For a moment, Lloyd
thought about finding a good place to hide; somehow, peering into the personal
life -- or the van, for that matter -- of his ex-teacher made him feel like a
voyeur. But he didn’t have a single
hidey-hole to duck into. The most he
could manage was to try and disappear behind one of the bars of the parking
lot’s fence -- and unfortunately, he’d eaten a thousand meals too many to have
the figure needed.
So he just stood there,
agape, and stared at Lien-Hua. And for
the longest time, he feared she stared right back.
Oh dear -- if she spots me, I could soon be on the receiving end of a
thrashing, Lloyd thought, reeling a bit.
But after a minute of silence (and raising his guard as if a bear
approached him), he leaned forward, practically pressing his face into the
fence and adjusting his glasses. Nothing?
Odd. I’m in her field of
vision. Is she dead-set on ignoring
me? Or perhaps she has poor observation
skills?
Pan’s flute! Is she trying to
suffocate herself?! Lloyd shoved his
face into several bars at once. With a
closer look, he managed to spot the rise and fall of her lungs -- short, rapid
motions, but a clear sign of breathing.
Her nose began reddening, and her eyes -- duller and lightless than
their usual selves -- suddenly gained a watery glaze. Could
she have been stricken with some malady?
She set her forehead
atop the wheel -- but not before letting streams of tears fall from her face.
Oh, she’s crying. What luck; I
feared she’d been possessed by some high fiend. He pulled his face back from the bars and
rubbed his nose…and then shoved his face back into them with enough force to
smash a brick wall. Ow, my face! Oh, damnable
sting! But…okay, I deserved that. He grabbed onto a few bars. Miss
Zhang, crying? No, this cannot be! This is terrible! This is…this is…!
Lloyd pulled away from
the bars. This is my fault, isn’t it?
Why he bothered asking
a question with such an obvious answer, he didn’t know. Maybe to shift the blame. Maybe to poke a finger at the real culprit,
some other purple-haired ham who -- by his incompetence -- had set into motion
a chain of events leading to three expulsions and a teacher getting fired. And all it had happened before the end of
lunch.
Standing here gawking will do us no good. If my actions are to blame for her
misfortune, then my actions will ease her pain with great haste. With a deep breath and a swell of
courage, Lloyd started for her van…and he took exactly two steps before
freezing in place. Wait. What exactly should I say
to her? I gave her my word that I would
restore her to her teaching ways -- and according to my recollection, I’ve done
nothing to cause harm to her psyche. I
should have more than a bit of clearance.
So what…?
The revving of the
van’s engine -- rattling and sputtering as it might have been -- snapped Lloyd
out of his reverie. He looked back at
Lien-Hua just in time to catch a long glimpse of her tear-soaked face, and focused
on it rather than the fumes spewing from the vehicle. And he kept on staring at her face, refusing
to blink as she pulled out of the lot and started on the road. Before she could go too far, she stopped
behind a red light -- and even though she’d stopped directly across from Lloyd,
she showed no signs of registering his presence, her own body, or even the road
ahead.
She’s become nothing short of an automaton, Lloyd thought. He opened his mouth to try hailing her, but
couldn’t get the words out of his throat; he just pulled back and covered his
mouth, looking as if he wanted to melt through the fence into the lot. It’s
positively unnatural…and I suspect there is but one major cause.
For a split second, he
saw a vision of the audition room -- and with it, the half-starred, depressed
teacher he’d observed. I couldn’t do a thing to improve her state
of affairs, he thought, lowering his eyes.
And worse yet, I may have
exacerbated the problem. If her star
count is truly dwindling -- and if said count affects her state of mind -- then
if she ends up reaching the zero point…
He swallowed hard. If she hasn’t reached the nadir already,
then…
Damnnation! How am I supposed to
help her now? What can I do? How on earth can I make things right? He started to gnaw on his lip. Do I
even have the means to help her?
Of course, he didn’t
get an answer. The only thing he’d
earned for his contemplation: the sputtering of Lien-Hua’s van as she took off,
moving and wobbling at a clip too fast for an occupied street.
“Ah -- M-Miss Zhang!”
Lloyd called out far too late, with nothing to show for his concern but a
breath of toxic air. “I…I want to help
you…”
He stared at the road
for what felt like an hour. And then, he
clapped a hand to his forehead. Wallowing in sorrow will do me no good. I have to get moving, and find JP.
Lloyd broke into a
run. I
have to do something. Anything.
I can do it…can’t I?
*
By the time Lloyd made
it back to his house, the sun had heated Porbeagle by several more degrees, and
the shadows loomed a bit longer across the neighborhood. Not that he noticed; he rounded the last
corner while gasping rapidly, taking solace in the sight of the Hoigleheimers’
tiny bungalow. The leafy greens
surrounding it and the houses flanking it made their beige-hued HQ look even
smaller; as if to compensate, the lawn looked less like a pile of plants and
more like a field straight out of Ireland.
