of all the sheets draped over everything. There was a single set of faint footprints that led up to the machine. Elsa didn’t appear to notice these. Joey assumed they belonged to Victor.

“Joey, I have to ask you something. Please don’t think me a crazy old woman.”

That was asking for a lot at this point, but Joey still had to give her the benefit of the doubt as the machine was here. “Ask.”

“If you should ever decide to, well, to use this machine, and if by the off chance you ever see my Victor or my Hector, could you ask them to come home, even if only for a short time.”

Okay, Joey was now certain that she was completely insane. There was no way that he was going to be using this machine ever. Not until he could figure out what it did and how it worked. He could spend years here studying all the equipment hidden under those sheets, calling to him to lift their shrouds and discover them, to reveal them to the world. That’s what he wanted. But he had to humor Elsa or he’d never get the chance.

“Yes, Elsa, I will.”

They stopped in front of the machine. On the side of the oval door was the silhouette of a button. Joey pushed it. With a gasp of escaping air the door popped out and slid to the side. It didn’t appear to have any hinges and wasn’t attached to anything. It just floated to the side.

“Must be magnetic.”

Cautiously Joey poked his head inside. It was white. Pure white and smelled faintly of a woman’s perfume. It smelled like his mother’s perfume. Joey wrinkled his nose.

“What do you think of it?”

“I think it’s wonderful.” Joey took a step inside. The inside, just like the outside, was perfectly smooth. No seams, no creases, not even a tool mark to show that it was machined.

Joey stepped fully inside and felt the walls. They were warm to the touch. He had thought that being metal and being outside they’d be cold. He turned all the way around and looked out the doorway at Elsa. She was smiling.

“You look so much like Victor did the day…” She trailed off and again dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. Joey gave her an encouraging smile. He was too enamored with the new toy to do anything else or even to say anything.

There was a button on the inside of the door just like the one on the outside. Joey’s finger hovered over it for a moment. Did he dare? What would happen? It had been thirty years since this machine had been used. Could it possibly still work? Joey doubted it. Though there was that fleeting moment of doubt as he remembered that the door had opened.

Joey pushed the button.

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Chapter 6

Aboard the Police Cruiser Apprehension stood a stocky man dressed in a clean-pressed uniform. His chest bore several medals and a large, gold badge. Atop his head was a broad-brimmed hat. His eyes were covered with mirrored sunglasses and he held an unlit cigar in his mouth.

Sheriff B.T. Justice watched as the SS Acid Rat disappeared off the view port. It had stretched out into the distance and vanished. He gnawed on the end of his cigar for a moment. They’d gotten away. They’d left his jurisdiction.

“I hope someone has gotten their trajectory.”

Three officers snapped their mouths closed and turned back to their consoles and typed furiously. Sheriff Justice wasn’t one to joke and he was more dangerous when he didn’t scream.

He tapped a riding crop against his leg. Even though he’d never ridden a horse in his life was no reason for him not to have a riding crop. It made a great tool for discipline of his crew.

“Junior!”

A portly lad who looked to be a twin of B.T. Justice ,minus the hat, medals, sunglasses, cigar and about thirty year, sprang from a nearby chair and saluted the Sheriff.

“Yes, Dad?”

“Junior, I want you to get on the con, better yet, I want you to get someone else to get on the con and contact the GCP Central Office. I need to travel outside my jurisdiction.”

“But, you can’t do that.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. I am your father and I am your superior. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes sir.”

That’s what the sheriff wanted; order. Even if he had to raise his voice to get it, he was going to get cooperation.

A young, bright faced officer turned around. “I’ve got them?”

How rude. “You’ve got them what?”

The officer swallowed and eyed the riding crop. “I’ve got them, sir.”

“Much better. Where are they?”

“They’re sitting just outside our solar system. If we can get close enough, we can use the tractor beam and not leave our jurisdiction.”

“Now how close is close? We are the law and we’re not going to be breaking any galatic laws just to catch one criminal.”

The officer turned back to his console and studied the screen for several second.

“Come on, boy! We don’t have all day. I’m sure they’re not just sitting there and waiting for us to get over there and catch them. I need numbers.”

