Matt
Dude, I had not asked a stupid question! It was a very rational inquiry that deserved speculation! Right?
Anyway, Kestrel and Ox were giving us a very long once-over, and I was starting to get a little uncomfortable. I asked, "What do you mean?"
Cara gave one of her 'That was a really dumb question, Matt' sighs which annoy me so much, and said, "They're not sure they can trust us. They think it's suspicious that we turned up so suddenly. Isn't that right?" The question was directed towards the men. Both nodded.
"S-s-so, what are you going to do with us?" asked Lucy, turning pale.
"Well, if you're just kids, you should be sent home. This is no place for you. But if you turn out to be enemy spies or something-"
"You'll kill us?" I concluded.
"No, probably just tie you up and leave you somewhere."
"Don't you have a lie detector machine or something you can use to test us, see if we're innocent?" asked Cara.
Ox and Kestrel looked at each other, then back at us. The Ox said, "We do, but we don't have it with us. Sadly, it's back at our center of operations."
"Dang," muttered Cara.
Just then, the strange redheaded woman who'd come in and fallen asleep woke up. She looked at a wristwatch, and said, "Time to go."
Showing posts with label Matt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Matt. Show all posts
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Freegans part 37
Lucy's parents were frantic. Ever since Danielle had run home, sobbing, and told them that the kids had been carried off by the consumerists, they had been worried. They had heard nothing for two weeks. McTavish had sent out spies, and surveillance tapes, but hadn't been able to discover anything. Then three days ago, he'd gotten a report that the president and vice president were very agitated about something, and that several of their troops had gone suddenly missing. Lucy's dad suspected that the kids had done something to throw a monkey wrench into the works, and were now being hunted. While this gave a sign that they were still alive, it upset them still, because it also meant they were in a heap of trouble.
Ever since Matt had disappeared, his dad had sobered up, and appeared to realize that he really did love his son. Now, instead of lying around all day in a drunken state, he moped around the Freegan village, murmuring about how everyone he cared about left him. It was really a sad thing to see.
Matt's dad finally went back to his camp that night, feeling alone and dejected. He'd gone to Mr. McTavish and asked permission to try and go find his son, but McTavish had politely (but firmly) brushed him off, stating that they didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. He thought this was unfair; this was his kid they were talking about, for crying out loud! He needed to find him, make sure he was okay! This was something that could finally give him a purpose, after so many years of being in a drunken stupor. He considered ignoring the order and going after Matt anyway. Yes! That would work! Nobody was going to try and tell him not to save his own son!
As he went into his hut to get some supplies, he found a paper lying on his table. Unaware that a similar note was being read at this moment by Lucy and Cara's family, he picked it up. It said:
Your child has been found, and is in safe hands. Please don't worry. We will try and get him to you as soon as possible.
The note wasn't signed. Instead, there was a peculiar spiral shape, almost like a tornado.
Ever since Matt had disappeared, his dad had sobered up, and appeared to realize that he really did love his son. Now, instead of lying around all day in a drunken state, he moped around the Freegan village, murmuring about how everyone he cared about left him. It was really a sad thing to see.
Matt's dad finally went back to his camp that night, feeling alone and dejected. He'd gone to Mr. McTavish and asked permission to try and go find his son, but McTavish had politely (but firmly) brushed him off, stating that they didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. He thought this was unfair; this was his kid they were talking about, for crying out loud! He needed to find him, make sure he was okay! This was something that could finally give him a purpose, after so many years of being in a drunken stupor. He considered ignoring the order and going after Matt anyway. Yes! That would work! Nobody was going to try and tell him not to save his own son!
As he went into his hut to get some supplies, he found a paper lying on his table. Unaware that a similar note was being read at this moment by Lucy and Cara's family, he picked it up. It said:
Your child has been found, and is in safe hands. Please don't worry. We will try and get him to you as soon as possible.
The note wasn't signed. Instead, there was a peculiar spiral shape, almost like a tornado.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Freegans part 4
Matt
It's about time that I got my chance to speak. Girls always have this annoying habit of monopolizing the conversation, and not allowing you to get a word in edge-ways. The only one I've met yet who doesn't do that is Cara. In fact, she hardly ever says anything. That's probably why she's one of my best friends. She doesn't talk too much.
Regardless, I woke up the next morning raring to go. I left a note for Dad on the table, since he was still asleep with a bad hangover. He is without a doubt the worst Freegan, and the biggest drunk, I have ever met. It's a wonder that we're related. I went down to Cara and Lucy's house, and found them finishing breakfast. I thought of pulling my police trick again, but decided that I didn't want to have my nose broken. Even though they're tiny, Cara has some of the hardest fists in the world. Lucy's aren't too bad either.
