Just Jump

9

“700 Bourbon Street.” 

I’m not going to disappoint Ray. I hug the laptop to my chest. It was an easy enough find. Jump in, Jump out. 

“Why did you pick this place?” I ask Ray as we take a table in the loud tavern.

He shrugs. “My mom used to work here.”

Paul blinks. “You knew your mom?”

“Up until I was about 18 months.”

“And you remember her?” Sheila says skeptically. 

“Not her. This place. Food was cold. Service was bad. Save your money. Starve. Eat free dirt. Any of those would be better than dropping 50 bucks on a horrible meal.” This earns him a dirty look from the other costumers, who are already staring at the four teens who seem to have come out of nowhere.

        Paul shifts his weight and sits on his hand so his injury isn’t showing.

        Ray points a finger at Paul. “You,” he says, “have a lot of explaining to do.”

        Paul lays his head on the table. “Oh man,” he says, laughing under his breath, “where to start?”

        “We’re waiting,” Ray says tersely.

        We’re interrupted by Darcie Jumping onto me. “Laptop!” She exclaims. She’s hugging the slick black laptop to her chest, but it’s slipping out of her small hands.

        I take it from her slowly and she climbs around me and plops down between Sheila and me. 

        “Her password is capital S capital J capital S lowercase H-O-R-S-E-S numbers 2, 4, and two 0’s,” Darcie offers.

        Sheila looks at her. “How do you know?”

        Darcie shrugs.

        SJShorses2400, I type into the bar for the password. “She’s right,” I say. “We’re in.”

        A waitress walks up to our table and asks if she can get us anything. 

        “No,” answers Ray.

        “Can I have juice?” Darcie asks no one in particular.

        “No,” Ray repeats.

        The waitress smiles. “Tell you what, we’ll give her some on the house. She yours?”

        “No,” Ray re-repeats. 

        “Your sister?”

        “No.”

        “Whose is she?”

        “No.” Ray looks up from the table. “Sorry, what?”

        The waitress rolls her eyes and leaves.

        “Ray, we’re going to need some sort of cover story,” Sheila points out.

        Ray nods. “Great. I’ll put you in charge of that.”

        “But... buh… dawh… What?” Sheila splutters.

        Darcie’s face lights up. “Like a pretend game!”

        I nod at her. “Just like a pretend game. But we can’t let anyone else play the game.”

        Darcie nods vigorously. “Got it.”