“Yes sir. It looks like they’re still inside the Kuiper belt. They haven’t officially left our jurisdiction yet.”

“Junior!”

The portly officer returned.

“Yes dad.”

“Do you have anyone on the con yet?”

“Office Branfurd is on the con. He’s getting in touch with the GCP office.”

The GCP was the Galactic Central Point office. They were the central of all authority in the galaxy. No one did anything without first consulting the GCP office. Even B.T. Justice wasn’t about to go against their rulings. He ground his teeth into his cigar and narrowed his eyes as if that would help him see the SS Acid Rat sitting just on the edge of his system.

“Let’s get out there. I want to see if we can catch him before he takes off. If we can’t, I want the GCP officer in command on the line to issue a pursuit warrant for the entire crew of the SS Acid Rat.”

Sheriff Justice strode along the walkway between the consoles where officers scanned screens and typed on keyboards in preparation with another confrontation with the criminals. He would smile, but he didn’t want to appear overly confident. He wasn’t even sure who piloted the ship. He only knew the person must be crafty. Crafty enough to slip his grasp. He wasn’t going to let it happen twice.

“Daddy!”

“Junior, how many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“Sorry daddy, sir. Sir We’ve got GCP on the con.”

“Keep them on hold. Let’s go catch those lawbreakers.”

“Yes sir.”

“Pilot, why aren’t we out there yet?”

“The light speed engines are still charging.”

“We’re not making a jump that far. I want us in the Kuiper belt and I want us there now.”

Justice swatted the man on the shoulder with the riding crop. There was more than one way to motivate this crew and physical violence was one.

The view screen blurred and the Police Ship Apprehension, B.T. Justice’s pride and joy, jumped to the Kuiper belt.

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Chapter 5

Elsa finished working on Joey’s wounds and even wrapped his wrist with an ace bandage. She’d been right about it being sprained. After two more sticks soaked in the mint-flavored liquid Joey felt good as new; until he stood up.

His body felt a little stiff, but the pain was muted enough for him to function. Elsa closed up the medical kit, picked up her stool and scooted back down the hallway. Joey peeked around the corner, but with little light it was difficult to see where she’d gone. He assumed the kitchen wasn’t that way and didn’t want to offend the nice lady after the attention she’d given him.

After a short bit she came shuffling back into the room and smiled at him.

“Let’s go into the kitchen and make some tea.”

She shuffled her way across the room and through the open doorway. Joey thought he passed through a time warp and into his grandmother’s kitchen straight from the fifties. All the appliances were olive green and looked brand new, the floor was covered in a yellow, flower-patterned linoleum, and the counters were tiled in pink. It was an offensive clash of colors.

Elsa picked up a white tea pot from the stove, it had fighting chickens or roosters on the side, and went to the sink to fill it. Once it was full she returned to the stove, lit a match and got a fire going under the tea pot. She fetched a ceramic tea set from a cabinet. Joey noticed it was the only thing inside that particular cabinet as if it had been waiting there all along for her to come in and use it.

“Please, sit down.”

Joey sat at the small table that was positioned in one corner of the kitchen. Its window was covered with the same heavy drapery and lace curtains. She set one cup in front of him and one on the opposite side of the table.

“Do you take cream with your tea?”

Joey had never had tea in his life. Should he say yes? Would she get offended if he didn’t? What was the right answer?

“Uh…sure.”

“I don’t have heavy cream, so would you prefer milk or half and half?” Her serene smile and the way she folded her hands to her chest made Joey think of a doting old lady waiting on a grandchild.

“Milk is fine.” Joey looked down at the empty tea cup and then back up at Elsa and remembered his manners. “Please.”

“Very well.”

By the time she made it to the refrigerator and back the teapot started to whistle. As it sat on the stove and hollered for her to retrieve it she placed several tea bags into a small white pot and left the lid off. She emptied the contents of the kettle into the pot and placed the lid on it. She finally sat down once the kettle was returned back to the stove.

“You’ve got a strong face.”

“Huh?” Joey had been entranced by the steam rising from the spout of the tea pot.

“I said ‘you’ve got a strong face.’ You remind me a lot of my son, Victor.”

“So why don’t you talk to him anymore?”

Elsa poured tea and sighed. There was a deep rattle in her chest as she spoke. Joey hadn’t heard it before.

