This just in: even us old time
“Excuse meeeeeee… anyone here!?”
Having some experience in the past with kids and teenagers getting chased into my shop, I grabbed the cut off steel rocker arm shaft with taped handle. Cut me some slack. I'm almost sixty. :) I met the woman halfway, watching for pursuers. She grabbed my arm in a pleading manner.
I admit it. It was early in the morning and I was distracted. Her eyes appeared in the Bat-cave’s lighting to be full of tears and she sported an agonizing look of worry.
“C’mon,” I told her, walking toward my pull-down front door. “I don’t have anyone coming in for an hour. I’ll drive you over. Give me a second to close up.”
“No… I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll take the bus.”
Okay, now the bells are ringing. Hello, Bambi, how many years have you been running this place in
“It’s no bother. I’ll take you to
Gone went the agonized expression. Gone went the tear filled eyes. Her mouth turns up at the corner in either amusement or arrogance. I’m not sure which. It’s an overcast day and I don’t have all the lights on in the Bat-cave. Her pleading arms drop limply to her sides.
“I’ll take a ride down to McArthur,” she tells Bambi matter-of-factly.
“Ah… no, you won’t,” Bambi replies, gesturing for the young woman to hit the bricks.
“You were ready to take me to Highland a moment ago! What’s a quick run to McArthur?”
Incredulously, Ms. Stat’s pleading has evolved into anger at Bambi. Bambi is having none of it.
“Leave now,” Bambi directs, “or I call Oakland PD, and have them give you a ride.”
“&*#$ you!” Ms. Stat tells me and storms out.
Bambi can’t help wishing Connor and Ellie were driving by(my fictional novel