Movieland

Chapter 27

We knew where to go but had no way to get there.

The back high school parking lot at nighttime was the last place I wanted to be.

Mr. Stowe's power box was at best on the cart on the lawn where we left it. At worst it was eviscerated by the power of the booth. The most likely scenario was Mrs. X took it. And the thunderstorm had come and gone with no plans to return.

"You got me out of bed, and you don't even have a plan?" Standard said.

"We have a plan," Applewhite said.

"We do?" I asked.

My plan to get a warrant and demand entrance into the lab got shot down as fast as Applewhite could say private donors in this town are powerful.

"I have a hunch," she said.

"A hunch is what we used to call indigestion on set. Sometimes you'd think it's okay and you pass a little gas and it's all good. Other times you'd have a good feeling about it and pass gas and liquid comes out."

"Dude!" I yelled.

"What? Some of that catering got bad towards the end. Not to mention the crazy hours you're eating. You try staying regular."

Applewhite scoffed. "The history of your irritable bowels notwithstanding, your point is valid. Not all of them are great. But you also tend to know when a good one comes along. It nags at you. When you're sitting in a diner watching someone eat more waffles than should be possible, it's a little shock in the back of your head, reminding you that it's there. It wants you to act on it. And when you have nothing to lose, when hope isn't lost but it's fading like a photograph, when you're standing outside a high school on a Sunday and Max is looking at you like what in the hell are we doing here? You act on it."

"We are talking about you, right?" Standard said.

The back door clicked, and Mr. Stowe stepped outside. I was used to his usual khakis and polo outfit. He wore jeans and an LHS hoodie. His hair, normally slicked to the side impeccably, was still slicked to the side impeccably.

"We need another power box," Applewhite said. "There's only one guy in town who can help us with that."

"You told him?" I screeched.

"Hello, Edward," she said to Mr. Stowe. "Of course, I told him. I waited until I had no choice but to trust my instincts."

He jammed the door open and offered me his hand. "You don't think I fell for your stolen clock ruse, do you? After ten years of hearing a noise, you're going to notice when it's not there. Not to mention you put it upside down."

I reached out hesitantly and shook his hand. "I needed it. I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge," he said. "No one steals a power box unless it's important. Good thing I have an extra."

Standard said, "A wise man once told me never have only one of something you're not willing to lose. Of course, he had five wives and two mistresses, so take that for what you will. Eddie, you son of a bitch, what's it been, thirty years?"

Their handshake turned into a multi-parter with a sliding of the palms and a sliding of the back of their hands and then pulling back and hitting the back of their fists to explode into open hands.

"I saw you at Khan Montrose's birthday," Mr. Stowe said. "Last year."

Standard looked like he was trying to solve a Rubik's Cube in his head. "Did we talk about hacky sack or homemade salsa?"

Mr. Stowe ushered us inside. "We talked about your parents. I understand why you blacked it out. You guys head to the A/V room. I'm not letting Max know where I keep my second cube."