“As I told you, it’s really my fault. He was such a headstrong boy. I tried to keep him out of trouble as much as I just wanted to raise him right, can you understand that?”

“Sure.”

“You see, he always wanted to go places. He never wanted to be a good boy and just stay home. I’ve seen you ride by on your bike before and with your scraggly hair and all.” She waved a finger at him. “I can’t help but feel like you two are a lot alike. Are you like that?”

“Headstrong you mean? I guess I never really thought of it before. I mean I get it into my head I want to do something and I just do it. Is that what you mean?”

“Do you always listen to your parents? Do what they say when they say? I suspect you’re a good boy, but you’ve got your own ideas.”

“Well, yes.”

“Do you ever get that feeling like no one understands you?”

“Well, my friend Carlos does.”

“So one person in the great big world understands what you’re all about.”

Joey had to think had about that. Sure he and Carlos were friends, but Carlos, along with the excessive record collection, also collected comics, books, movies, darned near anything he could get his hands on. His parents had converted their basement for him and had told him he could live there as long as he wanted to. Joey’s parents wouldn’t even get him a used car so he could get around easier and they expected him to know what he wanted to do once he graduated high school.

“No. I guess he really doesn’t understand me either.”

“My Victor was the same way. He only had one friend and though they did everything together, Victor was happier with his dog down in the park playing fetch and day dreaming. He also spent a lot of time down at the Astronaut Academy when it was downtown. He dreamed of going into space, but the men there would always tell him he wasn’t fit enough or he was too small.”

“That must’ve been tough. When was that Academy there?”

Elsa’s eyes misted over. “Around the same time Victor left.”

“But where did he go?”

“I knew he wanted to go into space so badly. Oh, I shouldn’t tell you these things.”

But she was telling him. This woman looked as though she hadn’t changed anything in her house since sometime in that late fifties or sixties. How long ago could it have been? It just occurred to Joey that there was no radio or television in the house or at least not one that he could see.

“Elsa?”

She wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry, Joey. It’s been so long. It was back in sixty-four. Victor’s father, Hector, had built a machine. Hector worked at the academy. He brought work home with him all the time. It was a promise he made to Victor. One day Hector disappeared, but his dreadful machine was still there.”

“A machine? You’re confusing me.”

“He built a machine to send himself into space. He built it for Victor, but he tested it on himself.”

“He built a rocket?”

“Heaven’s no. This was much different.” Tears were streaming down Elsa’s face. “He called it a transporter. I have no idea where it transported him to, but obviously he never found his way back.”

“Hector transported himself into space? How did he know where he was going to end up?”

“I don’t think he ever knew that. All I know is that every day since the day Hector left I’ve gone out to that garage to see where Hector is and why he hasn’t returned. It’s been such a difficult life, but being that Hector worked for the government, I’ve been able to manage on his pension and life insurance. I’ve never told anyone that he had that awful machine in the garage for fear that’d take that part of him from me.”

“But, Elsa.” Joey leaned in closer. All thought of his pain had gone. He had to know. “What happened to Victor?”

Elsa pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her house dress and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

“In seventy-two, I showed him where his father went.”

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Chapter 4

Joey lifted his head. Blood stained the sidewalk where his face had been. He licked his teeth and at least they were all still in his head. He wiped his face with his jacket sleeve. He was bleeding badly, but that was to be expected from a head wound. His eyes came in and out of focus. He knew once they did the real pain would start.

He got on his hands and knees, and then wished he hadn’t. From the angle he flew at the sidewalk he’d struck it hard and rolled several times. His hands were all scraped up from trying to stop himself and his knees were poking through fresh holes in his jeans. As he sat on the grass he checked to see if any of the cuts on his face were really bad. They weren’t. All were minor, but he’d banged his head really hard and he felt a headache brewing.

His backpack! He’d rolled over onto it. Several times in fact. He winced as he took the pack off and had to shrug it off his shoulder. There wasn’t a square protrusion inside any longer. He shook it and could hear the pieces of vinyl rattle together. It was in at least twenty different pieces. Scratches Carlos could fix. This, well, no one was ever going to be able to fix this. He tossed the pack to the curb.

