In Times Like These by Nathan Van Coops Read Free Book Online Page B

Blake, and I got us all toothbrushes, but they didn’t have any shorts or anything. I’m going to have to find a clothing store . . .” She catches me eying the police car again. “What’s going on?” She looks over and sees the middle-aged officer watching us from the car.
    “I don’t know,” I reply. “I think we should get back to the house. Come on, fuzzball.” I give Spartacus’ leash a tug.
    “Is something up with officer mustache over there?” Francesca asks as we take to the sidewalk.
    “Could be. A bunch of police cars went blazing by and he came into the lot really slow, like he was looking for someone. I think it might be some kind of search.”
    “Well they can’t be looking for us,” Francesca replies. I look back briefly after we have gone a half a block or so and see that the police car has idled up to the street. I’m worried for a moment that it’s going to follow us, but when it pulls into the street, it turns the opposite direction. I pull Spartacus out of a yard where he’s made use of the pause to chew on a Cabbage Patch Doll that was left on the lawn.
    “Hey, you little terror, they don’t want your teeth marks in their baby. I think those things were expensive.” Spartacus drops the doll and trots happily back to the sidewalk to continue on with us.
    “Seriously,” Francesca comments. “Some kid is getting an earful when the parents see that in the morning.” I take one more look at the diminishing taillights and then follow the dog.
    When we reenter the house, we find our friends in the sewing room. Carson is sitting on the stool of the spinning wheel and has an acoustic guitar on his lap. He’s strumming and singing Champagne Supernova quietly to himself, occasionally stopping to make notes on a piece of paper. Blake and Robbie are lounging in the pair of armchairs and watching a television in the corner of the room.
    “You guys are just in time,” Robbie says as we walk in. “ MacGyver comes on in five minutes.”
    “Unless he’s going to show us how to build a time machine from a fork and a pencil sharpener, I don’t think it’s really going to help us.” Blake scowls from the other chair.
    “Here.” Francesca tosses a pair of flip-flops to Blake. She drops the other pair on the floor at Carson’s feet. He stops singing and reaches down to examine them.
    “I didn’t remember to ask for your sizes, so I guessed. I figured they were flip-flops , so you could probably work it out.”
    Blake slips his feet into his and wiggles his toes around.
    “Is this the only color they had?” Carson asks, looking at the blue straps on the flip-flops.
    “Actually, they had pink, but I decided to be nice. I got us some burn cream too.” She pulls a couple tubes of ointme nt out of the bag. "Let me know if you need them."
    "I'll take one," Robbie replies, and Francesca tosses the tube to him.
    “Where’s Mr. Cameron?” I ask.
    “I think he went to bed,” Blake responds. “He went upstairs a little bit ago and w e haven’t heard from him since.”
    "Blake and I are taking the twin bedroom,” Carson says. "You and Robbie get to fight over the other one."
    "I can take the couch," Robbie suggests. "I don't really care."
    "Take the bed." I slump onto the couch . "The couch doesn't bother me. That bed looked a little short for me anyway."
    Carson goes back to strumming the guitar while F rancesca joins me on the couch. I pull my feet up and wedge one of them in between the couch cushions trying to get comfortable. Francesca fiddles with the cap on the burn cream but doesn’t open it. I lay my head back on the cushions and examine a burn on my palm. It’s still red and warm to the touch, but not especially painful. Carson is partway through singing the chorus to Eagle Eye Cherry’s, Save Tonight, when Blake suddenly snaps at him.
    "Am I the only one who’s freaking out here? We’re in 1985! I don't see how no one else is concerned about this." His eyes have a look