The Fugitive Grandma Lives

Chapter 11 - Family Meeting

That night Frank had double clean up duty. The country club called to report that his mom's involvement in some kind of club accident, stealing a golf cart to transport an injured gardener onto a public highway where they both could've been killed by oncoming traffic. His son had been given detention at school for smashing a class mates cell phone.

It was time for a family meeting.

"What the matter with you two!" he shouted at Stella and Johnny as they sat on the couch in their living room. "They find out who were are and we're all off to prison. The only thing we got in our favor is we're going unnoticed. Every day we got undetected, that's one day farther from our past."

"I am sorry, Frank," Stella said. "I don't know what got into me. Some fancy pants golfer at the country club hit this gardener right in the head on the fairway and no one was lifting a finger to help the poor guy. I thought he might die if I didn't try to help."

"Would you rather that we die instead?"

"Aw come on, Frank. I made a mistake. You know how I get emotional."

"Do I ever!" Frank exclaimed. "Always the hero. Always try to help. Damn the consequences."

"Hey you never know maybe we'll need a favor from that guy some day."

"I am sure a gardener at the local country club can help us out when we're sentenced for armed robbery." Frank shook his head. "Mom, you're going to have to make up some story about dementia or something. We'll tell them you have a history of mental illness, you're taking medication."

"I ain't taking pills again, Frank!"

"I am not saying you have to. We just have to give them a story to explain your behavior. If we say you're sick in the head, they might just believe that and take pity on you. I'd rather that then someone starts thinking your Stella Valentine, the fugitive grandma who always sticks her neck out."

"OK," she sighed.

"And what about your disguises?" Frank said, circling his mother, inspecting her appearance. "We need to get you some new wigs and eyeliner. Couldn't we get you some kind of padding to make your look fatter or something."

"I'll come up with something."

"As for you, Johnny," he said, turning to his son. "I told you no trouble at school."

"Sorry dad. It's just these boys in my class. They're so mean."

"They'll be meaner in prison, Johnny. In California they could try you as an adult for what you did!"

"None of us want to get caught by the cops, Dad, but there's gotta be a better way, Dad!" Johnny shouted. "Living this way, we're dying. Look at Gramma, she's not the same since we've come to Palm Valley.

"Don't say that Johnny," Stella said. "I'm OK."

"No you're not! None of us are." Johnny stormed out sobbing and shut himself in his bedroom. His dad and grandma knocked on the door but he ignored them. After he'd had a good cry, he turned out the lights and pulled the sheets over his whole body. Then he turned on his iPad and logged in to Comic Club.

The Seer was there to greet him with an unimaginable question.

WHAT IF YOUR GRANDMA COULD LIVE FOREVER?

LIVE FOREVER? WHAT DO YOU MEAN LIVE FOREVER?

JUST WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE.

IMPOSSIBLE.

IMPOSSIBLE. THAT'S WHAT SMALL MINDS ALWAYS SAY. WE AREN'T SMALL MINDS ARE WE JOHNNY? THEY SAID MEN WOULD NEVER FLY. AND THEN IT HAPPENED. THEY SAID MEN WOULD NEVER WALK ON THE MOON. AND THEN IT HAPPENED.

Johnny was breathing heavy, draped in his tear-stained sheets.

YEAH BUT THIS IS DIFFERENT.

IT'S DIFFERENT. BUT NOT IMPOSSIBLE. WE CAN DO IT JOHNNY. WE CAN MAKE A WORLD WHERE PEOPLE NEVER HAVE TO DIE. BUT I NEED YOUR HELP, JOHNNY. I CAN'T DO IT ALONE.