Joey got up and groaned. He wasn’t going to cry. No one liked to see a groaning man cry. He hurt all over. He cursed Brad under his breath because it hurt too much to do anything else.

The bike lay in the gutter, the front wheel still lodged in the storm drain, but the rest of it had twisted off and smacked into a parked car.

“I should just walk away.”

Joey looked at the bike. There was no way he’d be able to carry it home. He would have a hard enough time getting himself home. He was going to hear it from his mom and dad about how he needed to control his temper and not get too stirred up over such a minor thing. They just didn’t get it. They never would.

In fact no one understood him. Least of all those jerks Brad, Chad, and Thad. Joey wasn’t even sure if they had last names but he was sure they would be equally as lame. Carlos understood him and they spent a lot of time together. Perhaps they’d spent too much time together. They were prone to getting into trouble when they weren’t actually working on something.

“Young man!”

The voice came from a woman who waddled down the front walk of the house he’d crashed in front of. She was short, even shorter than his grandmother, and old, even older than his grandmother. She wasn’t wearing her teeth, that was easy to see from the shortened jaw line. Her house dress was something straight out of the sixties; brown with large orange flowers. Even the pink fuzzy slippers she wore helped define the lady’s agedness. She had to be at least eighty.

She wrinkled her face when she got closer and looked him up and down. “I was watching out my window when it happened. Come inside and let me help you get cleaned up. No sense in you heading off in the shape you’re in.”

“I’m fine.”

Joey winced when she tugged on his arm. It was easier to just follow her in rather than be pulled at. At least she didn’t walk quickly.

“I’ll have no argument about it. You’re bleeding all over the place.”

She handed him a towel which he used to sop up the blood on his face and then hold it to the general area where it hurt the most. He had to say something.

“Um… thanks.”

“Thank me later when we figure out what all is wrong with you. Probably got a sprained wrist at least. I see you’re up so I doubt you broke anything. Fancy flying you did, but you need to work on your landings.”

He was going to say thanks again, but the walking was taking a toll on his body. Now that he was moving he could feel each scrape, scratch, and bruise. His head throbbed with the pounding pace of a Metallica concert.

“So what’s your name? You’ve got to have a name before I let you in my house.”

The old woman stopped on the stoop of the house and looked up at Joey. Even though he was slouched at the shoulders he was still a good foot taller than the woman. Her eyes were bright and intelligent and pale blue. A deep line creased her forehead as she furrowed her brow. Not at all what he was expecting in a rescuer. What had he been expecting? Certainly not this woman to come to his rescue that’s for sure.

“Joey.”

“Joey. That’s a good name. A very fine name indeed. Well, come inside. Let’s get you all fixed up. I think you’re going to need stitches on the cut across your eye there. I’ve got everything to do it if you’re not squeamish. Come in. Come in.”

She opened the door and led Joey inside the house. The inside smelled of fresh apple cider and cherry blossoms. It had an instant healing effect on his psyche as he was wafted back on memories of his grandparents on his father’s side. In the winter she would always make apple cider and he would warm his hands on the mug before he would take a sip to warm his insides.

The house was much smaller than it appeared to have been from the outside, but it made a certain sense though. She was a small woman and having everything scaled down would have been helpful.

She seated him in a large, high-backed chair that had a large, lace doily across its back. With a gentle push she eased him into it.

“You just sit right there while I get what’s good for you. I know just what you need that’ll fix you right up.”

Joey smiled at her. “What’s your name? I don’t recall ever seeing you around the neighborhood.”

“Elsa Gallegos. Call me Elsa. Now just stay put and I’ll go get my medical kit.”

Medial kit? Whoever called it that? Joey didn’t care as long as she had something in there that would take this throbbing in his head away.

He looked for something to put his feet up on, but there was no coffee table or stool in the room. There was, however, a large cabinet filled with hundreds, no, thousands of tiny figurines. At first glance they looked like chess pieces from a fancy chess game, but there were far too many of each. There were gladiators, knights, army men. In fact it looked as if everyone of the pieces was a fighting man of some kind. Even boxers.

The room was decorated with heavy draperies covered over with lace curtains. Each chair and couch had a lace doily draped over its back. The flower patterns on the furniture was all mismatched and clashing in color. Nothing even matched the maroon, shag carpet.