Only a trail of stone circles disturbed the balance -- and currently,
Trixie, sitting at the foot of the porch’s steps.
“Lloyd! ‘Bout time!”
Trixie sprang of the steps and started toward him. “Listen, I -- hey, are ya gonna be okay? Ya look beat.”
“I’m…I’m quite all
right…” Lloyd said between breaths several speeds above hyperventilation. He bent over and clutched his knees. “All I…all I need is a moment to…to catch my
breath, and then I’ll…yes, I’ll be quite well-equipped to tackle this ‘Gaston
Leroux’!” He didn’t even finish his
proclamation before tipping over and falling on his face.
“Jeez, pal. Yer more dangerous than that guy’ll ever
be.” Trixie slung one of Lloyd’s arms
over her shoulder and started dragging him into the house. “Aw, hell…ya smell like ya just ran a
marathon! What were ya thinkin’?”
Lloyd offered her a
weary smile. “It was…well, it was my intention
to go on a run to clear my head. If I
could focus…focus on an action rather than my thoughts, then I…I imagine that
it would do us all a fair service.”
“What’re ya -- forget
it. Seems like tryin’ to understand what
goes on in that head o’ yers is just askin’ for trouble.” She pulled Lloyd into the kitchen, and set
him down in one of the table’s chairs.
“Ya can just sit down there and catch yer breath. We should prob’ly talk a bit -- go over what
we know and all that.”
“Ridiculous! With my kin in jeopardy, we haven’t a moment
to lose! To save my brother, I must leap
into action!” Lloyd’s proclamation would
have worked better if he hadn’t literally tried to leap up; his knees buckled
before he could even stand up straight, and his face nearly crashed into the
table. “Wretched tug of Gaia’s
threads! You shan’t best me!”
“Cool off already!”
Trixie yelled, slamming her palms on the table; even in his enervated state,
Lloyd managed to shimmy his way back into the chair. As he stared across the table at her, she
rubbed the back of her neck and sighed.
“Look, I know savin’ yer brother’s important. I feel the same way. And I -- we
ain’t about to let a dandy like that get the best o’ us. Ya know what I mean?”
Lloyd nodded. His breathing had finally begun moving at a
normal clip.
“But ya gotta pace yerself, pal. What’re ya gonna do if Gaston shows up and
wants ya to chase him? Yer sure as hell
not in any shape to go doin’ that anytime soon, ‘cause ya went and pushed
yourself too hard. Ya follow me?”
“Well, I suppose that’s
true. But be that as it may --”
“Ya ran straight back
here from school, right? Did ya think
about callin’ the cops?”
“No, I didn’t. This is a matter that I should resolve for
myself.”
“See? This is exactly what I’m talkin’ about.” Trixie scratched at her temple for a
moment. “All right, I’ll go ahead and
ask. Why d’ya think this is somethin’ ya
gotta do yerself?”
“I live, therefore I
must act,” Lloyd answered simply -- almost as if his words were a law to live
by.
Trixie’s scratching
turned into a much-needed massage. But a
glimpse at Lloyd told her just as much as his last words; he’d spoken with a
straight face, and with his typical airy visage, but…somehow, she could see something
different about him. A hardiness to him,
and a certain, heated glimmer in his eyes.
“I guess ya got yer reasons for why ya do…well, anything ya do, pal,”
she said at last. “So I ain’t gonna make
ya say anything ya don’t wanna.” She set
her hands on the table. “So let’s focus on
the important stuff. I hate to say it,
but callin’ the cops might not be the best idea right now. From what I hear, they’re out chasin’ yer
dad. He’s raisin’ hell so he can find
JP, ya know. So I guess we’re on our own
here.”
Lloyd turned aside and
covered his mouth.
“I think the best thing
we can do right now is try and find some clues -- and that’s why we need yer
help most o’ all, Lloyd. This Gaston guy
knows me, but it sounds like he knows ya too.
And yer whole family, for that matter.
So just to be sure, I’ll ask again: do ya have any idea of who he might
be?”
Lloyd didn’t answer.
“Hey. Hey, Lloyd!
Anybody there, pal? I wouldn’t
mind gettin’ a little --”
“Miss Walters. Do you know why I act?”
Trixie slid back a bit
in her chair. “Uh…’cause ya really like
actin’ and Shakespeare and all that?”
“Don’t misunderstand
me. I do enjoy acting in the theatrical
sense, but that’s not what I’m speaking of at the moment.” He turned towards her, arms folded and eyes
focused -- steeled, and even harsher than before. “There is something that I need to do. Something that I need to prove to myself.”
“What’s that?” But before she could get an answer, Trixie
nodded quickly. “Oh, right. That harem thing, right?”
But Lloyd shook his
head. “I act because I refuse not
to. Because I refuse to ever fail
someone again.”
TO BE HEARTINUED…
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