The Shape of Things to Come (Hypernaturals 15)

No

"No."

"This is going to be interesting." Morgan seemed to be enjoying this. That makes one of us.

"Why not?" Victoria asked.

"Why?" I shot back.

"It's Denise's idea!" Victoria exclaimed as if that meant something.

"Hey! One: No it isn't. It's Luciana's. Two: leave me the entire fuck out of this. I knew he wouldn't go for it." Denise wiggled her engagement ring at Victoria to explain how she knew I wouldn't. "Three: Did I mention to leave me the fuck out of this? Because I want to get laid. Not lay in bed defending an idea that is not even fucking mine! And oh yeah: Victoria? Leave me out of it."

"You go to Soccer games all the damn time!" Victoria pursued me, ignoring Denise.

"I go to Football games. Only Americans call that Soccer." I told her. Not on point but when you are fighting with someone, you take the hits where you can land them.

"The point remains: You go to them." Victoria sounded annoyed at being corrected. Tough.

"I go because my daughter likes to play in them, and I love my daughter so I attend. I try to find things to say about them that do not express how I feel about them because that is what a Dad does. You want someone to play in your stupid intramural tournament, ask my Rachel. I am sure she will say 'yes'. Also probably kick your Council butt up and down the field. Unlike me, she loves shit like that." I explained.

Victoria reset. Leaned back a little. A blonde eyebrow wiggled. I felt an 'ah-ha moment coming. "As if the Crew aren't your kids. The whole damn time they were fleeing the conflict off the coast of China in submarines, you were beside yourself until they were safe. Not safe in the Philippines, mind you. Not safe in Hawaii. Safe all the way back home."

"That is only reasonable. We bought used submarines from decades ago, and only had about a month to put them right. The team worked on them the entire time they were under power. Half the people on the boat were there to fix them while underway. John Muir would be proud. But you know what? Volkswagens don't go underwater. Not intentionally. I had every right to be worried about them."

"What the entire hell are you talking about?" Victoria asked.

"John Muir. Wrote the best book on Volkswagen maintenance ever written. It is called 'How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive'." Morgan explained. I read her copy. It's very entertaining even if you are not fixing a car. The subtitle to the book is 'A Step-by-Step Guide for the Complete Idiot'. I'm not an idiot, but the book has a sense of humor throughout it that made it a fun read. "The first version was specific to the classic air-cooled Beetle. In the book, Mr. Muir talks about buying a broken down Beetle, loading it with tools, and leaving on a trip. Every time it broke on the trip, he would fix it. By the time the trip was over, he would have gone through it and even rebuilt the motor. The air-cooled engines are very simple and light. Why they were used for Dune buggies. The comparison is apt. My Muir would leave in junk, return is a solidly maintained car. The used submarines were in far better shape after the purchase and the usage of the mission than they were before. They left seaworthy but not all that safe. A few broken valves here or there, and the ballast or trim tanks would have sunk them. They came back shipshape. When they are sold, they will fetch more money than was paid for them. Helen, via her shipping connections, will be sure of that."

"OK..." Victoria was not sure what to do with that. A fair number of sideroads were taken.

I brought it back to the point. "The Crew are adults and do not need Pappa Adrian, who is, oh. By the way, need I mention? Younger than any of them! They do not need me to play in their stupid game."