Elsa returned with a medical kit alright. It wasn’t a box, but a large case with legs. She also brought with her a small stool. Joey wanted to get up and help her but she shushed him when he tried to sit up.

“Just stay put. I may be slow, but I’ll get you taken care of no matter how long it takes.”

Joey chuckled then winced.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Well, isn’t that what people are supposed to do? Help each other out?”

“Not if you ask Brad, Chad, and Thad.”

“And who are they?”

“The guys in the car.”

“Oh. Them. I didn’t figure they were any friends of yours.”

Joey sucked air between his teeth as she touched an iodine dipped rag to his temple. She held his chin up and didn’t let him shirk back.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s no trouble. I was a little lonely and it’s nice to have company. I just wish it were under different circumstance. It’s not often anyone comes to visit me.”

“Don’t you have any children?” Joey’s eyes wandered around the room and didn’t notice any pictures of family.

“My son went off on his own a long time ago. I’m sure he’s doing well. I wonder if he ever got married.”

Joey tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean? Don’t you talk to your son anymore?”

“I haven’t been able to talk to him in over forty years.”

“What kind of son leaves home and doesn’t talk to his parents in forty years.” Joey was mad at his parents, but he could never imagine never speaking to them again.

“Oh, it’s not his fault. It’s mine really.”

Elsa finished cleaning and dressing the wound on Joey’s head. She put a stick that had been soaking in some liquid into his mouth. It tasted strongly of peppermint, but instantly took away the terrible pounding in his head.

“If you’d like to hear that story, I think it’d be best over tea. Do you have time to stay for a while and chat with an old woman? It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone to talk to.” She said this without ever looking up from the work she was doing on Joey’s knees. She cleaned each carefully and bandaged each. Joey felt obliged. He had been planning on staying at Carlos’s until late in the evening so why not here.

“Sure. I’d love to hear about your son.”

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Chapter 3

The brisk air blew through Joey’s hair. It was only mid October and the leaves had mostly fallen off the trees. Joey had spent most of the weekend in the yard raking leaves when he’d rather have been getting the turntable working. Now all he wanted to do was take the Iron Butterfly album to Carlos’s house and see if there was any way to repair it.

He’d placed the album into a backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Walking would help him work his anger out, but he instead went around to the garage and got out his mountain bike. How ironic was it to have a mountain bike in suburban San Diego? It wasn’t like he could find a mountain anywhere nearby.

He did a quick check before heading out. He had his house keys, his pocket knife, wallet.

“My sunglasses! Dang.”

Even though it was already quite dark outside, he still liked having them with him. They weren’t in his jacket. He’d just have to make do without them. Deep down he’d planned on staying the night at Carlos’s house just to tick his parents off. He could still stay there.

Right now he didn’t want to see his mom. Dad was almost as bad as her with his trying to fix the problem with money. This wasn’t something that money could fix. This was weeks of his life that he’d given up in pursuit of something and to have them just dismiss it like he was being an over-reacting child.

Am I over reacting?

Joey pedaled out onto the street. The rows of skeletal trees backlight by the reddish-orange glow of the streetlights was disturbing. This time of the year many of the houses bore strange Halloween decorations and lights, but no one was outside. He let a chill slide down his spine, shivered, and picked up the pace. Carlos’s house was nearly a mile away and it wasn’t going to get any warmer.

The only sound on the street, besides the background noise of the freeway a quarter-mile away, was the sound of his bike. His shadow waxed and waned as he passed by each streetlight. Maybe he should have just stayed home. This close to Halloween there could be weirdoes out. The quiet was almost as disturbing as the nearly-full moon in the clear night sky.

No wonder it was so cold. There weren’t any clouds. Orion’s belt was slightly distorted by branches, but above the middle of the street the Big Dipper was easy to see. Along with studying how to fix things, he and Carlos were also members of the local amateur astronomy club. Despite the fact that light pollution made view any but the brightest stars possible, they still had fun.

The front tire of Joey’s bike smashed into a pothole. For a moment he was unseated as the rear of the bike lurched into the air. He was going to fall to the pavement. That’s all he needed right now was to land on the pavement, get all scraped up and go running back home to mom all hurt.

