“That’s weird, right?”
“Yeah, a little weird. I guess. I don’t know. Maybe not. I mean, what are we thinking here? Double life?”
“I don’t know. Sounds suspicious. I can’t imagine Eli doing anything like that, though. He’s so....I don’t know. He’s like...he’s like Jesus.”
“Jesus?”
“Yeah, you know, like tough, saving people, he’s got the long hair, and people kind of just...I don’t know. Like fall at his feet or whatever.”
“Yeah. He’s like Jesus. Good point.”
More shuffling.
“Okay. So, we know where he lives.”
“What? Have you been to his house?”
“No, but we had his license overnight, remember?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“We didn’t want to take it home because...well, you know we’d lose it, so we memorized the address in case he put you in a hole in the basement and turned the hose on you.”
“Uhh. Yeah. Okay, so what are you saying? You think I should go to his house?”
“We’re coming over.”
After significant deliberation back at my apartment, we decided I would just text Eli and casually ask what he’s doing. That was two hours ago. Half of my day was already wasted deliberating on my own before contacting the proxies, then another two hours of the most insane mediation you could imagine, and now, finally twenty-five minutes driving to Eli’s address.
It’s a nice house. Two stories, big front porch. Mostly brick with some stucco accents. It looks like Eli. The yard is immaculate. This must be what he’s doing while I’m at work.
“So, what now?”
Jax and Marshall look at one another with half-shocked, half-pleading expressions. Jax is the first one to speak.
“Well, I kind of hoped we’d pull up, and he’d be like erecting a statue of you in the yard. Since that clearly isn’t going to happen...Marshall?”
Marshall whips his head in Jax’s direction, looking very betrayed by the question.
We spent hours going back and forth for them to eventually huddle amongst themselves, andthis is what they came up with? This is the big plan?
“You should just go knock on the door.” Marshall is an idiot.
My glare could cut through stone, but does nothing to these morons.
“I’m not going to knock on his door. What if he actually does have a family in there? Then what? Or what if he doesn’t and he comes to the door himself?” Shifting my voice to sound something like Goofy, “Oh, hi, Eli. I’m not actually stalking you. It’s just a coincidence that I’ve shown up on your doorstep after you failed to respond to my texts. I’ve actually picked up a second job, and I’m doing food deliveries. I must be at the wrong address. Small world. Only, I don’t have any food because, well, I guess I got hungry on the way over.”
They’re looking at me with twin ‘what the fuck’ expressions before Jax says, “That’s the best you could come up with? You’re a really terrible liar.”
“Oh yeah. You could do better?”
“The six-year-old boy I trade Pokémon cards with could do better. Here’s what you do. Just go up there and knock on his door. If a woman comes to the door, say ‘Mrs. Wilmington?’ She will naturally correct you with ‘No, sorry. I’m Mrs. Washington.’ And then there you have your answer. If Eli answers the door, just say ‘Hey, I know this seems weird but me and the guys were at a friend’s house around the corner. They remembered your address because they have super high IQs, and I just thought I would stop by and say hey.’ “
Huh. How about that? That actually makes sense. It could work.
“Yeah. Okay. That actually sounds like it could work.”
“I know, right? The world should be glad that I don’t use my powers for evil.”