We went off to the dump, with Danielle running ahead. She was seriously deluding herself thinking that she was going to find any red tap shoes, unless they had some sequins broken off, or something. Gas-guzzlers rarely throw stuff away unless a catastrophe like that happens. The three of us walked together like civilized people. We didn't have much to say, so I mostly just thought (believe it or not, I actually do think sometimes). I remembered what Lucy's parents had been talking about last night, about Mr. McTavish trying to get more gas-guzzlers to join us. It's not as impossible as it seems; once every few years there actually are a few kind, generous, intelligent city people born who care about the environment. But not very often. It's almost like President Sheldon brainwashes everyone into shopaholics and morons.
At the dump, we began to search around, looking for anything else useful or cool. I picked up some weird contraption that looked kind of like a multi-armed miniature windmill with paintbrushes on the ends. "What's this for?" I asked aloud.
"I think that's used to paint your nails," said Lucy. Both Cara and I made disgusted faces at the notion. For those of you who haven't noticed, Cara's not really a girly-girl. I chucked the nail-painter back on the pile, and picked up an old hairbrush with a few bristles moving. I was considering it, when I noticed Cara's newest find. She had lifted up out of the junk a pair of silvery boots. The outsides were made of metal, but the insides were apparently very soft. There were strange circles on the bottoms. Her green eyes were wide with awe.
"I'm keeping these," she abruptly announced. With that, she took off her old sneakers and slipped the boots on. They fit pretty good.
Just then Danielle called to us excitedly. "Hey, look at this!" We ran up, to see her pointing at the top of a particular heap of junk. There was a little toy dog sitting there, head cocked to the side, almost like a real dog. "Isn't it cute?" Danielle cooed. All three of us automatically rolled our eyes. Danielle started forward, scrambling up the heap. It was then that I noticed there was a lead attached to the dog. That instantly set my radar on alert. Why would anyone bother to tie up a toy dog? I could tell that Lucy was concerned too, because she started forward. "Um, Dani? I don't think you should-" She got no further. As soon as her sister lifted the dog, a loud twang was heard, and a big net appeared out of the sky. Acting on instinct, we ran up, pushing Danielle out of the way in time, only to get caught ourselves! We were trapped!
It's about time that I got my chance to speak. Girls always have this annoying habit of monopolizing the conversation, and not allowing you to get a word in edge-ways. The only one I've met yet who doesn't do that is Cara. In fact, she hardly ever says anything. That's probably why she's one of my best friends. She doesn't talk too much.
Regardless, I woke up the next morning raring to go. I left a note for Dad on the table, since he was still asleep with a bad hangover. He is without a doubt the worst Freegan, and the biggest drunk, I have ever met. It's a wonder that we're related. I went down to Cara and Lucy's house, and found them finishing breakfast. I thought of pulling my police trick again, but decided that I didn't want to have my nose broken. Even though they're tiny, Cara has some of the hardest fists in the world. Lucy's aren't too bad either.
We went off to the dump, with Danielle running ahead. She was seriously deluding herself thinking that she was going to find any red tap shoes, unless they had some sequins broken off, or something. Gas-guzzlers rarely throw stuff away unless a catastrophe like that happens. The three of us walked together like civilized people. We didn't have much to say, so I mostly just thought (believe it or not, I actually do think sometimes). I remembered what Lucy's parents had been talking about last night, about Mr. McTavish trying to get more gas-guzzlers to join us. It's not as impossible as it seems; once every few years there actually are a few kind, generous, intelligent city people born who care about the environment. But not very often. It's almost like President Sheldon brainwashes everyone into shopaholics and morons.
At the dump, we began to search around, looking for anything else useful or cool. I picked up some weird contraption that looked kind of like a multi-armed miniature windmill with paintbrushes on the ends. "What's this for?" I asked aloud.
"I think that's used to paint your nails," said Lucy. Both Cara and I made disgusted faces at the notion. For those of you who haven't noticed, Cara's not really a girly-girl. I chucked the nail-painter back on the pile, and picked up an old hairbrush with a few bristles moving. I was considering it, when I noticed Cara's newest find. She had lifted up out of the junk a pair of silvery boots. The outsides were made of metal, but the insides were apparently very soft. There were strange circles on the bottoms. Her green eyes were wide with awe.
"I'm keeping these," she abruptly announced. With that, she took off her old sneakers and slipped the boots on. They fit pretty good.
Just then Danielle called to us excitedly. "Hey, look at this!" We ran up, to see her pointing at the top of a particular heap of junk. There was a little toy dog sitting there, head cocked to the side, almost like a real dog. "Isn't it cute?" Danielle cooed. All three of us automatically rolled our eyes. Danielle started forward, scrambling up the heap. It was then that I noticed there was a lead attached to the dog. That instantly set my radar on alert. Why would anyone bother to tie up a toy dog? I could tell that Lucy was concerned too, because she started forward. "Um, Dani? I don't think you should-" She got no further. As soon as her sister lifted the dog, a loud twang was heard, and a big net appeared out of the sky. Acting on instinct, we ran up, pushing Danielle out of the way in time, only to get caught ourselves! We were trapped!
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