With gritted teeth he managed to hold onto the handlebars and bring himself down along side the bike. He teetered for a moment but didn’t let go of the bike. If he had, they would both have fallen into the middle of the street.

“Stupid! Pay attention to where you’re going. Get your head out of the stars.”

The front tire was wedged. Joey felt it and it wasn’t flat. That was one little blessing. He rocked the tire back and forth and was able to get it free without damaging it. He’d been going slow enough and that probably kept him from falling over as well.

Joey pedaled on.

Now he was angry with himself. This was supposed to be a good day. He was supposed to be listening to a fifteen minute long song with heavy bass, growling lyrics, and an incredible drum solo. He had the Frampton Comes Alive album and that was cool, but neither he nor Carlos had been able to get their hands on an Iron Butterfly album. Not the original.

His elongating shadow in the orange light disappeared for a moment in a bright white light. A car approached slowly from behind him and came along side. A hand reached out and took hold of the handle bars; a hand that was attached to an arm in a letterman jacket.

“Evening Joe.”

It was Chad. In the car with him were Brad and Thad. One of them was bad enough, but all three together spelled disaster. Not one of them saw guys like Joey as anything other than existing for entertainment purposes.

Joey still had a scar on his hand from when he’d been shoved in his locker and tried to keep it from getting shut by putting his hand in the way. That’d been two years ago and his persecution continued. Mainly due to his small stature compared to all the overdeveloped jocks.

“So where you off to? It’s dark outside. I thought mommy and daddy didn’t let you out after dark.”

Brad and Thad laughed and tossed empty beer cans at Joey. With Chad’s hand on the handle bars it was difficult to maintain his balance. At least the bastard wasn’t speeding up.

“What…what do you want, Chad?”

Chad gasped as if he was offended. “Why should I want anything? I just thought you’d like a hand where ever you were going.”

“I don’t need any help. Thanks.”

Joey’s voice quavered and he struggled to keep the handlebars steady.

“Hey guys, what do you say we see how fast Joey’s bike will go?”

There were cheers and more beer cans thrown. Chad stomped down on the gas pedal and Joey had to fight to keep himself upright on his seat. If he fell off Brad was sure to destroy the bike. Joey wasn’t about to let that happen.

Cautiously he removed one hand and prepared to punch Chad’s hand and get it off his bike. Before he could focus he saw headlights in front of him.

“Whoa!” Chad swerved to keep Joey from getting hit. The idiot was an asshole, not a murderer.

“Let go of my bike!”

“What do you think guys? Should I let him go?”

Chad never did any thinking on his own when he was with Brad and Thad.

“Let him go!”

There were no more beer cans this time. They must be out of empties. At least they didn’t throw any full beers.

“See you later Joe!”

Chad didn’t just let go of the handlebars, he instead gave Joey a push sideways.

Joey pressed on the brakes, but he was going too fast to stop in time. He was headed for a storm drain. All he could think as he saw the front tire disappear into the drain and he launched over the handlebar toward the sidewalk was…

Damn this is going to hurt.

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Part 1: Into the Great Unknown

Chapter 1

“Argmon! Power to the rear shields! Sensors detected they’re charging to fire at us.”

Vic didn’t watch to see if Argmon had completed the task; he knew it would be done. Argmon, after all, was a four-armed, bipedal, dog-like being called a Shathar, that piloted the SS Acid Rat. Vic knew Argmon was great at taking orders, even if he was a little temperamental at times.

They had precious little time to prepare. Vic adjusted controls that would keep the ship from veering out of control once they were struck. His plan was simple: use the blast’s impact to change course and jump to hyperspace before a second shot could be fired or their course projected. They would then be safely away and could change course once they were out of the solar system.

Their pursuers were, as had been their misfortune to have been detected, the fuzz. Despite their caution in getting the ship loaded, and following all the proper procedures in taking off from the planet, even with false confirmation codes, had done them no good. Someone had tipped the authorities off, and now they needed to get away.

“This is going to cost Verbiddi extra.”

Argmon growled a deep, husky affirmation. Vic looked at him. The pilot’s cream-colored hair bristled out, making him look much larger.

