Always Standing Steady

Seldom What Things Seem

060500SJUL16: July 6, 2016. 0500. Topeka, Kansas, United States of America.

I was awoken by Diego--more specifically, Diego's chain of swear words. Full consciousness was not required to assume that Ezra was parking; this involved not slowing down and doing something only slightly short of a three-sixty into his intended parking spot. Everyone knew that Ezra was a bit of a chaotic driver. We also knew that he was consistently last in any given race. I sat up from where I had been laying across the back seat and Nazirah's lap to see that we had arrived at our new safe house. After a long overnight flight and a lengthy drive into the suburban part of Topeka, we had finally arrived.

"I have never seen so many shades of beige," Diego muttered. Even in the low light, it was clear that most every house around us was some shade of beige--maybe with olive green to add some spice.

Probably following up on an earlier conversation, Ezra laughed at him. "I think that one shed over there is technically pink."

"Salmon," Sicily corrected as she too woke up and sat up from Nazirah's lap, "which I think is technically a shade of beige too."

"I don't think that's how shades work," Diego muttered slowly. He caught Nazirah's eye in the rearview mirror.

If I recall right, they had an argument over what color the bridesmaid dresses were at a wedding then over what color would have been an improvement. That lasted about three hours, complete with swatches. Nazirah just grinned at him with a raised eyebrow that vanished into her hijab.

"Have you read the briefing packet yet?" I asked mainly Ezra.

Sicily answered me, "nope, for some reason Secretary Maya did not put it in the car. It should be in a safe in the house. Bit of a ball drop on her intense levels of secrecy, if you ask me."

"I wonder if she is feeling okay," Diego gasped dramatically.

Ezra shot me a grin in the rearview mirror. "Let's find out about this safe house."

I got out of the car and led the way to the garage door. Our new safe house was tucked nicely into a corner of the neighborhood. If had the same small garage and an extra garden-side parking space. When Diego typed in the garage code that he had been given, I saw that in addition to the car left for us at the airport--an aggressively suburban, midsize SUV--we had a matte black Audi R8 and an equally fast looking motorcycle; however, I do not know nearly enough about motorcycles to identify it.

"Dibs!" Nazirah spoke with so much conviction that we were not about to doubt her. She ran to the Audi, trailing her fingers across its hood.

"Aw, I was going to call dibs," Diego groaned.

"Too late," Nazirah teased. "But the bike is all yours."

Ezra looked to me. "Can we work with this?"

"Easily," I promised. "If James Fisher and this town are still the same, we will fit right in."

"Fisher?" A grin spread across his face at the name. "Can I meet him?"

"He will probably try and punch you first. Remember the house party story?" I had told Ezra all my good stories. He countered with his own. That was just what long flights and longer drives brought on.

"Oh, yeah! But, come on, I can take him."

"You could just talk and you'd kick his ass," I added--that is, if James was still as I remembered him.

Ezra came closer to me, close enough to throw an arm across my back and an arm under my knees. He lifted me bridal style into his arms to carry me across the threshold. He did this every time we arrived at a new safe house. The inside of the house was what could be expected. We had a normal sized kitchen with a cheerful yellow paint job, a modest living room with a TV, and a small foyer with a large coat closet. Sicily went to this closet to retrieve our briefing packet from the safe inside it. Ezra went to check out the bedroom with Nazirah trailing after him. I took the stairs down to the basement; Diego followed me.