“Hey! Calm down and get ready for this impact. We’ll only get one chance at this. I don’t think we could take a second hit from a star class police cruiser. I think it’s a newer model, because they’re still charging, and it looks like it’s going to be one helluva hit.”

Argmon shuddered, and focused his attention on the controls; two hands on the helm and two hands on the controls to take the ship into hyperspace. Vic fastened his seat belt. He hoped the rest of the crew was already secured. There wasn’t time to make a general announcement, but they knew about the pursuit.

“Here it comes.”

The blast hit high on the starboard side. Stars blurred by as did the planet. The hit caused them to circle about out of control. Vic had to take his eyes off the view port and concentrate on the controls. He started hitting mini-thrusters and making adjustments while Argmon slowed the ship.

A warning light went off blinking blue then green.

“Tractor beam! We’ve got to move.”

Argmon chuffed.

“I don’t care if we’re still spinning. We’ve slowed down. Make the jump the next time you see the planet go by. Just a short blast to get us out of here. If we get caught we’ll definitely not get paid.”

The stars slowed considerably, but it was obviously the intent of the police cruiser to knock them out of control and thereby preventing a jump hyperspace. Vic couldn’t recall if the planet they were leaving had moons or not, but there was no more time to worry about that. It was time to jump.

The planet swung into view along with the blue and gold police cruiser. A port on its massive underside opened in preparation to engulf the SS Acid Rat and haul them back to the planet. Would there be a trail or would they get out of this one?

“Get ready, Argmon. Wait for it. Wait for it!” The planet flashed by. “Hit it!”

The engines hadn’t charged enough or they would have tipped off the police cruiser to their plans. The engines had only enough juice stored for a quick burst. They could be at least two light years away with time to charge the engines for a longer burst and be on their way. They would have to make three or four more stops to ensure they weren’t followed, and then they could head back and drop off the shipment.

God I love this job.

Chapter 2

Joey Provoski held the soldering iron carefully and lowered it ever so slowly to the junction of the resistor lead and the circuit board. A tiny wisp of smoke drifted up and into the air as the solder melted, its internal flux core melting away and leaving a shiny joining. Joey smiled.

He placed the iron on his work bench. It was really his desk and he was supposed to be finishing up his homework, but he was a high-school senior — he was also eighteen and capable of making his own decisions — and he didn’t feel he needed to finish it just yet. There was plenty of time. It wasn’t even seven. Why should he stress out about getting homework done when he could be fixing his grandfather’s old turntable?

If there was one thing Joey loved more than fixing things, especially electronic things such as televisions, radios, and record players, it was listening to music. When his grandfather had passed away he’d left Joey all his old stereo equipment as well as his entire record collection. Most of it consisted of great bands from the sixties and seventies. If he had a choice, he’d throw away his mp3 player and listen to records all the time.

But this turntable hadn’t been working properly. That’s what Joey was doing up in his room instead of homework. The last parts were in place and it was ready to try it out. He had several other turntables and record players he could play this particular album on, but this turntable and record belonged to his grandfather and he wasn’t going to put the album on just any old record player.

“Come on. Work this time. I really want to hear Iron Butterfly.”

All he’d ever been able to download was In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida and he really wanted to hear the entire album the way the band had put it out all those years ago. All the pathetic remixes and remakes of the song made him squirm.

“Give me the original vinyl.”

Joey plugged in the turntable and ran the cord to the tuner module. The speakers were already hooked up and ready to start pumping out the sounds.

The album was still in perfect condition despite his grandfather purchasing the original in 1968. In his hands was a piece of American History if there ever was one. The first platinum album ever. The biggest band of their era. The best sound anyone had ever heard. Finally after all the weeks he’d spent rebuilding the turntable, after all the trouble he’d gone through to find all the replacements parts, most of which could not be found at the local Radio Shack, and after all the care he put into making sure all the albums were preserved since his grandfather’s passing, he was finally going to be able to listen to the album.

The turntable spun smoothly and quietly. Along the side were rows of dots. He manually adjusted the speed by picking the correct set of dots in a slim band of light until it looked like those dots stood still.

The adjustments were made and he pulled the black album from its sleeve. He was careful not to touch anything but the sides and he slid the record over the middle spindle and watched as it started spinning. He lifted the needle and placed it ever so carefully onto the starting groove and all he could think was This is groovy, man.

The speakers hissed and filled the room with pending anticipation of the opening notes. Joey sat back in the bean bag that sat in the middle of his room, smoothed back his shaggy blond hair and …

And his mother, Alice, burst through the door with a loaded laundry basket and banged the door into the desk causing the needle to bounce and scratch its way across the record. It got caught on “…in a godda…in a godda…in a godda…”

“Mom! What are you doing!”

Joey struggled to spring from the bean bag, cursed, and rolled out of it in a vain attempt to save the album. He wanted to scream at her. He wanted to cry over the album. He wanted to… he wanted to… what?

“Honey, I’m just bringing you your laundry. You could be a little nicer you know. Oh! I see you got that old turntable working. You know that thing was in your grandfather’s garage for, oh my gosh, I don’t know, at least the past twenty years. That and all those God awful records he used to listen to. Oh the days he’d sit and listen; I’d usually just go out and ride my bike.”

“Mom! You ruined the album I was about to listen to!”

She had to understand how important this was, didn’t she? She’d just ruined a piece of history. It was forever ruined. Joey lifted the needle and dropped it back into the holder. He switched off the turntable and tried to asses the damage.

“Hey! Did I hear music coming from this room?”

Joey’s dad, Joey Sr., wasn’t much into music, but at least he hadn’t burst into the room and spoiled the moment of victory. He could at least fake interest in what his son was doing.

“Yeah, but mom bumped the desk and now the record is scratched.”

“Well let’s go down to the music shop and we’ll pick it up on CD. It’ll be much better quality than that old record. Those things have got to be what, twenty, thirty years old?”

“It’s not that simple, dad. This was an original album. I’ve got the CD. I’ve got it ripped to mp3 on my mp3 player. I’ve heard the digitally re-mastered re-mixed clear as a bell version. I wanted to hear the original. I wanted to hear what the band made it sound like way back in the day. Can’t you understand that?”

Joey shook his head as he looked at the album. It was never going to be the same again and so many people had thrown out their old records or not taken care of them that he was certain he’d never find a pristine one such as this again. Never. His mom had ruined it and his father didn’t have the slightest clue as to just how important it was.

“Honey, can you give Joey and I a moment?”

Alice, who’d all but ignored Joey’s outburst and had been folding laundry stopped and narrowed her eyes at Joey Sr. and huffed a sigh. She gave each of them a peck on the cheek and left the room.

“Joey, you know your mom didn’t intend any harm, right?”

“I know, but I’ve been working on this for three weeks now. I really wanted to hear this album and now it’s ruined.”

Joey Sr. put his hand on Joey’s shoulder. “This is just one reason why people stopped buying albums. I can’t tell you the number of times I had a record get scratched. Why when I was your age…”

“Dad, that’s not the point. The point is that I had an album that I really wanted to listen to and you and mom keep going on and on about your good old days. This record was from the good old days and it was in great shape. Grandpa really took care of his albums and I wanted to share in that piece of history.”

“But didn’t you do that by getting this turntable to work?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t even get to listen to one album before the experience was ruined. How am I supposed to get that back?”

“I really think you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Joey sighed. Perhaps he was, but then again perhaps his dad was just trying to downplay what had happened.

“I think I’m going to go for a ride on my bike. I think Carlos might have something to fix this with.”

“Carlos? You’re not still hanging out with him are you?”

Joey bit his lip. He and Carlos had gotten in trouble for shoplifting the year before and they weren’t supposed to be hanging out together anymore. Joey couldn’t help himself. Carlos was his best friend after all. Plus he had a massive collection of albums too. That’s why they’d become such good friends.

“Well, we haven’t really.” Joey slipped the scratched record into its sleeve.

“Joey.”

“Dad, just because he and I got into trouble doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy. Do you think I’m a bad guy?”

“Well, no.”

“See?”

“Joey, that’s not the point. Your mother and I told you not to hang out with him any more. He’s a bad influence on you.”

“I’m eighteen, dad. I can make my own choices.”

Joey grabbed his jean jacket off his bed and stormed out the door.

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